#broken shaky sobbing

[urmomsfavelesbian]

*checks notes* step on me

[anarkhebringer]

I finally saw the cutscene of Karlach visiting her parents' graves with Null and I've had tadpoles about it all this time

[gonemechaniic]

Hey, do you ever think about Cindy during the WoD years, with the pressures of brainstorming new ideas to keep the lights longer and probably keeping most of the remaining usable vehicles running yet at almost every turn, hearing about civilians or even hunters lost to the darkness coupled with the worry and constantly checking in with her last family member now and again but also still being at the garage where her deepest traumatizing fears are right in her backyard and between that and her occasional ( lbr, they're probably more frequent ) night terrors, sometimes everything becomes so much that at just random intervals she just breaks down crying?

... well I just did 🙃

Edit to add a wall of tags

[fairy-angel222]

Gojo using a vibrator on both you and him when he fucks you.

Pressing it firmly onto his cock and your sensitive clit, both of you whimpering uncontrollably as he sped up his pace. Your moans mixing with with his when he collapsed onto you, never loosening his hold on the whirring toy.

He keeps it there until tears are staining your cheeks, crying out loudly with shaky legs as you’re brought from one orgasm to the next. Gojo’s head being buried in the crook of your neck with teary eyes, his groans and grunts getting whiny as he overstimulated his own throbbing cock. His cum leaking messily out of his reddened tip to coat your spasming walls.

You’re both so whiny, your hiccupped sobs accompanying your trembling frame as you continued to drench his thighs. Feeling his thick white substance seeping out of you every time you let go. “S-Satoruu— ‘s too muchh.” You mewled, babbling incoherently about how sensitive you were as your eyes fluttered shut. Brain fuzzy as you clung onto him, toes curling with a cry each time his cock poked at your g spot.

“F-fuck baby i know.. but this pussy’s so— shit, so fucking p-perfectt,” his voice went up a pitch with a broken moan, rutting into you slow and hard as his body tired down. Thrusts slowing till he was nestled deep, letting out a string of throaty groans as he pumped you full with yet another load. Both of you whimpering as you swelled with his cum.

“One more kay?” He breathed, chest heaving as he swallowed hard. Sloppily pressing his lips to yours before rolling his hips into yours once more, pulling away with drunken eyes back and parted lips. “Just.. haah— just one more.”

[tonycries]

Never Ever Seen This Before!

Synopsis. There’s a first time for everything - including trying out dirty little kínks with them.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, cóckwarming, mating press, oral (female + male receiving), manhandling, marking, spitting, bóndage, spanking (Nanami’s), dynamics, degradation, cúmplay, squírting, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. *sigh* can’t believe I deleted this before. If you know, then YOU KNOW.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Stay still, goddammit!

Was being stuffed full of your boyfriend’s thick cock at all times really too much to ask? You think not. 

Toji, however, really didn’t see the point.

“But, doll.” he groans, dragging his tip lazily in-between your swollen folds. And it was so sloppy - slick trailing down his length, smearing across the sheets. “Jus’ wanna fuck your pretty lil’ cunt.”

It’s not that Toji doesn’t like the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his cock. No, he loves it - is addicted even. And he loves it especially when you attack him in the morning like this - his pretty girl, all splayed out on her side, barely even blinking the sleep out of her eyes before you ache for his dick. 

But, really, what’s the use of staying still - he’d rather fuck you till you’re breathless and creaming around his cock.

“Toji, you promised we’d try. Jus’ want to be stuffed full of your cock.” you pout, batting your lashes behind at him. “Don’ make me go on a sex ban.”

Oh, you little minx. He knew all your dirty tricks - yet, fell for them each time anyway. “Fine. Then fucking-” he lifts your legs a little higher, hips pulling back ever-so-slightly. “Take it.”

You barely even hear the rest of his sentence because Toji’s immediately bullying his throbbing dick into your pussy. Pushing against the resistance as you struggle to take his thick cock, not stopping till he’s buried all the way in your wet cunt.

Smirking at the way you mewl and grind your hips back into his, he wraps two muscled arms around your waist, holding you still on his cock. Murmuring in your ear, low and gravelly, “Not s’pposed to move, doll. Remember?

God, he knows you feel the way he twitches inside your dripping cunt at the way you whisper out a shaky little, “Y-yeah. No moving.”

And stubbornly you grit your teeth, being able to do nothing more than clamp down so deliciously on Toji’s pulsing cock as you stay still, relishing in the burn of him stretching you impossibly.

And maybe it’s been minutes - or even hours, because God did it feel that way to Toji as he watched you being broken by the mere feeling of being split apart on his cock. Patience slowly waning, he snakes down a hand to your poor, forgotten clit. Index tracing lightly over the sensitive bud. 

“T-Toji what-” you immediately jolt, finally getting an ounce of the friction your cunt has been aching for this whole time. Mindlessly grinding into his erection - only to be stopped by a large hand on your hip. 

“No moving, doll. Remember?”

“But-”

“Didn’t say anything about playing with your pretty lil’ clit now, did you?” he hums, knowing you were playing right into his hands. “Now. Don’t move.”

Ah, you can do nothing but lay there and take it as Toji presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Fingers starting to press, frantic, hard little circles on your swollen clit. Over and over- Like he was fucking you with his fingers the way he couldn’t with his dick. 

Ugh, damn him. Damn him and his fingers that knew you so well.

It was maddening.

“Toji- please.” you sob out, powerless against the bruising grip keeping you in place. You wanted to move. You wanted him so bad. 

“‘Please’ what?” he grunts. Clearly torn between focusing on drawing steady, agonizing patterns on your clit and fighting that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy over and over. Not stopping till you were cockdrunk and crying to cum.

“Please just fuck me- ah!”

Oh, you didn’t have to tell Toji twice. Because in one, fluid move, Toji’s pulling back, fucking you with harsh, jerky little movements of his hips. Twitching balls smacking you with each thrust. Not even caring to wait and let you adjust because fuck cockwarming, he’s wanted this so long and your needy lil’ pussy is milking him so good- “Shhh, it’s okay, doll. We have lotsa time to practice.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - So mean!

Nanami Kento was a gentleman. Always holding the door open, guiding you through crowds, gifting you bouquets even when there wasn’t a special occasion. 

The only problem was that Nanami was a gentleman even when you didn’t want him to be. Even when what you really wanted was for him to push you down and tease you till you were crying and begging for his cock. 

Like right now - kissing softly down your neck, large hands trailing across your skin as he lays you gently on your bed. Long fingers dipping into your soaked panties, drawing delicate patterns on your quivering thighs. But you’re not in the mood for delicate.

“K-Kento!” you whine, hips bucking into his featherlight touches. “Can we ah- do that thing we talked about?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, darling.” he murmurs against your skin. 

You let out a pouty whine, one that you knew would make him break. “But I want you to, Kento. Wan’ you to break me. Please.”

He lets out a resigned sigh, running a hand through his hair. A loaded second of silence passes. One. Two. And just as you’re about to admit defeat, surprisingly, it’s Nanami that breaks the silence. “Fine then. Face down, ass up if you want to act like such a lil’ slut.”

You scramble to do what he says, mind reeling from the fact that oh this was Nanami - the same Nanami who’d never raised his voice or ever called you anything other than terms of endearment.

“Hm, good.” he grits out.

And that’s all you hear before a deafening rip! rings through the heady room. Looking back in shock, you realize with a jolt that Nanami had your tattered panties in his hands, your dripping cunt on full display for him. 

As he positions himself behind you, resting his swollen cock the curve of your ass. Mindlessly, you push back against the feeling of Nanami’s achingly hard cock, hot and heavy on your skin, precum smearing everywhere. “Ken-”

Smack!

“Not Kento, darling.” he murmurs, palms smoothing over your ass. Lips kissing down your spine, in a way that would be so sweet if it wasn’t for the way he had you under his mercy. 

You let out a strangled moan at the sharp sting, his large handprint searing into your skin.  “S-sir?” you whisper, almost-experimentally. And oh was it the right answer - because he groans appreciatively, dick jumping so animalistically at the term leaving your swollen lips. 

“Oh? So my slutty girl does know how to be good, huh?” he murmurs, voice so uncharacteristically dangerous. Hands spreading your swollen folds to take in the sight of your wet pussy. “Shit. Since m’feeling so nice, count to five n’ I’ll fill that tight lil’ cunt with my cock.”

You barely have the time to wonder what he means before you feel a sharp slap against your ass. Forcing you to yelp out a strained little, “O-one, sir.”

Nanami hungry eyes greedily take in the fat tears clinging to your lashes, hips bucking into his for more. Your mouth dropping into such a delicious little oh! as you’re torn between pain and pleasure. 

You were so sweet falling apart underneath him that he can’t help but do it again. Smack! And again. Smack! 

“Two. Hah! N’ t-three.”

Good, now it was time to put his good girl to the test. 

With a low hiss of appreciation, he drags his throbbing cock across your wet folds, gathering your sweet juices on his tip. At the same time, Nanami’s hand connects with your ass again. Hard. Smack! 

“Ah! Oh-”

“Count.”

“Four! Ngh- four, sir.”

Nanami’s amusement spikes at the way you were so desperately rutting into his cock. And, well, what his pretty slut wants - she gets, right?

Several things happen at once,  he swiftly raises his hand for a final, hard smack. Hips reeling back ever-so-slightly to ram his cock into your snug cunt at the same time. Smack! 

“Ah! Kento- Kento hgnh- shit feel s’good inside me.” you mewl, drunk off both the sharp sting on your ass and Nanami bullying his thick cock into your tight pussy, filling you up so good. 

But not for long - because as soon as he was stuffing you full of his cock, Nanami’s pulling out just as fast. Your pussy clenching around nothing as you whirl behind to pout at him. Only for whatever whine to get stuck in your throat at two fingers shoving something flimsy and wet in your mouth. Forcing you to taste yourself.

Gagging around your soaked panties, a jolt runs down your spine at the positively feral glint in his eyes. Blinking away the tears in your eyes to take in the cruel little smile playing on his lips as he leans in closer to whisper, “My lil’ slut can’t even seem to remember what to call me, huh? I think she should be punished.”

Oh.

What have you done?

♡ GETO SUGURU - Drown me in it!

Geto Suguru has done it all - folded you in half, stuffed you full from all ends, had you begging and crying for more underneath him. He can confidently say that he hasn’t shied away from ticking off everything on the list.

That is until one random night in the shower, when he gets an epiphany - oh shit, Geto hasn’t made you squirt yet. Yes, it was the sudden image of you covering him in all your sweet juices. But more importantly - how dare he let his pretty girl go so long without cumming so hard you see the pearly gates of heaven? 

So - like any good boyfriend - Geto has you splayed out on his navy sheets, your legs in the air, his painfully hard cock buried in your dripping cunt. 

“Hngh- please. Shit shit shit m’cumming-” you whine, hips bucking wildly into his. Tears streaming down your face, clenching so hard around his dick that it makes it hard for Geto to thrust in and out at his steady, torturous rhythm. Fucking you through- which number orgasm was this again? 

Ah, it doesn’t matter - because you didn’t squirt. Again. 

“Awww…” you can barely hear his words over the blood roaring in your ears. “Didn’t squirt on that one either. C’mon now, my love, I know y’can do it f’me.”

Not wasting a second, Geto’s ramming his cock into your snug cunt once more. Heavy balls stinging your ass with each thrust - not even easing you into it any more because oh your little sobs were so pretty. Squirming and bucking into his touch despite your protests. “S-Sugu- I hah-, can’t-”

Now, as much as Geto loved your smart mouth - he loved it even more when you’re cockdrunk and babbling underneath him. Huffing out a laugh, he murmurs in your ear, “Yes, my love?” Veins grazing that one spot. Hard. “Can’t what?”

“Can’t cum anymore!”

Well - greedy gaze drinking in the way your swollen cunt swallowed him up so well, slick dripping down to his twitching balls - Geto begged to differ.

“Shut up. You will.” he mutters, shifting the angle to hit that one spot that has you gasping and bucking your hips for more. Your fists bunching up the soaked sheets below you, fucking yourself desperately into his throbbing cock. Curling deftly against that one spot. Over and over-

“Close, my love?” Geto sing-songs, “Think this could be the one?”

And oh does he find out. Because you’re cumming again - stars behind your eyes, walls clamping down so sinfully as he fucks you through your high. Your nails claw at his shoulders in an effort to get him to fucking slow down - but no, Geto is ruthless with his abuse. Hips faltering only once you show signs of your high bating. 

And before you can even react, your boyfriend’s starting his movements again. Milking himself on your heavenly pussy. 

You can’t even form coherent sentences at this point, only fucked-out whimpers leaving your swollen lips - it’s been like this for hours now. You’ve cum more times than you can probably count, yet here Geto was - not even once tonight. A slow, agonizing torture for the both of you. All because he wanted you to fucking squirt.

His thumb was ravaging your sensitive clit, pleasure nothing more than tingles now as Geto fucking ruins you. Hips bullying his thick cock into your heated pussy, thrusts no more than sloppy little movements. Your pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor.

Unforgiving. Geto Suguru was absolutely unforgiving. 

“C’mon, my love.” his words were so sweetly whispered in your ear - barely audible over your cries. Geto nips at your earlobe, purring lowly, “Squirt on this one, n’ I’ll fill your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum like you want s’bad.”

And then, it happens - something snaps.

Your orgasm crashes through you. So violent and hard that you see flashes of white behind your eyes. You cry out, trembling as your sloppy pussy squirts all over Geto. Covering him in all your sweet juices till his abs are glistening with your slick. Dripping down his body and absolutely soaking the sheets below.

And oh how he was entranced. Geto barely registers his own orgasm, hips faltering as he pumps thick, hot ropes of seed into your quivering cunt. Cumming at the mere sight of you creaming on his cock. His pretty girl was so gorgeous squirting all over him.

It was so so worth edging the both of you to the brink of insanity. He thinks his only regret was not having you squirt all over his face too.

Well…now he only had to see if he could do it twice.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Lollipop!

Shit, you thought your best friend would have a huge dick - but this was ridiculous. 

So intimidatingly long and pretty, swollen tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching his blushing cheeks. Beads of precum leaking down, down, down the side so mouth-wateringly as you seat yourself in-between those sculpted thighs.

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” Choso hisses, despite the way his cock throbs animalistically in your soft hands. 

You raise a brow, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently. “Are you sure, Cho? S’your first, after all.”

He should say no. He should laugh it off as a joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wanted to see your pretty lips wrapped around his dick. Have you choking and gagging around him. So, any rationality thrown out the window, Choso nods slowly. Entranced. 

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, hot breath making his angry cock twitch “Thought so.” 

“But are you su- hngh!” Whatever sentence at the tip of his tongue is cut off as you spit on his length. Once. Twice. Your palms smearing the saliva along his throbbing length. Enough of an answer. And then there’s no more talking. 

Choso’s mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! of disbelief as your tongue darts out to collect the saliva and precum pooling at his head. 

Moaning at his slightly salty taste, you take in as much of him as you can - inch by fucking inch. Not stopping till your nose meets the small tufts of black hair at this toned pelvis. Because this was your devastatingly sexy best friend and he deserved the best. 

God, Choso already thinks he could pass out. 

Heavy balls squeezing so painfully, his veins graze against the roof of your mouth as you start bobbing your head at a quick, ruthless pace. Milking Choso’s pretty cock for all he’s worth. Not even easing him into his first, because fuck only one taste and you’re already addicted. 

So, really, it only makes sense that Choso was the same. “Oh- Oh fuck! Feels s’good hngh-” he babbles, hips bucking up involuntarily into your warm, plush mouth. “Shit shit shit oh-.” 

Was this what heaven felt like? He really was missing out.

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, feel s’good around me, sweetheart.” he groans, as you tongue at his sensitive slit. Fingers digging into the soft armrest while he tries to keep himself together.

You notice - of course you do - because soon enough you’re grabbing his arms to rest on your head, teary eyes blinking up at him so sinfully as you suck the soul out of him. 

In a split-second, Choso’s carding his fingers through your hair, holding you steady as he rams his cock down your throat. 

“Fuck- m’s-sorry, sweetheart. S’too ngh- fucking good.” his words slur together, drunk off the way you gag around him. Letting yourself be so used as he fucks your mouth so ferally. Not half the man he was just a moment ago.

By God were you a vision, he thinks deliriously - tears stinging your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, lips stretching so lewdly around him as you take him in and out in and out in and- And if he angled your head just right he could see the bulge in your throat. Him - all him. “Sorry- ah! s’pretty hgnh- pretty when you’re full of my cock.”

“Gonna be m’first, huh?” he moans deliriously, “”Gonna let me fuck up into that pretty lil’ mouth whenever I want?” 

The only response he gets are your pathetic, wet gurgles, and the smacking of his heavy balls hitting your chin. This was heaven and you were an angel.

And that only makes Choso speed up his sloppy thrusts more. Each thrust deeper and harder than the last. Balls tightening, feeling his sanity crumbling away each time his throbbing erection hits the back of your throat. Over and over-

“Ah! Sweetheart- m’not gonna last long. M’close-” he lets out a guttural groan, tugging on your hair to pull you away.

But alas, you seemed every bit intent on ruining him. Because the only response he gets are your nails digging deeper into his milky hips, leaving angry, red marks in their wake. Ones for him to remember you by - not that he thinks he could ever forget this.

And that itself is enough to have Choso spilling into your mouth. Shooting thick, hot spurts of seed down your waiting throat. 

Messy. It was so fucking messy.

Heart in his throat, breaths ragged, Choso has to blink his vision back. And if he thought he was going to pass out before then he wasn’t ready for you to proudly stick out your tongue - showing absolutely no trace of his cum. Swallowing everything he gives.

“I-I think,” he starts, voice shot, “S’time for me to return the favor.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Drunk on you(r cunt)!

Why the hell would the King of Curses ever kneel down to anyone? 

Why would he ever wrestle your legs so shamefully open, dive nose-first into your pretty pussy, and tease you with his tongue for hours? Ignoring his angry, achingly hard cock for the sole purpose of making you cum and only making you cum?

But, well, that’s exactly what happened. 

“Oh- Kuna! Please-” you mewl, big fat tears dripping down your face at this point. Not knowing whether to move your hips away or buck up into his tongue for more more more-

“What now, brat?” he hums into your dripping cunt, vibrations making you squeal. “Complained that I don’t eat out your pretty lil’ cunt n’ now you’re acting so spoiled?”

Ah, there it was - that offhand little remark that got you into this mess. “B-but,” you whine, stars behind your eyes each time Sukuna laps at your sweet juices. “Didn’t think you’d be so mean-”

All you get is a dark chuckle as Sukuna sucks on your throbbing clit, so sensitive from his relentless abuse. Rolling his tongue over it so teasingly. 

Now, this might be his first time eating you out, but he knows exactly what you need - what you crave. And the way your body trembled under his touch told Sukuna everything about how you were brinking so dangerously close to the edge. Too close. 

“Please, Kuna! Wan’ cum s’bad.” you cry out, broken little moans of pleasure leaving your swollen lips. Ones which quickly turn into disappointed whines as he pulls away. Again.

“M’not being mean.” he murmurs in your ear, drinking in that adorable little pout on your face. 

In the haze of your lust-addled mind, you barely register the way he flips you two to lay on his back. Manhandling you further up the mattress you to be splayed out so sinfully above him - thighs straddling his devastatingly handsome face, hot breath hitting your dripping cunt.

“See?” Sukuna hums, tongue darting out to catch the obscene drip! drip! drip! of your slick. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “M’the best fucking boyfriend you’ll ever have.” And with that, he’s bullying his tongue through your swollen fold. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over-

“Ngh- feels s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Sukuna’s tongue. 

Why was he so reluctant again? Something about stupid fucking pride? Fuck that, Sukuna would be on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal.

God, you were pretty sure you’d be collapsing onto him if it wasn’t for the strong hand holding your hips. Grip almost bruising as he rocks you harder - more obscenely - on his tongue. The other snakes down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your swollen clit - as if you weren’t losing your sanity enough

And maybe if you were in a better state of mind you’d have noticed that Sukuna was, too. Eyes half-lidded, slick glistening down his jaw, pussy-drunk and watching awe-struck at the sinful sight of you. Devouring the sight of you the way he was with your cunt. 

Fuck, why does this feel so good? He wasn’t even fucking getting off, but the more he made out with your sweet cunt, the more he could feel himself edging closer and closer to the edge. Rock-hard cock angry and leaking precum all over his abs. The great Ryomen Sukuna cumming in his pants from eating his pretty girl out? 

Shit, Sukuna thinks deliriously, he was gonna have to make you cum. Soon. 

“Kuna- m’close.” you whimper, voice so soft as if you were afraid of being teased again.

“Oh yeah, brat?” he mutters into your folds, “Want it s’badly, huh? Wan’ cum on my tongue?” 

The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Yes yes yes! Can’t take it anymore, wan’ cum. Make me cum, please!” you keen. Fucked-out little whines of Sukuna’s name leaving your mouth as he speeds up his movements.

“Then cum.”

And you are, clenching so lewdly around his soft tongue as you ride out your high on his face. Your juices glossing his lips so prettily. And oh Sukuna’s so entranced by you creaming around his tongue that he almost misses the feel of thick, hot spurts of his cum now pooling on his abs. Fuck, he was going to have to do this very often.

♡ GOJO SATORU - Break him!

Gojo always fucked you like his own personal sextoy. And now, it was only time for you to pay back the favor. Which is why you had him handcuffed to the bed, shirtless and splayed out to absolutely fucking ruin. 

“Hah, don’t worry, baby. I’ll be gentle.” Gojo chuckles, tugging on the metal cuffs. Still so cocky despite the way his throbbing dick was leaking all over his sculpted abs, twitching at the mere sound of your voice. 

“How nice.” you hum, sliding your pussy across his swollen cock, drenching him in your juices. “Because I won’t be.” And before Gojo can retort, you’re sinking down on his achingly hard cock, squeezing him inside your tight cunt as much as you can. 

“Shit shit shit, yes. Your pretty lil’ pussy feel s’amazing wrapped around me. You sure you can handle it all, baby?” 

You waste no time. Slamming down on Gojo’s leaking cock in one, abrupt motion, walls burning at the stretch as your ass meets his heavy balls. They twitch against you as you start moving in steady little bounces, sliding his thick cock in and out of your dripping cunt. In out in and out in and-

“Shit, baby. Fuckin’ me s’good ah! Hngh-” Gojo’s sinful moans come in ragged bursts. Fucking up into your pussy in shallow, defiant little thrusts to bully himself deeper and deeper inside you. But not for long - because you’re pushing his hips down, nails digging into the milky skin of his hips.

“Nope.” you hum, grinning at his pout. “Not till you admit defeat, Toru.”

“What defeat? That all you got, baby?” Gojo scoffs.

Stubborn bastard.

“‘What defeat’, huh?” you taunt. Leaning down so your breath fans his pretty face, “Said I couldn’t- handle it-” Each word is punctuated by you slamming down hard onto his swollen cock. Snug cunt massaging his veins as you pull up all the way - till his leaking tip is just kissing your sloppy hole, rocking your hips down hard at a punishing pace. “Look at you now, huh?”

You risk a glance into his eyes and oh- he liked it.

The great Gojo Satoru - revered like a God since birth - liked being treated like a mere fucktoy at your hands. Loved it even - if the way he twitched inside you was anything to go by it. Oh how you enjoyed being the one to bring him down to his knees.

Immediately, your hand reaches to grab the blindfold hanging haphazardly on his neck. “C’mon, Toru.” you warn, breaths ragged at the way his fat tip kissed your cervix. Tugging - hard - Gojo breath hitches in his throat as you whisper, “Jus’ give up.”

His pretty lips part slightly as you speed up your movements. Harsh, purposeful movements just to fuck his soul out. 

“God, fuck- hah. Nah, more talk than walk, huh?”

Your hand tightens around the delicate blindfold, relishing in the wet little gurgles that leave him at the pressure around his throat. Balls squeezing painfully as you hypnotize him with your heavenly cunt. Alternating between agonizingly slow strokes and a sloppy, erratic bouncing - edging him closer and closer to the edge. Only to shatter his orgasm and his ego. Fuck.

“I know you want to cum, Toru.” your sweet voice snaps him out of his reverie, and Gojo stares up into your hazy, powerdrunk eyes. “Just admit defeat.”

“No.”

“Toru.” you start, sultry and dangerous. “Admit it.”

He shakes his head desperately, tears peeking out through those long lashes. “No.” he repeats, jaw clenched tight.

A hand wraps around his blindfold, pulling him impossibly closer, not even a hair’s breadth between your sticky bodies. “Admit defeat, Toru.” your lips ghosting his, nipping at his bottom lip. “Admit defeat, n’ I’ll make your cock cum hard enough to see stars.”

And finally, “I hah- a-admit defeat.”

“Louder.”

“I was wrong! Was wrong, m’girl. Lemme cum please lemme cum-”

Throwing his head back, Gojo’s hips buck wildly into yours as you let him bully his dick into you with reckless abandon. Over and over- Using you just as much as you were using him. Not even an ounce of the God he was raised to be.

And oh does Gojo see stars - and you do too. Because with a strangled gasp of your name, he’s painting your snug cunt white with thick, hot ropes of his cum. 

Fucking his seed deeper and deeper, he fucks you through your high. Dazed blue eyes widening at the way your tight pussy was so overfilled, sticky seed dribbling out of you.  The sight of you creaming around his cock has his balls twitching exhaustedly. Fuck it was all too much. Flimsy handcuffs shattering with one pull, Gojo mutters raggedly, words sending shivers down your spine, “My turn, baby.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[yawnderu]

Simon lets out a deep chuckle as he sees your daughter pick flowers from the light, clean grass, her tiny hands barely even managing to gather enough strength to get the stems out of the ground.

“C'mon, that's enough.” His voice is patient, calloused hands picking his daughter up as he brings her up to his chest, a small smile when he sees her holding onto the flowers for dear life, giggles leaving her lips as he starts bouncing her while they walk.

It became a routine, in a way, for Simon to bring his daughter whenever he visits his family. She's too young to understand, so pure, so untainted from the dangers of the world, always kept safe by Simon and you, yet he can't fight off the urge to make his family see her.

He walks for a few minutes, enjoying the chilly air while his daughter cuddles up to him, one of her tiny hands gripping his jacket, while the other one is still holding onto the flowers. He stops in front of a set of four graves, the familiar pit of dread setting deep within him starts to come out, shaky hands managing to gently put the little girl down on the cold ceramic.

Mrs. Riley.

If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.

Simon was hiding his hurt quite well, managing to sit down next to his little girl, one hand on her back as she started crawling around, finally setting the flowers down.

“Mum?” His voice is quiet, almost cracking, as if he was the scared little boy his mother defended with her life. His daughter looks up at him with curious brown eyes, sitting down and entertaining herself with her own onesie.

“I remember telling you I'd never settle down because I could never get as lucky as Tommy and Beth...” He dragged out, gaze going down to the ring on his finger, the physical representation of your union.

“You've met my wife before, and now I want you to see my kid too.” He's barely managing to speak, words coming out rough and choked up as his hand caresses his daughter's thin hair, making him pause just to examine her features. She's a tiny carbon copy of him, a lovely nose and a set of brown eyes that will never see the horrors he lived.

“She's a proper daddy's girl, but you would've loved each other.” He's sure of it. His mum was always so lovely, so nurturing. A true angel on earth with way too much forgiveness and patience for her own good.

He picks his daughter up, planting a soft kiss on her forehead. Simon thought he cried all his tears when he was a little boy, yet his nose is starting to sting, vision getting blurry for a few seconds until a choked sob manages to escape his lips. He's quick to wipe any tears away, simply trying to focus on the peace and quiet the cemetery offers, his hand running up and down his daughter's back, patting it softly just to hear that little giggle that seems to always repair his broken soul.

“All of you would've loved her, shy little thing she is.” He sniffles again before a quiet laugh leaves his lips, smiling despite the way his eyes are still filled with tears threatening to spill at any moment.

“I'm quittin' the SAS soon, don't want her to grow up without a father. The wife's happy about it, too.” Simon lets out a small sigh, looking down at the graves of his family, all buried next to each other. He shakes his head softly, his free hand quickly wiping off his tears before he goes back to holding his daughter, rocking her with care.

“I'll come back with her next time, jus' wanted to talk to you today. Let you meet this lovely girl.” Big brown eyes meet his gaze, instantly cheering him up despite everything. He pinches his cheek softly only for the little girl to smack his hand away with a giggle, only making his smile grow wider at how hot-heated she is. Just like her mother.

[hurlingdown]

MONSTERFUCKING — ft. monster! reader, human! character, heavy dub-con, oviposition (eggs), mpreg, aphrodisiacs, degradation, belly bulge, loss of virginity, and all that lovely shit. ♡

It was foolish of him to wander into unknown territory. 

You could still clearly recall just how beautiful he looked, trembling at the mouth of your lair. You could smell it—he was pristine, and evidently untouched. A virgin. 

He had sworn he would slay you and bring your head home to his village, bloodthirsty and terrifying and claiming this and that before he fell to his knees under the effects of the aphrodisiac, begging you to fill him up with your seed. 

And now look where he was. 

“So fucking wet,” you crooned lowly, slobbering all over his chest, forked tongue swirling around a nipple as you pushed the fat bulb of your cockhead into him. “Gonna stuff you, ooh, make you carry allll of my eggs.” 

“P-please,” he implored, delirious with pleasure, cum dribbling out of his cock in small spurts. It hadn’t even been a minute, and there he was, twitching and broken, just from being stretched out. “‘S too much, please, it won’t, won’t fit!” 

How cute. It only made you hungry for more. 

“Then we will just, have to make it fit, yes?” With that, you roughly jerked your hips forward, slamming the rest of your cock into his tight little hole. He let out a squeal, back arching as he gasped for breath. 

“Oh, fuck!” he sobbed loudly, writhing as shaky hands found their way onto your horns, gripping tight. He was clenching around you so tightly, your cock resting so deep inside him he could almost feel it in his throat. “You’re gonna break me…!” 

“Is that not what we are doing?" you sneered, tongue slithering into his ear, making him shudder. "Hah. You came here… ‘cause you wanted this, yes? Wanted to get fucked by a monster.” 

“That’s n-not true… I’m here to slay you!” 

Clawed hands grabbed at his parted thighs, and lifted him up carefully and gently, switching up the angle so you could now fuck him into the nest. He shivered as your claws grazed sensitive flesh, letting out a pitiful whine. 

“You just looove to lie, don’cha. So stubborn! Hehe, d’you go around fucking other monsters, too? Ooh, aren’t you a lil’ slut? My pretty lil’ slut?” 

"No! Haah, 'm not, not your slut..."

He shook his head wildly, letting out small sobs as you drove your cock into him with little restraint, treating him like how a child would play with his new toy. Savage and ruthless and obsessive, conveyed in every powerful thrust of your hips, the thwop thwop thwop of slippery skin against the plush fat of his bruised ass resounding in the lair. 

It was humiliating. And yet it felt so good.

“You are so pretty. Mine. My mate,” you chanted, and for a second he thought he saw hearts dancing in your eyes. “Gonna make you all mine, you'll never think about fucking another monster again…” 

You manhandled him onto his stomach with ease, suddenly pushing back in, and he wailed, bursting with fullness. “Yeah, that’s right. Oh, I’m gonna cuuum. Gonna cum so hard in your perrrfect lil’ hole. Fill you up with my eggs, make you the prettiest mate ever. How’s that sound, my sweet?” 

“Please! D-don’t!” he mewled as the base of your cock began to thicken, swelling with knot. “Please, I’ll do anything, I can’t, can’t get pregnant…” 

“Don’t worry,” you purred, your tongue wrapping around his neck as you pushed impossibly deep inside him to let the knot catch. “I'll take goood care of you. You will be safe here in our nest, with our eggs… and with me!” 

“It’s hard to believe that when—when you’re the danger h-here!” 

He keened, shuddering and wailing as your knot began to ever-thicken and expand, impaling him on your cock. A strange, slippery sensation began to fill him, and for a moment he thought that you were simply cumming inside. You shifted above him, grunting loud as you pushed the first egg into him, the action making him gasp, eyes widening. 

“What…” he panted, “What’s happening?” 

“Told ya I was gon’ fill you up,” you slurred, pressing your chest against his back and stroking his belly in contentment. “Ooh, hnngh, there’s another—” 

You let out a groan as the second egg pushed past the gaping rim of your cockhead and into his soft, velvety womb. He was shivering all over, letting out soft whimpers as his cock gave another weak spurt at the feeling of being stuffed. 

“No, no, please, stop…” 

He let out shaky whines as you pushed egg after egg into him, tummy feeling bloated and heavy. It was too much, and it didn’t seem like you were going to stop anytime soon. Soon, spots were dancing in his vision, and he slumped bonelessly into the nest, letting exhaustion overtake him. 

He stirred awake to the soft rumbling of a warm body behind him. Your knot had gone soft, warm cum leaking out of his puffy, used hole. The only physical barrier between him and the exit was your clawed hand, placed protectively on his bulging belly. 

Lifting your hand, he rubbed over his stomach, gasping when he felt the outline of multiple egg-shaped objects. You really had gone and impregnated him, didn’t you?

Sighing, he closed his eyes again. Escaping could wait. For now, being surrounded by the warmth of the nest and the fullness of his eggs would do.  masterlist!

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Wrongful Imprisonment

Male Alpha Yandere Prisoner x Omega Male Reader CW: Noncon, imprisonment, prison setting, knotting, mating cycles, a/b/o, rut/heat, knotting, size difference, ass eaten like it's groceries, general yandere behavior Word Count: 2k (Sorry this took so long.)

You never thought you would find yourself in prison. But there you were. Locked away in a minimum security facility.

You were innocent. When your home was raided you had no idea there were drugs there. Your boyfriend at the time had put all the blame on you to escape punishment.

What's worse was that you were an omega sentenced to a mixed facility full of alphas. Since male omegas were so rare no one bothered to make separate facilities for them.

They forcefully drugged away your heats to the best of their ability but the meds had side effects on your mood and gave you dizzy spells. And they weren't perfect. Even without a heat a faint scent of omega peaked through. During heats it was a bit more pronounced.

To some of the alphas who had been there for years it was enough to get their interest. And they were not men whose interest you wanted.

It was terrifying. The cells had no doors so you were in constant fear that you'd wake up with a rapist over you.

The guards were no help. You did your best to avoid all of the alphas of ill intent for as long as you could manage it, but one time you were cornered.

They had followed you in from the yard and crept up behind you. You flailed, scratched, and bit but they didn't take your struggles well and beat you until you stopped fighting.

You could hear them snickering as one slammed his knee into your gut before giving you two brutal punches to the face. You doubled over in pain, your nose bloody and tears cascading down your swollen face.

"Just be a good cock sleeve and stay still"

You felt your pants being yanked down to your knees.

"Look at how tight it's pussy is!"

You prepared for the worst, unable to eek out any pleas over your ragged sobs of hurt and fear.

But the worst never happened. Instead you heard growling followed by hisses and cries of pain.

Your pants were pulled up and you were helped onto your shaky feet.

In front of you stood a sweaty mountain of a man. He was about your age. Tan skin and red hair. All muscle. Probably spent every free moment lifting weights.

Which wasn't really true. Lately he also spent a lot of time watching you from a distance. Trying to get to know the one who's scent called to him so strongly despite the suppressants.

"Th-tha-th-" You tried to mutter a thanks, but your assault and near rate had sent you into a full panic attack.

"Shhh, don't try to talk. It's okay."

His green eyes stared into yours as he inspected your facial injuries. Nothing was broken.

He gently led you back to his doorless cell. The cells had a lot of traffic. You were a bit nervous but you were more scared to be alone and if he had wanted to hurt you he could have.

At least, that's what you had thought. Though you were completely unaware of how badly he wanted to bend you over and fill your body full of his seed. Unlike the brutes from before though he at least wanted you to moan and cling to him while he did it.

He introduced himself and you managed to return the courtesy once your sobs had lessened.

His name was Lance.

And over the months you spent in prison the two of you had become very close.

He kept you within his sight at all times and made sure you were safe. The two of you even managed to have it arranged where you could share the same cell so he could protect you at night and prevent you from getting a bad roommate.

Lance also rubbed all your clothes every morning on him so they had his scent to keep you safe.

The alpha even had the idea to give you a claiming bite just to make sure no one would try anything.

You allowed him to do so, you didn't think it meant anything. In fact, he had reassured you that it hadn't. It was just another measure to protect you.

Of course that wasn't how the alpha saw it at all. Even though he hadn't bed you he considered you his mate. And really, if anything, the fact you were so naïve about it only proved that he was taking the correct course of action.

You were too trusting and soft. That's how you had ended up there in the first place. That's why those vermin tried to get their unworthy hands on you.

You were his mate. Even if you didn't know it yet. You needed him.

And he needed you too. Your scent and personality drove him to keep you safe. So kind. A perfect mate for him. You were the only light in his otherwise miserable existence. To say that you were as essential as oxygen to him would be an understatement.

And after he saved you from those lesser alphas his instincts screamed that he owned you. He had won you in a physical contest.

The alpha just had to calm himself down and be patient. He would get you gradually. He was confident he was almost there.

Until you got the news that you were being released early because new evidence had come to light.

Lance feigned joy at the news.

"I am glad... a place like this really isn't for a person like you..."

"Yeah! And now I won't have to be such a burden to you anymore either! Thanks for helping me so much Lance, you're a great friend. I'll miss you."

Inwardly Lance wanted to go on a rampage. His mate was being taken away from him! He wouldn't be able to protect you. Someone might try to hurt you and touch you with hands unworthy of your skin.

The mere thought filled him with unbridled anger.

Lance knew what he had to do.

/////////

It had been just a couple months since your release and you were adjusting about as well as could be expected for someone in your situation.

You had been money from a settlement for being falsely imprisoned so finances weren't an issue. But you had no friends on the outside anymore. You had nothing to do.

And the ptsd from over a year of living like an animal was immense.

The hardest thing to adjust to, at least physically, was no longer being on industrial strength suppressants. And the very strong heats that accompanied that change.

It was during one such extreme heat that Lance broke out of prison and was making his way up the hill right towards your secluded home. He could smell you from far off.

He was in rut. He had not seen his omega in months. And he could smell your heat.

The alpha was coming for you... and very soon... he would be cumming in you.

When he came upon your home he noticed the window was open. You were so careless! Just letting your damn heat scent drift out and attract any piece of shit alpha right to your open window!! You were really fucking lucky you had such a dedicated mate like him though. So loyal that he broke through prison to take care of you.

He watched you for a minute through your open window. Poor little omega. Writhing in your empty nest. No alpha scent to soothe you. Your nude form hot and sweaty, jerking your cock and bucking your hips fervently, a puddle of slick staining your blankets. And the smell was insane, practically screaming for someone to slide in you.

But fate had provided you with a strong lover that was going to fuck all your frustrations right away.

As he stepped through your window your eyes snapped to him immediately, his musky smell grabbing your attention. “L-lance? B-but…”

“I got out for you. Now I can help you and we can be together.” His voice was low and raspy. Almost animalistic.

You recoiled in fear of him and fell out of your bed.

Lance was hurt that his precious lover was scared of him, but he understood. Past lovrs had hurt you and other alphas had tried to rape you very violently. But that’s not what he would do. He was going to keep you safe. Take care of your needs.

“You n-need to leave Lance.”

It was so hard to think clearly. Your body was on fire and his smell was so comforting even though you didn’t want his knot in you. He was still an attractive alpha who you had been close to and your body wanted to be closer. And he could smell it.

“No. I need to breed my husband.”

“Lance, y-you’re not my-”

He stood over you and picked you up easily, putting you back into your nest. He knelt beside it so that his head was right by your ass that was hanging off. He positioned your legs on his shoulders and inhaled deeply.

The scent you were giving off was too captivating, especially there, he could no longer even process your words. He tenderly nuzzled his nose beneath your balls, drinking in the scent and kissing each of your nuts gently before focusing his attention on your needy, slick-leaking hole.

He stared at it in awe for a moment, like a dragon appraising his most precious treasure.

Lance slid his tongue right in and began wriggling it to get at every inch he could reach, reveling in the needy sounds you made between your flustered protests. He kissed it and removed his lips, a small string of drool and slick briefly connecting your hole with his lips.

The alpha then flipped you on to your belly and climbed into the nest with you after discarding his pants and underwear, he took off his sweaty shirt and laid it under your head so you could enjoy his scent while he bred you. He put your head down and kept your ass up. You would have protested, but you couldn’t stay in your right mind any longer.

Not after the tongue fucking he had given you, not with his scent so concentrated with your face pressed into it.

You gripped his shirt and pressed it closer to you, trying to inhale the musk as much as you possibly could. His heart leapt at the sight of it all. His little omega was presenting so nicely for him all while drowning so willingly in his smell.

He gripped your hips firmly, but still careful not to hurt you as he sank his cock into you deeply.

Lance gasped as the wet heat engulfed his entire length. You fit over him so well. There was not a fraction of a doubt in his mind, you were made just for him.

You moaned and drooled into the shirt your loving mate had provided as his flesh smacked against yours. Faster and faster he slammed into you with your slutty noises driving him on until his knot swelled and his cum was pumped into you.

The alpha renewed that claiming bite he had given you as the two of you became tied together and while licking your fresh wound he lightly humped into you until you came hard as well. He caged your body with his and held you tightly to him as you both panted and waited for the knot to go down.

As your mind temporarily cleared you were aware that this was not something you wanted.

But it wasn’t something that you could fight either.

After everything you had been through you were still just a prisoner.

[princessbrunette]

people often ask if rafe is ever nice to puppy!reader. of course he is. he just has to be in the right mood.

it wasn’t any kind of behaviour from you that he wasn’t expecting — you were a pogue for gods sake, and one that acted like a stray dog at best — so when you come running into tanny hill after falling out a nearby tree with a bloody hand, rafe is far from surprised.

“the hell did you do now?” he drawls, instantly lifting you under the arms and walking you like that to the kitchen sink as you sob. it had scared you more than anything, and he could tell straight off looking at it that it wasn’t broken or sprained — just all bloody which made it look a lot worse than it was. rafe had his fair share of accidents growing up, especially getting into fights with guys from your side of the island, so he was used to patching up his own hands and wrists.

he places you infront of the tap, listening to your whines and sniffles as you run your hand under the cold water, watching the red slowly wash away as rafe rummages in the drawers for the first aid kit, exasperatedly opening it up on the kitchen counter. he dabs at your hand with a paper towel, drying it off before rustling around the kit.

“the fuck were you thinking, huh? could have knocked yourself out. maybe that would teach you.” he lectures, but he’s not particularly in the worst mood so there’s no real threat behind it. “keep your hand still, alright?” he mutters, quietly in concentration as he begins to wrap it with a bandage.

but the tears keep coming, so unlike your usual happy silly ways. once you’re all bandaged he lets you snuggle against him there in the kitchen, getting tears and snot all over his polo as he sighs, shaking his head and rubbing your back. when you don’t stop crying, really working yourself into a state he feels he has no choice but to lift you, letting you wrap your legs around his waist and burrow into his shoulder.

“alright— okay, it’s over, it’s done kid— just quit crying. you’re fine.” he bounces you anyway and you calm slightly, feeling better now that he was holding you. he was coming to learn that sometimes that was all you needed and a little bit of kindness and warmth went a long way with him. he told himself he’d work on it because it did not come too naturally.

he’s not sure what else to do in terms of physical comfort, so he does what he knows best and snakes his hand under your denim skirt over your ass where he’s holding you. you quiet down a little more, permitting him, drooling and chewing on the collar of his polo.

“yeah… that better?” he asks once he starts rubbing you over your panties and you let out a loud shaky breath, nodding against him. “m’talkin’ to you kid, speak.”

“yes feels b’tter…” you hiccup and he deflates a little, relaxing into it there and then in the tanny hill kitchen as he continues stroking you, listening to your breathing calm.

soon, he’s fucking your clit with his thumb, knuckles deep with your legs still pinned around his waist, voice cracking and breaking into his shoulder. you let out a particularly loud sob and he tsks.

“hey, don’t start this shit again on me alright? just take it… thats right.” he manages to bounce you a little, forcing his fingers deeper and you go limp, body weight dropping against him even more. “uh-huh. got what you need, don’t i?” he mutters as you groan, unable to speak.

say what you want about rafe, but he’d always help you out when you need it.

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now

in which a impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

[mysicklove]

cw: sub! megumi, dom! gn! reader, overstimulation, handjobs (as always), dacryphilia, slight sadism in reader, slight masochism in megumi? teasing, "good boy" used once.

wc: 1.3k

a/n: i have been recently hating my writing style guys what do I do </3 also I did this instead of hw so tonight is gonna suck.

“waitwaitwaitwait!” megumi mumbles into your neck for the third time this night. you feel another round of tears drip onto your collarbone, and shaky hands grip your t-shirt in a plea. he was naked — his pale skin seeming to flush a shade of red, and his spine was curved as he caved in over himself.

your thumb circles around the tip, teasing it until you watch another glob of precum bead at his slit. you crane your neck to look at him, using your free hand to tilt his chin up to press a small kiss to his lips. “doing so good,” you mumble into his mouth, and he lets out a broken sob, “staying still and taking it. we don’t need any rope today.”

his whole body feels to be on fire, and with every stroke of your hand, a whole new wave of overstimulation forces another shiver. the boy's mouth hangs open, lip glistening from a mix of saliva from your mouth and tears. “you’re so mean to me."

“poor thing,” you coo, knowing that you aren't going to do anything about his complaint. instead, you use your thumb to brush away some tears. he sniffles at you, nodding his head to hopefully coax some more praise. but your mind travels back to your movements, your wrists twisting back and forth as you focus on the red tip. “but you look so cute like this, i can’t help it, y’know that.”

his head falls back onto your shoulder, and immediately, he plants kisses on your neck, nibbling at the skin to try and distract himself. the top of his dark hair was matted with sweat, but the tips of it tickled your collarbone. you use your thumb to rub at his cheek as you continue to stroke him off, ignoring his sporadic jerks of pain. “can you cum again? just one more time, for me?”

the noise megumi lets out is meek, pathetic even, and he shakes his head into your chest. he has begun to hiccup from the intensity of his sobs, and his hand hasn't moved from gripping fiercely at your shirt. "last one," he breathes, rubbing his nose into your skin, "p-promise its the last one!"

you grab his face again with one hand and begin to pepper it with kisses, successfully wiping away more tears as he whines with shut eyes. his eyelashes are globbed together, and when he opens them again, he narrows them at you, slightly peeved and scared at your lack of response. "promise," he manages to get out before he bites his lip from you rubbing your pointer finger over his slit.

"fine, fine, I promise," you concede, and your hand stops teasing him, instead fully pumping him from base to tip. the act makes his thighs tremble, and you push them slightly more apart to give you easier access. the redness of his cock contrasts his pale skin adorably, and you can't help you're staring as he continues to leak.

"it hurts," he whimpers, mostly to himself, because all he can think about is how overwhelmed he feels. his thoughts are spinning, and even just the slightest touches on other parts of his body seem to startle him due to him focusing his entire attention on trying not to rip your hand off of his cock.

you don't pay attention to the whine, instead just pressing more kisses to his flushed cheeks, nibbling gently at the flesh while he sniffles. but, even with all the complaints and whines he was letting out, you've noticed that his hips have begun to buck back into your hand, only making the lewd noise louder. he tries to pretend that it was you who was torturing him, but his movements were of his own free will.

"you like it now?"

"no!" he says much too quickly, flashing you panicked eyes. "i-i just. 's not my fault!" at this point, you have fully stopped your movements just to watch in admiration of the boy. he was desperate in his movements, and with each thrust of his hips into the makeshift hole a coo leaves your mouth.

"aw, look, now you're getting excited. do you want to cum, megumi?" you purr, brushing his bangs back while twisting your other wrist. his eyes roll back, and his mouth remains open as he lets out quick, short breaths. now, his noises consisted more of moans rather than pained whimpers as he started to chase his high.

"n-no—yes. fuck I-" is all he manages to get out before your mouth is pressed onto his. but he pulls away only five seconds later due to his rapid heartbeat and the need for oxygen to keep up with it. you just chuckle at him and increase your speed, eyes flickering from the sight between his legs and his flushed face.

his thighs begin to squeeze shut, and his moans begin to increase in pitch, a telltale sign that he is teetering near his high. you chuckle at him when he begins to latch onto your neck, planting sloppy kisses to whatever surface he can. "are you close?"

he doesnt even attempt to speak, instead just nodding his head lazily. the act makes you roll your eyes and squeeze just a tad too hard on his dick in warning. he lets out a squeak at the feeling, and this time he does speak up. "yeah. yes. yes. c-close."

you pet his head, satisfied with his answer. "good boy. you can cum, alright?"

another set of tears pools in his eyes, and this time you cock your head to the side. "why are you crying 'gumi? I didn't hurt you that bad, did I?"

"no," he sniffles, "sorry d-dont stop. feels good, don't know why I'm crying. just don't stop!"

"relax. relax. I'm not," you reassure, kissing his face again. "you're lucky you are so cute, with all your demands."

he ignores you like he usually does when you tease him, but you are unsure if it is because he is being his usual self or because he is lost in pleasure.

seconds later, his hands grab at your shoulder, and he goes silent for a breath. then, just as the first rope shoots out, he cries, "cuming! of fuck. fuck!"

your lover's entire body quivers, and his mouth latches into your skin as the first wave washes over him. his eyes roll back and his mouth falls open with a silent scream. more tears come tumbling down his face, and you watch as the most pathetic amount of cum tonight comes dribbling out. it slides down his flushed cock and mixes with the movements of your hands.

eventually, when he comes down from his high and feels the stinging lick of overstimulation once again, he immediately forces your hand off, pinning the white-stained limb to the ground with frantic eyes. then he turns to you, even with his body jerking every couple of seconds from the aftershock, and glares at you — it doesn't hold much effect, considering his cheeks were flushed red and eyelashes were wet with tears, but it was cute nonetheless. "no. more."

you grin at the demand and use your clean hand to ruffle his hair. "your wish is my command, princess."

he narrows his eyes at the nickname, and the man tears himself from your arms. "I am going to shower," he mumbles before using all of his strength to stand up. he takes a step forward, and immediately he comes tumbling down.

megumi pretends he doesn't see the way his legs are trembling, but you see the way his ear twinged red in humiliation. you, of course, use it to your advantage. "need a little help there, Bambi?"

"you're not allowed to touch me for a week," he grumbles but grabs onto your arm and lets himself be left to the bathroom. it was an empty threat, as they usually are.

[hoshifighting]

heyy there!!

I was wondering if you could write a fiction where the svt members give a silent treatment to the reader but she is too sensitive and starts crying (because she thinks she doesn't deserve them)

Please feel free to reject it if ur uncomfortable 😚😚

seventeen reaction when you start to cry when they give you a silent treatment

a/n: guyyyys im the worst with angst, but i tried!! 🙏

seungcheol the second you start shaking, he’s up on his feet, crossing the room and pulling you into a tight, crushing hug. he’s warm, solid, his hand gently cradling the back of your head. “my fault, my fault, my fault,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “i should’ve been better. i should’ve stopped this. i didn’t mean to hurt you. god, i didn’t mean it.”

jeonghan’s regretting it the whole time. too good at keeping his distance, until he sees the tears running down your cheeks. then, he freezes “hey, hey…” he pulls you into his arms, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “shit, i’m sorry. you know i was just being stupid, right?” he leans his forehead against yours, brushing his fingers through your hair. “don’t cry, baby. it kills me to see you like this.”

joshua he’s always so gentle, i dont even see him giving silent treatment to someone. he’s instantly at your side, cupping your face in his hands. “please don’t cry. i hate this. i hate that i made you feel like this.” his voice wavers as he presses his lips to your forehead, his touch feather-light. “i love you, okay? i’m so sorry. i should’ve never let it get this far.”

junhui’s been avoiding your gaze, trying to keep the silence going even though it’s killing him. that first broken sob makes him almost freak out, he’s at your side, his hands trembling as he touches your arm. “oh— i— no, don’t cry,” he murmurs, his voice in purew panic. he gently pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

hoshi snapd. of course he snaps. he practically flies out of his seat, rushing over to you, arms wide. “oh, shit—no, no, don’t cry, don’t cry,” he blurts out, voice frantic as he wraps you up in the tightest hug, almost lifting you off the ground with how desperate he is. his fingers stroke your back awkwardly, trying to soothe you, and his voice is trembling.

wonwoo when he sees the tears fall, something inside him bursts. he’s not good at dealing with emotions, but he can’t just sit there while you’re crying. he pulls you gently onto his lap, his hand awkwardly stroking your hair. “i’m sorry, i don’t always know how to show it… but i care. a lot. i never wanted to make you cry.” he presses a kiss to your temple, his heart racing. “don’t cry, please. or I will cry too.” wonwoo says—already crying.

woozi stands up, awkwardly hovering for a second before pulling you into a tight hug. “fuck… i’m sorry,” he whispers against your hair. “i didn’t mean to push you this far.” his grip on you tightens, and he rests his chin on your head, letting out a shaky breath. “i can’t stand seeing you like this.” fingers twitching like he’s about to break any second.

minghao crouches down now too, right in front of you. he doesn’t say much at first, just gently tugs your hands away from your face, his touch delicate, like he’s scared to break you even more. “this was stupid, i shouldn’t have done this. it was childish.” he holds your gaze, his eyes serious “you didn’t deserve that.” kisses the back of your hands, laying his head on your knees begging you for forgiveness.

mingyu is already full of shame before you even start crying. but when the sobs hit, he stops dead in his tracks. he rushes to you, kneeling down in front of you. his large hands cup your face, and his thumbs brush away your tears. “fuck, i never wanted to make you cry.” his voice cracks, and he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug, his head buried in your shoulder. looks like he’s about to break down himself.

seokmin gets on his knees beside you, eyes wide and watery, his usual smile completely gone. “my love i—” he says in this tiny voice, like he’s terrified he made everything worse. his hands flutter near your arm before he finally grips your sleeve like he needs you to believe him. “please don’t cry because of me.”

seungkwan’s been fidgeting the whole time, hating every second of the silence. thinking it couldn't get worse until you break in front of him “oh my god,” he blurts out, rushing over to you, his voice frantic. he pulls you into his arms, holding you as tight as he can. he lets out a shaky breath. “you’re everything to me. i’m sorry for making you feel like this.”

vernon is not sure how to fix it, thinking that in all ways, this sucked. the second you start crying, his chest tightens, and he’s at your side, pulling you into his lap. “i’m so so sorry. i didn’t mean to let it get this bad.” he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, trying to look into your eyes, pressing his lips into a line when you look away. “i’m here, okay? i’m here.” he presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

chan would be standing by the door, but the second you sob again, he’s crossing the room in three big steps, hands flinching to touch you and flinching back at him again as if he would burn you if he did. he would rather sit beside you still in silence, to find the best words since he hasn't talked during this whole time.

[pucksandpower]

Break In, Breakdown

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: when a break in destroys your peace of mind, Charles is determined to do all he can to help you regain it

Warnings: armed forcible entry

You wake with a start, your heart pounding. The sound of shattering glass echoes through the spacious apartment.

You sit up slowly, straining to hear any other noises over the hammering of your pulse. Charles is away for the night, called suddenly to Maranello earlier to test new upgrades.

You’re alone.

Sliding out from beneath the covers, you tiptoe to the bedroom door and ease it open. The living room is cast in shadow, shards of moonlight slicing through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Broken glass glitters across the hardwood. A cool breeze drifts in through the now empty pane.

You freeze, listening. The only sound is the thudding of your heart. Whoever broke in must still be here. You consider your options. The front door is on the other side of the living room — you would never make it. The balcony? No, you’re too high up.

That leaves only one choice. The bathroom.

As soundlessly as you can, you close the bedroom door and lock it, then dash on trembling legs into the en-suite bathroom. You lock this door too, then scramble for your phone. Your hands are slick with cold sweat as you dial Charles’ number.

“Hello?” His voice, groggy with sleep, comes over the line. In the background, you hear the muffled sounds of his hotel room.

“Charles!” You whisper urgently. “Someone broke into the apartment!”

“What?” All traces of sleepiness vanish from his tone. Fabric rustles as he sits up quickly. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m locked in the bathroom. I heard glass breaking and got scared. I didn’t know what else to do!” Your voice cracks as you struggle to keep it low. Tears blur your vision.

“Shh shh, it’s okay. You did the right thing.” Charles soothes. “Did you see anyone?”

You hug your knees to your chest. “No, the living room was empty when I looked. But they have to still be here!”

A tense silence. Then rapid French. You imagine Charles running a hand through his tousled hair, brow creased in thought.

“The police are on their way,” he says finally. “They’ll be there soon. Just stay hidden and keep talking to me, alright?”

You nod before remembering he can’t see you. “Okay.”

For a few moments, the only sounds are your shaky breathing and the muffled noises of Charles moving around his hotel room. You flinch as a loud bang echoes through the apartment, followed by heavy footsteps. Whoever broke in is still here, and on the move.

“I heard something,” you whisper to Charles. “I think they’re looking for me.”

“It’s going to be okay.” Charles’ voice remains steady, but you hear the undercurrent of fear. “Help is coming. Just stay quiet and-”

He cuts off as the bathroom doorknob rattles violently. You slap a hand over your mouth to hold in a scream.

“Y/N? What was that?” Charles demands.

“They’re trying to get in!” You whimper. “The doorknob ...”

Another bang shakes the door. You scramble into the empty bathtub, trying to make yourself smaller. If they get in here, you have nowhere to go.

“Y/N, listen to me.” Charles speaks urgently. “I need you to stay calm. Breathe. The police will be there any minute.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears leaking down your cheeks. “Okay,” you whisper.

The intruder hammers on the door again. Wood splinters — it won’t hold much longer. You think of Charles’ smile, his bright green eyes. You wish more than anything he was here with you now, holding you in his strong arms. But he’s hours away, and can do nothing but listen helplessly as danger looms.

“Charles?” You say softly.

“Yes? I’m right here.” His voice cracks.

“I love you.” You put as much feeling into the words as you can. Just in case they’re your last. “So much.”

“Oh god, Y/N ...” Charles trails off. You hear a muffled sob. “I love you too. More than you can imagine. You mean everything to me.”

The bathroom door splinters open. A masked figure looms in the doorway, gun glinting dully in their hand. Your scream lodges in your throat.

Charles is saying your name, voice panicked. You can’t find the air to respond. This is it. You close your eyes as the intruder raises their gun.

A deafening bang. Your scream. Then … nothing.

When you force your eyes open, the intruder is being detained on the floor. In their place stand two police officers, weapons drawn.

“Madame, are you hurt?” One officer approaches slowly, holstering his gun.

You shake your head mutely. On the phone, Charles is frantically calling your name.

“I’m okay,” you gasp out. “The police are here.”

Charles’ ragged exhale echoes your own shaking breath. You cling to the phone like a lifeline. He murmurs reassuring words as the officers help you from the tub and wrap a blanket around your shoulders.

When you finally end the call, your hands shake so badly you nearly drop the phone. You wish desperately to feel his arms around you.

But the police insist no one can enter until the scene is processed. You wait alone on the sofa, raw fear seeping from your bones and leaving you limp and exhausted. As dawn lightens the shattered window frames, Charles’ car screeches into the street. He’s still in a rumpled t-shirt and pajama pants, hair wild from raking his fingers through it. The moment his gaze lands on you, he’s across the room, gathering you against his chest. You cling to him, finally letting the terrified tears fall.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe now,” he murmurs against your hair.

You breathe him in, the familiar smell of his skin and cologne. Here, wrapped in his embrace, you can almost believe the words are true.

***

Morning light filters through the blinds of Charles’ childhood bedroom, casting stripes across the quilt tucked around you.

It’s strange, being surrounded by remnants of his boyhood. Posters of racing legends. Miniature models of the Ferrari Enzo and Michael Schumacher’s F2002. A framed picture of a beaming preteen Charles standing in front of a gleaming kart. You trail your eyes over the silver trophies lining the shelves. Hard to believe that bright-eyed boy would become your own champion one day.

It seems easier to focus on the distant past than to think about the present.

You’ve barely slept, your body tense as a livewire beneath the covers. Every small noise makes you flinch.

Charles’ arms tighten around you. His chest rises and falls steadily with sleep against your back. Being here, wrapped securely in his embrace, is the only thing that kept hysteria at bay through the long night.

You shift carefully in his arms, turning to study his face. His features are relaxed, lips parted slightly. Dark stubble shadows his jaw. He looks younger like this, the crease between his brows smoothed away. You reach out to brush an unruly lock of hair off his forehead.

At your touch, his brows pinch. Slowly his eyes drift open, blinking against the sunlight. He offers a drowsy smile.

“Hi,” he murmurs.

“Hi.” You try to return the smile, but it wavers. Being awake again means facing the suffocating weight of remembered fear.

Charles’ own smile fades. Propping himself up on one elbow, he reaches to cradle your face in his palm. “How are you feeling?”

You open your mouth to respond, but your throat closes up. You just shake your head, feeling the sting of tears.

“Oh, mon amour.” Charles pulls you against his chest. You cling to him, fighting back sobs.

He begins to slowly stroke your hair. “It’s okay. Let it out.”

You do, great heaving sobs muffled in his t-shirt. He holds you silently, lips moving against your hair in a continuous litany of comfort.

When the storm of weeping passes, you keep your head tucked beneath his chin. His steady heartbeat thumps against your cheek.

“I’m scared,” you whisper finally.

His arms tighten around you. “I know. But I promise, you’re safe here. No one can hurt you.”

You nod against his chest. But the truth haunts you — nowhere feels safe anymore. Not when someone invaded the place you called home. Violated your very sense of security.

Sensing your spiraling thoughts, Charles pulls back. He tilts your chin up until your tearful gaze meets his.

“Listen to me. I will do whatever it takes to make sure you feel safe again. We’ll find a new apartment, one with top of the line security. I’ll hire personal protection to be with you whenever I can’t. Whatever you need, just say the word.”

You search his eyes, finding only earnestness and love shining back. “You’d really do all that for me?”

He brushes his thumb over your cheekbone. “Of course. I’d move heaven and earth for you. Your safety and peace of mind are the most important things in the world to me.”

Fresh tears well in your eyes, but this time touched by gratitude. You lean in to brush a soft kiss over his lips. “Thank you. Just … thank you.”

He smiles tenderly, kissing the tip of your nose. “Always.”

The bedroom door creaks open slowly. Charles’ mother peers in.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” She bustles into the room bearing a heavily laden breakfast tray. “I’ve brought up some breakfast. You both must be famished.”

She settles the tray over your laps before perching on the edge of the bed. Reaching out, she pats your blanket-covered knee.

“How are you holding up, dear?” Her eyes, so like your husband’s, are full of maternal concern.

You muster a shaky smile. “As well as I can be. Thank you again for letting us stay here.”

“Of course, of course!” She waves a hand. “You’re family. Mi casa es su casa, as they say.”

Charles reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he smiles gratefully at his mother. “We really appreciate it, Maman. This means the world to us right now.”

Pascale pats his cheek fondly. “I’m always here if you need me. Both of you.” She stands. “Now, eat up while it’s still warm!”

After the door clicks shut behind Pascale, Charles passes you a mug of hot tea. The chamomile soothes your frayed nerves. Under Charles’ attentive care, you manage to eat a few bites of crepe. But your appetite remains muted, stomach churning with anxiety.

Sensing your lingering unease, Charles sets the tray aside. He shifts down on the bed, resting his head on the pillow beside yours. You roll onto your side facing him.

His hand comes up to trail soothingly along your arm. “Talk to me. What can I do?”

You chew your lower lip. “Just hold me? I’m still feeling really shaky.”

“Of course.” He opens his arms and you nestle against his chest. His steady heartbeat thumps beneath your ear.

You cling to him like a life raft, fighting against the rising tide of panic. “I can’t stop imagining it all happening again. What if they find us again?”

Charles frames your face in both hands. His gaze bores fiercely into yours. “Listen to me. I will never let anyone hurt you. Not here, not anywhere. I promise you that.”

His passionate sincerity helps loosen the iron bands constricting your lungs. You can breathe a little easier.

“Okay.” You whisper. “I trust you.”

He presses a fervent kiss to your forehead. “I’ll do whatever it takes to rebuild that sense of safety for you. For now, just try to rest. You’re exhausted.”

He’s right. Bone-deep fatigue drags at you. But every time you close your eyes, visions of leering masked faces loom in the darkness. You shrink closer to Charles with a whimper.

“Shh, I’ve got you.” His arms tighten around you. “Focus on me, the sound of my voice. Picture us somewhere you feel totally at peace.”

You press your ear over his heart again, letting its steady rhythm center you. “Tell me about it? The peaceful place.”

“Hmm ...” He strokes your hair thoughtfully. “How about a tropical island? Powder-fine sand, so white it’s nearly blinding. The water so perfectly blue and clear, like colored glass. Gentle waves lapping the shore.”

You can picture it perfectly with the aid of his lyrical descriptions. The sun warming your skin, Charles’ hand clasped in yours as you stroll the beach. A light breeze tossing his hair as his laughter mingles with the cries of seabirds.

“There’s a little cabana right on the water, with an open balcony and gauzy curtains fluttering in the wind ...”

Lulled by Charles’ calming voice, you feel your body slowly relax, sinking into the mattress. He continues spinning vivid visions until you finally drift off. Safe in the circle of his arms, nightmares can’t reach you.

When you wake, sunlight slants through the blinds at a different angle.

Afternoon.

You’re curled on your side, Charles a solid weight against your back. His chin rests atop your head, arms wound protectively around you even in sleep.

You snuggle back into his embrace. For the first time since the break in, you feel a spark of hope. With Charles by your side, you know you’ll get through this. He’ll keep you safe.

***

Keys jangle outside the door of your new apartment. You look up from your book with a smile as Charles steps inside, hiding something behind his back.

“What are you up to?” You ask, marking your page. Ever since you moved, Charles has been full of little surprises to help you feel at home.

He grins, eyes glinting. “I have someone who wants to meet you.” From behind his back he produces a tiny black Doberman puppy with soulful dark eyes. It squirms eagerly in his hands.

You gasp, immediately reaching for the pup. Its pink tongue darts out to lick your fingertips. “You didn’t!”

Charles laughs. “I wanted to get you a guard dog, one specially trained to protect you. She’ll go everywhere with us once she’s fully grown.”

Cradling the puppy to your chest, you nuzzle into her silky fur. Her tail thumps happily against your arm. “Well aren’t you just the sweetest little guard dog ever,” you coo. Looking into her deep brown eyes, one name springs to mind.

“I think I’ll call her Princess Fluffykins.” You grin up at Charles.

He rubs a hand over his mouth to hide a smile. “Princess Fluffykins it is.”

The newly christened Princess Fluffykins snuggles into you with a contented whine. Over the next few weeks she rarely leaves your side. At night she curls up at the foot of the bed, a tiny furry protector. During the day she trots after you from room to room, always alert for any signs of danger.

But none of her vigilance stops her from demanding regular belly rubs or stealing socks to play with. Princess Fluffykins she may be, but she’s still a puppy at heart.

As the weeks pass, she sprouts into a leggy adolescent, all huge paws and awkward angles. But her devotion never wavers. She accompanies you everywhere, even to Charles’ races.

The first time you arrive at a circuit with Princess Fluffykins straining at her leash, you get some strange looks. People eye the muscular dog warily, giving you a wide berth. Princess Fluffykins has matured into an intimidating specimen, despite the sparkly pink collar now circling her thick neck.

Charles just grins, ruffling her perked ears. “I know she looks scary, but I promise she’s a softie,” he assures the dubious Ferrari mechanics. Right on cue, Princess Fluffykins flops to her back, tail wagging furiously until someone gives in and rubs her belly. Charles winks at you. “See?”

When Charles disappears into briefings or practice sessions, Princess Fluffykins patrols tirelessly by your side. She positions herself between you and anyone who approaches, watchful eyes tracking each stranger. But the moment she detects true danger, her demeanor shifts in an instant.

One particularly eventful race weekend, a drunken fan gets belligerent shoving past you for an autograph. Princess Fluffykins is on him in a flash, knocking him back with a deep bellow. He recoils instantly, throwing his hands up and stammering apologies. You cling to Princess Fluffykins’ collar as she nudges you protectively behind her muscular bulk.

“Good girl,” you murmur, stroking her bristling fur until she relaxes. Over Princess Fluffykins’ broad head, you give the chastened fan a polite smile. Message received.

As you make your way to the garage, passerby give you and your four-legged bodyguard a wide berth. But Princess Fluffykins ignores the murmurs, attention fixed devotedly on you. Her responsibilities may be serious, but everything about her remains hilariously contradictory — the bejeweled collar, fluffy fur, even her tendency to doze off using Charles’ race boots as a pillow. You wouldn’t have her any other way.

Over time, Princess Fluffykins becomes as much a fixture at races as Charles himself. On mornings when you’re feeling anxious, you clip on Princess Fluffykins’ leash and walk the familiar route to the paddock, drawing comfort from each heavy footstep echoing your own. The bulk of her pressing against your legs makes you feel sheltered … protected.

When Charles is busy with sponsor events and interviews, Princess Fluffykins is your constant companion. She positions her large frame strategically to keep you shielded from jostling fans in the crowded paddock. Her intimidating presence and rumbling growl are enough to make even boisterous enthusiasts reconsider approaching too closely at the wild after parties.

At night in hotel rooms, Princess Fluffykins curls up on the foot of the bed, ever alert. The sound of her steady breathing soothes you to sleep. And in new cities where sounds and shadows put you on edge, her solid weight pinning your feet beneath the blankets makes you feel anchored.

On bad nights when phantom terrors jerk you awake, Princess Fluffykins’ huge head rises at your distress, the light glinting off her collar. She pads up the bed to nuzzle your cheek until the panic fades.

Over time, Princess Fluffykins’ watchful presence steadies something deep inside you. Late at night, her snores harmonize with Charles’ to drive away the ghosts. Her grinning face waiting eagerly by the door when you return from a quick trip to the shops makes your apartment feel like home again. When you scratch beneath her chin, for a moment you forget about the threat, remembering only softness.

On the anniversary of the break in, emotions run close to the surface. You’re quiet on the drive to the paddock, hands knotted tightly in Princess Fluffykins’ fur. But when the time comes to part ways with Charles for the day, you find courage in Princess Fluffykins’ wiggly butt and lolling tongue. You give Charles an extra fierce hug, breathing him in.

“Love you,” you murmur into his shoulder.

Charles cradles your face in his hands, eyes serious. “I love you too. We’ve made it through so much this past year. You amaze me more every day.”

You lean into him a moment longer before braving a tremulous smile. “Go show them what you’ve got.”

With Princess Fluffykins a steady presence at your side, the day passes in a blur of heat and roaring engines. When at last Charles appears, wreathed in sweat and victory, you leap into his arms with a joyful shout. Laughing, he swings you around before setting you down to ruffle Princess Fluffykins’ ears.

“I think this calls for celebrating, what do you say?” His eyes are bright with triumph and love.

You lean down to adjust Princess Fluffykins’ glittering collar before twining your fingers through your husband’s. “I say absolutely.”

Though the path forward held both beauty and pain, with loyal souls like them by your side, you never had to walk it alone.

[enreveriee]

♫︎ SWEATER WEATHER | N.RK

╰ one love, two mouths, one love, one house

SWEATER WEATHER: in which nishimura riki aka niki finds himself consoling his roommate aka you after all the bullying— and even catching your boyfriend cheating on you. . GENRE: angst, comfort and a little fluff (?). . WARNINGS: mentions of cheating, bullying, kisses, contains cuss words, lmk if I missed anything. . WORD COUNT: 10k

YOU swore to yourself you’d never cry in front of anyone, to never show that kind of vulnerability. But here you were, curled up in a fetal position on your small, single bed, muffling your sobs into your pillow.

The dim light from the street lamp outside barely lit the room, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch and claw at the walls, matching the heaviness in your chest. You felt suffocated, every breath shaky as if the weight of everything pressed down on you, making it impossible to hold back the tears.

Niki, your roommate, sat across the room at his desk, fidgeting with the edge of his notebook, glancing at you every so often with a mix of concern and awkwardness. He had never been good at dealing with emotions—especially yours—but this was different. You were his roommate but also he had grown to see you as a friend, and seeing you like this felt like a punch to his gut.

“Did it… happen again?” Niki asked, his voice barely above a whisper, almost as if he was afraid to shatter the fragile silence. He knew about the bullying, not because you ever told him, but because the signs were always there, glaringly obvious.

He had seen the sticky notes that clung to your backpack like parasites, covered in hateful messages: “Just die,” “Kill yourself,” “Bitch,” “Fuck you.” They ranged from vicious insults to degrading taunts that made his blood boil every time he thought about them.

Then there were the days you’d walk into the dorm drenched in milk, your hair sticky and your eyes hollow, the faintest tremble in your hands as you tried to pretend it was no big deal. No one in their right mind would choose to bathe in milk, and Niki knew you were being targeted.

It didn’t stop at notes and milk either; he remembered the time your hair had been crudely chopped off. It had grown back now, but the humiliation and anger in your eyes had lingered much longer.

You sniffed, trying to stifle the sobs, but it was useless. Your shoulders shook with every cry, your hands clutching the pillow tighter as if trying to ground yourself.

Niki’s chair scraped against the floor as he finally stood up, his movements hesitant. He walked over to your bed, hovering at the edge, unsure of what to do with his hands or even how close he should get.

“Why don’t you tell someone?” Niki asked, his voice laced with frustration—not at you, but at the situation. He knelt beside your bed, his knees pressing into the cold floor, and he reached out but hesitated before pulling back his hand, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck instead. “I mean… the teachers, they have to do something, right?”

You didn’t lift your head, your voice muffled but raw. “They see it, Niki. They see it every day, and they just… don’t care. It’s easier for them to look away.”

Niki clenched his jaw, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of your bed. He wanted to punch something, anything, because he hated seeing you like this—so broken, so defeated.

He shifted, finally sitting on the edge of your bed. His hand hovered above your back, the hesitation clear, but then he gently placed it there, rubbing small, comforting circles. It was clumsy and uncertain, but it was the only thing he could think of to try and ease your pain.

You tensed at first but didn’t pull away, the warmth of his touch cutting through the cold that seemed to settle in your bones. He didn’t say anything else for a while, just sat there with you in the dim light, the rhythmic sound of his thumb tracing circles on your back the only comfort in the stillness.

“I’m here, you know?” he finally said, his voice softer now. “Even if I don’t know what to say or do, I’m here. And those assholes… they don’t get to win, okay?”

His words were simple, but they cut through the numbness, reaching a part of you that you’d kept locked away. You turned your head slightly, peeking at him through tear-streaked lashes. There was a softness in his eyes, a sincerity that made your chest tighten in a different way—something more than just pain.

“Thanks, Niki,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying. You sniffed and wiped at your face with the back of your hand, feeling a tiny, fragile spark of comfort in his presence.

Niki nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line as if holding back his own surge of emotions. He squeezed your shoulder once before letting go, staying close enough that you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.

In that quiet, shared space, the harshness of the world outside seemed a little less overwhelming, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you weren’t entirely alone.

"I'll go take a walk," you muttered under your breath, your voice barely audible as you stood by the door. The rain outside was relentless, pouring down in heavy sheets, but you didn't care. You needed to get out, to clear your mind from the suffocating weight of everything that had happened. Niki glanced up from his books briefly, his eyes filled with unspoken worry, but he didn't stop you. He knew better than to try.

With the umbrella clutched tightly in your hand, you stepped out into the cold rain, the rhythmic patter of drops on the fabric above you a faint comfort against the storm brewing inside your head. You walked with determined strides, the chill of the rain seeping through your clothes but failing to cool the burning in your chest.

You didn't know where you were headed, but your feet moved on autopilot, leading you towards the familiar path to Dowon's house. His place wasn't far; it was where you always went when you needed comfort, where his arms were supposed to be your safe haven.

You didn't think to announce your arrival -why would you? He lived alone, and you'd been over countless times without a word. As you neared his house, your heart ached with the anticipation of being held, of letting go of the tears that you'd kept bottled up all day.

But as you approached his door, something made you pause. A pair of unfamiliar heels were tossed carelessly by the entrance, a stark contrast against the neatly arranged sneakers that belonged to Dowon.

Curiosity and a growing sense of dread pulled you forward. You peeked inside the partially open bedroom door, and your heart dropped into your stomach. There, on his bed, Dowon was entangled in a mess of limbs with none other than Rina-your bully, the person who had made your life a living hell. They were wrapped around each other, oblivious to everything else, and the sound of their heavy breaths filled the small room.

"Don't worry, baby," Dowon's voice came out in ragged gasps between thrusts. "I'll make sure she doesn't come between us."

You stood frozen in the doorway, your mind struggling to process the scene in front of you. The betrayal cut deeper than anything you'd ever felt. Your boyfriend, the one person who was supposed to be on your side, was now tangled in sheets with the person who had caused you so much pain. It wasn't just cheating; it was a cruel, twisted joke at your expense.

You pushed the door open, the loud creak finally drawing their attention. Dowon looked up, but there wasn't a hint of guilt or panic in his eyes-just a bored, dismissive scoff. Rina, on the other hand, shot you a smug smirk, not even bothering to cover herself as she continued moving against him, as if your presence was nothing more than a mild inconvenience.

"Good timing," Rina muttered, her voice laced with mockery. She didn't stop, her movements only growing bolder, as if to taunt you further.

Your throat tightened, and you felt the words you wanted to scream get caught somewhere deep, locked away by the sheer disbelief and hurt. "Dowon, you?" was all you managed to choke out, but before you could say anything else, he grabbed the nearest object-a lamp-and hurled it towards you, his expression twisted with anger and annoyance.

"Get the hell out," he snarled, his voice sharp and cold, cutting through the last of your hope.

You stumbled back, the lamp shattering against the doorframe as you fled, your feet carrying you blindly through the rain. Tears mixed with the droplets on your face, but you didn't care who saw or what they thought.

The ache in your chest spread like a wildfire, every step echoing with the betrayal you had just witnessed. You wiped at your face with the back of your hand, trying to clear the tears that wouldn't stop falling. You felt stupid, lost, and utterly alone as you wandered the empty streets, your sobs lost to the relentless downpour.

"You should eat something," Niki muttered softly as he slid a steaming bowl of ramen across the small table towards you. He had taken the time to prepare it, carefully adding extra toppings in hopes of coaxing you to eat. The steam rose in gentle curls, carrying the comforting scent of warm broth and spices.

Niki, usually reserved and quiet, had been watching you with increasing concern. The dark circles under your eyes, the way you lay curled up in your bed for hours—he could see the weight you were carrying, even if you tried to hide it behind a stoic front.

"I'm not hungry," you mumbled, your voice breaking as you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself. You were sitting up, knees drawn to your chest, clutching the fabric like it was the only thing holding you together. Each sob that escaped your lips felt like it took a piece of you with it. Niki shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do with his hands that now fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

"You sound like a zombie," he joked awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood. It was an attempt to bring a smile to your tear-streaked face, but it only made your sobs deepen. The corners of your mouth trembled as if debating whether to laugh or cry harder.

Niki mentally kicked himself, regretting the attempt as soon as he saw fresh tears spill down your cheeks. He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He wasn’t good at this—comforting people wasn’t his forte, and seeing you this broken made him feel utterly helpless.

"I'll just..." He trailed off, glancing towards his desk where his open textbooks awaited him, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave your side. The weight of your sadness hung heavy in the room, more oppressive than the rain still drumming against the window outside. He rubbed the back of his neck, searching for the right words, but they eluded him.

Instead, he sat down on the edge of the bed, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him, but still keeping a respectful distance. "Just eat once you’re done sobbing," he muttered. His words came out gruffly, harsher than he intended, but the concern was unmistakable. He just wanted you to take care of yourself, even if he didn’t know how to phrase it gently.

You glanced at the bowl of ramen but didn’t make a move towards it. Your eyes drifted back to the stack of crumpled letters and torn notes scattered on your bed—hate-filled messages from Rina, Dowon, and their group.

Each one was a reminder of the bullying you faced daily, and now, to top it all off, the painful revelation that Dowon had been cheating on you with Rina. It felt like a betrayal from every corner of your world. You hadn’t eaten in over a day, but the thought of food made your stomach churn.

Niki watched you, his expression softening. He didn’t know the right words to fix this, but he felt a sharp sting in his chest seeing you like this. He wanted to reach out, to touch your shoulder or hold your hand, but he didn’t know if you’d welcome it or if it would make things worse. He rubbed his palms against his jeans, trying to muster the courage to say something that might help.

"I got cheated on too," he blurted out suddenly, his voice quiet but steady. You glanced up, surprised. It wasn’t like Niki to talk about himself, especially not about things that hurt. He kept his gaze fixed on a spot on the floor, avoiding your eyes. "People like that... they’re just the worst. Don’t dwell on it."

You let out a choked laugh, though it was far from humorous. Tears welled up anew, spilling over as you shook your head. "That was two years ago, Niki," you said between sobs, the bitterness lacing your words. "It's not the same."

He met your gaze then, his dark eyes filled with an understanding that went beyond words. "Still," he insisted softly. "It hurts, I get it. But you can't let them keep taking pieces of you like this."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back another wave of tears. "I loved him so much, but he..." Your voice broke entirely, and you couldn’t finish the sentence. The betrayal cut too deep, the pain still too raw. Your shoulders shook as the sobs overtook you again, and for a moment, Niki simply watched, feeling every tear as if it were his own.

Without a word, he scooted closer and gently scooped up a spoonful of ramen, blowing on it to cool it down. In one swift but gentle motion, he brought it to your lips. You were too startled to resist, and before you knew it, the warm broth was sliding down your throat. You blinked, surprised not only by the unexpected gesture but by how comforting the food felt, even though you hadn’t thought you could eat anything.

"Better?" Niki asked, his voice softer now, tinged with the slightest hint of a smile. "See? I’m a good cook." He kept feeding you in silence, his hand steady even as your tears continued to fall. He wasn’t great with words, but his actions spoke volumes—small, quiet gestures that showed you he cared, even if he didn’t always know how to say it.

You nodded faintly, the corners of your lips lifting just a little. "Yeah, you are," you mumbled, taking another bite as Niki held the spoon out for you. He continued to feed you, his movements patient and gentle, like he had all the time in the world. He wasn’t perfect, and he certainly wasn’t great at comforting, but in that moment, sitting beside you in the dim light of your shared dorm room, it was enough.

The next month passed in a haze. You did everything you could to avoid Dowon and Rina at school, steering clear of the places where they might be. You knew Niki was busy with his senior year, studying hard to prepare for his upcoming exams.

He had his own pressures and priorities, so you kept to the lower floors, avoiding the senior wing entirely. You didn’t want him to see you like this—crying in between classes, struggling to hold yourself together. The thought of burdening him with your constant tears made you feel even smaller.

Lunchtime arrived like any other day, and you took a deep breath as you entered the bustling school canteen. The chatter of students, the clattering of trays, and the scent of various foods filled the air. You quietly picked up a tray, moving through the line and choosing the least messy options.

Your goal was to be quick and unnoticeable, to eat alone in some quiet corner where no one would bother you. But as you were about to leave, you felt a cold, unsettling presence behind you.

Turning around, you came face-to-face with Rina. She stood there, her eyes glinting with malice and a cruel smile playing on her lips. She was taller, her posture confident and intimidating as she towered over you. The noise of the canteen seemed to quiet down, and it felt like all eyes were on the two of you. You clutched your tray tighter, already feeling your heart race in your chest.

“Look who’s here,” Rina sneered, her voice dripping with mockery. She glanced at her own tray, then back at you, a dangerous glint flashing in her eyes. “Still sulking over Dowon? You really are pathetic.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the stinging retort that threatened to spill out. You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. You tried to sidestep her, but she moved in front of you, blocking your path. You could see a few students had paused their conversations, eyes flickering towards the unfolding scene with a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

“Do you have anything to say, or are you just going to keep being a crybaby?” Rina taunted, leaning in closer. Her voice was low enough that only you could hear the venom in her words, but her expression was all show, designed to make you look small in front of everyone. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat, tangled with the overwhelming urge to cry.

Before you could react, Rina lifted her tray and, with deliberate slowness, tipped it over your head. The contents—a mix of spaghetti, sauce, and soda—splattered across your hair and uniform. You gasped, instinctively stepping back, but it was too late. The cold, sticky mess clung to your skin, sliding down the back of your neck and staining your clothes.

You heard the collective laughter of the canteen erupt around you, students pointing and whispering, their faces alight with amusement at your expense. Rina’s smirk widened, her eyes glistening with cruel satisfaction as she stepped back, admiring her handiwork. You stood there, frozen in shock and humiliation, your tray clattering to the floor with a sharp clang that echoed through the room.

“Oh, come on, don’t cry,” Rina mocked, mimicking a pout. “You’re making this too easy. It’s just a little food, right? Or maybe you should be grateful—now you have something to actually cry about.”

Your vision blurred as tears welled up in your eyes, hot and uncontainable. You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing you break, but the laughter around you felt like daggers, each one chipping away at your composure. You turned on your heel and bolted for the bathroom, ignoring the whispers and stifled giggles that followed you.

Slamming the door behind you, you rushed to the nearest stall and locked yourself inside. Your chest heaved as sobs wracked your body, the sound of your own crying muffled against the cold tiles. The food dripped from your hair and clothes, leaving greasy streaks and staining your uniform. You desperately tried to wipe it off, but the more you rubbed, the worse it seemed to get.

Why was it always you? Why did it feel like you were always the target, always the one getting hurt? You slumped against the stall wall, your legs giving out as you slid to the floor. You didn’t care that you were missing classes or that the bell had rung, signaling the end of lunch. Nothing mattered in that moment except the overwhelming, crushing feeling of isolation and betrayal.

You pulled your knees to your chest, burying your face in your hands as the sobs continued to shake you. The once warm ramen Niki had made you replayed in your mind—a small, comforting moment now overshadowed by the relentless cruelty of the world around you. It was hard to breathe through the tears, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as the humiliation washed over you in waves.

Minutes, maybe hours, passed before you dared to emerge. Your eyes were red and puffy, your cheeks stained with tears that wouldn’t stop falling. You glanced at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, seeing not just the mess of food but the reflection of a girl who felt utterly broken.

You wanted to scream, to let out the frustration and pain that had built up inside you for so long, but you couldn’t. All you could do was stand there, staring at the image of someone who couldn’t catch a break, wondering when—if ever—things would start to get better.

The knock on the bathroom door startled you, and you froze. You heard a girl's voice from the other side, timid yet urgent. “Hey, someone’s asking for you. He’s outside.”

You stopped sniffling, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand, your heart racing. The idea that it might be Dowon made your skin crawl, your mind instantly flashing back to the awful image of him with Rina. The thought of facing him now, in this state, was unbearable.

“Tell him…” your voice cracked, weak and broken. “Tell him I’m not coming out.” You sniffled, trying to keep your composure, but the tears wouldn’t stop. They never seemed to stop.

The girl’s footsteps receded, and you leaned back against the cold, tiled wall, hoping whoever was outside would just go away. You didn’t have the strength to face anyone right now, let alone the person you feared the most.

But then another voice pierced through the quiet, louder and unmistakably familiar. “Please come out. It’s me, Niki.” The urgency in his voice echoed through the empty restroom, and you could almost picture him standing there, awkwardly waiting just beyond the boundary of the girls' bathroom, trying not to overstep but too concerned to leave.

Your breath hitched. Niki? You hadn’t expected him. You didn’t want him to see you like this—disheveled, broken, and covered in food. The shame washed over you anew, and you buried your face in your hands, trying to stifle the sobs that kept bubbling up.

“Go away,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against your palms. You hoped he couldn’t hear the quiver in your tone, the way your words shook with the weight of everything you were trying to hold back. “Just go, Niki. I’m fine.”

“Please,” he called out, the desperation in his voice making your chest tighten. “Come out.”

You heard the faint creak of the bathroom door opening wider, and then footsteps—hesitant but determined—echoed against the tiles. Your breath caught. He was inside the girls' bathroom now, completely disregarding the rules, the boundaries. It was such a small, reckless act, but it meant the world in that moment.

You flinched as he gently knocked on the door to the stall you were hiding in, the sound echoing in the confined space. “I don’t care how you look,” he said softly, his voice closer now, almost a whisper but with an edge of firmness that brooked no argument. “Just come out.”

You hesitated, staring at the lock, your fingers trembling as you reached for it. Part of you wanted to stay hidden forever, to never face the world or anyone in it again. But Niki’s persistence, the unwavering concern in his voice, tugged at something deep within you. Slowly, you turned the knob and pushed the door open, revealing the sorry state you were in.

Niki’s eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of you—your uniform stained with spaghetti sauce, your hair matted and sticky, the remnants of Rina’s cruel prank all too evident. But he didn’t flinch. He didn’t make a face or step back in disgust. Instead, he moved closer, his expression shifting from shock to anger, and then to something softer, more tender.

“She did this, didn’t she?” he asked, his voice tight with barely contained fury. You nodded, a fresh wave of tears blurring your vision. You looked away, embarrassed, but he gently tilted your chin back up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“God, I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry you’re going through this.”

You tried to pull away, your hands pushing weakly against his chest. “Niki, don’t… I’ll ruin your uniform.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, thick with tears. You didn’t want to burden him with your mess, both literal and emotional.

But Niki only shook his head, his grip on your shoulders firm and steady. “That’s the last thing I care about right now,” he said, his tone resolute. His arms wrapped around you then, pulling you into his chest with a comforting pressure that was both unexpected and desperately needed. You stiffened at first, but then you sank into him, letting his warmth and the steady beat of his heart anchor you.

“I’m a mess,” you muttered, your voice breaking as you finally let yourself fall apart in his embrace. “I’m such a mess.”

He held you tighter, his chin resting atop your head as his fingers stroked your back in soothing circles. “I don’t care,” he said softly, his voice a quiet reassurance in the small, echoing space. “I’m here.”

You clung to him, your sobs quieting as the comfort of his presence washed over you. You could feel the dampness of your tears soaking into his shirt, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just kept holding you, his steady breaths matching the rhythm of your own shaky inhales and exhales.

“You’re in the girls’ bathroom,” you mumbled after a while, your voice muffled against his chest. It was a small, silly observation, but it felt strangely important to acknowledge in the midst of everything.

“I know,” he replied, a faint smile in his voice. “Doesn’t matter.”

“You know?” you repeated, sniffling as you pulled back slightly to look up at him, your eyes puffy and red. He nodded, his expression calm and unbothered, as if standing in the wrong bathroom was the least of his worries.

“Yeah,” he said, his gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart ache. “I know, and I don’t care. Not if it means making sure you’re okay.”

You didn’t have a response to that. Instead, you let yourself be held, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline. For the first time in what felt like forever, you allowed yourself to feel just a little bit safe. In his arms, the world seemed a little less cruel, and the weight on your shoulders felt just a little bit lighter.

Niki didn’t try to offer empty reassurances or tell you that everything would be fine. He didn’t try to fix the unfixable or pretend that your pain wasn’t real. He was just there, holding you in the quiet of the empty bathroom, letting you cry until there were no more tears left to shed. And in that simple act of being present, of showing up when you needed someone the most, he gave you a small, fragile hope that maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as alone as you felt.

Even though some time had passed since the incident, the sting of humiliation still lingered, wrapping around your heart like a thorny vine. The memory of Rina’s laughter and the mocking faces of your classmates played on a loop in your mind, refusing to fade. You sat on the edge of your bed in your small dorm room, clutching a book that you weren’t really reading, your eyes glazed over with the weight of thoughts you couldn't shake off.

Across the room, your roommate, Niki, was in the middle of an impromptu self-defense lesson. He stood by his bed, brandishing a pillow in the air as if it were Rina herself, his expression serious and animated. His movements were swift and precise as he demonstrated a move, grabbing an invisible head of hair with one hand and yanking it down with a forceful tug, the pillow tumbling onto the floor with a soft thud.

“You grab her hair like this,” Niki said, his voice firm, his eyes narrowing with an intensity that startled you. “And then you throw her to the ground when she tries that shit again.” He stood tall, his jaw clenched, still gripping the imaginary strands of hair in his fist. The determination in his gaze was almost palpable, as if he could channel all his fury through this makeshift demonstration.

You watched him, chewing on your lower lip as doubt crept into your mind. The whole scene felt surreal—Niki, a senior with finals to worry about, was spending his time teaching you how to fight back, his disdain for Rina and Dowon clear in every movement. It was sweet, in its own strange way, but it also made your stomach twist with anxiety.

“What if she gets hurt?” you asked softly, your voice barely audible as you glanced down at your lap, fiddling with the hem of your uniform skirt. The thought of retaliating, of actually causing harm, made you uneasy. You weren’t like Niki; you didn’t have his unyielding confidence or his unwavering sense of right and wrong. “What if I…?”

Niki shot you a look, his eyebrows raising as if you’d just suggested the most absurd thing in the world. “Hurt?” he repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. “That’s even better.”

You shifted uncomfortably, the conflict clear in your eyes as you looked up at him. “But what if the teachers suspend me? I’m not even a senior like you. I can’t just—what if they find out and—?”

He cut you off, shaking his head with a sharp, dismissive wave of his hand, his expression turning steely. “Then it’s their fault,” he snapped, his voice edged with frustration. “They didn’t do anything when she was bullying you. They ignored it. So what sense does it make if they step in when you’re defending yourself?” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the bedpost as he fixed you with a stare that was equal parts stern and protective.

“But—”

“No buts,” he interrupted again, his voice softening just a touch as he knelt down to pick up the discarded pillow, fluffing it absentmindedly. “Look,” he sighed, sitting on the floor and resting his back against his bed, his shoulders slumping slightly. His earlier bravado had waned, and now he just looked… tired. “I’m not saying you have to hurt her, like, seriously. But you can’t keep letting her walk all over you. You have to stand up for yourself, even if it’s just once.”

You watched him, your heart squeezing at the sight of his sincerity. Niki was rarely this serious about anything other than his dance practice or his favorite video games, but here he was, fully invested in your cause. He was skipping out on his own studying to sit here and coach you, trying to build you up when all you wanted to do was curl up and disappear.

He glanced up, catching your gaze, and his expression softened further, the fierce lines of anger easing into something gentler. “You deserve better, you know,” he murmured, almost as if he were talking to himself. “You shouldn’t have to put up with people like her. Or like him.”

His words hung heavy in the air, sinking into the quiet room. You knew he was right, but the fear of retaliation, of further humiliation, still loomed large in your mind. It was hard to picture yourself standing up to Rina, to imagine a version of you that was strong and unafraid. But Niki’s belief in you, the quiet determination in his voice, made you want to try, if only for him.

You glanced at the pillow still clutched in his hands, then back at him, and a small, uncertain smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “You really think I can do it?”

He nodded without hesitation, a spark of encouragement lighting up his eyes. “I know you can. And even if you mess up, even if things don’t go perfectly…” He trailed off, his lips curving into a playful grin as he tossed the pillow back onto his bed, his mood shifting to something lighter. “I’ve got your back. Always.”

His words warmed you in a way that you couldn’t quite put into words. For a moment, the weight of your fears felt just a little bit lighter, and the shadows of doubt began to retreat. Niki’s confidence, his unwavering support, gave you a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as powerless as you felt.

“Thanks, Niki,” you whispered, your voice soft but sincere. He just shrugged, brushing it off as if it were nothing, but the gentle smile that lingered on his face told you everything you needed to know.

For the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe, with a friend like him by your side, you could find the strength to fight back. Not just against Rina or Dowon, but against all the things that had been holding you down for far too long. And that was a feeling worth holding onto.

Niki tossed the pillow at you with a playful grin, watching as it bounced off your shoulder. “You’ll have to pay for the lesson, though,” he teased, winking at you before spinning on his heel and heading over to his cluttered desk, which was strewn with textbooks, notes, and half-empty snack wrappers. He plopped down into his chair with a dramatic sigh, cracking open a thick workbook filled with math problems he clearly wasn’t thrilled about.

You caught the pillow, rolling your eyes as you tossed it back onto his bed. “Seriously?” you huffed, crossing your arms with an exaggerated pout. “I’m cooking for the fourth time this week, Niki.”

He glanced over his shoulder, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “And you’re still complaining? I think you secretly enjoy it,” he teased, turning his attention back to his workbook. “Besides, you make the best fried rice. No one else’s comes close.”

A small smile crept onto your face despite your mock annoyance. It was hard to stay mad when Niki was so effortlessly charming. He always knew how to lighten the mood, how to pull you out of your funk with just a few words. You shook your head and made your way over to the small corner of your shared room that you had turned into a makeshift kitchen.

It wasn’t much—just a portable stove, a mini-fridge, and a few shelves stacked with ingredients and cooking utensils—but it was cozy, and it had quickly become your little sanctuary.

As you started to cook, the rhythmic sound of chopping vegetables and the sizzle of rice hitting the hot pan filled the room. You added a dash of soy sauce, the savory aroma wafting through the air. In between stirring the rice and adding spices, you glanced over at Niki.

He was hunched over his desk, a pencil in hand as he scribbled furiously in his notebook, his brow furrowed in concentration. Every now and then, he’d let out a groan of frustration, tossing his pencil down and running a hand through his hair.

“You okay over there?” you called out, trying to stifle a giggle as you watched him wrestle with the math problem in front of him.

“No, this is torture,” Niki groaned dramatically, leaning back in his chair with an exasperated sigh. He spun around to face you, pointing accusingly at the workbook. “Why do they even make us learn this stuff? I’m never going to use this in real life.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you gave the rice one last stir. “You’re a senior, Niki. You’ve only got a few more months of this. Then you’ll be free to do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but those few months feel like an eternity,” he muttered, slumping forward onto his desk. He rested his chin in his hand, his eyes drifting over to you as you plated the fried rice. His expression softened, the frustration fading from his features as he watched you move around the kitchen. “But I guess it’s not so bad with you here.”

You couldn’t help but blush at his words, your heart doing a little flip in your chest. “Well, I’m glad I can make it a little less unbearable,” you said, setting the plates down on the small table near the window. The sunlight streamed in, casting a warm glow over the room, making it feel even cozier.

Niki joined you at the table, sliding into the chair across from you. He picked up his fork, poking at the steaming mound of rice with a contented sigh. “Seriously, you’re a lifesaver,” he said between bites, his eyes lighting up as he tasted your cooking. “I don’t know what I’d do without your fried rice.”

You chuckled, shaking your head as you took a bite of your own. “You’d probably survive on instant noodles and chips,” you teased, glancing at the pile of snack wrappers still littering his desk.

“Hey, those are essentials,” Niki shot back, a playful glint in his eyes. “But yeah, I guess I’d starve without you.”

The banter between you flowed easily, as natural as breathing. Niki had a way of making everything feel lighter, less overwhelming. Even on the toughest days, when it felt like the world was against you, he was always there, his presence a constant source of comfort and strength.

And lately, with him by your side at school and in the dorm, things had been looking up. You were paying more attention in class, your grades were improving, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you were on the right path.

As you finished your meal, Niki leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. He looked over at you, his eyes warm and filled with something you couldn’t quite place, something that made your heart flutter in your chest.

As the months went by, you couldn’t ignore the sinking feeling in your chest whenever you thought about Niki’s upcoming graduation. The end of the school year loomed closer, each passing day marking one step closer to a future where he wouldn't be just a room away, wouldn’t be at the same school, wouldn’t share your everyday moments.

The thought gnawed at you, the inevitable distance feeling like a prelude to being forgotten. You did your best to push Niki away, ignoring him when you could, though you still found yourselves sharing meals occasionally. It wasn’t that you wanted to be cruel; you just couldn’t afford to fall for him. Not now, not when you knew how painful the ending could be.

Your past with Dowon had left its scars, deep and raw, and the thought of letting your guard down again terrified you. Dowon had promised you the world, made you feel loved, only to shatter everything with betrayal. The wounds he left were still fresh, and the fear of repeating that heartbreak was paralyzing.

Niki noticed the distance, the way your conversations became shorter and how you avoided his gaze. He tried to reach out, but the pressure of his exams kept him distracted, and he chalked it up to stress, figuring things would smooth over eventually. Still, a part of him missed the easy connection you shared, the way you used to laugh and talk without any barriers between you.

One day, as you wandered the school hallways lost in your thoughts, the sudden impact of being shoved into the cold metal lockers snapped you back to reality. A loud clang echoed through the corridor, drawing the attention of nearby students, who turned to watch with wide eyes but made no move to intervene.

Your heart raced as you tried to pull away, struggling against the firm grip that pinned you. It was Dowon, his face twisted with a mix of anger and smug satisfaction as he held you against the lockers, his grip rough and unrelenting.

“Stop! Let me go!” you yelled, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance. You thrashed against his hold, your body instinctively trying to break free, but he was stronger, and the pressure of his weight kept you trapped.

Dowon sneered, his eyes dark with malice as he leaned in closer. “You think you can just walk away? You’re nothing without me,” he taunted, his voice dripping with contempt. He moved to press his lips against yours, not out of any genuine affection but as a cruel reminder of the control he used to wield over you, the humiliation stinging more than any physical pain.

Rina stood nearby, watching the scene unfold with a twisted smile of satisfaction. She relished in your distress, pleased by the spectacle of your helplessness, her eyes glinting with malice as she watched you squirm.

Just as you felt the sickening proximity of Dowon’s breath, a commotion in the crowd caught your attention. Niki, who had been walking by, stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him.

His eyes widened in shock, his mind reeling as he took in the scene: Dowon pinning you to the lockers, the sneering expression on his face, and the group of students watching like it was some kind of twisted show. The disbelief quickly gave way to anger, a fiery protectiveness flaring up inside him as he pushed his way through the crowd.

“Niki!” You spotted him just as he started to move, his steps purposeful, but before he could reach you, a sharp, pained scream tore through the air. Everyone, including Niki, froze for a moment, stunned and confused, eyes darting around to find the source of the noise. It took Niki a second to realize it was Dowon who had screamed, his face contorted in agony as he doubled over, clutching himself.

Niki’s gaze dropped to see you standing there, your breath ragged and face flushed with adrenaline. You had kicked Dowon squarely in the groin, your expression fierce and unapologetic, the pent-up anger and frustration finally boiling over. Dowon staggered back, his eyes wide with a mixture of pain and shock, clearly not expecting you to fight back so fiercely.

“You bitch!” Dowon spat, his voice laced with both rage and humiliation. He tried to straighten up, but the pain made him buckle again.

Rina, seeing Dowon’s vulnerability, started to rush forward, her face a mask of fury. She was ready to defend him, to turn the situation against you once more, but before she could reach you, Niki stepped in. With swift precision, he landed a solid punch on Dowon’s jaw, sending him stumbling back into the lockers. The sound of the impact echoed through the hallway, a collective gasp rippling through the onlookers.

Niki stood between you and Dowon, his posture tense, fists clenched, and eyes blazing with fury. He turned slightly, just enough to glance back at you, his expression softening when he saw the tear tracks on your cheeks, the lingering fear in your eyes. He reached out, gently cupping your face with one hand, his thumb brushing away a stray tear.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low but filled with concern, his gaze searching yours for any sign of hurt.

You nodded, still catching your breath, your heart pounding in your chest. The warmth of his touch and the protective stance he took in front of you made your insides twist with conflicting emotions. You wanted to sink into his comfort, to let yourself be vulnerable, but the walls you had built around your heart were still there, still reminding you of the risks.

Dowon, still reeling from both your kick and Niki’s punch, glared at Niki with venom in his eyes. “You think you can just—”

“Shut up,” Niki snapped, his voice dangerously calm. He didn’t bother looking at Dowon, his focus entirely on you. “If you ever touch her again, you’ll regret it.”

The weight of Niki’s words hung heavily in the air, a clear warning that left no room for argument. Dowon, clutching his bruised jaw and still hunched over in pain, knew better than to push his luck. He staggered back, shooting you one last spiteful look before limping away, Rina following closely behind, her smug confidence deflated.

The hallway slowly returned to its usual buzz as the crowd dispersed, students whispering and casting glances your way. Niki remained close, his protective stance unwavering as he watched Dowon disappear around the corner. Finally, he turned to face you fully, his hands dropping to his sides, his expression softening as he took in the sight of you.

“Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” Niki’s voice was gentle, but there was an edge of hurt beneath his words. “I could’ve done something sooner.”

You looked down, biting your lip as you tried to hold back the fresh wave of tears. “I didn’t want to bother you. You’ve got your own stuff to deal with… your exams, graduation…”

Niki reached out, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes made your breath hitch, his proximity making your heart race all over again. “You’re not a bother,” he said firmly, his voice steady. “Not now, not ever.”

There was a beat of silence, the kind that felt heavy with unspoken words and unacknowledged feelings. The hallway, once filled with chaos and noise, now felt like it belonged to just the two of you. Niki’s hand lingered on your cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to make your resolve waver, the walls around your heart starting to crumble.

“You matter to me,” Niki continued, his voice softening. “More than you know.”

The confession hung in the air, fragile and vulnerable, and you couldn’t help but let a tear slip down your cheek. Niki’s gaze softened even more as he wiped it away, his touch warm and reassuring. For the first time in a long while, you felt seen, truly seen, and the fear of falling, of opening yourself up to the possibility of hurt, started to feel a little less daunting with Niki standing there, unwavering and true.

Without thinking, you leaned in, your forehead resting against his, the closeness between you both charged with unspoken emotions. Niki didn’t pull away; instead, he stayed still, his breath mingling with yours in the narrow space between you. In that moment, surrounded by the echoes of what had just happened, you let yourself believe—if only for a second—that maybe, just maybe, this ending wouldn’t be like the last.

The dorm room door clicked shut behind you, and the quiet hum of the fluorescent lights filled the space. Niki dropped his bag by the door, glancing back at you with a soft smile as you lingered near the entrance, your eyes distant and lost in thought. He could see the way your shoulders were still tense, the echoes of the hallway confrontation still weighing on you.

“You were good today,” Niki murmured, stepping closer. His voice was gentle, almost reverent, as if he were afraid any louder would break the fragile calm between you. “Fighting them off like that. You were… amazing.” There was a glimmer of admiration in his eyes, mixed with something deeper, something that made your heart clench.

You nodded absently, but your mind was elsewhere. There was only a month left until Niki’s graduation, and the looming prospect of his departure cast a long shadow over every shared moment. The thought of him leaving gnawed at you, and despite how hard you tried to push it away, the fear was relentless, gnawing at the edges of your resolve.

Niki’s brows furrowed as he watched you, his smile fading when he noticed the frown etched on your face. He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm in a light, reassuring touch. “Hey,” he said softly, his voice tinged with concern. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, biting your lower lip as you fought back the tears that threatened to spill. The question that had been clawing at your heart finally escaped in a soft, trembling whisper. “Will you… forget me once you graduate?”

The words hung between you, heavy and vulnerable, and Niki’s expression softened. He didn’t hesitate. In one fluid motion, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The warmth of his embrace was immediate, grounding you in a way that nothing else could. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your cheek, and it was as if he were trying to convey everything he couldn’t say in words through the closeness alone.

“Stupid girl,” Niki muttered into your hair, his voice filled with a tender exasperation. He held you tighter, his fingers threading through your hair, his touch both gentle and firm. “I’ve loved you for all those years while you were dating Dowon, and now that I finally have you out of that hell, why would I forget you?”

His words were so matter-of-fact, spoken as if they were the most natural thing in the world, as if the idea of ever letting you go was something that had never even crossed his mind. You pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes searching his for any hint of doubt, but all you found was sincerity, raw and unguarded. It made your heart stutter in your chest, the truth of his confession sinking in.

“I—” you began, your voice faltering as uncertainty crept in. You couldn’t understand why someone like Niki would feel that way about you, someone who had always been so confident, so capable. “Why would you like me?”

Niki’s gaze softened, his thumb brushing lightly against your cheek, wiping away a tear that had slipped free. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw as he considered your question. “Why not?” he replied simply, his tone gentle but firm, as if he were countering an argument he’d heard a thousand times before.

You shook your head, frustration bubbling up as you tried to articulate the insecurities that had been festering inside you. “Because I’m short, I cry too much, I’m weak… I can’t do anything without help, I don’t get good grades—” The words tumbled out in a rush, each one carrying a weight of self-doubt that had built up over the years. But before you could finish, Niki pulled you in tighter, cutting you off with the sudden intensity of his embrace.

“Stupid,” he whispered against your ear, his voice low and filled with a quiet fierceness that sent shivers down your spine. “You’re really stupid if you think any of that matters to me.”

You felt his hands slide up to cup your face, tilting it so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. The intensity in his eyes made your breath hitch, and you could see the conviction there, the unyielding certainty that left no room for doubt.

“You’re not weak,” he continued, his voice steady and unwavering. “You’re strong. Stronger than you know. You kicked Dowon today. You stood up for yourself. You’re not afraid to show your emotions, and that’s not a weakness—it’s brave.”

His thumbs brushed over your cheekbones, wiping away the remnants of your tears, his touch tender and careful. “You make people feel like they matter, you care more than anyone I’ve ever met, and you try so damn hard even when things get tough. That’s what I see when I look at you. Not grades, not height, none of that. Just you.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. It was overwhelming, this outpouring of affection and reassurance, and you felt your defenses crumbling, the walls you’d built to protect yourself from heartache starting to give way. Niki’s hands remained on your face, steady and grounding, his touch a reminder that he was there, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Why are you so sure about me?” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you leaned into his touch, the warmth of his palms a comforting anchor.

“Because I’ve watched you,” Niki said softly, his breath mingling with yours in the narrow space between you. “I’ve seen you at your best and your worst, and I’ve never once doubted that you’re worth it. Worth everything.”

The vulnerability in his voice matched your own, and for the first time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, he was right. You reached up, your fingers brushing against his wrist, your touch light and tentative. “I don’t want to be forgotten,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly under the weight of your fears. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Niki’s grip tightened, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath warm and reassuring. “You won’t lose me,” he promised, the conviction in his voice strong and unwavering. “No matter where I go or what happens after graduation, you’re stuck with me. Got it?”

A small, shaky laugh escaped you, the tension in your chest loosening just a bit as you nodded. “Got it,” you whispered, a smile finally breaking through the tears.

Niki’s lips brushed your forehead, a soft, lingering kiss that felt like a seal of his promise, a quiet assurance that you were not alone in this. The world outside the dorm room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment, the quiet hum of the lights and the soft rhythm of your breathing the only sounds filling the space.

You held onto each other, the uncertainties of the future still lingering, but with the warmth of his embrace, the fears didn’t seem as daunting, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to hope.

The auditorium was buzzing with excitement and the hum of proud conversations. Graduates dressed in their caps and gowns were surrounded by family and friends, the air filled with laughter, cheers, and the occasional tearful embrace. Niki stood among them, his smile wide as his parents hugged him tightly, and his friends clapped him on the back in congratulations. But even as he thanked them, his eyes were constantly scanning the crowd, searching for the one face he wanted to see most.

As the ceremony came to an end, the flood of people pouring out into the bright sunshine did little to lift the knot of unease in his chest. He pulled out his phone, checking his messages for the third time, but there was still nothing from you. The smile on his face started to falter, replaced by a flicker of disappointment that he couldn't quite hide.

Niki sighed, running a hand through his hair as he made his way back to the dorms. Even though he’d moved out a few days ago, the empty room called to him, and his feet carried him there on autopilot, his mind still caught up in the absence of your presence.

He opened the door to find the room dark, only the faint glow of the late afternoon sun creeping through the gaps in the curtains. You were there, curled up on your bed, a tangle of sheets wrapped around you as if they were the only thing keeping you anchored. The sight of you asleep, so peaceful and yet so impossibly out of reach, sent a pang through Niki’s chest. He felt both relief and frustration bubble up, clashing in a confusing storm of emotions.

Without a word, Niki dropped his cap and gown on the floor and moved toward you, his footsteps quiet but urgent. He didn’t stop until he was right beside your bed, looking down at you with a mixture of fond exasperation and aching affection. Your eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused, and before you could react, Niki was leaning over, his hands bracing on either side of your head as he pinned you gently against the mattress.

“You seriously gave me a heart attack,” he muttered, his voice a low, playful growl that was laced with genuine concern. He flopped down next to you, not caring about the narrow space, and pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you with a desperate kind of need. The familiar scent of his cologne mixed with the faint scent of laundry detergent, comforting and so very Niki. He buried his face in your hair, letting out a deep breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

You shifted slightly, your body relaxing into his embrace even as you kept your eyes closed, your head resting on his shoulder. “I didn’t want to get up,” you mumbled, your voice soft and drowsy, still clinging to the remnants of sleep. There was a vulnerability in your words, a quiet confession that hung in the space between you.

Niki’s brows knitted together, his hold on you tightening just a fraction as he tilted his head to look at you. “Why?” he asked gently, his voice barely above a whisper. He could feel the steady beat of your heart against his side, and it grounded him in a way that nothing else could.

“The dream was pleasant,” you admitted, your eyes still half-closed, the corners of your lips curling up in a small, wistful smile. The way you said it, so soft and fragile, made Niki’s heart twist. He could tell that you were caught between the comfort of the dream and the reality that was now pressing in around you, and for a moment, he felt helpless.

Niki’s gaze softened as he watched you, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your arm. He understood what you weren’t saying, the fear of what came next, the uncertainty of the future now that graduation had finally come and gone. He didn’t push you to explain, didn’t ask for more than you were willing to give. Instead, he moved closer, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss that lingered, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’m right here,” he murmured, his voice low and comforting. “You don’t have to wake up if you don’t want to.”

You let out a soft, contented sigh, your body instinctively curling closer to his, and for a moment, it felt like time had slowed. The world outside the dorm room ceased to exist, leaving just the two of you in this small, intimate bubble. Niki’s hands roamed gently, his fingers trailing up your back, over your shoulders, and down your sides, as if he were trying to memorize every inch of you, to commit this moment to memory.

A shiver ran down your spine as his touch grew bolder, his lips ghosting over your temple, then lower, tracing the curve of your cheek. Your breath hitched, your eyes finally opening fully to meet his, and the look in Niki’s eyes was intense, filled with an emotion that made your heart race. He didn’t need to say anything more; the way his gaze held yours, unwavering and full of quiet longing, spoke volumes.

Niki’s mouth found yours in a slow, deliberate kiss, his lips moving against yours with a gentle urgency that made your head spin. It was as if he were pouring all of his unspoken words, his fears and hopes, into that kiss, and you felt yourself melting into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The kiss deepened, becoming more heated, more desperate, as if both of you were trying to grasp onto something solid in the midst of the uncertainty.

You broke away first, your breaths coming in short, shallow bursts as you stared at him, your lips still tingling from the intensity of the kiss. Niki’s forehead pressed against yours, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt or hesitation. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing lightly over your cheeks, wiping away the lingering traces of tears.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly, his voice filled with a quiet conviction that left no room for doubt. “Not now, not ever. Graduation doesn’t change that.”

You swallowed hard, your heart swelling with a mixture of relief and something deeper, something that you were finally beginning to understand. Niki’s unwavering presence, the way he held you without question, without hesitation, was more than you ever thought you deserved. And as you lay there, tangled in each other’s arms, the weight of the future didn’t seem so daunting anymore.

“Promise?” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you leaned into his touch.

“Promise,” Niki replied, sealing it with another soft, lingering kiss that tasted of reassurance and the beginnings of something new, something that would not fade with the passing of time.

And in that moment, as the last rays of the afternoon sun filtered through the curtains, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, this was your new beginning.

i just want to say thanks to those who supported and left sweet messages on my last fic, it meant a lot <3

© enreveriee

[fairy-angel222]

𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐬 𐙚⋆.˚

Him getting all teary as you continue to edge him, his cock painfully hard and throbbing as you stroked it slow.

“P-please mommy— ahh, need to cum so bad.” His voice cracks with a whimper, trying to thrust his hips into your warm fist for just a little more contact to his overly sensitive tip.

His moans are so loud and cute, his hands tied snuggly behind his back as he ruts desperately up into your fist. His abs tensed, mouth hung open in shaky cries as his orgasm builded up.

“Nngh— ‘m cumming, ‘m— no, no, no, w-why?” He let out a choked sob. Pleading eyes going dark when you only smirked down it him, running your nail up his shaky stomach.

“It’s okay baby.” You coo, “you can take it, you’re such a good boy f’me.”

Choso frowned, his eyes glossy as he glared at your form on top of him. Effortlessly breaking his restraints into two before grabbing you roughly by your neck with the shake of his head, “ ‘m done, ‘s your turn now.”

You let out a loud whimper when Choso shoved you into the bed, spreading your legs impatiently before lining himself up with your dripping hole. “You get this wet from torturing me.” He scoffed.

“Choso baby, w-wait.” Choso only ignored you, thrusting into you roughly before he was hammering into you in the chase of his lost orgasm. Loud squelching sounds filling the room as he used your pussy to stroke his cock however he liked.

“F-fuck,” he cried, his body already shaking as he felt his orgasm coming back to him. His hard chest pressed against your own as he fucked himself stupid with no rhythm. “O-ooh- nghh— feels so good m-mommy,” he breathed in relief, his cock slamming mercilessly into your tight warmth.

“Yeah? Feels so good doesn’t it, fucking yourself with my pussy?” You cooed, small moans falling past your lips as you stroked his hair.

Choso nodded with a broken mewl, his hips rutting into you with nothing but need as his thrusts got sloppy, slobbering kisses down your smooth neck. His eyes met yours through wet eyelashes. “Uh huh- ‘m gonna cum— nngh, please mommy can i cum?”

You only smirked. Good boy.

“Mhm, go ahead baby- cum for me.” Choso let out a string of loud whimpers, a cry of your name echoing through the room as his body trembled.

“O-oh fu-uuck— i love you s’ much mommy.” His voice went up a pitch, his hold on you tightening as his body stilled, twitching cock buried deep inside you to pump you fuck. “So warm— nghh, so tight. Can stay in you for h-hours. Fill you with my babies over ‘n over again.” He moaned when you clenched down on him, ropes after ropes of his sticky cum painting your walls white.

“Fuck, mommy’s gonna cum too baby. Keep fucking me just like that okay?” You moaned desperately.

Choso only pecked your lips before rubbing at your clit while fucking meanly into you. Your head falling back into your pillow with a whiny cry as your body trembled, feeling your stomach tighten as you neared your high.

Choso grinned, “Are you close mommy?”

You nodded with a mewl, your vision blurry and your lips parted in soft whimpers when you felt Choso’s cock repeatedly hitting your sweet spot. The stretch of your pussy for his thick girth clouding your mind as you moaned out for him.

“C’mon, use your words.” His voice deepened, hand reaching up to wrap around your throat with the tilt of his head. “Well?”

You nodded with a hiccup, “Mhm, ‘m so close. Gonna cum f’ you baby.” You cried out shakily, your toes curling with the arch of your back as your orgasm began to wash over you.

“Aww, well that’s too bad.” Choso faux pouted, halting his movements and smiling sweetly when you whined desperately. Lifting your hips towards him for any form of contact. “Baby p-please.”

He leaned down to kiss your cheeks as your own eyes grew watery, “told you it was your turn.”

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Alley Chat (Dp x dc)

Danny leaned on the dirty alleyway walls, his head down, as he tried to stave off tears. Taking one more shaky breath, he did his best to let it out slowly.

“You’re fine,” he gasped. 

Then, one more gulp, “You’re safe.”

And then, “Breathe.”

“C’mon just-“ he heaved in a breath, “breathe goddammit.” 

Then he tilted his head backwards as his eyes slid shut. He inhaled through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, his heart-rate finally slowing down.

He brushed away the wet of his cheeks with the rag he’d shoved in his barista apron earlier. Figuring it was already ruined as it was he blowed his nose in it as well. Now if he could just splash his face with cold water, he’d be almost as new.

He reached for the stick of gum he knew he’d left in the bigger pocket only to freeze as he felt something smoother under his fingers. The card from earlier.

“This is for you,” his father had said, looking more unsure of himself than Danny had ever seen him. “Danny-o…”

“We’re sorry, Danny,” his mother had taken over, and there had been tears in her eyes. “We’re so sorry, we didn’t know-“

“You can’t be here,” Danny had said calmly enough, though his hand had been shaking.

“Danny-“ his mom had started, as she had reached towards him and Danny just couldn’t do this.

He had felt his pulse in his ear, his chest constricting and he hadn’t been able to think past the need to get out, out, out.

There’d been bright light, and then he had been away from the noise, and he had ran until he couldn’t breathe. 

And here he was getting pushed to the precipice by a fucking card.

“No,” he told himself but his eyes were already watering. “No,” he choked out, fruitlessly.

“Goddamit,” he hiccuped as tears began to fall. And then it was as if the dam had broken. Every single tear he’d managed to repress were now coming back twofold. His whole body was wrecked by big heaving sobs and he had a moment to be glad he’d found himself a secluded place to have his fit in peace.

“Oh, buddy,” he heard from behind just as the thought registered.

He turned around to find a guy in a skintight red suit looking at him.

“Are you ok?” The guy said before rallying. “That’s a dumb question, isn't it.”

The halfa just looked at the man.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Danny shook his head. He was actively trying not to think about it.

“Is it ok if I stay here ?”

Danny was too drained to care about a stranger witnessing this, so he raised his shoulders.

“I can talk if you don’t want to, I’ve been told I’m quite the motormouth.”

The man let a bit of silence pass before apparently he decided that was an agreement and he started blathering on about- rainbows was it?”

“-sure if compared against the big fishes, Rainbow Raider is far from the worst but I just can’t get over how petty his reason to turn to crime is. I’m not saying being colour blind would make being an artist easy but it doesn’t make impossible. Beethoven was deaf and look at him now! Ok that was poorly phrased, but you get what I meant-“

And on he went, talking about anything that was going through his head it seemed.

As it went on, Danny realized his hands had stopped shaking and there was a tugging at his lips that was ever so slight, but near miraculous so soon after his cry session.

“-where does the iron even come from? Like do spinach plants just make it? What does a spinach plant look like for that matter? I’m picturing like a salad plant but where do the stalks come from then,” the man hummed before there was a sound like a TV’s white noise and the man straightened. After a moment, he turned towards Danny and gave him a smile.

“I’m gonna have to run,” he said. “I’m not often in the neighborhood, so we might not meet again, so I wish you best of luck, bud.”

Another brilliant smile and he turned away.

Danny jumped forward in time to stop the man’s immediate departure. Said man turned to give Danny a quizzical look.

“Thank you,” said Danny painfully sincere.

The man’s face softened in a smile for a moment and then he was gone.