#maybe someday the ache will go away.

[orcelito]

Ykno it's so fucked up that u can always make new friends but u can never replace lost family. Like what's up with that? I can never have another dad. And it kinda does suck.

[moonstruckme]

Hi!! Could you please write something for Spencer where r is used to men being like really loud and rough and all that (maybe bc of her father or smth) and just her getting used to how gentle Spencer is and almost thinking it’s too good to be true?

Thank you for requesting angel <3

Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 905 words

It happens when you’re still half asleep. You fumble for your phone on Spencer’s nightstand, your alarm chiming, and knock a picture frame off instead. You’re fully awake by the time you hear the sound of glass shattering against the floor. 

You mumble a curse. Spencer hums questioningly into his pillow. 

You get down from the bed, managing to step over the glass, but you’re not thinking clearly enough. When you sink onto your knees, little shards prick the skin. You pick the frame up carefully. It’s a picture of Spencer and his mom. An old one, of her chasing a three or four-year-old Spencer around someone’s yard. They’re both laughing, her arms outstretched towards him and his face turning to look over his shoulder. It’s obviously a sentimental photo. 

Your cursing intensifies, though you keep it internal now. You feel awful. 

Spencer’s head appears over the edge of the bed as you’re scraping the glass into a pile. His eyes are half-open, expression still weighted with drowsiness. 

“What happened?” he asks. 

There’s no accusation in his tone, but you feel suddenly teary. You haven’t fought with Spencer yet, and you weren’t expecting to be yelled at first thing this morning. You suppose you’ve earned it, though. 

“Spence, I’m so sorry.” 

“What are you doing?” 

“I—I knocked over your picture. The frame broke. I feel awful, I’ll get you a new one o—or I can replace the glass if the frame is important to you.” 

“What?” Spencer blinks, brows furrowed as though he’s having trouble grasping this. “No, it’s—stop. Don’t do that.” 

You still, looking up at him hesitantly with your hands cupped around the glass pile. “What do you want me to do?” 

“You can’t clean glass up with your hands.” He shuffles his way out from under the covers, taking a big step over the class to stand behind you. His hands wrap around your elbows. “Get away from there.” 

His tone conveys some upset, but not nearly as much as you were prepared for. And his grip on your arms is gentle. You can’t make sense of it. 

You let him guide you into the bathroom, sitting up on the counter when he prompts you. Spencer takes your hands in his, looking them over and brushing his fingers lightly across your palms before determining there’s no glass in them. His eyes skim you over. When they land on your knees, his expression pinches. 

“Why did you do this?” You expect him to grasp your knee roughly, but his fingers wrap around it with care, thumb rubbing over the soft underside as though to soothe you. 

“I wasn’t thinking,” you say softly. “I feel so bad about the picture with your mom, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Spencer sounds surprised. His eyes flit up to yours, soft brown, curious. “I can get a new frame. You didn’t need to hurt yourself.” 

“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose.” Your voice drops to a murmur as Spencer bends down, opening a drawer to take out first aid supplies. 

He pulls each tiny piece of glass from your knees with heart-aching care. One hand stays on the back of whichever knee he’s working on, to steady him and to comfort you, and it’s a slow, attentive, tender process. Gradually, a realization seeps into you. 

Spencer isn’t going to blow up at you. Maybe someday, but not about this, not over just anything. You’re not sure how you could have been so expectant of someone who’s been nothing but kind and gentle with you turning harsh and forceful at the first upset. 

You don’t even wince as Spencer cleans up your knees. He’s careful to give you no reason to, every touch considerate and sweet. He straightens after smoothing bandages over the cuts, still holding your lower thighs in his hands. 

“That wasn’t a very nice way to wake up,” he says. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you say, but you hold your arms out for a hug anyway. 

Spencer’s happy to oblige you, his hips fitting between your legs and palms sliding across your back. He smells like sleep. You hook your chin over his shoulder, contentment filling your belly like warm honey. 

“You seemed upset,” he murmurs, a question if you choose to answer it. 

“I was nervous,” you admit. “I thought you’d be mad.” 

“For knocking the frame over?”

“Mhm. I still feel really bad.” 

Spencer draws a line between your shoulders. “Don’t feel bad. You didn’t do it on purpose.” 

You hum. “You’re a lot less loud than most guys, do you know that?” 

He pauses. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No.” You pull away from him, cradling his face in your hand. “I’m just not used to it, is all. I keep expecting you to yell at me, but that doesn’t seem like it’s really your thing.” 

“I guess I don’t think of it as my thing,” Spencer agrees, mouth curving as he repeats your words. “My mom says I was always a quiet kid. I guess I just never thought yelling would get me anywhere.” 

“Don’t start.” You grin, and his cheek dimples under your palm. “I like you like this.” 

“Okay, I’ll try not to.” He tilts his face into your touch. His hands drop back to your knees, skimming down the unharmed sides next to the bandages. “And you shouldn’t get angry at yourself on my behalf anymore, either.”

[your-internet-bf]

I have a bad habit of looking at other people's phones in public. Someday, I think I'll look at a cute girl's screen and see the sorta shit I like - bondage, rape, deep, strong fucking. You'd scroll past as quick as you can, of course, since it's embarrassing to be caught looking at that in public... But I'd know.

It's not hard to follow people, especially in a city. Nobody expects to be followed; you'd never even notice. Maybe you catch a glimpse of me through the corner of your eye, but it's just a coincidence that I've been behind you the past eight blocks, right? Right?

I've been camping outside your place, watching through the window. It wasn't hard, and you haven't noticed anything more than a shadow. But it's dark out now, and very late, and I climb up to your window to get a better view.

I see you reclined in your bed, rubbing and pounding as hard as you can, your brow furrowed and your lips open in a silent moan as you try to hide your, what, fourth orgasm of the night? I watch, every inch of my cock throbbing, aching, waiting for my turn.

You turn off your phone, close your eyes, and you - raw, red, exhausted you - try to sleep. I wait a few minutes just to be sure, feeling myself over my clothes, before trying your window. It's a rush when I find it unlocked - you are EXACTLY the kind of girl I thought you were. Silently, the window slides open, and I follow the cool night air into your bedroom.

You're prettier up close. I've been studying you for hours now, of course, but I hadn't noticed just how soft your skin was, or how smooth your curves... I pull down your covers, revealing that you didn't bother to put anything on after you came. Your slick, abused cunt is so inviting; every cell in my body is screaming at me to tear you open with my cock, to ruin you, to pound your cervix up into your tummy, but there's something I need to do first...

I take a quick moment to undress, quietly, the soft clink of my belt buckle being the only sound other than our breathing, already starting to mix in the darkness. Then all at once I pounce, pushing you onto your front, gripping your waist from behind, and ramming my cock dry into your ass.

It hurts. I want it to hurt.

You're scared. I want you to be scared.

Maybe you've been with a guy before, maybe you haven't, maybe you have a boyfriend, or girlfriend, or spouse right now; it doesn't matter to me. With my size, every hole feels tight, especially a victim.

I feel you writhe beneath me, trying to get away, but I won't let you. I take one of my hands off your waist and, balling up your hair in one fist, wrench your head back.

"You," I whisper, my breath hot on your cheek, "aren't going anywhere, pretty girl."

I push your face down into your bed and keep going, pounding, breaking, raping your ass. You feel my breath on you, my sweat on you, the smell of me overwhelming even as I'm intoxicated by yours. I yank your head back up and take a deep breath in at the back of your neck, moaning as I breathe out. As I pause, you raise your hips into me, whimpering, and I know you need me to keep going.

Because you need it, don't you? You need a big, strong man, smelling like sweat and power, to rape you, don't you? To completely make you mine, to turn you into a sobbing, soaking mess, to mold you around my filthy, throbbing cock. Say it now, say that you need it, that you're a needy slut, say it out loud...

So I continue. Taking the other hand back to your waist, I redouble my work, straining inside you. I reach down to slap your soaking pussy and rub your wetness on me, and keep going. In and out, in and out, in and out, my girth spreading your ass so wide, so painfully, you can barely think. But I know you need it, and I'm so close now.

My breath comes faster, catching in my throat, and you feel a hard thrust, then another, another, another, and finally, I ram into you so hard we both collapse into your bed... And you feel the thick, white cum shoot into you. Warm, heavy, sticky, it fills your insides as my cock pulses thick and strong inside you, my breath warm on your neck as I force you to cockwarm me.

I kiss your soft, pretty skin as you sob into your pillow. I grind into you as I do, and my cum leaks out, a slow stream rolling down from your ruined ass towards that gaping, aching cunt. After a minute, I pull out, and push you onto your back. You get a brief glimpse at my face through the tears - long, long eyelashes framing deep gray eyes - before I steal a kiss. Your tears make it salty, and you feel me smile, pressed up against your lips.

"You needed it, didn't you?" I ask, still grinning.

Weakly, you nod. "Mhmm..." You draw in another shaky breath.

"Good, good girl." I lean back and reach for my cock - I'm still hard. I still need you.

You know what you are now. You'd suspected it before, but now you know what you are, what you need, and so do I. You spread your legs for me, this time willingly, begging me to come make you mine...

[mybluesstuff]

[greatunironic]

eddie wakes up in a strange room. this was not particularly unusual for him, historically: he’d spent most of his twenties waking up in new and interesting places (including a handful of jail cells). but after eddie, the label, and the los angeles superior court system decided it would be best if he stopped drinking and doing blow, it stopped being such a regular occurrence.

so it’s almost alarming to him, now, to be blinking up at an unfamiliar cement ceiling with the raging bitch of all headaches and generally feeling like he got hit by a truck, got whiplash in a crash with the way his neck aches. he’d think he was hungover like all those times before except for how sharp the pain is, bright.

he worries, briefly, he’s relapsed, or someone’s slipped him something. but he remembers what him and the boys had been up to, before this, and he thinks it’d’ve been a strange night indeed if someone roofied a c-list (b-list if he’s feeling charitable) musician at a fucking frozen four game.

because yeah, eddie remembers: they’d been third row, watching the wisconsin ladies clean up and cheering for jeff’s kid sister like she was about to get olympic gold. (she probably would, someday. her and that mayfield girl who played defense were looking down the barrel at a 2026 run apparently.

eddie’s been to a handful of games over the years, when touring and recording allows them to go. he’s resolutely never been a sports guy but he’ll admit, when pressed, that live hockey is pretty dope. to say nothing, of course, of how jeff would probably murder them all in their sleep if they didn’t rep the red and white for lottie.

(and also — and this is between eddie and his god alright — but lottie’s coach? standing back there in his suit, hair styled and dialed, snapping his gum, yelling at the refs? kind of doing it for him, okay. worth the price of admission, even if the tickets weren’t free.)

when he thinks harder — which hurts too — the last thing he clearly remembers was someone from the beavers scoring, bringing their lead to 5-1, and a slapshot from the other team getting out over the boards and nearly taking out some lady’s popcorn. someone behind them in the seats said, “jesus they’re getting desperate, eh?”

then shit goes dark on him, not even a fade to black, but a full on smash cut, roll credits black, and the post-credits scene is where ever the fuck eddie is at the moment. it smells like human and cold and icy hot, so obviously, he thinks, he died and went to hell like all the church ladies said he would back in hawkins, or probably just a locker room. what the fuck?

he blinks at the ceiling, at an interesting water stain on the cement texturing. he’s in the middle of wondering where the rest of his band has gone if he’s here alone, fucking abandoners, when a sweaty redhead with the bitchiest expression he’s maybe ever seen enters his field of vision.

“you’re alive,” she says.

eddie blinks again. “why do you sound so disappointed?”

“yo coach!” she shouts, already on the move away from him. “he’s alive!”

he tries to sit up, but that makes the pain in his head worse, and also draws attention to the fact that his back also hurts. he squeezes his eyes shut and makes a truly embarrassing noise of pain — if pressed, he’d call it a whimper — and a pair of big hands land on his shoulders.

“out, out ladies i got this! hey!, hey, man, don’t move just yet,” says big hands.

“yeah, no problem, i don’t want to anymore,” eddie says. he stirs up the will to open his eyes again and very nearly slams them back shut. because of course the person staring down at him is fucking coach hottie snackycakes himself. he’s even better looking in person, too, big droopy eyes, lips as pink as his bubblegum, and shiny, jesus christ. he’s still got eddie by the shoulders, hands warm through the thin cotton of his flannel and tee — because eddie’s always been more fashion than sense, wayne always said, and it’s even worse now that the paps are on him—

“oh, fuck this is gonna be all over tiktok later, isn’t it?” he moans.

“maybe not.”

“don’t lie.”

“listen, eddie — it is eddie, right?” asks coach hottie. “i’m steve. coach harrington. faughnsie — lottie, i mean — she said you’re eddie. her brother’s guitarist? what do you remember?”

“more like he’s my singer,” he says, “but sure. and not much.”

“well, you’re gonna be okay,” says coach hottie — steve. “it really wasn’t that bad, and it was probably too fast for anyone to get it, unless they already had a camera on you. you took a puck to the head when one popped up. i’d apologize but it wasn’t one of my girls who did it, so. anyway — you weren’t out for long, which robbie says is good — she’ll get a look at you in a second — but you got your bell rung pretty good. and you’re gonna have quite the shiner, trust me.”

“speaking from experience?”

“oh, yeah. closer and faster too.” he gently raps his head with his knuckles. “too many concussions too early ended my nhl days, in fact.”

“oh. oh shit, sorry, i—“

“don’t worry about it, man, it happens,” he says. “and if it hadn’t, i wouldn’t be here.”

“at the frozen four.”

“yeah, sure, that too.”

“what?”

“what?” steve waves him off. “anyway, i’m just glad to see you up, ish, and talking. looked pretty scary, from the bench.”

“i really don’t remember,” says eddie. “but i’m sure i’ll see it on tiktok later, like i said — at least, my unconscious, bleeding form.”

“i got up there pretty fast, so i doubt it,” says steve.

eddie blinks, twice. “you—?”

“you were behind my bench, and you. well,” he says with a shrug, but he’s clearly a little embarrassed, finally putting those hands away — weapons of eddie destruction, he thinks — and shoving them into his pockets of his tight slacks. “i should be getting back out there.”

“do you? you’re murdering them pretty good, unless i black out and missed them getting four more goals,” eddie says.

the corners of steve’s eyes crinkle when he smiles. eddie thinks he might just pass out again. “no, we’re still gonna cinch it, i think. looks bad, though — first time coach missing the final period so’s he can hit on the cute musician who got his clock cleaned by the biscuit.”

“oh,” he says. swallows. “uh.”

steve’s crinkly, smiley eyes go wide. “unless—“

“no less!” eddie shouts and then immediately winces. at a better, less damaging to his more than slightly concussed noggin, volume, he says, “more, actually. because pretty sure i shouldn’t be left unsupervised, and i’ve clearly been abandoned by the band, so—“

“so,” says steve.

“coach, two minutes!” someone calls.

“so, i was hoping maybe i could keep hitting on the hot hockey coach back at his?”

“i’m at the ramada inn,” he says, “and i got tape to watch for the finals.”

“i live for room service,” eddie tells him seriously. “and i’m suddenly very into wisconsin sports teams.”

“coach! go time!”

“yeah?” he asks.

“yeah.”

“COACH!”

he jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “i gotta — but, uh, later?”

“pick me up in twenty?”

“probably more like half an hour, with stoppage,” he says.

someone bangs on the door. “COACH!! let’s boogie!!”

with one last look, wide eyed and smiling, steve leaves. eddie watches him go. he’d heard hockey players were caked up but lord — eddie is about to convert to a new religion, or maybe found one, over the stretch of those slacks.

“damn,” he says quietly.

“gross,” a woman says. eddie startles and looks to the side, where a lanky brunette with a bob and an undercut is staring at him, unimpressed. she’s in some get up that screams athletic trainer, and there’s a white board in her hand.

“how long have you been there?” he asks.

she raises an eyebrow. “long enough, and honestly, i don’t know if that counts as a you rule for him, or a you suck for you,” she says and does not elaborate when he asks. “also don’t look at him like that. it’s steve. he’s basically my sister.”

“yeah? any tips then?” asks eddie. “i promise i’ll only use them for good. well. mostly.”

“god,” she says with an expansive eye roll. “you’re gonna be a nightmare, aren’t you?”

a cheer goes up outside the room as the teams, presumably, take the ice again. eddie, head throbbing, concussed, embarrassed, grins. “sure hope so,” he says.

[dylansbedroom]

you've always looked up to me. even as kids, you played with my toys, watched the same movies as me, and wore my clothes. when I came out to you and our parents, I recognized the look in your eyes. admiration, love. brotherly or otherwise. so I wasn't surprised that when it was your turn to come out, you came into my bedroom afterward and asked me for advice.

I drove you to your first endo appointment. I sat in the corner when they drew your blood for labs, made conversation with the staff so you could relax. showed you where the needle goes and how deep to push it in. pretended not to notice how shaky your breath got when I rolled the hem your boxer briefs to your upper thigh. that cute little whimper when I lifted your chin to examine the onset of facial hair.

and all this time, I've been going through my own journey. every new patch of hair, every drop in my voice, I've showed it all to you as proof of what you can expect. you don't have to be scared, because your big brother will do it all first.

phallo is tough. time, money, recovery, multiple operations. but you've been there for me through all of it. feeding me and bringing me my meds. I can tell you like taking care of me. it makes you feel like a big boy, doesn't it? it's nice to switch roles sometimes.

just because I'm sedated doesn't mean I don't notice you. I see those little gym shorts you wear around the house. how they hug your ass and get caught in the cleft of your cunt, showing off your tdick. we've always just looked, never touched. even though you make it difficult. we've always left things unspoken. and for a while, I thought I could be happy with that. maybe I convinced myself the fantasy would be better than the real thing.

but I'm so frustrated. I've been in bed for a while. lots of check-ups, nerves reconnecting. my body has changed so much. it's hard to ignore the need now that I'm bigger. what used to be butterflies in my stomach has become a hot ache in my pelvis.

so don't be surprised when I tell you to sit beside me on the bed. don't be shocked when I pull down the blankets and tell you I'm just going to show you, since you've asked so many questions.

and don't look away. I'm going to wrap my hand around it so you can really see the size. put your hand on your own cock. over your little shorts, feel how much smaller it is compared to my new one.

cute, you let your mouth hang open a little because you were staring so intently. you ought to close it unless you plan on using it. to compliment the results, I mean.

of course it gets hard. let me show you how. watch how it changes. pretty cool, yeah? it's impressive. maybe someday you can have this. right now, you're stuck with that cunt, though, aren't you? oh, you're embarrassed about it, I can tell. you want a dick like your big brother's. hey, maybe you can get one that matches mine. same dimensions.

you tired of looking? want to feel it? in your hand? inside? deep? it's nothing weird. just want to show you what you can expect. just trying to help you decide what kind of man you want to be. hnng fuck. god, finally. finally, you've touched it. and now there's no going back. you want it. you want everything, don't you? me too.

[grapejuicestyless]

To Love, To Love, To Love

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: You thought you were over him in every way possible, but you can never really kill feelings that strong.

His curls were soft between my fingers, knuckle deep in his hair, pulling out the tangles with each curl of my fingers.

He hummed appreciatively against my chest, his cheek pressed to my body, lips resting heavily between the valley of my breasts. I could feel each breath lingering on my skin, his lip balm smeared on my shirt, one he had bought for me the night before to match.

“They just threw away the entire plot line in the fourth movie, I don’t get it. It’s like everything that made the first three so good was completely ruined for the sake of some extra cash.” Harry mumbled tiredly, pointing at the tv with narrowed eyes.

“This company always does this, can you even be surprised? Every successful franchise always becomes a cash grab for them.”

Harry hummed, and the sound vibrated against my body. It was all so serene between us. A calm after a whirlwind of a few years.

Harry and I had been two wild dogs, chasing after each other’s tails, running in desperate circles yet we ran at the same pace, and we never figured out how to capture what we wanted.

So many nights had been spent crying over the boy, how my heart ached with affection for my best friend, how badly I needed him to want me. I began dressing better for him, and carrying around mints with the hope that maybe the next time I would see him, he would have me.

But I was a dog with a bird at his door, giving him something valuable to myself that it seemed he never wanted.

Harry did the same things. He’d been drowning in his love for his best friend for so long, aching pains in his bones from the waiting for me. He’d never wanted anything more, but the talking from strangers and advice from friends led us astray. How could the other love each other? How could our best friend develop feelings for us? It all seemed so impossible, and the tears drowned us until we flushed out, and our conversations ran dry.

Nobody tells you that even once you move on, those feelings never really leave. Even now, after years of silence that neither of us meant to keep, after we convinced ourselves we flushed away our devotion and joked about how blind we were, with his head on my chest now I feel especially warm in the familiar house.

You can fall out of love with people, but there will always be that lingering feeling of “what if.” A feeling that bubbles until the warmth returns and your situations draw you back into the storm like a riptide pulling you under. Part of me would always love Harry, only now I liked him much more to ever try and be in love with him again.

Silence is much worse than any rejection. The heartache of realizing you lost contact three months deep hurts much worse than any apology for not returning your feelings. It’s like a knife.

We’ve grown now, we’re older, we can control ourselves. We aren’t teenagers who run around kissing the people by the bars, we stay inside and don’t go looking for something that will someday find us. When I complain that I want to kiss someone, to be kissed, he raises his hand eagerly and smiles, declaring he wants to press his lips to mine. But it’s all a joke now, or that’s how I see it.

Maybe to him, it’s not. Maybe when we make jokes about being in love, about the songs he wrote for me in my wake and the tears I shed over him it’s because part of it is still true, maybe we just don’t believe it anymore. Harry once loved me just as hard and true as I once did for him. Though we may not be chasing after one another, I know that part of him still loves me too.

When we’re forty and single, we’ll get married, and we’ll laugh about how long it took us to get together, but for now he lays on my chest and makes fun of some old movies that seemed better when we were kids. He points out the bad green screen that we never caught when we were younger, and his laughter will echo through my bones.

And I’ll soak up every moment with him, because even if we never happened, at least I have him. At least we never became strangers.

[leviraaaaaa]

Levi nation, how we feeling today? 😔🫶

“What am I to you, Levi?”

The question was sudden, soft words reaching through the silence that had been until then. Levi looked up.

“What?”

You tilted your head, stretched on his sofa. You laid on it so casually, with your head resting on your folded arms, leaning against the armrest, one would think you were right at home. In your hands, you held a book, but he knew it had been on the same page for a while and that you hadn't been reading a word from it. No. He knew because your eyes had been on him instead.

“What am I to you?” You repeated when he didn't answer.

He looked at you as you watched him with a subtle eagerness behind your eyes. He was unable to form a reply. Why did you always say the most unexpected shit out of nowhere? You were so casual about it too, looking at him as if you merely asked him how his day was.

“What the fuck.” He muttered.

“What?”

He sighed, leaning back as he closed his pinched his eyebrows together. He chose this, he reminded himself for the hundredth time in his life, he brought this upon himself when he picked the most infuriating cadet to be his second. It was his fault and no one else's, that everyday he had to tolerate you and your ridiculousness. Why the hell had he done that?

“Stop with the stupid fucking questions.” He groaned irritatedly.

“Maybe if you answered them, I'd leave you alone.”

“Did you come here to distract me?”

You laughed softly. “Am I distracting you?”

“Don't think I haven't felt you staring at me.”

Your face showed no sign of embarrassment whatsoever at the very true accusation, instead there was amusement in your eyes. You leaned in, determined.

“Do you like me Levi?”

It's the way you looked at him. You knew. Of course you knew. He blinked, his chest suddenly tight. Suddenly, the room was suffocating. He looked anywhere but you.

“..in what way? Because you as a person is pretty shit."

But no, you see right through him. There was disappointment in your face. You sighed. “Liar.” You looked away from him, slumping back on the couch and draping an arm over your face. “I'm making this so easy for you, Levi. So fucking easy.”

He didn't have to look at you to know what you had meant.

Coward.

It was so easy, wasn't it? All he had to do is admit. To tell you yes. But he couldn't. Not even that.

“What if I die in tomorrow's expedition? How would you feel then? Knowing you had the chance and you didn't take it?” Your voice was casual, but there was reproach underneath. Levi flinched. It was a very real possibility. You hit right on the nail.

“Bull.” His expression darkened. “Don't say shit like that. We aren't even supposed to interact with titans.”

That was literally not the point, you thought annoyedly. But of course. Levi, the king of confrontation. What were you expecting? No, you hadn't expected much better from him in the first place, did you?

Your voice was tired when you spoke again.

“Are you ever going to tell me?”

You looked so exhausted. There were no expectations in your eyes. It was your way of giving him a way out, he realized, to let him know you didn't expect an answer from him. That he could just remain silent if he wanted to.

And he wanted to.

But he looked at you and felt something tight in his throat.

“...Maybe.” He murmured finally, his voice so quiet you could barely hear him. But your eyes widened. “Someday.”

You pushed your hand off your face, sitting up to look at him with surprise. You gazed blankly for a moment. That was as close as a confession you'd get.

You smiled.

“Someday.” You echoed.

—

Levi was sleeping.

Somehow he was aware he was sleeping.

There was a blunt ache somewhere in his chest. But he couldn't remember being hurt. His face felt dry, lips chapped, his eyes heavy. He was asleep, but he still felt so tired.

“Do you like me, Levi?”

He stirred, his consciousness returning back to him slowly as his mind registered the voice. He knew that voice. He knew those words. Like a twisted echo of something he couldn’t escape. A feeling of familiar sinister dread crept to his stomach.

Don't look. He tells himself. Don't look. If he didn't look, you'd go away.

He does anyway.

You're back on his couch, grinning slyly at him. When he looked at you, you’re smiling at him, eyes twinkling with amusement as if you were sharing a joke with him. An inside joke that only the two of you will understand.

You were sprawled on your stomach, the way one would to sunbathe. With both your arms on the armrest, you had your chin resting atop them, staring at him with those eyes. As though you belonged there, as though you’d never left. It was such a casual scene. Such a normal scene. Yet, he felt nauseous.

There was a vacancy in his chest, a suffocating emptiness. He hated it when you did that.

What made it worse you didn't even expect a fucking answer. You knew him too well for that. You came here every night for no other reason than to entertain yourself with his helplessness, like a sick, twisted little game.

“Must you do this every night?”

He asked. He could hear his own pleading tone, like he was begging you. He knew how pathetic he sounded, how miserable he must have looked. But you were grinning at him like he said something funny, it was such an obvious answer after all.

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” You asked him.

Fuck. Fuck.

“I would've.” His head hurt. He felt hollow. “You know I would've.”

“You didn't though.”

“I would've.” He repeated. Yet, he was doubtful of his own words, Would he have?

“Someday.” You hummed, reminding him, taunting him. It was a knife to his chest. He couldn't breathe.

Someday. The accusation was obvious underneath your casual tone. Someday. Just not today. Not then. Not now. Not ever.

“You're not being fair.”

“Oh.” You sighed softly, almost mocking him. “But Levi, when were you ever fair to me?”

He shook his head, your words creeping inside his brain like a parasite. “Leave. Please.”

You let out a chuckle, like it was the funniest thing you'd ever heard. Then you pushed yourself off the couch, standing up straight. You took your time, stretching your arms lazily like you had all day in the world, shooting him a soft smile. Then with every step you approached him with, he could feel his heart sinking. A little. A little. A little. More.

He let out a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut. He knew exactly the words you would say next. Every night. It was the same every night. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“But I'm not here.”

Your voice was soft beside his ear. A haunting whisper. He felt your fingers trailing the edge of his jaw, tilting his face towards you. Your hands slid down his neck and he shivered, opening his eyes to meet yours, all your playfulness gone. Now you just looked sad.

“Why are you doing this to yourself, Levi?” You said sadly, his name was soft in your lips, you said it like it was so fragile. “Why don't you let me go?”

You were so close. So fucking close. It took everything in him to not reach out, to not pull you in. He was stiff, pressed against the back off his chair, trying his best to put distance between. But it was no use. He was only a man, after all.

Your next words were a warm whisper against his lips, just a breath away.

“Wake up, Levi.” You told him. “Wake up.”

And when he opened his eyes, he was staring at the dark ceiling of his bedroom.

9 months, 2 weeks and 4 days since the day he'd lost you. 9 months, 2 weeks and 4 days of sleepless night. It had been 9 months, 2 weeks and 4 days of dreaming about you.

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 12 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: When Anna noticed that a new poem by her favorite, amateur writer had been posted, she was afraid to read the finality in his tone. But Bob always managed to surprise her. And maybe she could find a way to surprise Kevin, too.

Warnings: Angst, Kevin is a dick, adult language, 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!

After that, it was radio silence. Anna didn't reach out to Bob, and he didn't try to either. He went to the Hard Deck on Friday night and lasted about an hour before excusing himself. Nobody asked him why he was bailing after one ginger ale and a single cup of peanuts, and that was enough to tell him that everyone knew. Everyone knew he slept with Anna. Everyone knew she was married. Everyone knew that they shouldn't talk about it in front of him for fear that the ladies would snap their necks. Even Nat was being very kind and considerate which wasn't really like her at all. 

When Bob was halfway to the door, he felt a small hand curl around the back of his bicep. "I'll see you tomorrow night for D&D?"

He nodded down at Jessica's hopeful face. "Yeah. I can pick you up if you want."

Her face brightened a little bit. "I'll text you in the morning." He turned to walk out, and her hand slid down his arm. "Hey, Bob? Don't give up hope on her, okay?"

He didn't know how to respond, so he just kept walking. He had no idea what to say or what to think. It wasn't like he could stop loving someone overnight. He didn't really want to either. Anna's life was quite frankly messier than he had ever expected. She did a pretty good job of hiding it from everyone, and it seemed like she would have continued down that path if they didn't have sex. And that was the other issue; it wasn't just sex to Bob. Anna knew about the things he tried to hide himself, and she seemed to want him in that moment anyway. 

Her words from the previous night made him ache. 

'You're perfect. You're Sky Writing. You're the handsome man from the bookstore who smells like tea and soap. You're Bob, the guy my friends knew I would fall in love with as soon as I met them.'

If that meant she was in love with him or that she thought she could be someday, then he was afraid to walk away from her. But now he was terrified of getting hurt or somehow hurting Anna like Kevin had. Part of him believed if he could just see Anna's husband with his own eyes, confirm that he was exactly the way she described him, then he might be able accept that she just needed time to settle her divorce and to heal. If that was the case, he wanted to make it work. 

In the meantime, when he got home, he ended up standing in his living room, staring at his bookshelf before going upstairs and staring at his bed. He could still picture her red hair all spread out for him. He could still feel it between his fingers as the silky strands slid along his palm. He could taste her on his tongue. He could hear her telling him what she wanted.

Bob picked up his computer and slipped under the covers, knowing he wasn't going to be able to sleep right now.

----------------------------

It had been there since early Saturday morning. A new one. Anna desperately wanted to read it and memorize it like she had the others, but she was afraid to face the finality. Her email alert mocked her every time she looked at it.

Sky Writing has posted a new, original work! Click the link below to check out the subscriber that you follow!

Bob wrote a new poem, and she didn't think she could handle reading exactly how he viewed her now. He'd never be like Kevin, openly belittling her or putting her down, but she knew the shiny packaging had been removed now, and he saw what was really inside. Just a mess of a human. She put off reading it and put off reading it, but when she was sitting at her desk at work on Monday, she made herself decide between reading the new poem or calling Kevin. After a fairly short debate, she decided to read the poem. It was probably so bad, calling Kevin later wouldn't even feel painful in comparison. 

She tapped on the link in her email and was taken to something so unexpected, she gasped as she read it.

There is empty space on my bookshelf,

The one I bought with you in mind.

I didn't know it was for you at the time,

But one night made it obvious,

Before an instance took it.

Reality surpassed intention today.

Your worn favorites and mine pristine,

Should mingle and mix,

Genre forgotten.

Dog eared pages became so endearing.

But I'll never see them on my shelf,

Unless you come back and stay this time.

The format was different from what he usually wrote, but it was so obviously Sky Writing. So obviously Bob. So obviously about her. And he didn't sound angry. Could he possibly miss her after everything she did and said?

She jumped when her phone vibrated on her desk, and for a split second, she believed it could be Bob. Her heart beat faster with anticipation, but it was from somebody else.

Jessica Reed: If you don't come down to this weird tree right now, we're going to come up and get you.

Anna had lost track of time. It was after noon now. She knew that her friends were trying to make sure she was holding herself together after she refused to go to the Hard Deck over the weekend. How could she continue to go somewhere that Bob had the rights to first? It wasn't until she read his Sky Writing poem that she thought perhaps there was a chance he might not only be okay with her presence but perhaps even miss her like she missed him.

With her sad little lunch in hand, she dragged herself down to the quad, trying to decide when was the best time to call Kevin. She was tired of going through lawyers who couldn't seem to get him to budge, and each ninety day window just ate away at more of her soul. She should have been so much more careful with her writing when she had the opportunity, and now he'd completely locked her out of being able to access it. 

No, she was going to have to beg him, plead with him, anything it took to get what she wanted without giving away where she'd moved. Maybe if he agreed to let her have her manuscript, one of her friends would let her borrow money for a flight back to New Jersey to retrieve it. She was getting ahead of herself, but she couldn't help it. She needed to at least get this one thing.

"There she is!"

Anna looked up to see her friends directly in front of her on the bench by the tree, and the fact that they both looked happy to see her made her heart ache. "Hi," she said softly as she sat down between them when they both scooted over.

"Hummus?" her friend asked, passing along a container while she bit into her perfect looking chicken salad sandwich on artisan bread. Anna accepted a few bites of Bradley's gourmet snack, because she was absolutely starving today.

"Thanks," she murmured, and she let herself sink into the background a little bit as the two other women continued the conversation they'd been having. Now that she was down here with his friends, she couldn't stop thinking about Bob again. His soft hair and his kind eyes. The way he always paid attention to her when she was talking. How good he made her feel.

She listened to her friends argue about alumni weekend for a few minutes before she finally cut them off to ask, "Has Bob said anything about me?" Both of them looked at her, and she quickly added, "I can't stop thinking about him."

Jessica smiled softly and said, "Not a word, but I've never seen him look so sad. And I mean that in a good way, because although I know he's confused and hurt, I'm pretty sure he just misses you."

"But," the other woman quickly cut in, "the most important thing right now is making sure you take care of yourself. Even if you are in love with Bob."

"Oh!" Jessica exclaimed. "I have an idea! We could just kill Kevin!"

Anna snorted in spite of herself. "That would actually solve a lot of my problems. Maybe even all of them."

"Only one problem with that," Advanced Calculus said blandly. "You're not a killer, Jessica."

"I could kill someone," Jessica muttered under her breath, and truly Anna almost laughed, because Jessica Reed was one of the gentlest people she'd ever met. The most violent thing about her was her Dungeons & Dragons character. "I could at least probably slap him."

"He wouldn't know what hit him," Anna said, and all three women erupted into laughter. And it felt so strange to feel genuine happiness, even if it only lasted for a few seconds, that Anna almost started crying. As their amusement died down, she asked her friends, "Do you think.... Bob would respond if I texted him?"

Jessica squeaked, and then both women said, "Yes."

---------------------------

Bob was back to square one. Back at the bookstore. He was fifteen minutes early. He was already looking through the Classics. He was about to meet up with Anna. He was nervous.

Nat scoffed when he told her where he was going, and he truly did appreciate that his friend wanted him to proceed with caution, but she just didn't understand how Anna made him feel. Being friends with her after sleeping together a total of one time might kill him, but he knew that was probably all he could have now.

It was almost like he could sense that she was there. He looked up from the Shakespeare volume in his hand, and he saw her walk in the door. As he got closer to the loft railing, he saw her glance up and meet his eyes like it was some depraved version of Romeo and Juliet. She mouthed the word Hi before she headed for the stairs, and in less than a minute, she was standing right in front of him. 

Anna looked nervous, but everything else was just the same. Those perfect freckles decorated her face. Her brown eyes were bright. Her pretty hair was in a messy braid. He saw her burgundy nail polish as she fidgeted with her denim jacket. He wanted to know if she still thought he was the kind of person she could love. He wanted to ask her if her husband was any closer to signing papers. Instead he said, "I was surprised when you texted me."

Her eyes went wide, and he wished he could shove his foot in his mouth as she started looking around anywhere but at his face. "I need some books for my feminist literature course, and I just thought maybe you'd like more books for your bookshelf."

Had she read his newest poem? It was a sloppy one that he wrote late on Friday night and posted on a whim. She could have deleted her account by now or vowed never to read anything else by Sky Writing. But that didn't stop the poem from being about her.

"I do need some more books for my shelves," he replied, and her eyes finally settled on his again. "And you don't have to be nervous around me. I know you're dealing with a lot, and I promise I won't touch you or anything."

Now she just looked sad and distraught, but she nodded and turned down the very aisle where they first met. Bob had to fight to keep a few feet of space between them as she said, "I'm looking for Mary Wollstonecraft, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, and Elizabeth Cady Stanton."

They worked their way slowly up and back down each aisle, falling into a natural conversation in spite of the awkwardness between them. In spite of the way Bob couldn't keep himself from looking at her as she ran her fingers along the spines. When she wanted something that was on a top shelf, he reached it down for her. When her hands got full, he offered his up for her use. And to his delight and also sadness, she kept recommending books for him along the way. That's how he ended up with Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day as well as The Importance of Being Earnest in his hand when she led the way downstairs to pay.

Bob cleared his throat as Anna reached into her pocket for some cash. "I can get them."

Her brown eyes snapped up to meet his, and her cheeks turned pink. He already knew what Kevin did, and while he didn't think there was any harm in saying it, he could tell that she at least had her pride intact. "The college is going to reimburse me," she said firmly before handing forty dollars across the counter.

"Right," Bob said before paying for his own books. When they walked out into the fading sunlight, he looked down into her pretty face. "Will you let me drive you home? Not because I think I need to, but because I want to?"

She seemed at war with herself as she looked across the street and pressed her lips together. But her eyes fluttered closed and she said, "I would really appreciate that."

The interior of his truck was quiet the whole way as their books sat on the seat between them. Only the soft hum of the radio helped Bob hold his thoughts at bay. The ride wasn't too long, and when they were most of the way there, Anna finally spoke. 

"I'm going to deal with my shit. I promise."

Unsure exactly how he should respond, Bob simply said, "Okay."

When he pulled up in front of her building, he turned toward her, intending to ask if she wanted him to walk her up, but she was gathering her books together as she said, "I don't know how you feel about me now. I don't know if you could want me again. But I am going to deal with Kevin. I am going to fix my life. Because I want to move on. I need to." When he was so flustered that he didn't immediately respond, Anna said, "You know where to find me. Thanks for the ride."

He watched her run up the sidewalk before struggling to open the door with her arms full, and then she ducked inside when he finally figured out what he wanted to say. "I'll find you."

-------------------------------

If Anna even had a hope or a prayer at a chance with Bob ever again, she needed to work up the nerve. A real chance with him now that he knew all about her disastrous marriage was what she wanted, but she needed to sort Kevin out first. 

As far as she could tell, everything came down to two options: keep her freedom by giving Kevin ownership of her manuscript, or keep her self worth by fighting until she didn't have anything left to give up. And both of them sounded terrifying. The whole weekend passed where she tried so many times to call him. She took her phone out again and again, let her thumb hover over her husband's phone number, and then chickened out. His voice was like a distant memory, and she didn't want to bring it back to the forefront of her mind. He hadn't reached out one time since she up and left without telling him where she was going, and she was afraid to let him know where she was now.

The worst part was, he would know immediately why she was calling. He knew that he had the one thing she wanted. He cut off her access to the cloud files where she should have been able to piece her writing back together. It would have been time consuming, but she would have been all too happy to do it. She should have known better than to let him have so much of her life and so many of her resources in only his name, but there was a time when she trusted him. That was the part that made her so sick. She had trusted her husband, and now look where it got her.

A shiver went through her body as she woke up for work too early on Monday morning. She wanted Kevin's computer where everything was saved. She wanted access to the cloud. She didn't want a damn penny from him otherwise. She was aggressively brushing her teeth, wishing she had more to eat than a granola bar when she spit out her toothpaste and rinsed her mouth.

She hated him. She hated him so much, she was going to call him right now. Without a backward glance, she marched over to where her phone was charging and pulled the cable out. Before she could even think about exactly what she was going to say, she tapped on his stupid name.

Anna was breathing fast and deep, her heart pounding in her ears when she heard his voice for the first time in so many months.

"Anna?" he asked, her whole body cringing after just one word. His voice was scratchy as if she had woken him up, but it was 9:16 in New Jersey. He should be on his way to work if not there already.

"Kevin," she snapped, gripping her phone tighter. She was getting angrier by the second as she listened to him yawn while she looked around her tiny apartment.

His tone was condescending as he said, "Of course you'd call me at six in the fucking morning after I haven't hear a word from you except through a lawyer since July. What the hell do you want?"

She couldn't do this. She couldn't talk to him. While she felt strong a few minutes ago, her resolve was already crumbling. She wanted to tell him that he knew damn well what she wanted, but then she zeroed in on what he said. "What do you mean it's six in the morning? It's after nine."

His voice was suddenly loud and harsh. "I meant exactly what I said. I'm in California for a medical convention. Now get to the point of your call."

Her mouth felt like sandpaper as she carefully put her phone on speaker. She started searching for Neurological conventions in California while she told him, "I just want my manuscript. Please, Kevin. That's all I want, and then you can be rid of me."

The bite was gone from his voice, replaced by a lazy tone, and he spoke to her as if she were a very simple child. "It's not going to happen, Anna. I didn't cut off access to it for no reason. It's worth money. You can pay me for it, or you can kiss it goodbye. I might even publish it myself."

She was gasping for air as she scrolled through her search results, coming up with a conference in Carlsbad that was starting today. As the page loaded, she swallowed and told him, "I'll sue you if you do." But even she knew she was full of shit.

"What what money, Anna? I'm surprised you can still afford your lawyers. I don't even want to know what you're doing to make ends meet right now."

Then she saw it. She saw his name. He was a keynote speaker at the National Neurological Physicians Association conference. He was less than an hour away. She sank down to her knees in surprise and fear. Her mind was swirling with information and ideas, and she couldn't even comprehend what Kevin was saying now.

"What?" she gasped.

"I said come up with some money for me, or I'm not signing shit." Then he ended the call as her hands started shaking. She dropped her phone onto her bed. He was in Carlsbad. Maybe she could surprise him. Maybe she could talk him into it easier in person.

Anna had to run to the bathroom to be sick, but her mind was made up. Once she cleaned herself up again, she tearfully made the decision to cancel her morning classes via email, and then she started grabbing her purse and her essentials. She folded up the newest copy of the divorce paperwork her lawyer had emailed to her and tucked it away. Then she ran for the bus stop, nearly tripping several times as she read through the schedule of speakers who were at the conference this week on her phone. If she caught a bus within the next fifteen minutes, she might make it in time to see Kevin right before he gave his welcome speech.

---------------------------

We will meet Kevin in the next chapter. Now is an acceptable time to start sharpening your knives. Bob, please don't give up on Anna. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 13

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[chestersturniolo]

𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘴

Matt Sturniolo x fem!reader

•the heart wrenching notion of right person, wrong time •

warnings; none apart from no happy ending!

••••••••

It was a cool evening, the kind where the air was crisp but not cold enough to make you shiver. You sat on the park bench, as the sun started to set. You could hear the soft rustle of leaves and the distant noise of the main streets, but all you could focus on was Matt sitting beside you.

Months had led up to this moment—months of late-night conversations, spontaneous adventures, and sharing parts of yourself you hadn’t shown anyone else. He was the kind of person who made you laugh without trying, who knew when to talk and when to simply sit in silence with you. And yet, here you were, on the verge of saying goodbye.

“Timing is such a cruel thing, isn’t it?” Matt said softly, breaking the stillness between you. His voice had that familiar warmth, but there was a heaviness to it now, a sadness.

You nodded, struggling to find words for a moment. "Yeah…it really is”

Matt turned to look at you, his blue eyes catching the last bits of sunlight. The conflict in them was clear—he wanted this as much as you did, but there was something bigger, something neither of you could change. “If things were different—if we’d met just a year from now, maybe we wouldn’t be having this conversation”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’ve thought about that a lot too. But it’s not a year from now…It’s now…”

Matt looked down at his hands, his fingers tracing the edge of the bench. “I can’t ask you to wait for me. It’s not fair. My career... this move... it’s going to change everything, and I don’t even know what that looks like for me yet. I don’t want to drag you into something uncertain”

He was leaving to pursue his youtube career with his brothers in LA — a dream opportunity, something he’d worked so hard for. You were proud of him, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. The timing, as always, was off. The universe had a funny way of bringing people together just to pull them apart again.

“I don’t want to hold you back, either” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “You deserve this, Matt. And I... I have things I need to figure out too”

It wasn’t a lie. You had your own ambitions, your own dreams you were chasing. But that didn’t change the fact that, right now, sitting next to him, you wished things were different. You wished the rest of the world would stop for a while, so the two of you could just exist here, without all the complications.

Matt sighed and leaned back, looking up at the sky. “You know what’s funny? I’ve never felt more connected to someone than I do with you. But life… life just won’t wait”

You turned to him, heart aching. “What if we’re making a mistake? What if we’re letting something slip away that could’ve been—”

He cut you off gently. “No, don’t think like that. What we have... it’s real. But sometimes love isn’t enough to change the timing of things. Maybe we’re supposed to meet again when the time is right”

The words stung, even though you knew they were true. Maybe it wasn’t forever. Maybe someday, when your paths crossed again, things would fall into place. But right now, you were at a crossroads, and you couldn’t walk the same path.

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. His fingers laced with yours, and you sat like that for a long moment, neither of you wanting to let go.

“When you leave tomorrow...” you started, your voice trembling.

“When I leave tomorrow, it doesn’t change what we had” he finished for you. 

The tears you’d been holding back finally slipped down your cheek, but you quickly wiped them away, not wanting him to see. “Do you think we’ll find our way back to each other someday?”

Matt smiled, but it was a sad smile. “I really hope so sweetheart….but if we don’t, at least we’ll know that for a while, we found something extraordinary , something real… eachother”

You nodded, knowing this moment would stay with you no matter what the future held.

As the sun disappeared completely behind the horizon, you knew it was time. Time to let go, even though it felt impossible.

The silence between you grew heavy. Matt glanced at you, his eyes searching yours for a moment,as tears started brimming in his own.

He leaned in slowly ,placing his lips into yours, soft and tender, a kiss that held everything you couldn’t say. It was a kiss filled with goodbye, with love, with all the moments you’d shared and the ones you would never have. Time seemed to stop around you, and for that brief moment, nothing else existed. Just the two of you.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and you could feel his breath against your skin. His hand cupped your face gently, thumb brushing away the tear that had slipped down your cheek.

“I love you—” he whispered, his voice trembling. 

“—I love you with my whole heart”

Your chest tightened, the weight of those words sinking into you. You felt it too, every ounce of what he was saying. “I love you too”

But you both knew love wasn’t enough to change what was happening next.

Matt hesitantly stood up, offering his hand. With a small sigh you wrap your hand around his, pulling yourself up.

He pulled you close, kissing you one last time, the taste of salty tears from both of you lingering.

You both slowly pulled away,

“I’m going to miss you” you whispered.

Matt squeezed your hand gently before letting go. “I’m going to miss you too-“ be breathed, trying his hardest to hold back his tears, but failing miserably as they continued to fall. 

“-Maybe in another life,huh?” he sniffled.

You left out a soft sob at his words, tears streaming uncontrollably. Your bring your hand up to your chest, laying it comfortingly over your aching heart. 

All you could muster was a small nod 

“Another life” you whisper.

You both stood for a moment, just looking at eachother. Trying to memorise every detail. 

Matt placed his hand on your cheek, before leaning forward, placing a lingering kiss to your forehead. He pulls away, as his thumb brushes back and forth. His teary eyes met yours, both of you silently saying goodbye. It was too painful to say out loud. You both knew it, and you knew eachother knew it. So you stood silently, letting your gazes say it all. 

Matt slowly started walking backwards, his eyes still locked to yours, with a small smile and sniffle, he turned around. 

As he started walking away from you, you couldn’t hold back the sobs, wrapping your arms around yourself as a form of faux comfort.

Matt stops in his tracks, the sound of your cries ripping his heart to shreds. He stands still, his back still facing you.

“Don’t look back Matt” you call out, voice trembling. 

He stayed paused, for what felt like an eternity. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the conflict in his stance. But finally, he took a deep breath and hesitantly continued walking, each step heavy with finality. You watched as his silhouette got smaller , and eventually disappeared into the dark, carrying your heart with him. 

••••••••••••

A/N; i’m actually distraught after writing that wtf😭 probably the saddest thing i’ve written and i hate it but love it at the same time. thankyou for reading loves!!

- 𝑺𝒂𝒈𝒆 ♡

MASTERLIST

taglist;

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@brianna-grace12 @blahbel668 @stvrlighht @witchofthehour 

[ponderingmoonlight]

How JJK men react to different insecurities Part 2

Pairings: Nanami x reader who doesn't want kids (requested by anons) Gojo x reader who gained weight (requested by anon) Megumi x reader who has a hooked nose (requested by @monikosworld)

Word Count: 3,2k

Warnings: as usual, please don't read if you feel triggered by those topics, Nanami's and Gojo's part are a little angst to extreme fluff, remember you are beautiful just the way you are (all those JJK men agree with me after all) and none of those insecurities take away from that 🤍

Especially for this series I'm very thankful for every feedback in terms of comments, likes and/or reblogs since it's pretty challenging for me to write 🤍

click here for Part 1 with Nanami (reader with facial scars), Megumi (reader with small breasts) and Sukuna (reader with acne)

Also, I wish everyone of you the happiest holidays ever! May all your dreams and wishes come true and remember to stay just the way you are - you are perfect 🌹

Kento Nanami with a reader who doesn't want kids

Your heart skips a beat when his gaze meets yours, his elegant steps trapping you in place. God, how is it possible for a man to be this gorgeous, how is it even allowed for him to look this good? When you first met Kento Nanami, you fell in love with him at first sight. Nothing about this man could ever throw you off.

Except for the stinging fact that he seems like the perfect father.

The way he acts especially around Yuji Itadori warms and breaks your heart at the same time. Even though he never specifically said that he wants to have children someday, you can just tell by the loving gleam in his eyes when Yuji isn’t paying attention how much he cares for that boy. And while you get why he feels this way, it makes your guts turn.

You never wanted kids. Not your own, not adopted, not a single thought of urging for a baby ever crossed your mind. You love your life the way it is, maybe with a pet when you finally settled in, but children? They were never part of the plan.

But this is important, right? How would it even be possible for a romantic relationship to work when such a life-changing decision differs? You don’t even have to ask him about this. The way he always saves children first, how he acts towards the young students, his dad-like appearance when something happens to them. Oh, how you love it and hate it at the same time. Over the past months, you grew very close to each other, spent evening after evening at each other’s places. He began to bring you flowers on a regular basis, even cuddling you to sleep when you come back from an exhausting mission.

You can’t give him more, though. Not when it’s so obvious that you want different things in life, not when your relationship is going to fail before it even started.

“There you are, I searched everywhere for you.”

He presses a gentle kiss against your cheek, making your heart ache in agony all over again. How are you supposed to get out of this? Damn, you don’t even want to get out, you want to be by his side until the end of time, you want to fall asleep and wake up next to this man. But deep down, you know this isn’t fair, that it isn’t possible to live a life like this without giving up your principles or forcing him to give up the thought of having children someday.

“There is something very important I wanted to talk about for a long time. (y/n), you make me feel better than I ever did in my entire life, the time I have with you is so precious to me that I can’t even put it into words. I know this might sound strange and I don’t know if this is the correct way to do it but I was wondering if you…if you want to make it official.”

You feel like fainting and throwing up at the same time, eyes for a single spark of humour in his gleaming orbs. This is great!

Your heart sinks.

No, actually it isn’t. Because this is the time you’ll have to push him away. This innocent question is the end of the wonderful thing you’ve had. Why? Why are you so suborn? Why is the thought of having children so disgusting for you? Aren’t you able to change for the love of your life, for the sake of the strong feelings you have for Kento Nanami?

You shake your head, hands clenched into tight fists. No. There is absolutely no way you’ll gift Kento a child just to keep him. This wouldn’t be fair, right? Fair for you, fair for the child, fair for Kento. He deserves someone who loves this idea truly, someone who is able to give him what he needs.

And that someone isn’t you.

“I can’t give you what you want, Kento.”

Your monotone voice catches him off guard, your words cracking his heart like a walnut. This doesn’t make any sense, it seems almost unbelievable.

“But you are what I want, (y/n).”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about”, you bark so suddenly that he flinches, crossing your arms in front of your chest and staring at the ground.

“I can’t give you what you want, the future you deserve.”

“What is it that you’re insecure about? Why would you think there is something you aren’t able to give me?”

“I don’t want kids”, you mutter.

He draws closer, hands about to gently grab your chin when you slap his hand away furious.

“I don’t want kids!”, you shout.

Fuck, why do your eyes have to burn in hot tears right now, why do you have to feel so miserable about this? It’s nothing uncommon, you are enough without having children, you are…

You are not what he wants. And that’s what hurts the most.

Thick silence hangs between both of you, Kento’s hand resting in the air. You don’t even dare to look at him, his face of disappointment would be more than you are able to handle. Why didn’t you tell him sooner? Why did you allow yourself to fall for him when you knew right from the start that this won’t work out long-term?

“Is that what you’re feeling so doubtful about? That you don’t want children?”

You nod silently, the big knot forming in your throat stopping you from saying another word. Breaking down and crying in front of him is the last thing you want to do right now.

“I don’t want children either.”

Oh.

Your glossy eyes dart up in an instant, his hands grabbing yours.

“Even though I will always care and look after children, I don’t want them to carry the burden of this world. I am a jujutsu sorcerer just like you are, we are doomed to risk our lives for the sake of others. I couldn’t forgive myself if I leave a child behind without its father, let alone you. Your wish isn’t a problem for me at all, (y/n).”

You have to blink a few times, mind desperately trying to process his words. The Kento Nanami doesn’t want kids. The thing you were always afraid of…

Isn’t even a problem.

“You don’t want kids as well”, you breathe out.

“I don’t want kids as well, yes.”

“Oh.”

Without hesitation, he pulls you into his arms. Is this a dream? Did it really turn out good? You were always rejected for not wanting children, for disliking the thought of raising a baby. But him, he looks at you with so much affection in his eyes that you almost tear up.

“And I admire you for standing your ground. I know how critical people are when it comes to a person who doesn’t want kids. I always appreciated you for your inner strength, (y/n).”

“I love you, Kento”, you blurt out.

You waste no time. In the matter of seconds, you press your lips longingly against his, set all your feelings free. This is everything you ever dreamed of, all you ever wanted.

Not only did you find a man who accepts you the way you are, but this man happens to me none other than Kento Nanami.

“I love you too, (y/n)”, he mumbles against your lips softly.

Satoru Gojo with a reader who gained some weight

You stare at the number on the scale, eyes watering in defeat. It shouldn’t surprise you that you gained a fair amount of weight. After all, you’ve been so stressed out these past months, roaming from mission to mission and only eating out in consequence. But this, this shocks you. This, this breaks you.

The keys of the main door turn, his long steps linger down the hallways. It’s because of him. Satoru Gojo, your precious boyfriend. The man who fell in love with you years ago and loved you ever since. He is such a good-looking and loving man. And in contrast to you, he’s as fit as he was at the beginning of your relationship.

With a swift motion you lock the bathroom door and let yourself glide down the cold tiles behind you, tears now running down your face like a waterfall. Why do you have to be so damn undisciplined? It shouldn’t be this hard to just eat less, it shouldn’t be this hard to have control over your body.

But it is. And that’s why you’re looking the way you do. It hit you like a wall when your clothes didn’t fit the way they did a few months ago, it almost killed you when a friend of you pointed out what you desperately tried to supress.

“Oh, you gained quite some weight, (y/n)! I almost didn’t recognize you.”

He doesn’t deserve this. No, Satoru deserves a partner who takes care of themselves, he deserves someone who is as fit as himself. Even though not a single negative comment about your body ever left his mouth, you know what he must think – just like everyone else.

And you hate yourself for letting it come this far.

“Babe, are you in there?”

The sound of his fingers knocking against the wooden door makes you panic. No, he can’t see you like this, the only thing you’re wearing is underwear and a t-shirt. The way your thighs giggle with every move, your visible belly, the stretch marks covering your thighs and arms…

He might leave you sooner or later.

“If you’re not answering, I’m just coming in-“

“No”, you interrupt him immediately.

“I don’t want to see you right now.”

It shouldn’t surprise you at all that he opens the door with ease, his feet coming to a stand in front of your cramped-up figure on the floor.

“You never said something like this to me. Hey, are you cryin’?”

Just when you’re about to turn away from him, he lifts you off the ground and presses your body against his faster than you could ever react. You want to hide in a tiny hole, disappear out of his arms. But instead, your eyes are locked with his bright blue orbs.

“What’s wrong babe? I’ve never seen you like this. A snack like you shouldn’t sit here all alone while cryin’.”

“Don’t call me a snack”, you bark at him with more force than intended.

God, how much you hate yourself at the moment. He doesn’t deserve the way you speak to him at all. To be honest, Satoru deserves so much better than you anyway and that fact alone kills you from the inside.

“Why, huh? Am I not allowed to call my girlfriend hot now?”

“I’M FAT, MORON!”

The venomous words escape your mouth before you are able to stop yourself, your pathetic sniffles hollering back at you in disgust. This is so ridiculous. You shouldn’t lash out at him because you feel bad about yourself, you shouldn’t even complain. After all, everything is your own fault.

“You have to be kidding, right? Is this some kind of joke, is a camera behind the mirror?”

You can’t get a hold of yourself anymore. With a swift motion you rip yourself out of his grasp and storm out of the room, not even listening to the things he shouts after you. Isn’t it humiliating enough that he made you say it out loud? Why would you joke about something like this? Your shaky hands grab your keys, ready to leave your shared apartment when he comes storming after you.

“Hey, I didn’t mean it like that. Just look at me, okay?”

Just before you are able to open the door, Satoru’s strong arms grab you from behind and pull you against his chest.

“Don’t you dare to say something like that ever again, (y/n). You’ve been through so much these last months and honestly, I love you more than I ever did before. I’m incredibly proud of the person you’ve became and you’ll always be the hottest chick around. I didn’t even notice that you gained a little weight and I give zero shits about it. You’re hot, you’re gorgeous, you are my girlfriend. And a single number on a random scale will never change that.”

Your whole body begins to tremble as you let yourself fall against him, a sniffle of relief escaping before you are able to stop it. Satoru was never good at playing with words, let alone showing his emotions linguistically. But those oh so sweet words that seem to heal your heart in an instant…

You are truly lucky to have him.

“You really don’t care that I gained some weight?”, you murmur, turning around in his arms in order so see his face.

“I couldn’t care less. And now get your cute ass back at the couch and watch some Netflix, okay?”

Megumi with a reader who has a hooked nose

Megumi can’t help but huff in disappointment when looking at you. There you are again, hiding your gorgeous face behind a mask. You do it day in and day out, stating this is very common and that you don’t want to breathe in all the dust and rubble from the big city.

But you lie. He can tell by the way your eyes dart to the ground and how a slight blush creeps up what’s visible of your cheeks. The first and last time he has seen your gorgeous face was when you wandered around the hallways late at night, obviously not expecting him to be around. You looked so scared back then, your hands instantly covering half of your face.

He always wondered why. Was it because your sense of smell is so good? Is it because he stinks? Instinctively, Megumi lifts up his arm and takes in his own scent. No, it doesn’t seem as if he’s the problem.

“Hi Megumi, how are you today?”

“Why are you always wearing that mask, (y/n)?”

Your heart stops for a second, widen eyes staring at the boy in front of you in nothing but shock. Oh, how often you already tried to fool him, how often you didn’t tell him how you feel. The truth is that you hate the way your nose looks. Every other girl seems to have the perfect little nose, perfectly shaped, cute and innocent.

But you? Your nose is hooked, not straight, tiny or cute by any means. The second you look into the mirror, it seems to stare right through your soul and makes all of your decent facial features fade into the background. Yes, you truly hate the way your nose looks so much that you rather hide it behind a mask each and every day. Especially from him.

Megumi has been your secret crush for quite some time by now, but you never had the courage to tell him, let alone ask him out. Why would he want to be with you anyway? With all those beautiful girls like Nobara and Maki surrounding him, you have nothing to give.

“W-what do you mean?”, you stutter, eyes meeting the ground in an instant.

“You told me over and over you do it because of the dust in the air, but that’s not true, isn’t it? Are you insecure about something?”

“I- you-, M-Megumi…”

You don’t know what to say, completely bamboozled by the way he seems to stare right through your soul. How did he find out you lied? Was it because your cheek turned bright pink? Or was it the fact that you weren’t even able to look in his eyes? Frantically, you try to find a way out of this misery. Maybe a new lie? No, he will smell it from a mile away. Being honest? He’ll definitely make fun of you. But this is Megumi, he isn’t-

“(y/n)”, he interrupts your train of thoughts.

“Let me take of that mask for you.”

You can’t move, let alone talk. With your eyes widen in horror you watch as his hands come closer and closer, fingertips gently gliding behind your ear. This is the moment you’ve been afraid of ever since meeting him. What if he scrunches up his face in disgust? What if he even laughs at you like all those children at school back then?

His eyes roam around your face for what feels like an eternity, face showing not a single emotion. Is this good? Is it bad? Your heart pounds against your ribcage, trembling fingertips intertwined with each other. Please, let this be over soon.

“Maybe I should go-“

“You look absolutely mesmerising. I think I’ve never seen a girl as beautiful as you, (y/n). Why would you hide yourself behind a mask?”

You have to blink a few times in order to process that this is really happening. Yes, Megumi Fushiguro is standing in front of you, looking at nothing but your face while saying that you’re beautiful.

Megumi Fushiguro…Think you’re beautiful?

“B-But…My nose is hooked”, you reply.

“I always thought it makes me look horrible.”

“Horrible?”, he remarks.

“You’re not looking horrible at all. I love the way your nose makes your face looks strong but feminine. There is nothing to be ashamed of.”

The butterflies in your stomach slowly but surely go crazy by now. You must be dreaming all of this. It can’t be Megumi standing in front of you and saying all those nice things, right?

“Really?”

He adores the way your face lights up in an instant. How is it possible that you are this surprised? Did no one tell you already how beautiful you are?

“Of course. I mean every word I say. Also, there’s something I wanted to ask you…”

Him, wanting to ask you something? Megumi scratches the back of his head awkwardly while clearing his throat. Is that a little blush creeping up his cheeks?

“Do you…Do you want to go out with me this evening? We could grab something to eat and I don’t know, watch a movie or something.”

“You really want to go on a date with me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Breathe in, breathe out. Don’t let him see how excited you are.

“I’d love that.”

You turn on your heel and walk out of the room frantically. No, you can’t contain yourself any longer. With a cry of joy, you jump up and down, hand gently rubbing over your nose.

Maybe this isn’t as bad as you thought. Maybe all it takes is a single person who does not only accept you, but adore you just the way you are.

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @chilichopsticks

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 3: TOO SOFT TO CHEW

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader, geto suguru x reader

There’s a nasty thought in the back of his mind that festers every time he thinks about how much his skin longs to be in contact with yours. That someday, this fact will come back to bite him in the ass, that maybe he’s letting his guard down too much.

But that’s a problem for another day.

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: smut (18+ mdni), bratty satoru, big angst, angry sex, oral sex (m receiving)

ੈ✩ wc: 3.3k

ੈ✩ a/n: i kind of hate how short this chapter is but it's a primer for the hell that breaks loose in later chapters. hope yall are enjoying kiss kiss kiss

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

September, 2008

The way Satoru wants you makes your head spin. Your encounters are irregular and almost always in secret. Satoru likes to show you different spots around town, secret havens where he doesn’t have to worry about getting interrupted. This is what he tells you – he doesn’t want to waste a minute with you. You believe him.

It gets unnerving when he begins to take you while you’re both in school. Sometimes in a single-stall bathroom, once in a supply closet. Every time, he makes you cum, and after you’re both spent, you walk back to class together without a word. He doesn’t touch you otherwise.

It contrasts the clingy Satoru that you get at home. He’s touchy, annoyingly so, as if he can’t stand to not be tethered to you for more than two minutes. He is infinitely suffocating and you are too infatuated to care.

When he’s entangled with you in his bed, you ask him a question that guts him.

“Do you think staying like this is a good idea?”

“What do you mean?” Satoru mumbles sleepily. “You wanna get out of bed?”

“No, I mean, this,” you make a vague gesture, “I just… figure that when we go off to different colleges it’ll be harder. To, um, hang out.”

“Huh? What college are you going to?”

You know he doesn’t mean it rudely, like the thought of you investing in higher education was something implausible. You think that maybe he hadn’t thought that far into the future when it came to the two of you together. It makes you ache regardless.

You tell him about the university you got into that was able to give you a scholarship. He looks at you like you have three heads.

“Don’t you want to go to Jujutsu Tech with me?” he asks. 

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you have a technique.”

There’s an awkward silence between you. The air shifts. He pulls you a bit closer, has his hand cupping your jaw. 

“Satoru– I’m not going to be a sorcerer–”

“Why not?” he yawns. “You could get in, easily. Especially if I have anything to do with it. And Shoko could teach you a thing or two—”

“Who said I wanted to become a sorcerer?” you blurt.

Satoru looks at you in disbelief with a hint of betrayal behind his eyes. As if what you say is preposterous, unheard of. Because where would you be if not by his side?

He argues with you about this. It makes your blood warm. The thought of having to follow him around. Forever stuck in his shadow. He was already blessed by heavenly bodies, Six Eyes and all. You were nothing.

You could never compare to the inherent invincibility of his cursed technique. No one truly could. Knowing how late your technique manifested makes you feel even more inferior. With your status in the world, a maid’s daughter, there was no point in becoming a pawn in the Jujutsu world. How would you make a career? How could you ever be strong enough to save anyone? And if you died, you’d only leave behind your mother. 

The wedge between you deepens after that. You realize how far away you are from Satoru on paper despite him aching for your touch, close enough to you right now as his breath licks your face.

There’s no resolution. It snowballs into something worse. This looming threat is above your heads now, a slap of reality about how different the two of you are. You realize it would be convenient for Satoru if the thing between the two of you ended. It wouldn’t matter to him – he had everything. He always would. You only had your heart and your dignity. 

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” Satoru sighs against your temple. “We’ll figure it out. I really do think you should come to Jujutsu Tech.”

He shuts you up with his mouth, with his hands circling your thighs like he always does, the way you always let him.

November, 2008

You’re getting better at your technique. You think you could do just fine if Satoru wasn’t constantly breathing down your neck about it. Especially when he does stupid things to challenge your ability – absentmindedly burning himself on a lighter when he hits a joint, sucking in bruises into your skin that turn dark purple. You’re able to heal it all, but he knows you’re capable of more.

“C’mon. Hit me again.”

“You won’t even let me hit you!”

“Maybe you aren’t trying hard enough. I even let my Infinity down for you.”

Truthfully, Satoru lets his Infinity down for you all the time. It’s as easy as breathing to be around you, and he knows you don’t have the capacity to harm him. There’s a nasty thought in the back of his mind that festers every time he thinks about how much his skin longs to be in contact with yours. That someday, this fact will come back to bite him in the ass, that maybe he’s letting his guard down too much.

But that’s a problem for another day.

You groan in frustration. Satoru’s had you in his backyard for at least two hours, attempting basic combat with cursed energy. Despite claiming that he wants to train you to at least be able to fend for yourself, you think he just enjoys playing with you like a dog. 

“Why are we even doing this?” you complain.

“Even if you don’t end up a big-shot sorcerer, I feel like you should still be able to exorcise a curse,” he shrugs. You’re winded and Satoru looks more than fine. Even after all the athletics, he doesn’t have a hair out of place or a wrinkle in his T-shirt. 

“But my technique is for healing.”

“You have incredible cursed energy output, though,” Satoru says. “It’s why I could never believe you were just a Window.”

The flicker of Satoru’s cursed energy brightens, you notice. You blink and see a dark figure emerge from the side of the house. One with fox-like eyes and a warm smile.

“Satoru! What have you done to our girl?” Suguru bellows. He holds a bag of daifuku in hand, giving you one without asking before Satoru grabs the package greedily. 

“You know I like roughing her up,” Satoru shrugs. “She’s a big girl, she needs to be able to scare away creepy men, y’know?”

“Like who, you? You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not here, dumbass,” you chastise. 

“You could never get rid of me, Twigs.” He grins despite the cheekful of mochi. You and Suguru share a look of distaste. 

Satoru agrees to a snack break, if only to eat most of the daifuku while you make tea for the three of you. Suguru helps you prepare and clean up. It surprises you.

“Thank you, Geto-san.”

He tells you to call him by his first name and you try to convince yourself it’s nothing.

For some reason, Satoru is more rambunctious than usual. He almost always is whenever Suguru is around as if he’s waiting impatiently for something to happen. Waspish. Suguru often calls him a little brat. It’s nothing you could ever say to him, not in a way that has the same meaning. He’s the only one who can tame the beast. Satoru sees Suguru as his other half. Where one goes, the other follows. 

In the grass, they are an ouroboros of limbs as they brawl. Milky flesh flushed pink, gruff grunts and giggles. You imagine yourself between the two boys. You wonder about the taste of Suguru’s skin. If Satoru knows. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did. 

You watch them in awe. Two godlings entwined. 

It’s not enough to want to be in between them — and you know better, because you will never be them. 

“Tap out, Sugu,” Satoru whines. “I’m bored. Let’s train Twigs again.”

“She clearly doesn’t want to,” Suguru remarks, pushing Satoru off like a pest. He wipes the sweat off his forehead with his shirt, exposing his abdomen underneath. You feel like you should look away. “You like sitting in the audience, right, princess?”

Satoru grins at your reaction to princess. You hope the idea of calling you that himself doesn’t get into his head. 

“C’mon, Suguru. Throw her one of your curses. Maybe something without too many legs. She hates those.”

“Absolutely not,” you interject, crossing your arms.

“Okay, then heal me,” Suguru chuckles. He shows you a scratch on his forearm. “This motherfucker fights like a cat.”

“Acts like one, too,” you grumble. “A very annoying one that always wants attention.”

You heal him within seconds and he’s good as new. He holds your hand after, just for a moment. When you blink towards Satoru’s direction, he drops it. 

“You staying for dinner?” Satoru asks. He doesn’t look at you. He isn’t asking you. His gaze is on Suguru instead. 

“Nah, I promised Shoko I’d help her get decorations for the party on Friday,” Suguru answers. He turns to you. “You’re coming, right?”

“Uh—”

“To Shoko’s birthday party. I thought she invited you.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you shrug. Satoru is quiet, pretending to be distracted by his phone. “Satoru?”

“Oh, huh?” He looks up, feigning oblivion. “Yeah. You should come.” 

Maybe he’d forgotten to tell you about it. You swear he has some form of ADHD from how scatterbrained he is. 

Then again, you think about all the time you spend with Satoru. You’re always alone with him, with Suguru as an occasional buffer when he wants to be. The thought of Satoru’s arm around you at a party excites you. Would he hold your hand? Would he introduce you to other people?

“It’ll be, uh, here,” he mutters. “At nine.”

Oh.

“The theme is Scorpio, so wear something hot and dark,” Suguru winks. 

“A sexy little number with a bunch of legs and a stinger, too,” Satoru quips.

satoru: skip next period with me

satoru: wanna kiss u

One thing you’ve known about Satoru since he was a child is that he is annoying when he doesn’t get attention. 

You keep to yourself during the school day, not bothering to see him for lunch in the courtyard like you do every other day. You ignore his texts. You don’t look at him in class.

It’s the same behavior towards him from the last semester. But that was before he started fucking you. When he sears his gaze into your head during class and you don’t even bother to look up, he feels fucking insane. Of course, he won’t rest until he corners you.

He finds you later under a tree, cradled by roots. You look so peaceful that he almost feels bad about interrupting you, but he’s been bereft of your attention all day.

“You done giving me the silent treatment yet?” His voice booms above you. He tilts his head at you coyly. Hands shoved in his front pockets. 

You squint up at him from your position, startled by his arrival. You’re attempting to read your book in the grass, which isn’t half-dead yet. You don’t say anything as he sits besides you and fiddles with a clementine in his large hands. He peels the skin and feeds you a slice. 

“Wow,” Satoru scoffs, only mildly affronted. “So you’ll take my snacks but not text me back.”

“You offered,” you shrug. 

You let him kiss your neck, feather-soft as he pushes your hair to your back. You stay still and continue to read, despite his distractions. You try to blame the shiver down your spine on the cool gust of wind that passes and not Satoru’s tongue on your skin. He’s obnoxious when he indulges, especially when it comes to you.

“Are you mad at me?” he whines in your ear. Teeth on your earlobe.

“No.”

“Yes, you are,” he grins. “That’s why you’ve been ignoring me all day. What is it, baby? Wanna sit on my face about it?”

You roll your eyes, even though heat flashes in your center at his vulgar words. Satoru never took you seriously, even when you were kids. It seemed that he wasn’t going to start even now that you’re intimate together.

“Why didn’t you tell me about the party?” you ask. 

He looks at you and raises a brow, casually slipping another clementine slice into his mouth. He shrugs.

“Slipped my mind, I guess.”

“You’re hosting it, Satoru. You didn’t think to tell me?”

“I’m sorry. I just assumed you’d be there anyway since it’s at my house. It didn’t occur to me that you needed a formal invitation.”

It’s ironic. Because of all people, you would understand what it’s like to be separate from others, and he knew that. You never belonged anywhere, therefore you could never assume you were welcome. You were only at the Gojo residence because his family allowed you to be. You’re around Satoru all the time because he lets you. 

While Satoru has had his fair share of teenage hedonism, with Suguru and Shoko, you were never a part of it despite your proximity to his family. He always prefers you alone.

It stings. You wonder if he knows or if he’s just careless. You assume Satoru has never had to care about anyone other than himself, anyway. 

Unfortunately, he’s good at soothing your wounds.

You try to resist him, but it ends with you wrestling him to the ground when he tries to touch your thigh. His arms are pinned above his head and he groans when you grind against him. Already, he’s half-hard.

“Look at you,” Satoru whistles. “Brave girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me. You know how.”

You glare at him. You know that he’s taunting you to get what he wants. You also know that trying to resist him makes his dick even harder. 

He squirms in your grasp for a second, chuckling as you struggle with him. He can overpower you, easily. He’s arrogant enough to, but he’s enjoying your irritability at the moment. 

His laugh makes you tick, makes you claw at the front of his slacks and unzip them to palm his hard cock. You slide down his briefs to swirl your tongue along his slit, tasting salt.

“Jesus,” Satoru moans, surprised.

You’ve barely started, but it’s easy for you to work your hand up and down his shaft because of how wet he already is. It would fill your chest with pride if you weren’t so pissed off with him. 

You choke on his length when he bucks his hips up. He mumbles an apology when he feels your hand grip his hip. His grunts spur you on, as do his praises, the growl of his words arousing you. Satoru tries to grab a fistful of your hair but you swat him away.

“Fuck,” he groans. “I can’t believe – shit – you’re sucking me off in public. What’s gotten into you?”

“You talk too much,” you mutter, sliding him out of your mouth and replacing it with your hands. You feel him twitch in your palms. He’s writhing – a young god underneath you. For once, you feel a little powerful.

“You little slut,” he hisses. “Fucked you so many times that I’ve completely defiled you.”

“God, I might just sit on your face to get you to shut the fuck up.”

He moans at that. He could flip you over and fuck you senseless with how strong he is, but he doesn’t care to. When your mouth latches onto his cock again, he doesn’t care about anything except your tongue.

When you squeeze the base of him tightly, Satoru fucking whines.

“Fuck, fuck– I’m so close. Wait, stop–”

He pulls at your hair but you continue, sloppily lapping at him with your hot tongue, making him shudder. 

“Baby, wanna be inside you–”

Too damn bad.

You can tell how close he is because of his inability to speak. Instead, it’s heavy breaths, chest rising and falling as he grips your hair harder than before. The sound of his groans makes your cunt ache. 

“Oh, fuck–”

And then you let go of him. 

He stares at you in disbelief. Something surges inside him – a flame. It isn’t exactly anger. Perhaps something more devious. He really wants to ruin you now. 

Your mouth is red and raw. You blink at Satoru, half-expecting him to lash out. In his own way, he does, with his tongue down your throat and his hand around your neck. There’s a flash around you. When you open your eyes, you’re in his bed. 

You whine when he tugs your blouse down roughly, his teeth biting into your shoulder hard. Canines breaking skin. You’re all red for him, flushed and dripping. 

“Satoru!”

“Payback,” he mutters, before pushing you onto your side. His cock is still hard. It throbs against you as he slides it in between your thighs. He can feel you through your panties, how wet you are for him.

“I’m not mad at you for edging me,” he murmurs into your ear. He grips your hair like before, forcing your neck to stretch, all exposed for him. “Did you know I used to dream about you sucking me off outside like that? On school grounds?”

“You’re such a fucking pervert,” you rasp.

“Me?” he laughs. It feels unkind. “You’re the one who was gagging on my cock after ignoring me all day. How is that any sort of punishment?”

“Because I didn’t let you cum.” You grit your teeth.

“So mean,” he taunts. You squeal when he reaches underneath your skirt and presses a finger onto your sensitive clit, pinching. “I’ll make you cum. Might not let you stop cumming.”

He slides your panties to the side and fucks you with your back to his chest. Satoru intends to keep his promise, but he can’t exactly do that when he’s so fucking close. Your edging him had him riled up, a fever with aching limbs.

He splits you open like this. Deeper than usual, curiously, despite this being a recurrent position of yours. Satoru thinks about you ass up and face down, whining into the mattress. For now, he likes spooning you. It’s lazy and rough at the same time.

He holds out like he means to – makes you cum on his cock twice before he spills himself onto the backs of your thighs. You don’t let him kiss you once during it, your last form of protest. He settles himself by biting at your neck like a wolf taking a lamb. He eats your cunt for a while, too, licking up your sweetness down to the last drop until you’re begging him to stop.

When you both lay there in silence, Satoru thinks it’s odd how quiet you are. He thought that he fucked the attitude out of you by now, but when he turns his head to meet yours, you’re staring blankly at the ceiling.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks.

He means the sex, so you shake your head. You aren’t sure what to make of the gaping cavern inside of your chest after it, though—still feeling separate from him despite being intertwined. 

“You could do anything you wanted to me and I think I’d let you.”

He’s quiet. He hates that hearing it turns him on because this isn’t pillow talk. He isn’t sure what it is.

“You like that, don’t you?” you ask softly. You turn to face him now, your eyes dim. 

He does. He wants to possess you, hold you in the palm of his hand so no one else can. So no one else will. But he doesn’t answer you, only swallows the lump in his throat.

“I like you,” Satoru breathes. He wants to keep you. He’s selfish like that.

“I like you, too, Satoru,” you say. 

You sound almost dejected. He doesn’t pry. 

[moonstruckme]

hi mae!! how are you?

i recently burned my thigh with my iron curler and it formed a big scar. it started slowly bubbling up and i accidentally popped it like 2 days ago so now i have fresh skin open 🥲 it’s extra sensitive and i have to patch it up. and when i let the wound breath it HURTS 😭

i was wondering if you could write about this with emt!marauders? or maybe just james? idk lol whatever you feel like writing it about.

AND IF YOUVE WRITTEN ABOUT THIS ALREADY, MY BAD 😃😭

Hi lovely, I'm good! I'm really sorry this happened, it sounds awful!! Hope it's feeling a bit better by now <3

cw: severe burn (no details)

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 786 words

“I don’t think we should do this.”  

“I mean,” says James, sitting patiently opposite you on the bed, “I don’t love it either.” 

“Then let’s not,” you bargain.

 He gives you a sorry smile. “What do you think we should do instead, angel?” 

You take a deep breath. “Leave it,” you say on the exhale. “It’ll heal eventually. Or it won’t, and the bandage will become my new skin. I could be fine with that.” 

“I’m somewhat attached to your real skin.” 

“We all have to make sacrifices, James.” 

Your boyfriend gives you an amused look, but there’s worry beneath it. You feel guilty for putting him through this. It’s bad enough that he has to change your bandages for you because you’re too squeamish to do it yourself, but now you’re also making him convince you as if it were his idea. 

You blow out a long breath, tilting your face up toward the ceiling. “I can’t see it.” 

“You don’t have to,” he reassures you. “You can close your eyes, baby.”

“How bad is a little infection really?” you ask, but you’re already laying back, succumbing to the plushness of your pillow. 

“I had a dog bite get infected once,” James says, pulling your leg into his lap. Strong, gentle fingers on the underside of your thigh. “I didn’t enjoy it.” 

“You got bitten by a dog?” You turn your head to see him, but he shoots you a look and you sigh, covering your eyes with your hands. “When was that?” 

“When I was little.” One of his hands stays cradling your leg, but you feel the fingers of the other probing carefully at the edges of your bandage. Apprehension climbs up your throat, mingling with the ache of affection that’s already there. You appreciate how delicate James is with you, peeling the bandage up gingerly by one corner instead of ripping it off like some might. “It wasn’t really the dog’s fault, it was just spooked and I didn’t know enough to stay away.” 

You hiss as the bandage sticks to a tender bit of skin, and James coos an apology, stroking the unharmed skin beside it soothingly. Then the whole thing comes off, air hitting the wound and making you tense all over. 

“What happened with the bite?” Your voice is somewhat strained. 

James hesitates. “There was a lot of puss involved,” he says. “You won’t want to hear the details.” 

“Mm, thanks.” 

He chuckles. You can hear him twisting the cap off the antibiotic ointment. Your fingertips press harder into your brow bone. 

“You alright?” he asks softly. 

“Mhm. I’m ready.” 

You still gasp through your teeth when the ointment makes contact with your skin, and James grips your leg more firmly to keep you from flinching away. 

“Sorry,” he hisses, working fast as he can with gentle, caring fingers. “Sorry, baby.” 

“Not your fault,” you squeak out, keeping your own fingers pressed tightly over your eyes. “Thank you for doing this.” 

James doesn’t seem to want to accept your thanks, and you let the silence sit. When he’s done, you both sigh. 

“Thanks,” you say again. For good measure. “Couldn’t have done it without you.” 

“Definitely not,” James agrees. “I’ve no idea what we’re going to do when I’m hurt someday and neither of us can look at it.” 

You drop your hands from your eyes and sit up on your elbows, careful to look only at James and not down at your leg. It’s not hard. He’s a lovely sight, even with that sympathetic pinch to his mouth and worry tightening the muscles around his eyes. You reach for his hand, and his expression lightens. He wipes his fingertips off on his jeans before giving it to you. 

“We’ll have to call Remus,” you say, squeezing his fingers. 

A laugh startles out of him. “I thought you were going to say you’d put your squeamishness aside for me. Or that it wouldn’t be gross because you love me, or something.” 

“I would if it were true,” you reply, “but I’m afraid I won’t be much help if I’m gagging over you the entire time. I’ll hold your hand while we both don’t look, though.” 

“Mm, fair enough.” He scoots closer on the bed. His hand finds your opposite hip, rubbing a slow back-and-forth. “And you’ll distract me with kisses while I’m nursed back to health?” 

“If it’ll help.” Your voice is soft. “Though I should point out that I haven’t received any kisses.” 

Twin dimples appear on either side of James mouth as he leans over you, careful to avoid your hurt leg. “Patience, angel,” he murmurs as his lips brush yours. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

[dreamgirievii]

Instant Crush 3

Synopsis: Your families arranged for you to marry each other and boost their companies, they just didn't know you were declared enemies since childhood. Now you're living on the same roof and sharing a bed, you still have to keep up appearances for your parents so they won't suspect that you hate each other. But now after months together, you begin to feel desire for him, and you hate the thoughts that are now invading your head.

Words: 1,8k

Content: female reader, enemies to lovers, oblivious to love trope, arranged marriage, 18+.

part 1 here

part 2 here.

You stayed away from the apartment the whole day, the image of what you had done replaying on your mind like a stuck vinyl. Nothing pushed the taste of his lips away. Or the feeling of his hands bruising your hips. How you were the one who did it first. You sit on the bench near the park, stunned at your own actions, how could you have done that after saying you hated his guts? But God, how good it was, to feel his hands and his lips and the warmth of them. You could feel the slight ache from how hard he grabbed your hips.

Some part of you wanted to go back and finish what you started, but the still coherent part couldn't even move, you were embarrassed, feeling pathetic, angry. And all to yourself.

The sky was shining is the brightest and warmest rays, burning your skin in shades of red, but you couldn’t move, the dreadful feeling inside you were so intense, that all you wanted was to scratch a hole on the ground and crawl into it, and spend the rest of your days rotting. The idea of going back to that apartment you shared and facing him was… excruciating. You have sworn you would hate him forever, with all your might. So why did you kiss him like you wanted to feast on his soul?

The buzz on your phone broke your unstoppable thoughts for a while and made you read the message in an unsaved number so you knew very well who it was. “I am waiting for you, at home. We need to talk.” With a sigh you block your phone again and run a hand over your face, the sweat already accumulated from the hot day of summer. You couldn’t keep hiding forever, you have to face him someday… And if you could choose you would only meet him again in maybe 50 years from the amount of embarrassment you were feeling.

The streets were rather empty for a friday, but besides it was the heat keeping the people tucked inside their houses, above their fans and while you walked back towards your apartment you started to dwell again. What if he hates you more? If now it was the final reason and he would send you away and annul the wedding? A part of you wanted it but the growing part of you, the part that needed him desperately was dreading that thought.

It was common knowledge you two never got along, ever since you were small children you would bicker and throw insults, and that never changed as you grew older. And now after this arranged marriage you thought it would only get worse, you wanted to get worse. To hate him as you thought he hated you. But now you weren’t so sure about it. After the kiss, you were starting to come to your senses for the fact that you actually liked him… and that frightened you.

“Where were you? Why did you run away like that?” The first thing he says as you enter the apartment, Satoru was waiting impatiently for you by the front door. Walking back and forth and replaying that kiss in his mind.

You don’t reply to him at first, too overwhelmed by his presence to think of anything.

“I was… Taking a walk.”

“It’s 96 degrees outside, are you trying to get an insolation, or were you just running from me?” Satoru asks in a cocky tone, like he knew exactly why you ran, and that amused him.

You ran a hand over your forehead and wiped some sweat and looked at him with a pleading look, hoping he would drop the subject and continue with life as if nothing happened earlier. But that would be too good to be true because he says next.

“Look, I just want to talk about ‘that’. Why? Because until earlier I thought you wanted me dead. Last night I tried to convince you to let me be in your life and you practically shoved me aside. Now you kiss me?” He walks around, still shirtless for your misfortune… Or fortune, it is a pretty toned body, you thought. But then you quickly shook your head and sighed, trying to think of an answer.

“I wasn’t thinking, okay? I… I just wasn’t thinking…”

“It’s the first thought of being with me that dreadful to you?” Satoru used a sad tone, that at first you thought it’s mocking until you looked at him again.

“Maybe… Yes. We were supposed to hate each other, as until yesterday I thought we did, but after you practically begged me to let you in my life, I don't know anymore.” You paced around the living room, not wanting to look at him as you let the words out. “I made a mistake, okay? I’m sorry I shouldn't have kissed you, I wasn’t thinking.”

Satoru looked at you with gritted teeth, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you pacing around. “Wasn’t thinking? It felt like a well thought out act, by the way you did it. I don’t know why you hate me so much that the thought of returning my feelings makes you want to rip your own skin but…” What? You stopped mid pacing and looked at him with parted lips and a shocked expression. Did you hear him right? Did he just say ‘Returning my feelings’?. “What?” You ask, in a barely audible voice.

“What, what?” Satoru looks even more confused than you now.

“You said ‘Return your feelings’. You… You like me?” You asked incredulously.

“Did the conversation we had before bed ring any bells?” He scoffs.

You let your mouth hang open as you remembered yesterday's talk when you two were trying to sleep. And then everything made sense. You thought he was just pushing your buttons, you thought he still hates you just as you hated him (in theory).

“Since when?”

He sighed and walked towards you slowly “Ever since the first time I saw you. In that yellow dress with pink dots, your hair in a cute braid, I had to focus myself not to take it in my hands and play with it. I have liked you ever since that day.” He stops in front of you, brushing a strand of your hair beside your ear softly. “You captivated me ever since day one, with your bossy attitude, always telling me to do this and that, fighting me when I refused to do what you told me to.”

“I don’t get it, Satoru. Why did you pretend to hate me all this time? Why didn’t you say anything?” You ask. This can’t be true right? He likes you all this time? Even before your arranged marriage? You couldn’t wrap your mind around that, he had fought you, cursed back at you, and claimed to hate you as much as you did.

“My family has always been interested in your family business, I knew that once they put their hands on your fathers company, it would be over for your family. They’re too greedy, and I've seen what they’ve done to other companies . I couldn’t let this happen to you. And when I overheard one of their conversations, I knew what to do, to push you away so you would hate me, and eventually push your parents away from mine. And that worked until… eight months ago…” He trailed off, playing with your hair as he looked at your shoulder apparently lost in his thoughts.

Your family and Satoru’s were closed, even before you were born, you grew up with him, always in family dinners on his fancy house, until he began to pick on you, making jokes and annoying the hell out of you, so you complained to your father and soon your weren’t around him anymore. The relation between his family and yours grew colder as well, until last year when his father proposed yours for the idea of an arranged marriage to conjoin their companies and improve their sales. And that was exactly what happened. You and Satoru have been married for a few months now, at first this was your worst nightmare . You thought he would keep picking on you and playing his stupid tricks like he used to when you were younger. But that wasn’t what happened, he was respectful of you, of your space and never pushed you like he had done multiple times before. You still thought he disliked you, but were trying to be civil now, until today.

You looked at his eyes, his bright blue eyes that felt like he could see your soul, the same pair of eyes you started to grow mesmerized by. You touched his hand in your hair and dragged it to your cheek. Satoru squeezed your hand in his and leaned even closer to you.

You closed your eyes, his touch warming your heart even more, all you’ve been needing was his touch, even if you denied yourself, but having his skin against yours made you warm on the inside. “You’re so beautiful, brat.” He muttered close to your ear, his warm breath caressing your skin. You opened your eyes again and looked at him, a soft smile creeping in the corner of your lips.

Satoru smiled back at you, his eyes full of affection. He leaned in towards you, cupping both your cheeks and pressed his lips against hers in a soft, tender kiss. Your hand traveled to hold his neck and bring him closer, your chests now pressed together. Satoru hands moved to your waist, relishing the feel of your skin under his fingertips. His lips moved against your slowly, savoring the taste of you. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue gently tracing the seam of your lips and seeking entrance. You opened your lips and intertwined your tongue with his, moaning softly at the feeling. His hands roamed around your body, feeling your curves. The kiss grew more heated and passionate with each passing second. You felt like you could die right now, this is heaven, you thought. It wasn’t like the earlier kiss, no. It was so much better, no guilt, no trepidation… It was only affection and desire, and you knew he felt it too, by the way his hands traveled to grab your ass. You couldn’t help smirk as he kissed you. Maybe liking him back wasn’t so bad, maybe loving him was what you were supposed to do ever since that day he saw you in your yellow dress. And God, you wish you realized it sooner.

[kolyubov]

Say your French goodbye

✧ pairing. pm!dazai x gn!reader

✧ word count. 1k

✧ contents. angst? petnames (sweets, darling), ooc pm!dazai.

✧ author's note. hai :3 this may be written kinda weird because i'm experimenting with my writing !! hopefully it's still enjoyable <3

Dazai wishes to enjoy this moment; you lying on top of him with his arms wrapped around your form, breathing slowly against his chest, your eyelashes resting against your soft cheeks, your lips parted just slightly— he's holding back from just grabbing your face and pampering you with kisses, aching to feel that softness against his lips.

But he can't. He can't even let himself enjoy your presence, trying to warm his whole being; his soul.

It's wrong.

He knows he shouldn't be this attached to someone.

When he lets his guard down, allowing himself to enjoy the company of another human, life takes them away from his path one way or another.

It's always been like that.

—

Your couch feels much more comfortable than his bed, naturally, and your apartment seems too colorful for his eyes in comparison to the cold steel walls of the container where he “lives”.

He wonders what you'll think if you ever find out about his questionable lifestyle.

“Osamu…”

Dazai's attention is almost immediately back to you, watching as you snuggle and rub your cheek against his chest with your eyes still closed. The way his name sounds coming from your lips has his heart skipping a beat… He’s ashamed you’ll feel how pathetically it beats for the sound of your voice alone.

“Something's wrong?” He whispered, not wanting to break the small moment of peace for you. His fingers slowly ran through your hair, twirling it a little at the ends. “Ready to go to bed, darl’?”

His uncovered eye was hard on you, carefully analyzing your body language for any indication that you felt uncomfortable.

“You're pretty silent… Is something wrong?” You ask, and Dazai doesn't answer your question, only letting his head fall back against one of your couch's pillows; his lips part for a moment, and just as he is about to speak, he closes them again.

All of this is wrong…

He knows someday you'll be ripped off his life, he can't avoid that fate that awaits him, but Dazai is more afraid of you ending up hurt because of his fault. Considering his position as an executive of the Port Mafia, many could use you in order to threaten him.

For your own good, he should let you live a quiet life.

Dazai places his hands on your waist, firmly pushing you off him to lie on his side instead, “Sweets, it's kinda late. Why don't you go to sleep, yeah?”

When he briefly glanced at your expression, you were facing him with a pout on those lips that he couldn't take his eyes away from.

“Why don't you stay? You can sleep here, on the couch, or if you're comfortable enough, maybe in my bed!” There was no hidden meaning behind those words, you really wished for him to take a rest for once, “We can even have a slumber party!”

“Ehhh… I don't have any pajamas and sleeping in a suit is…” He trails off as your hand reaches out for his arm, but he’s already pulling away and sitting on the edge of the couch, not facing you.

“I'll lend you my clothes! I have some oversized pieces that could fit you.”

Dazai rolled his eyes, amused by your attempts to make him stay. He didn’t want to keep inventing more excuses in order to avoid staying, but knowing how stubborn you were, being honest won't work either— If anything, it'll be much harder for him to leave that way.

When he was just about to get up, ready to leave and maybe disappear forever before fucking up your life, your arms wrapped around his waist from behind, trapping him with you.

“Please, stay…” You murmur against his back. The softness of your plea has him biting his lower lip anxiously as a storm builds up inside his head. He is a heartless mafia executive, so why's it so easy for you to grip his frozen heart and melt his resistance away?

Dazai's hands rest above yours, kindly trying to push them away, but your grip was strong— He wouldn't want to use too much force accidentally. The last thing he wishes to do is hurt you.

“Darling, I'm busy. You know how the mafia works. Can you take those cute hands away and let me go?” Seeing no answer from you, he gave your hands a few pats, “C'mon, or do you want Chuuya to punch my face for being late again?”

With that, he felt your grip soften, leaving him the opportunity to stand up from your couch. When he turns around to face you, a small chuckle escapes him at the sight of your defeated pout.

“Will you come tomorrow too…?”

Dazai purses his lips and looks away. Conflicted.

Both his mind and heart were arguing whether to stay and appreciate these moments with you before everything comes to an end or be selfish, spend more time with you, and put your life in danger for being in a relationship with a mafioso.

His presence is nothing but an inconvenience.

Maybe he wasn't meant to love, maybe he was never meant to care for another human being, at least in the way you cared so sweetly for him. He doesn't get along with most people after all.

“…Sure.” He replies, his voice soft as a hand reaches for your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin for a few seconds, enjoying the lasting moments.

Before he could leave, you pull him for a hug that leaves him stunned. Everything stops; his breathing, his heart, his mind— All because of your sudden display of affection. A hug was something he wasn't used to. It took him a while until his arms wrapped around your body, letting you melt against him.

No words were coming from any of you, just calm breathing and small caresses over each other's back in your dimly lit living room. The embrace lasted for a few minutes until you pulled away. Your eyes meet his, trying to see through him, wishing you could just tell him everything your heart yearns for.

“Take care, Osamu…”

Dazai gave you one last small smile, squeezing your hand in his hand before walking away, opening the door of your apartment, not glancing back, as he disappeared in the dark.

Maybe, one day, he'll figure out how to make his life less miserable; someday, he could let himself enjoy your presence without fearing the consequences of his existence.

Maybe one day he'll change.

© 2024 kolyubov — Do not copy, repost, or recommend my works on other platforms. reblogs are welcomed and appreciated!

[moonbyulsstuff]

hello could you do a Jaegyeon Na who is in love with female!reader who is Seongji's ex girlfriend, she sometimes seems to still believe that Seongji is alive and as soon as she remembers his death she gets depressed, and she is a mother figure to VinJin and Mary

I'll Be Here...

Female Reader.

Requested.

Masterlist.

Request Rules.

"Jaegyeon.." He turned around and looked at Taesoo, all Kings were gathered here today in Cheonliang to honor the memory of Seongji Yuk. Jaegyeon tilted his head. "What?" Jaegyeon asked, adjusting his stance while staring at the Ansan King. "About Seongji... are you still taking care of his girl?" Taesoo said which caused the air between the two to froze and thicken at the tension.

Almost in the Kings knew that Jaegyeon had almost been taking care of [Name] ever since the news that Seongji killed himself.

It took a toll on her and she was never the same after his death, basically shutting herself out of the world and moved out of Cheonliang after Jaegyeon gave her an offer that she can stay at his place.

And was inspired by Vin Jin and Mary who wanted to get out of Cheonliang as they were sick of the place.

"Yeah.." Jaegyeon said as he looked over the view of the town, Taesoo chuckled. "You're a total simp." He teased as Jaegyeon looked at him with a glare on his face, Taesoo smacked his back. "You know she's still in love with Seongji, so why did you bother?" Taesoo asked which made the blonde go quiet at his question.

It was true, he knew [Name] was still in love with Seongji and hoping that he was still alive someday.

But he can't help it, he's absolutely smitten with her. The moment when he first saw [Name], Jaegyeon fell in love at first sight but he backed off when he find out she was Seongji girlfriend.

And he was more of a idiot to quickly offer her to stay at his place with the hopes that maybe she'll fall in love with him, but that was an idiots wish.

What did he think was going to happen? [Name] loved Seongji dearly, more than anything. And days, weeks, months and years go by. Jaegyeon can still see in her eyes is still in love with Seongji.

But he can't pull away, he can't leave her alone. Even if his heart will ache and break, he'll still offer his comfort to her anytime.

"[Name]... I brought food..." Jaegyeon called out as he arrived back at his apartment, he saw [Name] sitting by the couch watching the TV with red eyes and red nose. He knew that she was probably crying before he arrived.

He sighed and walked up to her, sitting down beside her, putting the bag of takeout in the coffee table. They sat in silence as they watched the TV, Jaegyeon averted his eyes at her.

"Have you eaten yet?" "No..." Her voice was raspy and meek, he took the takeout and opened the box and handed her the takeout. "Your favorite..." [Name] looked at the food he was offering, she gingerly took the box and began to eat it slowly.

They sat in silence once more, only the sound of the TV and [Name] chewing her food. Jaegyeon began to think more of Taesoo question, he was right. Why did he do it when he knows there's no place at [Name] heart anymore? Why does he bother when he's only getting to get his heart broken? He took a glance at her, her red face, swollen eyes, everything about her just made him melt and break at the same time.

He never felt this way about anyone ever and he didn't want to let it go at the same time, Jaegyeon wanted to be the man that [Name] lean to. Find comfort in, even if he wasn't the one in her heart.

Jaegyeon would rather see her be happy than be sad, he would let his heart be broken over and over again just to see her smile.

"Jaegyeon..." [Name] called out, as she put the takeout back in the coffee table. The box was empty, he hummed and looked at her. "What is it?" He asked, leaning against his couch.

"Why... why did you let me stay with you..?" She asked, looking at him with those eyes, he gulped and sighed. He didn't want to let her know the truth, but he knows she deserve the truth at the same time. Jaegyeon didn't want to let her think that he was taking advantage of her vulnerable state to make her fall in love with him.

He didn't want to let her think that way.

Jaegyeon chuckled, ruffling her face with a smile. "Because you're the partner of my dear old friend.." Jaegyeon said, [Name] tilted her head while staring at him. "I know he'd rather see you be happy than moping around, so. I'll make you, you'll always have a smile on your face."

[Name] looked thankful for Jaegyeon which made her smile, his heart softened seeing her smile once more. "I... I appreciate that... really..." [Name] said, Jaegyeon smiled as he ruffled her hair once more.

"No problem, I know this is what he would have wanted... so, I'll always be here for you..." She chuckled and looked back at the TV as his gaze lingered on her.

'If only you knew, how much I love you...'