#so I can feel like I'm doing something but I'm maybe less messy on the dash lmaoooo

[byanyan]

writes one tiny thing and fucks back off

[luvyeni]

HOT MESS ,, 이제노

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ collegecrush!jeno x reader wc. 2.4k

genre. smut

🦢◞  includes ... oral ( fem receiving ), unprotected sex, praise kink , this is kinda angsty.

request. can u write a "campus crush" fic based on jeno's look at the airport please 🙏🩷

「 authors note 𖹭 」 ngl i didn't expect it to be so angsty but reader literally is me and my brain.

❪ masterlist! ❫

your brain was always on go; constantly it was like it never stopped, even when you would sleep it was like your brain wouldn't turn off— it was never ending, and becoming a college student; living on your own made it worse.

running into your class; the professors back was turned around so you snuck in , sitting down. “you're late again.” yoo jimin, your best friend; the complete opposite of you; she was constantly put together, it was like she had everything together. “i stayed up last night to study.” you whispered, huffing out pulling out your ipad, hair all over the place. “how did it go?” you stared at her stoically. “how do you think?” you said. “point taken.” she said.

“maybe you have like adhd or something.” karina walked next to you; watching you go through your messy planner. “because this can't be normal.” she said. “im sure the doctor has something to cure whatever this was.” you shrugged. “with my luck i would probably be too busy and forget to take it.” she laughed. “probably, you're just a hot mess and that's okay, i still love you anyway.” she wrapped her arms around you, calming you. “messy hair and disheveled clothes that i'm pretty sure you had on yesterday and all.”

jeno on the the hand; he seemed to have his life together— he never came to school looking crazy; even after a night out in which he was black out drunk with his group of friends, he'd turn up the next day, showered, shaven and ready to go on with his date. “it almost scary why aren't you hungover.”

haechan groaned, his head down low. “you out drunk me yesterday; jaemin left you in your dorm unable to pick yourself off the floor.” jeno smugly shrugged, his hair black hair was neatly styled, his outfit that he picked that morning neat on his body.. “i feel fine, maybe you should lay off the alcohol.” the boy would've lunged at the boy if he didn't feel like his head was gonna explode. “haechan look you and yn both look like you had a good time last night.”

jeno turned hearing your name, a small smile on his lips, one no one couldn't unless they were looking really close. “fuck off jaemin.” you huffed sitting down. “except yn looks like that all the time.” haechan said, yelling as you began bang on the metal table. “how's that headache? huh you asshole.” jeno held his hand out , stopping you. “you'll hurt yourself.”

he moved his hand away from you; that didn't really help your rapidly beating heart. along with the stress of school and your everyday life; jeno lee was another thing that raced throughout your already cluttered mind; he sometimes was the only thing that could calm your messy mind— not like he noticed or anything.

“she’ll hurt herself— she hurt me!” haechan cried out. “my head.” holding his head in his hands. “jimin hold me.” you all watched karina fight the whining boy off, you laughter making jeno smile slightly, only stopping when jaemin caught him; wiggling his eyebrows at the boy, jaemin was the only one who knew about his crush on the girl.

“you should ask her out.” jaemin said one day out of the blue. “yn, you should ask her out.” jeno was shocked; he thought he did a good job hiding his infatuation with you. “haechan isn't all the way there and renjun could care less, so of course they don't notice, but bro i'm your best friend , and i can tell , and you don't really hide , you literally write the notes down so she can study.” ever since that day, jaemin never let him live it down.

“yn you have a class soon.” jeno turned to you as you looked down at your phone. “oh yeah i better go.” you shot up. “my professor is gonna kill me if im late again.” you collected your things. “jeno don't you have this class too?” renjun asked, he nodded; calmly getting up, saying goodbye to everyone, before walking away; but walking slowly so you'd be able to catch up to him.

you both made it to the class, you found your seat in the back; jeno took a seat in the front like always, occasionally looking back to check on you— he felt bad, watching you stress out all the time, you could never seem to get anything right in your eyes; but in his eyes you were perfect.

“yn.” your professor stopped you as you were leaving out the door. “yes?” you stopped. “your research paper.” she started. “is there something wrong with it?” you sighed, she didn't have to say anything, but you knew. “listen what if i give you an extra day or two, go over it; read my notes and try again.” she said, you nodded. “thank you ma'am.” you turned walking out of the class, where jeno was waiting. “oh jeno you're still here?”

while waiting for you, jeno overheard your conversation with the professor. “yeah, everything okay?” you nodded. “just need to go home and get my head together so i can get this essay right this time.” he walked silently next to you, before he spoke up. “i can help you.” he said. “go over the essay with you.”

“y-you don't have to, it's all word vomit i don't want to put you through that.” he waved you off. “i don't mind it.” you were about to reject him again when he grabbed your arm, stopping you. “let me help you.” your eyes widened at the sudden touch. “sorry.” he said, removing his hand. “it-its okay.” you said, heart racing. “i can come over to your apartment and go over it with you.” he said. “and it won't be a problem?” he shook your head. “you'll never be a problem, okay?” you nodded. “o-okay.”

“come on let's go.”

it had been so long since you had anyone over besides karina and she was used to your madness; but it had been even longer since you had a cute guy over, and you weren't really planning on having one over— otherwise you would have cleaned your room. “it's a little messy.”

“it's okay, it's just clothes.” he smiled watching you frantically pick up the clothes, shoving them in your closet. “sit.” you pointed to your bed. “please, make yourself comfortable.” you said. “um …” you turned to jeno, your face losing all color— he was holding your bra in his hand. “did you forget something?”

you practically lunged at the boy to grab the item, throwing it into your closet. “let's get started.” you said; he smiled watching you go through your bag to pull out your laptop. “here.” you opened it, pulling up the essay. he took the laptop from your hands, your fingertips touching. “let's see, it can't be that bad.”

it was bad; but jeno didn't let you know that— well he tried. “um, okay.” he said, you frowned. “it's bad isn't it?” he sighed, reading through the essay, looking at you; your eyes were desperate. “i can help you fix it.” he said, you sighed. “it's useless.” taking away the laptop. “if only i can get my brain to stop just for a second , my essays won't be so shit.”

you hated this; your brain wouldn't stop, it was overwhelming. “hey.” jeno called your name, you bit at your nails in stress. “hey.” he stopped you, holding your hands down. “calm down , i told you i'll help you wouldn't i?” he said. “i’ve seen worse essays trust me, jaemin will plagiarize if i let him.” he laughed. “i can help you fix this, but you have to calm down first.” your eyes traveled to where your hands met. “you're so cute but you're a hot mess.”

“me-me? cute.” he chuckled; but you were freaking out inside and out, he shook his head, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge. “let's finish this okay?” you nodded. “o-okay.”

after going over the mess of a essay; reading the notes the teacher gave you and jeno talking you through it; you finally put together an essay that was at least readable and would satisfy your professor. “thank you so much jeno, you saved my life.” you smiled. “it was all you, you'll do good if you just turn that pretty little head off and learn to breathe.”

“that's easy for you to say, your life is so put together.” you said. “i can barely get out of bed on time, it's like you said im a hot mess.”

“you don't want to hear my problems.” you said. “the essay is done and you probably have things to do, you can … mph” before you could get the rest out; jenos lips were on yours in feverish kiss, pulling away to give you enough air before his lips were on yours again.

he pulled away again, ready to kiss you again, but you held his chest signaling him to stop immediately. “did i make you uncomfortable?” he said. “no-no.” you said flustered. “just, it happened so fast, and now my head and my heart is racing.” you were rambling on and on and it made jeno want to kiss you again, you were so cute. “then just turn that pretty head off and let me help you.” he looked at you with so much want in his eyes. “okay?”

you nodded, he held the side of your face, pulling you into another kiss; his lips swiping across your bottom lip, sticking his tongue in your mouth , his grip on your waist, lifting your shirt. “lifting your arms for me pretty.” he took your shirt off , throwing it to the floor. “he-hey just because i use my floor as a hamper doesn't mean you do.”

he laughed, “i'll be sure to fold your clothes neatly the next time i fuck you.” he pulled your pants down, leaving you in your mismatched bra and panties. “baby you really are a hot mess aren't you.” he kissed your stomach once he laid you on your back. “i like that.” he reached for your waistband, pulling them down your leg. “keep them open pretty baby.” he kissed the sides of your thighs. “such a pretty little pussy.”

you felt the warmth of his lips as he kissed your cunt. “j-jeno.” it had been a while since you've felt anything like this, and lord was jeno good at what he was doing , licking your folds , his nose brushing up against your clit, for the first time in a very long time; there was only one thing on your mind— it was jeno.

“fuck jeno!” you moaned, gripping his dark locks. “im… im gonna cum.” you whined feeling him removing his lips for your clit , one of his fingers invading your hole. “you gonna cum for me?” you nodded, he groaned , his cock hard; he was ready to fuck you. “y-yes.” you gasped. “pl-please let me cum.”

“shit.” he cursed, adding another finger, curling them inside you. “so tight baby, go ahead and let go for me, make a mess all over my fingers for me.” you gasped out his name , moaning as you came. “good fucking girl.” he fingered you through your orgasm, until you were holding his wrist , grinding against it. “je-jeno.” he no longer looked put together; his hair messy, clothes disheveled— even his brain was running a mile a minute, he finally knew what it was always like in your head. “you look so pretty when you are cumming.”

ridding himself of his clothes; folding your legs in half, giving him a view of your cunt. “pretty little pussy, want me to stuff my fat cock inside?” slotting his cock in between your folds; moving his hips, the tip of his cock catching your clit , both of you moaning. “pl-please fuck me.” you begged. “shh , baby i got you.”

positioning his leaky tip at your entrance, slipping inside. “fuck.” he sighed, your cunt sucking him in. “so tight.” he gasped as he fully bottomed out. “je-jeno you're so big.” you moaned out; his hand coming up to your throat. “yeah, you like my cock stretching your tiny pussy?” he hissed as you tightened around him, your eyes crossed as he plowed into you. “did i fuck you're pretty head empty?” he questioned, a moan following. “had so much fuck so much going on inside it , now it's nothing but my cock.”

he tightened his grip around your throat; speeding up his thrust. “de-deeper jeno, fuck!” the desperation in your voice , you needed to feel him; the deeper he went , the tighter his hand wrapped around your throat— the less you thought about anything, all your troubles floated away. “je-jeno im gonna cum.”

“yeah?” he speed up, cursing as he chased his orgasm. “hold it just a little baby, fuck , wanna cum with you.” his forehead was pressed against his. “i-i can't , jeno im gonna cum.” you gasped , your fingernails digging into his arms. “ugh , fuck!” he cursed , rubbing your clit. “fuck i'm gonna cum , cum for me pretty baby.”

he made direct eye contact with you as you came , cunt gripping him like a vice. “shit!” he pulled out , roughly stroking his cock as he came, his warm seed splashing on your stomach. “fuck fuck fuck.” he squeezed his base , milking himself, groaning. “shit.”

“you want another?” he toyed with your clit. “your little clit is still desperate for my attention.” you moaned , his finger filling you up. “je-jeno.” your glazed over eyes. “your pretty little mind is floating somewhere else isn't it?” he chuckled. “fucked you too dumb?” you gasped , moving your hips, grinding against his hand. “go ahead, cum for me again, pretty.”

you felt like you were floating; mind empty as you came down from second high. “come back to me, pretty girl.” he coached you back down , a smile on his face. “good girl.” he removed his fingers from your cunt. “you did so good for me.”

“something on your mind?” jeno asked as he watched you pick at your nail beds for five minutes. “there's always something on my mind.” you laughed , about to bite your nails , he grabbed your hand, holding your hand down , rubbing your knuckles. “not when you're occupied.” he smirked , you slapped his naked chest. “it's not that.” you said. “it's you.” he tilted his head. “what do you mean?” you shrugged. “you can tell me.” he said, you sighed.

“when you're around you help me not think, you calm me.” you confessed. “so what you're saying you're a hot mess without me?” you pouted. “why are you making fun of me?” you whined , he laughed , wrapping his arms around your body. “thats fine with me.” he kissed your forehead. “you're a hot mess.”

“but you're my hot mess.”

©LUVYENI

[daenysx]

Hii can you write where james and reader are both the only virgins in the group so decided to do it together to get it over with but then they started to do it more often bcs james is absolutely obsessed with her.

thank you for requesting, i hope you like this! requests are open!!

james potter x fem!reader, nsfw

becoming experts

james thinks maybe he should be embarrassed.

here he is, knocking on your door, standing at your doorstep with your favorite dessert in his hand. this is the third time in this week, and it won't be the last. he fixes his posture, puts a little smile on his face, and knocks on your door again. he is fine.

you open the door, wearing only your sleep shorts and a little tank top, which is both a blessing and a curse for james's poor heart. your hair seems a little messy, your face without any make up, and you look beautiful. your lips curve upwards when you see james at your doorstep, you are quick to pull him inside.

"hi, sweetheart." james says as he steps inside. "i hope this is not a bad time."

you look at him like he's said the silliest thing in the world. "come on, jamie, you know there's no such a thing as bad time for you."

"yeah, yeah, i'm glad." why is he acting so out of character? suddenly he's shy, blushing when you point at his hand.

"is that for me?" you ask, kind of shy but more comfortable than him.

he nods. "of course, there you go."

he gives you the box and you take it with a huge smile on your face. "thank you!"

james's heart takes a leap.

you lead him inside, your little living room looks cozy with all those blankets spread on your couch and the warm air covering the room. you take the dessert with two spoons, sitting on the couch and inviting james next to you. he takes off his jacket and kicks his shoes, sits next to you, hoping to be less awkward in the next moments of this act.

"would you like something to drink?" you ask.

james shakes his head. "no, maybe later."

you nod, taking a spoonful of your dessert. "this is perfect. literally the best thing in the world, thank you so much."

james laughs. "you're welcome, angel."

you look at his unused spoon. "why don't you eat?"

he doesn't know. his mouth is dry, he should get a grip on himself. "i'm-"

your lips look perfect around that spoon.

"you've got chocolate- here." he leans into your space slowly.

you smile, his fingers cup your cheek. "this is so cliche."

"you think so?" he whispers.

"you know," you begin. "if you want to kiss me, all you have to do is ask."

james leans back on the couch, suddenly free of shyness to jump on the opportunity. "what if i want more than just a kiss?"

"i'm sure we can do something about that." you take another spoon of chocolate sauce.

"oh, baby." james says, pulling you to his lap. "come here."

your hands are empty, you move quickly to him. your legs are on each side of his thighs and you sit gently. "how do you feel?" he asks, holding your hands.

"i'm fine. really, really good."

"you sound unnaturally teasing. i thought that was supposed to be me."

you shrug. "i don't know, you act weird today. it's not like this is the first time we're being this close."

the best night of james's life was probably the night he'd spend at your apartment, in your bed. you were naked, so was he, the wine was kicking like a liquid courage as you had sex for the first time. you could expect weirdness between you two, you were both each other's first time and you had been friends for years, but it never happened. it felt so good and so right, james lost himself between your legs and you made sounds that you've never made before.

you were both inexperienced, subject of sirius's little teasings and remus's sympathetic looks when it comes to stuff about sex. you don't know how did things happened as they have that night, but suddenly you were kissing james. you could be afraid if this would ruin your friendship but at that moment everything was so good, you could never imagine the act could ever feel like this.

since that night, james had been to your apartment once more. he was just trying to make sure everything's okay between you and your friendship still stands. then, he was taking off his clothes and you were leaning towards him. you took his cock in your mouth for the first time and james forgot everything except your name.

now, here you are, trying to balance yourself on james's lap, keeping yourself still to not press against him. "james," you say. "it's okay. i- i want you too."

james throws his head back, his hands still holding yours. he looks at you through his glasses and smiles. "i just want you to feel good."

"i'm always feeling good when i'm with you." you say, honestly. "i think we fit each other really well and i- i want it, with you."

"yeah?" james pulls you closer. "you want it, pretty girl?"

you nod. james continues. "i guess we've got addicted." he says like it's a secret. "but that's okay. we can keep going as long as you're good with it."

you start the kiss and james exhales, finally. he cups your cheeks, angles your neck to deepen the kiss. you taste sweet, he licks the chocolate left on your lips. you whimper quietly, feeling him harden under you. this is good, you think. this is so perfect, it doesn't feel any wrong.

james's hands go to your back and he rubs your skin affectionally. he breaks the kiss to brush his lips on your pulse point. you take a breath, holding onto his shoulders. "james." you say. "i wanna go to bed."

he obliges, lifts you easily, and carries you to your bedroom. he is gentle when he puts you on bed, you are quick to take off your clothes. you are not shy to be naked around him, he makes you feel safe. you throw your clothes somewhere on the floor and settle down on bed, watching james.

he looks at you, eyes focused, and mouth slightly open. is he dreaming? this surely is better than any dream, you are lovely as you lay there and wait for him.

he doesn't intend to tease you or make you wait. you've been so honest and sweet with him, you deserve to get what you want. james makes a quick work of his clothes, leaving everything on the floor until he is bare in front of you. he gets on his knees on bed and reaches you. you part your legs obediently, without expecting a word from him.

"you're so pretty, sweetheart." james says, fondly. "you know that, right?"

you squirm under his hands. "jamie, please."

"you should know that." he says, kisses your chest. "you should be aware of the power you have on me."

you shake your head. "it's mutual, and you're being silly."

"let me be romantic for a second, yeah?" he kisses your perked nipple. "fuck, gonna give you everything you want."

"please." you say, losing your breath when he sucks your nipple. he likes using his mouth on you, you realize. he slowly goes down on your body and you laugh when he kisses below your belly button.

"tickles?" he asks, ever so playful.

you nod. "will you do it again?"

he answers by kissing the same spot over and over, turns you into a mess under his mouth. his fingers are quick to touch your cunt, he collects the wetness that starts pooling and rubs it all over. "will you let me taste you?" he asks, begging for a yes. "i wonder if you taste so sweet everywhere."

"you- i guess you can, if you want." you arch your back, subtly press your cunt against his mouth.

"if i want? i'm dying for it."

he buries his face between your legs, tries to get directing noises out of you. he's not experienced but he finds himself to be a quick learner when it comes to you. he licks the wetness out of you and pushes his tongue inside. you wrap your legs around his neck, the sensation is so strange but suddenly it starts feeling good. you remember the second time you had sex and how you felt insatiable to take his cock in your mouth. he must feel that way right now, you think, because he never stops making those wild noises as he uses his mouth.

james sucks your clit relentlessly. you whimper, his name becomes a song. he grips your thighs and holds you in your place. "james- so close- so clo- hmm-"

he lifts his head just for a second. "come for me, lovely girl. let go for me, this is perfect."

you obey, arch your back as he sucks again, and you're dripping in his mouth. james keeps licking, helps you through your peak. you feel so tired, so exhausted, so naked, and it's good. james keeps you steady, his cock twitches at the sight of your cunt, all swollen and licked.

"are you okay, baby?" he coos. "we can stop."

you shake your head. you can't stop because he's addictive. "i want you inside." there's no crumb of shyness left. "please, i want it."

james angles you to be more comfortable, he rubs the skin of your thigh. "gotta be slow, okay?" he says.

you nod, messy and desperate. "however you want."

he positions his cock in just the right way. he is being slow and quiet as he keeps pushing, he knows it's a tight fit. when you clench around him he can't help himself, he goes a little fast. "oh, angel." he whispers, mouth closed on your neck. he pushes himself again. "so tight, just like the first time i got you like this. you're gonna make me come soon if you squeeze around me like that."

you part your legs a little more, holding onto his broad shoulders. "i like this so much. so full, jamie."

james starts moving inside you, still careful but easier. you try to move your hips accordingly, it's like a new dance both of you are trying to learn better. he is worried he'll come too soon, because you're being irresistable.

"can you touch me- right, right there?" you ask, position his fingers on your clit.

"yeah, yeah, of course."

his fingers play with you until you start begging for him to come. he keeps pushing himself until he can't see straight anymore. "can i come? james, can i come again?" you melt, so close and so wet, you can hear the wetness pooling on bed.

"yes, come on, sweet thing." he pushes the deepest he's ever been, you clench so hard, he starts coming. "come with me."

you are sure you lose your sight for a second. james explodes on your belly, his strength helps him pull himself back before coming inside you but he keeps playing with your clit so you clench around him and nothing as you come. you see him, you see stars, you feel so sensitive. james groans as he holds his cock to let out every drop of his cum. he exhales your name, desperate to lay down with you on the bed. you are quick to pull him on your chest, he puts his head on your body, and listens your heartbeat.

minutes pass in silence as you both catch your breaths. james rubs your skin with gentle fingers. you stroke his curls, and press a kiss on his forehead.

"i think we're getting pretty good at this." you say, smiling.

"yeah, i guess we are quite the experts of sex now." he says. "can you imagine sirius's reaction?"

"oh, he'd probably never believe it." you say. "but that's fine."

james sits on bed. "would you like to have shower? we've made quite the mess of each other."

you nod, reach for his hand as you sit next to him. "jamie," you begin, "there's no one else that i'd rather do this with. you're- you're the only one for me."

james smiles, kisses your forehead lovingly. "i'd hope so, sweetness." he gives your hand a squeeze. "you're the only one for me, as well."

♡

(you can check here to find out about sirius and remus's reactions lovelies.)

[cinhomi]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: best friend Han Jisung x fem reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: there's a thunderstorm outside and you don't have an umbrella. luck wants that you're near you best friend's apartment complex and you decide to wait for the rain to stop and your clothes to dry while watching a movie with him... but things escalate after the tension between you two finally snaps.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, smut, friends to lovers

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: play-fighting, swearing, soft dom Jisung, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, no protection (boo-hoo), multiple orgasms, creampie, messy making out, hint of slight choking, dry humping, tiny bit of possessiveness, praise, dirty talk, slight manhandling, overstimulation, spitting.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.8K

I don't know if anyone can tell but I'm actually in love with this man

The sound of the doorbell ringing resonated in your ears, feeling already relaxed by the familiar pattern of the short melody. The veins of the wooden door too, you knew them by heart, and istantly felt less tense by looking at them: you were soaked from head to toe and were feeling kind of dumb standing by his apartment in your state, cold and shaking, but you knew you'd be welcomed and he would take care of you no matter what. You heard hurrying footsteps approaching the entrance and in a second the shining smile of your best friend appeared in front of you, just to drop one second after.

"Oh my god baby, are you okay?"

Baby, he always called you that but every single time your belly tingled as if it was the first. Was it necessary? Not really, but you didn't want to stop him from saying that. It was so sweet and intimate and you enjoyed it when your cheeks would start to feel warm because of the petname (a bit too much maybe).

He gently wrapped his hand around your arm and pulled you inside his apartment, leaving you at the entrance for a second, running away just to come back with a towel.

"Were you outside? Didn't you bring an umbrella? Aaah you're so dumb sometimes..." he didn't even wait for your reply, he just threw the cloth over your head and started rubbing it gently to dry your hair just a little bit.

"I was doing some errands around here and I decided to walk instead of taking the bus, but it suddenly started raining like, heavily, and I wasn't able to search for a place to run into... so I just accepted my destiny and took a stroll until I came here" you sighed, dramatically taking a hand to your forehead and closing your eyes, not really able to hide the growing smile on your face when you heard him chukle and gently caress your face to take away the remaining droplets of water. He lowered down until his eyes met yours, then he tilted his head to the side as his gaze softened.

"You dummy... hope you didn't catch a cold or I'll be the one that will have to take care of you y'know!?" he started to take off your jacket, his hands lingering on your arms with his soft touch, then putting aside your shoes before placing the same towel on the floor for you to step on it. "Now, go take a shower and I'll search for something to give you while I wash your stuff, okay baby?"

At your nod he went ahead and with his finger he gestured you to follow him through your giggles, while the warmth in your belly started spreading even more hot than before. He made you feel so loved and special, always a priority, and you cherished little moments like these, it filled your heart with joy being in his presence... and for him it was the same, you both knew.

"Leave your clothes outside the door angel, I'll pick them up later" he said, before giving you a kiss on your forehead and handing you what he chose for you to wear.

"I'll wait in my bedroom with a movie ready to watch～" a wink and he turned around, his shoulders seeming a little more broad and muscular... did he start to go to the gym again? The terrible heating of your face crept under your skin again by the thought of him doing his excercise routine. You saw him once when you tried to do it together, all sweaty and panting and eyes half closed, that time you nearly planted your face on the cute light blue-flowery-patterned mat he gifted you with lewd thoughts racing in your head during your thirty seconds plank.

The question accompanied you in the shower anyway, where you couldn't really think about anything else but how much love you felt for him and how you were desperate for him to know already.

All your friends encouraged you to get together but you never understood if Jisung's reaction was positive or negative whenever they teased you two.

And you knew you've always loved him, you became his friend just to get close to him after all, but things escalated and you were never really able to escape the situation and just confess, so you kind of went along with it until you decided not to risk ruining everything.

Because you had something really special going on, connected on a deep level. It was like you two had your own little world, where you were comfortable and safe in each other's presence.

Your thoughts went by as you finished showering, finally putting on his clothes, heart reacing when you saw your reflection on the big mirror in his bathroom. Hair still wet falling flat on your head you quetly stepped into his room in the dim light, the screen of his laptop flashing his face with different colors as he was still searching for the right movie to watch.

Jisung saw you with the corner of his eye, so he lifted his gaze not really expecting the sight that was waiting for him.

If only you knew how excited he was while searching in his wardrobe for some of his clothes for you. It wasn't the first time, no, but it always made him feel giddy and soft.

This time though, he couldn't predict that familiar and quite scandalous sensation in his lower abdomen to appear.

Jisung hated himself in these situations. You were there, looking perfect, innocent, angelic, and he was only looking at the quite accentuated tug of your nipples through your favorite shirt of his; how your sexy curves were hidden by the oversized article of clothing leaving his immagination wilding, how his damn boxers weren't even visible on you so your legs appeared naked in front of him, his brain much more quicker than his sense of shame and imagining how would it be if you weren't wearing anything at all under there.

He was already about to explode when he picked up your cute panties and bra to wash. His favorite color, little lace details decorating them, so simple yet so tempting he had to palm himself to find some relief. But now...

"Sungie you okay?" suddenly you were beside him, kneeling on the bed and scooting closer to him, the cutted collar of the shirt hanging low due to the lazy movements you were making, exposing your collarbones. Jisung had to swallow and blink twice before processing everything that was happening.

"Oh, yeah, totally fine y/n. Come here..."

He lifted his toned arm and delicately took you closer, and without putting too much thought into it, you placed one leg over his lap, snuggling onto his chest that was heavily lifting and dropping all of a sudden.

"You look amazing with my clothes, you know that? So swag" he smiled, trying to concentrate elsewhere that wasn't the ache he felt whenever he accidentally let his fantasies about you take control of his thoughs. But how could he refrain himself when he got to see you get flustered like crazy? It was so satisfying, but frustrating at the same time because he didn't know if he would ever be able to go further with you, like he always wanted. He hated being your friend, because since day one he wanted to be a partner to you, and he lost his chance many times in the past so he also lost hope for something romantically serious between you two.

"Ji, nobody says 'swag' anymore... gosh you're so old" you rolled your eyes in fake annoyance, and he gasped, disdain showing on his face as his free hand took place on his chest, near his heart.

"I'm offended. Make it up to me now, immediately in this right moment or I'll make you regret it"

A challenging gaze was now plastered on his stupidly beautiful face, all the extra acting dissipating from him. Who were you to back up? But truth was that you absolutely couldn't say "no" to him nor fight him too much: it was just a matter of time before he would have you under his control, always, so you just didn't see a point in denying that anymore.

"What do you want?" your tone was firm, unamused as you straightened your back and faced him properly.

"You have to let me kiss your ugly face whenever I want for the rest of the night"

You squeezed your eyes shut just to open them again and see him with a serious expression.

"It's only fair" he adjusted an immaginary pair of glasses on the bridge of his nose and puckered his lips while his brows raised, gaining a light slap on his chest from you while you started laughing.

You loved this about him, how he could make you smile and feel good effortlessly.

"Alright... everything for you Jisung"

Your voice was soft now, and despite the fun atmosphere your words were very serious. Jisung didn't stop looking into your eyes, not even for a second while your lips moved and pronounced his name that way. Only you did this to him. He couldn't help but imagine how you would sound if he made you feel good, use his tongue on you, his fingers and more...

You on your part were now feeling the weight of his arm wrapped around you and his hand hanging loosely over your shoulder, his fingers brushing the skin of your neck, goosebumps raising from your back.

Jisung finally detached from your stare and returned his attention to the screen positioned in front of him. "I thought this movie would be alright. I'm not sure about it but while I was looking for other things it kept popping up so I guess it's a sign. You okay with this?"

He was always so considerate of your opinion, on everything, and that made you feel heard and validated. So sweet, so rare of someone to be so fond of what you think.

"Mhmh" you nodded, leaning your head on his chest as he pressed 'play'.

The movie wasn't that interesting, not that one of you cared though. You and Jisung were teasing and annoying each other while the dialogues and the music (lowered few minutes before) served just as a background noise. Much louder was the sound of the rain and the thunders outside, and you smiled remembering yourself few hours before, all alone walking in the rain.

But now you were in the arms of a person you adored, all cozy and comfy with your heart fluttering nonstop while he stroked your bare thighs, scratching them lightly with his colored nails. It was you that painted them, chose the nail polish, did the design... it was during one of your nights together the week prior.

You came back to reality when Jisung started leaving few pecks on your right cheek, that trailed down your jaw making his lips snap loudly, almost abnoxiously against your skin.

"What are you... doing?"

You tried to shove his head off of you but he didn't even want to consider stopping.

"I thought we had an agreement? Are you that type of person that doesn't respect agreements? Nah that's not possible, you're a good girl... am just cuddling after all, hm?" he purred with his lower voice, a hint of a sly smirk appearing on his lips, you could feel it when he brushed them over your sensitive spot again and again. You knew he was in a playful mood, it happened quite often, but you were fearing for your little whimpers to slip and accidentally be heard.

"Ji... Ji it tickles stop..."

His hands moved and he was now menacing to place them on your sides. You thought he finally ceased with his intententions, but when you let your guard down Jisung started to move his slender fingers all together and felt your muscles tighten beneath his hold. Oh, oh it was sexy.

With a bit more force he moved your leg with his, flipping you on your back so he was on top of you free to access whatever part of your body he felt like would be a vulnerable spot.

The pc was long forgotten on the edge of the bed about to fall, but the only important thing in that moment was the battle for your survival.

Laughter filled the room while you tried to kick him with your feet, to grab a pillow and throw it on his face, to plea him to give you a chance to fight back.

He was enjoying himself, a lot. Your contorted expression made his chest tighten, as well as his sweatpants even if he felt like a total pervert.

"Sungie ple-please s-top! Can't-" you didn't even have enough strenght to form a full sentence, the feeling of his touch all over you being too intense and exciting. Were you being inappropriate? Probably. But you really loved having him all over you.

"Have- have mercy!"

Jisung's hands stopped their movements and rested on your sides, with his fingers caressing your skin, the same fingers that slipped under your shirt the moment the situation became chaotic.

Your legs were caging his middle, bringing his hips closer to yours. You both weren't sure about how you ended up in such position but you weren't complaining either. His cheeks tinted with a shade of dark red at the realization of the hardest erection he's ever had brushing your groin. It was impossible you weren't feeling it, and, after a few seconds, as he expected, your eyes widened and looked directly at him with the istictive action of your teeth catching your lower lip.

"I'm... I'm sorry y/n you know sometimes it's random andー" the fake excuses he wanted to give died in his throat when you moved against him. It was delicate but the faint friction of your barely clothed cunt against his bulge made his breath hitch.

"Baby please don't... I'll just get off and we'll keep watching the movie" but you moved again, this time firmer, a bit more confident; the wet spot on his boxers that you were wearing was by now too evident to hide. He too, was starting to leak from the tip, staining his grey sweatpants.

Jisung abruptdly got off of you, chest struggling to follow his breath.

"What are you doing, baby?" his voice was now trembling, eyes scanning your whole body searching for any sign of discomfort.

"Sungie... Sungie please forgive me I don't know whyー"

"Do you want to keep going?" it was him that interrupted you this time. Not a word was dared to be spoken for a few seconds, only leading sound the one coming from the movie, that seemed so distant in your ears. Fear, terror went through his whole body when he realized what he actually said, all blood gone somewhere else that wasn't his brain.

"I do" you nodded, doe eyes looking up at him, that was coming back closer to you.

Jisung stared at you for what seemed like an eternity, all while slowly closing the distance between your bodies.

"Are you sure? I mean you want to... me and you?" almost whispering, he looked at you so intensely you could've fainted.

You nodded, slowly, unsure where to look since his gorgeous, handsome face was mere centimeters away.

"Can I kiss you?"

So close you didn't even register him moving and colliding his lips with yours after your whispered "yes".

Immediately what were a few pecks became open wide kisses, that let your tongues explore. Jisung lifted your shirt enough to expose your breasts, hands flying to feel them, squeeze, roll your nipples between his fingers; you gasped at his sudden decision, letting him kiss you deeply, starting to suck your tongue. It was becoming so messy and sloppy, but it wasn't enough dirty to him.

"Open your mouth, open" one hand grabbing your face, thumb parting your lips and resting on top of your tongue. You saw him purse his lips a few times, just to harshly spit in your mouth soon after.

"Swallow it angel" he said, softly, and so you did, before starting to suck on his finger eagerly, making him groan and deliver an harsher thrust up your groin. Jisung resumed the kissing, still spitting every now and then, making a mess all around your lips that he was biting from time to time.

You too were grinding on him, using his hard on to relieve the suffucating feeling in your core, roughly pressing yourself against him, making him stay attached to you by closing your fists around the fabric of his shirt. Soon he removed it, too hot and sweaty to be comfortable in such situation, the only way to keep him closer being scratching his back while trying to grab his muscles.

When he pushed you away from him down on the matress confusion took place in your face, but before you could question him Jisung was already flat on top of the covers, head between your thighs, delicately removing those useless boxers by sliding them down your legs. Seductive was the right word to describe his behaviour: seductive in the way he caressed every inch of your skin with his fingers, seductive how he discarded the piece of fabric on the floor carelessly, seductively staring at you, always, every second of it. And Jisung sighed, he felt relieved when he finally saw your cunt, so pretty and glistening for him. You almost blushed at his reaction, at his whispered curses and praises.

He was teasing you, and he was teasing himself too since all he wanted in that moment was to take you. You were wet enaugh, he could've stretched you with his cock, but he waited too long for it to be just that, just sex.

"Jisung..." your voice angelic to his ears, he closed his eyes for a moment to concentrate and engrave it in his mind forever. It wasn't like the many other times you said his name, this one was special, so special he was almost afraid to forget it.

"Say it again baby. Say my name again..."

"Jisung, Jisung, Jisung..." your faint smile with your half lidded eyes made his cheeks flush. You were truly the most beautiful thing in his life.

Your hand reached the top of his head, going lower to rest on his cheek, stroking it, just to receive a kiss on your palm.

"We're still in time if you want to stop"

"You spat in my mouth and you're practically breathing against my pussy, Sungie, I don't think I want to go back" you chuckled, making him follow you. Even in a moment like that, you two managed to laugh. And it was so special, to see his genuine smile like that, that reflected in his eyes as well.

Without further doubt, he took his nose to brush your inner thigh, leaving a trail of kisses that led him to leave a testing lick on your sex, tongue flat touching everything at the same time. The hand that was back on his hair grabbed a few strands, making him hiss from the pleasurable pain. His arms locked your legs up his shoulders, dragging you closer until no space was left between you two.

"Taste so good baby, so sweet" you hear him mumble down there, starting to drag his tongue along your folds, parting them, finding your clit and kissing it gently. You started to squeeze his head, timidly grinding against his tongue but failing because of the restrained limbs.

Jisung started lapping your juices as if it was the only thing able to keep him alive, all while humping his bed desperately. It felt so good, he didn't even care if he was struggling to breathe, but it was becoming harder to move so he parted your legs further pressing them down. Jisung lifted his gaze, detaching from your cunt only to give you an order, after literally drooling over it.

"Don't move angel. Be good and stay still"

He made you so flustered, he made you chew your lower lip from embarassment, he made you cover your face, always, but in that precise moment it was as if every word of his set you on fire. And with that, he returned to his ministrations, two fingers magically appearing to play with your hole, prodding at it, teasingly making an in-and-out motion just with the very tip. A torture, he was torturing you. You already felt so close.

"Sungie please..."

Jisung smirked without ever leaving your pussy; he started to flick your clit from every direction, circling it, sucking like he would've done with a lollipop, while he started to insert his fingers properly. They went in easily, curling them aroud to find your sweet spot. He had to restrain himself from moving or he would've come, imagining how your insides would feel around his cock in a few moments.

Once found (he could understand that from the pornographic moan you let out), Jisung kept hitting on that delicious place pumping his digits without stopping even after your desperate pleading to slow down. Slow down for what? He was loving every second of it, the wet sounds echoing in the room covering the ones of the voices behind the screen of the movie still playing.

He was making you feel like you had never felt before, all of your senses conducing to him and whatever he was doing to you. You suddenly started to see stars, throwing your head back, whines and moans constricting your lungs.

"Let go baby, make a mess, cum f'me" voice muffled and low as your legs came back around his head, making him whine. Jisung loved the way you were reacting, moving and writhing everywhere, feeling so proud in the way he was pleasuring you by slurpling everything you gave him.

"Oh shit, Sungieー fuck Jisung!" a particular snap of his fingers, that hard suck, his moans vibrating inside of you, his eyes fixated on yours... you couldn't take it anymore, letting go of all the tension and letting your body fall even if you didn't know you were lifting yourself high up, tugging his hair impossibly tight. You clenched hard around his fingers forcing him to let them stay still pressing firmly, increasing the pleasure.

Jisung stayed there for a moment licking you clean to not waste a drop of your cum, almost sending you into overstimulation making your clit sting; he kissed it again one last time before freeing himself from your hold, quickly checking if he came too without noticing due to the heated moment. It was possible, since he was feeling as good as you.

And you still wanted more. You had one of the hardest orgasms of your entire life and you wanted him again.

"Want you inside..." you managed to blurt out, your hands trying to reach his figure.

"Yeah baby? Want me? Wait a second, I'll go grab aー"

"No... no need, 's okay" you pouted at the idea of having him far away from you even for a second, not wanting to let him go. Jisung though, felt his still restrained cock spurt a little at your words, cold sweat running down his back.

"Come inside Ji, want your cum!" you added, voicing the fantasies you happened to touch yourself to before all that.

His stare, intense and penetrating was making you tear up from anticipation. It was as if you awakened something in him, pupils darkening while lowering his pants and underwear all together. When they reached down enough his dick beautifully slapped against his groin, tip red and abused by the restricting fabric.

Jisung smirked to himself and got embarassed at the same time, taking silent notes on how your jaw faintly dropped, your eyes got wider... on how you didn't stop looking at his length even when he was directly in front of you, softly stroking it near your pussy. He too, couldn't stop looking at your body, shirt still crumpled up under your chin that he carefully provided to free you from. So cute under him, vulnerable and helpless, he wanted to protect you from every bad thing in the world.

He aligned himself to your entrance teasingly even if you were still sensitive, getting on top and propping himself up to not crush you.

Jisung kissed your forehead, making you smile widely. He then kissed your nose, both your cheeks, and lastly your lips, slowly, savoring every second of that sparkling sensation only you two could make.

"Mine. You're gonna be mine" he whispered against your kiss, starting to move forward.

Just the tip was larger than his two fingers, the new stretch making you whine and search for his eyes. Brows furrowed in concentration, he noticed your request of ressurance and patted your head, combing your hair.

"You're doing amazing baby," he got a bit further, continuing to kiss your face: "I know you can take it all, you're my good girl"

He quickly bottomed out as you gasped, the trimmed hair on his pube sticking to you. You couldn't stop whining while touching him all over, tracing your hands on his chest, back, arms, not knowing where to rest them. You lastly opted for clutching them around his neck pulling him against you, still hard nipples grazing his chest making him moan.

You were his weakness, he didn't know how he could last that long. Your touch made him go crazy, it had always been that way, so he got surprised by himself. Maybe it was the thought of making you feel good for as long as possible, maybe the desire of not wanting to waste such opportunity so easily... but he was starting to surrender to pleasure. Jisung wanted you to be the star of the night, but your words, the sounds you were making for him, your walls tightening around his dick, your neediness, everything was screaming to him that in reality he wasn't a strong man, not in that sense.

He started to focus a little bit more on his pleasure, getting lost in the feeling of your velvety walls sucking him in everytime he pulled back. It didn't help that whenever he reached the limit of his length, he touched yours too, kissing your cervix gently. Jisung was making love to you in a way that made you feel wanted, appreciated, taken care of, and you could never have enough of it with that rhythm.

You both started to meet each other halfway his thrusts that were becoming progressively more fast, squelching sounds making your face become impossibly hot and his lips curve upwards. His brows were still knitted together when he silently brought one hand around your neck and the other resting on one of your tits. His thrusts got sloppier, losing their precision; you could feel your breath hitch, his hold being gentle but still tightening and releasing fast enough to let your high pitched moans out. Jisung started to snap his hips against you, his own whines and grunts accompanying yours.

You both were getting closer, desperately chasing your highs as if you never had one before.

"I'm close Ji!" you said with all the strenght you had in your body, gathering your coscience to let out that phrase.

"Gonna cum together yeah baby? Yeah? Want me to make you mine?" he asked between sharp thrusts, rolling his eyes when he could catch a glimpse of you nodding.

Few other thrusts, a feverish kiss and a mutual whispered "I love you" was enough to make your vision blank: muscles contracting for who knows how long, his cum filling you to the brim, strangled moans dying in your throat.

Jisung stayed inside of you until he was soft, not daring to move or alter in any way that sacred moment. You two shared a tender kiss before he rolled on his side, but holding you so that you could get on top of him, still connected.

The ending credits of the movie started to roll, quiet music guiding his strokes on your lower back. You slowly started to calm your panting, comfortably leaning on his pecs, listening to his steading heartbeat.

"So... are we, like, together now?"

You looked up at him without moving and sighed.

"I don't know, not sure..." your joke wasn't that effective, since you couldn't hide the shy smile forming on your lips.

"Not sure she says, while being full of my cum"

"Jisung!!" a slap was landed on his bicep in opposition to his laughter, that you too were holding in.

"I love you baby"

"I love you too, baby"

The storm outside stopped, leaving you two in a comforting silence, in which you celebrated and accepted your blosoming love.

[snowsinterlude]

overprotective, lovesick, deranged.

(yandere coriolanus x reader)

summary: your ex boyfriend couldn't seem to let you go.

if i can't have you, no one can.

trigger.warning: yandere coriolanus, obslove (obsessive love), stockholm syndrome, drugging (no its not for sexual purposes), pregnancy, marriage, horror, depictions to murder (explicit), dubcon, p in v, cockwarming, extremely toxic behavior, unhinged coriolanus, this fanfic contains extreme toxic behavior and too much blood, if uncomfortable with that content, please, don't read it.

"This might get a little messy, I'm sure.

Heads rolling for the one I adore

This may become a little brutal if I'm honest

But it's any-anything for you my dear, I promise"

overprotective.

coriolanus snow was a man of ambition; one of those who won't quiet down until the moment he had what he wanted. this was something that happened to the women he got involved with too.

lucy gray baird was one of those. the moment your now ex-boyfriend was sent to district 12 you could tell something was wrong. you could not care less, though. he wasn't your boyfriend anymore and in your most honest opinion it was something good.

when he came back you were with a different man; one named valentine, who stayed with you when you saw coriolanus kissing lucy gray. who comforted you during this time and who hugged you everynight when the thunders during rain times echoed so hard that made you feel like being killed by one of those.

valentine, who's head was decapitated in front of you.

coriolanus, who was smiling to you as he opened the 'gift' he had prepared to you.

you, who couldn't help but throw up at the sight of your dead boyfriend. you, who passed out by the sick sight of his decapitated head, his eyes opened by strings of a red line, needled carelessly. the same eyes who used to look at you with so much affection and love, now weren't looking at you at all.

when you woke up, your hands were tightly wrapped up in a tight knot that he learned to do as a peacekeeper. strung up reasons.

"good morning, my love." he smiled, kissing your forehead. you were still in the kitchen, dressed in a white dress, you didn't remember putting it on. you didn't like the fabric nor the color of white- it would always get stained too easily. "you finally woke up."

you didn't had to think much to know that what happened wasn't a dream. it was real. he killed your boyfriend.

you opened your mouth, and the scream you left was enough for him to slap you across the face. once you begun to cry, he kneeled in front of you, hands cupping your face as you shaked.

"it's okay baby, snow's here for you,"" he kissed your face, making you melt into crying as hard as you could, sob after sob making your doll heart heavy. "remember you used to call me snowflake?" he asked, and you nodded cowardly, afraid of saying anything that might make him furious. "i'm still your snowflake."

and he hugged you, caressing your scalp as you ugly cried in front of him, but to him, you would never look ugly.

lovesick.

with your face pressed against the mattress, you stared at the gigantic mirror that covered an entire wall, watching yourself.

it's been three months since valentine died, and two months since snow untied you, carried you like a princess bride and bathed you, always murmuring the waltz that played when you both met.

maybe it wasn't so bad after all. he took extra care of you, never slapped you again- it was a relapse. he took care of the red slap mark in your cheek, apploed ointment on you everyday, prepared your favorite meals and left you to your own peace, let you mourn the death of that pathetic boy you decided to date.

it wasn't his fault, right? no- it was. why the hell were you thinking that the victim was the one to put to blame for their own death? are you dumb?

well, you aren't- but you're starting to become.

why were you smiling at him as he showed you the dress he brought you? why did your heart flutter when he made you desserts? c'mon now, he killed your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend?

he wasn't there to protect you now, was he? why would he be important in anyway? of course, he was the sweetest to you, never questioned when you moaned coryo's name instead of his, he knew how hard it was to you.

for fucks sakes, what were you doing? what were you thinking?

coriolanus entered the room he made to you after three knocks, a tray with golden white details on his hand, with two toasts, less than a dozen pancakes that he knew you liked, a cup of strawberry juice and a small bow of green grapes.

once you ate at least half of it and drink the juice, he was by your side, caressing your hair.

"bunny?" he called, taking you off your own state of blankness.

"yes?"

"do you hate me?" you wanted to say yes. wanted to spit on his face for asking such a dumb question after holding you hostage and killing your boyfriend, you truly wanted to.

but you didn’t. "no," and maybe you didn't hated him at all. maybe that juice with the truth-telling pill didn't had much of an effect on you

"hm." he hummed, lips curling into the pretty smile he had. "it's good to know that."

he put the tray aside, laying by your side. why have you been laying like a sick woman at it's death bed? ah. yeah, he didn’t liked the idea of you going away, he said he didn’t want you to leave him. how cute.

you smiled at the thought. then you had to gather all the senses you had left to scold yourself.

it didn't last long though, the moment his hands found your hips and started grinding on you, you felt aroused. you shouldn't be, this was the man that killed your boyfriend. this was the man who slapped you. this was the man who didn't let you go around the house with the excuse that he didn’t want you to leave him.

but of course, your cunt didn't had the same thought that you did. so, by the amount of teasing and the way his soft, slender fingers found your clit almost immediatly, you couldn't help but moan and grind back, feeling as if you were humiliating yourself.

"s-stop that, coryo. please." you said. "i'm still mourning valentine's death-"

"i'm sorry, dove, but your pussy doesn't seem to agree with that." and he rolled your nightgown up, pulled his pants down and finally his dick was grinding against your wetness, the tip teasing your clit as he didn’t went inside, why he wasn't going inside? you needed him in.

your breath hitched at the thought, your hand gripping the sheets as he slowly thrusted, but never inside of you.

"tell me, dove, do you want it in?" he asked, his index finger teasing your clit.

"n..no, i-i don't-" he chuckled at your own lies, you felt like laughing too, the exact moment he kissed your shoulder you had to close your own lips, aware that you would end up smiling at him.

"i don't think you don't want it. tell me, baby, what do you want exactly?"

your breath hitched, you could feel how harder your nipples were compared to before. you shouldn't be wanting this. and you knew that. but you loved him so much.

"y-you. please, i'm sorry, coryo." what were you sorry about? you didn't do anything wrong other than mourn and cry.

"you're forgiven, baby. now, just let me enter you, okay?" you nodded. you were pathetic, that nod was pathetic, looking at you in the mirror was pathetic, seeing how you surrendered so easily to his touch was pathetic- the fact that you were ovulating was pathetic. the fact he knew you were fertile was psychotic, and mostly pathetic cause it was you who let him know about it when you were both dating.

you slurred a long and low moan out of your mouth, your eyes closed shut the second your walls were slowly stretched by his dick, it wasn't as painful as the first time, but you felt like being ripped apart.

dubiously, you let his dick kiss your uterus like never before. you felt so ridiculous when his dick went further into you, when your warm walls squeezed his dick into you, when your pussy felt like gushing and you cockwarmed him with pleasure, and you fucked him back, moving your hips almost like you didn't want him to see you moving.

"you would look so good pregnant, don't you think, baby?" he asked, his hand going upwards and abandoning your clit to pass on your belly. "you'd be so pretty. more than you are already"

you shook your head, panic taking over you.

"p-please, coryo. don't do it, not inside, please. not inside" of course, he didn’t even cared about your mewls, thrusting harder into you, earning a bunch of moans out of your mouth, your voice echoing as he spread your legs and made you look into the mirror to see the mess you were.

your boobs bouncing out of your nightdress, your pussy beautifully welcoming his dick inside your cunt, his balls slapping against your clit due to the pose, and the more you concentreated on the pleasure, you were closer to cumming.

"yeah, keep squeezing me like that, dove" he said into your year, sucking on your neck. you moaned as an answer "i'm gonna fuck my baby's into you."

you squeezed him too tightly, your pussy gushing around him before finally cumming. too good, too good. were all that you could think of.

"such a pretty girl, baby. you will be such a good mom." he said, finally cumming inside of you, the hot seed flowing inside you and leaking a bit.

you turned to see his face, recieving a kiss that you promptly deepened.

you were doomed.

deranged.

his grandma'am was the one to acompany you to the altar. the entire panem was there or outside waiting to see the marriage of the new president snow.

you smiled at him under the veil, your swollen round belly being the one that claimed attention more than anything. you were in fact a beautiful mom, carrying his twin girls in your heart and stomach.

you still loved him after all, who would know?

not even him expected you to say yes, not in the marriage, not at the proposal, and not at any other situation, specially when he was impregnating you.

"do you, mr. snow, accept mrs. y/n as your wife?" the priest asked, a sweet smile on his elderly lips.

"i do."

"and you, mrs. y/n, accept mr. snow as your husband?" he asked to you, and you smiled, cherry lipstick covering your lips.

"i do."

you caved your own grave, and you knew it. but if you died, you would take him with you.

that's what love is about.

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

Rewrite the ending

-Just once, let him rewrite the story; Just once, he promises you will never have to watch the same ending again.

Paring◦ felix x mommy issues!reader

Genre ◦ smut with pain

Warnings ◦ The reader is described as having mommy issues though the argument is very brief so it can connect with more people, angst, talk about knives, PIV sex, CONSENT, ngl this is just some passionate lovemaking, tears during sex, references to the princess bride the greatest love story of all time I will die on this hill,

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr, @velvetmoonlght

A/N ◦ This is literally a story solely based on an experience I just had with my mother and needed something to comfort me while I have a mental breakdown 😃 also if you liked this man I have mommy issues I severely need reassurance 😭

can somebody please tell me if this is convoluted because I tried to make it poetic but I don't know if I just made it messy. THANK YOU.

Soundtrack ◦ Family Line by Conan Grey, Cover me by Stray Kids

~cookiecreates 🍪

The screen flickers off.

The velvet curtains close.

The world fades to black.

The End

Your ribs crack open, heavy sobs echoing through the gaps of your unfolded bones. Your hands make purchase around your shredded soul, the warm liquid of your sorrows trickling through your splayed fingers like the shadow's phantom finger tracing the lines of your melancholy, dusting over the hill of your cheeks. 

One more time.

Just one more time.

You rewind the tape-

The velvet curtains stutter open.

The screen flashes white.

Just one more time.

How many times could you watch the same movie before you realized the ending would never change?

You rewind the tape-

How many times could you lick her love off the edge of a knife before you realize the blade will never dull?

You slide the tip across your tongue-

Just one more time.

Please.

Just pretend to love me one more time.

"For once, can you admit that you're wrong?" you snap, attempting to steady your rising voice. 

You've been arguing with your mother for centuries, your breath grating across your throat like grains of sharpened sand. Talking to her was like bouncing wisdom off a wall; it will only ever come to bite you in the ass-

"I did what I had to do to teach you discipline; you were unruly-"

or punch you in the face.

"I was nine!" you shout, a weak and wounded cry. "Nine!"

How could she not see that?

"I did it because I loved you."

She rips your heart out of your chest, only to dust a gentle finger underneath the curve of your jaw; her sweet smile coaxes your lips open; she was your mother, and yet, with a wicked gaze, she draws her fingers together—you choke, a thick river of blood flows onto your tongue like a bitter stream of a thousand broken promises.

There was so much you wanted to say to her.

"Maybe you should reevaluate your definition of love."

"Maybe you should have just been a better daughter."

"Only she could spread sugar across your skin before feeding your soul to the ants."

The signal of an ended call rings through your ears as the world fades to black.

The velvet curtains close.

The screen flickers off.

The movie sputters to a stop.

The End

All you wanted to hear was I'm sorry.

All you have ever wanted to hear was I'm sorry.

You are far too entranced with the stillness of your spine to hear the door creak open, Felix’s hesitant footsteps carefully creep closer. It is only when he mumbles a soft, saturnine "sweetheart" that you finally feel something-

"How did it go?" Felix believed the strings of your souls were so intertwined, the two of you experienced emotions the way an instrument feels the thrum of a cord; but as your heart pumps with an intangible amount of anguish, maybe even for you, some feelings were simply too subjective to share.

It is only when your heart has been crushed by fingers made of feathers do you start caring a lot less about the hands made of knives.

How desperately he wishes he was a human with hinges, where he may unscrew his soul and allow your eyes to gaze upon his walls, with the knowledge that they were only ever painted with the thought of you.

He would not hurt you-

Please, collapse into him, just once-

Let him prove that you will never have to fall again-

Wordlessly, thoughtlessly, your hand chases his touch, a million different uncompleted sentences dissipating as soon as your skin connects; your fingers beg, hold me, even as your mouth shutters shut, dusty rivulets cascading across your cheeks like the desert's silky sand.

You were empty.

so, so, very empty-

Felix's soothing hands lock underneath the bend of your knees, pulling you into his warm embrace with a rush of unregistered movements.

You rewind the tape.

Just one more time.

You needed to be reminded of what it was like to not constantly live with the echo of a hollow soul.

Just one more time.

You needed to be reminded of what it was like to hear something other than a deafening crescendo of pure contempt.

Just one more time.

"Please," you have lived so much of your life caught in a perpetual state of emptiness, for once, you wanted to remember what your body was like before your mother bore you with the heavy burden of broken wings.

"Touch me," you shove the palm of his hand into your core, pleading with so much of your soul none left to protest. He gasps into your mouth, his face scrawled with worry, the etch of a million different fears drawn into the deep lines of his forehead.

Just once

Let him rewind the film

Just once

You will never have to watch the same ending again.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Though his words are unsure, his actions tell a different story; tender hands massage the length of your thighs, reluctantly begging you to open up, to unfold your deformed ribs, where he will fill your hollow bones with the type of love you have only ever yearned for.

Just once.

"I need you."

You need him more than you need your heart to beat, your lungs to breathe; you need him more than you need the birds, the bees, the ground, the trees—

He lays you upon the silken sheets with such soulful kindness that your glassy eyes almost break; his heart thrums with the promise of I love you and the vow of I'll make you fly. His hand dips into the band of your shorts, pleasure peeking out from the shadows of your mind, only ever bobbing its head long enough to fill your skin with a minute tingling sensation—like running your hands under hot water after a long day in the snow, but it was not enough.

"I need you," you gasp into his mouth, his throat desperately sucking the sound in. His eyes widen ever so slightly, his features stricken with a sudden tightness, a burdened tonnage; you were handing him your heart with the hope his hands weren't made of blades, and the idea of the utter trust you have put in him to do that makes his stomach flip.

Just once—

He will prove it all to you.

"As you wish," nostalgia flutters in your veins as you reminisce the sentence pulled straight from the greatest love story ever told. His nose nudges the column of your throat as he presses a peck on your flesh, drifting his arms down to unceremoniously pull off his pants.

Even with such a simple act, he makes the effort to remind you that he is here.

He takes his time removing your clothes, fingers sliding across your skin with a delicate intimacy, a tender reverence; his lips trace the lines of your seams until your very atoms are etched with his name.

I hate her

I love you

I love you

I love you

He coupled every leak of anger with a river of love, kissing your limbs until all your body could remember was the pureness of his ardor.

"Are you ready?" he whispers against your skin, lining himself with your entrance, all he needs is a word to finally sink himself in. Your eyes are glassy, gazing up at him with such an unadulterated passion, a pure amount of pain—this will tear you apart, and he promises with every fiber of his being, he will put you back together.

"Yes." You have lived most of your life with the heavy burden of a body’s broken wings, and it isn't until Felix’s crafted hands finally crease your ribs that you realize origami can only emerge when you fold it up, the way a bird can only fly when it falls.

You are an amalgamation; so much of your soul is lost in his lips you don't know where he begins and you end, but when a rush of pleasure tingles up your spine, you don't care.

The world is tangled somewhere on the edge of in-between space and time, melding together into a mushy, gushy substance that slips through your fingers as they lace in his raven locks. You pour all your pain into the slit of his lips, where he sucks in every drop, leaving no room for your protests.

You were both overcome with a flood of delicate feelings—the passion that surged with the twists of your heartbeats began to be too much to bear; as his hips ruthlessly rut into yours, you cry out, chasing the edge of a daydream. So close, so close, so—his lips taste like I love you and his tears like I'm here. You can only hear the crash of your soul shattering before his ginger fingers sew you back together.

The juxtaposition of that orgasm was astounding.

You both slam down into the earth at the same time, holding each other's tired bodies as the ground swallows you up.

His arms lock around your head, quivering as he struggles to hold himself up, droplets of tears land on your cheeks as they dip down the slope of his nose. He was so perfect-

so, so, very perfect.

Your mouth raises to kiss a tear clinging to the tip of his nose. He chokes, squeezing his eyes shut. You both are thrumming with tension, overflowing with emotion; before you can even blink, he is pulling you to his chest, naked and sticky, he holds you closer than you have ever been.

It is through the tears of others that we remember we are alive.

Just one more time.

Rewind the tape and let him kiss your shattering soul with the knowledge that has already rewritten the ending.

Just once-

Collapse into him.

Let him prove that this story really is—

The End  

©CookieCreates (posted: August, 12th 2024) All rights reserved. Do not translate, copy, or claim my works as yours! I only post on this platform so if any of my works are elsewhere, report and notify me immediately.

~cookiecreates 🍪

[mandarinmoons]

Hi! So what about BAU!Reader and Spencer are fresh into their relationship. Like weeks into it. Reader is just as shy and nerdy as Spencer was in early seasons. (This can be any season of Spencer) anyways it’s Spencer’s birthday and Spencer begs reader to not buy anything for him so instead she knits him a replica of Dr. Who scarf because she remembers him mentioning to Garcia he was trying to find the perfect replica for his Dr. Who cosplay (7x23 when Garcia and Spencer go to that convention) so reader, who never watched it before, watches the entire series while knitting the scarf bc she knows how much Spencer loves Dr. Who and she wanted to understand his interests more. Maybe she makes herself a matching scarf or hand warmers in the process. And then she’s like “I have a ton of questions about the series though” and pulls out a notebook of her questions as she’s asking them Spencer realizes she’s THE ONE and it’s all just fluff and two nerds in love 🥰

I've never consumed any content about Doctor Who so I'm sorry if this is a bit vague BUT the idea was so cute so I had to give it a shot x

You and Spencer were both nerds, it’s what drew you two together and keeps you both joined at the hip. Even though you two had been together for less than eight weeks, both of you had your eyes on one another for a good while. When mutual feelings were finally admitted the only thing different from before was that you got to hold hands and kiss each other on the cheek comfortably without having to worry if it’ll make the other person uncomfortable.

Spencer’s birthday was coming up and with Spencer being the way that he is, he was adamant about not letting you splurge on his big day. You were a bit annoyed by it because a part of you did want to go out and treat your special boy the way he deserved to be treated. However, you did not want to argue with him so you decided to get a bit creative.

Long before the relationship had been established, Spencer had talked about how he was searching for a replica of the Doctor Who scarf for his cosplay. Knitting was something you had learned before, although it had been quite a few years since you last picked it up, you decided to try it out again and hopefully make Spencer’s face gleam with joy.

After digging out your old knitting needles and yarn you looked up some tutorials online to familiarize yourself with your old hobbie. A few hours and some messy pathworks later, you managed to remind yourself of how everything went down and began work on the scarf. Luckily the pattern wasn’t difficult at all and as you began working away you thought about looking up the show and getting a feel for what Spencer talks about all the time.

After many weeks and countless trips to the store to get more yarn the scarf was finished and you were both excited and nervous to hand it over to Spencer. A million thoughts ran in your head as he undid the bow on the carefully packed present and removed the scarf from the paper, his eyes went wide and he was speechless for a whole minute.

“Y/N, how did you…”

“Surprise?” you chuckled and Spencer was still speechless, he ran his thumbs over the carefully knitted garment. He wrapped it over his neck and walked over to the mirror to have a closer look, his heart was melting over how you took so much time and effort to make him this. He walked over to you and placed his arms around you in a bone crushing hug which only made you laugh.

“I’m so glad you like it.”

“Like it? That doesn’t even come close to how I feel about it, I love it.”

Spencer held your cheeks as he kissed you and as you parted a thought came to your mind.

“Oh also, I watched a bit of the show!”

“Really? Did you like it?”

“Mhm, I have a few questions though, firstly…”

As you went on about your questions regarding the show Spencer stared at you while a smile crept on his face. He loved how you took interest in anything he was fascinated in, and in return he would do it with your interests as well, it was one of the ways you both showed love to one another.

Spencer guided you back to the couch, pulling you to his lap as he cleared his throat and explaining the questions you just layed out for him. You looked up at him and nodded along as he got into the topic and you were reminded of one of the reasons why you fell for him in the first place, his passion, and that same passion grew now that he had someone like you in his life.

Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden

If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!

You can find my masterlist here!

My requests are open so feel free to send one in! (SFW only)

[atsumwah]

too pretty!

featuring : matsukawa issei the loml <3

notes : you're jealous your bf is too pretty

you're aware that your friends are very attractive. 

oikawa's somewhat charming personality easily grabs a girl's attention, iwaizumi's buff figure immediately turns heads whenever he enters a room and makki had this boyish ruggish look that somewhat looks cute to some people. it's normal seeing them being hit on by girls and sometimes it's like a form of entertainment for you.

but your boyfriend on the other hand, now this is new.

you've been together since high school. you've always found issei attractive. he's not a smooth talker like oikawa, but his attentiveness and response when you talk to him makes you feel seen and heard. he doesn't seem as built as iwaizumi at first glance, but underneath those baggy clothes hid something you're glad only you can see and touch. he's not as easy going as makki, but the way he spontaneously shows up at your house at 3 in the morning when you're upset tells you maybe he's easy going when it comes to you. 

so falling in love with him was inevitable because all the things he does with you and only you are attractive. 

but you're not the only one who thinks that anymore. 

see, after your boyfriend figured out his own style that weren't baggy clothes and instead fitted his physique and also found a way to style his usual mess of a bedhead into luscious curls, he suddenly became attractive to everyone around him. 

and it pissed you off. he was always attractive without the sudden change but now its like that's all people see. 

like when you visited oikawa and iwaizumi at the gym and the manager shamelessly flirted with issei the moment you left to greet them. or when you visited makki with him at the cafe he worked at and makki's coworker only paid attention to issei and completely ignored you. or when you were out grocery shopping and left issei for five minutes only to come back to a girl who had the audacity to ask if he was single.

so yeah you're pissed off. and there's only one logical way to fix this.

"what are you doing?" issei asks as you settle down on his lap and ruffle his already done up hair. "baby, i just fixed it."

"i know. i'm ruining it." 

instead of being mad his hair is being messy, he raises an eyebrow instead. "but then we're gonna be late."

"you'll go out like this then." 

he has this amused smile now. "okay, what's up with you?"

"nothing." you said, somewhat proud of your work. "just fixing you up."

"this is the opposite of fixing me up, babe." he took your hands and plants kisses across your palms, then he rests his own hands on your hips. "why are you making me look like i just made out with you? there are other ways to achieve that." 

in another situation you would cave in but you had a mission. "you're too good looking. i'm trynna make you look less good looking."

this time, he laughs. "gee thanks babe. i appreciate the compliment." 

"i'm serious." you pout, though issei just keeps on laughing. "you're too pretty and girls are swooning all over you and you don't even do anything about it."

"whoa what," he stops, eyes locking onto yours. "who's swooning over who now?"

"everyone is all over you. can't you tell?" you huff when you realize his bed head makes him look even more attractive. damn it.

"honestly no." he says simply. "and you're…jealous?"

"i'm not jealous. i'm pissed. there's a difference."

"pretty sure they're the same thing, babe."

you squish his cheeks, framing his face with your hands. "stop being so pretty."

he chuckles and brings his hands up to cover yours. "this is really bothering you, huh?"

"maybe just a tad bit."

"you know i only got eyes on you, right?" he takes your hands off and leans in so you both are nose to nose.

"i've been told so once or twice."

"once or twice?"

"maybe hundreds of times but who's counting."

"and you know im stuck with you forever, right?"

"mhm," you indulge him by wrapping your arms around him, "you better be."

"so there's no reason for you to get all jealous." he says, eyebrows raising up as if an idea popped into his head. "what if you just kiss me if that happens?"

"like stake my claim? what are we, animals?" 

"i mean that's what i've been doing when guys hit on you."

"it is? wait, back up, when has that happened?"

"you're delusional if you think guys don't hit on you."

"they don't!"

"yeah well they don't get the chance to do it properly because my radar is just too good."

"oh my god, you're serious."

"deadass. and lemme tell you, it always works." he says proudly. "i get to turn you into mush and also send a warning to other guys. win-win situation."

"i do not turn to mush."

"really now?" he wiggles his eyebrows. "want a reminder?"

you think you've indulged him quite enough so you flick his forehead instead. he winces. good.

"so you don't mind?" you said, narrowing your eyes playfully. "you don't mind me staking my claim on you next time it happens?

"baby, please, I encourage it." he says, almost too quickly.

you giggle, feeling some sort of satisfaction that your boyfriend is all on board with you staking your claim in front of people. it should make you feel shy or embarrassed but it kind of makes you feel giddy instead. but he doesn't need to know that yet.

tempted to do a pt2 but it's just me reader making out w issei

[astermath]

Hii 🤭 can I request a Dave Lizewski x reader fluffy smut? Maybe something like dave and the reader are studying for a test but he gets distracted or something

omg yes ofc!! I haven't written for dave in a bit but he's still one of my main pookies so YES, YES I WILL ANON. so sorry this took so long btw!!

pairing: dave lizewski x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend is too distracted during your study session, so you decide to help him out.

word count: 1.5K

tags: dave and reader are in college, protected sex, established relationship, kind of sub dave? a little proofread, minors dni! normal font below!

let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list for further dave lizewski related content!

Dave tutoring you was a regular part of your weekly routine. Not only was he a great boyfriend, but he was also an expert at anything math related. Which came in handy for you, because despite being a major in social studies, your course required you to take a class in statistics. So, with exams coming up, the two of you had been spending more and more time preparing together.

The sound of pens clicking and papers being shuffled around filled the room along with your groans. You were desperately trying to find the formula key you’d written down earlier, that had now conveniently disappeared.

Dave watched you, eyes peeking above his glasses as he bit his bottom lip. He wouldn’t tell you, he was pretty sure you’d gotten even more frustrated, but you looked so cute when you were agitated. Not that he liked having you in that mood, not at all. But it was just— the pout of your soft lips, the scrunch of your cute nose, the little huff you’d make when things didn’t go your way… Boy, he was obsessed with you.

"But I swear I-- are you even listening to me?"

Dave snaps out of his daydreaming when you snap your fingers in front of his face, a blush creeping up his face. "I-I was, I promise!"

You raised an eyebrow. "Sure you were." You leaned back into your chair, crossing your legs. "Aren't you supposed to be helping me? I'm gonna be so mad if I have to retake this course."

He gulps, the last thing he wanted was for you to waste your precious time on doing this all again. Especially because that meant you'd have less time for him as well.

"I know, I'm sorry, it's just... I'm so--"

"Distracted?" you interrupt his stammering. To Dave's surprise, you're no longer looking all that frustrated. Your frown is replaced by a cheeky grin, one he knows all too well.

“N-No, I mean— yeah, a little, but it’s not that I don’t wanna help—“ he starts rambling, his words dying off when he hears you giggle. "Wh--What?"

"You're so cute, Dave," you got up, closing the distance so that you were now standing in between his legs, "but I really can't have you being all distracted while we're supposed to study."

He suddenly felt a lot guiltier about his staring. He promised to help you and here he was gawking at how pretty you were, getting all kinds of thoughts. He felt like a pervert.

"I'm sorry, you're right, I'm just getting in the wa-- what are you doing?"

You took his hands and pulled him off the chair, guiding him over to the bed and giving him a push so he landed with his back flat onto the mattress. He looked a little disheveled, curls all messy and his glasses a little crooked. God, you could just eat him up.

"I can't have you being distracted, so," you took your shirt off in one swift motion, "let's fix that."

He watched you with wide blue eyes, face flushed pink with his mouth hanging open. You were no stranger to taking the upper hand with him, but he hadn't expected your study session to get steamy so quickly.

That's how you ended up on top of him, hips grinding down on him through his boxers and your panties. He swore he was about to cum just from you rubbing yourself over him, it took everything in him not to give into that feeling.

"Is this what you were thinking about, baby?" Your voice is dripping with honey. There's something teasing, almost mocking in it. You were well aware of how horny your boyfriend gets, the dirty thoughts he gets, even from before the two of you were a thing. But he never just admits them, no, he's a sweetheart like that.

He wants to answer, so bad, but with every movement of your hips a whimper spills from his lips, whether he wants it to or not. He's not too sure what to do with his hands, keeping them loosely on your thighs, not guiding, simply touching. Almost to ground himself a little.

"Hm, or maybe... You were thinking about this?" You reach down to move your panties to the side, and he takes the hint to start shoving his boxers down, just low enough to free his cock. You feel it tap against your ass as it finally springs free, already dripping with precum.

The vulgar sound of your juices spreading over his cock drives him mad. He barely gets the time to roll a condom on before your rubbing his head through your folds again, his hands grabbing the fat of your thighs a little harder. He's whining softly, silently pleading for you to let him fuck you already.

"What's that baby?" you reach out and grab his jaw, forcing him to look at you. "Use your words hun, I'm not a mind reader."

He just stares at you for a moment, cock twitching at your commanding words. He swallows, struggling to get anything out like the horny mess he is.

"I-I want you to--"

"Speak up."

"I want to be inside you," His voice cracks a little when he repeats himself, louder this time, "Please." he adds.

You smile, a thumb rubbing gently across his cheek. Poor boy looked like he was about to cry if he didn't get to fuck you, cock painfully aching with a need for you, and you alone.

"Well," you lined him up with your entrance, "only because you asked so nicely."

You took him inside with one swift movement of your hips, dropping down onto his lap with an audible clap of skin against skin. You moaned in unison, eyes finding each other, always wanting to watch the other's face when you finally connected like this again.

You wasted no time, already moving your hips again, the sensation of his cock dragging over your slicked walls sending you into a state of euphoria already. Dave's a big guy, and that counts for every other part of him too. You didn't care if stretch was a little painful, or that it took you a while to get used to the size of him at first, you loved it.

"B-Baby, please-- oh my god, you feel s'good, holy shit..." He blabbered on, his words slurring over the sounds of his moans. You grinned, he was already so pussy drunk, it was adorable.

You leaned over, hand splayed over his toned chest, nails dragging over his fair skin and leaving red trails in their wake. He looked so pretty, all marked up, letting everybody know that he was yours. Not that they didn't know already, he loved letting them know, always mentioning his pretty girlfriend whenever he could.

Your thighs started burning a little from the exertion, but you couldn't stop, not when you felt your orgasm slowly approaching. You started moving faster, bouncing on his cock, grin faltering as your expression grew more desperate.

"Dave, I-- fuck!" you cried out when he shifted his hips, the head of his cock hitting a particular spot inside you that made you see stars. "Keep doing that, holy shit, m'gonna cum baby..."

He took your command, as always, following your rhythm with his own movements. His thrusts become more erratic and sloppy by the second, letting you know he was getting close himself. Not that the continuous repeating of your name wasn't already alerting you of that.

"J-Just like that baby, just like that," your orgasm caught up to you soon, walls fluttering around him as you tilted your head back and moaned his name. The two of you were always loud, but now you were sure the whole floor heard you.

He followed right after, thrusting up into you and filling the condom with his hot cum. Your body went limp for a moment, collapsing on top of him with your full weight. His strong arms enveloped you, your face tucked into the crook of his neck, panting, trying to catch your breath.

After a moment to come down from the high of your orgasms, you moved your head to press soft kisses to his cheek. He sighed dreamily, an adorable boyish smile appearing on his face. He couldn't believe how lucky he was to have you. Sometimes, it just felt like a dream. Luckily you were there to kiss him back to reality.

"D'you wanna go back to studying?" he asked softly, his hand tracing gently over your spine.

You whined, pressing a few kisses to his lips. "Hm... No..."

"But," kiss, "what about," kiss, "the exam?"

"Fuck the exam." You moved your head back to rest on his shoulder.

He doesn't reply, instead smiling to himself. Just being glad he's not the only one distracted now.

tag list <3

@nephilimsss @tangerinesgf @dynamitehacke @izzyisstuff @cinawoah @amoebagrl @ykyouluvme  @stilloverthinking @erodastylinson  @reneehillary69  @durag-tanaka @earth-elemental18    @caxddce  @777iii @a-simp-for-broken-people

[luv4fushi]

omfg i litr read everything uve written off ur masterlist I NEED MOREEEE. i love the way u write megumi especially, i couldn’t get enough of it. i hope you write more of him, my heart aches for more tbh 🥹 tysm for being such a good writer and feeding us starved readers well

tysm! i'm sooo glad i can be a good source of megumi content for you >_< i looove writing megumi so you'll be seeing sooo much more of him, dw! happy holidays!

this december

jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

it’s always colder on your own, especially around this time of year. you should be at home, bundled up with a warm cup of hot chocolate, but here you are in shinjuku, exorcizing curses with your ex boyfriend two weeks after your breakup with him. great.

content: post break up, aged up megumi (19/20), megumi is terrible at feelings, getting back together, fluff if you squint, a bit of angst, miscommunication, one bed (but it isn’t the main plot point sorry), megumi calls you baby like once, gojo is the best wingman, SHIBUYA ARC NEVER HAPPENED AND LIFE IS GOOD, not proofread im very sorry guys pls forgive me, kinda a word dump sry

word count: 5.8k (sigh this was supposed to be 2k words max)

click on my masterlist for more & merry christmas to those who celebrate!

it’s december 19th when satoru gojo tells you that he has a mission just for you. you’re less than ecstatic about it to say the least. the last thing you want to do is be sent to your death just shy of christmas day. you just want to rest your sore muscles and bask in the presence of your best friends. you’re not in the mood to kill any curses, mainly because you’ve just recovered from a previous mission.

“why me?” you groan.

gone are the days where you used to be a goody two shoes for satoru. you’re old enough to talk back now, not like when you had been a shy fifteen-year-old girl. besides, you’ve been around the silver-haired sorcerer long enough to know that he doesn’t mind the bite.

“sorry, kid,” satoru says with a shrug. at least he sounds genuine about it. “the higher ups requested for you specifically. they say you’ll get the job done in the cleanest way. we can’t have things getting messy before the holidays, right?”

“and you wouldn’t be the best choice?” you quip.

satoru only laughs. he ruffles your hair. even with your growth spurt and merciless training, he still towers over you. in a way, he’ll always be your mentor. “hey, i’m going out of town that weekend. give me a break.”

you huff petulantly. something about this mission seems fishy to you. you’re not nearly the strongest sorcerer out of the bunch of kids under satoru’s wings (not that you guys are kids anymore, but sometimes it’s hard to feel otherwise). hell, there’s the kyoto students. it feels like they never have to do anything. you wish that you were rebellious enough to chew utahime out for it.

“why couldn’t they just make yuta or megumi go?” you mutter under your breath. you stammer out megumi’s name and hope satoru doesn’t catch on to the way you can barely say it.

satoru knows about the breakup. why wouldn’t he? he’s basically megumi’s dad, even if the raven haired boy refuses to admit it. satoru’s six eyes mean you can’t hide anything from him (he’d been the first to know that megumi was head over heels for you).

satoru raises a brow. “oh, right. megumi’s coming along too.”

your face twists and you immediately whip around to glare at him. “you’re lying.”

“i wish,” he jokes. “i was really hoping i’d get a wedding invitation one day, you little rascal. i can’t believe you two broke up. maybe this’ll be a good thing!”

“i appreciate your honesty, but—”

“but megumi’s an emotionally constipated kid, yeah, that i know,” satoru laughs. he makes his way to the exit of his office which has you furrowing your brows. is your former teacher actually gonna just leave after making you come all the way here? how rude and so very in character of him.

“please, gojo,” you call out after him, “i don’t wanna go with him.”

“sucks for you,” satoru responds halfheartedly. “merry christmas. try not to take more than a week on this. you’ll have to pay the rest of the fee for accommodations if you do.”

“gojo!” you whine.

“it’s not a hard mission!” satoru insists like it’ll make your life any easier. “y’know, this time of year is when things get ugly. think of it as saving as many people as you can while putting in the least amount of effort!”

and then he teleports. your former teacher teleports away rather than being normal and walking out of the door. you roll your eyes and hope that he can sense it (you know he can’t).

so that’s why you’re here now. with your ex. on the elevator to your assigned room on the tenth floor. you’re so glad that it’s a normal hotel and not a love hotel. lord knows what you’d do if you had checked into a love hotel.

megumi hasn’t spoken a word to you since he broke up with you two weeks ago. it had been in the doorway to your apartment a few days after a particularly rough mission assigned to the both of you—the one you’re still recovering from. he’d pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet words into your ear. he gave you a look, one of those looks that made him soften his usually sharp eyes.

“i think we should break up.”

and then came the pathetic whimper of yours. he had wiped your tears, even kissed them tenderly, before telling you that it wasn’t your fault—it was his. how cliche.

now as you stand next to him, you want to beat yourself up for not asking for closure. neither of you had explicitly stated that you two were going to be no-contact, but it hurts a lot less to push the idea of forever with megumi away to the back of your mind. besides, you two aren’t confrontational like that. not with each other, anyway.

“need help?” his tone is soft, tender—the tone he reserves specifically for you, the one that tells you he still cares.

you stare down at the luggage at your feet. you’ve always been a chronic overpacker, a habit that megumi knows of by now. he watches you curiously, hands itching at his sides. you can tell that he wants to reach out and grab your suitcase like he always does. he thinks he isn’t obvious, but you can always read through the lines, especially when it’s megumi.

“i’m okay,” you croak out, clearing your throat awkwardly.

the elevator dings and you make your way to your room. as much as you hate to admit it, you’re sort of glad that you and your ex boyfriend are sharing a room. perhaps his’ll be a good way to get closure, though you’re not really sure what closure entails.

what you don’t expect is to unlock the door and be met with a singular bed.

if satoru gojo didn’t have a layer of infinity coating his body (and if he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive), you would’ve wrung out his neck.

megumi simply walks into the room, setting his duffel bag down on one of the dressers opposite from the foot of the bed. he doesn’t comment on the lack of double beds, seemingly already aware of the set up.all he does is puff out a weary sigh. you suck in a breath and follow him inside, slipping your shoes off at the entrance.

you lug your suitcase in after you along with your duffel bag and backpack. you stumble forward and megumi’s arm snakes around your waist, steadying you.

“careful,” he mutters, nonchalantly taking your bag off our your shoulders.

it’s a quick series of movements; he swings your bag over his shoulders and places it on the dresser next to the one he’s claimed while guiding you softly to the side of the bed so that you’re not standing in the middle of the doorway.

you scrunch your face, feeling your heart thump against your ribcage. it’s stupid how he still has such a hold on you, even after two weeks of not seeing or talking to him. he’s just so caring, so gentle. it stings, like little the little cuts you get when fighting curses, when you realize that this is something you’ll have to learn how to lose.

“thanks,” you manage to mutter. you don’t trust yourself to say anything else. you know from the way your throat tightens that you’ll be crying soon if you force yourself to talk any more.

“i can take the couch,” megumi says.

it’s that easy with him; he’s a gentleman, so of course he’d take the couch. that’s the way megumi fushiguro is—he offers a solution before you even have the chance to complain. in your year and a half long relationship, that skill of his had been a saving grace.

“no, don’t bother,” you croak. “i’ll book another room.”

“really?” he asks. he stands up a little straighter, awkwardly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “i mean, i don’t mind sharing a room with you… we’ve..”

we’ve shared a room countless of times before.

megumi doesn’t have to continue his sentence for you to understand what he’s implying. you part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out except for a long, heavy sigh. your shoulders drop as you let the exhaustion seep into your bones. there’s no use arguing about it, not when you don't’ mind sharing a room with megumi, either.

“we’ve broken up,” you remind him in a quiet voice, like you’re afraid saying it out loud will make it truer than it already is.

megumi pauses. you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “i know that, but … it’ll be fine. we’ve shared a room as friends before.”

he’s right, like he usually is. you two have shared a room before as just friends, but that had been as teenagers—back when you both harbored such hardcore crushes on each other that you two somehow didn’t notice.

“right,” you find yourself agreeing with a small nod.

“you should go get ready for bed.” megumi begins grabbing a few or the decorative pillow off of the bed. he places them gingerly on the brown couch tucked in the corner of the hotel room. “we’ll be getting up pretty early to deal with the brunt of the mission.”

to finish this mission as quickly as possible, you think.

and so you oblige and head to the bathroom. it’s december 19th, just a few days shy of christmas day, and you’re in bed with your ex boyfriend on the couch just a few feet away.

december 20th greets you with megumi hovering over you. he peers down at you with his messy bangs covering his eyes. they’re piercingly blue as he blinks. his lashes flutter perfectly, even in the early morning. your eyes meet his and you jolt awake.

“good morning,” he says. “your alarm has been ringing for a bit now, so i turned it off.”

you blink rapidly, getting the tiredness out of your eyes. “oh.”

he chuckles softly, just enough for you to catch it with your ears. he rises from his crouched position and heads to the front door. he spares you a glance over his shoulder before he heads out, presumably giving you the privacy you need. you let out a strangled breath before you swing your legs over the bed and head to the bathroom.

by the time you’re finished putting on your uniform, you swing the door to your hotel room open and see megumi leaned up against the wall, tapping away on his phone. his dark blue eyes flicker up to you and he turns away to head down the hall.

you furrow your brows. you can’t help but think that he’s being a little cold to you. it isn’t like you initiated the breakup. despite your frustration with his behavior, you can sort of understand why he wouldn’t want to be sweet around you; you two aren’t dating anymore and so it makes sense that he’d go back to being aloof in your presence, the usual way he acts around everyone else. losing that position in his life makes your stomach churn for reasons you’re less than willing to uncover.

your mission is a vague one; all you know is that it’s a clean-up mission. rather than a level 1 curse (or even a special grade), the mission consists of an acclimation of weak curses surrounding shinjuku. these missions are normally given to younger, more inexperienced sorcerers with the help of a senior sorcerer, but for an odd reason, it’s been given to you and megumi this year. megumi could’ve probably handled it himself. actually, you could’ve handled it yourself.

you bite your tongue to hold back on your complaints as you walk just a step behind megumi. he pauses regularly, waiting for you to catch up to his side. you roll your eyes in secret. does he not realize that you don’t want to walk next to him?

“it’s all just bars,” you mutter.

with that, you earn a tiny laugh from megumi. “well, yeah. this is the red-light district of shinjuku.”

you pale. “this sucks.”

“why do you think i wanted to come out here in the morning rather than at night?” he says, his tone strangely light.

“to deal with the brunt of the mission,” you repeat his words from last night sarcastically. you’re unsure as to what he’s talking about, so you think that it’s okay to give him a little bit of attitude.

he raises his brow but doesn’t comment on your sarcasm. instead, he says softly, “no, stupid. it’s because this is the red-light district. it’s unsafe for anyone, especially a pretty, young girl alone at night.”

your first thought is to coo and tease him. you think i’m pretty? it takes you half a second to remember that you two are broken up. you scoff, “i’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“i never said you weren’t,” megumi shoots back. “it would just be annoying explaining to the higher ups why you were fighting people and not curses.”

“i’m sure they’d understand,” you retort, frowning. you cross your arms.

“don’t be so pouty,” he says in that stupid, gentle tone he uses with you when you’re acting bratty.

you both decide to split up. well, it’s more like you demand the two of you to split up. you say it under the pretense that it’ll get the job done faster. besides, you both want to be home before christmas day, right?

there’s about two curses you cross paths with every hour. you’re starting to lose your mind. shouldn’t the streets be infested with them? you don’t even need a veil! all you have to do is give the weak curses just one punch and they vaporize on the spot. your head is running with hundreds of thoughts.

that’s when it hits you: the first years at the tokyo jujutsu school did come out here a week prior! maybe they did a bad job? but you remember nobara had been the one to lead the group. she may half-ass almost everything in her life, but she wouldn’t jeopardize her underclassmen for the sake of her freetime.

so why on earth are you here? it’s not like there are enough harmful curses for a mission to be assigned to you right before christmas, and to you and megumi of all sorcerers. you’re both strong enough to the point of having some kind of importance in the jujutsu world. the higher ups wouldn’t send the two of you on some stupid mission for the sake of it unless they’re planning some sort of secret execution. but even then, satoru gojo should’ve known through their lies to not send you or megumi. unless…he wants you two dead…?

you shake your head and bite your nails. the sun begins to set and you realize that you’ve been out here for longer than you expected. you’re starting to feel a chill in your bones—you had argued petulantly with megumi earlier about not wanting to wear your jacket despite it being the dead of winter; “it’s gonna get in the way!”

you always seem to forget the the sun sets earlier in the winter. it’s stupid how bright all the lights are in shinjuku. there isn’t a square foot of anything that isn’t lit up with neon signs reading out the names of clubs and bars. you see couples and large groups of people walking along the streets.

it’s lonely, you realize. it would’ve been less lonely with megumi.

you make your way to the meeting spot with megumi. you both share a few small words before retiring for the night. megumi says he wants to go sightseeing, even though there’s really nothing much to see. he doesn’t return to the hotel room until late at night.

when he slips into the only bed that the room offers, you chalk it up to the slight alcohol you smell on his lips. it feels so natural that you don’t push him away even though you should. his body is warm and you fit so perfectly against his broad chest that you think it’ll be okay for you to be a little selfish tonight.

“g’night,” megumi mumbles in his sleep.

you smile and nuzzle closer.

it’s december 21st as you realize how late it is in the day. megumi is back on the couch. you feel a tinge of disappointment in the bottom of your stomach.

to no one’s surprise, the sun is barely peeking over the buildings when you’re finally back in the red-light district. you’re doing the last bit of cleanup, but there’s really nothing much for you to clean.

tomorrow, you’ll be heading to a shopping mall, so you suppose you should do your best to sniff out the rest of the curses littering the place unless you want to stay here an extra day. the day is, yet again, slow.

it’s nearing 8 PM and you're finally sure that you’ve gotten rid of all the curses in the general area. you’ve been done for quite a while now, but you just haven’t found the courage to let megumi know that you’re ready to go back to the hotel room. a little sightseeing on your end wouldn’t hurt, right?

“hi, pretty.” a gravelly voice, battered by cigarettes, whispers in your ear.

you jump in surprise. you need to remember not to get too far into your head. you should’ve felt his presence coming from a mile away. it’s a terrible habit and satoru has scolded you for years about it.

“hi,” you mutter, pushing past his larger frame.

the man isn’t as nicely built as the men you know (but then again, your friends are jujutsu sorcerers, so it’s kind of hard to beat that), but he still towers over you. he’s got a squad of rough-looking guys behind him, smirking down at you.

“why’s someone like you alone?” he says, shoving his arm to loop around your waist.

you roll your eyes, getting ready to punch the man square in the nose. will you get in trouble? probably yes. will it be a funny story to tell? also probably yes.

“don’t touch my wife.”

the group of men turn their heads along with you to see megumi. his expression is shrouded with a mixture of anger and frustration. you blink in confusion—megumi usually looks pretty pissed off, but this is the most angry you’ve seen him in a while. and ‘wife’? what’s up with that?

“oh, my bad,” the man chuckles. “didn’t know this pretty thing was married.”

“this ‘pretty thing’ wants you to let her go,” you say with an overly sweet smile. your teeth clench and you hiss, “right now.”

the guy scurries down the sidewalk with his buddies trailing along, making fun of him for hitting on a married woman. nobody mentions the lack of a ring on your finger. nobody mentions the lack of a relationship, either.

“wife?” you scowl. “we’re broken up.”

“guys tend to back up when they know a woman is married. it’s the only way you can really, uh, get them to go away around here.”

you glare at him. “and how would you know? you come here often with girls?”

“...no?” he blinks, unable to comprehend your sudden burst of jealousy. “i sometimes get missions around here, though. pretending to be married was the easiest way—”

“we aren’t, though. we’re not even in a relationship.” you seem to be throwing that into his face a lot more than you should. you can’t help it, though. you still feel a little bitter about not getting a real reason as to why megumi wanted to break up.

“i was trying to help you.” he’s calm and collected, as heard through his voice. he walks up to you and takes your freezing hand into his much warmer ones. “let’s go home.”

“i don’t want to,” you argue.

“stop being a brat,” he says, but there’s no bite to his words. “you’re cold and you’ve been out here all day. if i hadn’t stopped those guys, you probably would’ve beat them up pretty badly.”

“i’m not a fucking brat!” you try to retract your hand, but megumi’s grip only tightens.

“baby, stop,” the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease. megumi sighs softly and pulls you to his chest. “why are you so worked up, hm?”

from the way he speaks, you can tell that he already has an inkling. the breakup. cuddling last night. hugging you now. everything.

you don’t realize you’re crying until he gently wipes his thumb under your eye. he has the audacity to have an amused grin plastered on his stupidly pretty lips. your vision is blurry but if it hadn’t been, you would’ve thrown a punch.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair. “it’s all my fault.”

“it is,” you whimper pathetically. all the tears and the emotions you’ve been holding back bubble up to the surface.

“don’t be upset,” he almost pleads. “let’s go back, okay?”

the night ends with megumi on the couch. neither of you bring up the argument or the fact that he had slept in your bed with you last night. you two don’t talk about the usage of pet names, either.

when you open your eyes on december 22nd, you’re surprised to see that megumi has already headed out for the day. you click your tongue in annoyance—he’s always been good at avoiding his problems when it comes to dealing with them, especially problems involving his emotions. you already know where you’re supposed to be headed, so you suppose that it’s for the best that he’d left before you.

the shopping mall is a long line of vendors and stores among other things. the snow on the ground is fresh—it must’ve snowed late last night after you’d fallen asleep. it crunches underneath your beat-up sneakers with each step you take. you’re not shocked when you end up wandering aimlessly, dipping in and out of stores with no real urgency to finish your mission.

there’s nothing to do anyway.

you’ve killed about 3 curses total and it’s really starting to look like you’ve been sent out here for busy work. you really should’ve figured that out the first day of the mission when you had to practically beg the curses to come out and fight you.

you find yourself in the front of a jewelry store, eyeing a pretty bracelet that you know would look stunning around megumi’s wrist. it’s one of those bracelets that clasp tightly. there’s a thicker band in the center with pretty carvings that seem to resemble some sort of swirly heart. it’s pretty, you have to admit.

without much thought, you buy the gift.

the seller has to clear her throat to get your attention when you don’t answer her question. “um, would you like this to be wrapped?”

you nod absentmindedly. “oh, yes. sorry. please wrap it.”

she nods in return and proceeds to wrap the bracelet in a tiny box, adorning it with a festive bow. you ask her to change it out for a different color, explaining that it isn’t a christmas gift and instead, it’s for someone’s birthday. she offers you a warm smile before switching it with a muted blue ribbon.

you return to the hotel, having to take an expensive taxi. you don’t mind—the bracelet has already made a decent-sized dent in your wallet. why not spend an extra amount on getting home? it’s not like jujutsu sorcerers are paid poorly.

reality hits you when you finally get back to the hotel room. you want to punch yourself for being so stupid. did you really just buy a birthday present for your ex-boyfriend?

you’re thankful that megumi hasn’t arrived yet. he seems to be determined to avoid you for as long as he can. you can’t blame him, either. you did give him quite a hard time yesterday.

you toss the box on to the dresser and head to the bathroom to splash some much needed cold water on to your face. maybe that’ll wake you up enough to clear your mind. you’ve acted out once during this trip already and you’re not really looking forward to any other possible outbursts.

you rinse your face and pat yourself dry with one of the face towels provided to you by the hotel staff. you hang it over the rack again and tiredly make your way to your bed. you halt your movements when you see megumi standing by the dresser, admiring your gift.

he looks up at you in surprise with the smallest grin on his face. it’s so subtle that you would’ve missed it had you not been dating him for nearly two years.

“is this for me?”

“no,” you quickly deny. his face falls and you cough out, “um, i mean.. yeah. i-i didn’t… i… happy birthday.”

he brightens, lips pulling up into a real, genuine smile. “you remembered?”

“why wouldn’t i?” you blurt gently. you bite your inner cheek to stop yourself from saying anything more.

“i dunno.” his voice is distant and low, like he’s trying to hold back his tears. “i just…i didn’t think i was deserving of a gift from you. thank you. i like it.”

you stand awkwardly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. “yeah, well…”

“can you help me put it on?” he asks, sitting at the edge of your unmade bed.

you feel your body heat up. part of you screams for you to stop. you shouldn’t do that. it’s far too intimate and you two are broken up. you’ve never been good at making decisions, though, so you sit next to him and feel the mattress dip.

he gives you a grateful look, one that you willfully ignore, and gives you his wrist. you clasp the bracelet on, fingertips just barely grazing his skin. your heart skips a beat and you have to inhale sharply before pulling away.

“thank you,” he whispers.

december 23rd is a sore reminder that life goes on. you had half-expected something to spark between you and megumi. perhaps he’d beg for you back, or maybe with less wishful thinking, he’d give you his real reason as to why he doesn’t want you anymore.

“i don’t think we need to go anymore,” megumi says when you come out of the bathroom after freshening up.

“huh? why not?”

“there’s nothing out there.” megumi’s voice is flat.

“i know, but we’ll get in trouble if we…”

“gojo probably sent us out here for fun.”

your lips part. megumi turns to you with a slight frown.

“don’t you think so too?” he asks, but you know it isn’t a question he’s looking to find an answer to. “why would the higher-ups assign a mission like this to a special grade sorcerer and a grade 1 sorcerer? if they needed that much manpower, this mission would’ve been deadlier. instead, we’re playing cleanup crew.”

“yeah, but..” you trail off, unable to think of a statement to refute his words. “if we go back now, we’ll get chewed out.”

“it’s just a scolding. you’ll be fine.” megumi stands up and stretches his arms.

you watch him cautiously as he begins to fold his clothes and throw them into his duffel bag. he doesn’t say anything else, letting the silence overtake the room.

“...are we leaving, then?” you ask meekly, not bothering to hide the slight quiver in your voice.

he pauses slightly. “do you want to stay here until christmas? this mission is stupid and you know it. there’s no point.”

why is his tone so cold all of the sudden? it’s as if you two hadn’t shared a moment last night before bed. does your gift not mean anything to him now that he’s cleared his mind with a good rest?

your eyes flicker to his wrist. the gold glimmers underneath the light and you realize that megumi doesn’t seem to hate wearing it. so why is he acting so … unpleasant?

you feel a lump in your throat. it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s able to upset you from just the tone of his voice. even his body language, usually fluid and smooth, is rigid with your presence. you want to tell him that you’ve enjoyed your time with him. you want to shake his shoulders and tell him that if you two cut your mission short, you might not get another chance to be near him again.

“do you still care about me?” you whisper instead.

he stills completely. “what?”

“this entire time,” you begin shakily, “you’ve been nice to me. you treat me like you always do. you’re always hovering over me even though you pretend you aren’t! you obviously still care, megumi.”

his adam's apple bobs as swallows. a beat of silence. then two. then three.

“i do care,” he admits sorely.

“then why did you break up with me?” you blurt. there it is, the question you’ve been meaning to ask. you both had seen it coming.

“because…” megumi winces as if he’s the one getting hurt from the ordeal. “because you deserve someone that’s normal. someone that isn’t a sorcerer. i can’t give you that life.”

you feel your chest swarm with anger. why does he always think he needs to sabotage himself to make others happy? this is something you’ve tried working with him on, but it seems like old habits are hard to kill off, just like your habit of loving him.

“why the hell would you decide that for me? when did i ever say i wanted a normal life?” you snap. your hands clench at your sides.

“it’s too early for this,” he says, his voice straining as he finally musters up the strength to look at you in your eyes.

“tell me, megumi. if that’s the real reason, then that is the most pathetic excuse for a breakup i've ever heard.” your voice cracks and you gulp down the oncoming sob that’s threatening to explode from your throat.

he inhales slowly and makes his way to you, holding you close against his chest. you should push him away, but you would rather let him hug you. you know that you can’t fight him, anyway.

“you…once said you wanted a regular relationship. when you got hurt a few weeks ago, i realized i couldn’t be that for you,” he confesses lowly. “i knew that you’d never find it in yourself to leave, so i figured i should just let you go for your sa–”

“are you kidding me?” you shout incredulously. “i said that when i was fifteen, megumi! before i even knew what being in love was like!”

he flinches against you. “but i…”

“you and your damn savior complex! i don’t need to be in a regular, normal relationship! i don’t need any of that, megumi! i’m a sorcerer, I won't ever get to be normal! in fact, it’s even better that i’m with you because you at least know what this life is like, you idiot! you’re always ruining the good things in your life because you—”

he takes his fingers to grab your chin and he pulls you in for a kiss. if the kiss is a ploy to shut you up, you hate to admit that it’s working. his tongue slips into your mouth and you melt against him. your arms loop around his neck as you desperately drag him down closer to your body. his hand grip your waist while the other clings to the small of your back.

you whimper out of instinct and he pulls away, lips bruised and breathless. it’s been so long since you’ve tasted him and you frown, tiptoeing to capture his lips again. you need to savor him, to feel him lips against yours again.

“baby, wait.” his chest heaves as he looks down at you. “don’t…don’t do this to me.”

“do what?” you ask, an edge to your voice. did he just reject you? even after all that?

“w-we gotta report back to—”

“we’re supposed to leave tomorrow,” you interrupt.

the gears shift in his head. “fine, but—”

“i’m still really fucking mad, but i just need you to kiss me right now,” you whine impatiently.

all megumi does is laugh when he swoops down to press his lips against yours.

it’s december 24th when you two find yourselves in satoru’s office. steam is practically rising from your ears as you try to compose yourself in front of your former teacher.

“... i wanted a wedding invitation.” satoru shrugs.

“you set us up!” you whine angrily. “gojo, are you serious?! isn’t this a little immature?”

megumi stays silent, averting his gaze. he suddenly finds the succulents on satoru’s desk very interesting. he’s never noticed that they’re all nearly dead! how cool.

your eyes shoot daggers at megumi's silence.

"we aren't gonna get married any time soon..." megumi mutters when he feels your pointy glare on him.

satoru raises his hands in mock surrender. “you two can’t blame me! it worked out! you two are back together now, right?”

“but did you have to make us look like fools out there?” you groan.

“you should’ve figured it out on the first day that the mission was a sham!” satoru exclaims, offense taking over his features.

“but still!” you’re borderline hysterical at this point, unable to believe that your former teacher of all people had to set up an entire fake mission so that you and your ex could talk your feelings out. “we would’ve figured ourselves out sooner or later!”

megumi nods. he feels like he should at least give you a little support even if he’s embarrassed out of his mind.

“oh really?” satoru’s voice drips with sarcasm. “you guys should be thanking me—”

“you’re so not getting an invitation to our wedding!” you grumble.

“wha—hey! i’m the one that got you two back together! besides, i’m megumi’s guardian! you can’t just not invite me.”

“watch me!”

“megumi, tell her that she can’t do that—hey! where are you guys going? invite me, you rascals—why are you guys leaving? we aren’t done discussing this! megumi, don’t you dare take her side! she isn’t even your wife yet—don’t slam my door!”

[headspace-hotel]

I have an essay brewing in my head constantly about lawns. Which, well, unsurprising, since I post about how I hate lawns all the time, but I think the "lawn" and "landscaping" centered way of thinking about Places Outside is a Bigger Thing that Connects to Other Things

(What isn't? Having ideas about concepts is always like this.)

I will introduce my ideas by a situation where they apply: Sometimes life-forms mimic other life forms. One form of mimicry is called Vavilovian mimicry, where weed species in crops grown by humans evolve over time to be more similar to the crops.

Vavilovian mimicry basically helps weeds survive because the weeds are adapted to the care-taking regimen of the crops, and because the human caretakers of the crop can have a hard time telling them apart, which means they might say "Ehh...I'll wait until it grows up so I can be sure I'm not pulling up my crop."

I think there's something similar at work among flower gardens and landscaping...but it's different.

Regular people don't know the name of every plant that might possibly grow in their flower beds, and they often pull up plants they don't know just because they don't know them. They sometimes say they pull up a plant that "looks weedy" or "looks like a weed."

I think to myself...what does "weedy" look like?

This question collided unexpectedly in my brain with an insight I had about invasive species that I could not explain.

I have to get rid of a lot of Callery pear, wintercreeper, honeysuckle, burningbush, privet, English ivy, and other plants that are invasive where I live. And strangely- many invasive plants look similar in ways they don't share with very many native species. They tend to have small, round or squat, glossy leaves, and they tend to have a very dense growth habit.

I can think of several possible explanations: Maybe these species thrive in North America today because of the loss of controlled burning, but their characteristics look so distinct next to native species because they relate to things that would make a species fire-intolerant? This doesn't seem quite right, since it doesn't predict level of fire-adaptedness in native species.

Another explanation is better: they were selected for these traits by humans for their usefulness in landscaping. Dense growth habit would be useful for creating hedges or ground covers. This is why many invasives were originally planted, right? And small leaves might feel or be perceived as less "messy" when they fall.

But I think this is a clue to something else going on. What does "weedy" look like?

Some plants go on one side of "weeds vs. flowers" and some on the other, and it's almost totally arbitrary...so how do gardeners make the call so decisively?

I think about the commonest "landscaping" plants- Knock Out roses, hostas, petunias, begonias, boxwoods and so on- they share a lot of the characteristics mentioned above. Shiny or at least smooth, typically small and squat leaves, dense and compact growth habit.

Then I think about some of the commonest and most important "weedy" native wildflowers, such as goldenrods, asters, milkweeds, Joe-Pye weed, ironweed, sunflower. They all differ from the above in at least one striking way. Mostly, they have hairy leaves and stems, long and thin leaves, and a tendency to grow up tall before blooming. Milkweed has smooth leaves, but its leaves are long and very big. Hmm...

And I think I can guess where this is coming from.

Landscaping and garden designs often look like this

See how the plants are drawn and arranged to cover a space in two dimensions, mostly not overlapping with each other? This is very easy to plan and design. And those common landscaping plants I mentioned—hostas, Knock Out roses, boxwoods, and so on—are very good at acting just like a two-dimensional representation of them does. Just look, you can see them:

Now look at those important native wildflowers I mentioned:

Goldenrod

Ironweed

Milkweed

These guys don't fill much space in a horizontal plane, they go straight up. They don't exclude other plants from very much space either. Plants could grow under them and among them. So they're not very good for "filling up" space, and their opener, lankier, less dense shape doesn't do a good job at blocking other plants from growing.

In a garden of North American prairie- or meadow-adapted plants, the plants wouldn't exclude each other and stay within their designated spots because they're evolved to intermix with a great variety of plants.

"Separateness" is a big part of the typical "landscape" aesthetic. These plants are very neatly separate from each other. This is what looks "neat" and well-kept to us...the opposite of "weedy."

This could mean our garden and flower beds are affected by a selective pressure a lot like the Vavilovian mimicry situation. But instead of weeds being selected to look like intentionally grown plants, the intentionally grown plants are being selected to look different from weeds.

The subtle difference makes perfect sense. In a field, the rule is "leave the plant there if you're unsure" because that's your food. In a flower bed, the rule is "get rid of the plant if you're unsure" because having weeds is more aesthetically unacceptable than having blank space.

The point is: Ecology needs to be a big part of gardening and landscaping, because you are DOING ecology. Even if you don't know the evolutionary principles, you're acting them out.

Just like the ineffable preferences of female birds give the males weird elaborate display structures, ineffable aesthetic "senses" that govern our "built" world slowly turn it into something weird.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Balé Bruce taking female readers virginity? It can be headcanon or story. Ty!

Bruce taking your virginity ♡

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A/N: I'm so sorry this took me so long, please forgive me 😭🩷 this is like a weird merge between headcannons and a story lol

《Warnings》: smut (obvi), very sweet and gentle Bruce <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

To say he'd be gentle would be an understatement. You'll be treated as absolutely royalty, touches so soft and tender you can barely feel them.

He'd be extremely honored and giddy that you want him to be your first. The fact that you trust him so much despite his reputation makes his heart beat faster and his cock twitch.

It's safe to say he's not a virgin, and boy, does he know what he's doing!!

He'd take you out on a nice date first, most likely a very nice restaurant. Bruce wasn't usually the romantic type when it came to relationships (if you can even call them that) but he loves you, truly loves you, and he wants to make this special for you.

I don't think he'd go the full 9 yards with rose petals and candles, but it's definitely still a very soft and romantic atmosphere.

Bruce would be insistent that you don't have a single sip of alcohol that night. Yes, you've been together for a while, but this is a big step, and he wants to make 10000% sure that this is what you want. No drinks for either of you that night.

So, he'd take you out on a fun night, have you get all dolled up and then drive around with you for a bit, the lights of a Gotham night reflecting in the windows of his very expensive car. Just something to take the edge off.

You're obviously very comfortable around each other, and he's probably seen you naked at one point anyway, but sex is a completely new form of intimacy.

He'd help you undress and place soft kisses on your skin. You'd lay in bed for a while, not completely naked yet, but still very much undressed. Just enjoying each other's company while the flame of lust and desperation slowly grows and grows. Maybe he'd tell you some of his weird or embarrassing sex stories that he (undoubtedly) had at one point just to make you less nervous.

Sex can be messy, clumsy, ungraceful, and sloppy. He wants you to know that there's nothing to be ashamed about and to always voice and concerns or wishes you may have.

He's gently caressing the skin of your arm as you both lay on your sides, facing each other, as you talk about whatever comes to mind. There's a little lamp on in the corner of the room, bathing the room in a soft golden glow.

He can't help but stare in awe as he follows the light reflecting off your features as your lips move. His hand trails lower, settling on stroking your waist, and when he hears you stop talking he searches for any sign of discomfort on your face but is only met with blushed cheeks and your breathing slightly picking up.

Bruce smiles softly and and gently tugs you closer to his chest, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. There are wandering hands, clumsy attempts at keeping your lips connected and the overwhelming urge to just touch. He'd ask you one final time if you're sure about this, that he would stop immediately if you asked him to.

The second you give him the go-ahead, he's almost bursting with excitement. He can't wait to explore this new side of you to figure out what you like and what makes you weak in the knees. His hands explore your body, caressing and teasing your sensitive spots whole his lips are attached to your neck.

He tugs off any remaining garments you had on and makes his way down your stomach, brushing his lips over your soft flesh. And, yes, he will eat you out for your first time (definitely not because he's a munch and has been thinking about this for months) maybe he'd make you come on his tongue, but he doesn't want to overwhelm you so he'll just tease you and rile you up until you're dripping with a fog of pleasure clouding your senses.

He'll gently ease his fingers inside of you one by one, getting you used to the feeling of having something inside of you. He'll switch between holding your hand and circling your clit with his thumb. He watches your face like a hawk for any indication that you're uncomfortable or, god forbid, in any pain.

And if you end up coming around his fingers, that's okay. He didn't really set himself any goals for this, like getting 5 orgasms out of you in 10 minutes or anything like that, he just wants you to feel good and loved.

If you don't come around his fingers, that's okay, too. What happens, happens, what doesn't, doesn't. As long as you're satisfied in the end, he doesn't care.

Expect to get like a thousand kisses and him telling you how much he loves you every second.

Bruce insists on missionary (it's his favorite position, but only with you) because the closeness and intimacy is very important to him during your first time. He will always have a safe word, it'll be just stop most of the time. It's easy to remember because it's the first thing you think of when it gets too much anyway.

Because, let's be honest, you're not gonna remember rhubarb-vanilla crumble or something ridiculous like that.

He's been ignoring his raging hard-on, purely because he just can't take his eyes off you. You look absolutely divine underneath him, your pretty features contorted in bliss. He's already been making mental notes to what really makes you melt. And then the moment finally arrives and he gently pushes himself inside of you, tightly grasping your hand.

Communication is really important to him (not only during sex) so I'm afraid you won't get any kisses until he's 100% sure that you're okay. He needs to hear you loud and clear, whether you want him to slow down, start moving, to angle his hips differently. This is all about you tonight.

But the second he's found a good and steady rhythm and has you mewling with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, he's smashing his lips on yours. Bruce would lay his entire weight on you, chests pressed together because he needs to be closer to you. It's not close enough for him, but it'll have to do.

But don't think this isn't affecting him, sex with love is way different than the hook-ups he had. He's panting like a dog, messy hair and dilated pupils. He's absolutely drowning in pleasure, reaching the deepest parts of you while your fingers are still firmly laced together. He'd be very insistent that you come together (he's probably the one that has to hold himself back) and he'd stroke your clit or suck on your tits, whatever tips you over the edge.

I believe the closer he gets to coming undone, the more incoherent babbles of love spill from his lips. It's all desperate and needy "I love you"s in between moans and groans. There are definitely night where he was more control, but this one is not one of them.

After he's brought you earthshattering bliss, and he tiped over the edge himself (he'd preferably come inside of you, but he wouldn't mind pulling out if that's what you wanted) he'll lay down with you. There's no rush, just the two of you gently coming out of your haze of pleasure.

Bruce can't ever shut up, which makes him the king of pillowtalk. You'll just take for a little while, make sure you're both okay before it's time to clean up and get ready for bed.

Depending on how deep you're into the evening, he'll either gently wipe you down with either a damp towel, make sure you're both getting some water, or he'll straight up pamper you with a full bath. I'm talking candles, bubbles, lots of differently scented soaps, and ,of course, his arms around you.

It's all very intimate and loving with tons of soft kisses to your temples, forehead or lips. After you're dried off, you'll help each other slip into your sleep attire before absolutely knocking out for a good 9 hours and waking up in the loving embrace of your lover with the sun kissing your cheeks.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Hope you liked it, anon! <3

《Tag list》: @allysunny @certifiedredhoodlover @hellonheels-x @gaozorous-rex-blog

Lmk if you want to be added to my DC tag list! (Currently entails Bale!Bruce and Jason Todd)

[scary-grace]

#61 for man door hand hook car door

Hi Scarlett! Thank you so much for the prompt from this list (I'm still taking these!). This one took me a bit but I hope you like it! No quirks AU, fluff, sickfic, totally not inspired by anything happening in real life. 2.3k words.

61) “I’ll pick it up after work.”

Your phone rings while you’re on your lunch break, and you pick it up without looking. “Hey, this is –”

“Kill me.”

It’s your boyfriend. Your boyfriend never calls – only texts, because he needs to edit himself before he sends anything. “Hey, Tomura. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” Tomura’s usually raspy voice sounds distinctly nasal. “I was mouth-breathing on you all night. How did you not smother me?”

“Would you have smothered me?”

“No,” Tomura groans. “It wouldn’t be any different than your snoring.”

“I don’t snore!”

“Yes, you do. I like it. It’s cheaper than buying a white-noise machine.” Tomura coughs. It sounds like he’s making an effort not to cough into the phone, but it’s not much of one. “This sucks.”

“Yeah,” you agree. “I’m really sorry. You wouldn’t have gotten it if I hadn’t made us go to that party.”

“Yeah, maybe not.” Tomura coughs again. “But we agreed. Rules are rules.”

You knew when you and Tomura started dating that he wasn’t much for parties, but he was also able to admit that the occasional party is necessary, and you used one of the three parties you’re allowed to drag him to per year on bringing him to your friend’s engagement party. Said engagement party got a little messy. A little rowdy. A little drink-sharey, which you’re pretty sure is what got Tomura – during some horrible round of mystery cocktail hot potato, he somehow got stuck finishing almost every drink. You helped him out with most of them, but your immune system is bombproof. If one of you was going to get sick, it was always going to be him.

He went to work yesterday, but stayed home today. He was worse this morning than he was last night. “Rules are rules, but I still feel bad,” you say. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Come home and kill me.”

“Other than that,” you say, and Tomura grumbles. “Seriously. Is there something?”

It’s quiet for a second. “Yeah,” Tomura admits. “If you’re not going to kill me –”

“I’m not.”

“Can you grab my stupid prescription? I went to the urgent care and they sent it to the wrong pharmacy.” Tomura’s coughing gets louder, then softer, while you try to avoid saying something dumb out of sheer shock that he’d go to the doctor at all. “It’s far away and I’m tired. Can you grab it?”

“Which pharmacy?” You put your phone on speaker and look up the address. “That’s on the other side of the city. How did they mess it up that bad?”

“Maybe I said it wrong. I forgot my address for a second when I was checking in,” Tomura mumbles. “It sucked in there. It took forever to get seen because there were a bunch of kids ahead of me with marbles stuck up their noses.”

“With – what?”

“Marbles. Up their noses. At a sleepover. It was a dare,” Tomura says. You can hear just how pissed he is about it – or how pissed he would be, if he wasn’t too fatigued to be pissed. “I don’t know why they got to be seen first. My breathing was more obstructed than theirs.”

You try to imagine this – your sick, crabby boyfriend sharing a waiting room with a birthday party’s worth of kids with marbles jammed up their nostrils. It’s hard to picture. “Did you have to wait a while?”

“It felt like a while,” Tomura says. “Wish you’d been there. It would have sucked less.”

If he’d told you he was going, you’d probably have taken off work to go with him. “I wish I’d been there, too,” you say. You lean back against the wall. “I’ll pick it up after work. Is there anything else you need?”

“A cyanide capsule.”

“I don’t think they sell those at the convenience store,” you say. Tomura grumbles again, and you pause for a moment. “Promise me something. Before you kill yourself, at least let me go on a quest to far distant lands to retrieve the cure.”

“I asked you to get the antibiotics, didn’t I?” Tomura’s voice is muffled. “Problem solved.”

“Not just this time. Any time, Tomura,” you say. You and he have had this conversation before, and you’ve gotten better at talking about it. You know his jokes about killing himself are jokes, but you also know they’re a habit, and it’s not a good habit to be in. “Always give me a shot at the quest first.”

“Yeah.” Tomura’s voice is quieter. “You’re busy, right? Go do something or they’ll make you stay later.”

You don’t want to get off the phone, but you do need to eat. And then you need to race through the rest of your work for the day – or do you? Either way, you need to get off the phone. You check the address for the pharmacy one more time. “Okay. I have to go. Just try to rest.”

“I should have gotten you sick, too.” Tomura sounds incredibly mopey, which is what you’d be, if you had the symptoms he’s having. “Then you’d have to stay home with me.”

“Okay, but if I was sick, who would take care of you?”

“Me.”

“You’re also sick.”

“Shit.” Tomura’s hitting his head against the pillow. You can tell by the rustling. “I’m hanging up before I say anything else stupid. Love you.”

“I love you, too,” you say. You hang up the phone. Then you go back inside to talk to your boss.

_________________________________________________________

Tomura shouldn’t have gone to the stupid urgent care. He got the prescription, sure, but it came at the cost of an hour in a packed waiting room, three separate lectures about getting a primary care provider, a cotton swab down the back of his throat to check for strep even though he doesn’t have a sore throat, and a bunch of questions that weren’t even sort of relevant to why he was there. It sapped all his energy and probably exposed him to twenty more diseases than he already has, and he didn’t even get the antibiotics. He had to ask you to get them, and that means it’ll be even longer before you get home.

Tomura’s not an idiot. He knows you don’t have some kind of magical healing powers that can make his headache and cough and congestion go away just by touching him, but he feels better when you’re here, no matter what you’re doing, no matter what’s wrong with him. Tomura’s not an idiot, but he’s also not naïve. He knows he was shooting for the moon when he slid into your DMs. He never expected it to work.

And part of him is still convinced it hasn’t worked, even though you’ve been together for two years and living together for one. It’s not his low self-esteem telling him you’re too good for him – it’s observable fact. You’re smart and hardworking but sneaky about it, so you never have to do more work than you have to, and you’re pretty and cute but you’re also hot, which are things that should go together but don’t go together in real life, and Tomura knows that whenever people look at the two of you together they’re asking themselves the same question. What are you doing? What are you doing with him?

Tomura asks himself that same question every week or so. He still hasn’t worked it out. But he has a feeling it has to do with the fact that he’s able to pull his weight, which he hasn’t been doing since Sunday morning, when he woke up the morning after your stupid friend’s engagement party with an itch in the back of his throat. And then he piled on by making you pick up his prescription. You must be pissed. So what if you didn’t sound pissed on the phone? You must be. Tomura would – no, Tomura wouldn’t. He likes when he can do stuff for you, because it makes you happy, and he wants you to be happy, because he loves you. What is he thinking?

Nothing that makes any sense, so he should probably stop. Tomura brushes the piles of wadded-up tissues into the wastebasket by the bed, then curls up under the blankets on your side. He should get some sleep. It’s just past noon. You’re not going to be home until six. Maybe he’ll feel a little better on the other side of a six-hour nap.

Tomura falls asleep facing your digital alarm clock, so when he hears the apartment door unlock itself and opens his eyes, the first thing he sees is the time. It’s not six. It’s two. Why are you home so early? He can tell that you’re trying to be quiet as you take off your shoes. Maybe you’re trying not to wake him, but he’s already awake. He should let you know

“You –” Tomura starts, then coughs. His voice still sounds like shit, so he coughs again, which turns into a coughing fit, and by then you’re in the doorway. He peers at you through eyes that feel blurrier than they should. “You came back early.”

“I really shouldn’t have gone in at all today,” you say. “When I told my boss your symptoms, she sent me home. Apparently I could be contagious.”

You’re smirking a little bit. Tomura has a feeling you did more than just tell your boss his symptoms, but he doesn’t give a shit. You’re home. “I got your prescription,” you continue, shaking a paper bag, “and I got frozen yogurt instead of a probiotic so you don’t have to take an extra pill. I also got fancy tissues – and ingredients for real ramen if you want that and instant ramen if you don’t – and –”

All of that was one bag. Tomura recognizes the other one instantly – it’s from his favorite game store. “What did you do?”

“New headset,” you say. “You keep saying the one you have hurts your head. If it hurts your head on a regular basis, it probably hurts it even more now – and I know the one you want, so I figured I’d get it. In case you felt like gaming at all.”

Tomura should probably say something. Thank you would probably be a good start, but all he can do is stare at you and cough a little bit. You don’t seem worried about it. You duck out of the bedroom, then come back with a glass of water, a cup of frozen yogurt, and a spoon. You set the antibiotics down next to it and head over to the closet to change out of your work clothes.

Tomura tries to pay attention to the frozen yogurt – using a spoon feels like it requires all of his concentration right now – but he can’t stop glancing over at you. You look good in your work clothes, but Tomura likes it best when you’re comfortable, because you always look good to him and when you’re comfortable you don’t waste time worrying about it. It doesn’t hurt that most of your comfortable clothes were Tomura’s clothes at some point. The pajamas you settle on are half-yours, half-his. Your shorts, which Tomura likes because the elastic waistband is easier to get through than a drawstring is, and his shirt, which he likes because you stole it from him within the first month the two of you were dating and never gave it back.

It takes a spoonful of yogurt nearly sliding off the spoon and into his lap for Tomura to remember what he’s supposed to be doing. He shovels in a few more bites of yogurt, then downs the pill and flops back on the bed, just as you get into bed on what’s usually his side. “You stole my spot,” you say. “What’s that about?”

“Your side is better.”

“That’s not what you said when we moved in,” you point out. “You talked a lot of shit about my side being the worst one.”

“It is. Usually.” Tomura doesn’t want to admit this. He feels like a dumbass. “It smells like you.”

You look surprised. “You can smell stuff right now?”

“Only on one side,” Tomura says, and you laugh. You come closer, too, settling down in bed next to him, and wrapping your arms carefully around him. “You sure you want to do this? What if you get sick?”

“You’ll be done being sick by the time I get it, if I get it,” you say. You kiss Tomura’s cheek, then test his forehead with the back of your hand before brushing his hair out of his face. “I don’t think I will. But if I do get it, then you can take care of me.”

Tomura thinks he could do that. He wouldn’t be as good at it as you are, but you’re giving him a really good tutorial right now. He’s paying attention. Sort of. “I’d say I’m looking forward to it, but you’d have to get sick, so I’m not. Because I don’t want you to be sick. But I would take care of you. I want to, but I don’t want to have to, if that makes sense. It doesn’t make sense. I just – fuck.”

“It’s okay,” you say. You’re smiling at him. “Just get some rest. I could use a nap, too.”

“Yeah.” Tomura wants to talk to you more, wants to hear how your day was going before he ruined it, but now that you’re here, all he wants is to sleep. He sleeps better when you’re here. “Okay.”

The coughing’s not as bad when he isn’t trying to talk. Tomura closes his eyes and slumps against you. “Love you,” he mumbles, and he stays awake just long enough to hear you say it back.

[anarcoqueer1994]

I need more of Eddie telling the band! Need it! Fix my brusied heart! Fix Steve's bruised heart! Tell me that he's everything! He is everything!!

Part 1 here.

Hope this fixes it <3 I'm going to admit my toxic trait is being angsty and not always being the best at fixing it. But I hope this is good. Thank you for reading!!

"Dude, what was that?" Gareth finally breaks the awkward silence between the 4 of them. They all look at Eddie.

He presses his palms to his eyes until he can see little white dots when he opens them again to stare at his three best friends. He feels like dirt. Actually less than dirt. He cared so much about what they would think of his dating Steve, that not only did hurt his favorite person in the whole world, but he did not even trust his friends enough to give them a chance. He finally lets out a sigh before saying "That was me fucking up. Like royally fucking up.".

"You going to explain, maybe?" Jeff asks, slowly putting the pieces together but confirmation from Eddie would be nice.

"I, um, I mean Steve and I have been seeing each other for the past 6 months, since Spring Break actually." Eddie finally says, holding his breath, waiting for a response.

"You guys have been seeing each other for six months?" Garreth parrots back in disbelief.

"Yea. He's my boyfriend...well he was. I actually don't know now." Eddie says sadly.

"You have been together for like half a year, and you didn't tell us, why?" Caleb asks, confused in why Eddie would hide this.

"I don’t know, man. It's just, in high school we would talk so much shit about people like Steve. And I know Steve better now, so I know how much of a great guy he is but like he is still an ex-jock. And I was worried about, you know." He mumbles.

"You were worried what we would think. Man, what is wrong with you?" Jeff laughs. "Eddie Munson isn't supposed to care what people think, even your loser friends."

'Besides, if you say he's good, we trust you, okay?" Gareth adds. "But I do have a couple of questions."

Eddie can't help but smile at his friends, even though his stomach still hurts thinking about the look on Steve’s face from a few minutes prior. But he indulges Gareth. "Ask away, I guess I owe you guys."

"Does he treat you alright?" Gareth asks simply.

Eddie nods softly. "He treats me better than anyone I've ever been with. He's always so soft and gentle with me. I swear, he looks at me like I'm something special, and I don't know why. Sometimes I don't think I deserve it."

"Do you love him?" Gareth follows up.

"God, more than anything." Eddie says with out hesitatation.

"And do you think he loves you?" He asks simply.

"I know he loves me. He tells me ever day." And not just with his words, but with his actions too. Steve shows Eddie he loves him every day with all the little things does for him.

"Then why are you still sitting down here, dude?" Gareth asks. "You better go and fix this before you lose him." He says it likes its the most obvious thing in the world.

Eddie hurriedly nods. Gareth is right. He has to talk to Steve, like now. He practically jumps up from the table, nearly tripping as does.

As he runs past his friends and up the steps, he looks at the cupcakes Steve had sat down on the small table by the steps. They looked homemade, a little messy but perfect. Steve had piped little silly hearts on them all, and in the center were little frosting dice. He can't help the way it makes his heart skip a beat. Steve was ridiculously romantic, and Eddie loves that.

He continues up the steps, two at a time, hoping Steve and the kids are up there, but they aren't. He frantically makes his way to door, only to see them sitting in Steve’s car through the window, still in the driveway. He's relieved.

As soon as he opens the door, all their eyes shoot up. He can see the look on Steve’s face, obviously trying to hold back tears. Even now, Steve is trying to be strong with the kids. Their eyes though looked like they could kill Eddie, even Dustin. He fucked up badly.

He nervously makes his way over to Steve's open window. When he gets there, Steve doesn't say a word, doesn't even look at him, just stares forward. Eddie tries anyway. "Stevie, can we talk...please? Alone?" He looks at the other 4 in the car.

Steve squeezes the wheel harder. He knows if he talks, he will start crying. And he doesn't want to do that in front of Eddie. Fuck, this hurts so bad. It felt like when Nancy called him and his love bullshit all over again. He is bullshit...he is nothing. Just a washed up ex jock, who is just there when people need him. He doesn't get the happy ending, the true love.

Dustin speaks up "You're an asshole, man. Go away." Not even Mike speaks up to defend him. Who does though, surprises him.

"He's not...." Steve whispers, unable to speak any louder. Steve can't see it, but Eddie sees all the looks of pitty shot at him. Eddie knows Steve shouldn't be defending him, but he is.

"No, Stevie. I am. I am an asshole. And I'm so sorry. Please can we talk?" Eddie begs.

Steve lets out a sigh before turning to the "kids." "Go on. It's fine. Go and clean up your shit so Mrs. Wheeler isn't mad." He tries to say in a straight voice.

They reluctantly get out but still shoot Eddie dirty glances as they head in. Eddie nervously walks to the passenger side and gets in.

"What do you want to talk about?" Steve chokes out, still not looking at him.

"What I said in there wasn't the truth. Steve, baby...I am so sorry. I did not mean it..." He tries pathetically.

Steve's hands are shaking as they stay rested on the steering wheel. He finally turns his head to look at Eddie. "Then why did you say it, Eddie? If you didn't mean it, why did you say it?!" His voices cracks, as a little tear escapes, running down his cheek.

All Eddie wants to do is reach over and wipe it away, but he thinks better of it. "Because I'm an idiot, sweetheart." He replies softly. "I shouldn't have hidden us, but today everyone was ganging up on me, and I got overwhelmed...and it just came out. You are not nothing, baby."

"Come on, Eddie! There had to be some truth to it, or it wouldn't have come out. I am not an idiot." Steve says in his bitchiest voice, his wall going up, trying to protect himself from more hurt.

It feels like a punch to his gut. Eddie really made Steve believe their could be some truth in his words. "Steve....I promise you, I was just being some vain asshole, too worried about my reputation as a cool metalhead." He says, knowing how lame it sounds to say out loud. "How could I, Eddie "the freak" Munson, possibly have ended up with the prettiest boy in school."

"What you said was fucked up, you know..." another tear escaping, but the punch is gone from his words.

"I know...I know. I am so sorry, princess. I'll do anything to make it up to you." Eddie pleads softly.

Steve gives him a sad smile, anger melting away leaving only hurt. "I'm just having a hard time believing that I'm not nothing...I mean, you didn't want to tell your friends. And like, I know I can be a little much sometimes, and overbearing. And I'm sorry if I embarrassed you...."He whispers. He feels like nothing, like bullshit, like trash. He isn't endgame, he's never anyone's endgame.

Hearing Steve Harrington apologize for being embarrassing makes Eddie feel like he is in some alternate dimension, maybe he never left the upside down. But more concerningly, to hear Steve sound so small, broke him. Steve was the bravest, sweetest, bitchiest, protective, hottest person he knew but right now, Steve felt small. And it destroyed him to know he caused this. He caused Steve to feel unimportant...unloved. and he had promised himself that he would never do that to him.

He reaches over and grabs Steve's hand, squeezing softly. "God, baby, you have nothing to be sorry for. I am the one who was so self centered, that I did the worst thing I have ever done. I hurt you." He moves his other hand to Steve's cheek, and to his relief, Steve leans into, doesn't pull away. "I somehow made the person who is everything to me, feel like nothing. And that just won't do."

"Eds..." Steve whispers.

"Stevie, I promise you, I will spend everyday trying to make it up to you."

"You...you don't have to...." Steve says softly, sadly.

"Yea, I do. Because Steve, you are everything. You are it for me, sweetheart. There is not a single day I will let go by without you knowing that. I will never let anyone, including myself, make you feel like you are nothing." Eddie leans closer, resting his forehead against Steve's.

By this point, tears were freely falling down Steve’s face. But now he's smiling, even laughing a little. "You are such a sap, Eddie." He jokes before leaning in and placing a tiny kiss against Eddie's lips. "And I love you so much."

Eddie feels a million times lighter as he keeps holding Steve. "I love you too, baby. And you are everything...you are everything....you are everything. " He repeats as I to make sure Steve understands how true it is, not leaving any room for doubt in Steve’s head.

Thank you for reading again! Also side note, did not want to drag this out but definitely see the others eating all the cupcakes downstairs, leaving only one and Steve and Eddie share it.

Tag list (you all are so sweat) There are more but the max mentions was 50. I will reboot and add more

@notsopretty-notsopink @pukner @justforthedead89 @lololol-1234 @little-crickett @thing-a-ling @swimmingbirdrunningrock @oldwitcheshat @my-baek-hurts @thequeenrainacorn @derangedhermit @plantzzsandpencilzzs @littlewildflowerkitten @ronance-is-my-wife @xjessicafaithx @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @sofadofax @just-a-tiny-void @whalesharksart @death-thee-nervousqueer @estrellami-1 @starman-jpg @oblivion-void @thequeenauden @thealwithnoname @sapphirecobalt-1 @thelady-mary @silentlycorrectingyourgrammar85 @theluckyalien @cheeseyberg @breealtair @messrs-weasley @heartthingsstuff @paintsplatteredandimperfect @tillystealeaves @pearynice @bela-valdis @beckkthewreck @breadboi66 @th30ra3k3n @0o-queendean-o0 @spideysteveloml @lauras2912 @seths-rogens @lovely-little-lass @envyadams-vs-me @meccaminayah @heartstarstar-blog @weirdandabsurd42 @virginlemontea @stevesbipanic @yulecogs

@sereinpetrichor @kittycat1810

[themusingsofacurlyhairednerd]

Hang on, I have an interesting (to me at least lol) thought about vamp! Rhys.

What the hell would he do with reader being on her period when she’s still human??

Am I asking this because I am on my period reading your vampire! Rhys fics… possibly… he’s just so hot 🫠and I wanna bite him affectionately lol💀

It’s a really good question in my opinion lol

This has been sitting half finished in my drafts and now I'm on my period and asking the same questions! But don't worry, I have some answers for you ;)

----------

Messy

Content Warnings: Fluff-SMUT-more fluff; Period Sex, Blood Play, Oral (fem receiving)

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You should have known something was up when Rhys had woken you up every morning for the last week with his fangs nipping at your throat, his sleep thick voice murmuring how good you smelled into your skin before taking the faintest of tastes. You write it off as him finally coming to terms with how he feels about you being human and embracing this new comfortability in your relationship, at first. But then you randomly catch him staring at you throughout the day, his gaze dark, pupils blown wide. He wouldn't do anything about it either. Usually, when he looks like that you find yourself flush against a wall, but these last few days he's just staring. Like he's waiting for something.

Then one night he asks you if you're in the mood for chocolate and comes back with a whole tray of ice cream and cookies and expensive looking candies and you're absolutely sure he's lost his mind.

You have half a mind to ask Mor if there's some weird dating ritual vampires have that you don't know about, because there's suddenly a lot more pillows and comfy blankets in your bed the morning after that. Along with a tray of some weird tea you've never seen before, and more boxes of chocolate things you can't name. But you don't even make it to Mor's wing of the house before Rhys waltzes into the bedroom you share with his arms full of towels and you simply cannot take it anymore.

"Rhys what are you doing?"

He takes his time folding them, studying each towel like it holds the mysteries of the universe within it. "Preparing."

"For what?" You ask incredulously, because he's clearly in on some secret you've never heard of.

He cocks his head to the side, looking very confused as to why you're asking. "Is it not almost your time of the month?"

That doesn't make his behavior any less confusing, but you run a hand through your hair in thought. It should be starting any day now, now that you think about it. "You've been keeping track of my period?"

He takes the perfectly folded towels and puts them under the bathroom sink for safe keeping as he says, "Of course. What kind of partner would I be if I didn't?"

You follow after him, still wildly confused. It's not like he can get you pregnant, there's no need for him to be keeping track. "But why?"

He frowns at that. "You were in a lot of pain last time, I wanted to help make it easier this time around."

Your heart clenches in your chest and you step forward to place a gentle kiss on his lips. "That's really sweet of you."

"I hate to see you in pain," he says, catching your face in his hands. "I don't really remember how the human body works, but I found some books in the library about what might help, since my blood didn't work last time."

He'd been very concerned about the amount of cramping you endured last month, even more so when it turned out Vampire blood was not in fact a cure all for every human ailment. It could fix a cold, but for some reason, it hadn't worked so well on your cramps.

Maybe it's your hormones, but you tear up a little at the thought of him rifling through the library trying to find the right book to help you. "That would explain all the chocolate and the tea."

"The books said they helped," he sweeps you up into his arms so he can hold you.

"What else did they say?" You ask as you kiss the tip of his nose.

He grins at that, eyes once again dark and hungry. "Ask me again in a few days."

That's never a good sign, but you'd be a liar if you said you weren't intrigued. He'd checked most of the boxes for your needs already, what else had he managed to find?

By the time you actually start bleeding, he's wrangled up every heating pad and pain reliever he can get his hands on. There's always a hot bath waiting to help you relax, and no shortage of pads stashed throughout the estate. He's hidden some in every desk and drawer he can think of, which pretty much means you'll never have to worry about it for the rest of your mortal life because he's not exactly sure how many of them you need, but it's the thought that counts.

By the second day, your cramps are so intense you can barely get out of bed and he stays dutifully curled up next to you, holding a heating pad at the base of you spine and massaging your tender hips like your own personal masseuse.

"Maybe today's the day, Rhys," you grumble into his bare chest. "I think I've had just about enough of this human thing."

He chuckles softly into your shoulder as his expert fingers loosen the tight muscles at the base of your spine. "That's not a very fun turning story."

"You've never experienced the pain of being a woman," you counter. "I think Mor would find it funny at least."

He kisses your shoulder, clad in one of his oversized shirts. "We still have a few things we can try before we resort to that."

"Such as?" You counter.

Rhys rolls you over onto your back, body sliding in between your legs. "I read that orgasms can help." His eyes are back to that dark, hungry look you've seen a dozen times in that couple weeks and it suddenly clicks in your head why he's been looking at you like that.

"That explains the towels," you say.

He kisses you gently at first, "Only if you want to, of course."

"At this point, I'll try anything," though you can't help the blush that works its way up your neck and face. You'd be a liar to say you hadn't thought about it, but you'd assumed this was too taboo a subject to discuss with someone so... old.

He's gone in a flash to grab the towels he'd stashed under the sink and back just as quick to lie them out across the bed, just so you don't ruin the sheet set that might just be older than you.

"You're sure you don't mind?" You inquire and he stills at the edge of the bed, giving you the same look he gives Cass when he says something out of pocket.

"I'm a vampire, Darling," he says, running his tongue over his canines so you get the point. "You should know by now how much I enjoy blood. Yours especially."

"Yeah, but this is-" You freeze as he kneels between your legs and starts placing soft kisses along the inside of your thighs. "Different."

One of his hands reaches up to push your shirt up your body, the other holds your legs open so he can move further up your thighs. "How so?" Fangs scrape over your skin in teasing strokes as he kisses higher and higher.

"You're not drinking from me," you start but a shiver works its way down your spine and steals the thought from your head as he brushes his nose over your clothed center. It is easy to forget how sensitive your body is during your period, and there is no denying how turned on you get when Rhys gets between your legs, but this time it feels different. This time, having him this close makes your body tremble, heat licking deep in the pit of your stomach. It usually takes some of his venom to feel this worked up, but there's none in your system yet.

"Aren't I?" He purrs, hands hooking in the waistband of your underwear.

You don't have time to ask before he starts pulling the material down your legs, the cool air of the room a stark contrast to the heat that flushes your skin. There is no beat in time between him baring you to him and him pulling a towel beneath you, his inhumane speed making it feel like you blinked and were suddenly bare. It's not even a breath later that he's licking a stripe up your center and all rational thought eddies from your mind.

"Rhys!" You should want to pull away, should feel some sort of mortification when he looks up at you, eyes so lust blown they're almost all pupil despite the slight flush of red on his lips, but you can't find it in you to do so.

"Relax," he orders mind to mind as his tongue slides easily through your folds. "Let me take care of you."

Your eyes squeeze shut as he licks another long stripe up your center, canines scraping gently, teasingly against you. It's too much already and he hasn't done anything yet. Your hands reach for the sheets, trying to hold onto something, to ground yourself from rocking your hips into his mouth in desperation.

"Feels good?"

Your legs instinctively spread for him, body begging for more as you whimper for him. "More, please, more!"

He guides one of your legs over his shoulder, giving him a better angle to dive into you and feast, tongue pushing deeper inside you.

Stars swim across your vision, breath rasping out of you in panting gasps as your hands fly from the sheets to his hair to pull him closer. Your body is white hot, muscles tightening around his head as the pleasure builds deeper and deeper inside you.

When he slides a finger inside you, you can't help but buck your hips into his face, writhing against the pleasure that's too much and somehow not enough. His name is a prayer on your lips, pleasure making you delirious as he drags you closer and closer to the edge.

He has to keep an arm over your waist to keep you from writhing too far away, the strength of him only serving to fuel the fire in your belly more. This is about you and your pleasure, and gods is he good at it, but knowing you can't squirm away from him, can't do anything but accept what he gives you makes your thighs clench around his head.

He moans into your center as you tighten around him, letting you know he's enjoying this just as much as you are, despite the wetness you feel dripping down onto the towel beneath you. At least he had planned ahead for the mess.

"Rhys," the whole house can probably hear you screaming for him as he slides a second finger inside you, stretching you out and chasing the motion with his tongue.

"Just like that, Little One," he coos. "Cum for me."

You're aware you're babbling, thighs shaking around his head as pleasure sweeps through you, but you can't stop. Can't do anything but float on the waves of white hot pleasure that crest and fall down your spine. He doesn't stop his ministrations either, not even as you fight to catch your breath. His fingers and tongue still move through your sensitive folds, still curl against that same, spongy spot over and over again.

"Too much," you whimper, trying to wiggle out from beneath him.

His large hand flattens over your stomach, pushing you down hard enough to feel the mattress bow beneath you. You aren't going anywhere until he's done with you, 'til he's had his fill.

"Look at me," he orders, tongue swirling in a new pattern, teeth lightly nibbling on your skin.

There's blood on the tip of his nose, on his cheeks and chin; all traces of violet are gone from his eyes, only lust and hunger in its place. Usually Cassian is the messy one, but tonight, he lets a little of the monster slip.

"I want you to watch as you come apart on my tongue again."

You're pretty sure it's his powers that pin you in place, holding you upright as he speeds up his movements, gaze pinned on the way he devours you like a male starved. He has eaten you out plenty of times in the past, but the sounds he makes, the reverberations of his moans only amplify your pleasure.

The edge rises to meet you again, the over-stimulation cresting between pleasure and pain, the lines blurring as he suckles on your clit.

Stars once again blur across your vision as every muscle in your body tightens. The grip you have on his hair has to be painful, even for an immortal, but he makes no complaint as he nips and sucks and twists his fingers in a way that makes you think you might die if you don't cum soon. Tears make your vision cloudy, all your heightened emotions amplified further by how good he's capable of making you feel.

"So pretty like this," he purrs. "Love those sounds you make for me, when you moan my name like a prayer."

It's taking everything in you to not squeeze your eyes shut as you buck your hips as best you can against the hand pinning you in place. Just a little more. Just a little harder. You're so close to the edge again, so close to that sweet, sweet bliss.

"We should have done this sooner, don't you think, Darling?"

"Yes!" You practically scream it as he flicks his tongue at the same time he curls his fingers and your release barrels through you so hard and fast your body shakes against it.

You're absolutely boneless as he works you through it, dragging your orgasm out as long as possible with his fingers. Only when your ragged breathing finally calms does he remove himself from your core. He leans back on his haunches, face an absolute mess of blood and your release.

Despite the fact that he'd just been between your legs, you still find yourself blushing as he slides the fingers that had been inside you into his mouth for one final taste. "You really are my favorite meal, you know that?" His voice is still deliciously husky, the clear sign of his own arousal fighting the confines of his pants.

But this is about you, and making you feel better. So instead of doing something about it, he takes one of the towels you didn't absolutely ruin and starts to clean you up. When he's satisfied that you're clean, he disappears into the bathroom to start the tub.

He'd taken that time to clean up his face too, so there's no blood on his lips when he leans over the bed to place a gentle kiss on your lips. "Feel better?"

You'd managed to forget for the entirety of it that you had been cramping in the first place. "Much better."

He sweeps you up into his arms gently, like you're something fragile and breakable and it makes your heart clench in your chest. He has always been good at taking care of you, but it really hits you in this moment.

"I love you," you whisper as you lean up to kiss his cheek.

The water of the tub is deliciously hot, easing any lingering tension in your muscles as he gets both of you in the tub.

Rhys settles you against his chest, pressing gentle kisses against your forehead. "Still thinking about turning?"

You lean your head back against his shoulder so you can look up at him, eyes twinkling mischievously. "I think I want a little more mind blowing period sex first."

He chuckles as he settles back against the tub. "Good, 'cause those books had a few more suggestions we can try out."

[lelengerine]

pairing. haechan x reader

synopsis. under the light of a lamp post, maybe love isn't so lonely after all

genre. mentions of bruises, a lot of mixed signals from hyuck + comfort (it's a little messy ngl), cussing, friends to ???, no specific pronouns used, not proofread, lmk if there's anything i missed!

wc. 1.9k words

notes. hilu…! i’ve finally gained motivation again hehe so u can say i'm back somewhat :> it really does feel nice writing again TT likes and feedback are highly appreciated <3

m.list

you trudged along the dimly lit sidewalk, each step amplifying the dull ache in your heels. it had been a long night of forced smiles and polite conversation—your third blind date this month. the universe seemed to be testing your patience, and you were beginning to wonder if you had any left. the conversations felt hollow, the people you met like fleeting shadows, their words empty and their intentions hidden behind a facade of politeness. tonight's date was no different—another self-absorbed narcissist who only paused his monologue long enough to take a breath before launching into yet another tedious story about himself.

you were utterly sick and tired.

the vibrant atmosphere of bars and the energetic crowd you once thought would lift your spirits now felt suffocating, leaving you more alone and out of place than ever. it was a sharp contrast to the hope you had felt earlier in the evening, and the reality of your disappointment weighed heavily on you.

your feet throbbed, bruised from the heels you'd worn in a futile attempt to feel confident and put together. the bitter taste of the evening lingered, a reminder of yet another failed attempt to find something meaningful to cling on for a while. desperate for some relief, you stumbled toward the nearest convenience store, drawn by the promise of fluorescent lights and the comfort of solitude. the harsh glow overhead made the aisles feel cold and unwelcoming, but you ignored it, grabbing a pack of band-aids from the counter as if they could somehow patch up more than just the blisters on your feet.

as you reached for your wallet, a familiar hand appeared beside yours, placing a few cups of instant ramen down alongside your purchase. the sight of him made your heart lift, even in your weary state.

“rough night?” his voice was gentle, laced with concern as he paid for the items. you looked up, meeting haechan’s gaze, and despite everything, you felt a small spark of comfort.

“do i even need to answer that question, hyuck?” you replied with a soft, tired chuckle. you tried to keep it light, but the exhaustion was evident in your eyes, in the way your shoulders sagged under the weight of the night.

“is it a crime to ask questions of concern in this day and age?” he retorted with a smirk, though his eyes softened as he took in your worn expression.

“i’m afraid so,” you teased back, though your smile was faint.

haechan snickered quietly, taking the paper bag of paid goods from the cashier. he gestured for you to follow him outside, and you gratefully accepted, the cool night air a welcome change from the stifling atmosphere of the date you had just escaped. as you both walked to a nearby bench, you couldn’t help but notice how his presence grounded you, making you feel a little less lost.

sitting down, haechan reached into the bag and pulled out the pack of band-aids, his movements careful and deliberate. it was such a simple gesture, but it felt like a lifeline in the sea of disappointment you were drowning in.

“so, why the long face?” he asked, his tone genuinely curious as he began to unwrap one of the band-aids.

“shitty date,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. you watched as he gently lifted your foot onto his lap despite your initial reluctance. his touch was surprisingly tender, the soft glow of the nearby lamp post highlighting his features in a way that made him seem almost ethereal. somehow, the thought was enough to distract you from the sting of the evening’s failures.

haechan’s expression softened even more as he worked, his gaze focused solely on you. “i told you not to go on those anymore,” he said, a hint of reproach in his voice.

“i know,” you admitted, feeling a mix of gratitude and guilt. his touch was soothing, and with each carefully applied band-aid, the pain in your feet seemed to fade, though the ache in your heart lingered.

“there are really creepy guys out there, you know? i don’t know what i’d do if—”

“hyuck,” you interrupted, your tone more serious than before, “you’re making it sound like you’d beat them up without hesitation.”

“i would… for you,” he replied quietly before glancing up at you, his eyes reflecting a mix of affection and concern. “how are you even going to defend yourself? look at you!”

“you care too much,” you said, a hint of a smile on your lips, though your voice betrayed how much his words meant to you.

“i care the right amount,” he countered, his voice steady but filled with warmth.

“no one else would put on bandages for me aside from you,” you confessed, feeling a pang of vulnerability as you spoke. it was true—people often tiptoed around boundaries, but with him, those lines always seemed to blur in a way that allowed for solace and confusion to swirl up within you.

“then maybe everyone else should learn from me,” haechan said with a small, triumphant grin, though his eyes remained serious.

“hyuck,” you began, hesitating as you tried to gather the courage to voice the thoughts that had been gnawing at you. he let out a small hum to let you know he was listening, busying himself with peeling another band-aid out of its packaging. “please tell me if you only mean to lead me on.”

his expression shifted to one of shock and bewilderment, his hands freezing in place. “how did you even come to a conclusion like that?”

“i know you’re probably just being a good person, but… you care for me more than others do. you make me feel special, like i have a place in your heart—even if i know that isn’t truly the case and i’m only being hopeful.”

haechan’s eyes searched yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. “you think that’s all this is?” he asked softly.

“then why does it feel like we’re always dancing around something?”

haechan’s gaze was steady, his hand resting gently on yours. “maybe we are. but if there’s one thing i’ve learned, it’s that love isn’t always easy or straightforward. sometimes, it’s about finding comfort in the moments when you’re together, despite the uncertainties.”

as the night deepened, the air between you both seemed to shift. the loneliness that had weighed so heavily on you earlier began to recede, replaced by a quiet connection that felt more real than any conversation you’d had in recent weeks. haechan’s presence was a comforting reminder that, amidst the loneliness and the search for something meaningful, you had found a spark of something genuine.

with a soft sigh, you leaned closer to him, finding solace in his proximity. “maybe love is lonely sometimes,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, “but tonight, i’m just glad it’s not so lonely with you here.”

“me too.”