#so it's *almost* but not quite perfectly looping

[mlpoutofcontext]

[the-insomniac-emporium]

current favorite playlist

catharsis? more like cartharsis

[yuwuta]

JUST KEEP LOVING ME THE WAY I LOVE YOU LOVING ME — SATORU GOJO

pairings. satoru gojo/reader

content, warnings. non-curse au, doctor au (reader), ceo au (satoru), no real content warnings, fluff, satoru is nothing but a romantic at heart

word count. 3k

notes. this exists in the post-completion au of a larger universe/incomplete fic of mine, that i will hopefully finish someday lololol but this is way easier to write than that so here you go 🥳

“There are four chairs worth a collective seventy-five hundred dollars in this office, so, pray, tell, why is your ass on my desk?” 

Satoru grins at your words, too distracted by taking in the sight of you to take into consideration the underlying threat. It’s been far too long, almost three whole days since he’s last seen you and, god, you look good. He knows if he said that you’d roll your eyes and insist that there’s nothing good-looking about your worn-in business attire and lab coat that was in desperate need of laundering, but it wouldn’t change his opinion: you always look good, and Satoru really fucking missed you. 

Which is why he doesn’t say the words, but makes sure to throw a deceivingly charming wink your way so that you get the message anyway. As expected, you still roll your eyes, but he doesn’t mind; you look good doing that, too.

“Seriously, Satoru, what are you doing here?” you question, closing the door behind you when you fully step into the room. You make pace towards your desk, attempting to get to the other side, but this is exactly why Satoru chose to lean against it instead of sitting on any one of your very expensive and comfortable chairs—because this way, he’s in the perfect position to intercept your path and pull you to fit neatly between his legs before you can even think about reaching your office chair and ignoring him. 

He pulls you by the loop of your lab coat, but his hands quickly find their way to your shoulders, unpeeling the white layer just enough so that your blouse is exposed to him, and he can slowly rub his palms against your arms and shoulders with just enough pressure to hopefully release some tension. You won’t let go of all of it, but that’s alright, because Satoru’s got other methods for taking care of you.

“Hi,” he calls, smiling gently down at you, “I missed you.” 

This close, Satoru can see the exhaustion clearly in your eyes. There’s more, too: frustration, guilt, worry—and it takes everything in him not to coo and pull you into his chest and do his best to shield you from the world forever. 

There’s a beat before you speak, a small sigh, that’s quickly painted over with a tired smile and a remorseful, “I missed you, too. I’m sorry for being so short, the interim chief has been getting on my last nerves, and—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Satoru cuts in, leaning forward to press a reassuring kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax under his touch. “I know you’re busy. I just missed you.” 

It’s not easy to share you with anything or anyone, but Satoru knows that even on the hardest days, you love your job, and that so many people need your brilliant mind. What he does mind is when people make your job harder than it needs to be, and he’s been getting an earful about this new interim chief from just about everybody—you, Kento, Yuuji, Ieiri, even some of your favorite scrub nurses have indulged him in the gossip about the newest common enemy—and he doesn’t appreciate that someone is putting extra stress on his baby. So, even if it is a makeshift massage in your office and distracting you from your paperwork, Satoru will do what he can to help you relieve tension. 

You reach your arms to wrap them around his shoulders, taking a half step closer to him, peering up at him. Satoru loves when your arms are around his neck like this; he can’t quite pinpoint why—maybe it’s the way you have to crane your neck to look up at him, the way you’re perfectly nestled under his view, the feeling of being wrapped in you. He does his best to close the loop of your intimacy, resting his hands on the small of your back and pulling you impossibly closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax into his touch.

“You’re sweet,” you smile, rubbing your thumb against the shorter hairs at the back of his head. Satoru feels himself melt into you, too. It’s been too long since you’ve been this close, three whole days too long. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for, baby,” he smiles, stealing a gentle kiss. Satoru loves this the most, loves the feeling of your lips on his—and it’s definitely been too long since he’s kissed you, so he makes sure to do it again, and once more after that for good measure. 

But it’s not enough. He’ll have to take you home, sit you on the couch so he can kiss you all night and make up for the lack of kisses and touches and youness he’s been deprived of these past few days. But first, he’ll have to pull you away from your work, and that’s not easy work. 

“Come home,” he muses, leaning his forehead against yours, “We can order in, and share your favorite bottle of wine, and watch a movie.” 

You lean up to kiss him briefly. “Every time we share a bottle of wine, we end up making out and not watching anything.” 

“Do we?” Satoru feigns innocence, “I never noticed. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, though.”

“Satoru,” you whisper, quiet but firm, with a smile that lets him know you want to, but you can’t. It’s a tone that Satoru knows all too well, and isn’t particularly fond of. “I have charts to finish.” 

“Finish them tomorrow,” he steals another kiss, “Or pawn them off on Kento,” another kiss, “Or Yuuji. Residents always need more experience—isn’t that what you and Ieiri always say?” 

You let him kiss you again, and again, and again. Each time a little longer, a little warmer, a little less innocent than the last, growing from a little, to a lot, to all-consuming. Satoru hums when he feels your nails raking through his hair; an unfortunate move, as the sound pulls you back to reality and away from him in a decrescendo of kisses. 

“You’re really good at that,” you laugh, voice soft. 

“At kissing?” Satoru dips his head down to taste your laughter against his lips, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice with a very pretty girl.” 

“No,” and you’re laughing again, louder this time, and Satoru counts every little giggle as a victory, “You’re good at... seducing me without saying you’re seducing me.”

“Oh, that?” he grins, tucking his pointer and index finger under your chin to meet you in a knowing kiss, “Yeah, that’s a talent of mine, too.”

You let him steal one more, and Satoru doesn’t take it for granted. “Come home,” he whispers against your lips before slotting them in yet another kiss, “I miss you.” 

And he can feel it when you finally break, sighing into the kiss, and melting into his touch completely. One more, he just needs one more kiss to seal the deal, and then—“Fine,” you concede, “But I get to choose where to get dinner from.” 

“Of course, sweets, whatever you want,” Satoru grins, pulling back to kiss your forehead again, “Now—shall we? If we order in the car, we can probably pick it up on our way home.”

He’s in the home stretch now, but he’s not completely free: if you catch a glimpse of your work, or someone comes in to find you, or your godforsaken pager beeps then all of his plans could come crumbling down before him. The key to transitioning from the “you’ve agreed to come home with him early stage”—if you can count 9:45pm, coming off of a 17-hour work day as early—to the “we are actually leaving this hospital and nobody can stop us phase” is swiftness. This time period is critical, and Satoru is ready for the sprint. 

He shimmies your lab coat all the way off of your body for you, checking for the weight of your pager in your right pocket, before hanging it on the back of your chair. He shoos you to grab your coat, and makes sure you don’t get within three feet of this side of your desk—taking your purse out of your locked drawer and closing an open file folder in the time it takes you to slip out of your heels and into your sneakers, and by the time you’re turning back around, Satoru is already there next to you, with your purse in one hand, and his other hovering on the light switch. 

He makes sure you’re out the door first, and flickers off the light with a satisfied grin. His baby was coming home early with him, and there is nothing else he’d rather do than spend time pampering you. 

You must truly be more tired than you know, because you make no protest when he slings an arm over your shoulder on your way out of the elevator. Usually, you chastise him for any PDA within hospital walls, but tonight you let it be, even leaning some of your body weight against his as you walk. Satoru’s not complaining at all, maybe he’ll try his luck and sneak a kiss on your cheek. 

He decides to go for it, leaning over for a kiss, when you suddenly pull away, turning and patting against your side. Confused, and disappointed, Satoru pouts, “We’ve really got to work on this fear of affection you’ve got going on, sweets. It’s the leading cause of makesatorupout-itis.” 

“We’ve been over this—you can’t just add “itis” to the end of your words to make them diagnostic,” you giggle, “I was looking for my keys.”

Satoru’s frown deepens. “You have the fancy reserved doctor parking space, they can’t tow you. So, we can take my car home.” 

“No, we cannot, because I do not trust you to wake up and drive me back tomorrow morning.” 

“Then I’ll get you a cab in the morning, or—even better, I’ll call Ichiji to pick you up.” 

“Ichiji is still in Paris,” you remind him. Satoru purses his lips. He did ask Ichiji to stay with Megumi. Damn it.

“I have other cars, you can drive one of them in the morning.” 

“And park it where?” 

“In your fancy reserved doctor parking—oh, okay I see the flaw there,” Satoru pulls back. You find amusement in his disappointment, but he doesn’t think there’s anything funny here. 

He shakes his head. He should have taken a cab from his office, but this is okay, a minor setback, nothing he can’t think around. “New plan: we take your car, and I’ll come by to get mine tomorrow. Easy peasy.” 

“Yours will be towed by then.” 

“That’s fine,” Satoru shrugs, “I can afford a tow fee.” 

“Satoru,” you call, reaching your free hand up to place your palm against his cheek, “We both drive home. It’ll be thirty minutes, tops. Forty if there’s traffic, but if you stop pouting and we leave now, we should be fine.” 

Satoru sighs. He knows that’s the most reasonable plan of action, but the simple truth is that he doesn’t want to be away from you right now, even to go the short distance home. He’s already spent the last few days without you, and even though this is calling it in early for you, he only gets maybe four hours awake with you before you’re off again. Thinking about that makes him miss you again already. Pathetic, maybe, but he doesn’t care.

“Oh, Dr. (_____), hey!” Yuuji’s voice is an easily distinguishable interruption to your petty argument, and Satoru’s sulking, “Perfect timing—I’m glad I caught you before you left. Is it okay if I ask you to sign something before you go?” 

You easily warm up to the younger boy and agree, fondly making conversation with Yuuji as he scrolls through some documents on his tablet. And just as you’ve finished scribbling your signature along the screen, Satoru has a bright idea. 

“Hey, Yuuji, you can drive right?” Satoru questions rhetorically, already reaching for his wallet and car keys, “Great! Here’s two grand, it’s all yours if you drive this car home tonight.” Satoru smiles widely, shoving his keys and some cash into the pocket of Yuuji’s white coat. 

“What—really? Awesome! But, why—” 

Satoru dismisses his disbelief with a wave of his hand. He steps a bit closer to Yuuji, just enough to lean into his ear and tuck a couple more bills into his pocket, “And between you and me, that’s an extra three grand if you finish up a couple of charts for my lady so she can sleep in tomorrow. Not a bad deal, right?” 

“Sure, no problem!” Yuuji salutes, “I’d do anything for Dr. Almost-Gojo. Plus, if I’m busy working for her, then I don’t have to babysit cells in a dish for Dr. Gakuganji.” 

“Atta boy,” Satoru ruffles his hair, “Catch you later, Yuuji, I’ve got a hot date to get to. And tell Nanamin I say hello!” 

You elbow Satoru shallowly, a silent warning to keep his voice down, and a verbal chastising of, “It’s Dr. Itadori and Dr. Nanamin to you.”

“More like Dr. Nanameanie,” Satoru laments, resuming the position of his arm around your shoulder, “I’ve left him six calls this week! He’s so cruel—he knows I have to leave next week and he’s depriving me of one on one time. I think I’m gonna have to sneak into his office at lunch tomorrow and confront him.”

Despite his crass words and dramatics, you laugh, and so, Satoru smiles. He finally gets that cheek kiss right as you two reach your car, bending down to plant one for you at the same time he steals your keys from your hand and banishes you to the passenger seat. He’s not much of a driver himself, despite his excess amount of cars, but you’re his baby and you deserve to be driven around no matter the case, but especially when you’ve spent all day taking care of other people. 

Plus, on days like this, if he’s real careful and smooth, you fall asleep in the car and he gets to carry you inside. He makes that his goal for the next thirty minutes, and he succeeds in twenty, confirmed by your soft snores just as he pulls into the curbside pick-up spot of your favorite restaurant. He retrieves the take-out as quietly as possible, before making the rest of the journey home, taking the time to glance over at you during red lights. 

Satoru loves the way you look when you’re asleep, loves to see you well-rested, but something even more dear to him than that is a fact that Nanami let slip in the aftermath of a dinner party he’d hosted about a year after you two had started dating: “She never sleeps outside of her bed, for as long as I’ve known her,” he muses, nodding to your sleeping figure on Satoru’s couch, “Not even in the on-call rooms during our 72 hour shifts. She must... she must really trust you, Satoru.” 

(He also recalls the awfully strong grip on his shoulder and subsequent shovel talk Kento gave him a moment later. Not that Satoru ever had anything but pure intentions with you, but the threat of breaking Kento’s best friend’s heart was more than enough to keep his commitments in check).

Satoru peers at you fondly in his arms, held bridal style with the takeout in the grip of a pinky finger, glancing up only to nod and thank his doorman for pushing the penthouse button for him. Satoru prides himself on many things, but the one thing he always holds in his highest regards is you: call him cocky, but he thinks he’s quite good at caring for you, that there’s nobody else fit to look after you the way that he can; and knowing that you feel safe in his arms is the highest honor he could achieve in this life.

He sets you carefully on the couch once he steps inside the apartment, and places the food on the coffee table. He debates whether or not he should wake you up now; he hates to, but he knows you need to eat, and, selfishly, he wants to cash in on those few hours he has with you to hear your voice. 

He’ll dish out the food first, and then wake you up to eat, he decides. He leans down to kiss the crown of your head, eyes flicking to your face, and pausing at your neck, where your engagement ring rests crookedly against your skin. You must have had an emergency surgery today, he thinks; your schedule for today was originally just to round on post-op patients and attend some meetings, but you knot the ring into your chain when you have to scrub into the operating room. 

Carefully, Satoru reaches to undo it from the chain, and slips it back onto your ring finger. It looks pretty against your skin when it’s around your neck, but personally, he thinks it looks best this way, the sparkle of the aquamarine against the halo of diamonds fits perfectly across the width of your finger, just the way he had it made to be.

Satoru bends down even further to kiss the back of your hand, before laying it to rest on your stomach. He might need to bribe Yuuji to take care of some more work for you, you two really should get a move on that wedding planning, and you’re going to need at least a week off to fly and visit his grandma’s pastry shop in Osaka for cake tasting.

He smiles at the thought. He doesn’t feel so bad about waking you up now—wedding talk seems like the perfect way to end the evening if you ask him; there would be no sweeter sound than hearing how you imagine the start of the rest of your lives to be. 

[screampied]

friendddd need some geto or nanami 😋 fluff where he helps you study like pull an all-nighter and then soft smut and he praisesyou for doing so well.

❤��� ໋𓈒 nanami helping you study then rewarding you after you finish

warnings. fem! reader, praise kink, soft dom nanami, reader's in college, doggystyle, talking you through it, mdni.

it’d be quite late at night, the clock nearly struck around two.

you let off a soft sigh, nanami’s words falling into silent ears. of course, you deeply appreciated his help, but the current study had your mind thrown in for a loop. you sat on his lap, leaning up against your palm before letting off another sigh.

“you get frustrated so easily, sweetheart,” nanami hums, leaning in to pepper a few kisses beneath your neck. he was so warm. you couldn’t help but smile despite the vexed pout sitting on your lips. he holds you close to his chest as your pout remained on your lips. “you’re almost done for the night, don’t pout.”

nanami continued to help you, his patience never wearing thin. “…fine,” you’d huff out, and within an hour you end up remembering all the methods he taught you. nanami watches with a soft gaze before you slump back on his chest, exaggerating out a cute sigh.

“now now, was that so hard? my good girl,” nanami kisses the back of your head. his touch was so gentle, yet after all that work you felt a bit turned on—especially from being so snuggled up against his lap. “awww,” he mutters, feeling you rub on his thigh. you were so handsy, he knew what you wanted and nanami hums. “is this your way of asking for a reward? you want…me, princess?”

“y-yes,” you mumble, his cologne started to get stronger and stronger. it wafts against your nose, simply enticing. nanami was so warm up against you, even him dressed down was sexy. he wore nothing but sweats and a white tank top, bulky beefy arms wrapped around your waist. “i need it.”

“need it?” he repeats, a tender smile tugging on his lips. you let off a cute gasp once he makes you sit up — slowly bending you over the desk.

nanami was so slow, purposely slow to make you lose your mind. he gently runs a thumb near the hem of your pajama shorts before sighing. “such a greedy girl, do you think you deserve it? let me know, baby.”

you pout, just aching for him to be inside already. your brain was practically fried from the immense hours of studying and you pathetically nod. “i deserve it kento. want you so bad. you—you called me your good girl.”

“i did, didn’t i,” he purrs right up against your ear. his voice had a slight rasp to it, so deep. he was such a tease, and you whine once you start to feel his bulge prod against your ass. “mhm. that’s true, i suppose. even though you kept whining about trying to get me to tell you all the answers, you did finish.”

“k-kento.” you’d moan, feeling his dick twitch beneath his briefs. you wanted him inside desperately. just being hunched over the desk, arched perfectly for him . . it had you throbbing.

nanami chuckles, whispering out a, “okay. okayy. if the princess wants me, she’ll get all of me.”

gingerly sliding down your sleepwear pants, nanami sighs. seeing you drench all through your panties, he springs out his length before prodding it all against your folds. you moan, feeling him pinch your underwear with two fingers, dragging it to the side. “wet girl. were you this wet the whole time i was helping you?”

“y-yes,” you whimpered with such honesty. he simpers, hearing your breath start to come more erratic and hitched. your bottom lip quivers once he gradually wraps a big hand around his length, brushing it against your entrance. “fuck me kento, waited s-so long.”

“good things come to those who wait, sweetheart,” he says in a hushed tone—you let off a soft mewl at his fat tip, it’s slowly sinking into you before he teases, pulling it out — in and out, in and out. your sheeny spit-glossed ips quaver as well as your legs before you pout. “aw. such an impatient girl. tryin’ to grind against me all nice like that, so cute.”

nanami couldn’t help but tease you. even if it was just a little bit. the moment he finally starts to sink his way into your slick entrance. your mouth slightly went agape. so thick . . it had your head spinning, lips parting and mouth salivating. he grows quiet the minute you do, and the sounds of your own squelching pussy became his favorite tune to listen to.

“niiiice ‘n warm for me l-like always,” he breathes, and his voice grows a bit lower than usual—it’s insanely attractive. he lowly groans the moment you involuntarily clamp down on him. “did such a good job … today.”

nanami brings two rough hands towards your hips, gently stroking your sides with his thumbs. and once he’s fully inside, he presents you with a single thrust. you jolt forward, moaning from his girth expanding inside of you before you slip out a giggle. “k-kento, i want you to fuck me.”

“hm. is that not what i’m doing, baby?” he asks politely, blond eyebrows raising in pure curiosity.

you move your hips forward before panting, desperately wanting more from him — to feel him reach spots you didn’t even know could be reached. “you can be a little rough with me kento, i can handle it.”

“oh…?” he snickers softly, leaning in to plant another kiss behind your ear. “my smart girl thinks she can handle me?”

“kento,” you whine, and nanami feels you make a cute attempt at swiveling your ass against him. he lets off a faint grunt before smiling to himself. seeing you so needy amused him—of course, he couldn’t tease you for too long. nanami makes you arch over all the way over the desk to where your chest bumps against the plethora of scattered papers. “f-fuck me, jus’ fuck me please.”

nanami parts your legs open for you a bit, getting a perfect alignment before he’s fully in this time. a perfect fit . . nice and snug. he had such a thick base, within a few seconds it smacked and smacked against you.

even still, he continued to be gentle with you.

a tender grip on your hips, yet his strokes were incredibly sloppy. with a tongue briefly lolling out, you babbled out his name numerous times until spit glossed over your lips.

doggystyle with nanami — it was always one of your favorite things to do. he preferred positions where he’d see your pretty face, stroking your cheek while you came on him and all. he didn’t mind this either, nanami caresses a part of your ass before giving it a light squeeze.

“huggin’ me so good. s-so good like a good girl,” he huffs out out in shaky pants.

nanami couldn’t help but feel his cock twitch at the way you were bent over for him. the way you’d whine for him to keep going, to stuff you full until nothing but the remnants of his own sticky cum ran down your thighs. he always did adore how you were his messy girl.

“you didn’t wanna study did you, baby? you—you just wanted to be like this,” and his breaths were heavy. you gnawed on the bottom of your lip as you felt the head of his cock run against that particular spot. nanami was so thick. the right amount of thickness, so thick it had your toes curling. you tried suppressing moans but by this point, you couldn’t care less. “bein’ bent over for me isn’t gonna make you any smarter, y’know?”

“i— i knowww that.” you moaned, feeling your thighs start to ache and ache. the way he reached all the right spots with such ease. he found it cute with the way your words were all whiney and dragged out.

you started to feel it, wave after wave ebbing alongside you . . . that familiar dry taste lingering inside your mouth. you felt yourself squirming a bit before letting off a sweetened moan once his cock head brushes right up near your g-spot.

“f-fuck fuckkkk,” you’d mewl out, gasp after gasp escorting past your sheeny lips. you were so close. your thighs tremble beneath him and he leans up close to you, coating your neck with multiple soft kisses. you moan, his cologne filling up your sinuses before you let off a squeak. “kento, ‘m gonna c-cum. keep—keeeep going.”

nanami puffs. “mhm. give it to me, sweetheart,” and his voice was a smooth low melody. his warm breath went against your earlobe, and he gently nibbles on it to make you spiral even more. nanami slows his hips down, giving you more precise strokes. “relax on me, there we go. smart girl,” and he’s gradually talking you through it. your eyelids flutter, legs barely standing before within seconds you come undone. “that’s my girl.”

you’re still panting, the abrupt surge of ways that left you had your breath nearly stolen from you. your pussy throbbed — even once you felt him start to slowly pull out, brushing a thumb against your slick pulsating heat.

“do you think i’ll um.. pass tomorrow?” you mutter in broken words, glancing down at your scattered papers.

nanami spins you around to kiss the top of your forehead, looking at you with kind eyes before letting off a nervous chortle, “no baby. i checked over your work and you only got like four right.”

[chosok-amo]

hey hey!!! I read your social anxiety fic with megumi and just wanted to say first, that it was amazing like actually shit got me tearing up at how sweet it was 😭

And secondly!! Could I maybe request a Megumi x Reader who tends to cling on people she trust's arms alot? But after meeting Megumi she starts to only cling to him. Like full on arm wrapped around his one arm. Sorry if it's too much and have a nice day!!

⠀⠀⠀⠀CLING-CLINK .ᐟ

megumi fushiguro x 𝗳𝗲𝗺! 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿.

☆ before meeting you, megumi often sees you around school, always clinging into yuuta's arm, even satoru gojo's arm like when a child learns how to cross the street and have to hold into their parents, until he meets you.

fluff, p.s i'm sorry if i don't make your request good enough, but i hope you like it :)

megumi fushiguro stood in the distance, his gaze fixed on a scene unfolding across the school grounds. the golden hues of the setting sun cast long shadows, creating an almost surreal backdrop. among the students scattered about, one figure caught his attention. you were walking with satoru gojo, clinging tightly to his arm, your face lit up with a radiant smile. gojo, as always, exuded his usual charm, his blindfold hiding his eyes but not the amusement on his face. the two of you seemed completely absorbed in your conversation, oblivious to the world around you.

megumi squinted, trying to place you. you looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite pinpoint where he'd seen you before. the way you clung to gojo's arm so naturally, so effortlessly, stirred something in him. it wasn't jealousy, exactly, but a mix of curiosity. “who is she?” megumi wandered to himself, watching as you laughed at something gojo said. “and why is she always so close to him?”

he had noticed you a few times before, always attached to someone else's arm— mostly your teacher, satoru gojo and the second year student, yuuta okkotsu, always so animated and lively. it wasn't just gojo; you seemed to have a habit of clinging to people. it puzzled him. was it a sign of affection? a need for reassurance? or just a part of your personality?

megumi wasn't one to judge, but he found it difficult to understand. he preferred his own space, his own quiet corner of the world. the idea of being so physically close to someone, especially in such a public setting, was foreign to him.

as he watched, gojo said something that made you throw your head back in laughter, your grip on his arm tightening momentarily. the sight brought a small, involuntary smile to megumi's face. there was something undeniably endearing about your openness, your willingness to express joy so freely. still, the question lingered in his mind. why did you always cling to people like that? was it a habit, a comfort, or something more?

yet he found himself another encounter of you with his senpai, yuuta okkotsu. that day megumi fushiguro stood in the shadow of a tall tree, his eyes scanning the school grounds as the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over everything. his gaze settled on a familiar figure in the distance. you were walking with yuuta okkotsu, your arm firmly looped around his as you strolled together.

yuuta, with his kind and calm demeanor, seemed perfectly at ease with you by his side. he wore his usual gentle smile, listening attentively to whatever you were saying. your animated gestures and bright laughter filled the air, making it clear how much you enjoyed his company.

megumi's brow furrowed slightly as he watched. you, always close to someone, always with that same cheerful energy. it was almost like you thrived on the connection, the physical closeness to others. “why is she always like that?” megumi thought to himself, his mind drifting back to the other times he'd seen you, clinging to one, two, max three people around the school. it wasn't just yuuta—he'd noticed you with others too, always the same, always so tactile and open. he couldn't help but feel a bit perplexed.

as you and yuuta continued to walk, yuuta said something that made you laugh, your grip on his arm tightening slightly, just like how you were with gojo. the sight brought a small, involuntary smile to megumi's face. there was something undeniably endearing about your openness, your willingness to express joy so freely and without reservation.

but the same question remained. why did you always cling to people like that? eas it a habit, a comfort, or something deeper?

“maybe she's just really friendly,” he mused, recalling how at ease you seemed with both gojo and yuuta. “or maybe she needs that kind of connection to feel secure,” he thought about the way you laughed with gojo, how your whole face lit up with genuine happiness. then he remembered how relaxed and content yuuta looked with you by his side, as if your presence was a natural part of his day. it wasn't just that you clung to people; it was the way you seemed to bring out something brighter in them, a lightness that megumi couldn't ignore.

“is she like that with everyone?” he wondered. “or is there something special about gojo and yuuta?” the thought nagged at him. he couldn't quite place why it bothered him so much. was it jealousy? curiosity? or simply a desire to understand something so different from his own nature?

megumi fushiguro sat in the shadows, watching you from afar, his mind swirling with a thousand 'what ifs.' he couldn't understand why such a simple thing—someone clinging to another—bothered him so much. it was common enough, something he saw every day, yet whenever it involved you, it gnawed at him. he wonder and wonder why, how, where, and when about you. it's just a simple thing, everyone clinging to everyone, but why does it bother him that much?

“why does it affect me like this?” he thought, frustration bubbling inside him. “why do i care so much?” it wasn't just about you clinging to others. it was how people reacted around you, how comfortable they became in your presence. they acted as if having you wrapped around them was as natural as breathing, as easy as walking, even though it should have been a hindrance. it baffled him how seamlessly you fit into their lives.

how he feel if he's the one you clinging to?

at one point, the one 'what if' crossing his mind, the thought slipped, unbidden, and since that day, megumi couldn't shake it. the curiosity melted inside him, merging with his blood, becoming a part of him. every time he saw you, the question lingered, refusing to let go.

days turned into weeks, and the thought only grew stronger, until one day, fate gave megumi a chance to get to know you. he approached cautiously, his usual stoic expression hiding the turmoil inside. he found you to be warm, bright, full of life. your energy was infectious, your smile lighting up even the darkest corners of his mind.

he worried that he might extinguish your light if he got too close, afraid that his touch might dim your radiance. but then, in a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, you wrapped your delicate arms around his. megumi's heart raced, pounding so loudly he could hear it in his ears. he'd never felt anything like this before. it was as if a bell rang inside his mind, each beat of his heart echoing with the sound. your touch was gentle, yet it set his nerves alight, a single act of affection that shook him to his core.

in that instant, megumi realized why it had bothered him so much. it wasn't just about the act of clinging; it was about the person. It was about you. the thought of you being close to others had ignited a jealousy he hadn't recognized, a longing he hadn't understood.

and now, as you clung to his arm, megumi swore he could feel his world shift. in that moment, he knew that your warmth, your light, was something he wanted to protect, to cherish. and for the first time, he welcomed the feeling, embracing the connection you offered with open arms.

“fushigurooo,” your honey voice, echoes through the wooden wall of your school. a bright smile reached your eyes, shaping them into crescents as you skipped your way over to him. you were always full of life, a burst of sunshine on even the dullest days.

yuuta was there, but you don't even spare the boy a glance, your arms finds their own home naturally— megumi's arm. the second year and the first year decided to go on break after the training that day, strolling around tokyo for treat with gojo's money.

“fushiguro, how's your day?” you ask him, smiling as you look up at the taller boy. megumi looks down at you, watching how you comfortably clung around his arm, refusing to let go.

smiling, the blue-irised boy answered, “it was good, y/n, how's yours?” he pulled his arm closer to his body, and with his expectation you followed along until there was no void, a distance megumi refused to stand. the tumultuous roads of tokyo, but all he could ever listen to was your sweet voice, telling him about how's your day going. the chaos of the city faded into the background, and for a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, walking

the streets of tokyo were alive with energy, filled with the sounds of chatter, laughter, and the occasional honk of a car horn. despite the chaos, megumi's focus remained on you. you animatedly recounted your day, your voice a soothing melody amid the city's cacophony.

yuuta walked a few steps behind, giving the two of you space. he couldn't help but smile at the sight, understanding that something special was unfolding. gojo, always the observer, watched with a knowing grin from the back, making a mental note to tease megumi about it later.

as you continued to talk, your hand lightly squeezed megumi's arm. “and then, we tried this new dessert place. you have to come with me next time, fushiguro. the matcha parfaits are to die for.” megumi chuckled softly, his usual stoic expression softened by your enthusiasm. “i’ll keep that in mind. it sounds good.” you beamed up at him, your eyes twinkling. “it really is! oh, and guess what? i found this adorable bookstore tucked away in a side street. they have the cutest stationery.”

megumi nodded, listening intently, savoring each detail you shared. he found himself looking forward to these moments more and more, where he could just listen to you, forgetting about everything else.

the group eventually reached a cozy café, its exterior adorned with fairy lights and flowering plants. gojo, ever the generous mentor, insisted on treating everyone. you pulled megumi inside, your excitement contagious as you marveled at the menu. “what are you getting, fushiguro?” you asked, glancing up at him with those bright, expectant eyes. megumi scanned the menu briefly before deciding. “maybe just a coffee and a pastry. what about you?”

you giggled, nudging him playfully. “you’re so predictable. i think i'll go for the strawberry shortcake and a matcha latte.” as you made your decision, megumi chuckled lightly at your predictable choice. megumi rolled his eyes at your comment, a light smile playing on his lips. “and you’re too extravagant with your tastes,” e teased, his eyes flickering over the menu, scanning the options before settling for a black coffee and a small blueberry tart.

“seriously, always with the sweets.”

as light as a feather, teasing lingering in his voice the moment his soft smile reached you. after placing your orders, you found a cozy corner to sit in. he followed you to the booth, leaning against it casually as they waited to order. megumi noticed how you made sure to stay close, your arm brushing against his side as you continued to cling to his arm. it was a small gesture, but it made his heart race.

“honestly, your sweet tooth knows no bounds,” he teased, eyeing the array of pastries behind the glass display case. “i’m amazed you don’t turn into a sugar cube after all the sweets you consume.”

“oh come on,” you retorted with a small giggle, smacking his arm playfully. “i don't consume that much sugar. it's called enjoying life, you should try it sometime.” megumi chuckled lightly at your retort, his gaze lazily drifting towards the pastries on display. “enjoying life is one thing. drowning it in excessive sweetness is another.” he shot you a teasing smirk, his eyes dancing with amusement.

you rolled your eyes in faux annoyance, giving his arm another light smack. “you’re just being a party pooper. i bet you're secretly jealous because I know how to savor the little things.” megumi chuckled again, enjoying the lighthearted banter. he found himself getting more comfortable as the conversation continued, the ease of your presence making it feel natural. but even with the casual teasing, a hint of affection snuck into his voice.

“jealous? if your sugar addiction? hardly.”

“shut up, just let me be,” you murmur, your voice tender and suffused with warmth. your arms, once wrapped around him, slowly release their hold and slide down to gently grasp his large hand. the warmth of your touch lingers through the fabric of his uniform, yet it ignites a searing sensation within him.

his gaze descends to where your hand clasps his thumb, noting the delicate strength in your touch. the crimson flush on your cheeks deepens as you avert your gaze, trying to hide the tumult of emotions roiling within. his heart quickens as he intertwines his fingers with yours, the connection between you both deepening with each intertwining motion.

in that quiet, intimate moment, the world seems to shrink to just the two of you. the warmth of your hands melds with his, bridging the space between your hearts, creating a sanctuary of understanding and unspoken promises.

as the minutes passed, the conversation flowed naturally. you talked about everything and nothing, your laughter a soothing balm to megumi's usually serious demeanor. the bustling café seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little world.

when the food arrived, you eagerly shared your dessert with megumi, insisting he try a bite. he obliged, savoring the sweet taste and the way your eyes lit up when he complimented it. “this is good,” he admitted, causing you to grin triumphantly. “i told you so,” you replied, your voice filled with delight. as the day turned into evening, the group eventually decided it was time to head back. you clung to megumi's arm once more, your presence a comforting constant. megumi's mind was filled with a thousand thoughts, each one circling back to you.

and in that moment, he realized that having you by his side wasn't just something he tolerated. it was something he cherished. you were the warmth in his life, the light that made even the busiest streets of tokyo feel like home.

the touch of your hand intertwined with his began to stir something deep within him. the vibrant cityscape of tokyo seemed to blur into the background as he focused on the warmth that lingered between your fingers. it was in this quiet, intimate moment that a profound realization dawned upon him.

he recalled the countless times he had seen you with others—always reaching out, always seeking a connection. it wasn’t merely the physical closeness you sought; it was something far more significant. your gestures were not just idle habits; they were expressions of trust and comfort, woven into the fabric of your interactions.

but now, as he looked down at your hand nestled in his, the truth became unmistakable. since the first time he had encountered you, your warmth and openness had been evident, but with him, there was a different layer of you, how each layer you handed to him with an open heart. you had always clung to him with a special kind of trust, a quiet confidence that set him apart from everyone else.

a sudden wave of humility washed over megumi. the way you rested your hand in his, the way you leaned into his presence, spoke volumes about the depth of your feelings. it was clear now that you saw him as someone steadfast and reliable, someone worthy of your most genuine trust. this simple, yet profound connection was a testament to how much you valued him.

as he felt the gentle pressure of your fingers against his, megumi's heart swelled with a newfound understanding. the touch was more than a mere physical contact; it was an embodiment of the bond that had grown between you. he was the only person you had allowed to be this close, to hold your trust in such a profound way.

he squeezed your hand softly, a tender acknowledgment of the connection that had woven itself so seamlessly into their lives. It was a silent vow—a promise to cherish and honor the trust you had bestowed upon him. in that fleeting moment, as the city’s din faded into insignificance, megumi felt the weight of the trust you had given him and knew it was a precious gift he would hold close to his heart.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Suuuuuup, I've been binging on your writing lately and I completely adore it (sometimes I go back through my likes to re read some of your stuff 💖💖)

So I'm dropping a scenario here.

Reader and Jason Todd have been roommates for quite some time (which means this would be a mutual pinning scenario), sometimes reader patches Jason up and orders some takeout for him. Until one night, Jason was too beaten up after a patrol so reader treated his bruises and scratches before helping him ease his back on his bed while reader sat down beside him. Jason begins with his dose of "you shouldn't be doing this" "I'm not a kid" "I can perfectly hand myself" then Jason starts questioning reader why they care so much about him and worry about him.

Until they reach the point where:

Jason: A prick like me? Yeah, sure.

Reader: Even pricks like you need someone who looks after them.

Jason: Careful, I might start thinking you like me or something if you keep saying things like that.

Reader: Maybe I do like you.

Honest Words

Haha, nonnie, do you even need me? You've got a great fic right there. I feel like I never actually write them getting together, so let me try something. ~ 600 words

'Maybe I do like you. Maybe I do like you.' The words play on loop in Jason's head as he stares at them. The silence goes on for too long and he forces himself to choke out a laugh, "You're joking. Not much to like here."

You tilt your head thoughtfully and hum, curious as you finish cleaning up his wounds, "I dunno, Jason, I see plenty to like."

"Like what?" He asks before he can stop himself. He winces a little, less from the stinging of his wounds and more at how interested he sounds in knowing what exactly you like about him.

"Lots of things," You muse, sitting back on the bed, "I like your eyes."

"My eyes?" He prompts, leaning towards you.

You nod, "They're pretty, and clear. Like you want to be seen. I like that you always let me touch your hair," You reach and brush his hair back to prove your point.

He smiles a little, "I don't think that's any reason to, you know," Jason trails off.

"I like that you're good. Even when you think you're not. You try. You try so hard even when the whole world seems like it's against you. You keep trying. You keep helping people."

His breath hitches at the raw honesty in your voice, the determination and truth in your eyes, "You're– you've never been against me."

You nod, and your gaze leaves him as you start to clean up the gauze and bandages from his bed, "and I won't be. Unless you do something crazy."

He laughs, it almost scares him, how easily you've read him. That you made him laugh even when his throat threatens to tighten and his mind threatens to spiral, "Crazier than what I've already done?"

You nod and grin at him, and it sets his world right, "Crazier than that, much crazier, actually."

He grins right back at you, "I'll keep that in mind for the next time I break the law."

You laugh with him and pat his knee, "Get some rest, Jason. You look like you've been through it tonight."

"I thought you liked how I looked?" He drawls, unable to keep from teasing.

"I do," you say happily, voice fond with affection he's not completely sure how to react to. You stand up, "Now, heal up, ok?"

"Wait," he stops you, grabbing your wrist. He doesn't have a plan, doesn't quite know what he's doing, but he wants you to stay.

"Yeah?" You ask, raising an eyebrow.

He sucks in a breath and guides you closer, slotting your body between his thighs. He looks up at you, the person who's become irreplaceable in his life. He carefully sets his palms over your hips.

"Jason," You breathe out, "You don't owe me anything."

"I know," he says, voice soft but firm, "I want this."

You cup his face with both hands, thumbs tracing his cheek bones as you study his eyes, picking apart the truth of his words, "Would you want me to kiss you?"

Jason leans into your touch and nods, he's not sure what this means for the future, for either of you, but you're being honest. You like him. And he likes you.

His heart is in his throat when you lean down to kiss him.

His eyes slid shut as you press your lips to his. He tilts his head up. It's sweet, loving, it's so completely you, and he gets lost in the feeling, chasing your mouth when you pull away.

"Okay?" You ask softly.

"Yeah," he breathes out, "more than okay."

You smile at him and trace the line of his jaw, "Good, now heal up, Jason."

He smiles back at you, voice light and teasing, "What? Don't wanna kiss me again?"

He smiles even wider when you tell him, on the way out his bedroom door, you can do all that and more once he's better.

[the-oblivious-writer]

Jealous Lover

Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader

One-shot

Summary: Your eagerness for discussions regarding your favorite band leads to an argument with your girlfriend

Warning(s): Swearing, no pronouns but sam uses 'girlfriend' once, jealous!sam, drunk!tara, & mentions of puking/gagging

Notes: For all the fellow passionate music lovers out there, this one's for you. Maybe one day I'll dive into how I think punk/rock in general's played a role in Sam's life and how she's passed down her love for music to Tara

This is not how you wanted to spend your night. You were dragged out to a party you didn’t even want to go to. You would much rather spend the night with your girlfriend. Much rather. But you kind of owed your friend since you always managed to make up an excuse for these things in the past. Her own girlfriend was out of town visiting family so you were second in line to be her plus one. 

You were actually having an okay time, still missing your girlfriend, but you ended up having an interesting conversation with this guy you met while grabbing drinks for you and your friend. The conversation regarded music. You could never pass up the opportunity to go on and on about something you actively worshiped. But unfortunately, this little peace you found didn’t last when from the corner of your eye you noticed a familiar figure tumbling her way over to the couch. It was then you looked over to see your girlfriend’s little sister sitting with her friends. 

Ah, crap.

You knew for a fact she was not supposed to be here. You thought about what was in store for her when she got home before excusing yourself and walking over to her.

“Tara,” you said to get her attention. “Hey, uh—”

She looked up from the couch to you with a bright smile plastered on her face before getting up and wrapping her arms around you, momentarily catching you off guard. You almost forgot she was a clingy drunk. 

“Look it’s Y/N!” She shouted to her friends as you subtly winced from her volume.

“Yeah, it’s me,” you shortly laughed. You looked over Tara to see her friends, Mindy and Anika, wave to you in which you returned with a nod. “I'll take this from here,” you told them while helping Tara up after she tripped on her own foot. 

Mindy gave you a thumbs up while Tara started to slump in your arms. “Tara?” You looked down to see her wearing a more tired expression that matched her sluggish demeanor. Another thing you noticed in the time you knew the girl is that she had quite a bit of mood swings. 

“Let’s get you home,” you said with a comforting pat on her shoulder. 

—

Sam could not believe Tara. She specifically told Tara no to the party she was now off to retrieve her from. She just got home from her therapy too, Quinn had accidently slipped and told Sam where Tara was before going back to her room. As soon as Sam heard this, she rushed to put on the jacket she had just taken off. 

“That sneaky little shi—” Sam was reaching for her taser but stopped once she heard the locks on the door begin to turn, stopping in her tracks. Tara walked through the door, hiccupping and giggling, as you held her up.

“You Carpenters are really something when you’re drunk—oh, Sam! Hi!” You stopped walking, now looking at your girlfriend like a deer in headlights. You knew she would be home by now. You knew you would have some explaining to do. Yet you still found yourself unprepared as you saw her standing right by the doorway because she was presumably getting ready to hunt down her sister.

“I have a perfectly good explanation for this,” you said.

She furrowed her eyebrows, tilting her head as she crossed her arms and looked at you. “Really? You do?” She looked so intimidating, so in control of the situation. It was so hot. But you had to focus.

“Mhm,” was the only thing you managed to muster.

“Then, please, enlighten me because it looks like my sister snuck off to a party against my wishes, yet you seem to be aware of that part. So, care to tell why you didn’t throw me in the loop?”

“Okay,” you lightly sighed. You nodded your head in the direction of the living room and Sam followed. You laid Tara on the couch before you finally spoke. “When I went there, I didn’t know she would also be there. We just ran into each other and as soon as we did I brought her here,” you calmly spoke and you could see Sam slowly start to ease at your words. 

Yet that ease only lasted so long before a drunk Tara pitched in. Sam was about to reply when she was cut off by the younger Carpenter. “And some guy was flirting with Y/N,” she said before stretching out her arms and dramatically yawning. 

Always an instigator. 

“Some guy was what?” You could hear it in Sam’s voice that any ease you brought her disapparated. If her voice didn’t give you anything, her expression certainly did; her eyebrows were scrunched as she clenched her jaw and flared her nostrils. 

“It wasn’t like that,” you quickly tried to reassure your girlfriend. “He noticed the album cover on my shirt and he said it's his favorite album. A conversation struck up but it was nothing more than two fans expressing their mutual appreciation for a band and their music.” 

“You talked about music?” Her tone was defensive as she adjusted her crossed arms, attempting a stoic stance to cover any hurt she felt upon hearing what you just revealed. 

She knew how much you valued music, what it meant to you. It isn’t like your love language, it is your love language. When you first started hanging out, instead of the typical bouquet of flowers, you made her a playlist, gifting it to her on a CD. Now she finds any excuse to listen to it 24/7, never growing sick of the intimate playlist you constructed with songs that you said made you think of her. Even on your first date with the older Carpenter, the two of you talked for hours discussing all the greats—from Kurdt Cobain to Jimi Hendrix. Sam also had a connection to music, growing up it was her escape from the outside world. So, inevitably, it played a big part in your relationship. You two met in a record store for Pete's sake. So yes, she grew a somewhat possessive once she found out you were discussing one of your all time favorite bands with a man who was supposedly flirting with you. 

“You sure that’s all he wanted to talk about? Wouldn't be the first time someone's blatantly flirted with you but you were too oblivious to notice.” She let out a dry chuckle, her voice vindictive. 

“Yes, that’s it. Music is all we talked about. What? Am I not allowed to talk to other people now?” You remarked, a little more unapologetic than you intended. Sam didn’t have a jealousy problem per se, she just had trouble drawing the line between possessive and protective. Often, those lines blurred to the point where even you had trouble telling them apart. 

Fine, maybe she did have a jealousy problem.

“Talking and flirting are two different things. Excuse me if I don’t want my girlfriend conversing with people who want more than musical insight,” Sam defended pointedly. 

“You’re saying that as if he was all over me. The point is he wasn’t.” Your patience was thinning as you were running out of reassuring words to say. 

“I’m—” Sam had begun but was once again cut off by Tara who was now gagging.

“Shit, I think I’m gonna puke!” Tara shouted as she tried to make it to the bathroom. You and Sam rushed to her aid, the both of you desperately hoping that you would get Tara to the bathroom in time. 

—

After about an hour of holding Tara’s hair back as she puked—you and Sam rotating—you and Sam finally managed to put a very pouty Tara to bed. As Sam adjusted Tara's pillow, you pulled her blanket over her and adjusted the sides. Sam kissed her forehead and you followed with a light pat on her head before the both of you said ‘goodnight’ to the now snoring girl. 

Upon hearing the soft click Tara’s bedroom door gave from gently closing it, the two of you let out exhausted sighs. You both walked to the kitchen, Sam leaning against the counter as you opened the cabinets looking for a mug.

“You want some tea?” You asked your girlfriend, already grabbing the lavender tea she stored in the drawers just below where the mugs were kept. 

You glanced over to see her nodding, giving you a nonverbal answer. You got the tea kettle out and filled it with water using the kitchen sink. You then placed it on the stove, set the heat to an appropriate temperature, and then placed the small box of lavender tea to the side for when the water is finished boiling. Another moment of silence passes before you divert your attention from the kettle to your girlfriend. 

“Sam…”  You finally spoke in a gentle voice.

“I know.” She wasn’t curt with her words but understanding. 

You lightly exhaled, making your way over next to Sam. You leaned against the counter before asking, “Are you gonna talk to me or just try to wait it out like every other time?” You weren’t demanding but genuinely asking her.

You looked at her, your faces not so far apart, you saw the reluctant and shameful look she wore. This made you slightly furrow your eyebrows as you looked at the woman. 

“I hate the thought of you with anyone else,” she answered. She looked to the ground in shame. Shame for letting her thoughts consume her like this, shame for letting it lead to an argument with you. What if you discovered just how deep her jealousy ran? You would leave her, that’s what. At least, that’s what she told herself would happen.

You lifted her chin with your free hand so she would look at you, but you saw her eyes hesitate to comply. “Look at me, Sammy,” you told her and it was enough for her to listen. “I’m yours and only yours. No one else can have me like you do. No one else,” you said with great truth. 

Sam’s heart skipped a beat at your words, melting at how your thumb softly grazed her chin. Your touch could have her crumble in mere seconds. That scares apart of her, but another part of her can't help but admire it.

“I was being ridiculous.” She shook her head, still feeling guilt for giving you a hard time for talking about something you’re passionate about.

“That’s in the past now.” You gave her a smile that’s always been enough to brighten her days. “Just know you’re the only music dork I want in my bed,” you teased.

A gorgeous smile grazed Sam’s face at this comment. “Oh, yeah? I feel the exact same way about you,” she said as you both began to lean in.

“Good, we balance each other out,” you flirted back right before you two closed the gap between you, your lips meeting halfway. Her lips were warm and soft, and you could taste her nightly cigarette on them. You tilted your head and parted your own lips to deepen the kiss and give her tongue access, but the forgotten tea kettle on the stove whistled, interrupting the kiss before it could escalate. 

You and Sam broke apart, slightly panting, as you both wore shit eating grins. “I should go set up the tea,” you said with warm cheeks.

Sam nodded with an, “Okay,” but her eyes never pulled from your back as you prepared the tea. She subtly walked up behind you, putting her hands on your hips and rested her chin on your shoulder.

“Sammy,” you lightly laughed in an excited surprise. 

“Bring the tea to my room and don’t take too long. I wanna finish where we left off,” she whispered into your ear in a husky voice. You could feel her breath against your neck due to this, your heart racing in response. 

Sam sauntered off to her room, but not without leaving a kiss just below the corner of your jaw. If you noticed her taking a subtle bite then you didn’t comment. The kiss sent shivers down your spine, and after snapping out of the daze Sam put you in, you quickly went back to the tea. You never made tea so briskly before tonight. 

Later, Sam kept on her promise. She may have left a few hickeys for the world to see but you could never prove she did it with possessive intent.

That was just for her to know.

-----------

A/N: and if I said y/n was wearing an 'In Utero' shirt?? (ofc, imagine whatever shirt you'd like)

[leilanihours]

🗝️, + 2 + kate martin

# EVERY LOOK, EVERY TOUCH MAKES ME WANNA GIVE YOU MY HEART

pairing: kate martin x reader

word count: 722

warnings: none !

prompt: "i love it when you laugh"

⭑ from lani: i dont actually know if kate wore makeup to the draft but for the sake of this lets say she did! 🤗

celly masterlist !

main masterlist !

YOU PLACE YOUR hands on kate's shoulders as you gently push her to sit down on the cushioned chair before you.

"remind me again why i let you do this?" she jokes, referring to how she gave you permission to do a light makeup look on her for the 2024 wnba draft.

"because you love me and i'm the best makeup artist in the world?" you shrug with a slight pour on your lips.

"oh right," she smiles, "that."

you stand in front of kate as you dig through your makeup bag on the table beside you. she sat patiently, gazing up at you as you work swiftly. her large hands found comfort on your hips as you temporarily towered over her.

kate didn't want anything too heavy, as she wasn't big on makeup. you settled, of course, also agreeing that a subtle makeup look would be a better fit for her.

"what's that?" the blonde asks as you work on her lashes.

by now, you had already applied light layers of skin tint and blush, not too much so as to not hide her gorgeous freckles.

"an eyelash comb, it makes the mascara less clumpy," you explain as you brush through her long lashes.

you were so focused on the task at hand that you failed to notice the way kate had been staring at you with nothing but adoration. you also hadn't noticed that when you braced yourself by placing a hand on kate's jawline, she slowly leaned into your touch.

when you finished touching up her lashes, you took a step back to admire your work, or more realistically, your girlfriend in general.

she sat there like a little puppy looking into your eyes lovingly with a small smile on her face. seeing her expression made you mirror her grin, falling victim to her dreamy blue eyes.

"you're so cute," you giggle as you watch her blush even behind the pink you had brushed on earlier.

"thanks for doing this, baby," kate says looking in the mirror next to her, "i actually look presentable."

"oh please," you scoff, "you're so much more than presentable. even without makeup. it's, like, almost rude how naturally beautiful you are."

"c'mere," she mumbles, pulling you closer to her by grabbing your belt loops.

you lean down and embrace the kiss, smiling as you feel her lips fit perfectly with yours. but it made you remember you had one more step to do.

pulling away with wide eyes you exclaim, "i forgot about your lips!"

"should i be offended?" she jokes, placing a hand on her chest in pretend hurt.

you simply laugh and shake your head before reaching into your purse to retrieve the lip products you use on yourself.

she can't help but smile at the ticklish feeling of your smooth lip liner against her skin.

"don't move, baby," you whisper, focused on not messing up.

she stays silent, not wanting to interrupt. however, she can't help herself when she gets the idea to tease you even further.

once you finish lining her lips and swiping on some lipgloss, she immediately starts attacking your face with light kisses - your cheeks, your temple, your jaw, everywhere.

"kate!" you yelp at the feeling, "you're gonna mess up your lips!"

"well then you can fix them up for me," she mumbles against your skin.

you can't help but laugh as you just let her continue kissing you, the sound consuming kate's senses.

she backs up from you, tilting her head up to smile her biggest smile yet.

"what?" you chuckle.

"i love it when you laugh," she says honestly.

"stop," you blush.

"i love it even more when i'm the one making you laugh," she adds.

"i can't believe i get to be a 'wag' to the best basketball player ever," you sigh in content. as you begin packing up your makeup products.

"if i even get drafted," kate grumbles to herself.

"quit it with that," you demand, "you're the most talented yet stubborn person i know. you have to be more confident in yourself."

"fine," she says, "only so i can help you fulfill your dream of being a 'wag.'"

"my hero," you laugh.

"there it is again," she grins as she stands up from her seat to kiss you again, "the best sound to ever grace this universe."

— leilani signing off ! 📁

[saintbarou]

tags: 18+ minors dni / fem reader / fingering / reader is mexican / spanish / religious imagery / aftercare / hinted virginity loss / penetration /2.6k/ pwp - let me know if i miss something.

synopsis: javier escuella feels an all encompassing desire to have you. you feel it too, maybe even more.

Javier laughs into your lips, you are kissing him with the reverence of the faithful. You kiss sweetly, gently with the undercut of hunger he is all too happy to sate. Your form is soft beneath his hands, flesh pillabe like the strings on his guitar and the trigger of his revolver - the hollow of his palms filled with the curve of your hips. Javier nips at your lip until he can hear you hiss from the sting among your sighs from the pleasure of having him suck on your tongue.

“I can’t believe you - all I did was kiss you,” he stops to puff a breathe against your lips snickering at the dazed look on your face and the glistening spit on your lips, “and now you’re letting me fuck you.”

You whine, high and embarrassed but so unbearably needy and pressing yourself up against him like a cat in heat. There’s a little gold necklace threaded along the slopes of your collar - it glints against your untouched and unblemished skin like a comet, looping along your form in a circle until completion where it stays in perpetual orbit. Javier doesn’t know if he should be jealous of the thin necklace or not.

Your nightgown is off, spread out on the ground and Javier’s eyes are caught on the pendant that holds the face of La Virgen that glints in the lowlight of his tent - his eyes meet hers and he feels a shiver against his spine. Of course she would be there, looped above your too-good heart and appearing before him. It almost pains him to touch you, the holiness of your skin burning his palms that are too greedy to stay away.

You gasp his name and it brings him back to you - it brings his lips to your chest and you sigh as your hands twist on the fabric of his shirt clad shoulders like you are scared to touch him. You still have your bloomers, the white cotton stark against his tan hands and he presses another kiss right above your heart as it stutters tucked away in your ribs.

“Esta bien hermosa - you can touch me.” The pet name makes you tremble, whining when the word graces your flushed ears. Hermosa, meaning beautiful or gorgeous in the language your mother would sing you to when you were a girl. Your nostalgia brings desperation and it only serves to make you needier, wanting for more of the man above you like how priests desire the light of God. You think of that ill-stricken Reverend that wanders this camp and something aches in your chest as you let your hands go over the curve of his shoulders and anchor yourself there. Teeth aching with each suck on your tongue you don’t notice it when your bloomers are off until the brisk cool night breeze dances on your bare thighs. The skin there is hot and growing more so when he lets his hands settle on the smooth skin.

It’s almost comical how perfectly you fit in his roughed hands, his callouses from his knife so seamlessly accepted by the plush of your thighs. Like the velvet cushions rich men sit in their gilded train cars and golden stagecoaches. You go from velvet to wet silk with simple touches and you moan something sweetly into his ear as his face goes to your chest and his hands in between your thighs. The backs of his knuckles tease the wetness of your slick that leaks like honey and Javier lets his lips kiss the bud of your nipple softly but not without letting his teeth have their own kiss at the edge to make you whine.

“You are so wet, leaking for me - you’ll make a mess on my pants mi amor.” His teasing is endless and you can hear that smile you see whenever you blink. You jumble out a half-assed apology and it makes Javier laugh at you again. He must have you in quite the state if it’s making your perfectly trained manners fall off like wool when faced with sheep shears. His fingers have made their way to where you are the most needy - letting them pet along the slit and cup at your mound. You moan his name, oh so, softly when he squeezes gently, cradling your most delicate part the same way he cradles the neck of his guitar.

“Javi - please, please.” The shortened version of his name makes him grin, shivering pleasantly at how affection given only to him melts into his ears like syrup.

“Ya se, ya se. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you tonight.” Dark eyes are wicked at how they glint in the low orange light of his tent as he lets one finger slip in. He reclines himself back so he can watch how you take him.

Javier does not profess how he would take care of you every night for the rest of the nights you have in your life.

You whine thinly into the air, and it makes him hiss at how tight you are around his one finger.

“Relax, chiquita - I can’t take care of you when you’re all tense like this. Shh, shh,” he murmurs to you and in return you whine with a nod; pliable and sweet for him as you let your legs shuffle more open, working on letting him in and letting him deeper. One finger turns to two, and they curl into you cruelly without respite for how you weep and sniffle at the pleasure he tugs from you like music from his guitar strings. Your mouth is hanging open, drool shining on your lips as you let out thin little sounds.

You feel full, and pleasure dances along your spine as his thumb plays with the glimmering pearl of your clit. You whine - no sing his name like gospel and it makes something inside his stomach preen like a peacock.

Javier is dedicated, giving you an even pace and deep curls of his fingers to make you soft and loose for him. Dark brown eyes watch you with the precision of a predator - eagerly taking in how sweat drips down the middle of your breasts and how your jaw drops to make out little pants of his name just for him to hear. His fingers do just enough to bring you to the edge, and you stutter over your words as you push at his wrist with the desperation that is unbecoming of you. Etiquette and education are long gone from your mind as you beg him with an addled mind.

“Please, please not - not like that,” you stutter and let out soft little moans in between each word as Javier remains unmoved; letting his fingers stay inside you at their same pace, dark brown eyes taking in how even this almost makes you weep in pleasure. His cock stirs in his jeans at how it will be when he’s inside of you, filling you well beyond anything you’ve ever had.

“No, like this - it will hurt if you don’t cum now.” He mutters, voice thick with lust as he watches your hips twitch and jump when you have begun to hit the highest peak of your pleasure. Your body is eager for his fingers, tightening and fluttering around them as you leak down to his palm. Javier goes to shush you but you’re a good girl he realizes, watching you with a grin at how your hands shoot up to your mouth to muffle your long winded whines when you crash and cum for him. His voice is soft, reassuring you as you ride out your pleasure with the trembling of your hips and the quickened rising falls of your chest.

“Just like that - like that. There you go, there you go. Cum for me, give me this one and I’ll give you another.” He promises you, his accent thick as he watches your eyes go dark and unfocused as you burn with hot desire for him until he hears your broken voice mumble; “There’s more?”

He laughs. Teasingly, adoringly, lovingly and so many other words he can’t quite say.

“Si mi vida, there is always more with me. That I can promise you.”

Again, he laughs at the way he feels you twitch around his fingers that have stilled inside at the prospect of what more entails. He won’t admit to how his cock twitches in time with you tucked away in his pants.

You whine at the idea, hot at the image of being filled with all of him and whine again when his fingers slip out of you. Gossamer strands of your cum follow them, only to break and splatter along the inside of your flushed thighs. Javier smiles the same charming smile as when he sings and soothes you by rubbing your thigh with one hand while the other goes to undo his belt buckle.

You don’t see the length of him, only feel the heat of him against the petals of your cunt and it’s enough for you to yelp like some poor animal caught in a trap. Javier is bent over you, the build of his slim body covering you with his elbow supporting him above your head, eyes attuned to the half lit scene before him. You, sweating enough to make strands of your hair stick your flushed face with your eyes half lidded and mouth parted. His hips move without him thinking, coating his length in your glimmering release and rubbing against your still sensitive clit that it makes you flinch - mewling his name in a wet and defeated tone that makes him huff in half fondness-half teasing.

“Javi-” you whine, hotter than you have ever been and voice cracking when the head of his cock brushes past your entrance and makes its way in. You gasp into his mouth, one hand coming to cover your eyes and the other gripping at the fabric of his shoulder. Javier sighs against your lips and kisses you to muffle his own noises - higher pitched than he’d like to admit they are lost in between your two mouths as you take another inch of him. He is long, he knows this and you are tight ; tighter than anyone else he’s ever been with due to your lack of experience so he is slow with you despite how he wants to devour you entirely with one stroke.

Javier is tactical when he wants to be and is more than practical when he has to be so he controls himself, letting you have him inch by torturous inch. You are panting, throwing your head back in a way that lets him catch the tears that make it down your cheek and are uncovered by your hand. With one hand he bats away yours until your face - glistening and flushed is revealed to him as your mouth shines with drool from pleasure. His thumb goes to wipe away a tear and you move to feel the warmth of him more closely.

“Why are you crying hermosa, hm?” He asks you, sighing at how you take more of him so sweetly. You don’t respond only squealing and squeezing around him as you lose more of yourself on his cock. Half of him is seated inside you, enough for you to moan his name brokenly as you beg for more despite you wincing when he moves. Javier grunts and stops, letting the half of him that’s inside you stay still to let you breathe

“You can,” you pant, “you can put the whole thing in - please, please put it in.” You beg, and a thrill goes up his spine at the idea of seeing you weep from his cock being too much runs across his mind before he pushes it to the side. You are far too sweet, too delicate to be treated so roughly by him. You aren’t a working girl he can forget about come morning but the woman he wants to wake up to, which is why it’s easy for him to do what he thinks to be best.

He denies you.

“No, this is -” he sighs deeply at the way you feel around him - slick and wet and wanting for him to give you more until it aches. “This is enough. You’ll take the rest next time.” You whine at the thought and whine again when he pulls his slim hips back to fuck you like that. He gives you slow, careful thrusts with the hand that cradles your face sneaking down to rub at your pulsing clit with gentle precision. It’s almost too much for you, he notes and he feels bad that the sight of you weeping on half his cock, losing your mind with your eyes glassy from tears is doing it more for him than anything else.

You’ve always been a proper girl, ever since he saw you on your horse in the snow of Colter looking at him with the sweetest eyes framed by snowflakes. There’s a sick pleasure tugging at his stomach at how he has you now, manners gone and all you are now is debauched and drunk on him. It’s almost enough to make him finish and clearly it’s enough to get you there too by the way you weep out the little nickname you gave him.

“Javi, Javi, ’m going to -” He cuts you off with a punched out exhale, grinding his molders to keep from cumming inside by how you keep tightening around him like a vice.

“Go let go for me, mi amor - you’ve been so good.” With that you break, voice so ruined it cracks when you whine out babbles of precious thank yous in his ear as you come to completion a second and last time for the night. It’s painful, the last drag he gets of your cunt before he tugs at his sticky and slick cock to shoot his spend against the mound of your cunt. The sight of him dripping down to your twitching lower half more than makes up for it and he is more than willing to bend back over you to press gentle kiss after kiss on your panting lips. Your eyes had fluttered close and you babbled mindlessly under his gentle touches as you slowly came back down to look up at him with blearily eyes. Javier smiles at you with all the tenderness of the world when you wrap your arms around his neck - he manages to settle on his side with you in his arms and you tuck your face into his neck. You nuzzle the skin and sight softly, eyes red and half lidded tired from all he has pulled for you. Javier is soft with you, spoiling you by letting his nails scratch your scalp the way you like.

“Rest mi vida, I’ll clean you up.” he murmurs into your hair, presses a kiss to the crown of your head. You hum, murmur his name and a soft little confession of love before your eyes slip shut. You shiver when the soft fabric of a pocket square wipes at the mess of your swollen cunt and whine when you are moved to have your nightgown pulled over your head. Through your fussing Javier remains gentle, whispering praise as he settles you to his chest to sleep. When you awake you’ll be faced with teasing you thought you were quiet enough to avoid but that can wait. Now your eyes are heavy and Javier’s heartbeat is soothing - anything else can wait as for now you want for nothing else.

[agentmarvel]

i've been thinking about this for days, so here y'all go.

part i |♡| part ii

sugar daddy!könig x fat!reader

mdni - 18+; minors and ageless blogs will be blocked

könig, whose bank account contains millions that he has neither the time nor desire to spend himself.

könig, who learns about the sugaring community from stiletto and roze, surprisingly, and educates himself, finding himself quite interested.

newly minted sugar daddy!könig, who joins a website, hoping to meet a sweet, plump little thing to keep him company in his off time, accompany him to events he really doesn't want to be at, and is willing to be patient with him and stay in touch, though spotty, through deployments in exchange for everything she could possibly want.

sugar daddy!könig, who matches with you after several less than ideal encounters, boring conversations, and dozens of left swipes over the course of a year. he finds himself immediately enamored with your photos; you’re stunning, exactly his type.

sugar daddy!könig, who has a hard time talking himself out of sending you a large sum immediately just for a moment of your undivided attention, but ultimately decides against it, lest you only be interested in those deposits off the bat.

sugar daddy!könig, who learns you're a full-time student with limited means of support, given you aren't exactly a local. he could be the support you need, he thinks.

sugar daddy!könig, who is so thoroughly pleased with how you conduct yourself through messages, neglecting the matter of his finances almost entirely while you try to connect with him personally. after nearly a month of exchanging messages, he makes his first offer - daily pictures for payments. nothing lewd, not yet, but he's interested in seeing more than the same six photos he looks at daily on your profile.

sugar daddy!könig, who sends €500 per photo per day. you catch on quick, doubling or tripling up on them after a week; one before you head to class, one before you go to bed. but after the third time he sends multiple payments, you send a message telling him it's not necessary.

>>> I like sending the pictures! Your reactions are always so kind, and it makes my day! 🥰

sugar daddy!könig, who turns bright red at that and insists that he keep up his end of the bargain, but gives extra attention to detail in his responses.

sugar daddy!könig, who grows anxious to meet you face-to-face; broaching the subject proves difficult when he struggles to find the right words. luckily for him, you're a bit bolder, inquiring about events he mentioned, hoping to find chemistry on an actual date of sorts.

sugar daddy!könig, who is all too quick to agree to meet up with you. he warns you that he's painfully awkward, apologizes in advance on a loop, and warns you of his behemoth stature - a factor of intimidation for many, and he doesn't want to scare you off.

sugar daddy!könig, who adores your acceptance of his self-perceived flaws and shuts down the insecurities that you voice on your own behalf. your photos are not deceptive; he can see that you're a bigger girl (exactly what he wanted), and no amount of lighting, angle, or editing that could hide the most beautiful things about you.

sugar daddy!könig, who spends the next several days in a spiral over the date, stressing every miniscule detail until he chews a hole in his lip. his hands shake as he buttons his shirt, leg bouncing with nervous energy during the drive, fidgeting while he awaits your arrival...

sugar daddy!könig, who almost leaves when you're a mere five minutes late, berating himself internally for being blinded by optimism. he has to set his glass down in fear of breaking it in his tense grip.

sugar daddy!könig, who has to pick his jaw up from the floor when he catches sight of the hostess bringing you to the table. you're wearing a shy smile and a gorgeous dress that hugs your curves perfectly, and for the briefest moment, he swears he's in love.

[perfectsunlight]

[20] I CAN DO IT WITH A BROKEN HEART

warnings: mentions of abortion, malicious statements, mental breakdown

SBS GAYO DAEJUN, 2018

jennie dabbed her eyes, doing her best to not ruin her stage makeup. her chest felt tight, the screen displaying the most recent message from the father of her daughter. the air in the small bathroom stall felt almost suffocating as she stared at the words that had shattered her world just moments before.

the message played on a loop in her mind, the words searing into her memory like a brand. her hands trembled as she read it again, as if hoping that the letters might rearrange themselves into something less devastating. but they didn't. 

the reality was unchangeable—he wanted to come back. but jennie refused to let that happen.

the idol’s breath hitched as she fought to hold back another wave of tears. she couldn't let herself fall apart, not now, not when she was moments away from stepping on stage. no one else knew what had happened, and she intended to keep it that way. the last thing she needed was her heartache becoming a headline for the media, or another dagger they could use against her or her daughter.

she forced herself to take a deep breath, closing her eyes and focusing on the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. inhale, exhale. inhale, exhale. it was a mantra, a desperate attempt to keep herself grounded.

there was a knock on the bathroom door, startling her from her thoughts. “jennie, five minutes!” a staff member called out, their voice cutting through the suffocating silence that had settled around her.

jennie glanced at herself in the mirror, her reflection a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil brewing inside her. her makeup was flawless, her outfit perfectly styled, every detail meticulously crafted to present the image of a confident, untouchable idol. 

but behind her carefully constructed facade, she was unraveling.

she pressed her lips together, applying a final coat of lipstick to seal the cracks in her composure. “you can do this,” she whispered to herself, “for her sake.” 

the memory of his words cut deep, sharper than she ever imagined. they echoed in her mind, pulling her further into the pain she was trying so desperately to ignore. jennie squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back the tears threatening to spill. 

she couldn’t let anyone see her like this, especially not jane. 

ivory was everything to her. her little girl was innocent, unaware of the turmoil that had just shattered her mother’s heart. jennie knew she had to protect that innocence, to shield her daughter from the pain that had been inflicted on her. she would fight through the heartbreak, smile through the tears, and give everything she had on stage, just like she always did.

a knock on the door startled her. “jennie, it’s time,” one of the staff called out.

i can read your mind

"she's having the time of her life"

she took a deep breath, forcing herself to stand up and smooth out her outfit. the weight of her heartbreak was heavy, but the thought of her daughter gave her strength. as she stepped out of the dressing room, she felt the familiar rush of adrenaline begin to course through her veins. 

the stage was her escape, her sanctuary, and tonight, it would be the only thing holding her together.

“hey,” rosé gently grabbed her by the shoulder and looked her friend up and down. “are you okay?” jennie stiffened at her touch, her carefully maintained composure threatening to crumble under the concern in her friend’s eyes. she forced a smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and nodded.

“yeah, i’m fine,” jennie replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside her. “just tired, you know?”

the blonde studied her for a moment, her brow slightly furrowed with worry. “you don’t have to pretend with me,” she said softly. “i know something’s wrong. if you need to talk—” jennie shook her head quickly, cutting her off. ]

“not now. we have a show to do. i can’t let anything distract me from that.”

rosie hesitated, clearly wanting to press further, but she knew jennie well enough to recognize when the older girl had made up her mind. “alright,” she said, letting her hand drop from jennie’s shoulder. “just remember, i’m here if you need me.”

“thanks, rosie,” jennie whispered, grateful for her friend’s understanding.

with one last nod, rosé stepped back, allowing jennie to continue her path toward the stage. as jennie walked away, she could feel rosé’s eyes on her, the concern practically radiating off her. it took everything in jennie not to turn back, not to collapse into her friend’s arms and let out the sobs that were clawing at her chest.

but she couldn’t afford that luxury. not tonight, especially since she was performing her solo first.

there in her glittering prime

the lights refract sequined stars off her silhouette every night

the stage lights hit her like a wave as she stepped into view, and the roar of the crowd surged around her, a cacophony of sound that drowned out the pain, if only for a moment. jennie forced herself to smile, to move with the music, to perform like nothing was wrong. she was an expert at this—hiding behind the idol persona. no one in the audience could see the cracks in her facade, the tears she had fought so hard to hold back.

there was a sea of people, hundreds of faces blurring together into a moving tide of lights and cheers. jennie’s eyes skimmed over the crowd, her smile firmly in place as she hit every beat with practiced precision. her body moved fluidly, as if on autopilot, each step and spin rehearsed to perfection. but her mind was miles away, trapped in the echo of her ex-boyfriend’s harsh words, the cold reality of the breakup weighing on her heart.

she barely registered the applause between verses, her focus only snapping back into place when the next note cued her in. it was almost cruel, how well she could switch on the charm, delivering every line with a confidence that belied the turmoil churning beneath the surface.

meanwhile, underneath the stage, the other members were watching jennie’s performance from the monitors. they knew her well—well enough to see the subtle tension in her shoulders and the fleeting moments where her eyes didn’t quite sparkle like they usually did.

“unnie’s really pushing herself,” lisa murmured, biting her lip as she watched jennie hit her marks flawlessly. the maknae’s usual playful demeanor was replaced with worry, her eyes glued to the screen.

“she’s been like this all day,” jisoo added, her tone low and serious. as the oldest, she often played the role of the steadying force among them, but even she couldn’t hide the unease in her voice. she knew something was wrong, but she wouldn’t dare press jennie about it now—not when they were about to perform. “you know how she gets when something’s bothering her. she just locks it away and keeps going.” she continued, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied her friend on the screen. “it’s like she’s forcing herself, and it’s making me nervous.”

rosé was silent, her gaze fixed intently on jennie’s figure as it moved across the stage. out of the three of them, rosé felt the most attuned to her friend’s emotions. there was something deeper gnawing at their unofficial leader tonight, something that couldn’t be easily brushed off. 

but jennie was stubborn—once she decided to bury her feelings, it was nearly impossible to get her to open up.

“she’s performing like nothing’s wrong, but…” rosé’s voice trailed off, her brow furrowed in concern. the slight tremble in jennie’s voice during one of the softer notes hadn’t gone unnoticed by her. it was so brief, so faint that the audience would never catch it, but to rosé, it was a crack in jennie’s usually flawless facade.

lisa looked between her members, uncertain. “should we say something when we come up? maybe cheer her up?” jisoo immediately shook her head gently. “not before the group stage. we can’t do anything now.”

“but we’ll keep an eye on her,” rosé said firmly, her resolve clear. “after the performance, let’s stay close. she might not say anything, but we’ll be there when she’s ready.” the conversation fell into silence as they watched jennie continue to command the stage, pouring everything she had into the performance.

her confidence was undeniable—hips swaying, eyes piercing through the crowd, a playful smirk on her lips—but to those who knew her best, it was almost painful to witness.

i can show you lies (one, two, three, four)

“okay,” the sound engineer’s voice echoed through her in-ears. “blackpink, stand by for group stage.”

the final beats of solo reverberated through the arena, and the applause thundered in response. jennie flashed her signature grin before the stage lights dimmed, giving her a brief moment to herself. but underneath the stage, her members knew that the show wasn’t over yet—for jennie or for them.

above them, the stage crew was already preparing for the next transition. jennie’s solo ended with a stunning pose, and the crowd roared in approval as the lights dimmed. for a split second, the screen caught jennie’s face as the spotlights faded—and that brief glimpse was all rosé needed to see the exhaustion hiding behind her friend’s eyes.

“we’re coming, jennie.” jisoo muttered to herself as they felt the platform beneath them start to rise. 

as the girls were lifted up onto the stage, jennie was waiting for them at the center, already in position for ddu-du ddu-du.

'cause i'm a real tough kid, i can handle my shit

they said, "babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and i did

they knew better than to question her now. the best way they could support jennie in that moment was by giving her the strength to lean on them during the performance.

as the iconic beat of ddu-du ddu-du dropped, the girls synced up perfectly, falling into formation as if nothing was amiss. the energy was electrifying, the choreography sharp and fierce, and the crowd’s cheers were deafening.

but despite the adrenaline surging through them, each of the members was hyper-aware of jennie, subtly positioning themselves closer to her throughout the routine. they exchanged brief glances, small silent promises passing between them: we’ve got you.

for the audience, blackpink’s performance was flawless, another powerhouse display of charisma and talent.

jennie could feel the intensity of the moment—the lights, the beats, the deafening cheers—but her mind kept drifting elsewhere. despite the sharp movements and fierce expressions she was nailing, the image of her daughter, jane, lingered in the back of her thoughts.

is she okay? did she eat dinner properly? did she miss me today?

jennie’s heart tightened with every question. she knew jane was in good hands with her mom, but nothing could fully ease the ache of being away from her, especially after now knowing her father was back in the picture. it was the one thing jennie had dreaded the most—his reappearance, his attempts to insert himself into their lives after being absent for so long.

the thought of him trying to play the role of a father now, after everything he had done, made jennie’s blood boil.

does jane even think about having a dad? jennie wondered, trying to push the thoughts away. she didn’t want to believe that he could undo all the stability she and her mother had worked so hard to build. but the uncertainty gnawed at her, distracting her even as she performed in front of thousands.

rosé glanced over at jennie, sensing the tension radiating off her despite the bright smiles they all had to maintain. for a split second, their eyes met, and rosé’s brow furrowed in concern. but jennie looked away quickly, biting down on her lip and focusing on the choreography.

i can’t think about him right now, jennie told herself, even as the thoughts kept creeping in. i just need to get through this, then i’ll deal with it.

but the truth was, she had been dealing with it—every sleepless night spent worrying about how to protect jane from the storm that was threatening to come. she had sacrificed so much to keep her daughter safe, to give her the things she never had growing up. 

but now, it felt like all of that could be at risk.

lights, camera, bitch smile, even when you wanna die

he said he'd love me all his life

on top of that, jennie couldn’t forget how he left her heart in ruins. the betrayal, the abandonment—it all resurfaced whenever she thought about him. she had moved on, or at least tried to, but the scars he left ran deep. the way he disappeared when she needed him most, only to reappear now, as if he had any right to disrupt the life she had built with jane.

what did he want? the idol wondered as she moved in sync with her members, executing each step with practiced precision. the stage lights blazed down on them, the fans’ cheers swelling as the performance reached its peak. jennie spun into her next move, but her mind was still clouded with thoughts of him. 

why now? what could he possibly want after all this time?

as the intro of forever young approached, jennie forced herself to stay focused, her expression cool and confident, masking the turmoil swirling beneath. but her mind kept circling back to the message she had received earlier. he hadn’t said much, but the implications of his sudden reappearance were enough to send her spiraling.

she shot a quick glance at her members. lisa was next to her, radiating energy, while rosé and jisoo were singing their hearts out just a few feet away. they were giving it their all, and jennie hated that she couldn’t be fully present with them. 

but the questions wouldn’t stop. she loved that man once, and despite everything, a part of her still ached at the thought of him, even now. it was a complicated mix of emotions that she couldn't entirely shake off.

but that life was too short

breaking down, i hit the floor

she still remembered the night he left, how she had sunk to the floor once he was gone, the tears coming in waves.  how each breath felt like a fresh blow to her heart, and the emptiness in that cheap hotel room was palpable. she remembered how she called him again and again, her voice growing hoarse with desperation, but he never answered.

when he finally did call back, his tone was icy, devoid of any trace of the affection he once held for her. “jennie,” he hissed, his voice dripping with arrogance, “i'm done. if you call me again about this–” he paused, as if considering the right word, "—this mess, i will make sure you are ruined. you hear me?”

his lack of remorse was chilling. he spoke with a casual disdain, as though the life they had shared meant nothing. the way he spoke about their future, their child, was cold and indifferent. “get rid of it.”  he continued, his words cutting through the air like ice. jennie’s heart sank as she heard those words. 

they were not just a rejection of her; they were a rejection of everything she had hoped for. the future she had envisioned, the dreams she had nurtured, were dismissed with such casual cruelty that it left her breathless.

“think about what you’re doing,” he said dismissively. “you should be grateful i’m even talking to you. you’ve got no idea what this will do to me if someone finds out. just deal with it and move on.”

each word was a harsh reminder of the disparity between their lives. to him, their child was an inconvenience, a complication he was unwilling to endure. he spoke as though the responsibility was solely hers, as though his involvement was a mere inconvenience he could easily discard.

the finality in his voice made it clear that he had already moved on, leaving jennie to face the consequences alone. as the call ended, jennie was left in the silence of her own despair, the weight of his rejection settling heavily on her shoulders.

standing on stage, amidst the flashing lights and the roaring crowd, jennie was a performer hiding behind a mask of confidence. but beneath the surface, she was still that woman in the hotel room, grappling with the cruel words of a man who had abandoned her and their child.

all the pieces of me shattered as the crowd was chanting, "more"

their voices echoed around her, demanding more energy, more smiles, more of the persona she had so carefully crafted. each cheer felt like a piercing reminder of the gap between who she was on stage and the turmoil she carried inside.

jennie danced and sang, her movements precise, her smile bright but hollow. each note she hit was a reminder of her inner strength, a battle against the pain she felt. she watched her reflection in the stage lights, seeing the shimmer of her costume and the fierce look in her eyes, but she felt far removed from the image she projected.

in those moments between the songs, as the music swelled and the audience roared, jennie tried to push her personal anguish aside. the performance was her sanctuary, a place where she could momentarily escape the reality of her life. but as each song ended, the memories of that cold, dismissive voice crept back in, making it hard to hold onto her focus.

the last notes of "forever young" rang out, and jennie took a deep breath, her heart still heavy with the echoes of the past. as the crowd cheered, she gave one final, dazzling smile, pushing through the last vestiges of her pain.

i was grinning like i'm winning, i was hitting my marks

'cause i can do it with a broken heart (one, two, three, four)

“blackpink, stand by for lift.” the stage manager’s voice crackled through the earpieces. signaling the end of their performance.

jennie took one last deep breath, trying to steady herself before the final bow. the energy from the crowd still buzzed in her veins, but the weight of her emotional turmoil was beginning to settle heavily on her shoulders. the familiar routine was a temporary respite, but reality was waiting just outside the stage doors.

as they made their way backstage, jennie forced herself to maintain a composed facade. her bandmates were still close, their concern evident in their whispered conversations and fleeting glances. jennie appreciated their support, even if she wasn’t ready to open up about the turmoil inside her.

the idol quickly changed out of her stage outfit, her movements automatic and second nature. every action was a reflection of her need to escape the intensity of the night and the prying eyes that followed her every step. her hands shook slightly as she slipped into a more casual ensemble, the comfort of familiar clothes offering a small reprieve from the glamorous but constricting stage attire. she avoided looking at herself in the mirror, focusing instead on the task of packing away her stage wardrobe.

the paparazzi waiting outside the venue loomed in her mind, a reminder of the ever-present scrutiny. she knew that once she stepped outside, the flashes would resume, capturing every tear she fought so hard to keep at bay. as jennie finished changing, her friends remained nearby, their quiet presence a source of silent support. rosie, jisoo, and lisa busied themselves with their own tasks, allowing jennie the space she needed to gather her thoughts.

i'm so depressed, i act like it's my birthday every day

i'm so obsessed with him but he avoids me like the plague

the moment arrived, and jennie took a deep breath, steeling herself for the ordeal ahead. rosie placed a reassuring hand on jennie’s back, while lisa and jisoo moved close, forming a protective barrier as they approached the exit. the crowd’s roar and the flashing cameras intensified as they neared the door.

as they pushed through the throng of flashing cameras, jennie’s gaze shifted momentarily. her eyes caught a fleeting glimpse of a familiar figure just ahead of her. the back of a man’s head, unmistakably recognizable, stood out among the crowd. he was surrounded by his own entourage, making his way to a nearby black van.

jennie’s breath caught in her throat, her heart skipping a beat. the sight was brief but enough to send a wave of conflicting emotions through her. she could only see his silhouette, but it was enough to stir up a storm of memories and feelings. 

the man who had once been the love of her life and the father of her child, was now just another person in the sea of flashing lights.

the sight was a painful reminder of the unresolved issues that lingered between them, a sharp contrast to the façade she maintained for the public. jennie struggled to keep her focus, pushing the unwelcome emotions aside as she stepped into the car.

i cry a lot but i am so productive, it's an art

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart

despite crying at least six times earlier that day, jennie had managed to channel her pain into her performance, her professional mask firmly in place as she danced and sang under the spotlight. it was a form of catharsis, an escape from the raw, unfiltered ache that seemed to follow her wherever she went.

“jennie, over here!” “lisa, look this way.” “rosé, jisoo, over here!”

despite the chaotic scene and the swarm of flashing cameras, jennie forced herself to keep moving forward. her exhaustion was palpable, her emotional armor beginning to crack under the pressure. she knew that her public image was as important as her private struggles, and maintaining it meant navigating the relentless gaze of the media with grace.

she made her way past the sea of reporters and photographers, her heart aching at the thought of her daughter and the life she wanted to provide for her. each step felt heavy, laden with the weight of her responsibilities and the personal sacrifices she had made. jennie couldn’t escape the feeling of being trapped between the demands of her career, the issues with her ex boyfriend, and the longing for a more personal connection with her child.

part of her even wondered what ivory would think when she found out who her father was. would she even tell her daughter who he was?

as they approached the car, jennie kept her gaze forward, determined to focus on the brief moment of respite she would find inside. she could feel the weight of the day pressing down on her, her heart heavy with thoughts of her daughter and the painful memories that had resurfaced.

the fans continued to scream, their enthusiasm contrasting sharply with jennie’s internal turmoil. the flashing lights from the paparazzi’s cameras were relentless, each lens capturing her in a moment she wished she could escape.

rosé, sensing jennie's distress, moved closer to her, offering a reassuring presence amidst the chaos. jennie simply gave her a grateful nod, appreciating the small gesture of support. lisa and jisoo remained close as well, their silent solidarity a source of comfort.

the car door finally opened, and jennie stepped inside, the noise of the crowd fading as the door closed behind her. the silence of the vehicle provided a brief reprieve from the sensory overload.

i can hold my breath

i've been doing it since he left

once all members were inside, the van slowly pulled away from the curb. jennie quickly sank into the seat, trying to steady her breathing as the car pulled away from the venue. despite the relative calm inside the vehicle, her mind was still racing, filled with thoughts of her daughter and the unresolved pain from her past.

as the van moved forward, jennie’s gaze inadvertently shifted to the vehicle right next to theirs. even through the tinted windows, she could make out the faint silhouette of a figure inside. her heart skipped a beat, recognizing the shape and the posture. it was him—his presence unmistakable, even in the dim light.

jennie’s breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding as if it were trying to escape from her chest. the sight of him, even from such a distance and through the darkened glass, triggered a torrent of emotions she had tried so hard to suppress.

she wanted to look away, to focus on anything else, but her eyes remained locked on that silhouette, unable to tear themselves away. the weight of her memories and the unresolved feelings she carried seemed to converge in that fleeting moment of recognition.

truth be told, she felt like she’d been holding her breath since the moment he left. the only times she felt like she could breathe were when she was with jane.

the van slowly rolled past, and the silhouettes faded into the background as they continued their journey. jennie exhaled slowly, her breath trembling as she tried to regain her composure. she glanced at her reflection in the window, her eyes reflecting the fatigue and emotional strain she had been hiding so well.

the car turned a corner, and the sight of the van vanished from view. jennie allowed herself to breathe again, though the ache in her chest remained.

i keep finding his things in drawers

crucial evidence, i didn't imagine the whole thing

by the time jennie got home, she practically collapsed in the arms of her mother. the exhaustion of the day, coupled with the emotional strain, left her feeling drained. jieun wrapped her arms around jennie, holding her close in a comforting embrace.

“i’m here,” jieun whispered softly, stroking jennie’s hair. “you did great out there.”

jennie nodded, her eyes brimming with tears she had held back all night. “thanks, mom,” she murmured, her voice small and hoarse. “where is she?” the idol asked, wiping her eyes quickly with the back of her hands. jieun offered a reassuring smile and gestured towards the mentioned girl’s room. 

“she’s asleep, just like you wanted.”

jennie’s mind was still buzzing with the adrenaline from the performance as she walked past her daughter’s bedroom and into her own room. a familiar drawer stood in the corner, a ghost of the past that had haunted her for far too long. it was where she kept the last remnants of the relationship that had shattered her so completely—the relationship that had left her alone to raise their daughter. 

tonight, that drawer would finally be emptied.

with a determined breath, the idol marched over and yanked it open. her cat-eyes skimmed over the contents: old letters, a bracelet he’d given her, a crumpled photo of them during happier times. each item felt like a ball and chain, dragging her back into memories she wanted to bury for good.

one by one, she tossed them into a trash bag with a cold finality. the letters went first, followed by the bracelet that she once wore so proudly. when her fingers brushed over the photo, she hesitated for only a moment before crumpling it even further and shoving it into the bag. there was no room in her life for these memories—not when they were tainted by the way he’d treated her, by the way he’d dismissed jane as if she meant nothing.

this was the end of his influence in her life. the end of him taking up space in her thoughts, in her heart, and in her home. 

jennie was done letting him linger in the corners of her mind. more importantly, she was done letting him have any claim over her or her daughter.

i'm sure i can pass this test (one, two, three, four)

'cause i'm a real tough kid, i can handle my shit

the woman’s hands trembled slightly as she clutched the stack of old letters and the crumpled photo. standing in the dim light of her bathroom, she stared down at the remnants of a past she was finally ready to let go of. the faint scent of perfume from those days still clung to the pages, taunting her with memories of the man who had once held her heart, only to shatter it completely.

she reached into the cabinet under the sink and grabbed a small lighter, her grip tightening as she made the decision that had been brewing inside her for months. this wasn’t just about moving on—this was about erasing him entirely from the life she had worked so hard to rebuild.

jennie took one last look at the letters, tracing the words that once brought her comfort but were now nothing more than lies. then, without hesitation, she flicked the lighter, a small flame dancing to life at her fingertips. she held the flame to the edge of the first letter and watched as it began to curl and blacken, the paper hissing as the fire consumed it.

the flames spread quickly, licking up the sides of the letter until it was nothing but ash. one by one, she fed each letter to the fire, the bitterness of the past turning to smoke in the cramped space of the bathroom. the final piece was the photo, once a snapshot of what she thought was happiness. as she held it over the sink, the flames ate away at the image of his smiling face until there was nothing left but charred edges and a fading memory.

the idol stared at the ashes for a moment, feeling the finality of it all settle deep within her. there was something cathartic about watching the pieces of her past dissolve into nothingness, leaving behind only a clean slate.

she turned on the faucet, washing away the remnants of the burned paper, watching them swirl down the drain. the water carried away the last traces of him, taking with it the weight she had carried for so long.

with a deep breath, jennie shut off the water and stood in the silence of the bathroom. the scent of smoke lingered faintly, but she felt lighter, freer than she had in years. this was her moment of reclaiming herself, of choosing her future over the pain of her past.

satisfied, jennie tucked the lighter back into the cabinet and left the bathroom, the ashes now just a memory.

but before heading to bed, she had one more stop to make.

they said, "babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and i did

she quietly walked down the hallway and opened the door to jane’s room. her daughter was fast asleep, curled up in her blankets with a soft, peaceful expression that tugged at jennie’s heart. all the stress and turmoil of the day melted away as she approached the bed and gently lowered herself next to jane.

jennie leaned in and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s forehead, breathing in the comforting scent of her little girl. “i’m here, baby,” she whispered softly. “mommy’s always here.”

as she watched jane sleep, jennie’s heart swelled with a fierce protectiveness. he could never understand what it took to sit here with their daughter, night after night, through the sleepless nights, the fevers, the fears, and the little triumphs. he could never comprehend the sacrifices jennie had made to ensure jane grew up surrounded by love and stability.

the man who had abandoned them so callously would never grasp the strength it took to be both mother and father.

she was juggling the pressures of celebrity life while still doing her best to put jane first in everything. and now, with his arrogance and indifference still echoing in her mind, jennie’s resolve hardened.

“i won’t let him near you,” she whispered, her voice firm even as it trembled with emotion. “he doesn’t deserve to know you, to see the beautiful, smart girl you’re growing up to be. he walked away, and that was his choice. but i’m the one who stayed. i’m the one who’s here for you, always.”

jennie’s fingers lightly stroked jane’s soft hair, her chest tightening with a mixture of love and determination. “i don’t care what he tries to do. i won’t let him take you away, i won’t let him hurt you. you’re my everything, jane. and i’ll protect you with everything i have.”

she blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over, determined to stay strong, for jane and for herself. jennie knew that being an idol meant living in the spotlight, where even her most private moments were vulnerable to public scrutiny. but this—her love for her daughter—was sacred, and she would never let the shadows of her past cast a shadow on jane’s future.

after a few moments, jennie leaned down and kissed jane’s forehead once again, lingering in the warmth of her daughter’s presence. “you’re safe, baby,” she whispered. “as long as i’m here, you’ll always be safe.”

lights, camera, bitch smile, in stilettos for miles

he said he'd love me for all time

with a deep breath, jennie slowly stood and left the room, quietly closing the door behind her. the soft click of the door seemed to echo in the stillness of the night. she paused for a moment in the hallway, letting her back rest against the wall as she composed herself. the overwhelming emotions she’d held back all day threatened to surge forward, but she quickly pushed them down, reminding herself that she couldn’t break down in front of her daughter’s door.

she moved to her bedroom, deciding that the shower would be the place for her to let everything out.

the second she stepped under the spray, the tears she’d been holding back finally broke free. her sobs were swallowed by the sound of the rushing water, each one tearing through her as all the emotions she’d bottled up throughout the day poured out. jennie pressed her forehead against the cool tile, letting the water mix with her tears as she cried for everything she’d been carrying inside—the loneliness, the exhaustion, the pain of dealing with her ex, and the overwhelming fear of not being enough for jane.

the pressure of being jennie, the idol, was one thing. but being jennie, the mother, was another burden altogether. she felt like she was constantly balancing on a tightrope, trying to give jane everything she deserved while holding herself together for the world.

but that time was quite short

breaking down, i hit the floor

as the scalding water hit her skin, jennie felt her body start to tremble. she hugged herself, trying to find some sense of comfort in the midst of her breakdown. she hated feeling this way, hated that even in her own home, she couldn’t fully escape the shadows of her past.

but more than anything, jennie hated him—hated how he had turned her love into a source of pain, how he had made her doubt her own worth, how he had walked away so easily, leaving her to face everything alone. and yet, even with all that hate, there was a part of her that still hurt because of how much she had once loved him.

jennie cried harder, her sobs shaking her entire body as she let everything out—the fear, the anger, the sorrow. she stayed under the water until her tears finally ran dry and all she was left with was exhaustion.

slowly, jennie slid down to sit on the floor of the shower, letting the water run over her as she stared blankly at the tiles. her chest still felt tight, but she couldn’t cry anymore. she didn’t have the energy left to. 

the worst part about being an idol was the fact that even though she felt horrible now, and would still feel similar tomorrow morning, she’d still have no choice but to plaster on a smile and perform. jennie knew that no matter how shattered she felt inside, the world expected her to be flawless, to be jennie from blackpink—confident, poised, and untouchable. 

the pressure never let up, and sometimes it felt like her true self was buried so deep under the idol persona that she forgot what it was like to be just jennie, a woman struggling with heartbreak, a mother trying to protect her child.

she rested her head against the cool tile wall, letting the water continue to soak her hair. she thought about the endless schedule waiting for her in the morning—the interviews, the rehearsals, the meetings. there was no room in that schedule for weakness, no space for the heartache gnawing at her insides. but she had long since accepted that this was her reality. 

no one was going to stop and ask if she was okay; they would just expect her to keep going.

all the pieces of me shattered as the crowd was chanting, "more"

jennie shut her eyes tightly, the weight of it all pressing down on her. the loneliness felt unbearable at times, but she couldn’t afford to give in to it. she had jane, and that was what mattered most. her daughter was her anchor, the one thing in her life that was real, pure, and untouched by the world’s expectations. jennie would endure anything to make sure jane never had to feel the way she did right now—lost, broken, and alone.

with a shaky breath, jennie slowly pushed herself to stand. the water had turned cold, but she barely noticed as she reached for a towel and wrapped it around herself. she stared at her reflection in the fogged-up mirror, barely recognizing the woman looking back at her. her eyes were puffy and red, her face pale from exhaustion, but she knew she had no choice but to push through it.

she quickly dried herself off and slipped into a comfortable pair of pajamas. her body was running on autopilot, each movement mechanical as she moved through her nightly routine. but as she finally collapsed into bed, the emptiness she had been holding at bay all day rushed in like a tidal wave. lying in the darkness, she felt the overwhelming urge to check her phone—an old habit she couldn’t seem to break.

jennie couldn’t resist the urge to scroll through social media, knowing all too well that the night’s performance had already gone viral. she opened her favorite app, her heart heavy with a mixture of anxiety and curiosity. the trending tags were filled with blackpink and her name, accompanied by clips and photos of their performance. fans praised her charisma, her fierce stage presence, and how flawlessly she delivered a performance. 

but those who only saw the idol on stage had no idea how broken she felt underneath the spotlight.

she kept scrolling, her thumb moving automatically as she skimmed through posts. some fans noticed the emotion in her eyes, speculating about what might be going on behind the scenes. “jennie looked like she was holding back tears during that last song,” one post read. “she’s such a pro, but i hope she’s okay.” another fan wrote, “no one performs like jennie, even when she’s clearly hurting. she deserves the world.”

i was grinning like i'm winning, i was hitting my marks

'cause i can do it with a broken heart (one, two, three)

the kind words made jennie’s eyes sting with fresh tears, but then came the harsher comments—the ones she’d learned to steel herself against. “she looks tired. maybe she’s losing her touch,” someone commented under a video clip. another user questioned her commitment to the group, speculating about why she seemed “distracted” lately. those words cut deeper than they should have, but jennie had grown used to this duality—the praise and the judgment that came hand in hand with fame.

she knew the fans meant well, but they could never understand the full picture. how could they know that behind every smile was a woman who had just burned the last traces of a man who shattered her heart? or that beneath her perfectly applied makeup was a mother fighting every day to protect her daughter from the man who abandoned them both?

jennie took a deep breath and locked her phone, tossing it onto the bed beside her. the more she tried to engage with her public persona, the more the lines between jennie the idol and jennie the person blurred. 

but tonight, she couldn’t be the idol anymore. 

i'm so depressed, i act like it's my birthday every day

i'm so obsessed with him but he avoids me like the plague (he avoids me)

she quickly switched to her contacts application. for a brief moment, she just stared at her screen with her thumb hovering over his name. even after everything he had done, a part of her still clung to the past, to the memories of who he used to be. but those days were long gone, and she knew deep down that holding onto this last connection was only hurting her more.

she had already burned his letters, destroying the last physical remnants of their relationship. this was the final step—the one that would completely sever whatever ties were still left between them.

with trembling hands, jennie opened his contact information. her heart pounded in her chest as she stared at his name, the memories of his cruel words replaying in her mind. "get rid of it," he had said about her daughter. the cold indifference in his voice still echoed in her ears, reminding her that he didn’t deserve to be a part of jane’s life—or hers.

taking a deep breath, jennie clenched her jaw and pressed “delete contact.” the screen flashed for a moment before his name disappeared, leaving an empty space where it used to be. it was a small act, but it felt like reclaiming a piece of herself. she wasn’t going to let him haunt her anymore. 

he had made his choice to leave, and now she was making hers.

i cry a lot but i am so productive, it's an art

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart

jennie dropped the phone onto the bedside table and lay back against the pillows. the room was quiet, but there was a certain finality in the silence that felt liberating. she had carried the weight of that relationship for so long, letting it define her pain and shape her fears. but now, she was free of him—free to focus on herself and on jane.

as she pulled the covers up to her chin, jennie allowed herself to imagine a future where his shadow no longer loomed over her every decision. it wouldn’t be easy, and there would still be days when the hurt would resurface, but she knew that she had the strength to keep moving forward.

it was odd how the world knew everything about her. from the way she styled her hair to the rumors about who she might be dating—everything was dissected and discussed like it was public property. yet, the most crucial parts of her life, the battles she fought in silence, remained unseen. they didn’t know about the sleepless nights when she stared at the ceiling, replaying every moment she wished she could change. 

they had no idea how every choice she made was weighed against the thought of what was best for her daughter, and how the love she had for ivory kept her going when she felt like crumbling.

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart

you know you're good, i'm good

from the outside, jennie’s life looked perfect—glamorous even. the designer clothes, the luxury cars, the millions of fans hanging on to her every word. but behind all the glitz and glamor, she was just a woman trying to find her way, trying to make the best out of the cards she’d been dealt. 

sometimes, the idol felt as if she never grew up. she was surrounded by all these symbols of success—fame, fortune, and the endless applause—but inside, she felt like a child grappling with responsibilities far beyond her years.

yes, she got pregnant at a young age. but even at 22 years old, she still didn’t feel fully grown up. the responsibilities of motherhood had thrust her into a world of adult concerns far earlier than she had anticipated. sometimes, she felt like she was faking her way through adulthood, juggling the expectations of being a public figure with the demands of being a devoted mother.

jennie often wondered if she would ever truly feel like an adult, or if the weight of her responsibilities would always overshadow her sense of personal growth. but as she lay in bed, exhausted and emotionally drained, she took solace in the small victories and the love she had for her daughter. that love was a constant reminder that, despite the struggles and imperfections, she was capable of handling whatever life threw her way.

her journey was far from ordinary, but it was uniquely hers. 

'cause i'm miserable

and nobody even knows

try and come for my job

inside her room, jane’s eyes remained wide open. she hadn’t been fully asleep, just resting in the comfort of her mother’s presence when she arrived. her grandmother had told her to pretend to be asleep after letting her stay up to watch her mother on tv.  but now in quiet darkness, the weight of what she had overheard settled heavily on her small shoulders.

she didn’t know much about her father; he was just a mysterious figure in stories she’d never heard fully told. but she understood enough to know that he wasn’t a good person—especially if he made her mom cry like that. 

even at her young age, jane could sense the tension in jennie’s voice, the way she spoke with a mix of love and sadness. her father wasn’t spoken about, and when he was brought up it was always in hushed tones or quickly changed subjects. the absence of his presence in her life made her mother’s emotions all the more vivid.

jane knew that her father’s name was like a shadow that loomed over their lives, even if he was never directly present. the stories she overheard or the subtle changes in her mother’s mood whenever the topic arose painted a picture of someone who had caused a great deal of pain. it wasn’t hard for her to piece together that he was a source of deep hurt for her mother.

tears welled up in jane’s eyes as she lay there, silent sobs shaking her small frame. she covered her mouth with her tiny hands, trying to stifle the sounds so her mom wouldn’t hear. she didn’t want to worry jennie, not when she could feel how hard her mom was trying to protect her. but it hurt, knowing that there was someone out there who should’ve cared for her, yet never did.

jane buried her face in her pillow, crying quietly. she clung to the comforting words jennie had whispered just moments ago: “you’re safe, baby.” it was all she needed to hold onto, even as her small heart ached with the confusion and hurt of a reality she was too little to fully understand.

ivory didn’t know how long she laid there for, but after a while, her sobs faded into soft sniffles, and she began drifting off to sleep. even in her drowsiness, a part of her held onto the hope that her mom would always be there, always keeping her safe from the shadows she didn’t yet fully comprehend.

and in that very moment, right before sleep overtook her, she vowed to protect her mother from the man who had caused her so much pain. 

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TAGLIST ⸺ ✶ @silantryoo @imahallucination11 @jisooftme @yerimbrit @linnnsworld @edeivveiss @urmom2314 @aespasoooool @mygfiswonyoung @yeetaberry127 @@sixflame438 @yourmyst4r @shegoswhoree @saysirhc @hwm1hyun @literallybipanic @yejiscene @gayforalll @yvsvrn @bunnywonyo @karifrogs @thefckghost @yoontoonwhs @pandafuriosa60 @somedaydream @hotluvlet @pagedpick7 @lizseos @cy8erpunkz @keiji-jin @lizseos @xszn @awkwardtoafault @hellokiraa @chicopichu @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite @lesbian4themis @literallybipanic @tjdc25 @st4r4ngel @jihyos-hoe @jxmis

CLOSED.

[rayassecretlife]

Corrupt me

Pairing: 19 year old!Neteyam Sully x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Summary: Neteyam and you had been dating for many months but never went farther then a kiss since you were fairly innocent and didn’t understand much. One night when he slips through your window to see you, your hormones get the best of you and you turn to him for guidance.

Warning(s): Corruption kink, Mature language, Praise kink, F!ngering, squ!rting, aftercare :))), Kissing, etc.

“Come on!” You groan, tugging at the string that connected the small bracelet you had been making. It was about 1:00am and it was safe to say you had been working on jewelry for the past few hours. The night sky was dark and gloomy while the simple flower you had in your room lit the area, allowing you to see everything you had been doing. The bracelet was rather important to you being as it was for your boyfriend.

The small scraping noise behind you made your head turn quickly with a gasp, but to your relief and surprise, it was a very familiar face. “Hey, Syulang” You glare at your boyfriend as you stand to your feet, helping him through the small opening in your wall that acted as a window. “Why the face? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“What are you doing here! What if my dad-“ He shushes your whispers, moving past you to sit on the floor where you had been making the bracelet. At this point there was no reason in keeping it from him. “I-it’s not finished” You try to reason but he chuckles, Picking it up to get a closer look. Did he not like it? Was it not the colors he liked?

You sat next to your boyfriend, grabbing the bracelet from him to put away. His eyes were strained on your own with a small laugh, arms pulling you close to his embrace. “I like that one” His reassuring words make you smile against his chest and you almost instantly nuzzle your head into him, the warmth from his body radiating off yours perfectly. “I missed you, sorry for the surprise visit”

“You saw me hours ago” You lift your head, laying your chin against his chest and his eyes met your own. “I missed you too” A smile tugged his lips as he cupped one side of your face, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. His lips were soft against yours but also cold, like they’d been waiting to touch your own for hours.

You and Neteyam had been dating for only a few months but you’ve known each other since you were young. You were the daughter of one of his father’s greatest warrior’s, and Neteyam couldn’t stay away from the fact he couldn’t have you growing up. Your father protected you from boys, most of the time having to break apart you and Neteyam because you never knew what you had been doing was flirting.

You were 18 but rather innocent. You didn’t know how a lot of things worked with mating and boyfriends due to your father always keeping you so out of the loop but all you knew was that you had this undeniable liking to Neteyam and you couldn’t ignore that. You couldn’t ignore the way he made your heart beat faster whenever he was near.

Neteyam was the one that would guide you through certain things; like the first time you held his hand, or when you kissed him having no idea how to kiss. He’d explain everything to you, the way you felt and how he felt it all too. You feared he would look at you as immature for not knowing but it was quite the opposite. He found you so adorable when you would look at him with those doe eyes, hesitant to kiss him.

The farthest you’d ever gone was making out, but that was because you’d often get carried away off that lustful feeling you weren’t used to. You loved him, that’s really what it was. You just wanted to be close to him.

You couldn’t help yourself. He smelled of the forest and vanilla, like a sweet candle the people in the lab had laying around. Maybe it was the fact your body had been looking for something it didn’t know of, or the thought that perhaps he wanted to explore every part of you made your skin explode with heat. Usually it was just kissing between the two of you, but lately you had felt so much differently.

Your lips detach from his but your face is still very close to his, eyes looking up at his for guidance as they always did. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip as he lets out a small huffed out laugh, “What is it, Syulang?” Your stomach turned at the sound of his voice, and that funny feeling you’d been having for weeks came back almost instantly. It felt like this burning sensation between your legs but it didn’t hurt, only becoming annoying to the point you almost wanted to touch where it came from.

His eyes study yours as your mouth opens slightly, but soon closes with your lips pressed together. You didn’t know what to think, you didn’t know what it was and you were afraid he would think you were weird for asking him if he knew. You shake your head with a closed mouth smile before leaning up to kiss him again, and that is the exact reason Neteyam knew you so well.

“Y/N, Baby” He pulls away gently, his hand still cupping the side of your face. He could tell you were holding back from telling him what you needed, but he wasn’t going to let you throw yourself into him to change the subject. “Talk to me” His words are soft and his eyes are softer, understanding as they stare into your own. You sigh and shift in front of him, feeling the weird feeling slightly grow as his free hand caresses the side of your arm.

“I feel weird” You start, looking up at him with a softening face. You genuinely didn’t know how to get rid of this feeling and that’s all you wanted. You wanted to rid this void inside your body. “There’s this… feeling I’ve been getting when you touch me and I-I don’t know how to make it go away” your voice is so clearly begging for him to help you but he’s just as confused as you are.

“What feeling?” He asks in his low voice, pressing his hand to the small of your back. You were so nervous, what if something was wrong with you? Your ears are batting down as you look at him through your eyelashes, you didn’t know what you were feeling. “Does it hurt?”

“Sometimes, if I’m around you long enough” You inform with hesitancy, placing your hands over your lap. His eyes don’t miss where you had landed them, seeing you were trying to hide your loincloth from sight. “It feels like… like fire all over my body. My skin is hot and it scares me” You breathed, fixating on his necklace to miss his gaze.

His mind is slowly but surely putting the pieces together but it almost seems impossible for you to feel such things. He always knew you’d come around but this soon? That wasn’t apart of the plan. He reaches down to push your hair behind your ear, hooking a finger under your chin to lift your head up.

“Do you want to show me where it hurts?” Of course you did. You wanted him to make all of your pain go away but you were unsure he’d be able to. He didn’t know what was wrong with you and neither did you, you didn’t even know why you told him. Your hesitant in his grasp but softly nod before grabbing ahold of his large hand, watching his eyes scan your body for where his hand would meet. he was looking at you seriously, his intense yellow eyes boring into your own.

“It’s…” Your voice is trailing and he can see your nervousness right through your body, now grabbing hold of your hand to give it a small and reassuring squeeze which made you look up at him.

“Let me” You wanted to question what he meant but you didn’t, listening to his every word while keeping your eyes on his as his hand explored your cold skin. He watched your expressions at every point he hit, some making you shiver and others making your ears fall. He was driving you insane.

Finally, his hand is ghosted above your loincloth, very slowly moving down till he was inside of it, making a gasp leave your mouth as your hand quickly moved down to stop him from going lower. “Here?” He asks genuinely, earning an embarrassed nod of your head.

“C-can you make it go away?” You ask desperately, praying to Eywa he was willing to help you. There you were, his adorable innocent girlfriend who was so clueless you didn’t even know your own body’s pleasure. He doesn’t respond, only leaning down to press his soft lips against yours.

He pulls away with one swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip, the tip of his nose nudging yours. “I can help you but you have to trust me” He tells you truthfully, waiting for your answer which you so obviously told him you did. You trusted him with your life. “Let’s move to the hammock then, Hmm? Want you to be comfortable”

You follow the boys orders and lay yourself on your hammock, moving over to make room for him to join you. His large body slowly moves onto the hammock, hovering over your small frame. Your eyes are slightly big as your heart is beating from your chest, you and Neteyam had never been in this position and it definitely intimidated you. He catches wind of your nervousness and quickly leans down to kiss your lips sweetly, as if it was a reward or a reassurance.

“Want you to relax for me. I won’t hurt you, Tìyawn” He speaks against your lips before moving to your jaw, peppering it’s soft skin with kisses as one of his hands moved down your chilling body. The feeling between your legs was growing now and you wondered if he actually knew how to make it better, it was only becoming more unbearable then before.

But you laid relaxed for your boyfriend, trusting in his actions. Neteyam would never hurt you and that was a known fact, but you had no idea what to think when he’s above you like this. It was all so… new?

“Neteyam!” You let out a quiet gasp once he unties your loincloth, earning a raise of his eyebrow from him. You hesitantly nod your head, leaning it back to try and relax like he had asked of you. The tips of his fingers tease the skin of your thighs, ghosting over the insides like he had been drawing lines all over them. Your hands slowly find their way to his hair, slightly tugging on it so he’d pull his face in front of your own. You wanted him to kiss you because If he did, you wouldn’t have to worry.

He of course, read you like a book and pressed his lips against your own with a slight hunger to it, a feeling you rarely saw from him. “Quiet” He mumbled between kisses, silencing your gasp with his mouth as you felt his fingers ghost your forbidden area. You were so nervous, you thought you weren’t supposed to touch there… why was he aloud to? You didn’t understand anything, not even about yourself.

But you trusted him.

Your legs are shifting under him as he lets one of his fingers touch you, a slight grunt leaving his mouth at the feeling between them. You were wet, so fucking wet… and you didn’t know? Sometimes he didn’t understand your innocence. “Neteyam… it… it’s worse” He shushes you with another kiss before laying his forehead against yours, letting out a small chuckle.

“I know, Sweet girl. It’s gonna get worse before it gets better. M’gonna take care of you, I promise” His words are sweet and soft against your ear, fingers touching your forbidden area like they were meant to be there. His thumb pressed against your swollen bud, feeling as your cunt clenched around nothing in anticipation. He had to of been teasing you.

His tongue is gently gliding along your skin with care as his thumb rubs circles to your clit. Your eyes were strained shut at the sudden pleasure, the sudden feeling that wasn’t so weird anymore. It felt good. Neteyam watched your face contort from the feeling, pressing the back of your head against the loom under you. You were so beautiful like this, all hot and bothered just by his presence. You made him absolutely feral and had you not have been so innocent, he would’ve took it all the way with you.

But now his lips are trailing down your neck, against your shoulders and collarbone, up until he couldn’t go any father due to your chest piece. He hums to make you reopen your eyes, watching him slightly tug of the fabric. You look at him with hesitancy but shortly nod your head, watching as he untied the clothing from your top.

Your body was bare under him and you never felt more exposed. Sure, Na’vi we’re already practically naked all the time but he could see every detail in your body; every dip, every line, the curve of your breasts, and your hardened nipples. He was staring, oh eywa, does he not like me anymore? You tried to find the answer but your thinking was cut predominantly short as he leans his head down, reenacting his actions from before against your skin.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N” He says lovingly, making your heart explode and stomach flutter with butterflies. You let out a soft moan which made his ears perk, eyes glancing up at your desperate body. His mouth was so close to your nipple, and for a second you thought he wouldn’t of done anything with that, but you couldn’t of been more wrong.

“Tey…!” Your whispered moans flew from your mouth and you couldn’t stop them, placing your hand on his head as you watched him swirl his tongue around your hardened nipple, meeting your eyes with his big yellows. Was this even aloud? You didn’t even know people touch there… your breathing heavy under him, pulling his hair from his face to gain a clear view of him, watching his every move while his finger practically attacked your clit.

“Need you to relax for me, baby” You gain frustrated at his words, weren’t you already relaxed? His hand pressed down on your stomach that heaved, giving you a small chuckle with the shake of his head. “Gonna take the feeling away now, Y/N. You have to be quiet though because It’s gonna feel weird at first, okay?” His free hand strokes your cheek and you nod, giving him permission to do basically whatever he had wanted with you.

He released your nipple and moved back up to your lips, capturing you in his embrace as his digits move up and down your slit. Your slick covered his fingers with ease, and you couldn’t help but moan against him at the foreign feeling. You notice his hunger against your lips increase, and his tongue slipped into your mouth as the same time his finger did your entrance, making you gasp.

His free hand continues to caress your cheek in hopes to sooth you, pressing one of his large, slender fingers deep inside you. You didn’t understand. You didn’t understand how you thought this was so wrong all your life… It didn’t feel weird anymore—it felt so, so fucking good.

Neteyam doesn’t miss the way your hips wind against him to gain more friction, pulling away from your lips with a smirk. “See? And you were all nervous” He smiles through his bitten lip before kissing you again, falling in love with your lustful eyes all over again. You let your hands hold the sides of his head as you match his pace against your lips, bending your legs to press against his sides as he curled his finger against your gummy walls.

He cursed himself. You were so innocent and cute, so new and fresh. You’d never been touched before, and he wanted it to be him that corrupted your innocence. He could feel his cock getting harder against the cloth by the second, thinking about how it would feel to really corrupt you. Your cunt was slipper around his digits, and warm to the touch as if it had been preparing for someone to touch it all this time. You were perfect in every way he imagined; from your beautiful moans, to your breathtaking body, you were his and his only.

“Neteyam… it’s…” You try to find the words once you pull away but nothing comes out, although he knew exactly what you wanted. From the way your cunt clenched around him profusely, trust in Eywa, he knew.

“More? You want more, don’t you?” He aims to tease you but you don’t care anymore, nodding your head desperately and nudging your nose to his. “My sweet, innocent girl” He chuckles, pulling his dripping finger out of you, allowing another to join. “If this is what you’ve felt for so long, you should have told me” He watches you, slowly pushing his ring and middle finger inside you. Your gasp isn’t enough, his fingers were large and believe, they were stretching you.

“I… I didn’t know what it was” You sigh, gripping his shoulders as you lay your head back, breath shaky against the air. He hums as if to ask if it was okay and you slowly nod, looking at him to see his eyes low, looking at what he had been doing to you. “Yes, yes this is what I wanted” was this what they did when mating? Now you were curious. This felt so different but so good, almost forbidden to a point.

Using the same movements before, Neteyam’s fingers curled inside you, this time making you jolt as he reached a certain spot you didn’t even know you had, and your hand pressed against his stomach.

“That’s a good thing, my love. Did it not feel good?” He questions but knows the answer just off your heavy breathing. You close your eyes for a second before releasing his stomach, placing your hands on the back of his neck. He smirks, leaning down to kiss you once more before moving to your ear, restarting his pace from before against you. Your quiet moans were more then enough to tell him everything, to show him what you needed the most. “Such a good girl letting me corrupt you like this—fuck, you turn me on so much” He wanted to palm himself so bad but held back, noticing the slightly louder moan you let out at the name he had called you. You liked that; you liked when he called you that.

“Tey… it’s back—it’s-“

“Your gonna come, pretty girl” He hums, placing sloppy kisses against your sweet spot on your neck. That feeling was back but ten times worse now, like you had to pee almost. His fingers are moving faster into you now, curling against that spongy spot you were so weak to. “Come for me, Sweet girl. Just let it happen” He knew you were nervous but every moan was like another reason for him to keep going, knowing on the inside you were chasing that release, you just didn’t know that.

He notices your moans get louder by the second and quickly moves to kiss your lips, muffling every single one as he felt your release just barely tip over, your legs straining against him and your cunt clenching around his fingers horribly. He coaches you against your lips, holding your body still. He knew you were going to let go. You had to.

“Teyam…!” You gasp against his lips, feeling the pleasurable feeling wash over you like a huge wave, and you could hear the sound of his fingers pumping inside you only increase, helping you ride out the high you had came from. Your moans were loud against his lips and your nails were drawing lines against his back, sure you’d left some blood.

“Good girl—fuck, just like that, keep going” Your boyfriend coaches, your legs were shaking horribly and you somehow were still not breathing normally. Neteyam pulled away from your lips, looking down between the two of you to see the mess you had made. You grew worried as to why he had been staring for so long, reaching down to lift his chin.

“W-what is it? Did I do something I wasn’t supposed to?” You ask worried but he quickly shakes his head, a smile pulling at his lips as he pulls his fingers from inside you, holding them in between your faces so you could see. “I…your hand…” you look at his hand dumbfounded, watching as your slick drips from it gently onto your collarbone. You did all that? How was that even possible.

“Your incredible, Y/N” He chuckles, leaning down to kiss your lips once more before bringing his hand close to his mouth making your eyes widen.

“Neteyam, no! That’s… that’s gross!” You try to protest as he slips one of his fingers into his mouth, closing his eyes at the sweet taste of your slick against his tongue. You wanted to stop him, to tell him how disgusting that was, but you couldn’t. He looked so pretty like this, and you loved watching him taste you.

He pulls back with a pop and leans down to you, bringing his other finger close to your lips to watch your frantic eyes. “Come on, Sweet girl. You taste so, so good” You look at him a little longer hesitant before opening your mouth for him, sticking your pink tongue out for him to slip his finger inside.

The taste is weird at first but after closing your mouth around his finger, you find yourself relishing in it. You tasted sweet and fresh, like a forbidden foreign berry that didn’t exist. Your eyes shut as you run your tongue around his digit, not even noticing his loving eyes that stared at you.

When he pulls his finger from you, your eyes open to him sitting up on his knees in front of you, and your eyes can’t help but notice that pool or water-like stains on his loincloth and stomach, some running down his thigh. “Was… was that me?”

“All you, baby” He says proudly but you don’t understand, only moving to sit back so you could get a better look. You look down at the floor under your hammock, noticing it had been wet too. Neteyam senses the worry in your eyes and shushes you, lifting your chin away from the sight. “It’s a good thing, my love. A very, good thing”

Neteyam removes himself from your hammock to move over to your chest of clothes that secretly hid some of his own, not even bothering to look back at you as he takes off his loincloth. He’s facing away from you but your eyes are only looking at his body, smiling at the way his muscles showed in the light and how his back flexed whenever he moved.

“Are you leaving?” You ask slightly nervous, waiting for him to put on a dry loincloth. You didn’t even know what happened, but you were scared he was going to leave after. What if he never spoke to you after this? What if-

“Are you kicking me out?” He raises an eyebrow as he turns toward you, walking over to you with a cloth in his hand. “Lay back” You glare at him. Again? There was no way you could do that again! “I’m just cleaning you up, Syulang. Need you to lay back so I can dry you off, okay?” His hands are gentle against your thighs as he opens them, waiting until your fully laid back to wipe off your dripping core and thighs. You look at him with a smile, cheeks growing hot as you watch him. He was so adorable, taking care of your body like it was his own. He notices, shaking his head. “Hmm?”

He tosses the cloth in your basket before walking back over to you, slipping onto your hammock where you moved to make room for his large body. His big arms open to you, allowing you to lay your head on his chest comfortably with your legs entwined. You were warm against him, you didn’t even need the blanket that laid atop of you.

“I love you, my mighty warrior” You hum, tracing circles against his chest that vibrates when he laughs and tells you he loves you ten times more, his fingers stroking your hair. “I have one more question before we go to sleep”

You look up at him, laying your chin against his chest. “And what’s that?” A smirk pulls at your lips, the question making your insides churn in the best way possible.

“How does mating work?”

Had a love/hate relationship with this one… but first upload this week!!! Next up: Jake sully smut 😏

Tag list: @neytirishottie @luz15sstuff @rinizitos @erenswife5 @myh3artt @jakescumdump @viajaeger @lu-the-ghost-reader @angelsamor @mashiromochi @luvagirlsworld @doggyteam2028

[elysianightsss]

A little Simon ‘ghost’ Riley thot❤️‍🔥❤️‍🩹

“Triple toe loop first.” Your coach instructed making you nod, a good little soldier. You were good at taking orders and following through without fault. Simply wired that way.

Turning from your coach, you slid one foot in front of the other until you picked up speed on the ice, before turning backward and bringing your left foot down to strike the ice with your toe pick. Pushing up with your body strength, you began spinning in the air and came down to land perfectly.

You glided backward slowing down gradually. Your attention snapped to a sound. An applaud. You never had that in training, it made you cocky and that was bad with this sport.

Twenty minutes earlier…

Ghost couldn’t help himself, he tried. Really he did. Even thought about tying himself to a chair to stop himself but that small little voice tucked away in his cerebral cortex just had to encourage him. And maybe it’s the way he’s wired to take orders, he just had to listen.

The edge of the rink creaked with the weight of his colossal body leaning on it. Blue unrecognisable eyes follow your every movement, every glide, every lutz. Just the way your body bent and folded as you flew. He once again can’t help himself, it’s wired in him like a good little guard dog he examines the area. Oceans waving over each seat and person in the arena.

Ever since he ran into you in that silly little coffee shop, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. It was his fault, even as the cinnamon spiced latte that used to fill the cup in your glove covered hand dripped down his shirt soaking through he knew that much.

And yet you apologised to him, frantically and so politely. Your lips formed into the cutest little pout, the way your forehead creased as your eyebrows pulled together into a frown. Yes, you were an all consuming constant on his mind, never wavering. It was all you.

Then you were on tv, Price’s Mrs had been watching it. Something she had recently become invested in as she had gone into her second trimester and John had very convincingly suggested she start relaxing more and definitely quite that awful job of hers. It was always shitty anyways, even when they first met, well started writing to each other anyway.

“That’s the girl you met today!” Price’s wife squealed slapping his chest, so comfortable with him and the rest of the team. Simon simply nodded, glancing over at his captain though he was busy online, trying to get some weird pregnancy craving snack imported here from America.

He watched you skate gracefully on the tv, even in 4k, it didn’t do you justice. It didn’t show how truly beautiful you were. You bowed to the crowd smiling brightly before catching a bouquet of flowers as the crowd began to throw flowers and teddies and other treats onto the ice while they applauded you.

Simon leant forward, elbows resting on his knees as he noticed how tight your smile was, almost fake. He was almost sure it was fake when he saw it drop as you skated off the ice and out of his sight.

That wouldn’t do. After a little research, Simon found out where you trained and as much as told himself this was wrong. Why was he using his government connections to track you down? He didn’t even know himself but he felt as though he had to know you. Had to make you smile for real.

Now…

Your coach shouted your name in order to get your attention back on training, but it was too late. The gorgeous blue eyed, brown haired, enormous, muscular man held all your attention in the palm of his hand to do with what he wished. “Two minutes.” You yelled back not even looking at her before gliding on the ice towards him. Reaching the edge of the rink you slowed down before leaning against the edge like he did.

“You’re like an angel on that ice.” The compliment makes you grin widely, a pretty sparkle in your eyes that he always wants to see there. See, a real smile.

“Thank you.” Your breath stuttered a little as you became nervous, “What are you doing here?”

Simon thought for a moment. What could he say without sounding like a creep? Without coming on too strong?

“Go on a date with me.” Fuck, he fucked it.

You took a moment to think too. A stranger had just asked you on a date. A very handsome stranger that you spilled your coffee on yesterday. Fuck. Fuck okay.

“Um, sure.” Although you don’t mean it to, it comes out as more of a question.

“Yes or no angel.” You of course said yes. Who could possibly say no to him. It went amazingly, he took you to the fair.

You talked for ages and got to know each other. Though Simon for obvious reasons managed to skate around the question about what he does for a living. Instead he distracted you with Cotten candy.

You greedily ate the sugary fluff while you watched him pick up one of the guns at the game booth. “Careful with that big guy. Think only professionals are supposed to use em.” You joked with a little giggle to follow it up, he cracked a smile at that. Oh honey you’ve got no idea.

“I think I can manage poppet.” He winks at you as he bends slightly and gets set up so quickly. Almost like he knows what he’s doing, he aims and expertly shoots the seven bottles that sit on the side down.

He glances over at the annoyed looking booth guy, before full body turning to you slipping his oversized hands onto your waist and sliding them down to your sides. The feeling of his huge hands heavy on the thickness of your hips had your breath catching in your throat. A shiver racking through your body.

“Which one d’you want angel?” He inspects your face as your eyes reluctantly leave him to search the booth full of stuffed animal teddies.

“That one.” You mumble softly pointing to the large avocado squishmellow toy. He grins down at you, so at ease with you, just able to be himself.

He nods, “okay baby.” His entire demeanour practically screaming anything for you.

Things were going very well, you had managed to take time off to spend with Simon. You’d gone on several dates and spent one very lazy morning in a California king bed all tangled up in the sheets. It was the happiest you’d both been in your entire lives. Unmistakably.

Until you lost your next competition.

“This is all your fault!” You yelled at him, he could see how broken and distraught you were. He knew you were just lashing out, he would gladly let you use him as your punching bag, use him as you pleased as long as it made you feel better.

“Angel.” He started carefully approaching you as if you were a rabid wild animal hands help up in peaceful surrender, only for you to cut him off.

“If you hadn’t come along and distracted me this never would have happened!” Tears gushed down your face as you began to hit his chest, not hard enough to hurt him. Subconsciously you didn’t want to, you’d never want to hurt your Simon. He grabbed your wrists in his large hands, holding them tight and pulling you in close.

“Shh, hey it’s okay. It’s okay poppet.” He shushed you sweetly, cooing at you as began to cry harder than before. He sharply inhales when you look up at him, eyes all glassy from tears, but the look in them. He imagines if he ever let out all the hurt and pain he had bottled inside out, this is what it would look like. When you look at him, he sees his own eyes staring back at him.

He notices the tortured soul festering inside you, how could he have not seen it before? How fucking stupid of him to not see how you were suffering even when all you do is care for him and his needs. He feels like an idiot, though he pushes that down making a silent agreement with himself not to deal with it later.

You were his priority. His angel, sobbing into his strong chest. Simon let his fingers come up to tangle in your hair relaxing your body with his touch. You hated how well it worked, how easy it was for you to give into him.

Simon ignored the stares from your coach and family, to his knowledge there had only been a few times you didn’t win a competition or had fallen over which had affected your score. But even in those times of frustration, even when you were so pent up, so tired and angry at everything; you never cried.

As much as you seemed to hate it, Simon thought this was a good thing. He told you so, “Let it all out my sweet, sweet girl, you’ll feel better once you do.” Albeit hesitant and unwilling, you still listened. Shoving your face deep into his oak and spiced orange smelling chest, you inhaled harshly before letting out a muffled blood curdling scream. You did this a few times, continuing to cry your eyes out and the whole time Simon Riley, Lieutenant Ghost, held you safe and secure promising to never let you go.

[esmedelacroix]

Coffee Shop Love Pt.1

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

summary: He's as stern and cold as the snow falling from the sky blanketing the bustling streets of Nueva York, Miguel O'Hara stumbles upon a hidden gem of a coffee shop just around the corner from Alchemax. Only problem is the annoying-as-shit smiley-ass barista.

contents: slow burn, no use of y/n, fluff, fluff, and more fluff

author's note: Hi lovies, this is the very first part of my first series. I hope you enjoy it! I suggest you listen to "Bittersweet Faith" by Bitter:Sweet on loop while reading this. It does a nice job setting the vibe I'm going for. Enjoy...

word count: 1.1k

Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt. 5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Sequel: Sweet Tooth

Yet another slow night at the Mug & Muffin Coffee House, to no one's surprise, not a single soul drinks coffee at night. You always keep the shop open in case someone wants to swing by and get some baked goods for the night. The rest usually goes to the homeless shelter five blocks away. You sit by the counter chin propped up on your hand, as fatigue droops your head down, and Peter Pan sprinkles fairy dust on your eyelids dragging them down.

The lethargic vibe of the shop with slow jazz playing in the background is suddenly disrupted by the frantic ring of the doorbells. Your head shoots up immediately with the sudden burst of noise. The cool winter air bites at your skin until the door is closed and you are back in the embrace of the blasting heater. Your eyes readjust to the warm lights bringing you back into your shop surrounded by the endless coffee beans, leafy green plants, books, and the myriad of photos framed in rusting gold Victorian frames. The shop is completely empty, snapping yourself back into reality, you direct your focus to the customer who had just walked in.

Your lips parted slightly as a little gasp left your mouth. He was a middle-aged man, with golden skin the color of black coffee with a bit of creamer, his mahogany hair was slicked back in a perfect disaster, with wisps of stray gelled hair strands framing his face perfectly. He had the sharpest and highest cheekbones, a cleanly shaved face, and pearly white teeth. He stood at almost seven feet and struggled with getting the mistletoe above the door out of his hair.

Holy smokes he's hot. Where did this man come from? you asked yourself.

He huffed as he finally freed himself from the clutches of the mistletoe. "What a low doorframe," he mumbled to himself in annoyance.

"Or maybe you're just wicked tall," you answered offering him a bright smile.

He quirked a brow at your playful comment. His face gave no gateway to his thoughts.

"Welcome to Mug & Muffin, what can I make you tonight?" you asked looking up at him to meet his gaze.

"I'll have a hot black coffee please," he replied as he took his wallet out.

Your facial naturally contorted at this odd request. You checked your watch to make sure you weren't going crazy. Yep, 9 pm, why is this psycho getting coffee? You looked back up at his unbothered face.

That perfectly chiseled unbothered face. Fuck you for being so perfect mystery man. You thought to yourself as you started to type the order into the machine.

"Would you like any cream or sugar with that sir?" she inquired as their eyes met briefly.

"Nope just black coffee," he responded in a passive-aggressive tone.

"Okay, and can I get a name with this order?" you chirped, to which he replied, "Miguel O'Hara,"

You hummed as you printed his receipt out and handed it to him after he had paid. He chose to get a seat facing the counter. Lucky me, you thought to yourself. You were quite content that you had some eye candy to feast on tonight.

You quickly made his black coffee while sneaking little peeks at him. A pair of reading glasses adorned the bridge of his nose as he taped away at his laptop. You brought his piping hot black coffee to him, and he thanked you with a little head nod, eyes still glued to his computer screen before he looked up at you.

"Would you like coffee cake or some kind of muffin with your coffee? I have a bunch of extras, it'd be on the house," you suggested.

"No thank you, I don't like sweets," he answered. You exaggeratedly gasped at his sudden revelation.

"You don't like sweets," you demanded as you placed your hands on your hips, trying your hardest to give him an angry face. He found your efforts to look angry cute rather than intimidating. He stifled laughter as he answered, "No, I do not," cooly.

"Are you even real?" you grumbled to yourself as you shook your head and ticked your tongue. You sashayed back behind the counter to pack up the sweets to drop off at the Nueva Hope Homeless Shelter. You watched Miguel sip his coffee from the corner of your eye, surprisingly he didn't burn his tongue. His head shot up and surprise marked his eyes as he looked down at his drink and then back at you, before letting out a satisfied hum of approval. He quickly finished his mug while doing his work.

Truthfully the shop closed 15 minutes ago but Miguel sat there too lost in his emails, documents, and reports to realize that you had shut the light off at the counter and put up every chair but the one he was sitting in. He only came back to earth after you had 'accidentally' dropped your keys on the ground next to him. As cliche as the night already was, you both went to pick them up, both your hands grazing each other. He quickly retreated his hand and looked around realizing that it was beyond time for him to go.

He packed his work bag as you loaded the back of your car with boxes upon boxes of extra baked goods. Closing the trunk of the car, you peeped back into the shop to see Miguel placing money in the tip jar. You chuckled to yourself as he stepped out walking up to you. "That was the best coffee I have ever tasted," he started. You crossed your arms and smiled warmly looking up at him.

"I never got your name though," he trailed off.

"And you'll never get it," you teased

"Everyone in the area calls me Baby though," you explained.

"Yeah I'm not calling you that," Miguel said flatly. You laughed at his response as you locked up.

"You have a good night Miguel!" you called out as you opened your car door.

He gave you a lazy wave and you drove away. Night fell on Nueva York along with the snow. When you finished your delivery, you entered your apartment right above the shop with the tip jar in hand. You had emptied it before but Miguel had put something in it. When you opened it your eyes widened at the several twenty dollar bills. There was a small sticky note folded in the jar. You pick it up and unfold it. The sticky note read, "You are way too energetic at nine o'clock at night, but that was the best coffee I've ever had, will be coming again,"

Next... Pt.2

a/n: should i make a tag list?

[echoalyssa]

Counterparts | Brian O’Conner

The night air is warm, almost comforting. The city of Los Angeles seemed to have decided to go to sleep tonight. The city, normally bustling with life, was quiet, peaceful. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks up at the moon.

I’m standing in front of Mercy Park’s garage checking the oil level of my bike. My brother Logan is lingering by the bay doors, rearranging a stack of Husky jacks that really did not need to be rearranged. He was skeptical about me going riding with someone outside of our crew, but I had known Brian for years.

He drove with Dominic Toretto. Toretto’s crew were technically our rivals as we worked out of the same part of LA. Though Dom and Kaneko, the leader of the Mercy Park Crew, had come to an agreement to coexist.

We’d decided to leave the JDM’s at home tonight. It was perfect weather to take the bikes out and we’d both been neglecting the machines.

         The loud thrum of Brian’s bike alerts me that he is around the corner. I glance at Logan and narrow my eyes at him, begging him to go back inside and talk to Toby or Ximena. He was ridiculously worried about Brian considering his girlfriend’s dad was the cop who had almost brought us all in. 

Brian comes around the corner and pulls into the garage’s parking lot. He nudges the kickstand out with his right booted foot and then turns the key in the ignition to shut the machine off. He tugs his helmet off, revealing his blonde curls and striking blue eyes. The smile that he aims at me is intoxicating.

He dismounts his bike and crosses the distance towards me. I open my arms for him immediately. His arms go around my waist, and I loop mine around his neck. He smells like oil mixed with an earthy undertone. Brian holds me for a good minute before he steps back and flashes me with that grin again. 

“It’s been too long.” He glances over your shoulder and raises his hand in a wave, “Hey Logan!”

I hear the garage door close and know that my brother has finally left us alone.

“You look good.” I murmur back to him. And he does, he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and black jeans. He has his steel toes on and a thin gold chair dangles around his neck. He’s showered recently, his hair bearing the signs of water. Though somehow there is a dirt smudge just under his jaw, as if he just can’t quite seem to stay away from the grime of working on cars.

Brian pokes the tip of my nose with his index finger and then glances at the garage behind me. He tilts his head in the direction of the street. Even though both crews were on good terms did not mean that we should be hanging out together in broad view.

I pull my hair into a loose braid before sliding my helmet on. Brian starts his bike again, throwing a leg over. He maneuvers it backwards so that he can pull back out onto the road. It’s currently wrapped in white with the signature Toretto decals on the gas tank.

My own bike, a Kawasaki Ninja is blacked out. I went for stealth. The machine roars to life underneath me. Brian nods in my direction and together we rev the engines before taking off down the road.

I let Brian lead; I didn’t mind where we went as long as I would get an adrenaline rush. He takes us through a few side streets before we hit the ramp to the highway. He turns his head, checking to make sure that I am still behind him.

The second he confirms that I am still following behind him like his little shadow, he tucks and takes off down the empty highway. My heart soars as I accelerate after him. The red needle on my speedometer quickly craws into the triple digits.

We’re absolutely soaring, breaking felony speeds, but neither of us have plates. The wind whips his t-shirt around, making the fabric crawl upward so it bunches around his chest and exposes the hard planes of muscle. 

There aren’t many people out on the highway, but we weave through the ones that are. We’re perfectly in sync, reading each other’s movements without needing to communicate. I give the throttle a little more and go surging past him, but only for a moment. He overtakes me. It continues like this for miles, each of us going for the lead. The city is a blur around us.

I outstretch a hand to the wind, feeling the way it pushes my arm back in because of the speed. Anyone who saw us together must have been in awe, we give off an almost ethereal aura. Yin and Yang. Light and dark. One and the same.

We were brothers. But bound by more than blood. We were twins as well. Counterparts. Gangster princes of the city we met.

No amount of words could describe the perfection of the moment between the two of us. A picture would do no justice.

Adrenaline pumps through my veins, one mistake and we would be dead, but there was no fear. Only the urge to go faster, to push the limits. That was the thing about Brian, he understood. That if speed was to lead to our demise, we would go out smiling.

Almost too soon, Brian drops a hand to his side, signaling that he is going to take the next exit ramp. He leans into the turn and checks once more, that I’m behind him. We maneuver down a few side roads and then come to a stop atop a hill. The stars are bright tonight, almost defying nature. 

Brian dismounts his bike first, and then he’s in front of me. I haven’t even finished setting up my kickstand before his hands are pulling my helmet off and his lips are brushing against mine. I sigh into him, trusting that I can tip toe the bike and kiss him back. It’s like a weight has been lifted off of my chest

He pulls away but rests his forehead against mine, his fingers brush the strands of hair that had escaped my braid back behind my ears. “I missed you.”

The only response I can find is to pull him back towards me. There wasn’t much time to spare for either of us, both crews were constantly traveling for boosts, but the time that we did have together… we savored it. Loyalties to the crews aside, the two of us would always come back to one another.

[popodoki]

sfw Catwin drabble

Gold is the Cat King's color. He thinks Edwin would look nice in it too, in shiny things x

One of the Cat King’s love languages is gift giving.  

It concerned Edwin at first, little trinkets, left innocently on his desk, around the office, made him feel like he was supposed to give something back? Felt like he owed the Cat King, especially for the more expensive things, fingers tracing the intricate craftsmanship of paperweights, leafing through rare volumes, softest silks running through his hands. He's concluded, deduced, that it's just another of the ways that his lover shows his affection, the dedication to Edwin a familiar warmth, just expressed in new ways. 

But the jewellery still confuses him. 

They are always given directly, a hopeful gaze on his lover’s face, encouraging smile, silent conversation there that Edwin never quite catches. The first is a bracelet. A simple gold band looping around his wrist, closure resembling a Cat’s head biting down on its own tail. No flashy gemstones, no rough clasps to possibly catch on or irritate his skin. The Cat King holds it out, presses it into Edwin's palm when he curiously holds it out, accepts it. That smirk turning into a smile, a little nod, the hope in those slitted eyes, encourages Edwin to try it on. It fits perfectly, of course it does, a part of Edwin wonders if he’d even take it off if it didn’t, for his lover looks so, so pleased. 

Edwin grows comfortable with its weight, wears it for a while, even on cases. He ends up putting it away, in his pocket, after a case goes south with a spot of trouble, a chase. They manage to escape, they always do, but on the other side of the mirror they jumped through to get to safety, Edwin pats himself down, checks his coat, gloves, wrist. Finds the bracelet’s closure a bit twisted, a probable result of his wrist getting grabbed and pulled by the ghost that chased them, their mania and panic causing them to lash out instead of recognizing their presence for the help that was offered. 

Another mirror journey, they see each other again, Edwin notices the Cat King seems to deflate, brief sadness crosses his face, once he notices the bracelet’s gone. Oh. He cheers right up, his sigh sounding relieved, when Edwin presents him the bracelet from his pocket, asks him to fix it, please. 

It's a free for all, after that. Every time they see each other, often, near daily, as new lovers are wont to gravitate towards each other as if any absence tugs on them like a string pulled taut, the Cat King has a new piece of jewellery for him. Always gold, at times tastefully adorned with small expensive stones, shiny pearls. Thin chains of pearls, necklaces, linking bracelets, suspiciously perfect fitting rings, delicate anklets, even a pair of earrings, once. Edwin silently points to his non-pierced ears, and his lover gently removes, holds up a single dangling earring from the little box. The little ball gently rings much like a cat bell when the Cat King turns it in his palm, shows Edwin the small painless clip-closure that would hold them in place without piercing skin. 

"Why do you insist on giving me jewellery? I can't feasibly wear all of it, especially when conducting my work. Most of it ends up in the office, in a box.” Edwin waits for the Cat King to look up at him, lift his head from Edwin’s chest where it rested comfortably. “It just feels a bit like a waste?” His lover doesn’t reply right away, slitted eyes dropping down, to where his fingers still absently play with the most recent gift, a simple golden band around Edwin’s ring finger. 

"Does it bother you?” Edwin’s head is shaking in reply before he puts any thought to it, and he knows the Cat King felt his chin move through his soft curls, cause his voice sounds more certain, less meek, when he adds “Can you just indulge me, then?” There’s something silent there, again, Edwin feels it coming into reach, he can almost catch it. 

“I suppose, it is nice to have a variety,” Edwin starts, speaking softly to the top of his lover’s hair, “it doesn’t really matter that I can’t wear all of it...” He trails off, he’s organizing his thoughts like he would on a case, slips his hand from his lover’s gentle grip, holds it out for both of them to see the gold on his finger catch the afternoon light streaming through the windows, “As long as I can wear at least something of yours, then, hmm?”  

The Cat King merely grins, no, beams in response.