#your writing is so good thought I lowkey teared up again

[daiki1k]

I’m drinking tonight.

GOD IM SO SORRY FOR DAIKIS REACTION. soon.

Round 7 - Tallis

Music had always really been the only thing holding Tallis together.

It made up every aspect of his life. Even his friendships were born from music. It was his passion.

When he was a child with a guardian who screamed and made his ears hurt when he made a mess or fiddled with something she didn't want him to, he retreated into lonely silence, curled up in his crate, massaging the soft places on the side of his neck where he imagined his ear canals ran down in the winding thicket of muscle tissue, veins, and tendons.

Introducing instruments to Tallis's life was the one good thing Guardian Kele had ever done for him. He wasn't stupid. He knew they were only there to occupy him, to make him do something useful, but the distraction was all too welcome to turn down out of stubborn disdain. The sounds he could produce from his instruments were different than the raised, screeching voice of his guardian. They didn't make his ears or head hurt. They didn't make him want to crawl right out of his skin, or tear his own eardrums out so that all he could feel was the soothingly warm, sticky slide of blood from his ears. They made pretty sounds. He pressed their keys and pedals, plucked their strings, and they thanked him with a melody.

He often thought that music saved him, because if it weren't for music, he would've never been sent to Anakt Garden, never would've escaped that lonely house or met Himei. Music saved him from a life of meaningless solitude.

Ironic, was the last coherent thought he managed on stage. Ironic how it's going to kill me.

He couldn't pinpoint where the bullet entered when the music stopped, or where the second did. All he knew with any certainty was that he had been right. He knew he was fucked from the first.

White hot pain kicked in after the initial shocked jolt of his body. His entire torso screamed with it, and there was blood soaking through his shirt, soothing, warm. He must've dropped the mic on his foot because it smarted too, in that superficial way you think things hurt until you feel something like this.

His limbs were loaded with lead. He was suddenly so tired. But he didn't want to sleep. If he was terrified before, he was in a state of cold panic now.

I love you, Himei had told him the night before, crying into a kiss that couldn't be anything close to romantic with all the fear they poured into each other. I love you, Tov had told him backstage, clinging to him like he was already slipping away, and to her credit, he was. He'd been silent for a few seconds before he managed to croak it back to her: I love you too.

No matter how hard he tried to stay standing, it was no use. He sank to his knees, and the only reason he didn't faceplant altogether was because there was something there to lean his head against. It was no use wondering if it was real or a figment of his imagination.

His vision blurred. Someone might've said something to him, but he didn't know what. Everything was going white.

"Sorry," he slurred into the immovable object, not to it, but to Himei. And Tov. And Flor, and Nyx, and Lang, and Sai, and Khoi, oh, I would've loved to sing with you, he thought deliriously. He thought of everyone he never knew needed him and came to the sickening realization that they did.

But he couldn't hold onto that thread of thought for very long. It faded right alongside the rest of it. Some familiar melody lulled his mind.

He went still where he slumped against Daiki.

(I'm sobbing ANYWAY Tov belongs to @ivanttakethis, Daiki belongs to @daiki1k, Flor belongs to @sotogalmo, Nyx belongs to @rockwgooglyeyes, and Sai and Khoi belong to @bittersweet-adagio. Should be noted that Tallis was close with Stasya, but since Stasya has already passed, Tallis doesn't feel guilty for leaving him. EDIT: I FORGOT TO ADD LANG AND TALLIS LOVES LANG SO HAVE A @its-langgg LANG)

[hoshigray]

𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬, 𝐒𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 | toji fushiguro

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Your ex-husband bringing the kids over for trick-or-treating is one thing; him wanting to spend the night at your place is another. But it's just for the night. There's no way one night can rekindle some old feelings...right?

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: ex-husband! Toji x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - the reader is around their mid-30s - Tsumiki (age 11) and Megumi (age 9) - mutual pining - kissing/makeout sessions - unprotected sex - Daddy kink - breast sucking + nipple play - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! receiving) - spooning + mating press - cervix fucking - breeding kink - praise - clitoral play (pressing and grinding) - pet names (baby, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie, sweet thing) - you and Toji have been divorced for five years - cameos: Gojo, Utahime and Mei Mei - mention of drool/spit and tears - humor bc I'm [not] funny.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.6k (....dawg.)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: happy Halloween, everyone!! so, randomly missed writing ex-husband! toji bc it's lowkey my favorite, soooo yeah, this is what we're doing to celebrate the end of the month! anywho, happy October, beautiful ppl, and tysm for reading my works!! Alsooo, ty for 2.8k!!!

“Trick-or-treat!!”

“Gasp—Oh my goodness!” 

“We came to celebrate Halloween! Also, Megumi forgot his toothbrush here again.”

Opening your door to children at the sunset of Halloween day isn’t out of the ordinary or anything special. However, it’s always a pleasant surprise when it’s two kids you hold dear to your heart. You greet them with a hug, two siblings you know too well to say you’re acquainted with. If anything, you’re practically family. 

The raven-haired brother, referred to as Megumi, speaks up. “It’s not my fault! Dad was rushing me last time.”

“Because you had to bring your stuffed animals last time, holding us back for your baseball practice.” Tsumiki, the older sister, snapped back. The two argue amongst themselves in front of you as you try to mediate. It’s no avail until another voice comes to the fray.

“All right, chill out, you two.” The voice belonged to the person approaching the porch stairs, your eyesight capturing the familiar figure walking up with two duffle bags. The one standing tall before you was the father of the children, Toji Fushiguro. Who’s also known as your one and only former husband. “Get inside and finish y’r homework, or else we’re goin’ back home.” 

The siblings stop bickering and head inside, taking off their shoes at the foyer and walking upstairs. Now that they’re gone, you turn to the man with the jet-black hair, his viridian orbs focused on you. The weather was chilly, so the man wore his usual dark denim jacket over his plain black sweatshirt, matching his jeans. “You look good, big guy. What’s in the bags?”

He greets you with a curled lip, and the scar on the side of his lip lifts. “Picked them up from their after-school sports, so it’s their sports gear and costumes for tonight. Mind helpin’ me here?” 

“Hmmm,” you merge your facial expressions to that of faux pondering, turning your back to Toji. “Nah, can’t. Got dinner to finish making.”

“Hmph, should’ve known.” He makes his way through between you and the front door. “Wouldn’t wanna break your pretty nails carrying heavy shit, huh, princess?” 

You glare at him using the nickname, hating his patronizing gaze. “From what I remembered, you would never let me carry the heavy stuff because you thought I was too fragile and easy to break. So how about that, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor?”

“Really? I don’t remember sayin’ all that before. You must’ve put me in a spell.” 

“Probably, I’ve been told I’m quite cute~.”

“Mmm, nah, more like an old hag of a witch.” Toji barks a laugh at your offended reaction, and he immediately ducks and heads for the stairs when you throw a sandal at him.

“At the very least, say I’m a cute witch, fucker.” You say the final word under your breath, grabbing the sandal you threw and heading back to the kitchen.

To say you and Toji were acquainted with one another would be the biggest understatement of the century. The two of you met a decade ago, fell madly in love, and married within a year of the relationship. When you tied the knot, Tsumiki had to have been two years old, and Megumi just turned one year old. You two had been together for four years after that, and you could confidently say those were one of [if not THE] best years of your life. You often second-guessed yourself being in a relationship with someone who had children, fearing that they wouldn’t like you or ignore you.

However, those worries were blown right away as the days went by. Every time you spent time with the children brought you three closer than ever; it was to the point that they saw you as their mother. How sweet! And there’s no denying that Toji loved you. The man would break someone’s nose for you  — yes, it happened before, and it wasn’t pretty — for you were his sweet little thing that kept him going.  

Well, if it was so great, why the divorce? Let’s just say you weren’t Toji’s first love. That title would have to be awarded to the Megumi’s mother. Even in her unfortunate passing, you can tell that Toji loved that woman like no other. It didn’t make you jealous or anything, seeing the man you love still mourn for a dead woman. Hell, you’d probably do the same if you were him. But, you can’t lie; it felt like you were cast over a “shadow” when it came to her influence. It was damn near suffocating to bear, especially in those four years of marriage. So, for your sake and his aching heart, you pulled him aside and suggested a divorce. And Toji didn’t fight you on the proposition, signing the papers and setting you free from the thick air.

Although things ended between you two, that didn’t mean things stopped being what they were. If anything, it was as if nothing happened at all. Even if you still don’t live under the same roof, you still make time to hang with the Fushiguros, whether invited to some occasion or exchange phone calls or texts to check up on them. Even now, five years after your separation, it warms your heart knowing that you get to interact with the people you care about. 

There are moments you find yourself missing living under the same roof with all three of them and living alone can be pretty lonely. But all in all, as long as they’re comfortable and trust you enough to be around, there’s no need to change things up again. Like right now — the four of you sit at the dinner table eating before the kids go off trick-or-treating.

“Are you going to trick-or-treat with us, Y/n?” The brown-haired child sitting next to you asks while finishing up her dinner. 

“Sorry, not this time, gotta be at a Zoom meeting for my job in a few minutes. But I do have someone else to take my place. Gojo will be here at around—Why are you two making that face?” You stop mid-sentence to notice Megumi and Toji at the other side of the table, displaying disgusted facial expressions at the mention of the white-haired other’s name.

“Why him?” They said in unison.

“Why not??” You question their irritation.

“He’s so annoying…” Again, in unison. Proof enough that they’re father and son.

You sigh as you get up to take your plate to the sink. “Oh, come on, you two, it’s not like he’ll be with you guys the entire night. He has a party at a friend’s he’s going to later.” 

“Isn’t he too old to trick-or-treat?” Tsumiki questions, noting that Gojo is way past his undergraduate years. 

“He is, but whatever gets that prick any free sweets,” Toji answers his daughter before getting up to put his dish in the sink. 

You exit the kitchen, head into the living room, and sit on the couch. The laptop you had placed there was ready to open and unlock, and you clicked on applications and windows to look through before your meeting started in the next three to two minutes. He should be here about—

DING-DONG!!

Now.

Right on cue, you motion for Toji to grab the front door, and he follows your command. “Kids, Gojo’s here!” You shout out to the two kids who still sit at the table. “When you’re done eating, you can go upstairs and put your costumes on. But whoever finishes last has to do the dishes.” You can hear commotion from the table as the brunette rushes to put her dish in the sink and dash for the stairs. Megumi groans to himself; you giggle when you hear him mutter an “Aww man…”

You pull out your headphones to connect to your laptop, put them in their respective ears, and prepare yourself for the meeting. Ignoring the faint passive-aggressive tones of your ex-husband when greeting Gojo at the door…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Your eyes flutter open, noticing the lighting change around the living room. The orange sunlight no longer decorated the space, substituted with the gradual darkness that overtakes you. The only source of light you can figure out is the flashing from the television screen.

Aside from the TV, there are no other signs of life. There aren’t any signs of Tsumiki or Megumi around playing or causing a raucous. It could only mean the two are still trick-or-treating with Gojo. 

One blink, two blinks. I must’ve fallen asleep after the meeting… You hum while sinking to the couch, burying your face into the pillow. 

But…since when did your pillow act like it was breathing with a heartbeat? And…I smelt that cologne before…How?

“Ya awake now?”

You raise your head, realizing you are not lying on your couch. Technically, you were; however, you were lying on something else on the furniture with you – more like someone. 

It’s then you realize that you were lying on Toji during your entire slumber, him leaning on the end of the couch, one leg spread to make room for you to sleep on him while you sit on the other. And you can guess that you had your head on his chest, snuggling up to his warm figure. He looks at you with his green eyes now darkened by the room, yet you can see their glow from the television light. And that small smile he gives you, the scar on the right side of his lip lifted upward. The familiar butterflies in your stomach flutter like before. Like old times sake…That must be embarrassing, huh?

You frantically try to get off of him, “Sorry about that, I thought—“

“No, no,” Toji places a stern hand on your back, keeping you from moving further. “You were comfortable.” 

You stare at him for a few seconds until your face contours to a look, and a smile starts to creep up while you situate yourself back to your original position, pressing your face back on his chest to listen to the beats of his heart again. “I recall having this couch all to myself not too long ago, so where’d you come from?”

“Well, I wanted to watch some sports highlights, but I figured you’d kick my ass if I pulled you off and had you sleep on the floor instead.” With the click of your tongue, he chortles. You bet your ass I would. “So, I decided to have ya sleep on me while I watch TV.”

“What’s wrong with the other side of the couch? It’s quite vacant and enough for a big guy like you.” 

“True,” his hand rubs circles on your back, an old habit he did when he used to have you like this. “But then I’d be lonely.” 

You titter. “That’s big for someone who said he thrives on being alone.”

“I thrive being alone when I’m working.” You’re glad he can’t see your eyes roll; he’d probably grab you by the cheeks like a child. “Besides, why would I wanna be alone when I have you for myself.”

And there it is, your cheeks begin to warm up. Or was it because you’re so close to him that his heat is transferring to you? That’s probably it, yeah. Let’s change the subject…”How long was I out for? I remember the kids left around 7:30-ish.”

“Mmm, it’s going to eleven right now.”

Three and a half hours? Damn. “It’s past their bedtime.”

Toji scoffs. The abrupt motion of his chest rising is satisfying in a way that makes you even more comfortable. “You still think they’re gonna sleep with all that sweet shit they got?” He snickers some more as you shake your head.

“They know better. When you guys get home, be sure to put their candy bags on the top shelf of the closet for the morning.” 

“Still traumatized from that one time?” 

“Uhhh, yes??” The memory flashes to you for a quick moment, but the dread from before still haunts you. Megumi was six years old and Tsumiki seven, returning home from trick-or-treating and immediately tasting their labor from that night. However, what you didn’t expect was for them both to eat almost half their bags. Let’s just say, thanks to their sugar rushes, they didn’t drop dead until the hour hand touched two of the morning. “Unless it’s the weekend, never again.”

The way the older man chuckles is so therapeutic — it nearly makes you want to fall asleep again. “You weren’t the one chasin' Megumi all over the place tryin' to get him to sleep. Little squirt gets his speed from me.”

“Awww, poor you~” You can sense the glare as you respond in a condescending, sing-song tune. “You and him are always butting heads. Like father, like son.”

“Tch, hate that sayin’ so fuckin’ much.”

“Why? ‘Because it’s true?”

“Shut up.” The hand he used to rest his head comes down to pinch your nose. You wriggle out of his hold with giggles, but he happily keeps you grounded to him with his stronghold and a leg wrapped around to prevent yours from moving. “He only listens to you. Such a sweet lil’ baby to you, huh? Puttin’ my own son against me.”

More giggles prompt out of tiny guilt, and you bring up a hand to rub on his chest. “He’s such a bright boy now. Growing up so big and fast.”

“Miki, too. That girl is way too smart fr' me to catch up. And she’s becoming so kind and strong, crazy to think she made me play teacups when she could barely go down the stairs by herself.” Toji hums, the vibrations felt on the pads of your fingers. “Think she gets that from you.” 

You shook your head. “They’re your babies. They do amazing things because they have a big guy like you to catch them if they ever fall.”

“Hmm, fair…But let’s not pretend I’m the best dad in the world. Fuck, never in my life did I think I’d be a dad, especially with two kids. I didn’t know shit back then — still! I still don’t know shit.” You don’t say anything, just listening to him voice his thoughts to you. Because he knows you’d listen – you always do. “If you weren’t there for them, I don’t think they’d be shining like this. Y’re definitely the thing that brought us up together. They look up to you so much. Ya did so well with them.”

Nodding aimlessly, his black sweatshirt grazing on your cheek. “Thank you. Same to you. Didn’t do so bad yourself, big guy.”

“Mmm.”

Nothing is said between you two after that. The only thing that makes noise is the voices coming from the television. The volume lowered, an initiative you could guess from Toji wanting you to get some rest. The silence was too awkward that it might torture some, but it was fine where it was. There was no need to change it, especially when you were comfortable in each other’s embrace.

That is, until Toji asks, “Do you miss it?” The rubs on your back go slower, his fingertips drawing a ticklish sensation.

“Of course I do. All the time.” You answer honestly, turning your head to rest your chin on him. Your eyes glimpse directly at his, giving him a tiny grin. “Why ask? I know the kids miss me being around; what about you? Miss me nagging and putting you to work all the time?”

He sneers at your comment. “Every day.”

It was such a simple answer, yet it had the power to wipe that smirk right off your face. Your eyes locked in his sight, and your heart tuning to an irregular rhythm. Oh, come on, Y/n, get a grip! “Ahem—Toji, I hope you know that I never stopped missing everything we had — I never will. Those years that we shared were probably the best I’ve had. We had happy moments, others sad, of course. But, God, do I miss it all. I miss it so much. I miss having you guys here. Miki and Gumi and—“

“Me?” Good Lord, if this man doesn’t stop looking at you with those goddamn eyes of his, such captivating orbs that say more than he lets on. Your breath hitches, and so does the hand on your back. “Hmm? Ya miss me, baby?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Why’d you have to call me that? And it gets worse when he places his free hand on your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin while the forefinger teases the lobe and tragus of your ear. Goddammnit…

“...Yes,” your voice was down a whisper, which could easily be mistaken with the television. But you know Toji heard you, loud and clear. “Especially you, Toji.” You said it. The words that he wanted to hear from you. They felt so forbidden to say, yet it was the truth. You avert your gaze away from him. But you knew that wouldn’t work, not right now. Toji taps your cheek with his thumb, and your eyes sheepishly return to his.

He doesn’t say anything, and that makes your heart beat at an unbearable rate. It’s all you can hear when you stare into his deep emerald eyes, the sound of it ringing your eardrums as if you could puke. Your throat running dry, so you gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob. If something could just happen to end this anxious torture, that would be great. 

And then your prayers get answered: something does happen. Toji slowly brings his face closer to yours — your body goes rigid, and you instantly face away before the inevitable happens. No, I didn’t mean that!

“Aht aht, don’t do that, baby.” His hand slithers from your cheek to your chin, forcing you to face straight at him. “Lemme see you.”

“Toji, wait,” your voice travels out in a shaky breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this. We can’t cross this line anymore.”

He listens to your pleas, but his body does otherwise. Placing a gentle kiss on your forehead while the hand on your back snakes downward. “Why not?” His gruff voice dialed down to a whisper.

“Because—Mmmm…” Toji interrupts you by licking the helix of your ear. Oh, you slick bastard. “We’re supposed to be done…” 

“That’s not stoppin’ me from takin’ care of my sweet thing.” Jesus Christ, you almost melted from the way he whispered that to your ear. He’s pulling out all the same old tricks, and it gets more hellish by the second as you try not to give in. “So, y're gonna let me take care of you like I always do, right, mama?”

Both his hands now rest on your ass, groping it while your hips sway as if they have a mind of their own. The leg between yours comes up slightly, making you ride on it. The heat on your cheeks has already blossomed to your ears, making it hard to think straight. Gripping his sweatshirt, your hips ride his thigh to ease the throbbing sensation that grows with every motion. Good God, you shouldn’t be doing this. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. However, it’s been so long that you felt wanted like this — wanted by him. It’s all the same – his voice, his hands, his words, his body, and the names he calls – yet here you are turning into putty. 

“Haaahh, Mmmfff…Toji, please,” Toji withdraws his face from your shoulder, leaving him to examine your expression. You must look so dumb right now, with your hooded eyes and shivering lips. But, at this point, do you even care? “Please…Treat me right.”

One moment, you see his gaze narrow with a devious glint. Next, you’re taken aback when Toji slams his lips on yours, kissing and sucking your bottom lip until you give him access. With a moan, you open your mouth for him and sink deeper into the kiss. Your hands come around his neck, keeping him focused on you and you alone. Not that he would have it any other way.

His strong hands continue to knead your asscheeks while you hump and grind on his thigh. Nibbling on your lip, you whimper helplessly for him. It strokes his ego, knowing he’s making you like this, the fucking bastard. He takes in your tiny cries happily, shoving his tongue to play with yours. You give in to him, almost losing your balance riding his thigh, yet Toji’s lips never leave yours.

You break the kiss to get an imperative breath, panting loudly and sweetly for him as Toji kisses and licks your ear. The sounds make your lower region twitch. “Hnnmm, fuck…That’s my girl. So fuckin’ good fr’ me always, Y/n…” You can feel him slide a hand up to the hem of your leggings, forcing it inside for his thick fingers to brush up on the bare flesh of your butt. You gasp sharply. Him squeezing your butt has you biting down on his sweatshirt. “—Hahhh, Oh God, Toji,” With every squeeze, he inches closer to your panty-covered chasm, where you know he’d find a damp spot. Please touch me. Please, please, plea—

CLACK-CLINK!!

The two of you are frozen stiff when you hear the sound of the door opening and closing, the foyer lights turned on. “Alright~, we got you guys home. See ya later!” That was Gojo’s voice, indicating everyone was finally back from trick-or-treating. This means that Tsumiki and Megumi are about to see you on top of their father, his hand in your leggings and smacking lips with yours. Your eyes shoot wide with horror — immediately remove yourself from Toji and stand up from the couch to pull your bottoms up. You barely had the chance to peek at Toji because the kids already run to the living room to find you two.

“Y/n, Y/n, look!” The brunette was the first to greet you with her adorable pink Barbie cowgirl costume. She and her brother, dressed as Sasuke Uchiha, cheerfully showcased their pillowcases full of candy. “Look at all this candy we got!”

“Wooow, you guys really went on a haul,” you can only hope they can’t see you sweating bullets through your fake reaction. “Wh–Where’s Gojo?” 

“He dropped us off here a few seconds ago and left for the party,” The raven-haired boy answered while scanning his pillowcase.

You only nod along until you frantically wipe your mouth, realizing the tiny trail of spit from the corner of your mouth. “Umm—Ahem, well then, I’m glad you two got all that candy. Now, let’s hurry up and get you guys home so you can get ready for school tomorrow!” 

But the children didn’t move an inch. Actually, they looked like they were going to tell you something. You lift a brow. Oh no, they’re going to look at each other. They looked at each other and then glanced back at you. Oh, God, no. “Uhhh, Y/n, we were thinking.” Big sister Tsumiki is always the one who asks the following question. “Can we stay over?”

You inhale a massive breath, yet you do your best not to exhale a heavy sigh. “Kids, you promised to keep the overnight stays to three at max per month. This will be the fifth!” 

“Yeah, but it’s dark out. Plus, it’s way past our bedtime.” The younger chimes in with a tiny pout. “We’ll be asleep by the time Dad gets us home.”

And here comes Tsumiki with the tag-team response to add on. “And that means he’ll have to make continuous trips back and forth from the car. Picking me and Megumi up, getting our bookbags, the bags full of candy, the whole thing! We already packed up our PJs just in case.” 

You stood there staring at the two in astonishment. There’s no way they thoroughly planned this out. There’s just no way… And to make it worse, they were making valid arguments. You open your mouth to say something, but the two give the best puppy eyes they can. The wave of guilt hits like a train, internally cringing. You turn to Toji, who still sits on the couch, and the motherfucker only gives you a shrug. Wow, what a helpful father he is.

You groan into your hands, shaking your head while looking at the kids who wait for your verdict. “…Alright, you can stay as long as you PROMISE to put those candy bags in my bedroom closet. Deal?” The happy smiles and aggressive head shakes should answer your question. “Good, now go ahead and take your showers before you head for bed.” They rushed to the stairs by the time you finished that sentence, so enthusiastic about staying the night at your house, and you can’t help but smile hearing their footsteps run up the stairs. 

With that being said, you turn to the older man again. Your brows are trenched down, but your smile is still present. “So, you legit just sat there and let those two tag-team me like that? In my own house?”

Another shrug with a dumb smirk on his handsome face. “Told you: too smart fr’ me to catch up.” You shake your head before exiting to get the kids and guest rooms ready, leaving him with the television. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The midnight hour has finally danced its way into the darkness of the night. Halloween is finally over, and the month of October is no more. The pitter-patter sound of the rain cleanses the neighborhood of its merits and festivities that partook hours ago, ready for a new phase of the year to take over.

After having the guest room ready with sheets and sleepwear for Toji and kissing the kids goodnight, you rinse your stress off with a nice shower and put on your pajamas to get ready for bed. After you turn the lights off, you drape the comforter over your figure as your body sinks with the cozy sheets and pillowcase. Your eyes close while focusing on the curtains of your window, the only light piercing inside being the lampposts by the street. 

…Well, at least that’s what’s supposed to happen. But that’s not the case because you’re not the only one lying comfortably on your mattress. Instead, Toji is here with you, in your room, on your bed, his chest to your back, and his hand roaming inside your oversized shirt. Your lips are now connected with his, sharing your erotic moans with his enticing groans, and you get a little louder as his fingers cup and play with your breast.

“Mmphh…Ahhhh, I thought I told you you’re sleeping in the guest room—Nmmff!” He tweezes your nipple with his forefinger and thumb roughly.  

“And I thought you’d be smart enough to know that wasn’t gonna happen.” Toji kisses the crook of your neck, drawing near your ear for him to whisper. “Besides, look at you. Still sleepin’ with no underwear on?”

“Hmph, only when I have a man around the house.” That answer got you another rough tweak on your nip and a purposeful gnaw to your ear. You knew he’d react like that, never liking the mention of another man leaving your mouth – especially during an intimate time like this.

“That so? What man you know that can handle all this?” Toji then moves from his side to be between your legs, pulling up your shirt to fully expose your chest. And your breathe hitches while his free hand travels down your abdomen to your bottoms.

“Ahhhh, no one. Just you...” You look at him with half-lidded eyes, taking in his reaction to what you said. The salacious grin on his face becoming broader should entail that he greatly loved that retort.

He brings his face to your other unattended nipple, “Good answer, princess.” The nub of your breast enters his mouth, and the wet warmth of his tongue greets it with lapped motions and grazes from his teeth. Despite that, it doesn’t distract you from the fact your bottoms are pulled down with ease and are thrown to the bedroom floor, leaving your cunt out for him, your erotic fluids seeping and glistening from the outside lights. 

Toji plays with your folds until he can stuff his pointer finger into your chasm, the insertion resulting in your body’s jolt. It’s been a long while since you had his thick digit inside you, playing and scraping the inner walls to evoke whimpers. God, it felt so good, this satisfying feeling returning to awaken your body to his touch. He interacts with your body as if he’s the only person who knows how to get you going – and it’s the truth. No one can put you in a blissful haze quicker than this man. And you’d prefer to keep it that way. 

The addition of his middle finger into your leaky entrance startles you, the thick digit making its way in with such vigor that he uses both fingers to scrape the velvety texture of your walls. Your eyes are now screwed shut at the growing commotion between your thighs, and the heat within your body flourishing all around gets to your head. “—Khmm, Oh fuuck, Toji. Please, don’t stop.” 

With a soft ‘pop’ noise from his lips, Toji replies to your demands. “I’m sorry, what’s my name again?” You giggle with trenched brows. Of course, how could I forget?

“Nmmph, D-Daddy, pleaseee, I’m so clo—Ahhhann!!” He puts his thumb to your clit, grinding down on it unexpectedly. “I wanna cum, pleaseee…”

“Hmmm, good girl,” he teased, laying down kisses, nibbling on the skin of your stomach and inner thighs until he arrives at your leaking slit. Your body jerks up from the bed when you feel the cold, wet muscle slowly lick on your clitoris before ravaging your folds. The sounds of his mouth on your cunt are so lewd to the ear, slurping noises from his lips with the lapping motions of his tongue claiming your come are too much for you. And when he uses his hand to swipe and pinch your clit? Oh, it’s a wrap. Your release comes out without control, biting down on your bottom lip to make sure your cries don’t leave this space for the kids to hear. Their room is on the other side down the hall; tonight isn’t the night for too many risks.

When your trembling body calms down and subsides, Toji withdraws his face from between your thighs. Your essence paints his mouth, and he wipes his chin clean while licking the remnants that coat his scarred lips. “Hmph, missed tastin’ you like that.” You open your eyes when your high finally evades you, watching your ex-husband pull down his sweats. His erection springs out and hits his stomach, your mind going rampant with thoughts as you ogle at his freed limb. Shit, it’s been so long. Will that shit even fit me again?

“Don’t think it’ll fit, baby?” Damn him, he loves teasing you. Toji then discards his black wife-beater, at long last revealing his well-built, brawny physique that has you drooling for him. He uses his hands to maneuver your legs—your knees pushed to your chest as your legs propped up on his shoulders. A position you’re all too familiar with. Your eyes don’t leave Toji’s cock as he aligns his cock to your slick-coated folds. “Take some breaths fr’ me, sweetie. Can’t take care of you when you’re all tense.”

You take up on his advice and begin taking deep breaths, reminding yourself to maintain the steady pattern as he pushes the tip of his dick between the lips of your cunt. Every inhale is where he nudges into the hole of your inner cavern, and every exhale gives you time to breathe out the pain that comes in for a split second. This carries on until the cockhead wedges itself perfectly into your vagina, along with the inches of his girth that stretches until the base kisses your lips, the tip of him kissing your cervix. Tears swell up in your eyes, taking more deep breaths to prepare yourself for what’s about to come. 

“Oooh fuuuck…Heh, yeah, that’s my baby right there. Fittin’ so perfect fr’ me, mama…” He puts his weight on you, keeping your figure unmoving under his bow. 

“Nmmmf, Daddyyy,” you’re forced to take in all of him, and drool trails down your lips with no hope of taking care of it. “…I’m so full, you’re too much…”

“I know, sweetie, I know.” He wipes your spit after kissing your forehead. How gentle compared to what you’re about to go through. “Gonna move now.” His thrusts start slow for the two of you to adjust to each other; the feeling of his length’s veins coming in and out of your chasm is so euphoric, and the kisses to your cervix want your body to writhe and squirm. But you’re bent into this position for a reason: forced to submit to him no matter what. So you do just that.

Yet your horny haze gets more potent once he picks up the pace, rutting into you with increased speed. Your slit, still sensitive from earlier, gets overstimulated with the constant grazes on your gummy walls and jabs to your tender cervix. It takes everything in your power not to come so early.

“—Hahhhh, Nmmph. Oh, shit, shit, shit…” Toji groans above you, the thrusts of his pelvis increase to an irregular rhythm, grinding deep into your cunt to the point of uncontrollable babbles escaping your lips. His bullying on your insides results in you gripping his length hard, causing the older man to hiss and moan at your contractions. “—Ohhhfuuuckk!! Jesus Christ, baby. Y’re gonna make me go crazy.” 

As if that wasn’t already happening now that he pistons his cock into your wetness, your brain turning into mush from the onslaught of ruts to your puffy wet chasm. Tears stream down your face, and more drool follows down with more precise hits to your delicate canal. The pounding in your head makes it hard to think of anything else, the squelching noises and paps of Toji’s balls hitting your cunt making it worse. 

“D-Daddyyy, I’m—Ohoooo!! Oh, Jesus, ohhhshit!” You can’t formulate a proper sentence, too engulfed with the electrifying sensations coursing through your body. 

“Damn, you feel too fucking good—Hnngh!!” Toji places his forehead on yours, resting his entire weight on you while his hips have a mind of their own. “‘Bout to make me knock you up…”

Oh, good Lord. The mere thought of having a child is the last thing that should be on your mind. But in a time like this, who in their right mind would be thinking straight? “Nnnfff! Oh God, pleaseee, fill me up, Daddyy!” Green eyes narrow with trenched brows. “—Pleasepleasepleaseee!! I want you to fill me up so bad, I want it, I want—Hyaaaaa!!” 

How can he deny your desperate, teary pleas when you’re urging him on like this? “Heh, you’re so fuckin’ sexy, mama.” Toji captures your lips with his, your mewls taken by him as you sink further into your pleasurable thrill.

Sporadic thrusts of his pelvis produce more raunchy noises in the joining of your sexes, his heavy balls smacking on your cunt as he drives the base of his cock straight into you. Your slit is now a puffy mess, come and slick form a soapy mess that Toji now harbors a milky ring around his girth. A few rushed, sloppy thrusts heighten your high once more, and then Toji presses his pelvis down to the hilt on one final, harsh thrust, unloading his seed into your aching folds. And your climax follows in a few seconds, the walls of your cunt fluttering on his pulsating dick as your essence soaks him. Your muffled shrieks are received by him, quivering under him until the aftershocks wash through your body. 

Once you two breathe at a steady tempo and the nerves of your sweaty bodies fall still, the kiss is broken with heavy pants and a string of spit that links you two together. Toji buries his face between your neck and shoulder, licking and kissing your skin as you’re allowed time to experience your clarity.

“Hmmm…You know I’m not done yet, princess.” Toji mumbles to your ear before stationing your legs off his shoulders for them to rest.

“Yeah, I know, big guy.” You tease him with a breathless laugh, kissing him on the temple. “Always wanting more…”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…So, you’re telling me you had your ex-husband spend the night? Not just the kids?”

“Yup, that’s what happened.” 

This morning was different from your usual routine – well, you can’t say it’s different if you have done it before, huh? After five years of divorce, you thought you’d be so used to waking up and getting ready for work without worrying about others. However, this morning proves otherwise.

It felt natural walking into the kids’ room and lightly shaking them awake, telling them to get ready while you whip up something quick for them to eat as Toji showers (using your bathroom, by the way). Watching the kids run down the stairs and eat breakfast puts a smile on your face, reminiscing about the good old days when they were younger and teenier. It sometimes feels surreal doing the same thing for them now that they’re getting older and taller. But seeing them bicker and interact with each other in your presence never fails to warm your heart.

When Toji’s finished freshening up and loading his kids’ stuff in his truck, it’s time to bid them farewell for their departure for school. You give them final touch-ups on their hair and outfits, reminding them to be safe and not get into trouble (especially Megumi, now that the boy’s been getting into fights). And before they rush to the car, you hug them and give each a kiss on the cheek. Here is where the warm feeling inside your heart begins to deteriorate, not wanting to let them go. Yet, for their sake – and education – you release them and hope for the best.

The last to leave was Toji, who came from the kitchen to the front door with a paper plate wrapped in foil in one hand. His name is written boldly by a black Sharpie. “This fr' me?” 

“No, it’s for Shiu Kong, for dealing with you all the time.” You stick your tongue out at Toji as he glares at you, not even moving out of the way while he exits through the door. “You better eat that when you get to work, you have a terrible habit of skipping lunch.” 

“Whatever ya say, mom.” He pesters you with the title, knowing you’re technically not a mother anymore. Yet it only makes you smile knowing he notices your maternal side. 

“Don’t forget to text me when Tsumiki’s soccer game is next week.” You watch him go down the porch stairs. 

“Will do.”He whistles. 

“And Toji?”

The man stops walking to turn to you, his forest green eyes fixed on you so quickly that you almost forget what you want to say. Or what you wanted to do. You place your fingers on your lips and blow a kiss with an outward gesture. It was an old habit you did whenever he left, something you can’t seem to get out of practice with. It’s embroidered in your mind at this point. 

And when he catches the kiss with his free hand and places it on his chest, it makes your heart skip a beat. Toji grins, “I’ll be damned if that was fr' Shiu, too.”

You snicker with a shaken head. “Drive safe, Toji.” Closing the front door, you stand there for a while. Your smile doesn’t falter; it gets bigger as you replay the moment instead. Thinking about him, hearing him, seeing him, it all drives you crazy. And that’s a good thing…right?

“I don’t know, sounds like you still kinda care about the guy.” 

“Of course I do,” So here you are, sitting in your living room enjoying the rays of the sunset decorating the space, in a video call with your best friends, Utahime and Mei Mei. You reply to the former’s comment. “Just because I don’t have the ring on my finger doesn’t mean I shouldn’t care about him. I mean, he’s the father of two lovely children.”

“Shoot, you’re better than me, then.” The dark-haired woman admits. “But you’re kinda proving my point, Y/n. Even when you don’t have the ring on, you two act like the same old couple, and it’s definitely not just for the kids’ sake. Let’s be real here.” 

You try to interject, but the pale-blue-haired other, Mei Mei, intervenes, “I agree. It’s one thing if you let the children stay over, but he also wanted to spend the night. Sure, he could’ve been tired from driving all day and such. However, if you’re still seeing a man for the last five years – while legally unbound – and he says he wants to spend the night under your roof, which is rare, that should ring some bells at least.”

“I know, it did…” you nod along with what your friend is saying, throwing your head back with a heavy sigh. “But it’s not like he’s never spent the night here before, nor is he banished from stepping inside.” 

“Oh? Then why is this time different from the others?”

Utahime jumps in after Mei Mei’s chirp. “Yeah, you’re telling us about all these nostalgic lovey-dovey feelings as if you’re falling in love with him all over again. What, did you two have sex or something?” 

An open mouth, yet no words come out, leaving you in a predicament. You could’ve just lied or swerved the subject to something else. But you didn’t. And the two women on the screen lift their brows with hooded eyes, a look meaning a thousand words. You couldn’t even explain yourself either because a sudden knock on your door captured the attention of all three of you. 

You stand up and walk towards the door, your friends still on call on the phone at hand. Opening the door, you’re almost stunned to see in front of you. Tsumiki and Megumi with nervous smiles, and their father at the car collecting the same duffles bags from last night. You’re kidding.

“Hey, kids.” The two of them gulped from not calling them by their names. You bring up the phone to face the screen to them. “Say hello to Auntie Mei Mei and Utahime.” The women on the line smile and wave at the children, who sheepishly wave back.

“Hi, aunties.” Megumi greets them, and then his eyes drift back to you. “So, Y/n—“

“What did you forget this time?” Straight to the point, no room for excuses.

“It was Miki this time! She forgot her soccer cleats.” The older sibling gawks at her younger brother for calling her out.

“Tsumiki, I know you have cleats at home.”

“I do, but these are special! You bought them for my birthday, and I’ve been wearing them to every game ever since! So, I was scared when I couldn’t find them at home.” The brunette was quick to defend her stand. “Also, Dad doesn’t feel like driving up here and then back. So…can we…”

You close your eyes and bring the phone to your face to shield your vexation. Twice in a row, the sixth time this month. You can hear the giggles of your friends from the other side of the phone, adding more fuel to the fire. You don’t look up until you hear heavy footsteps on the porch, seeing Toji holding both duffle bags with a hand and shoulder. He stares at you as you stare at him, a silent conversation on how to handle this situation. And when he shrugs with lifted brows, you realize it’s no use and release the long-awaited sigh.

“….If I see one more thing being left behind here, you guys can’t come back till December, understand?” It wasn’t anything serious, but enough for the kids to know you weren’t joking. They nod their heads in unison while you roll your eyes. “Okay, get in here.” They rushed inside with gleeful laughs, the shuffling of their backpacks following along with them. Your eyes then drift to Toji as he walks up to you. “Did you forget something here, too?”

“Yeah,” you lift a brow when he drops Megumi’s bag to the floor. Before you can register his hand on your chin, you squeak when he brings his lips to yours. It lasted for seconds, but the kiss was sweet and tender, sucking on your lip before letting go with a playful bite. “Meant to give you that when you woke up. Thanks fr' the food, mama.” 

Toji picks the bag up and walks inside your home to put the bags in the rooms, leaving you standing on the porch with an astounded expression. You couldn’t appropriately calibrate your thoughts until you heard faint laughs from the phone. Then, you realize your best friends witnessed the entire scene that transpired. 

Utahime, with the slyest leer, was the first to say something. “Oh yeah, he laid that pipe on you good, without a doubt.”

“Mhmm,” Mei Mei agrees with a chuckle. “And I'm guessing he’s gonna do it again tonight. Isn’t that right, Y/n?”

You end the video call with a heated face. “Sh-Shut your damn mouths!!” Again, you groan into your hands before returning inside. Thank God I still have those birth control pills...

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by rororogi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

calling skz clingy headcanons ◦ ot8

Paring◦ ot8 x reader

Words◦ 3,578

Genre ◦ hurt and comfort

Warnings ◦ reader blows up at the boys a few times, mild cussing I think, hyunjin is lowkey toxic in this but the reader is more toxic, honestly all of our boys are pretty dramatic lmao, they keep getting lazier and lazier😭, I fucking hate y/n in this like fr I'm gonna kick her sorry little ass, seungmins is... suggestive...dirty talk and fingering only for like one line, so is hans lmao all happy endings because I am not sadistic... or realistic

Taglist ◦ @thetoastghost222, @ur-fav-lvr

A/N ◦ honestly this is my super random chaotic thoughts I had at 2am bc I was really hating the way I was writing a love lived between the stars and the sea so I wanted to take a small break and clear my pallet I hope you all like it even though it lowkey sucks lmao <33

Also im lowkey fucking with making headcannons this is kinda fun...

~cookiecreates 🍪

chan

I feel like Chan would be the most emotionally mature about the whole thing, especially when he sees the storm brewing in your eyes before you even spit those venomous words.

"Fuck Chris, do you have to be so clingy all the time?" You shout, your mouth curling in a disgusted sneer. 

You've never flinched away from him like that, never been so mean-

He's first hurt then he sees it-

There are cracks in your demeanor; large gashes in your heart; he could read you like an open book; the stories your soul wished to tell resided in your glassy eyes.

Hurt people hurt people.

You didn't think he was clingy; no, you loved his touch. You were simply overwhelmed, overflowing with so many simmering feelings—his love did not have room to shimmy through.

So he makes room-

He tilts your chin up with a sincere voice and asks, "What's the real reason why you are shutting me out?"

The unadulterated dedication in his words leaves you in shambles. 

Chan would tear open his heart before your eyes just to prove that there are openings for your soul to pour all your pain into him.

and he would still find a way not to spill a drop

"It’s so hard,” you sob. “They told me you were too good for me, that I wasn’t enough. They said I should shut you out, run away before I got too attached. I had to make you hate me so that I could never weigh you down again."

Chan is fuming.

He wants to ask who said that? He wants to ask where they live? He wants to ask if you want to witness their destruction? He wants to ask if he should use a knife or a gun?

But instead, he says, ‘Darling, you would have more luck breaking the bounds of the moon than untangling the way you are threaded into my soul."

what. the. fuck.

Chan the next William Shakespeare up in here

...was this based on something I wrote for my new series...yes. am I ashamed... no.

I'm a hopeless romantic who wants to marry a poet.

Sue me.

You never thought the apocalypse would be so rewarding, because you are reeling, spinning out of orbit, a meteor spit out into space, hurling towards unknown destruction—destruction that tasted like fresh morning dew.

Chan was perfect.

what the fuck were you thinking?

He holds you through the night, chasing away the whistling of the cold winter wind, his warm arms creating a home around your heart.

lee know

do not ever ever ever ever ever ever ever call Lee Know clingy unless you are willing to dedicate your life into creating the next wheel of time because after you plant the seed in his head, he will blossom a garden of newfound insecurities.

"Can you please not be so clingy right now? I'm having a really bad headache," you whisper through the thick fog clouding your brain; you have been living with a red hot rod skewed through the back of your brain all day. You didn't mean to say the word clingy, but it is futile to search a thesaurus from a blurry page, and right now the world seems to be nothing more than a piece of abstract art.

He just wanted to hold you and you call him clingy??

To others, the sentence would be like water rolling off their backs, but to him, it was a ragged shard of glass stabbed straight into his chest.

Lee Know is extremely inexperienced in the world of intimacy, often clumsy with his actions—hesitant with his words, so why would you say such a thing?

Knowing how insecure he is??

You would only ever say it if you meant it fully and completely??

Honestly, in his head, he would be lowkey, really dramatic, but he's so beyond hurt, feeling like you're just picking at a gaping wound.

like I said, dramatic.

justified. yes.

dramatic... also yes.

I am a firm believer that his tough-guy act is only that.

an act.

He was pretending like he didn't care what you said, but when he gets into the other room, it takes everything in him not to shatter into a million different pieces, feeling so overwhelmed with how many emotions are coursing through him.

No matter how much you apologize after that, no matter how much you prove what you said was nothing more than your head foggy and in pain, it still will take lifetimes for that scar to fade.

and he will only ever get over it with a million reassurances and a thousand conversations

which you are willing to do as long as he needs it

changbin

Honestly, I dont really have a clue with this one, but I am definitely leaning towards him being more like Chan in the emotional mature way he handles it, but instead of comforting you at the drop of a hat, he just leaves the room and lets you stew on your sorrows.

"Your so clingy," you groan, shoving his arm off; rolling your eyes as the mattress shifts with his weight. You just want to be left alone. You weren't sad. You weren't mad. You were just tired and did not want to be touched.

In perspective, could you have handled it better? Yes, but what can you do now? I'm going to punch this bitch in the face I swear I hate y/n and I'm creating her

He's first very confused, then the hurt hits like a falling star crashing into his chest.

What do you mean he's clingy??

"Fine," he states, still dizzy from the utter whiplash you were giving him.

like what the hell?

Sleeps on the couch that night (bad idea don't do this)

He stews about it far past the dreams in his head

That is, until you trudge out of your bed in the morning with red-rimmed eyes and a face filled with regret.

After a shitty nights sleep without the heat of your boyfriend's arms, you realized very quickly what it would feel like if you were to never feel it again, and all of a sudden, you never want to be left alone like ever again.

The grudge he was previously trying to hold drained out of him, and in that instance, he jumps up, pulling you into his arms.

He is very quick to forgive you, when you voice your reason for snapping at him, was nothing but compressed frustrations manifested into the wrong source.

hyunjin

hyunjin. hyunjin. hyunjin.

I feel like in a fit of both hurt and the toxic trait of self-isolation, he would be petty and stay at the boy's house for a few days.

He had tried to give you a good morning kiss that day, but you were stressed and late for work, rushing to put on your clothes. The way he whined about wanting to be touched ground your gears beyond belief. You got stuck in your shirt, which was too tight after you shrunk it in the dryer, and your firm has yet to give you another one. Hyunjin's flighty hands wrapped around your waist, trying to help you untangle yourself from the mess of fabric, only for the button to get caught in your hair, pain ripping through your scalp.

"Stop it hyunjin!" you shout, attempting to unthread the way your hair has meshed into the slits of the button. "You're so fuckin' clingy."

It was all a mess—your heap of shifting fabric and jerking limbs, hair sticking up at every angle. His heart was crushed somewhere in a pulp on the floor in front of him.

He just wanted to help...

Your red-hot anger quickly bled into a tightening anxiety that pulled underneath your ribs as you imagined the look on your boss's face when you came in disheveled and late.

"I just wanted to help," Hyunjin sniffles, bouncing his eyes around the room, filling with tears. You heartlessly roll your eyes.

"Here come the waterworks," your voice is steady, flaming with annoyance mixed with a sickening tilt of mockery. His jaw drops.

you're being so mean

His ears burn when you glare at him, disgusted by the tears streaming down his cheeks. He desperately wipes his emotions away with the back of his hand, suddenly embarrassed to even be showing you the cracks in his soul.

He runs away, like, quite literally runs out the door, sprinting to his car and driving straight to the group's house, collapsing in a fit of sobs in Chan's arms.

He stays there for a good 3 days, ignoring all your calls and texts.

No matter how much it hurts his heart not to talk to you, he shuts you out in a weak attempt to show you what it would be like to live without him.

But this tactic is short-lived when you arrive at the boys' house, snot sobbing into his chest.

"i-im so sorry," you repeat over and over and over into his skin, hoping the further you dig into his chest, the closer the words will hit his heart. 

He's not going to lie; no matter how much you cry, a little bit of pettiness will still stay during the conversation, a small scar of his hurt dictating his choices.

"Why didn't you come home? I thought we were over?"

"I thought that asking to sleep in the same bed as you would be too clingy"

Your heart cracks. He sees it, immediately regretting all his words.

"I'm sorry!" he yelps, pulling your head straight into his chest again.

You shake your head remorsefully, "No, I deserved that."

Even though so much of him still wants to be petty, his love for you trumps the feeling.

(I'm not forgiving you though wtf)

han (this one is long asf)

Han is freaking out.

I mean like the devil's bony hand gripping at the base of his spine, stale breath wafting down the skin of his neck type of freaking the fuck out.

You had a job that required you to go on-site, on-call often, like Han’s—that’s why you were so understanding about his busy schedule; yours was just as bad.

Today was a nightmare. Your coworker, the devil in disguise, didn't show up for the presentation she had created, and since she threw you under the bus saying you helped her (you didn't), you were forced to come in and present it.

Leaving Han at the restaurant waiting for you to arrive-

You forgot-

It was debatably the biggest presentation of the year, showing off her new design to multiple new investors, and yet your phone kept buzzing.

You told Han this was important

You never sent the message

You don't think you have ever seen your boss so furious

From Han's point of view, he's been sitting here for 2 hours, and you are still not here.

There are so many scenarios flying around in his head—

Are you okay?

Did you stand him up?

Are you breaking up with him?

Did you get kidnapped??

Han got tunnel vision when he was scared, his restless brain shooting out dire scenarios faster than he could decipher the impossibility of them. It was overwhelming. The walls were closing in on him. Nowhere in the world was safe. His head was swimming, the room was spinning, the earth was popping through space.

He keeps texting and calling and voice mailing. The icy anxiety crystallizing in the pit of his core turns his fingers brittle, creaking as he jams them into his phone screen.

He can't breathe.

Too many possibilities.

Untill-

Your boss got fed up with your phone ringing, screaming at you to go answer it since it was clearly more important than your job.

he was a prick

You answer it, the heat of your building anger curdling a deadly brew inside your soul. Without looking at the 200+ messages Han had sent you, you answer the 50th call of the day, immediately hissing into the speaker, "Do you know what you just did, Han? I got yelled at by my boss in the middle of a presentation because your clingy ass can’t exist without constantly needing my attention for more than 5 minutes. Stop texting me." Your finger smashes the end call button before unruffling your skirt and walking right back into the room.

Han feels like he might just melt straight into the seats, the way his whole body burns.

The whole world stops for a moment, the earth bleeding down the walls, swirling into pools of muddy color. He was sinking, lungs filling with the ink of a million different sweltering elements.

He ruins everything.

He was so wholly overwhelmed he could barely crawl into his car, desperately gripping the steering wheel while the earth collapsed in on him.

He ruins everything.

It's almost impossible to get to his house the way his tears blur the road.

(that's actually fr dangerous don't drive while crying)

He ruins everything.

He doesn't cry when you walk through the door.

He doesn't touch you when you run to him, standing over him, huddled on the floor.

He doesn't breathe as you cry over his body, twinkling in and out of consciousness.

He ruins everything.

Your makeup runs down your cheeks as you try to shake him awake.

He fainted in the kitchen. It wasn't uncommon when he was alone during his panic attacks, the anxiety ripping harsh bouts of oxygen from his lungs.

You squish his cheeks together, forcing his lips into a pout, shoving your faces together, pouring unadulterated passion into his system.

He short c i r c u i t s.

"I'm so sorry," you sob against his lips. "I didn't mean to be so mean. I didn't mean anything I said. I was just stressed, and I thought I sent the message telling you not to text me, and I didn't. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Your voice is high and wet, pushing his mouth deeper into yours.

It would be sceintifically impossible for your lips to get any closer-

and yet his tries.

He pulls your trembling body into his lap, fireworks exploding from the ashes where your words had lain.

"So you don't think I'm clingy?" His voice cracks, fresh tears collecting on the outer corners of his eyes. You have never shaken your head so adamantly in your whole life.

"No, never, never ever."

"Then come here."

You two have never been so close before in your life, hearts tangling in your chests as he presses your body into his.

You were going to prove just how much you loved his touch.

:D

felix

Oh Felix, my kind sweethearted boy that deserves nothing less than prince treatment. He’s so kind, even though he’s so hurt. He’s actually scared he’s annoying you, so he makes himself more distant so he doesn’t bother you.

""Fuck, Felix, can you not see I am clearly just trying to relax? I mean, you don’t always have to be up my ass all the time," you snap, curling back up into the sheets Felix ripped off. You were exhausted—there was no excuse; you were just really tired. Felix, being the loving boyfriend he is, wanted to hold you while you slept, but of course, you being the dumb idiot you are, shouted at him.

are you stupid like fr cause like THE LEE FELIX WANTS TO HOLD YOU AND YOU SHOO HIM AWAY

you deserve federal prison

Felix is so many synonyms for destroyed that it should be physically impossible to still be alive with a heart that lies shattered in the pit of his stomach.

Felix doesnt know how to feel sad, angry, hurt, upest, embarrassed.

He just clenches his jaw, trying to keep his bottom lip from trembling.

Felix has always been secretly self-conscious about the way he expresses his love toward people, often being very touchy-feely. He understands that this isn’t everybody's favorite thing and how it can get fairly annoying.

He’s already so terrified you’re going to leave him; he overanalyzes every interaction.

But this interaction did not need to be analyzed to know what you meant. You were very direct about that.

The way your venomous words attached to his stomach, pumping him with poison that swirled his stomach sick.

You don’t apologize when you wake up, not believing you need to justify yourself. He was being clingy, and you had every right to express your opinion about it.

im going to punch this bitch in the face

As surprising as this is, he actually doesn’t cry about it. He doesn’t cry about it because he is so worried that him crying about it would annoy you, so he would rather let his sadness seep into the back of his brain than show you emotions that could potentially turn you off.

Like I said, destructively kind.

He really takes what you said to heart, trying his best not to give you any skinship unless it’s to guide you through a crowded room or pull you away from the bustling activity of the road, holding your hand until you get to your destination.

He actually feels like he can’t function without your touch, but he muscles through it, relishing in the small actions he can get.

He tries to show his love in other little things that aren’t physical touch. It gets to the point where he is so deep in his head he shies away when you try to initiate skinship, terrified he’s going to get back into the habit of the joy of touching you and make himself seem annoying again.

He’s so beyond scared of being a nuisance.

It’s been two weeks with this flighty physical touch, and it all finally starts to click when you notice his smile isn’t nearly as bright anymore and some of the stars in his eyes have faded away.

"I want you to be clingy again, please, please, please. I mean, cling wrap, Kola. If you ever think you’re being too clingy, please hug me a little tighter. I’m an idiot, a complete and utter moron. Really, I should be evaluated on why I am even able to exist in society."

His heart literally bursts so relieved he can finally touch you again.

He gives you the most dopamine-coddling, brain-boggling cuddles known to mankind that night.

Your skin is so close together it feels like there isn’t a part of your body Felix doesn’t occupy.

He has created a home in your heart that no other man will ever stay, where he will rest until the day you fade away.

seungmin

Oh bro is pissed

"You're so clingy," you deadpan as his arms wrap around your waist. You had seen a stupid TikTok prank on your For You page and had the brilliant idea to try it on your boyfriend. But the way his whole body tenses against your skin, muscles rippling underneath your fingertips, you know you are so beyond fucked. "What did you just say to me, baby?"

well you just signed your death certificate

So many ideas brewing in that beautiful head of his-

Like, your ass will be red, your stomach will be painted, your mouth will be filled, and you will be descending into the grave. Like all the rest are lovey-dovey 'I’m sorrys,' no—your sorry will be told on your knees.

He will edge you intill you are teetering on the ledge of oblivion

"You want to cum, baby?" He's so condescending, easily lifting your waist from the sheets, his sticky fingers creating bruises when he pins your legs down to gain more access to ruthlessly abuse your g-spot.

"Yes, Yes, Yes, please," you beg, body trembling on the bed, large qaukes of pleasure rushing through your bones as his mean fingers plunge into your messy cunt.

"But that would be too clingy wouldn't it?"

oh how i want his fingers

(this one is really short bc i hate writing smut but i feel like this would be smutty)

jeongin

I honestly have no clue. I feel like he’d be more confused than anything because, like, me?

clingy?

mf I barely touch you?

Honestly, kind of annoyed more than sad—like pissed that as soon as he wants to touch you, you think he's clingy. But he's like Chan in the fact that he sees past your words and into the anger brewing in your eyes, allowing both you and him to cool off before he says something he will regret.

He just walks out of the room and lets you calm down.

I am also a firm believer that this man is healthy as hell.

He could tell that his heart was starting to beat a little too hard and his head was getting a little too fuzzy with all the raging words he wanted to say. But instead, he just walks away and lets you calm down, then talks to you about it before you go to bed because he is also an extremely firm believer in the fact that you should NEVER go to bed angry.

this one is shorter bc like I'm lowkey running out of motivation and ideas

did you like this? check out my new series a love lived in between the stars and the sea here

or maybe read doomsday here

[theemporium]

Hi!!! First of all, congrats on hitting 10k!!! That is such a huge accomplishment and I can’t think of a more deserving blog!!!

For the cocktail celebration (which is such a cute idea omg!!!) could I possibly get 🩷 “The fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me.” with poly!TrevorJack x reader!!! (Or just Trevor if you don’t write poly!TrevorJack anymore, I’m just lowkey obsessed with that smut blurb you did with them haha but no worries if not!!!!) Congrats again Cece!!!!

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

23. “The fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me.” 

.

One of the perks of being best friends with the Hughes family was the access to the lakehouse during the summer.

And every summer, you could guarantee one thing for certain—where Jack and Trevor went, the other always followed. 

It was the same every year without a shadow of a doubt. They were always attached to the hip, always pressed up against each other on the couch or sat next to each other on the boat. Jack was always Trevor’s partner in beer pong and Jack always chose Trevor first when they played a friendly tournament of volleyball. 

Even despite the number of friends in the house, they always shared Jack’s room on the second floor at the end of the corridor. Every single year. 

You never once thought anyone could come between them, let alone for them to want someone between them.

Let alone for that person to be you. 

It was somewhere in the third week at the lakehouse when it all happened. The lot of you had decided to have a BBQ, Quinn putting himself in charge of the grill whilst everyone else helped out here and there before you all settled around the fireplace. There was a crate of beers shared amongst you all, someone playing music from a speaker that appeared out of nowhere and Cole and Alex arguing over whether the fire needed more wood or not. 

Ultimately, Quinn told them both to sit down and stop poking the fire with a large stick. 

One by one, everyone trinkled back into the house when the tipsiness began to wear off and the exhaustion started to hit. But you were still buzzed and happy and far too awake for your own good. You were content staying out a little longer, finishing the last dregs of your beer before heading back upstairs. 

You hadn’t even realised you had been left alone with Trevor and Jack until they both shuffled closer to you, one on either side and both bright eyed and cheeks flushed. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you look really pretty in the firelight?” Trevor asked, all smiley and giggly as he tilted his head towards you. “Because you do. Like, you really do.”

You snorted. “How drunk are you, Zegras?”

“Drunk enough to know I’m right,” he answered with a confident nod of his head.

Jack giggled. “He is right, though.”

You rolled your eyes, telling yourself that your face felt hot because of the fire and not the compliments they were throwing at you. “You’re both talking out of your asses right now,” you laughed off. “I should have known better than to think you two yappers wouldn’t be as talkative when you are drunk.” 

“You know,” Trevor started, flashing you a mischievous smile. “The fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me.” 

Your mouth went dry at his words as you stared at him, a bit helplessly. 

“It’s true,” Jack spoke up, the warmth of his body settling behind you as he hooked his chin on your shoulder. His breath was warm and ticklish against your cheek as he spoke, as he looked between you and Trevor. “And he’s a pretty damn good kisser if I do say so myself.” 

Trevor grinned. “Thanks, babe.”

“I—” You started but words were difficult to find. “What?” 

“Wow, don’t even need to kiss you to shut you up,” Trevor joked before jokingly pouting. “A shame. It’s kinda all we’ve been wanting to do all summer.” 

“That’s also true,” Jack hummed, his nose lightly nudging your cheek. “We’ve just been waiting to get you alone.” 

“You’re both drunk,” you breathed out, fighting the urge to tear your eyes away from Trevor’s heated gaze. 

“We’re drunk, not liars,” Trevor retorted. “We know what we want. We want you.” 

You blinked. “Both of you?” 

Trevor’s smile widened. “Two for the price of one.”

“I…I think this is a very weird alcohol-induced dream,” you murmured out, feeling Jack shake with laughter behind you. 

“Why don’t you kiss him and find out?” Jack mused and you could hear the smirk in his voice. 

You gulped. “What about—”

“We don’t kiss and tell, baby,” Trevor assured you, seeming far too relaxed about the whole situation. “It’s just you and us here right now.” 

“No one but us,” Jack hummed. “But we have one rule.”

“What’s that?”

“You kiss him then you kiss me,” Jack grinned. “Can’t be making me jealous, babe.”

.

[fuzzyautumninmetal]

Loving Husband pt 5

Olderhusband!Price 🤝 YoungerWife!Reader 🤝 Slight angst

I lowkey kinda made myself cry writing this also writers block sucks ass!!

Cw - slight mention of birth, being cut (not self harm!)

Part 4 Part 6

You and John had been living in your new home for three months now, the excitement of moving and setting up your life together still fresh in your mind.

At six months along, you look and feel like you're ready to pop any day now. The doctors have told you to take it easy, and John has taken this order to heart. You're only allowed to walk, nothing more strenuous than that. It's frustrating, being confined to such a limited range of motion, but John's dedication to your health and the health of your unborn children is unwavering.

It's this selflessness, this love, that makes you fall in love with John all over again. You had no idea when you married him that he would be such a devoted husband and father. But here he is, taking care of you in every way possible, always putting your needs above his own.

Standing beside you, John watched as you carefully moved around the house. The pregnancy glow suited you, highlighting the curves of your body and bringing out the softness in your features. Even when you were irritated by the restrictions placed upon you, he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you.

There was a time when he thought he'd never find someone who could handle the rigors of his life. Someone who could deal with the constant danger, the long periods of separation, and the stress of being married to a soldier. But then he met you, and everything changed.

Seeing you like this, so vulnerable yet so resilient, made his heart ache. But it also filled him with pride. Pride in knowing that he had chosen well, that he had found someone who loved him despite all his flaws.

As you walked around the house, you couldn't help but notice the way John looked at you. There was something about the way his blue eyes took in every detail of your body that sent a thrill through you. "You're staring darling," you smiled at him as you waddled towards the sofa.

Following you to the couch, John couldn't help but let his gaze wander over your form once more. The sight of you swollen with his children was enough to make his heart race.

"Can't help it, sweetheart," he said with a shrug, sitting down next to you. "You're looking even more beautiful these days."

His hand hovered near your belly, tempted to touch the bump where their babies were growing. But he resisted, instead choosing to content himself with watching the gentle rise and fall of your stomach as you breathed.

"How are our little angels doing today?" He asked softly, his voice filled with paternal concern.

You saw John's restriction when he came to touch your swollen stomach, it made you chuckled honestly. "You can touch my stomach you know" you smiled softly as you grabbed his hands to place on your stomach.

"They're kicking up a storm today" You replied with a smile. "I think they're going to be just like their dad. Always full of energy"

Feeling the subtle movements beneath his palm, John couldn't suppress the swell of emotion that welled up inside him. His kids were alive, thriving, and already causing trouble.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Full of energy is good. Keeps them strong."

He leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your stomach before pulling away. The sensation of those tiny kicks against his hand was enough to send shivers down his spine. "Are they going to be as stubborn as their mum?" He teased, trying to lighten the mood.

Your cheeks flushed slightly at his words, but you couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped your lips. "I am not stubborn" you said with a grin as you grabbed his chin to bring him in for a gentle kiss.

Caught off guard by your sudden move, John felt a jolt of desire course through him. The kiss was sweet and tender, making him wish that he could pick you up and carry you to bed, where he could worship every inch of your body. But he knew that wasn't an option right now, so he settled for the kiss. "Mmm..." he hummed against your lips before pulling away. "Still stubborn, I see."

After the kiss, you pulled back with a smirk on your face. "Maybe a bit" You murmured as you pulled him for another kiss.

Caught off guard by your sudden forwardness, John found himself responding to your kiss eagerly. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer into his chest. His hand slid down to cup your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"But I love you anyway," he whispered against your lips before kissing you again.

You pulled back from the kiss with a grin, "you better!" You kissed the tip of his nose before propping your feet up onto the coffee table, "will you massage my feet please, they feel like balloons." You chuckled as you looked at your swollen feet, so swollen you have to wear crocks when you go out now. Fucking crocks.

With a chuckle, John obliged, taking one of your feet into his large, calloused hands. He began to gently massage the arch of your foot, applying pressure to the sensitive spots.

"Gladly, love," he murmured, focusing on the task at hand. Despite the situation, he couldn't help but admire the softness of your skin under his rough palms. "It's hard seeing you like this," *he admitted after a moment, "but I wouldn't trade it for anything else."

You sighed softly as he massaged your feet, feeling the tension leaving them as he worked on each toe individually. "Just thinking of the 3 beautiful children we'll have" you replied softly as you closed your eyes enjoying the massage.

Continuing to work on your feet, John couldn't help but marvel at the changes that pregnancy had brought about in you. Your body now rounded and lush, carrying the fruit of their love. "It's strange," he mused aloud, "how something as miraculous as childbirth can also be so terrifying."

As he massaged your feet, you closed your eyes letting out a sigh of relief. "You're telling me," you said with a small laugh. "You're not the one that will have to push them out....or get cut open to get them out" you couldn't help but laugh slightly again as John began messaging your other foot.

At your laughter, John's own chuckle rumbled deep within his chest. He couldn't deny there was some truth to what you were saying. "But don't forget who will be there by your side when it happens," he reminded you, switching to massage your other foot. "Who will hold your hand and tell you everything will be alright." His fingers traced over the sole of your foot, finding all the tender spots until they reached your toes.

You let out a contented sigh as he continued to massage your feet. "That reminds me. I have a midwife appointment tomorrow for a check-up, I can't remember if you're on base or not tomorrow." You asked with a smile as you wiggled your toes.

Hearing about the appointment, John's expression softened. He loved these moments, listening to the heartbeat of their unborn children. It was almost magical, in its way.

"I'll be there," he assured you, his tone firm yet gentle. "I wouldn't miss it for the world." His fingers continued to work on your toes, giving them a gentle squeeze before moving back up towards your heel.

You smile at his answer, feeling happy knowing he would be there with you. "Good," you say, "I'd hate to go without you." You smiled lightly as he moves to your other foot, the massage feeling amazing, and you find yourself sinking deeper into the couch.

Once John finishes massaging your feet, he parts your thighs slightly so he can kneel in between them. He gently places his hands on your swollen belly and rests his forehead on your stomach. He lets out a soft sigh, one sign that something is wrong.

"I know you John. What's wrong?"

"This job," he begins, his voice low and thick with worry. "I'm going to miss so much, I might miss their first steps, their first laugh, their first words…" John always acts strong, he has to being a Captain, but you know him. You know him better than himself.

"I knew what I was getting myself into when I married you," you say, your voice firm but laced with love. You cup his cheeks with your hands so John would look up at you. "Our children won't mind anyway. You want to know why?"

He lifted his gaze to meet yours, his blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. The vulnerability in those eyes only made you love him more. "Why?" he echoed, a hint of curiosity mixed with a heavy dose of scepticism in his voice.

"Because," you continue, your voice softening, "they will know that their daddy is a hero. They will know that he's out there fighting for the world, fighting for their future. They will be proud."

John nodded slowly, his grip tightening on your hips as he took in your words. There was a part of him that wanted to believe you, to take comfort in the thought that their children would understand. "And what about you?" he asked quietly, "How will you explain it to them? How will you tell them that their father wasn't there because he chose to be away?" Even though he knew it was a rhetorical question, he needed to hear your response.

You place a finger on his lips silencing him momentarily. "I'll tell them the same thing," you say, "that their daddy is a hero. That he fights for people he doesn't even know. And that while he does that, he thinks of us. Always."

"You're my hero John. I've never doubted that. And our kids won't either."

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes as he savoured the warmth of your finger against his lips. In that moment, he felt like the luckiest man alive – to have found someone like you, who could see past the uniform and the rank.

"Damn, I love you," he murmured against your skin, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than anything else in this world." He then placed a gentle kiss on your belly, his affection for the three little lives growing inside you evident in every movement he made.

Your heart swells with love for John as he whispers his love for you. You reach down and run your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to your body. "And I love you, more than anything else in this world too."

You kiss the top of his head, inhaling his scent. You are both silent for a moment, just enjoying each other's company.

The weight of your love pressed down on him, grounding him in a way nothing else could. His arms tightened around your waist, holding onto you as if you were the last piece of sanity in an otherwise chaotic world.

He looked up at you, his blue eyes shining with a mix of love and admiration. "You know, I sometimes wonder if I deserve you." There was a hint of self-doubt in his voice, something he rarely showed, especially not to you.

You tilt your head, looking down at John with a small smile playing on your lips. "Why would you ever think that?" You ask, genuinely confused.

He shrugged, his brow furrowed in thought. "I mean, here I am, off fighting wars, missing milestones, while you're here carrying our children, preparing for their arrival..." His voice trailed off, as if he was unsure whether he should finish what he started. But the truth was, he had plenty of reasons to doubt himself.

"It's not fair to you," he finally said, his voice low and sincere. "You deserve better than a husband who's always away. A husband who can't give you what you need..."

You gently grabbed John's cheeks to look at you. "Don't," you whispered, your thumb stroking his cheek. "Don't say that."

He sighed softly, leaning into your touch as if seeking comfort from your hand. He closed his eyes briefly, savouring the sensation of your thumb against his skin.

"Don't what?" he asked, opening his eyes to meet yours again. "Tell the truth? Because it's the truth, sweetheart. You deserve a husband who can stay home, who can be there for you and the babies..."

As your trembling voice whispered, "Shh," silence enveloped you. Your breath hitched, tears threatening to cascade down your cheeks. "I want you, John."

John's glassy eyes held a mixture of pain and longing. "You deserve better," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

"No," you protested, your voice a feeble plea. "I don't want better. I have you." Warm tears escaped, trailing down your face. "You're not just my husband. You're my best friend, my lover, my partner...my everything."

He watched as the tears rolled down your cheeks, and his heart clenched painfully in his chest. He didn't want to cause you pain, but he also couldn't deny the truth.

"But I'm not there for you, sweetheart," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Not like I should be..."

You shook your head, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. "You're here now," you said softly, reaching down to cup his face in your hands. "That's all that matters."

He let out a shaky breath, feeling the warmth of your hands on his face. He gazed up at you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of deception. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion* "But I can't help but feel like I'm failing you. Failing our family..."

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. "Stop it, John. Please," you whispered. "You're not failing me. Failing us."

He exhaled deeply, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging within him. The weight of his duty was heavy, but the love he felt for you and the unborn children was heavier still. "Sometimes I wish..." his voice trailed off, the words dying on his lips before they could fully form.

He hesitated, clearly struggling with his thoughts. After a long pause, he continued. "Sometimes I wish I could leave it all behind - the war, the danger, the constant uncertainty. Just so I could focus on building a life with you, raising our children together..."

His gaze drifted over your features, committing every detail to memory. The way the light danced in your eyes, the curve of your lips, the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips...

"But that's not reality, is it?" he asked, his tone tinged with resignation. "Reality is me being called away, leaving you to handle things on your own...again."

You grab his hand, pressing it against your stomach. "But it will be in the future," you say, your voice firm. "When you retire. We'll be together finally, you can chase our children around the garden, spoil them rotten. Finally treat yourself to that bike you've always wanted." You chuckle, the sound light and carefree.

John's eyes flicker to your face, a ghost of a smile forming.

"But not yet dear," you continue, cupping his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. "You're not done saving the world, you're not done being the hero everyone needs."

His face softens, his gaze melting into yours. The weight of the world is there in his eyes, but so is love, a deep and unwavering love that knows no bounds. You know he's fighting a battle, a war within himself, but you also know that he'll choose you, always. He will come back to you, your haven, your love. He will come home.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he listened to you speak, your words washing over him like a soothing balm. He knew you were right - he wasn't ready to retire just yet. There was still work to be done, lives to save, threats to neutralize.

"You're right," he conceded, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not done yet. Not by a long shot." He paused, swallowing hard past the lump in his throat. "But I promise you this, sweetheart - when the time comes, I'll be here. For you, for our family. Always." He sealed his vow with a tender kiss, pouring all his love and devotion into the simple gesture. "I love you more than anything in this world. Never forget that."

[achilles-rage]

thirteen crows: chapter five

summary: you’re still reeling from the past 48 hours, but you still have to go to work. buck and eddie come to check on you, and are filled with rage at what they find.

word count: 2.6k

previous chapter

series masterlist

a/n: this is more focused on buddie’s thoughts on the reader, but i like writing it lol. the start of this chapter was lowkey hard to write and idk why, but it’s fine. enjoy<3

warnings: murder (cute<3could be slightly graphic??), stalking, i make buck and eddie kiss again because it’s fun<3, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

Work is hard without Grace, although you can’t help the voice in the back of your brain that’s telling you that it was hard when she was here too, at least, towards the end. You just found out yesterday that she was dead, for God’s sake, but you still have to drag yourself to work today.

What makes matters worse, is she’s supposed to work with you tonight, and the silence is almost too loud with you and Isaac working quietly alongside each other. Plus, with what happened last night, your brain is all over the place.

There’s no football game tonight, and there’s far less people in the bar as usual. Probably because of the murder just down the street tying back to the Thirteen Crows, you think. While you’re usually a little frustrated during quiet nights because of the lack of tips, the silence tonight is increasingly frustrating, because your head is pounding, and your thoughts about Grace and your dream-not-dream is making you want to scream.

Buck and Eddie pick up on your demeanor immediately when they walk into the bar, their eyes focused on you as they walk towards the counter. You don’t even greet them with a smile, which you do even on your worst days, and for a moment, they almost feel bad. This thought is gone almost as soon as it arrives, however, as they know that it’ll be easier for them to get closer to you now.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t even notice they’re there until they’re sitting directly in front of you, and Isaac nudges your arm. You blink slowly, your eyes finally coming back into focus as you look at Eddie, and then at Buck. You smile a little as you greet them, but they see that the smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

Seeing you like this is hell. They don’t want you to be upset, especially about Grace. Sure, they want to see you afraid, just sometimes, but never sad.

They know their actions are justifiable, and that you’ll thank them one day for making you happier than ever, but right now, they know they should feel guilty about everything. The problem is, they don’t. They know that they should, yet somehow, all they can think about is making you theirs to touch, and mark, and make scream.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Eddie asks when you finally set their beers in front of them. Your eyes flutter as you inhale a shaky breath, your gaze going unfocused again as you stare at him. Within a second, you’re covering your mouth with your hand as you let out a sob and running to the back room.

Isaac’s eyes widen, and Buck and Eddie look at each other, not knowing what to do or how to feel. Seeing the tears in your eyes for a split second before you turn surprises Buck and Eddie; you were doing so good for them all day, puttering around your house, and Buck feels his heart clench at the sight. 

They don’t notice Isaac following your path a minute later, telling them he’ll be right back as he’s already halfway to the back. Their heads are turned to each other, staring intensely as they both rack their brains for what the hell they’re supposed to do. 

“Should we feel bad about this?” Buck asks, his leg starting to bounce as his heart hammers in his chest.

“Hell no. That bitch got what she deserved. She’s just confused. She knows she wanted her dead, and she doesn’t want to admit that yet. She’ll come running to us sooner or later, and we’ll make her feel better, just like last night.” Eddie reasons in a stern, hushed voice, and Buck nods, mumbling a “yeah, you’re right.” Buck turns to look ahead of him again as he takes a sip of his beer, hoping the alcohol will calm his nerves. 

Buck’s eyes narrow, however, when you come back out a few minutes later with Isaac’s arm wrapped around your shoulders, his lips dangerously close to your ear. He feels his blood pumping through him, but now, it’s not because he feels bad. Any hint of guilt evaporates from his body, and all he wants to do at this moment is rip Isaac’s arm from your shoulders, maybe even from the socket so he can hear him scream.

Eddie smirks when he sees Buck’s reaction, and he knows he’s back on track. He wants to leave right now and plan a gruesome, bloody death for Isaac right fucking now, but he stays in his seat. He lets out a low grunt as he feels Buck’s hand latch onto his thigh, fingers digging into the flesh. He nudges his arm, trying to snap him out of his rage as he looks over at him, and it helps a little; he can feel his grip easing up, but the look in his eyes still looks dangerous.

Eddie gives you a reassuring smile once you’re back in front of them, and when you give them both a soft, tear-filled apology, Buck seems to snap out of it, and his eyes soften.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. What’s up?” Buck asks, giving Eddie a quick, knowing look. Eddie smirks and focuses back on you, leaning forward as you babble your explanation of Grace’s death.

“We’re so sorry, sweetheart. Is there anything else? It seems like there’s more going on inside your pretty head.” Eddie says, and you bite the inside of your cheek before you shake your head adamantly. 

They’re trying to figure out if you’ll say anything about your encounter with them. Working their way up to it slowly to see if you’ll break, which means they’d have to come visit you again.

Of course there’s more going on in your head, you think. Your friend-not-friend just died, and you don’t know what to think about it. And to make matters worse, rather than mourning the loss, half your time today has been spent thinking about those masked men, and what they probably didn’t do to you. And why you liked it so much.

“I’m just so scared. I don’t know what to do. She worked with me; she lived in my building.” you speak finally. You are telling the truth; you can’t help but think that it could very well be you laying God knows where, cold and soulless, but instead, you’re still alive. Buck and Eddie are about to speak, when Isaac’s voice cuts them off, and they try to keep straight faces as they look over at him.

“You don’t have to worry about it. I’ll protect you if anything happens. I promise.” he tells you earnestly, as if he actually believes it. They almost chuckle at his confidence, but their eyelids are practically twitching as they stare him down. That’s their job. And besides, no one will be able to protect you better than they can. 

The laughs threatening to escape their mouths disappear when they look over at you, and you give him a small smile. This time, it’s a real one.

You feel slightly more relaxed at Isaac’s words, and you can’t help but bury your face into his neck as you wrap your arms firmly around his torso. He shushes you softly, kissing the top of your head as he gently rocks you both back and forth. You don’t see Buck and Eddie’s reactions, but their hands are twitching on the counter, just waiting for the perfect moment to rip you away from Isaac and into their embrace.

You know Isaac can’t really promise that you’ll stay safe, but it warms your heart anyway. He’s not exactly a small man; smaller than both Eddie and Buck, but he says it with so much conviction that you can’t help the way your cheeks heat up.

They continue to talk to you throughout your shift, and while you reply to them with ease, clearly not as on-edge as before, you can still feel the pit in your stomach. Something feels off. You know it must just be because Grace is dead, but you can’t shake the feeling that there’s something else.

By the time Buck and Eddie leave, you’ve warmed up to Isaac, and it makes them seethe with rage. They follow you home that night, making sure Isaac keeps his filthy hands to himself and doesn’t try to take advantage of you in your fragile state. They make sure you’re safely behind your locked door by watching the grainy image on their phone screens, and then they make their way home. They know they could easily take advantage of Isaac walking back from your house alone at 2am, but they hold back. They have something better. Something that will take away their competition and make sure that you cling to them and no one else.

A few nights later, you’re walking home from work again with Isaac. He keeps close to you the entire time, hand brushing yours, and you can feel yourself slowly starting to calm down. 

Isaac has been the best form of calm in the storm for you for the past week, and it doesn’t hurt that he’s easy on the eyes. You can’t help but feel safe around him. 

It made you giggle at first to see the way he puffs his chest out when he walks you home, almost as if daring anyone to mess with you, but now you find it endearing. He’s not nearly as vigilant as Eddie when he walked you home that one night a couple weeks ago, but it makes you smile nonetheless.

You let out a sharp gasp as two arms wrap around you from behind, one hand slapping over your mouth to muffle your screams and the other hand digging into the supple flesh of your tummy. Your eyes widen when you see the masked man beside you, grabbing Isaac by the back of his shirt and dragging him into the alley you’re passing by. 

You feel the cool mask against your cheek as the man behind you leans closer to your ear, a muffled voice being heard through the fabric.

“You think he can protect you, sweet girl?” Your blood runs cold. 

That name. You hadn’t been dreaming; they really were in your room that night. No one else has ever called you that, and if you really had dreamed it, this would be one hell of a coincidence. 

You try to scream as the smaller man starts to throw quick punches to Isaac. His nose is already bleeding, and judging by the crack you heard, you’re sure it’s broken. You try to fight against the grip of the larger man holding you hostage, but it’s no use. You try not to think about the sheer size of the man’s arms encasing you; how strong they are as Isaac falls to the ground and holds a hand up in surrender. 

You can barely see through your tears as the masked man pulls out the knife, identical to the one they dragged across your skin in your apartment, and you’re sure it’s the same one. 

You close your eyes before the knife is buried into Isaac’s chest, but the man behind you tuts, moving his hand off of your mouth and letting his fingers dig into your chubby cheeks.

“Watch, baby. Watch how easy it is for us to kill him. How easy it is to get to you.” he purrs, and you let out a quiet sob as you open your eyes. Isaac’s shirt is already covered in blood when you finally look at his crumpled form, and you watch as the knife is repeatedly driven into his torso.

Isaac’s eyes meet yours before they roll back, and you almost fall over, your knees buckling underneath you. The man behind you holds you up, shushing you softly as if trying to comfort you. You can’t help but lean back into his chest, closing your eyes as you silently sob. 

The man in front of you stands up and walks toward you, holding the bloody knife to your throat, the tip of it pressing uncomfortably against your skin.

“Look at me.” you hear, and you slowly lower your gaze to meet the black, empty eyes of the mask. 

“You’re a smart girl. What do you think I’m gonna say, sweet girl?” he rasps, and your lip quivers as you try not to look away.

“If I tell anyone, you’ll gut me.” you whisper, unable to raise your voice any louder as you quote what they said to you in your apartment. You hear both men chuckle, and you tilt your head away as the man behind you nuzzles his masked face against your neck, inhaling deeply. 

“Such a good girl, aren’t you? He was weak. He couldn’t protect you, isn’t that right?” the man in front of you asks in a condescending tone. You nod quickly, whimpering as you feel the tip of the blade press against your skin harder.

“Yes. Yes. He couldn’t protect me.” you sob, letting out a breath as the knife is finally removed from your neck.

“That’s right. Now, go home, sweet girl. Wouldn’t want anyone else to die for you, yeah?” the man in front of you speaks in a low tone, and you nod again. His head moves slightly as his gaze moves to his partner, and you can feel the man’s hesitancy to let you go. He does, though, but not before he brings a hand down to your ass, smacking it hard.

You yelp as you jump away from them, almost falling over now that his strong arms aren’t holding you up. They both stand beside each other in matching stances, their heads tilting in the same way, and it makes you shiver.

“Go. Now.” You don’t waste any more time. You turn and run out of the alley and down the street, not stopping until you’re inside your apartment. When they can no longer hear your footsteps, they pull their masks off and look back over at Isaac’s body, slowly bleeding out. They meet each other’s eyes again with smirks, and then Eddie pulls Buck in for a kiss by the back of his neck. 

“Good. You’re learning to control yourself.” Eddie rasps against his lips, and Bucks hums contently, feeling the tent in his pants grow.

You try to catch your breath as your back hits your door. Your knees finally give out, and without the man to catch you this time, you slide down the door to sit on your carpet, taking in large, shaky breaths as you try to quiet your sobs. 

You know you can’t call the police, their words swarm in your head as soon as you think about that option, and you throw that idea away. You can’t do anything. Either way, from what you hear, the cops have no leads. Telling them would be pointless, and they might not even believe you. 

Your skin is itching as you sit inside the entryway of your apartment, sobbing into your hands, and Buck and Eddie watch you through their phones intently. They’re smug with themselves; the fear in your eyes is everything they wanted, and they got to kill the motherfucker that tried to steal you away from them.

They don’t miss the way your skirt rides up your legs; their favourite of yours; the black miniskirt. When they’re finally sure that you’re not going to call anyone, their attention finally moves to the tent in their pants, cocks hard and leaking as they picture the fear in your eyes and the edge in your voice. 

next chapter

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[silent-sanctum]

Your last fics tearing my hearts apart😭😭Anyways may I request jotaro kujo with a pregnant s/o? He probably would be defensive like that time when Holly got the fever

Ah yes! We have another 2-for-1 special! But let's make it a list of headcanons to switch things up 😉This one's for @lolsandlmaos and anon, and let me just say, yes; I love writing wholesome dadtaro content and I'm glad the audience likes some wholesome dadtaro content too. So, hope you enjoy! ♡

Before I start, can we all just silently agree that Jotaro really just wanted a family of his own canonically?

Think about it, we know he isn't the type to sleep around at random. What if the man wanted what his grandparents had and live a life without the Stand bs? The fact he found somebody and had a kid with her tells us that he tried to make it work, but we know that it didn't as we see in the series.

"I've always cherished you"

He wanted that life. He wanted to be a good father to his daughter. But he couldn't because of the family curse.

Anyways! Let's forget the canon for a moment and delve into some wholesome headcanons!

When he first heard the news, he was pleasantly surprised that he couldn't speak for a solid minute. He simply stared at you with wide eyes and stunned silence.

Later that day, the man is glued to your side holding you in his arms and he's uncharacteristically showing affection: He's nuzzling your neck, planting kisses wherever he could, gently swaying you back and forth, and most importantly, he's often caressing your flat tummy.

Now that's done with, Jotaro's already gone into Papa Wolf mode as early as the first weeks

He knows he isn't the sunny Golden Retriever type of guy like his grandfather or great-grandfather, so he isn't naturally attuned to being a first-time dad. Lowkey, he's anxious he might end up as a shitty husband in the process.

But what he does know is that he loves to research, is adaptable, and is a quick learner

He begins to visit the nearby library and study "maternal and child care". Then proceeds to go over what to do for each trimester, he studies proper diet and eating patterns for pregnant partners, and studiously digests a whole book's worth of "How to be a Good Father".

Being in this mode also means he naturally becomes protective of you. He makes sure that he has time for you and your needs. Want to go anywhere out of the house? He'll be accompanying you there. No doubt.

If anyone even remotely makes a rude remark about you, Star Platinum has already punched their teeth out.

If you thought Jotaro couldn't cook, then think again because when his partner is pregnant, you bet your ass that he'll learn how to cook faster than you expected him to.

At first, he's still working on the basics like knowing what ingredients and kitchen paraphernalia should be used. He has a recipe book or two propped up for him to skim over and study. He even calls Holly for cooking tutorials when he feels like he's hit a learning slump. His mother has already booked a ticket to your place and immediately teaches her son numerous cooking lessons

Weeks later, you're surprised that Jotaro has become a natural in the kitchen, being able to dish out your favorites with seemingly no issue. It turns out that while Jotaro did most of the work, he had Star assist him with the "finer" stuff (i.e. measurements, cutting, etc.)

Suffice it to say, he takes pride in himself that he can now make you smile with his newfound talent.

Then there are the cravings. Of course, when you ask him to buy the most random food combinations, Jotaro would simply say "okay" and buy them anyway, as long as the food choices weren't harmful to you and the baby. He'd also give you food even if you asked him in the ass crack of morning.

Anything to make you happy after all

When it comes to building the nursery, Jotaro leaves you to do the interior designing and aesthetic choices since he's shit at that. But when the furniture arrives in their boxes, then it's time for him to step in and does all the arranging, moving, and assembling for you. Have a planned layout? He'll follow them. Want the walls painted a certain color? No problem.

After you planned everything out and he finished his tasks, the nursery ended up being marine-themed with all the pastel blues and aquatic decor like sea animal plushies, a shell lamp, glow-in-the-dark fish wall stickers, and more bringing life to the place.

Remember when I said he'd do work, yeah he'll do the work. House husband style. He'll do the chores and let you rest, grumpily insisting you sit and relax when you try to convince him that you can do the lighter tasks.

From time to time, when both of you aren't doing anything, Jotaro would occasionally turn to your round stomach and reach forward to caress it, blushing as he does so.

Then a kick happens and the man's fully attuned to you in awe. On the outside, he's still a calm dude but deep down, he's so excited that the baby responded to his touch. You ended up scooting closer to him, seeking cuddles while he reciprocates as he still continues to stroke your tummy.

Jotaro, at this point in his life, has the patience of a monk towards his loved ones, so when the mommy mood swings kick in, he is more than ready to adapt to your every emotional breakdown even if he's just going to be there to either take it, calm you, or comfort you in silence

That also includes the part where you become horny. Of course, he'll be gentler with you during this time of your pregnancy, but he can't help but include a few rough bucks of his hip when he's about to go off the edge.

Other times, just touching you can help ease that heightened libido

He'll immediately drive you to the hospital once your water breaks. He'll wait with you throughout labor, hoping his soft caresses are enough to make up for his lack of comforting words. At times, Star will come out to help him distract you from the contractions.

He'd pace around outside the delivery room, anxious with his mind already overthinking what bad could happen to you and the baby. It's a good thing Holly is there to help reassure her son that his wife and child would be okay.

When Jotaro finally gets to visit, his eyes land on the swaddled little one in her tiny crib stationed beside your bed. He beelines straight to it and pauses in complete awe at the tiny baby cooing before him.

You can't help but giggle as your husband's eyes start to water as he gingerly reaches down to pick up his newborn daughter. He's still in awe, completely fixated on baby Jolyne.

Then after he sits down on the chair by your bedside, he brings his index to touch her and his heart skips a beat when the baby grasps it with her whole hand.

And the waterworks are broken and he ends up leaning against your side while you nuzzle against him as he tries to regain composure from tearing up so much from seeing and feeling his bundle of joy.

Admittedly, Jotaro is scared about whether he'd do a good job being a father, but to both you and himself, he promises that he'll do his damn best.

[girlboypersonthingy]

Can you write something platonic about alastor, like tiny things he might do around people that are his way of showing care around the hotel and people around him?

Yessss I love this creepy king!!! I know he has a soft spot somewhere in him, he’s just a weirdo. Thanks for requesting! And enjoy~ ❤️

Platonic Alastor Headcanons ❣️

If he likes you, he’ll talk to you quite often. He’ll even make jokes at your expense, might even go as far as to bully you or tease you about things he knows will get a reaction out of you.

But don’t get it twisted, if Alastor didn’t like you, he would either straight up ignore that you even exist or straight up threaten you and do his best to scare you off. So the fact that he even talks to you, regardless of the passive aggressive comments, is a good sign.

Taps his mic cane on the head of those he likes. Doesn’t really like physical touch but will occasionally touch you and others at the hotel, mostly with his cane but sometimes with his big claws.

If he really cares for you, Alastor will offer to share things with you. For example, he’ll invite you into his radio tower for a behind the scenes tour, he’ll offer you some of whatever is on his plate if you accidentally interrupt his dinner (even if it’s disgusting, it’s the thought that counts right?)

Won’t hesitate to destroy someone for trying to mess with you, anyone at the hotel or the hotel itself…as we saw when he slaughtered all those loan sharks for Mimzie.

He can be very frightening when he wants to be or needs to be, he never backs down from a fight.

Although, when Alastor has a soft spot for you, he will check in with you after he goes all scary crazy on someone.

Bro be like 😈👹 *radio static and screeching* and then immediately turn his attention to you like 😇 ‘oh you saw that? My bad.’

“Oh darling! I sincerely apologize for letting you see me that way. But! As your hotelier and also the radio demon, I must step up when someone tries to mess with us. You feeling alright? Yes? Good! Off you go then.”

He’s an extremely smart and carefully calculated man so really, any show of affection, care, consideration, concern should not be taken lightly.

Will also pull those typical, polite gestures like holding a door open for someone, offering his seat up when there’s no other open seats, magically summoning an umbrella for his company while on a walk in the rain, ect.

Again, as simple as that may seem, if this guy doesn’t like you he’s gonna do the exact opposite. Slamming doors in your face, lowkey trying to trip you as you walk past him, ect.

If he happens to catch you crying all alone, he won’t leave you be until you’re feeling better and your tears have stopped. Think when he went to comfort and encourage Charlie when she was crying in bed.

He will stay beside you, either aggressive praising you and trying to up your mood with encouragement or he will be cracking lame jokes or even offering to go kill whoever made you upset.

Is actually very easy to tell if the radio demon likes you or not. Alastor lets his feelings show through his actions.

As long as Alastor isn’t threatening you, ignoring you or trying to scare the shit out of you, then he likes you :)

[angelsnkisses]

thinking about dark!jack <3

💟 nsfw - mdni 💟

A/N: i tried to resist but.. well, you know me. this is my first time trying something like this, i'm kinda nervous 😭. (i did make it relatively tame, since i don't have much experience with it!)

warnings: dark!softdom!jack, sub!gn!reader, (briefly implied fem anatomy, sorry!!) overstimulation, unprotected sex, degrading/mocking, use of safe word, lowkey ignoring safeword, dubcon (?), creampie

• he's so unfair the whole time he fucks you.. like, you'd be a sobbing, overstimulated mess, begging him for mercy as he pounds into you so roughly :(.

"aw, you need a break? don't wanna cum anymore?"

• he'll have your legs around his waist, one hand keeping your wrists above your head while the other holds your hip, pinning you down and rocking into you hard. there'd be a sticky, white ring around his base from you cumming over and over again, which only drives him even further past the point of reason.

• he'll talk you through it (but that doesn't mean he's equitable in any way, he makes sure you understand that he's in charge). whenever you start whining and insisting you need a break, he's all sweet and lovey towards you, voice dripping with honey while he reassures your deluged mind.

"you can take it, look how well you're doing for me."

"just a couple more, yeah? there you go.."

• this man has insane stamina, he'll cum inside you over and over and still manage to keep fucking you. it takes a whole lot to get jack to tap out, which he hasn't ever done so far. it's always you who has to croak out the safeword.

• he stops when you use it.. but he's not immediately cleaning you up and asking you what he can do for you. no, jack just looks down at you, pouting his lower lip and slowing his thrusts down to a snails pace. he'll ignore your meek pleads and attempts to get your wrists free, the hand on your hip snaking up to your face to cradle it gently.

"it's too much for you, hm? feels too good?"

• he'll mock pity at your nod in agreement, smiling sympathetically when you give him those red, teary puppy eyes and start sniffling quietly. he'll wipe the tears away from your heated cheeks and press a kiss to your nose, resting his forehead on yours to start cooing at you.

"you can do it, doll, i know you like it.. just gotta relax, mm?"

"you're making me feel so good.. you wanna make me feel good, don't you?"

• and of course you do :(.

• he has a way of.. persuading you. he knows just how to get into your pretty little head, and as much as he should feel guilty, he doesn't. he wants you all to himself, and he has no problem doing whatever he can to keep you. he craves your dependence on him, as twisted and toxic as it seems.

• the day you told him you couldn't get off without him anymore, he lost his fucking mind. he had never fucked you so hard, spewing out praises and filthy comments the whole time. he was over the moon about the effect he had on you, and he made it real obvious the entire time.

"i bet you thought about this, hm? touching yourself, pretending it was me, trying to cum so bad."

• he'll probably make you finish anywhere from four to six times before he's satisfied, finally pulling out of your abused hole with his eyes pinned to what he's doing. why? because he just has to get an eyeful of all the cum that spills out of you, making a huge mess on your bed (i hope you laid a towel out).

• he completely fucks you out on the regular, like genuinely pray for your legs.. and your spine.

• he's honestly so genuine during aftercare, especially after he's real rough with you. he'll help you wobble over the bathroom to get you all cleaned up, pressing kisses to your warm skin and mumbling quiet praises the whole time.

**

A/N: i'm so sorry for this 😭 it's been rotting in the back of my mind and i needed to write it down before i started going insane. hope you enjoyed though, happy scrolling <3.

[pompomlol]

i’m listening to die with a smile by bruno mars and lady gaga so let me cook rq

thinking of childhood bsf to lovers to exes with jake. you guys dated for a bit but ultimately broke up due to you two going in different directions that didn’t align with each other.

fast forward, you see a global public service announcement saying that a massive meteor shower is going to strike earth and destroy everything, saying that we only have 5 hours left before it starts (cause the government lowkey sucks) and as you think about the impact this would, the things you wanted to do that you’ll never have the chance to do, family members, friends, your mind wonders to jake, all the good times you had to together.

and without much thought, you grab your shoes and just run out the door. not caring that what you’re doing is crazy and irrational, that he might not even be there when you get there, but the small chance that he might keeps you going.

you make it to a run down apartment complex, the one you and jake used to live in as kids, living thing across from each other, spending any nights together, laughing, crying and cuddling on the roof top. you run up the stairs and open the door to see it empty. just as you expected, but that doesn’t stop you from waiting there for almost an hour.

soon you hear footsteps from the roof entrance and low and behold, there he is at the door. the two of you just stare at each other, surprised by the fact that you two had the same idea. you stand there for a moment, before running up and giving a giant hug, tears start to well up in your eyes, and he holds you just as tight as you melt into his touch.

you two spend the next three hours catching up, laughing at your shared (and slightly idiotic) idea to meet on the roof. “it’s almost like fate” he said in that thick australian accent you missed so much. as the first meteor comes in sight, you start to tear up as you realizes this is truly the end. “and i never even got to tell you how i feel”

as he looks at you in confusion, you admit to him that you never truly fell out of love for him romantically, how you wanted to make it work but you just couldn’t, how you wanted to marry him, possibly start a family. “it’s kind of stupid considering how much time has passed” you say through your tears.

jake took your face in his hand, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. you lean into his palm, feeling the warmth radiate on your skin. and as the meteor begin to crash down around, the loud crashes of buildings being knocked down, all you could see was him, all you could feel was him. he leans in, pressing his lips to yours. the two of you moved against each other, tears running down your faces as you spent your last moments together. he pulls away, a giant smile on his face as he gazes into your eyes, like they’re windows into your soul. a crash nearby breaks you from his gaze, seeing a building had crashed down nearby.

“hey” jake said, gently grabbing your cheek to face him again. “it’s just us, ok” and he leans your forehead against his “it’s just us” you stare at him from the weird angle, a smile growing across your face, that his face mirrors. and you stand there, in each others presence and warmth, until you hear something coming towards you, and everything goes black.

a/n: i started writing this a month ago, and i finally finished it. i originally wrote it for one last time by ariana grande, but i thought die with a smile would fit the concept better. sorry if it sucks, i’m not a writer, just a silly little scenario i had in my head and thought i would share it with you all. hope you enjoy it :)

[https-lvesick]

now playing: 200 - minhyung's version by mark

summary ・ after losing the people he loved the most, mark could never move on... but is it really that bad when you return? ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤgenre ・ angst (that's the first idea that came out when i was listening to this fucking song, thanks mark) ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤcontent ・ grieve, character death, spiderverse is mentioned (and used), silk!reader again because i love her! lowkey toxic at the end but... uh... yeah... ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwc ・ 1980

[notes] i may be a bit uh... invested in spidermark, i admit it. this idea came out when i was listening to the mentioned song lol and whenever you guys see a post "now playing" keep in mind that the fic was plotted because of the song! ngl i literally sobbed real hard while writing the first two paragraphs... i guess i was a bit overwhelmed...

and there he was again. sitting on top of a building, doing your favourite activity together, looking at the moon. his mask was discarded beside bim, his phone in hands, earbuds paired and the song he wrote for you was playing on repeat while he watched some videos of you.

if only he had been faster. you would be there too, with him. now he has no one for him. he wasn't capable of saving the people he loved the most so why is the city still counting on him? why was he doing all of this when, out of all people in the country, he couldn't save only two...

"baby, look! aren't they the cutest?" you point to a pet café, where three cats could be seen by the window.

"they surely are! oh look, they're greeting you!" his voice is joyful. the soft and lovely tone and the sparkling eyes whenever he looked at you or even thought about you were undeniable signs of his love and adoration for you.

"can we have one when we move in together?" you asked, looking at him over the phone. and who was him to deny when you looked so adorable like that?

"we surely can, love." he giggles. It was one of his many memories with you, but this one is where you mentioned moving in with him. a tear dropped at the screen, wetting the phone and suddenly, there was mark again, sobbing.

you finally graduated from high school and were going to attend the same university, so why not move in together? you've spent years together, attached to the hip, in a joyful friendship, which later evolved into a romantic relationship and you couldn't been happier. mark and you were sure you could handle each other's weird habits and were ready for that. let's be honest, you've seen each other at its worst multiple times, and nothing could make your relationship weird.

that time... when he stupidly let you go... you were excited. talking about new cute decorations you found on a website and cat's products for the new addition to your and mark's family.

but that fucking scumbag needed to target you. he needed to take you from him...

every single day mark still reminisced in that moment. he couldn't think of anything other than you. you were his first thought in the morning when he woke up and the last when he was going to sleep. he tried to focus on the good parts. when he had you. but it was hard not to remember he was the one to blame for your loss. after all, he was your superhero. your spideyboy.

his heart clenched again and, by that time, his face was completely drenched in tears. he couldn't stop thinking about you. and this was making him sicker and sicker every day.

the gadget on his suit blinked, announcing a new mission for spiderman. and that was the one thing keeping mark alive. he was trying to compensate for his loss by overworking himself.

"imma make it for you, my love..." he mumbled to himself, drying, uselessly, his face, before standing up.

honestly, mark didn't know how he ended up in this situation. suddenly the city was full of spiders, which he didn't even know that could exist.

"so wait... uh... you're... me... but from another universe?" he tried to cope, he was, really hard, but... how did that happen?

"not you, i'm me, but yeah..." the other spider said. "and there's someone else, silk. as soon as she found out about it, she was willing to help us." he smiled.

"yeah! she travels through the multiverse a lot!" the blonde girl said, swinging her legs.

"but she's a bit late, i see..." the spider who seemed the oldest, spoke, grumpy as always. mark had already noticed it...

they were discussing loudly and mark's head was spinning. when, in a million years, he could guess there were other spiders? and that there was a multiverse. and that he could travel through it whenever he wanted.

suddenly an orange portal appeared and another spider could be seen coming. another woman.

"sorry guys, i was... busy..." she reasoned, wiping off some blood on staining her suit.

as soon as she spoke, mark felt a pang in his heart because why is her voice so identical to yours? and your body proportions? yeah, he was really confused.

but, when the named silk, took off the part of her suit that was hiding half of her face, mark's blood drained. his face was terrified and the blonde girl named gwen noticed it.

"hey... you fine?" she asked, tapping his shoulder.

the spider version of you approached him with concern in your eyes. "uh... mark, right? what's wrong?"

everything was wrong! it was you! his love, his girlfriend. the woman he'd burn the world for if this meant to keep you safe. you were alive? and a spider in another universe? what the fuck was going on?

"y-yeah... i just... need some air..." he quickly grabbed his mask and put it on.

"we literally on top of a building..." the other spider named mark mumbled, watching the guy jump off, swinging on his webs.

it was kinda comic the amount of times the spiderman could be spotted up in buildings in random times of the day doing nothing. actually doing the same thing he had been doing for good seven months... thinking.

"great thing you're fine. i thought you were about to pass out." behind him there was your voice. he pressed his eyes together, trying to remember: you were not you. she was not you.

"sorry..." he mumbled. "i was... uh... having a hard time..." he tried to reason. but as soon as you sat beside him, he lost it completely. but how could he cope when she was exactly like you. when she even had the same scent he could never forget.

"you know... that grumpy man out there and me are kind of... responsible for this uh... spiderverse thing. so i kinda feel like we could take care of you. and i'm definitely in charge of gwen, so you can report her behaviour to me if needed." you laugh and mark can feel his heart warming at his favourite sound. "the point is... if you need to talk... i'm here to listen..."

oh and he wants, more than anything. he wants to tell you how much he misses you. how he wants to just leave this life of superhero and maybe kidnap you, so you can live together, far away from this mess of a life. but... it's not you... it's not.

you sighed and smiled, caressing his shoulders before standing up. maybe you got the hint, he didn't want to talk, or maybe he wasn't ready for it.

"i had a girlfriend..." he blurted out and you stopped. even if he wasn't mentally prepared to talk about you again, especially with someone who is a carbon copy of the woman he loved the most, mark knew he needed to. he needed to release this fog of blame that was plaguing his mind and heart ever since the beginning.

you kept your distance, trying to make him as comfortable as possible.

"she was... the girl of my dreams, you know." he smiled, already feeling the tears starting to prick up in his eyes. "did you ever feel like... living in heaven just by having a special person by your side?" he asked and you hummed in response. "that was it... that was what she was for me. my fucking world ever since we met each other when we were only six."

he paused, sighing deeply, wiping some tears off his face. you waltzed towards him slowly, resuming your previous position beside him.

"we were about to move in together. we were gonna attend the same university, so why not? she was so excited, she was thinking of having a cat as our child..." mark smiled lovingly and you couldn't help but do the same. "but then... a fucking bastard, who i thought was my best friend, took her from me. i wasn't... fast enough to catch her while she was falling... i..." he sobbed and you touched his back, trying to comfort him in some way. "it happened seven months ago and i still can't move on. i overwork myself as spiderman, forgetting about my normal life..." he chuckled. "in hopes that i can stop thinking about it for a second, but it's kinda impossible." and for the first time he looked in your eyes.

you could see the pain right in his soul, it's like you could read him like an open book, but there was a hint of pure love. he locked his eyes to yours and frowned, letting more tears fall.

"and it doesn't help the bare fucking minimum that you look exactly like her. from your eyes to your feet, you are her. so why here? why, out of the other many universes out there, it had to be mine?" the pain in his tone made you feel guilty.

you were taken aback by his words. speechless. you averted your gaze from his, but he was still looking at you.

"but you know... i'm kinda relieved now... i can finally feel you here after all. i know you're not her. you're not... mine... but please, let me hug you... that's the only thing i'm asking for now... please..." he mumbled, desperately. she was the one thing that kept him close to you again. he needed it for his life.

without thinking too much you pleaded. the sigh of pure relief he let out made you cry a bit. you could tell he needed it like it was oxygen. like this would make him live again.

mark touched every part of your body, trying to feel everything of you like it was the last time he could do it. your hair, your shoulders, your waist. he buried his face in the crook of your neck so he could smell your scent once again like it was some kind of aphrodisiac.

but then he pulled away from you, cupping your face in his hands, staring directly into your soul before moving his gaze to your lips, licking his own.

his mind was telling "that's not her", but how could he get it when she looks exactly like you? right in front of him once again. it's like... you've never been gone. he had you one more time, he couldn't let you go again...

"mark..." you whispered and he closed his eyes. having you calling his name again had his head spinning. you can't do it to me... please don't... "i'm not her... i don't wanna hurt you or... having you thinking i can replace her..." no one can ever replace her. "but..."

"would you... let me kiss you?" he wasn't thinking straight. she couldn't do it to him. to your memory, but... how could she deny it when he was asking so eagerly? so... passionate. so... needed.

"would it make you feel any better?" you ask, somehow feeling guilty.

"much better..." he mumbled, getting closer.

when your lips touched, you could feel mark melting right away. his body was eager and you could tell it was the best moment ever since... his loss. one of his hands remained on your cheek, caressing lovingly, while the other flew to your waist.

it was wrong. he couldn't be doing it. she wasn't you. but how could he do the right thing? was there even wrong or right? his mind kept on telling him one thing, but his heart was so happy to have you back. it wouldn't hurt any more to have a little piece of you again. even if you could never return to his life...

[aemondloverr]

𝐓𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜

Pairing: Marc w/a little Steven+Jake X FemReader

Synopsis: Marc is your boyfriend of 3 years. You started slow the first year and he had lots of boundaries but he was trying. You know he’s been hurt before. However the second year, he started to pull away. Your relationship is getting weaker, and it seems like all he thinks about is Layla, his ex wife.

Contents: Angst, arguing, slightly drunk!Reader, jealous reader.

Wc: 2.1k ish

Proof read? Y’all know me. Hell naww (if there’s mistakes I’m sorry😔)

AN: Ngl, some of the lines Lowkey sound cringe to me but this is my first time writing angst so…😭

Every other night, Marc said her name in his sleep. “Layla..” he’d mumble.

You knew of his sleeping issues, his nightmares, his past with her. He still missed her and you couldn't bear the thought that he missed her more than he loved you.

As your relationship went on, it seemed like he was…less there, distant;Emotionally, mentally, and physically. Spacing out for long periods of time, not paying attention to what you're saying, or just tuning you out and ignoring you. He argued with you more frequently, not even over reasonable things. He’d say he was going out for work stuff and you knew, you had a gut feeling that he was lying to you. Tonight was no different.

*****

It was around 5 pm and it was already starting to get dark so you figured it was a good idea to get started on dinner. Just as you walked into the kitchen from the couch, Marc came out of your shared bedroom, dressed with a coat and hat on. It seemed like he was rushing, eager to leave the house.

Marc slipped on his boots and grabbed a small bag but as he unlocked the door, you turned around and interrupted him.

“Where are you going…?”

“Out. I have stuff to take care of.” His voice was barely audible but you could tell his tone was dismissive

“Please just be back before 8…okay? I wanna have dinner with you” for once, you added in your head

He looks at you but doesn’t say anything and steps out the door, slamming it shut. Taking a deep breath you get started on cooking, washing the vegetables to make his favorite vegan dish.

Steven and Jake on the other hand argue with Marc in the reflection of the glass in the window.

“You really need to listen to her…You don't want this to turn out how it did with-” Marc cuts him off abruptly.

“We don't talk about her. You know that.”

“But Steven is right and you know it marc…” Jake states

“Forget it mate…”

*****

5pm quickly became 7 and dinner was almost done. By 7:30, you were in the bedroom, changing into a dress you knew was Marc's favorite. It was form fitting and flattering to both your figure and complexion. You did your eye make up and a pretty lip combo and went to plate the food, setting out a bottle of wine with glasses on the table.

Half an hour later, it's 8 and he's still not here. Maybe it'll be different this time… you thought. But you waited there, sitting pretty in your long dress drinking wine and eating dinner. Alone. His food is getting cold.

10 pm. Still not here. You’re almost halfway through the bottle. At first you thought your relationship was perfect. How could you be so wrong? Why was he never there? Did he even love you anymore? Your mind starts to spiral as you become slightly intoxicated. Your overthinking always worried you.

You sat in the dark of the room, one leg crossed over the other, ruined mascara mixed with tears dried on your face. You didn’t even bother to pour wine into the glass anymore and just drank straight from the bottle. Every time you took a sip, the wine dripped down your chin and neck and stained your pretty dress. You read the clock. 12 am. Tears begin to pool your eyes again, but just then, The door unlocks. Marc opens the door to your shared apartment. Or Steven. Or jake. One of the three. He hoped that you were sleeping. When he saw that the room was seemingly dark and empty, he let out a breath of relief at the silence.

You interrupt the silence with your strained, shaky voice. “You’re late” you take another sip from the bottle slouched in a soft armchair. You knew it was Marc by the way he stayed silent. His breath hitched, slightly frightened by your sudden words and he quickly closed the door behind him.

“I know. I had to take care of something…” he mutters

“It’s 12 in the morning, Marc.” you reply sternly

Marcs mouth started to form an argument, but he snapped it shut. He took a deep breath, calming himself.

“I know…I'm sorry” he said inconsiderately

It took him a few seconds to notice the bottle of wine in your hand as his eyes adjusted to the dark.

“Have you been drinking…?”

You make a snarky remark “No shit. And you’re not fucking sorry. I told you to be home before 8. What the fuck Marc??” You took another large sip from the bottle.

Marc's jaw clenched as he sighed.

“I already said I'm sorry, what more do you want?!” he raised his tone at you.

He took the bottle from your hand and set it down on the table, looking down at you and your bloodshot eyes.

“Give it back” you reach for the bottle but he moves it away.

“You need to stop drinking-”

You cut him off with your words “What is wrong with you. You’re never here anymore. Ever.” You get up and snatch it from him.

Marc couldn't help but bristle at your words. You were always so stubborn. But it's because you loved him. You just wanted him to love you the same way he did before. He tried to hold in anger he felt building.

“Can we talk about this later? You're drunk”

“No, we're talking about it now. I can’t do this anymore Marc”

Marc rolled his eyes, thinking about how many times you’d said this before. He thought about the other times you were this close to actually breaking up with him…only for your words to turn into empty threats. He didn't want to get into a pointless argument this late at night.

“You’re being unreasonable and you're not in your right mind-” he raised his voice even louder than before

“I am not being unreasonable. Don’t you dare…”

Marc was fuming at this point. He took a step towards you until he was inches away from your face, smelling the wine on your breath. He wanted to scream and lash out at you, but he didn’t want to show you had an effect of him. After you showed him what real, unburdening, true, love looks like and he got scared. He got scared and pulled away. He gave you a cold shoulder that you didn't deserve.

Steven tries to calm him down from the mirror across the room. “Don’t say anything you’re gonna regret mate…” He does the exact opposite.

“You're here because you can't be anywhere else. I do everything I can for this relationship, and it's never enough for you.”

Scoffing in disbelief at his lie, you yell back. “You don’t do shit for me! I say I love you and you can’t even say it back anymore. You do NOT get to say you care!”

Now that was a low blow.

You had your finger poking right at his chest. Steven winces at your comment in the reflection. “I mean it’s true innit…Tried to tell you didn’t I?…You’re on your own now Marc.”

“Yea…you really did it this time” Jake comments too.

You tear up in frustration and hurt. Everything you've been feeling for the past few weeks is surfacing. Marc's lips tighten at the mention of it and he takes a sip out of the bottle he took from you. He didn’t think he’d have to hear that again and he knew you were right but he wouldn’t admit.

“You know why I don’t say it…”

He felt guilty, taking a step away. He didnt wanna look down at you as you looked up at him with those drunken, tear-stained eyes.

“Why?? It's because you still love Layla right?!”

Now that was a different kind of low blow. His body tensed at the mention of her name.

“Don’t you dare say her name…You know it's not that simple!! You don’t get to just throw that in my face every chance you get-”

“Yes it is,” you say, your lip quivering. You wanted to cry even more “all you do is think of her. You say her name in your sleep Marc!” He shouldn’t have been so quick to admit it, but something about the way you were looking up at him, the pain in your eyes, and the fact you were still slightly drunk made him soft. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as he looked at you, knowing he was the cause of your hurt.

“It’s a simple question. Do you love me or not”

"Of course I love you…But that doesn't mean I'm not still heartbroken over Layla. I mean, she was my wife for Gods sake.”

“That doesn’t justify your shitty so-called ‘love’. I feel like I'm losing you…” Your tears turn black as they run through your mascara and down your face.

“I miss you...” You hesitantly grab his hands and hold them firmly in yours.

He thinks it's better to turn away and not get hurt by losing you than to be vulnerable, to take that risk again.

“It never used to be like this…before, you were there. What happened to us…?”

He pauses for a moment, tearing up. You look him in the eyes but he looks down at his feet. He wanted to prevaricate but that would only make things worse.

“I’m afraid of commitment, okay... I’m afraid to fall in love, that if I let myself feel that way again, things would end up the way they did when I was with layla”

“Why couldn't you just tell me that…? We could’ve handled it together”

“I.. thought that if I told you, you wouldn’t wanna be with me anymore. I was…”

He ran a hand through his hair, appearing stressed. He was being vulnerable with you and he wasn’t used to that…opening up to people, especially about Layla. He was really soft at heart and he’s not gonna let anyone catch him being soft…except you of course.

“I didn’t want to scare you away because I really do love you…I- It was stupid, but I promise…I promise I won’t push you away again, I’ll stop leaving, I’ll do anything…I love you”

He puts a hand on your cheek and brushes your messy hair off of your face. Tears swell in his eyes, bringing his forehead to yours. You dont reply and the two of you sit in silence for a few moments, savoring the feeling of being with him again;The way he holds you, just like way he used to before. But you can’t let it go that quickly.

“Just because you said a few words doesn't mean I can just forgive you like that…” You pull away from him and look away. “Sleep on the couch tonight please.” you walk away slowly without another word, taking his hand off of your cheek.

He doesn’t say anything more because he doesn’t want to argue, especially when you're half drunk and you both felt bad enough as it was

You go your separate ways to the couch and the bed. He stares out of the window at the moon, silently cursing Konshu in his mind, feeling the guilt of his absence. You curl up under the sheets in your wine-stained dress, no longer crying, but thinking about if he’s really going to change. Or will it just be an empty promise…

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed ittt. BTWW I’ve been SO obsessed with hotd so I definitely will be posting some Cregan fics😏🙏🏾 As always like and reblog to show supporttt

[mangosrar]

Always, i will be here.

chris sturniolo x reader

a/n: guys this one is lowkey-highkey sad but i love it so much:(

loosely based off always by Daniel Caesar!!!!

My y/n,

I wonder when i first met you, in a way that was more than just physical. I wonder when a line in a song reminded me of you, or the first time i walked past someone who carried a scent so similar to yours, that i questioned if you had just walked past me, or the first time someone made a joke so good i had to relay it to you later and pretended it was my own.

I always thought that heart break was caused by mean words said so harshly they pierce the soul. But in reality, they’re from goodbyes that weren’t told, kisses never shared and hugs never felt. These are the ingredients of a broken heart and they can never be fixed. Broken beyond repair.

The thing is even if you could go back, you wouldnt belong there anymore. I still perform autopsies on conversations we had lives ago. They could hook me up to a polygraph and ask me if i still love you, i would say no, and the line would jump and stutter in the exact pattern of your laugh. It feels better to die at your hands y/n, than to never have felt them at all. The heart has its own memory, and i have forgotern nothing, so dont set me on fire and act like you're the one burning.

I remember once you told me you killed a plant by feeding it too much water, and now you worry love is voilence and i know i always say you hold on to too much and every time you reply; asking me where you should put it down. This is starting to look like a contest of who cares less but i liked it better when you were on my side. Im afraid i will love you for the rest of my life and we will never be in the same room again, and im worried the amount of time we have left together is limited so please lingre near the door or forget your jacket and come back for it later. Please just tell me that im not as forgetable as your absence is making me feel. You only hate the people you love, and i know i could never be someone you dont like.

But surrounded by the churches and the dirt, i fell in love with you here. I had never told you. I wish i was braver. It's okay to not be who you thought you would be. But now summer is almost over, my feelings didnt change, and you aren't coming back. But always, i will be here y/n.

My Chris,

Christopher Owen Sturniolo, you have siezed my spine, took my bones and left me to melt into a sticky pile of mush where my body used to be.

I have spent half of my life loving you, and the other half figuring out my love for you. If i could write a book on all the things i wished you would have said, i would run out of pages. I feel like a kid at christmas whos been hopelessly dreaming about getting a pony,only to be given socks. I pushed you out and now youre so far away i cant even reach for you. I could call you a hundred names and scream and shout about why you were awful. But where would that leave me. I still loved you. I still have to live with that.

Its like youve taken a part of me and left it where i cant find it. I tried to forgive you, so i could move on, but how is that possible when i find you in every song, every tone, every frequency and every static. My brain cannot move an inch without bumping into some part of you. You are just a burning house that i want to live in, so why can't you let me put you out?

I wish you had left me wondering. I think it would have hurt much less if i never knew what made you fall out of love with me. You held me tight as i weeped like a little girl who had just dropped her ice cream, you kissed the top of my head and rocked us back and forth. You muffled my sobs with your lips. You whispered sweet nothings to me as i cried in your arms. You wiped the tears that fell for the heart you broke. You told me there will always be a piece of your heart that belongs to me. You have stained me. Tainted and bruised my soul. You told me that you’ve never had a love like ours and never will. You said that you’re future wife will know about me. Your kids will learn what love is through the stories you tell them about us. And suddenly, im at the kitchen table. Crying. Wondering what went wrong. But always, i will be here chris.

@christinarowie332 @jcwrites-blog @sturnphilia @biimpanicking @sssturniolofart @lividnity

LMK WHAT YALL THINK!!!!

[thatstonedwriter]

Never Again – Part 2

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N- I wasn't planning on writing for Crimson, but I'm willing to take a crack at his character. I hope I handle his character properly and sensitively. This is an exception and I will not write for Crimson again.

Contents; Crimson, violence, references to the mafia (as its presented in the show), mentions of severe injuries, blood, swearing, angst, fluff, polyam

Feat; Moxxie x Millie x Reader, Striker, Crimson

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Everything stops- there's no air. What did you do? Why aren't you moving? You're like this because you were making sure they didn't get hurt. Its their fault, they know they have to do.. Something, but..

Tears are welling up in Moxxie's eyes. Once again, he's been proven to not be strong enough. Millie is feral, chasing off whoever dared come near you. When she's finally calmed down enough, she rushes to your and Moxxie's side. Even when the emergency services arrive, Millie is so on edge that she barely lets them touch you. The ride to the hospital was tense, paramedics doing what they could to stop the bleeding, and even then, they were worried it wouldn't be enough. Over the course of your recovery, Moxxie and Millie never left your side. Some days, they would take turns staying with you, to ensure your safety, and to keep you company; which would include Moxxie playing music for you, and Millie laying next to you, holding your hand, and telling you about whatever shenanigans the I.M.P crew was up to. They just want to see you happy. It takes a while for them to process the guilt, however once you're back home, these two love birds shower you with more love than ever thought possible.

Striker has never felt so powerless before. And he never would've expected, in a million lifetimes, that someone would do what you've just done for him. It takes every ounce of self restraint for him not to run after the bastard who did this to you. You are his priority. As much as he wants to, he knows he can't treat your injuries- so he calls for help. At first, he doesn't visit you in the hospital. This has never happened before, he needs time to process what it all means. What you mean to him. When Striker finally musters the nerve to visit you (though he has to be sneaky), he makes sure to bring some foods he knows you like. He's never been good at affection or talking about his feelings, so for now, he hopes this can be enough. Once you're discharged, he offers for you to stay at his place. Should you accept, he'll be sure to do his best to show you how much this all meant to him. Striker never wants to risk you getting hurt again.

Crimson orders his goons to rush you to the nearest hospital. Once you're out of his sight, the shock wears off, and the severity of the situation hits him with full force. Because of his.. 'status,' he avoids following you, and instead sends various people to bring you food, and flowers. At first, he does it as a courtesy, but then he notices how empty everything feels without you around. He isn't used to this. Upon your discharge, you find several body guards and a car waiting for you. Lowkey sketch, but you know who gave the orders. Once you're back, Crimson keeps you by his side, threatening to kill anyone who dares to send a questioning glance at the two of you. He's not at all versed in caring for others, but he does his best to make sure every want and need is met. You'll never be hurt again. Not on his watch. And within the next couple weeks, there is a new mount on his wall..

[sminiac]

Congrats on 400 followers🎉🥳🥳. Could you do a scenario for Piwon and how they would break up with you/ their reaction to realizing that they don’t love you anymore?

💌 — Thank you sm sweets! <3 I loooove writing angst even though I don’t get reqs for it, BUT YES. Was lowkey excited to pull up my feels playlist for this :b

⋆ Y. Keeho

So, so quiet, and diluted. He’s very naive when it comes to loving someone so in the first flicker of insecurity he’s immediately calling it quits in fear of dragging something out that’ll possibly never lead to anything deeper, or getting too attached to a point where it’s unnecessarily difficult and painful.

Curls in on himself more and more in the days leading up to him finally talking to you and when he does it, it’s not the most surprising thing. Hearing him abruptly cut off from his words and backing away from his train of thought because the tears find home in his throat so easily. Seeing him like this is rare, you’re so used to the talking being passed off to one another so seamlessly but he just continues struggling through his sentences no matter how many deep breaths and attempts to compose himself he takes. He really tries to communicate with you, lay everything out, plain and simple, but unfortunately he just can’t, his emotions get the best of him which both you and him know is completely unlike him.

He’s able to explain everything to you at a later date, which is just salt in a fresh wound, but he knows he can’t go on living like nothing that serious happened, especially after leaving you in the dark. Asks if you can meet up for coffee or call or something, is willing to write a handwritten letter if that’s what it takes to get you to hear him out. His reasonings for seeing you again are partly in best interest of himself, but he likes to think it gives you some sense of closure too, or at least a solid placement on your feelings towards him. The conversation goes quite smoothly compared to his first attempt, he even finds himself comparing the two of you now to when you first got together, it’s bittersweet, but he still cares for you so he doesn’t force it away. Holds your hand over the table while reminiscing, sharing old funny stories before parting ways.

Remainder of members under the cut!

⋆ C. Taeyang

Doesn’t realize nor feel the gravity of the circumstances that follow his decision to leave you. In fact, in the beginning he plays with the idea as it sparks to life, figures that the cons probably far outweigh the pros anyways, so why is he really playing along with you? Hes just so busy and caught up in the limelight that he realistically can’t even begin to remember all the details, the good points in your relationship, he’s far too fast to make a concrete resolution for his own absentmindedness, and inevitably it comes back to bite him in the ass.

Very straightforward, although there’s a tenderness to his disposition the more he lets the words flow. The more he talks the more he realizes how absurd this all sounds, and he’s quick to point out any of his faults and ignorance right in front of you. The conversation does nothing but solidify his point, but it also helps him understand just how gracious you are to him, how you’ve always been, and that keeps him on track because he knows that if you were to stay that you wouldn’t be able to find that growth if your own. Sets you free in a way, even if that sounds cringy and silly, he just doesn’t want to keep you to himself- nailed to the ground when you have so much ahead of you in your life, and the life of an idol wasn’t always so easy or kind to exclusivity.

Towards the end he recalls all of the milestones he’s hit with you by his side, behind the camera, always his number 1, reminds you that if you weren’t here he probably wouldn’t have made it this far. He literally counts his blessings whilst calling himself an idiot for not realizing it sooner.

⋆ C. Jiung

The type of ex you can be friends with and be completely platonic with after breaking up let me just say, even if there’s lingering feelings he’s never acting on it or allowing you to either. He’s very quick and precise, as soon as he’s sure, even confident in telling you he’s just not quite in love with you like that anymore then he’s calling you up, telling you to come over. Jiung’s just a very comforting and easy going individual, there’s obviously going to be a palpable sense of sadness in the air but he tries to keep things light instead of saying things to further fuel the tears- it’s kind of silly though, because no matter what he’d unintentionally do just that.

Comes right out and tells you, very straightforward at first,, almost a little too blunt, but he treats the wound with a gentle dressing, reminds you that he does love you, that it’s been there for days and days, that he’s walked with it, ate with it, sang with it, that his love for you won’t just disappear in the matter of seconds because of a change of labels.

Tells you that he understands if distance is what you want, that he won’t overstep or prod if that’s not what you’re comfortable with, so dedicated that he’d make sure any mutual friends don’t speak of him to you if the topic is much too sore to touch on. But! If your boundaries don’t come with a secure extent then he’ll merely act as a friend, not one you’d go to for every rant or life experience, but one that’s there whenever you need him to be. He’d still reach out to congratulate you on every achievement, milestone, every significant date too with a fitting paragraph in thorough detail about whatever it is he’s messaging you abou :,)

⋆ H. Intak

Terribly bitter. Becomes so self deprecating and the jabs at himself are sharp, like- would actually make himself miserable about losing feelings for you. Tries to ignore it, initially he doesn’t even want to acknowledge it, but the longer he lets it sit and fester the more it mercilessly eats away at him. Takes the time to sit and talk with Keeho, sorting his thoughts and tackling the much tougher questions he couldn’t bring himself to face alone, I think he wouldn’t come to the conclusion of breaking up with you himself, it would definitely have to come from someone. The situation doesn’t feel that weighty, or lucid until someone like Keeho is telling him that it’s the only option he has.

“I’m sorry” is said quite a lot when he has the time alone with you, his eyes already bloodshot around the edges and his lips swollen. The time passes by fairly quick in retrospect, but in the moment it feels like it just drags and drags.

Intak genuinely can’t bring himself to touch you or get so close to because he knows that’s when the tears will start again and there will absolutely be no consoling him to get them to stop. Maybe you’ll think of him as being one for dramatics, but he’s just such a lover that it’s crushing to even reach this point that he’s absolutely torn on your behalf. Only makes contact with you for the last time when you’re saying your last goodbyes, your personal belongings back in your care and his shoved into a corner in his room because he physically can’t take them out and sort through it. The hug only lasts for so long before he’s letting you go, choking out a goodbye with a forced smile. He just hopes you can’t see the tears building against his lower lid.

⋆ H. Shota

Soul knows you probably wouldn’t understand, but he tries to wait it out, the feeling of doubt every time he questions himself about loving you. He realized as the days past he grew more and more uncaring about what you were doing, who you were with, he found himself eager to end calls and to be left alone, purposely ignoring any questions his members had about how you were, when they’d see you again.

As soon as he stopped questioning why you didn’t text him or call, how he wasn’t repulsed by the thought of you loving someone else the way you love him, that it was time he broke things off. He deals with his emotions quite simply, chronologically, uses his brain more than his heart because then things are strategical and easy, but things weren’t quite as painless as he expected when finally confessing to you that he wanted to break up.

He knows the tears will come, the resentment, he hates the thought of you ever thinking about him with only a sour taste in your mouth and a shell of his current self kept frozen in your memory, he wants you to know the future him, the bad and the good, but it’s an incredibly selfish thing to ask of you, to stay even if he no longer loves you romantically, it leads to his emotions doubling in size, making his own tears unceasing as he holds you, scared that once he lets go you’ll disappear forever, completely. He goes through with it of course, despite his fears and insurmountable worry, he knows better than to ask you to stay.

⋆ K. Jongseob

Seob Is fairly well acquainted with the ‘you’re so mature for your age’ approach when being complimented on his sterling dedication and drive that keeps him moving forward in the music industry, because, well duh? But the good aspect of knowing how he handles early adulthood gets a little too into his head, therefore he lacks the emotional intelligence to navigate through his feelings when it comes to a point where he’s questioning himself and your relationship because he just doesn’t have the time at his disposal to face it.

He tries to work on himself at first, his doubt, the lack of security you have in place of his side— like a sample track he’s not confident or content with, he tries and tries to make it better, and that’s inevitably the downfall of his efforts, it’s the fact he has to try to keep loving you to begin with.

He’d like to think that he redeems himself by being an open book with you when he sits you down, pouring out all of his bottled thoughts and feeling, but the crushing truth does nothing but keep your aversion to his lack of self understanding stagnant. He’s soft when telling you that the two of you should break up, gentle, because he can’t bring himself to fathom the betrayal you probably feel now knowing how he’s felt under the layers of his forced affection and uninterested feelings.

[dr3amlab]

5. wicked games, dm.

SUMMARY — Y/N Gorgon and Draco Malfoy have a long history of mutual hatred. You see, the two of them have been pulling pranks on each other since their 1st year at Hogwarts, to the dismay of their close friends and supervisors. However, after a prank left Y/N completely out of her mind, she decides that she'll pull her cruelest prank yet on Draco by pretending to be his secret admirer.

PAIRING — Draco Malfoy x reader

GENRE — series, enemies to lovers, rival, comedy (?)

WORD COUNT — 1894 words.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — sorry for the wait, uni is killing my ass 😭 I CAN'T FIGURE OUT TUMBLR FOR MY LIFE IM SORRY GUYS

PARTS. 1 2 3 4 5 6 finale

TAGLIST — @hopefulfuturenovelauthor​ @charlenasaxen​ @johnmurphys-sass​  @alittlebitofinsanitea​ @islayedyourmom @dramatic-long-coats @slashermadness @marplest @whosyourgnomie4 @makhaia @louieblue2 @born2222die @nikki-89 @jamlessgucciswegsunshineot7

V. WHO'S LAUGHING NOW?

Quiet. Everything was oddly quiet. Nothing or no one was bothering you, and everything seemed to go your way for the past week. Peaceful and quiet. Just how you like it. You knew you should be enjoying these peaceful moments as long as they lasted, but why do you feel so unfulfilled?

It was saturday and most of the students, including Athena, were enjoying their afternoon in Hogsmeade. with company of their friends. As for you, you decided to stay in your dorm for, even if Athena begged you relentlessly, you didn’t really feel like going out as last week’s events drained you mentally. But, no panick! You were not completely alone : Boredom and the heavy feeling of emptiness were so nice that they decided to grace you with their presence. 

To anyone who would set eyes on you right now, you looked like you carried the entire world’s burdens on your shoulders : you were sitting lazily on one of the couches of the common room, arm resting on the couch and your cheek resting on your hand all while looking at the floor with empty eyes.

Though, who could blame you? You were bored out of your mind : for the past weeks, sending anonymous letters to Draco Malfoy was your only source of entertainment and now that you had to stop, for your own sake, you felt like time refused to pass by.

In the best of worlds, you would still be having the time of your life by taunting Draco and you wouldn’t be having romantic feelings for anyone. 

However, this was not the case. Without you even realizing, you were beaten at your own game. You fell for draco during the process of writing him letters and you fell hard. 

Still, something was tormenting your mind : Why was Draco being so lowkey? It’s been a week since you had stopped giving him the letters and he didn’t do anything. You thought that it was weird ; His secret admirer bid him farewell and he didn’t even react. If this ever happened to you, you would travel the world and the seven seas to find them but Draco didn’t manifest any interest in looking for them. Zero interest. Nada. 

His strangely discreet demeanor was confusing you : Was he mourning the loss of his secret admirer? Did your prank scar his heart? Or, did he somehow find out that you wrote the later? If so how did he find out ? What has he been up to? Those questions kept repeating over and over again in your mind and, honestly, you felt like you were about to go insane. You were almost about to tear your hair out of your scalp. Literally.

Something was going to happen, you felt it. And it was not a good omen. Something was about to happen and it was not going to be to your advantage. In a way, the ball was in Draco’s court. You have no control of his next move and that was making you sick. But did Draco even receive the said ball?  Did he even get the ball you passed to him? Did he even know about the ba— "Snap out of it, Y/N!" you mumbled to yourself.

You’re looked away from the ground to take conscience of your current state : You were biting your nails while slightly shaking your leg. In other words, you looked like a complete maniac.

"Y/N." A hand softly touched your right shoulder and you snapped your head towards the said direction, "Are you okay? Is something bothering you?" You let out a sigh of relief when you saw Fides, your fellow Slytherin. "Oh—hey Fides!" you exclaimed,  "you scared me!" you said as you put your hand on your heart to feel your racing heartbeat. Fides’ lips curled into an apologetic smile, "my bad, I didn’t mean to!" She sat next to you, "are you okay? you don’t look so good."

For a moment, your mind wandered to Draco and the worries he drowned your mind with. You slightly opened your mouth ready to tell her what was really bothering you without omitting any detail but after a second of reflexion, you gave her a closed lip smile, "no, Fides, nothing is bothering me," you said softly, "thank you for your concern." Fides smiled at you, "If you ever need to talk to someone, I'm here," she beamed. You squeezed her hand, "thank you." 

"So, what's the latest news?" You asked to change the subject. Fides was always aware of every single thing that was going around in Hogwarts. She knew everyone's business from the teachers to the first years. Fides probably even knows your family's deepest darkest secrets and you'll never know how she had found out. It was pretty entertaining to hear her gossip unless she knew your secrets.

Fides' face lit up as soon as the question left your lips. It seemed as if she had been waiting impatiently for you to ask her, "okay, so you'll never guess this. I promise you'll have the time of your life with this information!" Fides got comfortable on the couch, "There has been rumors than Draco was receiving letters from a secret admirer right. I'm talking about actual love letters," she began explaining, "it has been going on for like⏤ I don't know, months and he never found out their identity," fides said, "shit, I've been trying to find out who the hell they were and I didn't even find out." 

Discreetly, you let out a sigh of relief, if Fides ever finds out first that you were the 'secret admirer', you were done for.  First of all, the entire universe would be aware that you wrote letters to draco. And, even though Fides was a nice girl, she had tendencies to run her mouth ; She would not hesitate twice to spread rumors about anyone, even her closest friends. 

 "Oh. My. Merlin! Draco has a secret admirer? please tell me it's a joke!" You pretended to be shocked, "Girl, even I was flabbergasted! like⏤ Who in their right mind would genuinely like Malfoy?" Fides laughed, "pff! yeah, right⎯ for real." You let out a forced laugh, "so what happens next?" you stopped laughing immediately and coughed. 

"You're going to need to brace yourself for this part." She came closer to you, "Apparently, Draco found out who it is and is about to confront them soon," she whispered, " I heard he got the info from a first year. Somebody saw Draco extorting the information out of the poor boy," she pursed her lips, "this is exclusive news, you're the first one to know this." Your heart dropped and your mouth hung slightly open, "I know right! I had the same reaction!" she slapped your shoulder, "I wonder who it is ! do you think they'll end up together? »

Draco had found out. Draco had found out and knowing him, he probably found a way to bring the gossip to Fides’ ears for he knew damn well that she would tell you and therefore, inform you that he knew. One thing is for sure, Malfoy's revenge was going to be violent and you only have to shelter yourself from the storm that was coming. 

You were probably thinking so much about him that you manifested his presence accidentally : you felt like you've summoned a demon for, suddenly, you saw his dark silhouette come through the door of the common room and his eyes immediately found yours as if the first thing he had planned to do when he would step foot into the common room was to find your eyes. 

Draco didn't walk further into the room. Instead, he stood tall not so far from the door with both of his hands in the pockets of his black pants. Malfoy did not break eye contact with you as he slightly tilted his head to the right while giving you a smirk.

As you maintained eye contact with him, you felt like your entire world was burning, but you didn't seem to mind because you were only thinking about one thing : did you always notice how handsome Draco is?

Draco saw how your face decomposed at the sight of him. He saw how you didn't even care about any of the nonsense that was probably coming out of Fides' mouth and how your focus was solely on him.

Draco's smirk only grew bigger when he saw you get up off the couch and he almost laughed out loud at the sight of Fides' confused face. Malfoy stood on his ground with his head held high as he watched you lope towards him with a rather angry expression on your face.

'How cute,' he found himself thinking as he stared at your face. You were probably as angry as ever, but how did you manage to still look so cute. Did Draco always notice how cute you were? Perhaps he always did or perhaps he never did but that's something he'll sort out later for right now, he needed to be focused on taunting you.

"So, you found out." You crossed your arms. "Yeah, I did." Draco mimicked your body language, "I honestly didn't know that you would stoop this low Y/N, really. Playing with one's feelings? Even I didn't think about pranking you like that," he fake pouted, "Oh come on Draco," you scoffed, "you're talking about morals? Don't act like for the past six years, you didn't do something equally as bad," you retorted, "You're just mad that you didn't come up with this idea before me. Admit it." Draco shrugged his shoulders while displaying a stupid smirk on his face, "Maybe I am," he said nonchalantly.

"What now? Are you going to get back at me or did I win the game?" you asked, "I'm not going to get back you Y/N, don't be silly," he said as if it was the most obvious fact in the world, "I gotta admit that you won," he started, "but at what cost?" Draco bended slightly so his face would be closer to yours which startled you and made you take a step back, "what do you mean?" you asked again confusedly. 

Draco smirked, "you fell in love with me Y/N," he said in a singsong "Why would I get back at you? isn't that enough torment for you?" he asked, "Me? In love with you? Plea⏤" Before you could even finish your sentence, Draco cut you off, "Y/N, I know that you smelt my scent in that potion," he laughed, "Books, expensive cologne, green apples?" he emphasized on the last words, "That's what you smelt and, oh⏤ What a coincidence! that's also what you wrote in that letter." You frowned your eyebrows, "Do you seriously believe in that stupid shit Draco? What are you, five years old?" Draco quirked an eyebrow, "Are you implying that Slughorn is a conman and amortentia is bullshit? Or, wait⎯ that magic doesn't exist?" Draco's face came even closer to yours.

"Darling, you fell in love with me. You can't deny it," he said slowly in a suave voice, "so, who's the real loser now?" he whispered to your ear. Your eyes widened, you tried to say something or anything to deny his statement but you couldn't because it was true : you are utterly and irrevocably in love with Malfoy.

Draco adjusted his posture so he could look at your face clearly. A victorious smile graced his lips as he watched you open and close your mouth to talk but words wouldn't come out your mouth. Without saying any other word, Draco left to go to his dorm and he left you freezed like a statue.

Draco should be celebrating his victory: you didn't deny any of your feelings for him, so that makes him the true winner, right? Though, Malfoy felt a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach and he felt completely confused. Why was the scent of vanilla, violet and strawberry cake lingering in his nose? 

It took a long time to Malfoy, but he finally put two and two together. Vanilla, violet and strawberry cake: that was the same fragrance he smelt in the envelopes, the amortentia and on you when he came close to your neck as he whispered to your ear. Draco stopped dead in his tracks and his eyes widened as he realized what it meant, "Fuck, I'm in love with her."

It's funny isn't it? Malfoy was too engrossed on taunting you for having feelings for him that he didn't realize that he reciprocated your feelings.

So, who was the real loser?