#I LOVE how I read the fic and from time to time I go

[bippiti]

CAUSE I'M A PUNK ROCKER - c. kent

synopsis you moved to smallville because you had to save your family's farm. it was a place you never wanted to stay but also one you couldn't escape. then you met him: quiet, steady, and the one person who saw through your walls. slowly, without warning he became the part of you you didn't even know you were missing

a.n my longest fic to date. there will be a part 2 cause i didn't wanna make it too long. this part spans reader and clark relationship from childhood to late teens (ends with them just starting uni), reader will be a punk rock musician in the next part. also wrote the song lyrics myself so sorry if they're cringe lol not betaread

wc 10.2k (ik it's long but give it a chance!)

heads up slow burn, porn with plot, bestfriend clark, no use of y/n, reader is female, they get into a fight but they get over it, lana lang and peter ross are mentioned but their personalities are completely my own creation. clark is a munch, mutual loss of virginity, fingering, p in v, unprotected (wrap it b4 you tap it), mentions of car crashes, reader and clark are a audhd duo

You loved Blüdhaven. It was where you were born, where you’d been raised. The only time you ever spent outside of it was when you were visiting your grandparents in the summer. There was never much to do, but making friends with the cows and watching your grandma knit were admittedly things you liked doing. In moderation of course, 3 weeks out of the year in slow living was all you could handle. 

Blüdhaven had loads to do, there were always events going on, concerts happening, new exhibits at the museum. Your class field trips were anything but boring, and you loved going on little adventures or “side quests” as you liked to call them with your friends. On the last day of school, you even got to have a water balloon fight after field day. You had walked home soaking wet but happy, smiling from ear to ear. 

That smile quickly dropped when you saw the look on your parents' faces. Your mom had ushered you into the shower, bringing you neatly folded clothes and resting them on the countertop before telling you to come back to the living room once you were done. 

As the steam curled around the patterned tiles, your thoughts ran wild with what they had to tell you. 

Had they found out you had helped Amelia cheat during the math exam in April? Had your teachers told them you had accidentally dropped the paint in art class a few weeks ago? They had said you weren’t in any trouble though, that couldn’t be it.

You pondered like this for a few more minutes before your heart sunk into your stomach.

Your library book

It sat under your bed, mockingly collecting dust. It was 4 weeks overdue yesterday. You had been meaning to give it back, but you had accidentally tore the spine away from the pages after reading a particularly angering scene. Great. You were really in for it now. 

Before you could think too much about what exactly your punishment would be, your mothers yelling pulled you out of your trance. Twisting the knob, the water came to a halt as you dried yourself off before changing into the clothes your mom had picked out. The pajamas were soft, but offered little comfort to your now terrified mind.

Carefully padding down the stairs, you sat in the chair across from the sofa, looking at the floor dejectedly before opening your mouth to apolgize. Your parents speak before you can.

“Sweetheart, we have some important news to tell you”

Your shoulders immediately relax, realizing that this isn’t going to be a lecture. But something about your dads tone has you nervous. What could be so important that they had to sit you down?

Pausing for a beat, he continues.

“So you know how we were planning on not going to the farm this summer? We were gonna have you go to that summer camp with your friends instead”

You nodded as he began again

“Well, Grandma and Grandpa have been having a hard time taking care of everything on the farm, you know they’re getting older. It’s hard to keep up with all the animals and crops when you’re our age let alone theirs”  He moves forward slightly, linking his fingers together. “Grandpa had a scare yesterday, he almost fell while getting off the baler. He called us asking if we could come stay there with them.” He stops speaking for a moment. 

You’re confused, and pretty upset. You go to the farm every summer, this is the only time in your 9 years of living that you’ve ever asked to stay back. Your best friends were going to Camp Ivy, you had asked months before and now you were going to have to go to that stupid farm again while all of them had fun. Without you.

Great, just great.

Digging your nails into your palm, you stiffen a little as your mother continues where he left off.

“We said yes, but we aren’t just going to be staying for the summer, we’re moving there permanently”

Your heart stops for a moment. You’re genuinely at a loss for words. Your mother reaches out her hand, to comfort you, you think. But you quickly move back, the tears you were holding back move freely as you get up and run into your room. You let your body hit the bed, crawling under the covers as you put your pillow over your head to muffle your crying. 

Your life is officially over. All of your friends, your teachers, everyone you know was going to forget about you while you’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, Kansas.  Great. Just great. You wake up the next day and on your way to the bathroom catch sight of the outfit you had worn yesterday, you had been so happy when you had gotten home and now you were just like the shirt. Crumpled up, dirty, and in desperate need of a wash.

Your parents had given you space, but within the next few days you had already begun to pack. Your whole life soon was boxed away and put into a truck as you got in the car. It would take 2 days to get to Smallville.

In all honesty it doesn’t fully even set in that you're moving, your mind warps it into being just another summer trip. But for some reason, the minute your head hits the hotel pillows in Indianapolis it really hits you.

In all honesty, you should’ve seen it coming. For a while now they had been talking about moving (they didn’t know that you’d heard them of course, it was always after bedtime). Also Grandma and Grandpa needed help, they were strong but even you couldn’t do all that work on your own. Even though you were upset you were leaving everything you knew behind, you would rather do that than make your parents stay unhappy and your grandparents stay overwhelmed. Sighing, you let yourself sink further into the pillow, closing your eyes as you drift off to sleep.

The next day is spent the same. Staring off out the window. You had tried to read, but your motion sickness forbade it, feeling nauseous before you could even turn a page. As you watched the sky darken and rain begin to come down, you let yourself day dream about what you would be like if you were a character in the book. Maybe even the main character. It was fun, and as you got lost in the scenario the sun slowly moved further west, gently hiding as it fell past the horizon. 

It’s late when you reach the farm, your eyes open after what feels like hours as you stretch softly. Your mom opens the backseat door, and you get out. The air is refreshing, warmer than you remember it being, but comforting nontheless. Your grandparents are already asleep as you quietly open the door. Your things would arrive tomorrow, the movers had said they’d arrive sometime between 8am and noon.  

The house, like the farm it resided on, was massive, to you at least. Out of the 5 bedrooms of the house, you had your own special one, decorated mostly with things your grandma had crotched or knitted. 

You let your backpack hit the floor as you took a shower to get the long car ride off your body. After changing you stayed up to finish the last few chapters of your book. 

-

The next few weeks weren’t like anything you had expected, The fomo of not going to summer camp and the harsh reality that you wouldn’t be going back to Blüdhaven really set in, and you struggled to do much more than lounge around on the couch all day. Even the animals could feel the resentment you had. The last time you tried hanging out with the cows, they had basically run off. 

You spent most of the day either watching old black and white films with grandpa, watching grandma knit, or reading. You had been evicted out of your room after you had been “in there too much” according to mom. 

Now you would read sitting in the cornfields. At first it was kinda scary because they were tall and when they moved it almost sounded like someone was behind you, but you got used to it. May was ending and you were feeling more miserable than ever, so it didn’t really come as a surprise to you that your parents were sitting you down in the kitchen later that morning. 

You were having a staring contest with the gingham tablecloth as your parents went on and on about how they were “concerned for you” and how you “needed to make more friends” honestly, did they expect you to just forget about all the ones back home? Making new friends now would be accepting the fact that they weren’t going to be your friends anymore. The thought of that made your eyes sting and before you could even think about it you abruptly stood up, tearing your eyes away from the cloth as your palms made an echoing thwack sound as they hit the table. 

Before your parents could open their mouths, you turned around and ran, the door shut loudly as you ran. You winced, you hadn’t meant to be so rude but you couldn’t help it. You had obsiously been upset, they hadn’t even thought about what it would mean, making new friends. The tears flowed freely down your cheeks as your arms pushed against the neverending cornstalk. You didn’t know where you were planning on going, but you knew for a fact you couldn’t stay on the farm. They’d come looking for you, and the last thing you wanted was your parents to look at you with the eyes they’ve been giving you recently. Always a little sad. You hadn’t been able to put your finger on it for a while but you had finally realized what it was, pity.

The gentle breeze and the moving of the plants hid your quiet sniffles. You continued to walk for what felt like hours. Once you hit the fence that marked where your farm ended, you made your way to the side of the road as you continued walking. The sun was fully out now, it was probably mid afternoon. You were starting to get thirsty, but your pride wasn’t going to let you turn back now, you were in too deep. 

Just as your feet started to ache a little bit more, you began to make out what looked like a farmhouse. You continued walking just off the road, and as you got closer you came face to face with a mailbox. Leaning your head to the left you noted in bold white letters, KENT was written on the side. You contemplated for a moment what you should do. You hadn’t spoken to anyone but your family for nearly a month so you weren’t sure if you would sound stupid or not, but the dryness in your throat quickly made the decision for you. 

Oh well, even if the Kents were your grandparents' age, maybe you could befriend them. That would shut your parents up. Could you be friends with people your grandparents age though? Before you could deliberate any further you had reached the porch. You stopped, looking side to side for someone outside. After seeing nobody you exhaled, straightening your back and looking at your parents eye level. Most adults are that height and that way they wont have tio stare at your head when you open the door, the long hike you took here probably messed up your hair, and that wouldn’t make for a good first impression. You knocked on the door. Once. Twice.

The door slowly creaked open and you were confused when you didnt see someone looking down at you, as you let your eyes fall back to normal your breath got caught in your throat. Looking back at you wasn’t someone your grandparents age, not even your parents. He loooked as old as you, maybe older cause he was a little bigger than you. And his eyes were bluer than you thought was possible. Bluer than clear skies, the oceans you had seen, even your markers. 

You both stared at each other for a moment before he opened his mouth. 

“Hi, can I help you?”

Around 50 thoughts ran through your mind, all slamming into each other and making you stare at him blankly for a second or two.

“Um hi I took a walk, a really long one, longer than I meant to at least-” before you let yourself ramble and make yourself look even stupider than you already have, you shake your head before speaking again, more coherently this time. “Could I get some water? I think i’m dehydrated”

He smiles at you, cheeks caving into dimples as he pushes the door open. “Of course! I’ll have Ma get you some, she’s making some rhubarb pie, if you stay long enough you can have some too!”

You’re pretty shocked at the instant kindness and welcome in your random arrival, but you feel yourself smiling, truly smiling, for the first time in weeks. “I’ve never had Rhubarb pie before, but it sounds good”

He gapes at you for a minute, before beginning to ramble about how it’s the most perfect, amazing dessert to ever exist. You listen intently, following him further into the house after you take your shoes off. Clark, who tells you his name after he proclaims his love for rhubarb pie, brings you to the kitchen. 

A woman with wavy brown hair turns around, meeting your eyes with a smile as she shakes your hand gently. “Hi! I’m Martha, it’s nice to meet you! You’re (Grandpa and Grandma’s names)” grandbaby aren’t you?”

You nod, somewhat surprised that she already knows who you are. Whenever you visit you stick mostly to the farm, rarely going out more into town. Knowing your grandparents, they probably gushed about you to their neighbors so you shouldn’t be too shocked.

You sat down at the table, a glass of water in hand. Martha asked how long you were going to be staying, and Clark perked up when you said you’d moved here permanently. 

“Does that mean you’re going to go to Weisinger?” He asks

You nod, you’re pretty sure that’s the elementary you’d be attending. It is the only one in Smallville after all. Behind you, grabbing a pie tin Martha assks.

“What grade are you going into honey?” 

“Fifth grade” You smile at this, at least after this year you would get to be out of elementary. You were excited to go to middle school, it seemed more grown up. 

After hearing that, Clark says that he’s going into fifth grade too, and you smile wider. A friend. You had actually gotten a friend. 

As June began, so did the slump you had been in. You had been driven home later that day, with two tupperware, one full of pie, and another full of casserole. Martha had insisted. You waved goodbye to her and Clark as you sheepishly stepped inside. You heard quick shuffling, you steeled yourself, ready to get yelled at. 

The last thing you expected was to be wrapped in an enveloping hug. After a more concerned than angry lecture, you held out the tupperware for them and told them all about the very interesting day that you had.

You spent the rest of the summer having fun, mostly with Clark. You guys caught fireflies at night (you always let them go, it was fun watching them all come out at once), climbed and fell off of hay bales, started a book club made up of just you two, and tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to teach him the guitar. You introduced him to your favorite series, loaning him books that you would read together in the corn fields. By late August you even pinky swore. From that day on, you two were officially best friends.

-

Adjusting to Weisinger was hard at first, you weren’t used to such small classes. It didn’t help that everybody knew everybody, most of them since birth, but Clark made it easier. He introduced you to his friends, and soon enough you had a new little circle. The school year went by fast like it always did, and soon enough you were getting ready to go to Junior High. You didn’t feel as grown up as you thought you would, but it was exciting nonetheless.

That was until you got your schedule back. Unlike in Elementary school where you just had one teacher that taught you all the subjects, in middle school you had a different teacher for each one. When you compared your schedule to Clarks, your heart sank. You didn’t have any classes together, only lunch. Ever the optimist, he could sense your frustration. He reassured you. 

“We still have lunch together, don’t worry. Besides we have a promise don’t we? I’d never let myself drift away from my best friend” He smiles, and you feel your heart skip a beat. You shove him a little before bringing your hand up to his, pinkies interlocking as you smile. 

Clark, as usual, was right. Your classes were still full of people you knew, as moving here like you did was pretty rare. Most of them were boring, but some classes you always looked forward to. The two main ones were English and music.

Over the summer the ‘Book Club’ you had with Clark turned into a writing club, you had exhausted all the books both of your parents thought you were mature enough to read, and so after putting your heads together you decided to just write your own stories.

You both went about it differently. Where Clark was methodical, direct, almost documentative, you were more metaphorical, lyrical, introspective.

It was fun seeing how the other would have such different takes on prompts, and class gave you an oppurtunity to imporve your skills.

Music was also like that, but instead you got to play on an electric guitar. You had wanted one since you had first picked up an acoustic, but your mom insisted that playing on an acoustic would “sharpen your skills”. She was right, it had been what she had done when she learned how to play. Nothing could beat the adrenaline rush you got when playing an electric for the first time though. It felt like the notes itself were flowing through your veins. This was definitely something you could get used to.

Clark and you still hung out at least twice a week. Sometimes you did homework together, trying and failing to work on math. Two heads is better than one didn’t apply to you guys when it came to anything math related. Other times you wrote lyrics as he wrote up things for the daily announcements, it let him write about stuff the way he wanted. You guys were great.

You two had somehow gotten even closer, you were both rarely seen without  the other during breaks. In seventh grade you had three classes together, that was fun. And going into eighth, you only had one. Anything was better than nothing though, and you quickly settled into the new routine. 

It was orgnaized chaos, until yesterday at least. 

As you guys were biking home from school Clark told you about a crush he had one one of your classmates. Not just anyone though, he had a crush on Lana. Lana Lang. The perfect, beautiful, frustratingly nice Lara Lang. You almost crashed your bike when he told you, but luckily a rock you passed over hid it for you. Truly a blessing in disguise. You listened to him talk about her, offering input on how he should ask her out. He thought he didn’t have a chance, but you convinced him otherwise later. 

As you had predicted she had said yes to him, and they had a date planned for Sunday. It wasn’t anything too crazy, just getting ice cream and biking to the creek. He admitted he was nervous though, because he didn’t know if it was normal to kiss someone after a date. You didn’t really know either, it’s not like your parents talked to you about things like this, and you didn’t have an older sibling to ask, so you both tried to figure out what the social norms were. After deliberating for hours (20 minutes) you guys thought that before she went back to her house, he would kiss her if it felt right.

That followed another long discussion about what “feeling right” meant and how he would know. One of the things you and Clark had in common was not really understanding social situations at times. While he had to actively identify them and figure out how to react, you had a hard time reacting in what you knew was the “normal” way. It was nice having someone that you didn’t have to pretend all the time around, and you think he appreciated having someone besides his parents that he didn’t have to constantly overthink around. He could be honest with you, blunt even. 

That’s why it didn’t really shock you when he asked you a question the next day. You’re in your bedroom- him at your desk, writing; you at the foot of your bed, practicing chords. The question itself does surprise you, though.

“Do you think we could kiss? For practice at least, I don’t wanna kiss Lana badly. That would be a nightmare.”

You pause for a moment, accidentally playing a chord a little flat before you laugh. He looks back at you and you laugh, shaking your head. 

“Practicing sounds smart but are you sure? You’d be losing your first kiss to me instead of her.”

He contemplates for a moment before responding. “I don’t think I would, besides I'd be your first kiss too so it would balance out.”

It’s your turn to think now, and after a moment of deliberation you nod your head. What he said is logical, besides you don’t really mind losing your first kiss to Clark, you’ve known him for a long time and he’s one of the few people you fully trust. 

“How should we do it? Also do you mean like right now?” You put your guitar to the side, leaning to your right and cracking your back. 

He gets out of your chair and sits in front of you. It isn’t awkward per se, it never is with the two of you, but something is different. He looks at you differently than he normally does. You don’t know how to describe it, before you can contemplate longer he interrupts your thoughts. 

“If you dont mind, that is. You do know that you can tell me no, right?” He looks at you a little worried but that disappears when you smile.

“Yeah yeah, I know.” looking at him. Both of you sit still for a minute again before he grabs your hand, gently tugging you closer. You can feel your heartbeat thrumming. He tells you to not be nervous, and before you can quip out a retort, his lips are on yours. It’s an interesting feeling. He’s warm, like always and the hand that had pulled you closer is slowly bought up to your face. A second later your eyes are opening as you both simultaneously pull apart. “How was that? Was it bad?” He asks

You think about it for a moment, but after seeing him get more nervous you reassure him it was fine. You were just trying to figure out how to describe it. You’re careful to not sound overly enthusiastic, and for the first time since knowing him, you lie to Clark. Lie might be a stretch, it’s more of a half truth. I mean it’s not like you could tell him that you liked it, or that you wanted to do it again. Lana. Pretty, perfect Lana. You shove whatever confusing emotions youre feeling down as you and Clark go back to normal, he’s still sitting on the floor with you , but now he’s to your left, reading over your lyrics and helping you edit them while you keep playing chords trying to figure out what sounds right. 

You find yourself dreading Sunday. The usual excitement you have for the weekend is dampened when you remember how it’s going to end. You’re supposed to be happy for Clark, be the one cheering him on from the sidelines. So why is it that you’re struggling so much to do it? 

And so like you always do when you’re feeling things you don’t fully comprehend, you grab your journal. The leather is worn around the edges, and you pull the thin bookmark to the side as you begin to write. You write in pen, it doesn’t fade like pencil does, but it makes for a very annoying writing utensil when you seem to be writing all the wrong things. Three hours and much more pages later, you read over the lyrics you’ve scrubbled down. 

You said she makes you happy, so why can’t I breathe?

I smile like I mean it, but it cracks my teeth

I tell myself it’s nothing, just a shadow in my mind,

But when your eyes find hers the colors start to blind

You groan, getting angry but not having the heart to strike what you’ve written. You drop your journal at your desk and grab your backpack, you have algebra homework due.

You should’ve known Clark would come straight to yours after dropping her. Your parents just let him in now, the only thing that you need to hear to know he’s here is the special knock you both came up with last summer. You perk up, composing yourself and making sure you don’t look like you’ve been wallowing in self pity for the last few hours like you actually are. You open the door with a smile. Clarks eyes meet yours and you quickly usher him into your room, pulling out some snacks as you sit down. 

He tells you everything, what the bike ride to hers was like, all the mosquitos that bit him, what she was wearing when she came out. Red shirt and blue jeans with some grease on them from working on a car project with her dad. They had gone to get ice cream, he was still being assaulted by mosquitos. He got vanilla cone, she got bubblegum. They ate their ice cream then biked haphazardly to the creek, then sat and talked. You followed along, you were happy for him, and all seemed to have gone as smoothly as could be imagined. 

“Once the sun got closer to setting we biked back to hers and before she left she leaned in and hugged me. I think she pecked my cheek? I got really nervous and kinda forgot. I did smile at her at least, and hugged her back. But duh who wouldn’t hug someone back if they were- anyways yeah then she went inside, and I came here. 

The excitement you had for him earlier much to your dismay only increased when you heard how it ended.

You hugged him, told him he did a good job, and hung out for a few more minutes.

It was getting late, and you guys had school in the morning. You gave him your algebra homework before he left, telling him to follow the steps you did to get the right answer. You made sure to mention that your dad had looked over it to make sure you were right. The last thing you needed was to be wrong while trying to help other people. He thanked you and you walked him down, giving him another hug and waving as biked off.

You closed the door behind you, letting out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. As you turned around to go back upstairs the whole family stared at you from the living room, the movie on the tv being all but forgotten. Just illuminating their faces as they gave you a collective look that screamed ‘I know something you don’t’. After a second you went back to your room upstairs, catching a sliver of conversation as you did.

“When are they going to get together” “Oh hush ma, what if she hears you?”

“Oh please, I’m sure she already likes him”

Your heart quickens a bit as you make your way up. 

This is really bad, what are you going to do?

For the first summer since moving to Smallville, you and Clark don’t spend basically everyday together. Sure, you still hang out at least once a week, but the feelings you were trying to deny are just getting stronger and you don’t know what to do with them. You write more songs now, and for your birthday your parents finally got you an electric guitar. They complain about the noise if you play too late, but you know that they don’t mind, not really. You even build more on the lyrics you had written down a few months ago back when you really didn’t know what was going on. You glance over the page, playing the chords you had color coded with highlighters as you hum along. 

You talk about her like she hung the sky

And I'm nodding along just to get by

You laugh and I crack a little more

Staring at the shoes I wore to your front door

I’m the margin where your thoughts begin

The line you cross then write again

You talk about her, I laugh on cue

Fold up my feelings, just like you do

I swear i’m happy and it’s half true

But I still wish she was me to you

It’s frustrating, feeling this way. You should feel happy for him, you do feel happy for him. But you can’t help it.

You go to bed restless that night. 

That fall was the worst harvest Smallvilles ever had. Some of the farmers had crop loss so severe that they had to sell some of their animals. Smallville was as tight knit as they come, and so people helped each other out where they could. You and Clark worked together, opening a small food pantry for those in need.

Because of the rough start to autumn, back to school morale was at an all time low. That coupled up with the fact that this was your first year of high school made your nerves all the more worse. You tossed and turned restlessly before deciding to just get up. You walked to your closet, pulling on a pair of comfy shorts before biking over to Clarks. His room is on the second floor, but he always leaves the first floor studys’ window unlocked so that you can come over if you need him. You leave your window open, he manages to get up somehow, you don’t really know how but you don’t ask questions. 

After pulling the window up and avoiding making any creaks or noises, you contort yourself into the house. Gently going up the stairs you reach Clarks door. You knock quietly.

After a few seconds Clark comes to the door. He clearly hasn’t slept yet either, and his shoulders relax as he sees you. After letting you in, he closes the door behind you.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

You drop onto his bed responding with a hum. “I blame it on nerves”

“How come you’re nervous?” a familiar weight joins you on the mattress. 

“I dunno, it’s nothing really”

His eyes narrow a little before laying down, you’re both laying horizontally on the bed now, knees to the edge. “You’re lying”

“No i’m not”

“Yes you are”

“Am not”

“Are too”

You roll your eyes, looking to the side before staring at the ceiling. The fan moves along lazily, doing little to cool the burning you felt in your face

“High school just seems scary, after this I either have to get a job or go to college. Either way, i’ll be leaving Smallville and leaving Smallville means leaving you. And the last time I left behind my friends we basically stopped speaking all together save calls on our birthdays. I don’t know if I can handle that. And I know it sounds dumb-”

He cuts you off, he looks at you, and you can feel it. Meeting his eyes you look back at him, they’re still the same shade of blue. Bright, blinding, beautiful.

“We aren’t gonna stop being best friends just because you move y’know. We made a promise. We keep our promises.” His pinky intertwines with yours and you can’t help the smile that reaches your face. 

“I know I know, but we’re both only going to get busier. Me with my music and you with your writing. We’ll join clubs, you’ll finally ask Lana out and i’ll probably go out with Pete”

“Wait Pete Ross? Of all people, why Pete?” He gets up, leaning back on his elbows, looking at you in disbelief

Immediatley you feel defensive, you get up too, mirroring him. “Why not? We have music together and he’s pretty cool.” “Well I don’t know, he seems” Clark pauses for a moment. Knowing him he’s trying to figure out how to say a not so nice thing in a nice way. He settles on calling him “Unique”. You scoff getting up feeling anger start to bubble up in your chest. “Ok I dont understand why you can’t be supportive of who I want to date when I've been your number one when it comes to you and Lana” You start to walk towards the door. Before you can make he grabs your arm, stopping you. You flinch, he’s holding onto you, hard. He lets go immediately, apologizing. 

“Look I didn’t mean it like that, I'm sure he’s great.” His hands come up to his neck, scratching it softly. He’s lying, you know it. Great. Just great. 

You had given him the decency to be happy for him and Lana, so why couldn’t he even pretend to be happy for you? It wasn’t even like you guys were together. You pushed out a quick goodbye and made your way quietly down the steps. You had never left his house feeling worse than when you had come, but apparently there was a first time for everything. 

You knew he’d be waiting to bike with you in the morning, so you left for school half an hour early. Your mom looked at you skeptically before handing you your lunch. After saying bye to your grandparents, you left. 

You honestly don’t know if you were even hiding how shitty you felt. Last night kept playing on loop, and you dreaded the day ahead as you got closer to your new home for the next four years. 

Smallville High seemed huge and intimidating to you in the past, but you were older now. If you looked close enough, you could see the grout chipping off the bricks. You looked up, seeing SMALLVILLE HIGH SCHOOL in bold red letters. They loomed over you mockingly. 

Letting out a sigh, you made your way into the mostly empty halls. Checking your watch, you still had some time before first period, so you decided to go to your music class and scope out the place. It wasn’t grand by any means, but it was a huge upgrade from junior high. The room was small, cosy. There were rows where the choir would sing, and along the side of the wall opposite lay an assortment of instruments. Guitar, bass, drums. There were also cases, you assumed, for the band and orchestra instruments. 

While you were busy exploring your new school, Clark had arrived at your house. He had some of Ma’s oatmeal cookies with him, they were your favorite, and he really was sorry. He felt even worse after your mom told him you had left early. Said it was something about trying out for band. She had looked at him with pity, like she knew something he didn’t. Smiling and nodding, he turned around and picked up his bike. 

Since when did you want to do band?

The first bell rang and you made your way to class. The first period of the day was history. It was a subject you liked, but your teacher Mr. Jensen seemed to have a natural talent for making the most interesting of things boring. As his monotone voice dragged on you felt yourself nodding off a little before someone to your right nudged you gently. 

Looking over, you noticed Pete Ross of all people signaling his head to the board. You almost laughed, how ironic. 

The rest of the day passed with a similar vibe, you were exhausted and if you had to do one more ice breaker you were going to slam your head into the wall. Everyone already knew everyone so what was the point? At least you hadn’t seen Clark today though, small wins. 

Speaking of Clark, he had spent almost all day trying to spot you, this year you guys didn’t have any classes together, or lunch so he had resorted to wasting his passing period. Not like he really needed it to get to class on time. He bit on the inside of his cheek, he had really messed up this time. 

-

The following 3 weeks were some of the worst you had ever had. You didn’t know if it was because you had been ducking Clark, or if it was because your music teacher seemed to hate everything you had to offer. He said your music was “too rough” and it would lead to “sin”.

As if.

You rolled your eyes, getting angry just thinking about it. You tried to write new songs, but you kept on turning back to one of the earliest pages of your journal. The page was worn out more than the ones surrounding it, and was dotted with a few old tearstains. You flicked your pen back and forth before writing

I wrote your name in every line

You traced hers over it, realigned

I was the echo you never heard 

Just background hum beneath your words

This was getting really pathetic, you knew you were in the wrong by now. He had tried to apologize and you had been too upset to forgive him. You steeled yourself, and decided that today was the day. You grabbed your bike, and headed over to the Kents. 

Your heart was hammering in your chest, you honestly thought you were going to throw up. You took deep breaths as you walked up to the porch.

Clark. This is Clark. The same guy that cried when he saw ant piles disappear in the rain, the same Clark that walked a mile with you on his back when you were 10 because you scraped your knee playing. You’re fine, he’s fine, you guys will be ok.

You knock on the door

It opens and familiar green eyes meet yours. Lana Lang. She smiles at you, but it doesn’t fully reach her eyes.

“Oh hey, you! So good to see you?”

“Yeah, you too Lana, is Clark here?” Your resolve is crumbing by the second, your feet itch with the urge to just turn around.

“Clarkie? Yeah he’s here, do you want something?” She bats her eyelashes at you, waiting for a response

You grimace at the nickname. Clarkie? Really?

“Uh yeah, I wanted to talk to him actually, can you just send him out? Or I can come in-” As you say that she closes the door so that just her face peeks out. 

“I’ll see if he can come out” She smiles at you, then slams the door in your face. And so you wait. And wait. And wait. Three minutes turns into five, and before you know it it’s been fifteen minutes. You’re contemplating just leaving but the door opens again.

You perk up, expecting Clark but it’s Lana at the door instead. Something is different about her though, your eyes narrow and you notice the lipstick she had on earlier is almost gone, smudged around the corners. Her face is flushed, and she’s breathing heavily. You feel yourself start to get sick.

“So sorry love but he’s too busy to come talk right now. Maybe some other day?” She doesn’t even let you speak, and closes the door in your face. Wow.

What you didn’t know is that Lana hadn’t even told Clark you had come, when he asked who it was she said it was just some delivery man that had gotten the wrong address.

They had been working on a piece for the Smallville Torch, his first issue was a big deal and he had wanted a second pair of eyes. He had tried going to you, and you needed space. Lana had offered and he didn’t see the harm in it. He wasn’t really expecting her to just abandon helping him though, she basically out of nowhere had started to give him the look and started to kiss him. He didn’t mimd, but he really needed to work on the piece.

After giving her some more pecks he got back to work. Lana had left the room saying she needed to use the restroom, but he heard the front door open.

He honed his listening in, and when he heard Lana telling someone that he was busy he was confused, then he heard your voice. You sounded hurt. It dawned on him then, what had actually been going on. 

Ever since you guys had that argument, he had gotten kinda lonely. All of his other friends had told him to just find you and apologize again, but he knew you wouldn’t really accept it until he had given you space. He had started to hang out with Lana more, and more, and she always acted weird when you were brought up. He put his head in his hands, god he had really done it this time. He was ripped out of his thoughts when the door opened and a smiley Lana had waltzed in. He told her to leave nicely, or so he thought. She started crying, asking what she did wrong. When he wouldn’t give her an answer, she started to yell. At least Ma and Pa weren’t home, they wouldn’t have liked to hear him speak that way to a lady, even if she was hurting him.

As he walked her back to the stairs, she kept on talking, but about you now. Started saying all kinds of awful things and if he hadn’t known better he would’ve cussed her out. He closed the door as she left and went back to his room to try and figure out how to fix this mess.

You’ve been crying for a good hour by now, you can’t help it. You keep on trying to tell yourself that he’s just a friend but you can’t help the way your heart aches. You can’t deal with it anymore. You open the all too familiar page in your journal and write the final chorus to the song.

I’m the silence when you need a friend

The start of stories that never end

You talk about her, I know you should

She makes you smile the way I wish I could

And maybe that’s just how it goes

Some hearts stay hidden, some never show

As you finish the last line, the ink is still wet as you make your resolve. If you can’t get rid of the feelings you have for Clark, you’ll just shove them down. 

You lay in bed trying to figure out what chords are gonna be the best for your song when you hear your window start to creak open. You don’t tense up, but you are thankful that your tears had stopped flowing a few hours ago.

A weight dips into the bed in front of you, and as you look up your heart breaks just a little bit. Sitting at the foot of your bed is Clark. His clack curls lay messily on his head, he’s looking at you apologetically, and you don’t miss the redness in your eyes as he stares. He’s been crying, the poor thing. 

You don’t even speak, just letting your guitar rest softly on the bed as you move to stand up in front of him. Standing, you cradle the head of the boy sat beneath you. You can hear small sniffles as he begins to apologize. Your fingers toy with his hair gently, as you apologize to him too.

“And I’ve been meaning to tell you, honestly I was just going to tell you tomorrow, but me and Lana are done” His voice shakes slightly as he nuzzles his head further into your stomach.

Whatever anger that you had immediately vanishes as you listen. He tells you about what happened earlier that day, how he had been feeling, him trying to find you. 

You both had been so lonely these last few weeks. You move his head gently so that he’s looking at you, and raise a pinky. Silently, they interlock. 

-

You find yourself falling into a new rhythm, you aren’t that sad anymore, not really. Clark and you both date your fair share of people in highschool, you start a band that (miserably) falls apart. He’s always at every gig you had though, within fail. Clark gets better and writes more stories for the Torch. By senior year, not only is he editor in chief, he’s also the Captain of the Smallville Crows, the varsity football team.

You guys make an odd pair, him in his letterman and blue jeans, and you in your studded leather jacket and ripped jeans. You guys were still two peas in a pod. 

While most things were the same, some things had changed. You had started to dye your hair, going from purple to green, before settling on the dark cherry red you had now. You couldn’t tell when it was down, but you buzzed the sides of your hair so that you could put it into a mohawk when you wanted. Clark had changed too, he had gotten taller, stronger. He was able to lift things that shouldn’t even be humanly possible, he would flinch at loud noises, and vanish when there were emergencies in town. 

-

You guys decided to go to prom together, as friends of course. Neither of you had dates and you didn’t see the fun in going alone. You arrived at the gym around 9:30pm, in the Kents pickup. 

It’s been pretty fun so far, the music they’re playing isn’t half bad. They played a lot of the Mighty Crabjoys, you shouldn’t be too surprised though. Clark had managed to get the whole team hooked on them. As you guys are sitting at the bleachers chilling, he suddenly freezes. 

You freeze too, and ask what’s wrong. He says something, barely a whisper but you make out “My parents. It’s my parents, somethings wrong.” Getting up he looks to you

“Stay here for me”

Matching him, you get up. 

“Like hell I will”

He flashes you a smile before worry covers his face again. He grabs your hand and rushes out of the gym, leading you both to the truck. 

Turning the car on, he speaks

“Ok I, I don’t know if I can explain this right now”

“Then don’t. Let’s go”

He hesitates for a second before backing out and speeding away from school. You guys are going fast. Fast for your standards means lightning speed for Clarks. You guys are going down the dirt roads and when you glance at the wheel, you see his knuckles turning white. 

The truck comes to a screeching halt, and through the highbeams you see a truly scary sight.

Jonathan's truck crashed off the side of the road, crumpled. You feel your heart drop as you scramble to get out of the car. 

Looking at the scene in front of you, you bring your fingers to your hair, trying to calm yourself. 

“Clark this is bad, really bad. We gotta call someone” He shakes his head “There isn’t any time”

And for the first time since you’ve known him, Clark Kent has rendered you truly speechless.

You watch as he rips the mangled door of the truck off its hinges with his left hand, getting Jonathan and Martha out like they weigh nothing. You wonder for a second if the gas tank is leaking and if you're hallucinating this whole thing. You snap out of it, opening the back of the pickup to lay his parents down.

You don’t question him, Clark has always made sure you were safe. So what if he was insanely strong and could probably pick your whole house up without breaking a sweat. He was still the same Clark.

He begins to drive towards the farm and you break the silence

“Does anyone else know?”

“Just Ma and Pa, and you now too”

There’s a brief silence before you ask, quieter “Why me”

“Because I trust you.”

After his parents are put in bed and their injuries taken care of, (You had insisted on them getting xrays but he said he could see their bones. That weirded you out for a second, then you asked him to describe your skull. It was his turn to be weirded out then)

You guys don’t end up going back to the dance, and instead lay in the fields watching the stars. A comfortable silence envelops you both, and you guys slowly drift off to sleep. 

- 

Graduation creeps up quickly, a small ball of dread has been building for the last few weeks. You had already been accepted into Gotham University, full ride courtesy of a Mr. Bruce Wayne. Apparently, if you were poor enough, he’d just throw money at you. You weren’t sure if it was charity or penance, and honestly, you didn’t care.

It was funny, though, how one man could casually bankroll someone’s entire education without blinking, while the rest of the country drowned in debt just for daring to want a future. You wondered how deep his pockets went, how many zeroes it took to feel absolved.

But you weren’t about to spit in the face of your ticket out. If the system was rigged, you were taking whatever scraps fell off the billionaire table, and running.

Clark was going to be leaving too, but to Metropolis. He had gotten into Metropolis University for journalism and you couldn’t be more happy for him. He’d finally be somewhere bigger, somewhere that matched him. Not just his powers, though that would probably help, but the rest of him too. His inherent goodness, the kind that made people want to be better by just standing next to him, would probably create more positivity in the city.

The night before you both were to walk the stage, you went out into the fields like you always did. It was basically tradition at this point. You guys could be quiet together, no small town noise, no teachers, no futures looming on acceptances and job offers. 

Just the two of you and the stars.

You were both laying in the back of his truck, staring up at the kind of sky that makes you feel small in a good way. Crickets chirped in the tall grass. His plaid flannel was draped over your shoulders. You strummed your guitar absentmindedly, playing some song you had heard on the radio earlier. You guys sat in comfortable silence

“Do you ever think,” he said quietly, eyes still on the stars, “about how weird it is? That we’re supposed to just.. start our lives tomorrow? Like real ones. Adult ones. Without ever really being with someone we trusted?”

You stopped strumming

Not because the thought was strange, but because it wasn’t. Not at all. 

“Yeah, actually” you said. “All the time.”

You shifted slightly, and the flannel slipped down your left shoulder. 

“People act like we’re supposed to have all these big experiences already figured out. Like we’re gonna just wake up in our dorms or our apartments or wherever, and just know what the hell we’re doing”

Clark smiles at that, small and sad. “I’ve been working since I can remember and I still don’t feel like I know anything”

You laugh softly, nudging him a little. “You know plenty, you just think too much”

He turned his head to look at you, something was different about his eyes. They seemed to glow in the moonlight, a bright, blinding blue. 

“Maybe I do, but not about this.”

Your breath catches in your throat

“This?” you repeat, almost afraid to ask

He doesn’t look away, just says that he “trusts you”

It wasn’t a confession, not really. But it felt like one. Something quiet and huge at the same time. Something that shifted the air in between you

You swallowed, “I trust you too”

The silence that followed wasn’t awkward, but was pronounced. It pulsed with everything you had wanted to tell him but hadn’t, not yet.

You set your guitar aside

“I don’t wanna go into the rest of my life never having felt close to someone y’know?” you admitted, voice quiet. “Not like that, I mean really being close to someone, them actually seeing me and choosing me”

His hands found yours in the space between you. “Me neither”

You leaned in first. Or maybe he did. You weren’t sure, because the second it happened, time seemed to stop.

It felt unreal having his lips on yours again. They were soft, and his hands pulled you closer. The boy who you had lost your first kiss to al those years ago grew up, and so had you.

You broke the kiss as you straddled his waist, and then you kissed him again. You had kissed people before, but it never felt like this. Your arms looped behind his neck as you felt yourself grinding into him subconsciously. He whimpered into your mouth before bringing his hand to your waist to help you move.

His hands both came to your waist, and he gently flipped your positions so that you were lying on your back and he was on top of you.

His kisses began to trail down, moving from your lips to your neck, down to your collar bones. When he was met with the barrier of a shirt he looked at you for permission. Once you gave him the go ahead he brought it over your head. You couldve sworn you saw hearts in eyes as he stared at you.

He looked at you as if you were a work of art, a sculpture of a deity so holy that you had to worship it. He began to kiss down your sternum, unclasping your bra before his mouth found your nipples. Swirling his tongue, he sucked gently while tweaking the other. It made a familiar heat rush down between your legs and you couldn’t help the small pants that escaped your mouth. 

This seemed to only spur him on however, and he went further and further down before removing your shorts. He groaned when he saw the wet spot of your panties, glossing over it with his fingers before he pulled them down too.

“Is it alright if I try something?” He asked you softly

You nodded your head, unsure about what exactly he was planning on doing

And that was when you felt a warm tongue pressing into you. Clarks head was deep between your legs, his fingers gripped your thighs gently but firmly as he ate you up. The feeling you had now was entirely foreign to you, and you couldn’t help but grab at his hair as he pushed himself deeper and deeper in. His nose rubbed against your clit as his tongue continued to prod at your folds and you felt a coil building up in your stomach. He brought his right hand down, letting go of your right leg while pushing your left up higher, causing him to hit you at a new angle. That on its own would’ve been a lot but his thumb began to make small circles on your clit. It was too good, and far too much. You barely got out a warning before you were cumming, he stayed put, helping you ride out your high. He pulled away from you with a smile on his face, and wiped his lips before coming up to kiss you. 

As his tongue wrapped around yours you could taste yourself on him, it was embarrassing how much it had turned you on. While he kissed you, he began to fumble with his shorts, getting them pushed down and then kicking them off to who knows where. 

“Is it ok if we go all the way? It’s totally fine if not-” You cut him off by kissing him and claw at his boxers. He laughs into the kiss as gets them off and for the second time in your life, Clark Kent has left you speechless. He’s big, really big, I-dont-even-know-if-it’ll-fit kinda big, but you’ve never backed down from a challenge. 

“Can you lay down f’me? I read somewhere that I have to get you ready for it first”

You laugh at that, imagining him trying to find a website that gives sex tips. You oblige, laying down as he covers his fingers with some of his spit before bringing them back down to your entrance. He starts off with one finger. It’s a stretch, but after a while he adds another, then another, he slowly scissors you open and after a few minutes you’re ready. He asks you if you’re sure one more time as he lines himself up. After you tell him again, smiling “yes, i’m sure” he begins to push in slowly.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt. For the first few minutes you thought you were gonna be ripped in half. Clark made sure to rub circles on your clit, and kissed your face as you adjusted inch by inch. Soon enough, you’ve taken all of him and you give him the ok that he can move. 

And move he does.

He starts softly, his arms are at either side of your head and he thrusts softly in and out. He begins to pick up the pace and your back starts to arch. It feels so good, it's like your whole being is wholly consumed by him, he’s everything you want and everything you need.

You open your eyes and he’s at your neck, smiling as he presses kisses into it. You feel yourself get closer and he shifts slightly. He’s hitting deeper in this position, his arms holding you up by the hips as his thrusts quicken in intensity. He’s hitting something deep inside you and you can feel the knot building inside you getting tighter and tighter.

You manage to get out that you’re close and somehow his speed starts to increase even more. He’s letting out quiet moans and whimpers. Whispering out small praises for you, that you’re “doing so good f’me” and taking him “so well”. It all starts to be too much for you and you reach your arms out, grabbing his face to pull him in for a kiss.

He fills you to the hilt and you let yourself go. He follows suit shortly after, smiling and pressing kisses all over your face before gently pulling out. You’re already on the pill so he isn’t as worried as he would’ve been otherwise. 

You both lay tangled together in the back of the truck, the stars reflecting back, forming constellations that you both know like the back of your hand. Neither of you said I love you. Neither of you had to

But god, did you both wish you could.

You guys drive back home. He drops you at yours, walks you to the door before hugging you goodbye. You hear him leave as you close the door.

You go over the next day, you had borrowed one of Clarks writing books to help with some lyrics, and you knew he was going to need it if he started packing. 

Opening the door you saw Martha at the kitchen table, hunched over. As you got closer you made out what she was doing, she was sketching out.. suit designs?

After noticing you she quickly ushers you over, “Come look sweetie, it’s a project. For Clark”

You join her at the kitchen table, helping her come up with a color scheme. You decide to use the primary colors. You add a cape too, for “pizzaz” 

The night before you both leave for college, you guys hang out in your room. Things aren’t awkward between you two, but you’re holding yourself back from telling him how you feel. You don’t bring up that night, or the suit. 

Before he leaves, he hugs you. Tight, like always. He tells you that you’ll do amazing in Gotham, and that he can’t wait to visit. You smile, telling him that if he doesn’t come see you at least once this semester that you’ll murder him. 

-

You hear about a new hero that’s popped up in Metropolis called Superman a few weeks later. As you’re sitting in your dorm watching the skyline a flash of gold and red streaks across the night sky

It’s just a blur, but it brings a smile to your face anyway

He remembered.

[kingkaisen]

HII I know your reqs are closed rn but I just want to send this now because I know im going to forget😭 I was thinking maybe an alternate version of your latest dad!gojo series with sick reader, but more angst as reader actually has a terminal illness? can be a sad or bittersweet ending, whichever you prefer!!

“I CAN’T LOSE HER.”

♡ — 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Over two years ago, you & your husband, Satoru, adopted two of his teenage students, Yuji & Megumi. You also have a biological six-year-old girl and two boy-girl twin babies.

What happens when, suddenly, you start to cough up blood?

♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: HEAVY angst, fluff, fem reader, canonverse, throwing up, mentions of blood, happy ending. No one can stand the idea of losing you, especially Gojo!

♡ — 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 6K

♡ — 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: this fic is part of my dad!gojo series, but reading the other parts isn't necessary. also, the reader doesn’t technically have a terminal illness!

“I must warn you,” the doctor stared into the reddened, tear-filled eyes of Yuji, then at Megumi’s trembling fist, and lastly, at the handmade Get Well Soon! card covered in doodles in the hands of the crying six-year-old girl by their side. “Seeing her this way could be traumatizing. I urge you to consider if this is the last memory you want to have of your mother.”

—

SEVERAL HOURS EARLIER

It began with the coughing.

The evening was fine, in the beginning. Just fine.

Your two adopted teenagers, Megumi and Yuji, could be heard moving around the house as they prepared themselves for bed, taking hot showers and switching into random pairs of shorts and t-shirts. Your biological twin babies, Kaia and Kenji, along with your young daughter, Maya, were fast asleep.

Everything was going fine. Just fine.

Satoru Gojo’s blue eyes flickered up at you as you emerged from the master bathroom, a swirl of steam flooding the bedroom once the door opened.

A robe clung around your body. There was a smile, albeit a tired one, but a smile nevertheless, gracing your clay mask-covered face, and you approached Satoru — who relaxed on the enormous bed — with the little jar of that gray concoction in your hand.

“You know the drill, honey, come here.” You said, sitting on the side of the bed.

He leaned forward with a little smile.

“Will this stuff make me even prettier?” Satoru grinned.

“I don’t think you can get any prettier,” you joked, and a small giggle escaped you, one that made Satoru’s smile brighten as his heart skipped a beat.

Dipping the applicator into the clay mask, you then brought it to Satoru’s face and smeared it across his cheek.

“So, what do you rank that movie? Scale of one to ten.” Your husband’s words sounded rather funny, seeing as he was trying his hardest not to move his face too much amidst your little spa session.

“Hmm . . . I give it a . . . I give it an eight. The ending was a little predictable, but I enjoyed it,” you paused, dragging the application across his chin. “It’s hard finding films that everyone might enjoy. Yuji kinda likes everything, but Megumi likes movies that aren’t appropriate for Maya. And I think you just like bad movies.”

Satoru laughed then — he couldn’t help it.

“Says the woman who has seen Titanic, what, fifteen times in the last year or so and still gets upset when the ship hits the iceberg.” Satoru paused. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but the movie isn’t gonna change.”

“It could, you never know!” You laughed and continued to apply the face mask to his skin. “And you’re exaggerating. I haven’t seen it that much. It just seems that way to you because you roll your eyes whenever I watch it. Don’t tell me you’re jealous of 90’s Leonardo DiCaprio.”

“Jealous? Honey, didn’t you just say I couldn’t get any prettier?” Satoru playfully rolled his eyes at you. “Besides, I just don’t like it ‘cause it’s too depressing.”

“That’s kinda the whole point.”

“Yeah, but those tragic romance movies are always even more depressing to watch when you’re in love with someone. I can’t help but imagine what it would be like if I were stuck in that same situation with you. Ya know, if I weren’t as brilliant as I am in real life. And I can’t stand the idea of one of us dying on the other.”

Your smile faded then. There was a shimmer of something within your gaze — a gaze that now failed to lock with Satoru’s.

“What’s wrong?” The corners of his lips fell into a frown.

“Nothing,” you mumbled, putting the jar that held your clay down. Then, suddenly, you smiled and poked his chest. “Leave it to you to make the conversation sappy and depressing all of a sudden. Anyway, don’t forget to wash off that mask in fifteen to twenty minutes.”

—

Water dripped off of his face and splattered the sink as Satoru washed off the last of the gray product on his skin.

“Don’t forget to moisturize!” You rushed into the bathroom as he patted his face dry with a towel.

As soon as he turned his head in your direction, white cream was suddenly smeared across his face. You rubbed it into his skin, all while he groaned in protest.

“Is this moisturizer or sour cream? Why is it so cold?”

“Oh hush, you big baby.” The last bit of moisturizer had seeped into his skin, and you closed your container and set it on the bathroom counter. “The world's strongest sorcerer can’t handle a little cold moisturizer, huh?”

“Oh? I’m the one who can’t handle things?” Satoru’s hands found your waist, and he pulled you against him, right before his fingers started to gently dig into your flesh, tickling you. “Look at you, you can’t even handle being tickled.”

“Stop it, I’m not one of the kids,” you laughed, trying to push his hand away, but they found your hips, and held you close.

“I’ll stop once you-”

Satoru was interrupted by you suddenly breaking out into a fit of coughs.

He stepped away then, still grinning. He assumed that your coughing was the result of laughing too much.

But you weren’t stopping.

Your coughs grew louder. More forceful. You frowned in panic.

“Baby?” Satoru approached you, placing a hand on your back as you leaned against one of the bathroom sinks, covering your mouth with your hand.

“‘Toru-” you couldn’t speak. You could only cough.

Satoru leaned down, attempting to look at your face, and he saw it then.

The blood seeping from between your fingers.

“Oh my god,” His eyes widened. “Baby, you’re . . . that’s fucking blood.”

—

He didn’t drive you to the hospital.

He didn’t call for an ambulance.

Satoru Gojo carried you in his arms, warping the distance between your home and the nearest emergency room, and teleported right outside of their see-through doors.

He rushed inside.

Medical staff noticed you, the coughing woman with blood spraying out of your mouth, decorating the front of your robe, and the shirt of the man who carried you.

“My wife . . . she-she won’t stop coughing,” Satoru’s eyes were wide with panic. “She’s coughing up blood.”

He passed your body to the doctor in front of him, who then laid you on a gurney that a handful of nurses rushed over with.

“Will she be alright? Will she . . . what’s wrong with her? What’s wrong with her?”

“Sir,” the doctor placed a hand on Satoru’s shoulder. “I need you to calm down so we can get some information from you. I promise you we’ll do everything we can to help her.”

—

It was around two hours before midnight when Yuji slowly opened the door to Megumi’s dark bedroom. The light from the hallway filtered into his room, and Yuji could slightly see the lumpy figure that was his body hidden underneath his covers.

“Psst . . . psst . . . Megumi,” Yuji loudly whispered.

“I’m asleep,” Megumi mumbled back.

“No, you’re not.” Yuji stepped into his room then. “Megumi, c’mon, this is serious! I heard someone come through the front door! I think we’re getting robbed!”

“You’re a sorcerer who can punch through walls. You can handle it,” Megumi yawned. “Please don’t bother me unless they’re trying to take our coffee maker.”

Yuji heard footsteps.

He dashed into Megumi’s room and shut the door behind him.

“Yuji,” Megumi said, sitting up. He looked at the alarm clock on his nightstand. “Yuji, you are seventeen years old. Seventeen. You’ve eaten the fingers of the king of curses, killed plenty of curses yourself, and you possess some weird superhuman strength. If you don’t get out of my room by the count of three, I will summon every shikigami of mine to drag you out of here.”

“You don’t get it. Mom and Dad are missing!”

Before Megumi could respond, someone knocked at his bedroom door.

“Megumi? It’s Kento. There’s . . . been an emergency. I’m here to drive you and your siblings to the hospital.”

—

“Dad? What’s going on?”

Yuji rushed over to the slumped-over white-haired man with great urgency. Maya rushed over as well, wrapping a blanket around herself even tighter as she crawled into the open seat next to her dad, and let her eyes close.

Kento and Megumi held the two sleeping twins in their arms.

The waiting room was a spacious brown and white area that smelled of coffee and Clorox wipes. A television hung upon the wall played reruns of a home-improvement show.

“Dad?” Yuji called out yet again. “What’s wrong with Mom? What happened?”

“I don’t-I don’t know,” Satoru looked at the ground. He ran his large hand across his face, utterly exhausted. “The doctors don’t know. No one knows. I was just . . . we were just in the bathroom, messing around when she started . . . coughing up blood.”

Megumi’s eyes widened.

“She just started coughing up blood,” Satoru repeated softly.

—

Two hours had passed.

Two.

The waiting room was slowly filling with people who cared about you, despite the time of night. Maya was wide awake by now, excited to see so many familiar faces, but brokenhearted once someone told her you weren’t feeling well. Therefore, the young girl occupied herself by lying across the waiting room floor and creating a card for you with paper and crayons.

Everyone sat around, waiting for news, and after what felt like forever, a few medical staff members started to gather outside the waiting room.

Satoru and Kento rushed over to meet them.

Yuji couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he saw it.

He saw the look on Kento’s face. The pale skin. The wide, surprised eyes.

The blonde-haired man stepped back into the waiting room, but Satoru didn’t move.

Yuji and Megumi rushed up to Kento. He couldn’t look them in the eye as he spoke.

“She might go in two hours.”

There was a part of Yuji that wanted to laugh. Part of him thought that, surely, his dear Uncle Kento was joking.

Yuji smiled as a tear rolled down his cheek. “No . . . No, this isn’t true. You’re joking, right? This-This is just some kinda sick prank?”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry to all of you.”

“Go where?” Maya, who walked over with the Get Well Soon! card she made for you in hand, darted her eyes between Kento and Yuji. “Where is mommy going?”

Megumi’s stomach churned then. A wave of nausea washed over him, droplets of sweat decorating his pale forehead, but Kento’s words had paralyzed him. He knew he needed to make a break for the bathroom, but his limbs were made of stone.

“She’s going to die. Another person I care for is going to leave me. She’s . . . My mom is going to die.”

It started to come up; the tiny bouts of soup he forced down thirty minutes prior to this nightmare.

Suddenly, Toge, who had arrived an hour ago, pressed a tiny garbage can filled with tear-covered tissue and snack wrappers against Megumi’s chest.

It caught the vomit just in time. He had felt hands on his back and arm as someone guided him to a nearby seat, his head slung over the garbage can within his grip now, and he stayed that way, puking up his insides even well after there was nothing left.

Yuji couldn’t recall when he found his way to the floor. But there he was. His back was pressed against a wall or a door — he didn’t fucking know or care. And his legs were bent upwards as if he wanted to pull his knees to his chest, but lost the desire to do so completely.

Nobara got down on her knees beside him. Her hand touched his shoulder, her face frowned with both enormous sympathy and a great deal of her own grief.

“I was talking to her the other day, Yuji. When she was talking about you, she went on and on about how proud she was . . . is. She was planning something special for you and-”

“Stop it. You’re not helping.” Though he spoke through a clenched jaw and gritted teeth, his words held no anger.

He only sounded broken.

It was something Nobara hadn’t heard before, and that terrified her, made her eyes go wide as the tears finally started to fall.

Kento didn’t mean to let Satoru leave his line of sight.

After he delivered the news, after he was burdened with telling your family that you only had two hours left to live, his worried eyes went to a vomiting Megumi, a collapsing Yuji, and a confused Maya, tugging on his clothes as she asked questions and didn’t quite understand the answers.

But Toge was helping Megumi, Nobara was doing her best to comfort Yuji, and two other people held your unknowledgeable babies while Maya’s cousin distracted her until . . . until someone could properly tell her that she would never see her mommy alive again.

That left Satoru. Who was comforting the husband? Surely everyone in the crowded waiting room had rushed out to be by his side, but as Kento darted his eyes across hugging figures and crying faces, he didn’t see him.

“Where’s Satoru?” Kento asked.

“He went down the hall,” a croaking voice that belonged to a relative with eyes like yours replied before dotting said eyes with a piece of tissue.

And no one went after him? Kento thought. Shit . . . damn it.

You were coming closer and closer to crossing the line between life and death with every second Kento spent searching for Satoru.

He asked several staff members if they had seen a white-haired man walk by, and finally — finally — someone pointed him in the direction of an empty hospital room.

Kento released a shaky breath, adjusting his tie as he gripped the door handle.

He turned it, opening the door slowly.

And there he was.

The hospital room, void of patients or anyone aside from Satoru himself, was dark. Clean.

Satoru was pacing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. He didn’t halt his footsteps when Kento walked in — the blonde-haired man had no clue if Satoru even knew of his presence — as Satoru only faced the ground as he continued to walk.

“Satoru,” Kento called out, stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him.

“Get out.”

“Satoru-”

“Get out.” His unsteady voice was barely above a whisper. But then, Satoru suddenly stopped walking, glared at Kento with bloodshot eyes and a face full of tears, and shouted at him. “Get the hell out!”

“No.” Kento approached the trembling man. “I’m not leaving you alone right now, Satoru.”

Satoru’s hands were lost in his messy hair. He gripped the white strands, darting his blue eyes around at every corner of the room as if he were searching for something.

“Get out. Please, please get out. I can’t do this. I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this. I’m not the- I’m not the fucking strongest. I’m not strong enough for this. I can’t fucking do this. I can’t lose her. Not her.” He was crying. Sinking to the floor. He would have fallen if Kento hadn’t caught him, sat on the hospital bed, and held the other man against him as best as he could. And Satoru continued to sob harder than he ever had throughout his entire life. “Oh god, I can’t lose her. I can’t lose her, I can’t, I can’t lose her.”

“Satoru, you need to go see your wife, right now. You need to be there.”

Satoru couldn’t speak. The next, brewing sob was stuck in his chest. It took his breath away — he couldn’t fucking breathe — it took everything away until there was nothing, nothing except for silent, dead air as he trembled, his eyes squeezed shut, and then, there it was.

That ear-piercing sob. That screaming cry.

Staff members gathered at the nurses’ station down the hallway could hear it, and even the nurses who had witnessed people grieve every single day for decades couldn’t help but let a tear fall.

Kento held him even tighter. His ears rang, and he couldn’t help but flinch, but his large hand was wrapped around Satoru’s head, fingers softly gripping his messy white hair, and he held him against his chest. Kento’s own tears splattered against Satoru’s head. From where he held Satoru against him, he couldn’t help but wonder if the sobbing man could hear his own heart breaking as well.

Satoru clenched his teeth, his breathing erratic. It came out in waves of hisses, gasps, wheezing . . . noises that sounded almost inhuman. Then, the sobs returned. He was sobbing, sobbing, and sobbing, soaking Kento’s shirt.

His body trembled violently, forcing Kento to adjust his grip on him as meaningless comforts spilled from between his lips: “It’s okay . . . It’ll be okay . . .”

That was when Satoru clenched his shaking fist. His nails dug into the flesh of his palm until a line of cuts formed, and blood seeped out and spilled onto the marble floor.

“You need to see her, Satoru. You need to see her before she goes.”

He wasn’t listening, and Kento couldn’t exactly blame him for that. But he knew Satoru would never forgive himself if he missed his chance to say goodbye.

“I can’t lose her . . . I can’t lose her . . . I can’t lose her . . . I can’t lose her . . .”

—

There were an endless number of cords, tubes, and wires running along the floor, being tended to by busy doctors and nurses, who were quiet out of respect — out of knowing — hooked both to the several machines that surrounded you, and hooked to your unconscious body as well.

Yuji was sitting on the side of your bed. His body was across yours, his shoulders rising and falling as he cried.

“It’s not fair,” his muffled voice filled the room. “Please don’t die, Momma. Please don’t die. I’m begging you . . . I’m begging!”

Maya crawled onto your bed then. The wires scared her a bit, and her fear led to her being mindful enough to avoid them as she made her way to your side.

Yuji pulled away from you at the sight of her.

“Maya . . .” his brown eyes were wide with tears, but the young girl ignored him.

She put her hand on your shoulder, her little face twisting into a frown when her touch did nothing.

“Mommy?” She called out, shaking you. “Wake up, mommy.”

Megumi couldn’t take it any longer.

He was standing by your side, holding your hand — which no longer felt like your hand, but something cold and swollen from the IV needles within your veins — but he let it go, rushing out of your hospital room, ignoring the calls of his name from people he didn’t bother looking up at. Not that he could. Not when his tears blurred his vision until everything before him was a mesh of disoriented shapes and colors.

There was a wheelchair being rolled down the eerie hospital hallway that squeaked every half-second. Megumi didn’t notice the person being pushed as he made his way to the nearest exit, and that person didn’t notice him.

The wheelchair was loud. Uncomfortably loud. Especially because, now, Satoru’s ear-piercing sobs had vanished, and silent shock came next.

He couldn’t speak. He didn’t blink. He could barely move.

That was the reason Kento put him in a wheelchair, and wheeled him into your hospital room.

It was crowded in there. Crowded with presents, cards, flowers, balloons, and snacks. Crowded with your relatives, friends, Satoru’s students, your sons, and your daughters.

Shoko was the first to notice Satoru being wheeled through the door. Kenji was resting in her arms, leaning against her shoulder, while Yuta held Kaia. He was the next to notice Satoru. The student’s face betrayed how he felt on the inside as tears quietly streamed down his reddened cheeks, and he held on to his teacher’s baby just a bit tighter.

With every push of his wheelchair, with every step made in the direction of your hospital bed, everyone stepped out of the way, almost one by one, clearing a path.

When Yuji turned around and saw his father, he got off your bed then.

Oh, Yuji was struggling, struggling to keep his sobs as quiet as possible, struggling to keep his shaking to a minimum, and once he stepped away from your hospital bed so Satoru could have his chance to say goodbye before it was too late, several pairs of arms wrapped around Yuji. He didn’t know who it was — he couldn’t see thanks to the tears — but he hugged back one of the people who hugged him while rubbing his back soothingly.

He could tell based on the softness of their body that it was a woman. It could have been his girlfriend, Yuko. Maybe Maki. Perhaps, Aunt Jane. Or his grandma. He didn’t know. He didn’t care.

When your unconscious body came into Satoru’s line of sight, his body started to shake more violently, but . . . but he used the little strength he had to pull himself out of that wheelchair and sit by your side.

His hand graced your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin like he had done a thousand times before, and the thought of this being the last time made him wish he were dying with you.

Satoru leaned down.

Sometimes, Satoru would wander into the master bedroom and notice that you were fast asleep. A mischievous smirk would appear on his face at the sight of his cute wife and her gentle snores, and he’d sneakily approach your bedside, lean down, and kiss your lips.

Now, he pressed his lips against yours, and much like during your slumber, your lips didn’t move against his. However, during those times, they were still plump. Still warm with life.

But now? Now, it felt like he was kissing a corpse.

Your body jolted.

For a moment, Maya thought she was witnessing one of her favorite fairytales come to life! The prince kisses the sleeping princess, she awakens, and they live happily ever after!

But though you were moving, your eyes were still closed.

Your body rapidly jerked, the nearby machines started beeping with great urgency, and she was being pulled off the bed by Uncle Kento, meanwhile, her father was calling for you as he too was pulled away.

Maya was being rushed out of the room, but she saw the strange people in those blue clothes surround you, and heard a word being repeated over and over again: seizure.

—

Two hours had passed.

You hadn’t yet passed on. Not yet. That surprised no one, as you wouldn’t be you if you weren’t fighting like hell to stay alive.

But there was no suffering worse than the waiting.

Two hours turned to three, then four. During which, people filtered in and out of both your hospital room and the waiting room.

Satoru, however, didn’t leave your side. His head didn’t so much as flinch in a different direction. His hand never let go of yours.

“I couldn’t convince him to come back inside. I’m sorry.”

That voice belonged to Maki.

She had been outside for the last fifteen minutes, trying her hardest to convince Megumi to return to your hospital room.

Yuji, who was sitting on the edge of your bed, turned his head to the side to glance at Satoru. His father was in his own world, though.

“I’ll try,” Yuji mumbled weakly.

“Yuji, are you sure?” Kento, who had now taken off his jacket and had one of the twins in his arms, raised his eyebrows. Everyone knew what his four worlds really meant. Are you sure you want to risk not being by her side when she goes?

“I won’t be long.” Yuji was on his feet.

He reached out, touching Satoru’s shoulder.

The man didn’t react to his touch. That world of his was all-consuming.

And with that, Yuji sought out the nearest exit and stepped into the fading darkness.

Megumi was sitting on a bench right outside the hospital doors. The distant streetlights did little to illuminate him or the path Yuji took to the bench. The teenager sat down beside his brother, and for a moment, they were silent.

“You need to be there,” Yuji said softly. “She’d want you to be there.”

“You’re wrong. She’d want us as far away as possible so we don’t have to see her this way.” Megumi’s voice was barely above a whisper. “You forget, I’ve known her since I was seven.”

“Don’t do this now, Megumi.”

“Do what? Tell you that I was right? That something bad was bound to happen soon enough?”

“Hey,” Yuji’s jaw trembled. “She’s still alive. She could still-”

“She won’t. You’re thinking like a goddamn child.” “You’re just like Maya. You think she’ll magically wake up. You’re the one who needs to wake up, Yuji. Nothing good ever lasts long. I told you that. Repeatedly. If you had listened to me, then you would’ve been prepared for . . . prepared for this.”

Megumi leaned over, his elbow pressing into his knee. There was some sort of odd noise that escaped him. Yuji couldn’t quite tell if it was a cry or if he was on the verge of puking again.

“Satoru won’t recover from this. He won’t. None of you will. But me? I’ll be . . . just fine. I knew better than to think that our happy family would . . . that our . . .”

Yuji was quite certain now that he was crying. As his shoulders trembled, his nails dug into the skin of his hands.

Yuji leaned forward and wrapped an arm around his brother. Yuji was, once again, crying as well; it surprised him, as he was certain that, by now, he would have run out of tears.

“Come back inside, okay? You need us and we need you. You might be right about her not wanting us to witness this, I don’t know. But we both know that, deep down, she needs us.”

—

Night turned to day.

As time drifted on and became one, long, miserable existence, Satoru could hear voices around him, speaking to you, speaking to him, speaking to others.

“Momma? It’s Yuji, again. The day I met you was one of the best days of my life. We had only known each other for forty minutes, and already, I knew what it felt like to be loved by a mother, ya know? Thank you for adopting me. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for . . . for everything. I love you, Momma.”

“I’m here too, Mom. I’m sorry I left earlier, but I’m here now. I just wanted to say that . . . I regret not letting you hug me more often. I regret taking so long to acknowledge you as my mother. I hope you know I appreciate everything you’ve ever done for me. I hope it’s not too late for me to finally tell you that I love you. But I’ll always regret not saying it sooner. I’m sorry.”

“Mrs. Gojo, it’s Nobara. Thank you for everything. All of the meals, shopping sprees, fixing holes in my uniform so I didn’t have to buy a new one . . . you’re an amazing woman. I wish you were my mom too, if I’m being honest here.”

“It’s Kento. Thank you for almost fifteen years of friendship. Thank you for making me a member of your family. I promise I’ll watch over them.”

The goodbyes were endless. Satoru heard every single one as he sat by your side, his eyes studying your face, his hand stroking your cheek.

Then, people started speaking to him.

“Satoru, you should try to eat something.”

“I’m going to set this water down right here, Mr. Gojo. We can bring food from the cafeteria up to your family.”

“Satoru, do you need to stretch, or use the bathroom?”

“Satoru?”

—

Day turned to night.

There was this dangerous amount of hope trying to sneak its way into the hearts of everyone waiting for what might have been the inevitable end.

After all, it had been almost twenty-four hours since the doctor inaccurately predicted your impending demise, and you were still hanging on. Still breathing. Still fighting.

The doctor informed everyone that there had been a slight improvement in your overall health, but he chose his words carefully — the last thing he wanted was to spread misplaced optimism. But he was confident that you weren’t going to cross the line from this world and into the afterlife tonight.

A lot of people went home then to tend to their needs. To shower, to sleep, to eat. The twins and Maya were taken to your house, being watched over by their aunt, but Yuji, Megumi, and Satoru refused to leave your side for longer than five minutes.

“Here,” Kento passed the two boys sitting in the chairs of your hospital room two sandwiches wrapped in foil.

They didn’t take it at first.

“Please, try to eat,” Kento said urgently, yet gently. “You need to eat something. You need to try.”

They took the sandwiches with great hesitation then.

Kento then approached Satoru.

“Satoru, you need to let us help you. You haven’t moved in a long, long time.”

There was a noise so quiet, Satoru wasn’t certain if it was a machine beeping or Satoru saying, “No.”

“Satoru-”

“No.” His voice was raspy. “Told her I’ll be right here. I’m not moving.”

“You can stay right here and still eat or drink something.”

“My wife is dying, Kento. I don’t give a damn about myself right now. I’m not doing anything. I don’t fucking care about what I might need.” Satoru took hold of your hand.

Kento sighed. He couldn’t help it. But even so, he stepped away. If it came down to it, he’d force some broth down Satoru’s throat later on, somehow, someway.

“Baby,” he croaked out. “I’m right here . . . I’m right here, baby. You’re not alone. I know you’re tired, sweetheart . . . I know. If-If you need to rest, it’s okay. I won’t . . . I . . . I love you so much, sweetheart. I’m not leaving your side.”

Aside from saying that he loved you, aside from promising to never leave your side, there was not one part of Satoru’s soul that believed what he was saying. He didn’t want you to leave him. He didn’t want to say goodbye. But, he also didn’t want you to die with the guilt and burden of knowing he was begging you to stay, and you couldn’t.

“I always say that . . . that we’re soulmates in every lifetime, remember?” His tears splattered onto your oxygen tube. “Wait for me. You’ll wait for me, won’t you, sweetheart?”

Satoru had been sitting still without any substantial food, water to quench his thirst, or decent amounts of sleep for quite some time. Therefore, he was certain he was hallucinating when he felt you squeeze his hand.

Your dry lips parted.

“‘Toru . . . ‘Toru . . . Sa . . . ‘Toru . . . eat.”

“Oh my god,” Satoru brought his ear to your lips, trembling as his tears started to slide sideways across his face. He was right. He was right! You were trying to speak. “Oh my god. Baby, can you hear me? Can you? Oh my god. Oh my god.”

“No, no, no. What’s wrong? What happened?” Yuji asked, his nibbled sandwich hitting the floor and spewing lettuce across it, and he rushed over with Megumi.

The boys feared the worst.

Naturally.

But when they made their way to your bedside as nurses started to flood in, they saw it.

The slight flutter of your eyelids.

They heard it.

The barely audible mumbles.

“Eat, ‘Toru . . . eat.”

—

The recovery of your mind, body, and soul was a miracle.

There was no other word to describe the event in which a person walks away from death itself.

When your eyes opened fully, Satoru fainted. Your two boys sobbed — this time, it was tears of joy — and they watched as the excited, albeit confused, medical staff tended to your needs.

Two hours later, Satoru had been unhooked from the IV the nurses had to force into his veins due to his severe dehydration and shock, and you had started to regain the ability to fully talk, open your eyes, and grasp the situation before you.

You blinked away your blurry vision as a nurse raised your bed a bit. Right before you was Satoru’s tear-soaked face.

“You’re alive,” he smiled tearfully, cupping your face. He smashed his wet lips against yours. They were warm with life yet again. “You’re alive. You lived. My baby fucking lived. I love you so much, do you understand me? I can’t believe it. I can’t.”

“Did . . . did you eat . . . did you eat something?” You asked weakly, your sunken eyes filled with concern.

Satoru shook his head in disbelief. “Sweetheart, please worry about yourself for once. I almost lost you, baby. I . . . oh my god. I almost lost you.”

Yuji and Megumi couldn’t wait any longer.

Yuji slung himself across you, rougher than he intended to, hugging you tight with his shaking limbs.

“Momma . . . thank goodness,” he cried.

“Be careful with her, Yuji,” Kento warned, but he couldn't help but let a couple of tears fall. “I’m going to call everyone and let them know.”

Megumi had to practically grip Yuji’s shoulders and pull him off of you, but not necessarily because he was practically crushing your weak body, but because Megumi needed to do something he hated himself for not doing enough. He needed to hug you.

Seeing that crying teenager take over Yuji’s spot, lean forward, and wrap his arms around you truly helped you grasp the reality of your situation.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I love you, Mom. I do. I swear I do.”

“I wasn’t done hugging her, Megumi!” Yuji tried to pull his brother away, but the dark-haired boy fought to keep his spot, ignoring him.

“‘m sorry for . . . scaring . . . scaring all of . . . you,” you mumbled, gently rubbing Megumi’s back. “Where’s . . . my little girl? . . . My babies?”

“They’re on the way,” Kento walked over, his phone in hand. He gave you a warm smile. “You are truly a fighter, Mrs. Gojo.”

Satoru had suddenly kissed you again, taking you by surprise, so much so that your oxygen tube almost fell out of your nose, and his tears started to wet your cheeks as well. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours and pressed a quick kiss against your cheek. “I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.”

—

You had to be transferred to a bigger hospital room with an enormous hospital bed. It was all because your sons, your husband, and Maya all wanted to cling to your side and never let you go, and your relatives, friends, and Satoru’s students practically camped out in your room over the next several days.

Kaia was lying on your chest, babbling as she placed her hand on your cheek. Meanwhile, Kenji was gripping your hair, falling against you as he tried to bite it.

“Mrs. Gojo?” Yuta called out, approaching your bedside with Toge by his side.

“Hm?” You gave them a tired smile.

“The other students and I were wondering if, well, whenever you had the energy, if we could-”

“If we could treat you and Satoru to the best dinner of your lives!” Nobara interrupted, practically bouncing with excitement as she reached for your hand.

“No, no, you guys don’t have to do that.”

“You almost died. We’re not taking no for an answer,” Maki said, standing near the foot of your bed. “Let us do something nice for you for once.”

You gave them a little nod, and the students cheered, though in truth, they had much more than a dinner planned. A dinner was part of it, yes, but they would also buy you tickets to a play you’ve been wanting to see according to Satoru, along with whatever else they could brainstorm and afford after adding up their money.

—

There was a party that began early in the day and lasted well into the night once you returned home.

There was more food than your refrigerator could hold, more gifts than you had room for despite the massive size of your home, and more love and affection than your heart could handle.

After everyone left, urging you to rest, you found yourself tucking Maya into her bed.

“Teeth brushed?” You asked.

“Uh-huh!”

“All clean?”

“Yep!”

“Tummy full?”

“Yep! Yep!”

“Stuffed animals kissed?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Ready to sleep?”

“No, nuh-uh,” the young girl shook her head. “I wanna stay up some more.”

“No, it’s well past your bedtime, honey.” You planted a kiss on her forehead. “Good night.”

“Night night, mommy. I love you very, very, very much.”

“I love you very, very, very, very much as well.”

You rose to your feet and left her room, but you didn’t make it far. Your two boys were standing in the hallway. Yuji approached first, wrapping his arms around you.

“Goodnight, momma. Love you,” he smiled softly.

“Goodnight, I love you more.”

It was Megumi’s turn then. His hug was more gentle than Yuji’s, but it lasted just as long.

“Goodnight Megumi. I love you,” you rubbed his back.

“I love you too, Mom,” Megumi mumbled. Pulling away, he said, “Goodnight.”

Your boys started to head to their rooms. Suddenly, Yuji paused.

“Oh! Uh, Dad asked for you to meet him in the living room,” Yuji said with a small smile.

—

You noticed the dancing flames across the walls before you fully stepped into the living room and noticed all of the candles.

The couches had been moved, and softly, gentle romance music played from a speaker — loud enough for you to hear it, but low enough for it not to disturb the children.

Satoru extended his hand to you, a gentle smile upon his face. “If you aren’t too tired, I’d love to dance with you.”

“Lucky for you, I feel just fine.” You placed your hand into his, your smile matching his own.

Your husband pulled you close, and slowly, you both began to spin and sway around the living room.

“Satoru?”

“Hm?”

“Be honest with me. Does a small part of you regret marrying someone who has done nothing except cause you grief and make you worry?” You looked into his eyes, searching his blue ones for answers to the question you asked with great hesitance. “I survived, but . . .”

“And that’s all that matters. You survived. You mean everything to me, so yeah, I get worried sick when something happens to you, but I think it’s an amazing privilege to love someone this much. It’s all too rare in this world.” Satoru kissed the top of your head. “There isn’t any part of me that regrets falling in love with you, marrying you, and having kids with you, and I never will.”

“I must admit, it’s kinda nice to be spoiled like this,” you said.

“Yeah? Well, I’ll even watch Titanic with you again. How does that sound?” Satoru made you twirl, and jokingly, he twirled as well, his heart skipping a beat at the sound of your laughter as he pulled you closer yet again.

“No thanks, we just went through our own tragic romance for a minute there,” gazing up at him, you continued, “I’ll settle for your awful movie picks for now.”

“What about my taste in music? Do you like this song?”

You listened to the beautiful melody for a moment. The song itself was rather familiar, and you smiled wholeheartedly as sweet memories of your wedding came flooding back to you.

“You know I do. It’s from our wedding.”

“I still can’t believe I actually married you sometimes. I love you more than you know.” Satoru grinned with satisfaction. He then captured your lips in a long, soft, and passionate kiss.

And as the song came to an end, you rested your head against your husband, and he held you, the love of his life, letting your warm body serve as a reminder that you were still alive.

You were still with him.

🏷️: @marvel-girl3 @goldenglow149 @luaqsv @sstoru @pinkfemdolly @satorusgummies @therealmrsgojo @leehriie @iminlovewqr0w @odessa-is-my-queen @melodycelos @stoneaf @dreamypirate @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @starlightanyaaa @arrozyfrijoles23 @yukiyaaaa @thaisszz55

[spearofheaven]

name your favorite fic from each of your mutuals

phew okay here we go 🥸 each author has their own warnings so just make sure to check those out :p

jesus, what’s a girl got to do? multi character series by @muliwamm i really enjoy boxer toji and swimmer guru (clearly) but there’s something there for everybody :3

release date by @riveredmoon i would eat phy’s ass until my jaw went slack after this fic, i loved nasty toji in this 🙏

soak operas by @aquasoftware i mentioned this one before and i will mention it until i’m in my deathbed, i love house husband suguru. the attention to detail FUCK

billion dollar man by @emphistic coping with the shitshow of the american government by reading ab sukuna being prez ❤️‍🩹 em built this series up so beautifully and the smut>> (get a spare change of panties)

heaven is a bedroom by @prosypepper cried a little bit and then nutted, 10/10

lightning strikes twice by @lazyjellyfish300 you can really feel the love that she has towards nanami in each and every one of her fics, but i LOVE a yearner>>

the art of giving head?! by @satocidal brat tamer geto brat tamer geto brat tamer geto

be subtle suguru!! by @sugurusladyknightt i too need geto to kiss me silly against a wall

busy woman! by @themindofachronicdaydreamer a cute smau series between actor gojo and singer reader, the perfect mix of humor and yearning tbh

microbusero toji by @fushigogo #needhim canelita makes him so nasty i love it

well that didn’t go as planned! by @naammiii close proximity + geto? i creamed

friends with benefits by @nanamisbbygirl i shared this one before but emotionally repressed suguru’s my favorite thing, honey did such a good job w this series

the art of love criminology by @coffee-and-geto i absolutely loved the offputting and dark academia vibes from this series and the slow build up towards them having a relationship 🙏

not so innocent reader by @v1x3n reader’s so real in this, my fingers were digging in the sheets

semi charmed life by @ludrift i love the overall vibes of this fic, it’s so well written and i can’t wait to see more <3

blow me (one last kiss) by @starmapz i would get every line from this tattooed in my eyelids so it’s the only thing i could see

triple threat by @roses-moonlight my man suguru gets slimed in this but toji and sukuna at the same time 🗣️

gimme some sugar (mama) by @satorus-princess the whole dynamic between them was SAUR hot, satoru sugar baby supremacy ngl

geto jerking off by @bluukive ugh he’s so angelic and pretty in this i need him in my bedroom (and in me!)

under the sea by @carnalcrows (x male reader) nik has such a beautiful way with describing the setting and describing feelings, it’s just so raw, definitely do recommend reading his movie-inspired fics if you’re into that

laws of magnetism by @hiraethwrote the emotion in this was just beautifully well written, hit a lil close to home so i started bawling LMAO

i know it’s pathetic but that was the greatest night of my life by @lily-bisque everybody cheer for the loser! kuna agenda

faking it by @indiewritesxoxo reader is me, i am reader. i absolutely love her in this, i need to give her a big ol’ hug. and the complexity of their relationships is just chefs kiss.

false heaven by @nialovessatoru i used to be a huge mythology nerd LOL, i’m eating this series up for dinner it’s so well written

third time’s the charm by @chososcamgirl smau series, iya’s humor and the ability to make the story flow so naturally is unmatched>>

cleared for entry by @karvokr need him to put his cock in my cockpit!

push to pass by @junuru yearning f1 nanami has my heart, i would get this fic injected in my bloodstream

twos by @bowtiepasta soft domestic toji turns me into mush every single time

hey, emo boy! by @shokocide another fanfic i need to get injected in my bloodstream, i loved how soft this was :3

like he got a collar on, imma always know where my dog at! by @getouyuri you will have to rip obsessed sub husband satoru from my cold dead hands.

¡feliz cumpleaños nanami! by @princesa-querida reader was so cute in this + food as a love language is top tier

hot n’ cold by @cookiieduh once again, i love emotionally repressed suguru. he was so nasty in this, i hate him and i love him 😣

his one regret by @satoruined i wake up in a cold sweat thinking about this one

act like you love me by @fayerie if i ever say no to a fake dating au, call the police because it’s not me. so good already.

stained by you by @lafleurperdue so sensual and soft and beautiful i wanna get it painted on me (heh.. get it?)

lonely hearts canyon by @sukunahs the most helpful tour guide ever 🤞 (this was so hottt + cocky sukuna)

tear in my heart by @bloodb3nders so promising already, i love the buildup and the setting descriptions, can’t wait for more!

piercer sukuna by @bistrocatxx my legs spread open w every tattooist/piercer fic that gets put out, this was too good

being shoko and suguru’s girlfriend by @madamechrissy fucking 2 bad bitches at the same damn time 🗣️ chrissy does such a good job w writing smut and having me clench my thighs tg, it’s unreal

high and horny by @caffine-exe i too need to get stuffed by two pretty best friends with a big dick 💔 so so good

first love/late spring by @throatgoatgeto defection! suguru series, i’ve just started reading it but it’s so good already i love the relationships 🤞

[weishenbwi]

for me, it was:

You have to continue this. It's the most peculiar story I've ever read, lowkey fed on it. I have re-read it so many times I can sing it! Please make a sequel or new chapter of this!

EXO

A Lesson Learned

This is disturbingly good - like a terrible accident you can't look away from 😲 I'm nervous thinking about what's going to happen to the boys in next update!!

A New Song

it's so wrong yet so...fulfilling at the same time?? i haven't seen a fic take a risk like this so..props to u queen!!

fuck the G-man i love sinning! CMONNNNNN

I’m here to sin with you 🙏🏼

Yahhh!! So intense!! I can barely watch movies like this so the visuals I'm getting from reading are making me shudder plus it's happening to my boys!! Why do I want to keep reading!!

FUCKING HELL. I HAVE JUST FOUND THIS AND READ IT ALL IN ONE GO AND WAS SWEATING LIKE MAD FROM HOW GOOD THIS IS TO REACH THAT CLIFFHANGER. IDK WHAT ELSE TO SAY BUT THIS ONE IS DEF UP UP UP THERE IN THE BEST EXO SMUTTY FIC LIST AND ITS CHANCHEN!!!! I MIGHT CRY. THE WAY YOU WRITE THEIR THOUGHTS AND DESIRE IS UNMATCHED. WHATEVER CHANYEOL FELT, I FELT. I CANT BELIEVE I CAN GET BLUEBALLED BY A FIC LMAO….. I HOPE WE CAN SEE CHAPTER 5 SOON (not in demanding way of saying this, I’m just being needy 😭🤧🤧)

PLEASSSSSE THIS IS LIKE THE BEST CHANDAE FANFIC I HAVE SEEN 😭😭 when is the chapter 5 coming i'm so excited !!! <3 u're amazing !

Omg, your writing is so good😩😍😍 please finish and upload chapter five or I can't die in peace😭😭💗

Altschmerz (EXO)

Such lyrical words and moving descriptions for some fxxked up shit author-nim - but I want to read more👀

BTS

A Lesson Learned (BTS)

I don't know why Jeongguk being such a possessive and eager puppy in heat for Taehyung is so fucking hot lmao

This is such a hidden gem <3

Love love love it. This makes my skin crawl in the best way!

This is one of the best fics I've read on a03 hand down🙌🙌

This is so orginal and well written. I cant wait to see where this goes :) I love it! So horrible but so good 🖤

Oh... My god........ Idk what to say. Its beyond perfect. Its. Sickeningly perfect???? I want to take Tae into my arms oh god. Oh god. 

...its so mindblowingly sick and good. Omg... I. 

Altschmerz (BTS)

THIS IS SO FUCKINH BEAUTIFUL GODD YOU WRITE FUCKING BRILLIANTLY OMGGG😭😭😭😭😭

oh wow how have i not come across this earlier... this is just right up my alley and it really is just. Wonderful. Perfect. Beusitfully written. i'm in awe. the elaborate characterization.... SOCIOPATH JK......... and taehyung turning absolutely pliant at the end........... i will have this fic embedded into my brain i refuse to think abt anything else anymore (and i may sound composed but i have lost my mind and also my ability to comment properly it seems) but thank you for this masterpiece i will probably be hitting 100 visits within 48 hours

HOW DO YOU WRITE THIS GOOD HOW??????? PLS PLS PLS CONTINUE THIS IM BEGGING YOU

Truth or Dare, Noona?

Jesus Christ...you build anticipation so well and I'm just dying over the noona thing! (This concept is my life and my religion, thank you, you wonderful bean)

Nementia (series)

I'm totally blown away by your writing. It's just incredible. Just wow.

That was so moving and terribly sad, I want to cry and hug you.

This is the most beautiful thing I've ever read. There's so much emotion in it I felt everything as if I was living the situation. And Yoongi is so fucking broken I'm in awe, fuck. I don't know why but I have a fascination with fucked up things (and many of Yoongi's own fascinations too) and this is so beautifully written I just- I don't know how to put what I'm feeling into words because it's just /so/ much sjsksjsksjsks You did an amazing work and I hope you'll continue this series because I'm weak for it and for such a beautifully broken Yoongi. Have a nice day/night and stay safe! ♡

This is beautifully written, and I think you deserve some credit for the way you describe BPD. I have read part 2 too already and it portrays pretty well how I feel too. Kudos!!

This hit very close to home and I am stunned how well you were able to describe how it is to live with this feelings. I hope you'll be able to continue this series. It's really great!

Holy shit. Holy shit. It was like reading my own journal. I keep writing and rewriting this comment bc I don't even know how to express how much this hit me. You're an incredible writer, and I can't wait to read more of your work. Just wow.

Fuuucccckkkkkk. Please never stop writing. This is appalling and poetic and absolutely stunning. It’s almost nauseating but also exciting, you really know how to weave grotesque and sexuality into something delicious and depraved. 😩🥵💜

NCT

A Heavy Price to Pay

Holy shit you are such a good writer! You made my eyes tear up.

A Lesson Learned

I tried I made it to chapt 4 and I’m usually sometimes good with scary books. This is terrifying. I think I’m a sit this one out. You’re a very good writer!

All writers/artists appreciate every kind word and kudos and heart we receive but every once in a great while we get a comment that makes us want to print it out and carry it around like we’re some kind of 1940s war vet with a picture our lover in our pocket–

[navybrat817]

Hold You Tight - Part 29

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 28 | Series Masterlist | Part 30

Chapter Word Count: Almost 4k

Chapter Summary: You have a heart-to-heart with Bucky before going to the club, and you hope he keeps his word.

Chapter Warnings: Kissing, jealousy, tension, bonding of sorts, inner turmoil, world building, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight, and thank you for sticking with me! Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411 and @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-in-darkness. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You stared up at the ceiling as you soaked in the tub. It felt like you were screaming in your head, but the volume was turned down to the point where you couldn’t even hear yourself. You weren’t sure if you were still angry from Bucky breaking ties with your parents or if you were resolute in what would happen going forward. Or maybe you were still tired from everything.

It didn’t make sense. You should’ve been happy since tonight was going to be a night to take back control, something you desperately wanted. So why weren’t you smiling? Why weren’t you holding yourself high since Bucky agreed to your terms? Was the apprehension from the fact that the night was young and he hadn’t proven anything yet? The only thing he continued to prove was that he wasn’t letting you go, and he would hurt or destroy anyone who disrespected you… except for himself.

You dragged yourself from the tub after a while and checked your phone. A smile crossed your face when you saw how excited the girls were to go to the club. This night wasn’t just about you, but them, too. “The family I chose,” you whispered. The family you’d do anything to protect.

You frowned when you saw a message from Mrs. Crandle. “I know you're going through some things, so I arranged for you to have the week off. Don't worry about pay or your schedule. I have it sorted. You just let me know if you need anything.”

Your heart sank. A whole week off? You had the money, thankfully, but you wanted to do your job. You appreciated that she was looking out for you the way a good boss should. “Thank you so much. I’ll reach out if I need anything.”

Natasha’s face shimmered in your mind since you now had some unexpected time off. “Self defense lessons later this week? Please and thanks. I hope you’re doing okay.”

You wondered if you should tell her about your plans to help other women. Bucky gave you the green light and wanted to help how he could, but she would have insight and perspective that he didn’t. Would he be jealous if you sought out her opinion? Too bad if he did. This project would be yours with your rules.

“Barnes said you’d be reaching out. Send me your schedule and we’ll set up a time. And don’t worry about my well-being. I’m more concerned about you. Take care of yourself.”

You sighed, not wanting her to worry about you either. You had enough to think about. Lois, arranging the flowers for Bucky’s mom, Thor's party, the double date with Steve, the wedding, and-

“Enjoy your bath?”

You were lucky you didn't drop your phone or fall when you spun around to face Bucky. He had a smug smirk on his face as he leaned against the door. “Jesus,” you whispered, tugging the robe tighter around yourself. How long had he been standing there? “I swear you enjoy scaring me.”

“I wasn't trying to scare you. I was just watching you.”

You shivered. Bucky was always watching you in some capacity. “And you were tired of watching and wanted my attention… while I’m naked.”

His eyes flashed with lust. “You're not completely naked since you're wearing a robe.”

You felt his penetrating gaze. He wanted to see you, touch you. “Bucky, what if I never sleep with you? Would you still want me in your life?” you asked curiously. His obsession ran deep and he said he would never force you, but what if you never gave in? What then?

A thoughtful look crossed his face. “Yes, I would.”

You didn't blink. “Really?” That wasn't the answer you were expecting. 

He nodded slowly. “I haven't made it a secret that I want you physically. I dream of all the ways I’ll make you say my name and I think of how perfect you'll feel when I'm inside you. The thought of having you haunts my every waking moment in the best way,” he answered, your breath hitching when he crossed the distance to you. “But I want your heart and love. That’s what I want the most.”

He looked at your mouth only for a moment before looking into your eyes. You didn't move. Didn't speak. No matter the question, no matter the path, the man was going to choose you every time.

Because love wasn't easy or a passive feeling. It was a choice. Love was about choosing someone over and over, even when it was difficult. As he chose you, didn't he realize you had to choose him in return?

“Will you really keep your distance tonight?” you asked. 

You held your breath when his hand went to the tie of your robe, but made no move to undo it. “It’ll be very difficult, but I’m determined to prove my worth to you and that I’m a man of my word,” he replied. 

Was that his intention, or was he playing the game of luring you into a false sense of comfort? You hated it. You hated how his manipulations, his gaslighting, made you continue to question every single thing. It wasn't a way to live. 

“We both need help,” you whispered. 

“What?” he asked, but you shook your head and pulled away. The weight of everything felt heavy once again and you didn't want to face it tonight. 

“Nothing. I should get dressed,” you said. Tonight was for fun and reclaiming a part of yourself. Tomorrow you could continue to pick up the pieces of the wreckage. 

“Let me help, please,” he said, taking your hand before you could leave. “At the very least, let me put your necklace and shoes on while we talk.”

If he helped you get dressed, there was a chance he may try something. It could be another way to prove his worth and word if he behaved. “You can help with the necklace and shoes.”

He smiled and kissed the top of your hand. “You’ll be the envy of everyone at the club.”

“That’s not the point,” you said, following him to the bedroom. You wondered how far away Curtis and Ray were. “I don’t want people to envy me.” Especially when there was nothing to envy. 

He paused to gaze at you. “But they will.”

“Because I’m ‘your girl’,” you said. That made sense if people there knew you were with him.

“Because you’re you and you're beautiful,” he corrected you, staying back while you went into the closet. “I’m not looking.”

“But I know you want to,” you muttered, going through the dresses. You chose a sleek black dress, your heart weeping. A black dress was what you wore the night Bucky first spotted you in his club and led him to carving his twisted path. 

“You sure you want to be out late tonight? You have work tomorrow,” Bucky said from outside of the door. 

“Mrs. Crandle gave me the week off,” you replied. 

“That was kind of her,” he said casually, respectfully. If he had a hand in it, he covered it up well. “Would you ever consider quitting the shop?”

Your hands shook when you selected the undergarments. You had to admit they were sexy and would look good on you, which was exactly what you wanted. He’d be on his knees begging for a glimpse while you’d be lost in the world of friendship and letting loose. “You said you’d never make me give up work,” you reminded him, and you wouldn’t. 

“I only asked because if your new passion project takes off it may take a lot of your time and energy,” he said softly. 

“You’re worried that doing both will take my time away from you,” you guessed. He’d want your attention too much and wouldn’t want to share with everyone else.

He chuckled. “We’ll make time for each other. Meals together, dates, talking to each other in bed before we go to sleep,” he said. He made it sound like a dream. “Time isn't the issue. I don’t want you spread too thin.”

You almost smiled at his genuine concern. “I’ll be okay. I know my limits,” you said, stepping out once you were dressed. 

Bucky blocked your path before you could walk to the vanity. “Fuck,” he whispered, giving you a thorough look. It was the look you predicted he’d have, except hungrier when he attempted to close the difference. You felt powerful and untouchable when you held a hand up to stop him. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

“That word,” you whispered. He had you back on the pedestal. He never brought you down from it. “But thank you.”

“Will you really let me dance with you if I behave?” he asked, sounding strained. He wanted your love and heart, but it had to be pure agony having you just out of his reach. 

You shrugged and walked around him. “Maybe,” you replied, running a finger along one of the expensive bottles as you sat down. “Depends on how much fun I’m having with my friends.” 

How many of Bucky’s men would watch you tonight? At that moment you didn’t care. Let them look. Let them see that you weren’t broken. 

He groaned and went to pick out a necklace for you. “You’re going to tell Addison, aren’t you?” 

“Tell her what exactly?” you asked, taking a moment to look at your reflection. At least you didn’t look as exhausted as you previously felt.

“About your attack and the fact that you’re living with me now,” he replied.

You met his eyes in the mirror when he came up behind you and slipped the necklace on. Elegant, expensive. “Yes, I am,” you said. The second she saw you at the club, even when you’d smile, she’d sense something was off. She was your best friend and knew you too well. You owed it to her and yourself to give her at least a part of the truth of your life. “There’s already enough secrets and I don’t need to carry one more.” Even then, you couldn’t tell her what happened to your attacker since you still didn’t know. 

His lips parted, but he didn’t look too surprised. “I imagine she’ll want to speak with me,” he said, his fingers moving along your skin.

That gave you a reason to pause. How would Bucky react when faced with her? “She will,” you agreed. She wouldn’t just want to, she’d insist. “Because she cares about me.” If the roles were reversed, you’d demand to speak to Brady and make sure Addison was safe and cared for. 

“She does care about you.” He maintained eye contact when he leaned down and kissed your neck. “But no one cares about you more than I do,” he said. Sharp. Protective.

“It isn’t a contest,” you whispered. 

There was a crack in his expression. “It isn’t a contest, but I still feel like I’ve won because I have you.”

He didn’t say it like you were a prize, but you felt like a shiny trophy anyway. “You won because you rigged the system in your favor,” you said.

His jaw tightened, but his eyes remained soft. “I guess I did,” he said, turning your chair so you were no longer looking in the mirror and dropping to his knees. You remembered the reverse in your old apartment, him on his knees taking your shoes off. It seemed like so long ago. “But I haven’t really won yet since the race isn’t over.”

“What race?”

“To win your heart,” he whispered, grasping your ankle to help put your shoe on. He did so carefully like you were a work of art he was carving with his own hands. “Bookstore.”

You refused to melt under his touch. “Bookstore?” you repeated, confused. 

“In another life, I imagine us meeting in a bookstore instead of me doing what I did. I’d walk in, probably having an off day and needing something familiar and comforting, and I’d see you- smiling, beautiful, enough to make my heart stop before it started beating again,” he explained, bringing your foot up to kiss it. You shivered involuntarily. “I’d offer to buy you a book and maybe a treat to go with it. You’d say I didn’t have to do that for you, but I’d insist and you’d thank me before asking me to join you in the cafe area.”

“Us sitting and talking about our favorite books.” You didn’t want to picture it, but you could see it clearly in your mind. Bucky would’ve been dressed down instead of wearing a suit, a blue shirt to go with his eyes.  His hair would’ve been a bit of a mess and he’d offer a soft smile when he bought the book. You wouldn’t have been able to resist. 

“Yeah,” he smiled sadly, setting your foot down to grab the other. “I wouldn’t have left without getting your number and would’ve tried to wait a reasonable amount of time before reaching out.”

“I would’ve given it to you and would’ve looked forward to hearing from you,” you told him, his head lifting to gaze at you. “But that’s not what happened,” you whispered. As much as you wish things would’ve worked out that way, that wasn’t your reality. 

“Our story is… different. Unique. Messy. Because I’m a monster disguised as a king,” he said, kissing your inner ankle. “You said so yourself that I’m a monster.”

You inhaled sharply. “Bucky, I…” How could you argue with that when you had called him that? 

“A monster who has you trapped in an expensive tower, refusing to ever let you go, but hoping you’ll still flourish by my side,” he continued, kissing higher and breathing against your skin. You clenched, you ached, you couldn’t help yourself. “Maybe I can never be completely redeemed, but I can be… rewritten. Reshaped.”

You looked down at him, your eyes raw. The silence was tense as he placed another kiss on your skin, this time on your inner thigh. He touched you like he had the right, breathed your name like he owned it. “And what if you can’t?” you asked. 

There wasn’t doubt in your tone, but Bucky was surrounded by people who fed the monster within and encouraged him to be the worst version of himself. Curtis and Natasha weren’t as bad as the others as they only gave him scraps and Ray did what he could, but you were the only one who seemed to soothe the beast. Was that power or just an unhealthy reliance?

His mouth didn’t move any higher, but you put your foot to his chest anyway to push him back. “If anyone has the capacity to love a monster, it’s you.”

“You think too much of me,” you said. He asked too much of you, too. “I’m trying to heal,” you added. From Clark, from Bucky, too. All of it. 

He didn’t appear deterred. “Thinking too much of you doesn’t mean you won’t love me. And you heal as loudly or quietly as you need to. No one can tell you how to process it, especially me.”

Something in your chest twisted when he got to his feet. “I just wish you didn’t have to crawl into the cracks of my life to bring us here,” you told him. He shouldn’t have had to rearrange your world to get you.

His breath caught when he opened his mouth. “But you crawled into the cracks of my life and made me whole. How can I go back to who I was before that?”

He left, leaving something hollow in his absence. The necklace and dress suddenly felt too tight. You felt like you’d burst out of your skin. You refused because you wouldn’t let yourself shatter. He wouldn’t have control over you. 

Not tonight.

The drive to the club passed in quiet solitude. Ray and Curtis hardly spoke a word to you once you left the bedroom, but you felt their focus on you just the same. Bucky didn’t say much either, but he didn’t need to. His presence would linger long after he let you be. 

He had given you an olive branch on the way out the door- He set up a visit for you and Lois tomorrow. You hadn’t expected him to arrange it, but you shouldn’t have been surprised. He knew how much you wanted to see with your own eyes what condition she was in. You also wanted to assure her that Clark would never harm her again. Could you do that without revealing Bucky’s hand in it?

“Your friends arrived,” Bucky said, chuckling at his phone as you checked yours. Bucky had wanted you to arrive minutes after them, maybe so he could have a bit more time with you to himself. “And apparently Dana asked if Hal could be their personal bartender.”

You didn’t mean to laugh, but it came out anyway. You had a feeling Hal would eat that up. Not to mention Dana was harmless since she’d never cheat. She just appreciated a good looking man when she saw one. “Since I’m in charge tonight, I’d love for Hal to be our personal bartender.”

Bucky’s jaw ticked, but that stopped the moment you ran your fingers through his hair. “Kotyonok, that’s not fair. I know the bastard will flirt with you.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” you teased, watching him close his eyes and breathe deeply. “Hal won’t flirt,” you said, not believing your own lie. “Plus I trust him to take care of my friends and me.”

Hal had defended you when John snapped at you at the bar and took his job seriously. He seemed decent. Well, as decent as anyone working for Bucky could be.

“Fine, but I’m docking his pay if he throws his shirt at you,” he said, a small smirk on his face.

You tugged the strands and received a pleased groan in response. “You will not dock his pay,” you said. Bucky said he gave Hal a raise after the John incident, but you weren’t sure what his paycheck was and you understood the struggle of budgeting and being careful with your funds.

“Fine,” he said again. You were relieved at that. “Only because you said so.” 

The bass thrummed through the car when it stopped in front of the club, a living and breathing entity. It was a bit ironic that you were willingly going there to take back control when you wanted nothing to do with the place the first time he brought you there. You had wanted to be invisible, to not be noticed. This time you painted the target on yourself for the man beside you.

“Curtis? You’ll stay close, right?” you called out when the partition rolled down. You put a hand on Bucky’s thigh when he growled and tried not to feel worried that he may fire him. Did Bucky fire people or did he make them disappear?

Curtis looked behind him and paid Bucky no mind. “I’ll keep handsy guys away if that’s what you’re asking for.”

“Jax and Ari can handle that,” Bucky said, his voice icy. 

“And so can Curtis,” you said. What was he jealous of? You were fond of Ray and the reactions were nothing like this. “He’s my bodyguard. Don’t forget that.”

Bucky forced a smile, cruel and bitter. “He may be your bodyguard and I may have been the one to suggest it, but I know he has blood on his hands that won't ever go away.”

Curtis didn’t flinch, but something passed over his eyes. You felt the need to defend him because Bucky’s hands were far from clean and it wasn’t his story to tell. “My blood isn’t on his hands and that’s what matters, so leave him alone.”

The silence that followed cut like a knife. Curtis’s exhale was audible, shaky, but he gave you a single nod. One of respect and thanks. 

Bucky’s breath out was shaky, too, but he gazed at you with respect, too, when he turned your face away from your bodyguard. “You’re right,” he whispered, kissing you softly. Not forceful, but certain. Gentle and assured. “I’m sorry I let jealousy get the better of me.”

So he admitted that he's jealous of Curtis. “It’s easier said than done, but there’s nothing to be jealous of,” you said in the space between you. It wasn’t like Curtis wanted you. Even if he did, nothing would come about with him or any other man for that matter. “Trust me.”

His mouth was on yours again, deeper but slow. “I do trust you,” he said once he pulled away. “I just… hate that he gets to be close to you tonight while I’m out of reach.”

Reverence and desire showed in Bucky’s eyes. He wanted so desperately to be in your orbit and he’d be tested once you walked through the doors. “You’ll only be out of reach until I offer my hand,” you said. 

He sighed, but nodded. “And I’ll be waiting to take it,” he said, helping you out.

As Bucky led you inside with Curtis not too far behind, the vibrant chaos of the lights, laughter, and sin washed over you. Bucky kept a hand on your lower back, his grip a bit looser than usual. It was almost respectful. Almost. 

Jax spotted you immediately and winked. You winked back and walked with purpose, carrying your invisible wounds and previous insecurities like badges of honor. Bucky held himself like a man who had everything. And he did, didn’t he?

“I still can’t meet her yet?” you asked when Bucky swept you past the coat check. Or maybe Steve’s girl had the night off. 

“Double date,” he reminded you. 

“That’s right,” you muttered. Another piece in the jagged price of his love. 

Bucky nodded and smiled at a few people, keeping you tucked in at his side. “Go to your friends,” he encouraged, his lips grazing yours when you faced him. “If they ask why I haven’t stopped by, you can tell them I have business to attend to first.”

You craned your head toward the VIP section and smiled when the girls spotted you and waved excitedly. “And you’ll only join when I say so?” You met Bucky's gaze and a silent challenge passed between you before he smiled. 

“You said ‘when’ and not ‘if’,” he said. 

You faltered. Did you mean to say that? “Don’t get cocky just yet,” you warned. Depending on how the night went, he may not have a chance. “Keep your word and watch.”

There was reluctant submission from the man who never bowed to anyone. But he nodded, a king ceding his crown and part of his kingdom for the night. “I'll be watching and waiting, Kotyonok,” he promised, his gaze and aura still overwhelming even as he reluctantly released you. “But if anyone touches you, I’ll ruin them. I swear to fucking God, I’ll-”

You cut him off with a tender kiss, like he had done to you in the car earlier that day. His hands found your hips and he moved closer like the pull of gravity, but you turned your head before it could become too heated. Your rules tonight, not his. “If someone tries to touch me, someone will stop it,” you soothed him, pulling out of his grasp.

His fingers twitched, but he didn't reach out to touch you again. “Go,” he breathed, a warning to walk away so he could keep his promise. 

There was a sway in your hips as you went to join your friends. You weren’t worried. He'd be your watchful shadow while you reigned.

But shadows had ways of wrapping around the light, and you'd be in his arms before the night was over. 

I don't want to spoil things, lovelies, but things may heat up a bit in the next chapter. What do you think will happen? And the blood on Curtis's hands, what is that story? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[dating-eveeything]

HIII! This request goes for any of the dateables, your choice! but can I have some romantic hcs of the dateables having an MC who takes care of their younger sibling? (Little bonus if the MC younger sibling sees them as a parental figure) :D

Reader w/ a Sibling!

Featuring: Beverly, Celia and Florence, Dasha, Dunk, Skylar, Tyrell.

Fic type: headcanons, fluff, older sibling raises younger sibling

FUUUCK I'm a sucker for this trope!! No specific gender for reader and sibling. Sibling cannot see the objects, this is mostly just how they feel about them in gen

Pretty short of each character. Simple and sweet.

You might think that Beverly wouldn't like kids due to her running a bar, but that is far from the truth! She absolutely adores kids, and your younger sibling is not an outlier to this statement.

While she isn't able to make alcoholic drinks, she's always down to make a delicious mocktail. Quietly whispering to you which ingredients to use so it turns out perfect for them.

Seeing your younger sibling compliment how pretty her bar is (the different glass containers sparkle in the light), or how yummy the mocktail she helped you make always brightens her day.

Holds nothing but respect for you, taking care of a kid is hard if she's read anything about it. It's admirable to her how much effort you put into making sure your sibling is happy, even if it means hard work for you.

If she could actually meet your siblings, she would absolutely show them how to do cool tricks with shakers and have them try all the mocktails she knows how to make

The two seem pretty neutral on your younger sibling at first, but as time progresses it's easy to tell they love them.

When you apologize to Florence for your sibling running and stomping on her so much she just brushes it aside, saying it's fine and if anything it feels like a little massage.

Celia is a little hard to read, but through slip ups during conversations you get the hint that she thinks your sibling is a little darling.

Both of them think they're adorable, and ask you about their life outside of the house/before they came to live with you. Always they ask about how their day at school was, or how your day out with them were, asking if there's anything they could do to help you.

They love seeing you spend time with your younger sibling, even if it's just cuddling up on the couch and watching TV. That sibling bond isn't something they've ever had, and it's so adorable to them.

If they were ever able to meet your sibling, Florence would be all over them, picking them up and carrying them around sometimes. Celia would be a little less hands on, but would absolutely hold the kids hand if they asked nicely.

Neither of them would mind if the kid were to barge into the office, much like they don't mind when you do.

Dasha absolutely adores the little bugger! She thinks they are so cute, and tells you as much when she sees you!

Watches as they sit with you as you work and praises them for being so well behaved, even though they can't hear her.

When she finds out you'll be the only one watching over them, she worries for your health a little. You already take care of all the objects, are you sure a human child would be okay? But her fears are quickly put to rest after seeing how well you treat them. And how happy they make you.

She doesn't have any siblings, so she can't relate, but every time it's just your sibling in the office she can't help but worry and watch over them to make sure nothing happens. When you come back you can see her hovering just behind the kid and panicking as they play with scissors.

If she ever met your sibling, it would be a giggle fest. Her picking them up and probably never letting them go, swinging them around gently and pretending to lift them light a weight. Their happy giggles make her smile brightly.

It's no surprise to anyone that Dunk absolutely loves your younger sibling! When he found out they'd be coming to live with you he was already ecstatic for a new buddy to be around the house, even if he can't talk to them.

But the enthusiasm they showed over all the sports equipment you had? Over him? Oh he was practically jumping up and down.

He's absolutely convincing you to go out to the backyard and play ball with them, any ball! Just go and have fun with them! Let him join in on all that loving family memories.

When he watches at you and your sibling play catch, he can't help but think back to his childhood, and the way how he never got to smile like that with any of his family. It makes him really happy.

If he were to ever meet your sibling, he would spend the entire time playing games with them. Any game they want! Ball? Catch? Tag? He's down! Even silly ones like pretending to be superheroes he'd be happy to participate in, just to see them smile brightly- and in turn you smile as well.

Skylar is a little sceptical about the whole thing. I mean, what if they accidentally break an object or hurt themselves on an object? What if they get their hands on her?!

Turns out she's got nothing to worry about, as it's quick for everyone to learn how well behaved a kid they are. And suddenly all you hear from her is how cute your sibling is!

She's one of the few objects that sees your sibling the most, seeing as you almost always have her with you- on or off doesn't matter- which means she gets to see a lot of your interactions.

The bravery she sees you have with them is something that assured her you're a good person, watching you make little sacrifices a lot of people wouldn't even notice for their sake. When she tries bringing it up to you, you simply turn down her efforts and tell her you'd do it a million times over for them.

If she ever does meet your sibling, she's definitely doing something chill with them. Really she isn't good with kids, and probably won't ever be, but some good old chillaxin is something she can do! Sitting on the couch and watching TV or even just watching them and you play games would be something she would be happy to do.

It's a well known fact that he's had bad experiences with kids, watching his friends be ruined due to them (as well as neglect), but he trusts you to not let him suffer the same fate.

And it's trust well placed. While the kid is a bit messy, you're always on top to explain to them how to prevent said messes and how to clean everything up after- including how to properly wash any towels used for clean up.

He's never been put through the wash so many times in a month before, not that he minds the extra time in the laundry room. And it makes him feel a little fulfilled, being able to help you out so much.

When the kid first encounters his little buddy, he's a bit worried they'll accidentally mess him up, but that isn't the case at all. They handle little buddy with care, running to show you the cute towel in the shape of an animal. He's starting to like this kid.

If he ever meets the kid he's absolutely showing them how to shape towels into any animal they want! An elephant? A bunny? A turtle? You name it and he knows how to shape them! Watching them run off to show you the funky looking towel animal they made really sets his heart ablaze, how adorable.

[suigenerisisadiva]

We Burn, and So Do Our Worlds

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Batsis!Reader + Batfam x Batsis!Reader

Summary: After travel through an inter-dimensional gateway, you meet the Teen Team for the first time - fresh out of combat, bruised, and still three steps ahead of everyone in the room. Your intelligence throws the team off balance, and even the GDA is forced to reconsider their stance on you, a sharp, off-world wildcard. While trust slowly builds and Mark’s quiet admiration grows louder, something else is watching.

Not LexCorp. Not a hero.

But someone way worse.

CW: My love for biceps is prevalent yet again, INSANE CANON DIVERGENCE, swearing, depictions of gore, Cecil Stedman 🤢

A/N: Chat I think i'm gonna need to write a part 4 now omfg - I hope my hatred for Eve isn't so obvious lmao, guys i'm so sorry this took so long, my sister hit the curb and two of the tires of her lexus are literally flat omfg get her off the roads.

This is a part 3 of my Between Worlds, Between Us fic!

Go read Part 1! - Part 2! - Part 3!

Taglist: @silas-222 - @guacimara - @lagataprrr - @sleepygirl-inc - @trasshy-artist - @luv-isolde - @linaisadream - @cantbecreative - @riselazarus-s - @mosseetrees

my pookies - @gothicbatgirl + @dulcet-aurora + @ilona2nerrie

(Reader goes by alias Nightingale) ⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆ The flight over to headquarters wasn't as bad as you hoped. Inter-dimensional travel wasn't all that scary, considering it was you this time who jumped across the fabric of time, in the arms of your alien hero situationship, if you could even call it that, I mean, it's not like your seeing anyone else right now.

It was Mark you were more worried about when you both entered that cosmic sphincter, it genuinely looked like the entrance to the Other Mother's world in Coraline, gave you major creeps, definitely did for Mark as well, 'cuz of how tight he was holding you as you traversed through the myriad of locked gateways leading to various dimensions. Hey, not like you were complaining, your eyes, and arms were drawn to his biceps, yet again, like geez get a grip girl.

It's late at night, and you both arrived at the GDA headquarters, you observed it's location and surroundings, analysing it. Interesting, you thought, headquarters so closely mirrors the Hall of Justice, back in your world at least. It became apparent to you that there was no Justice League here, but hey, Chicago and Virginia are a whole lot cleaner than Gotham. You were curious to see what Gotham City, in all her glory, looked like in Mark's universe. Probably shittier than home, you thought, after all, Mark's universe didn't have a Batman. Damn, you forgot to tell your dad, and brothers you were fucking off to another dimension with some half alien boy you've met like twice...whatevs, they won't worry too much.

You both know there's people that recognised your presence. After Mark landed and dropped you off, your comfortable silence was broken by Mark's Team, he motioned for you to remain, so you did.

He walked out of the entrance room and towards Cecil's Monkeys (as so Nolan calls them)

It starts with Eve.

Because of course it fucking does.

“You’ve been distracted,” she says casually, inferring to the person Mark's been seeing, arms crossed as Mark stands beside her. “Late-night vanishing acts. Bruises that weren’t from fights we were in.”

Mark freezes. “Is this a Teen Team intervention?”

Rex snorts. “Only if it turns out you’ve been ghosting us for someone hot.”

You step out from the doors, at that exact moment, mask on, cape low, voice dry-

“He has. Hi.”

“She’s not from here,” Eve says flatly.

Dupli-Kate raises a brow. “Kinda hot, though.”

Rex stares for a second too long. “Yo. Are you like… Mark’s morally ambiguous Bat-thing girlfriend?”

Bat Thing? Seriously? You thought. You glance at Mark. He shrugs sheepishly.

“I didn’t say that. I heavily implied it.”

You roll your eyes.

“No. I’m the vigilante your mom told you not to talk to online.” That earned a snort from Kate.

Mark stepped in. “Guys, this is, Nightingale. She’s from… somewhere else.”

“Off-world?” Eve asked sharply, narrowing her eyes. You already disliked this bitch.

“Worse,” you muttered. “Off-dimension.”

They stared. Hard

You didn’t flinch.

Eve asked the smart questions.

“How long have you been here?” She asked

“Half an hour at most, to be honest, that's a question you should ask Invinciboy over there, he rocks up to my universe every other day.” That shut her up for a sec.

“Are you trying to get back?”

“I know the way back girl."

“Are you a threat?”

“That depends. Are you going to try and dissect me?”

“…no?”

“Then probably not.”

You finally straightened, eyes flicking across the team, calculating and precise. Your gaze caught on the scorched GDA tracker you’d yanked off one of the crates.

“This tech’s not from your world. Well, it is, but it's been sourced from mine, It’s coded in a double-encryption structure your satellites don’t even register yet. That means someone either came through the breach into my world before you did, or they’re siphoning inter-dimensional knowledge, illegally.” You emphasised that last part, the cogs in your head already turning at what kind of person has this technology. Wondering if it was the person watching you guys earlier.

You dropped the chip in Mark’s palm.

“Your problem now.”

Eve blinked. “How the hell do you know all this?”

“I built a backdoor into my dimension’s version of the Justice League’s quantum server farm when I was fourteen. This is amateur hour.”

Kate let out a low whistle.

Rex muttered under his breath, “Okay, now I wanna marry her.”

Mark didn’t even bother hiding his smirk.

“Told you she was different.”

Cecil rewinds the battle footage three times. Not because he doubts what he’s seeing- but because he’s not sure how someone so unknown could already be so dangerous and so useful.

You’re a walking anomaly. Too smart. Too fast. Too confident.

And yet, you didn’t kill. You fought like someone who’d trained in pain but chose control. You led like someone who didn’t need the spotlight. And you trusted Mark.

That last one was most suspicious of all.

The monitor flickers.

The footage from the rooftop, courtesy of a ReAniman, who observed everything, replays again. And again. And again. Slowed to half-speed. Then quarter.

A shot of your hand brushing Mark’s. The moment your smile cracked something in him. The way you moved. Fought. Laughed.

You were perfect.

Through the lens of his ReAnimen, you were just another thing to be observed. But through the distorted eyes of D.A Sinclair, you were so much more than that.

“Subject 11-06: fully integrated,” the voice mutters. “Tactical grace. Neural dexterity. High intellectual acuity. Genetic resilience.”

Behind him. a half-assembled corpse. Limbs twitching. One eye socket still wet. Jaw unhinged a horrifically disturbing distance from the maxilla.

D.A. Sinclair, face pale and glinting with obsession, scribbles notes into a cracked journal.

“She’s not from this world,” he says to no one. (Like anyone gives a shit about what this guy says after what he did to Rick bsfr)

“But she will belong to it. Or at least… her parts will.”

Hope you all enjoyed this! Likes, comments, reblogs and requests are highly appreciated! Requests are open!

Sources! -

Dividers - @omi-resources

Icon Header - @parkons

Property of suigenerisisadiva, do not repost my work pls & ty!

[riveredmoon]

wanna check out some of my favorites?

body paint by @spearofheaven

honestly i want to say every fic of hers, but let me calm down. this one is possibly one of my favorite suguru fics ever — i come back to it often. and it lowkey inspired me to even start writing for our sugurito!! daya has a ton of other suguru fics (and now a toji series) that are literally gold!

high and horny by @caffine-exe

ciggy writes poly satoru and suguru perfectly!!! this flowed so beautifully and the smut was literally perfect perfect perfect. ciggy’s pegging world domination!!!!!!

get on that train, baby by @shotosjupiter

literally so beautifully written. i have quotes in my google docs from this that i just go back to read over because it was that beautiful! jupiter is also just incredibly lovely and i love them <3

psychic lover by @bluukive

honestly, one of the most creative things i’ve read! the premise is different and the flow between toji and reader was fun to read!!! luu also makes the funniest jjk smaus!!!

shiu drabble by @dog-bimbo

literally come back to this like thrice a week.

unscripted by @karvokr

no words, honestly. the emotions, the smut, the dramaaaaa!!! i love karvo soooo much and they write absolutely beautifully. i will read this everyday over and over again.

how to seduce a neanderthal for dummies by @lily-bisque

sigh, where do i begin! bisque writes sukuna sooooooo marvelously, i get scared even creating anything for sukuna because i know it wont compare. this specific one shot kick started my sukuna brainrot! it was fun and the dynamics between the two just meant so much and ummmm, SUBKUNA!!!!! i love bisque and you’ll love her too!

bleach by @junuru

i am going to eat up husband!nanami content everytime. this was sweet and just so homey, i come back to it often. i love ivy and i love the way she writes nanami <3

satoru drabble by @sixeyesonathiel

i randomly found this and read it four times in a row. that is all i can say about this. I loved it soooo much.

growing old (pt 1) by @prosypepper

not kidding when i say this is one of my favorite kento fics ever. it was incredibly sweet and just so deserving for our kento bean. my pepper writes nanami with so much love that you could feel it through the screen. i adore this and her so much!

fcking with your ex is iconic by @letteremi

this had me at a restaurant during a family lunch giggling and smiling and GOD!!! so good, i love boyfriend kuna so much. emi is the sweetest AND writes such beautiful gojo stories, she encapsulates childhood crushes so well i feel like i am back in high school

wifeguy!nanami by @eraserbread

when i had a burner account to just read, i found elly’s page and literally spent hours just reading. her love for nanami is displayed so beautifully in the words she puts out. i adore all of these little pockets of marriage life we get with him. it makes my chest all fuzzy.

deprived by @starmapz

HUSBAND!KUNA (i just yelled)! he is a big baby in this and i just think about it often. trish creates these little worlds for sukuna that just flow and make soooo much sense. you could basically feel how much she adores writing for this guy!

gimme some sugar (mama) by @satorus-princess

hazel….. oh hazel….. this was soooo good! it was funny and smutty and it just flowed so well and like of course satoru would be a sugar baby!

soak operas by @aquasoftware

househusband!!!!!!suguru!!!!!geto!!!!!!!!! this ran in my mind for a week. my girl koi writes smut so well, i be in my room squealing LOL. i love her and her writing sooo much. if you ever need a laugh her jjk smaus are some of my favorites!

birds of a feather by @sukunahs

recently read this and honestly…. still thinking about it. i wasn’t much of a greek mythology kid growing up but this made me watch an essay video about it afterwards LOL!

baby i’m forever in love by @fayerie

bartender!geto… that’s all. but honestly faye did a beautiful job mixing angst with smut and it made me feel something. i also adore her so there’s that too!

in dreams by @hiraethwrote

this drabble stood with me for a couple hours after. it was written sooooo elegantly. truly something special!

*this would be updated as time goes by*

[fortunxa]

every few weeks the discourse circles back:

“why is everything smut now?”

“why doesn’t anyone write fluff anymore?”

“what happened to softness?”

you can’t spend your time complaining that “fluff is dying” and then scroll past the fluff that does get posted just because it doesn’t make you feral. i’ve watched my mutuals/friends—some of the most talented writers i know—post beautiful, heartfelt fics and get crickets. i know how hard they worked and how long they sat with that story or their hcs. how much love they poured in while juggling real life, mental health, burnout, school, jobs.

writers are people. people with moods. people with lives. people who love this fandom stuff so much that we sit down and spin entire worlds from our heads (for free‼️) because it brings us joy, because we like seeing others feel something from our words. but the moment it starts feeling one-sided, when we only get engagement if we’re churning out a certain kind of content, or when people treat us like vending machines that owe them a particular genre or tone—it stops feeling like a community.

“write more,” “write faster,” “write this instead.” we’re not factories. we’re fans. we post things because we care. we write what calls to us, what we’re good at, what we’re in the mood for, what inspires us. and it’s not even about the notes—it’s about the disconnect lately. writers don’t want clout; we want community. we want to feel like someone read it and it mattered.

so if you want more fluff, engage with it when it shows up—reblog it, scream in the tags, leave a single sentence in someone’s inbox. it goes a long way. writing is free, but being ignored hurts. and i see more and more of us start to wonder if it’s even worth posting at all.

this isn’t the first post about this, and it probably won’t be the last. writers have been speaking up, but no one’s listening. or worse—people see it, nod, and keep scrolling. and that also stings. not just the lack of interaction, but the fact that when we do bring it up, we’re ignored then, too. we’re not asking for the world. just a little acknowledgment.

also, notice how “why is there so much smut?” and “we want more fluff!” go hand in hand the majority of the time? quoting @sketch303: “i don't think those people actually like fluff, they just like the feeling of being superior to smut readers, showing the rise in purity culture in fandoms.” i hate to say she might be right. some people want to set themselves apart from the ���dirty smut readers,” as if enjoying or writing explicit content makes you lesser. it’s less “i miss fluff” and more “i need everyone to know i’m Not Like Those Readers™️.” what they do is treat smut writers like they’re lazy, gross, or somehow less serious and less worthy of praise.

this is exhausting.

[castielsonlyangel]

ᯓ★ˎˊ ‘sunset’

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

content: fluff!! literally just dean being utterly in love with you

pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

summary: you’re the reason dean believes there is good in the world

word count: 591

You were sat in the passenger seat of the Impala, the warm summer air blowing in from the window. Dean had one hand on the wheel and the other resting idly on your thigh. The atmosphere felt comfortable, safe. No mentions of going on a hunt, no mentions of a creature they hunted recently. It felt normal, for once.

The gravel crunched under the tires of Baby as you pulled up to the beach, the sun reflecting against the shimmering waves. Dean squeezed your thigh lightly before getting out of the car and walking around the hood of the car to get to your door, opening it rather theatrically. You giggled at the way he held his hand out for you, taking it with a grin.

“How kind of you.” You teased as he rolled his eyes and led you over to the water, watching as he bit back a smile. Dean dropped your hand to bend down and take off his boots, tossing them lazily behind him toward the car.

The water trickled in towards you, the gentle sound of the low waves fading into the background as Dean spoke up, his voice a warm welcoming sound you wished you could listen to forever. “Come in with me.” He reached his hand out towards yours, waiting for you to take it and join him.

You shook your head as you began to take off your own shoes, kicking them behind you as you reached out to hold Dean’s hand.

The next hour consisted in Dean splashing the water all over you like a child and him admiring the way you’re wet hair stuck to your face and shoulders and the way your eyes lit up every time he spoke to you. You’d both somehow ended up completely soaked, even though you’d originally planned to just dip your feet in and enjoy the sunset.

Your fingers trailed over Dean’s arm as you rested your head on his bare chest, the now chillier air being kept out by his oversized flannel around your shoulders and his arm holding you close. He ran a hand over your leg that entwined with his, swiping the sand off and back onto the floor beside you.

The sun was now setting, lighting up the ocean with an orange glow. You hummed as Dean pressed a kiss to the top of your head, pulling you ever so slightly closer. “The sunset’s beautiful.” You whispered, eyes wide as you watched it slowly sink into the water.

“Yeah. So beautiful.” Dean mumbled in agreement, his eyes trained on your face.

Dean was careful as to not to startle you as he picked you up effortlessly and carried you toward the car. You had fallen asleep watching the sunset and Dean couldn’t help but admire your peaceful expression.

He set you down in the passenger seat, his jacket and flannel wrapped around your still sea soaked body, making sure you were comfortable and secure before quietly closing the door behind you and gathering up yours and his boots, throwing them into the backseat.

He played the radio low as he drove back to the motel where Sam was waiting for them. Dean’s gaze drifted over to you more often than he would like to admit, watching how relaxed you looked.

You gave him hope that there was a future for him and that he was deserving of it. You gave him hope that not everything in the world was bad, and he clung onto it every chance he got.

‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

a/n: i lowkey feel like i’m flopping lately 😭 it’s okay though i love every single one of you that read my stuff, i love seeing people liking multiple of my posts

read more fics here ! (masterlist)

request something here !

join my taglist here !

taglist: @ambiguous-avery , @deansweetheart , @mulderssweetheart , @butterphiiss , @butterphii , @sammyslittledoll , @mostlymarvelgirl , @multiversefanfics , @lanaajunkie , @globetrotter28

[friendly-rabid-toad]

The Feels // Alessia Russo x Reader

Summary: Five times you and Alessia soft launched yourselves on social media, and one time you two hard launched your relationship.

Warnings: Maybe a tad bit of angst and a lot of tooth-rotting fluff & comfort

Word count: 7k

Note: I’m the original author of this fic. It’s one of my favorites that I’ve written, and I wanted to repost it. If you haven’t read it yet and you’re seeing this, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did :)

1. Festival Dates, Ferris Wheels, & The Feels

Sometimes, rumors were a pain in the ass. Today, however, you’d never appreciated your teams’ gossiping tendencies more. It had come to your attention during shooting drills with the one and only Katie McCabe that one of Arsenal’s latest signings, Alessia Russo, had a crush on you. Unbeknownst to anyone but Katie, it was a crush that you returned. 

You’d always been rather confident in yourself and so, with this new piece of intel, you took it upon yourself to ask Alessia out. Alessia had readily agreed, but now the stress fell onto you to figure out just where the two of you could spend a few hours getting to know each other. Yet again, you consulted the person who had gotten everything started, who also happened to be your best friend. You and Katie had spent several hours plotting for the big day, finally deciding upon what to do. You texted Alessia and told her that you’d be picking her up from her house and giving her a specific time. 

The day came along, and after you finished up team training, you came back to your apartment and showered before leaving to go pick up Alessia. On the way, you bought the gifts that you had debated (at great length, honestly) with Katie on getting, having been nervous that getting the blonde gifts on a first date would be too forward or too overwhelming for the other woman. McCabe had reassured you several times that you would be fine, however. 

While you were borderline terrified, given how things had ended with your ex-girlfriend, you still found yourself making the drive over to Alessia’s. Your last relationship hadn’t gone well, and you didn’t know if you were ready to love or to accept love again, something was always in the back of your mind nagging at you– what if you got hurt again? 

As you stood on Alessia’s front step, holding a bouquet of flowers, you noticed that your hands shook due to nerves. As you raised your hand to knock, you felt yet another wave of nerves crash over you, nearly dropping your gifts just as Alessia opened the door. Alessia poked her head out, grinning wildly at you. 

“Hey, Y/N! You look amazing.” And just like that, the nerves and all of those negative thoughts were gone. An aura of calmness radiated from the other woman, transferring over onto you, and you held out the roses for the other woman to take with a small smile. 

“Hi, Lessi. You look– gorgeous,” You nearly stumbled over your words as you took the other woman in. You’d instructed her to dress casually, and it was simply amazing how Alessia could take the words right from your mouth in just a pair of jeans paired and a simple white top. 

“Thank you. For everything, honestly– you certainly didn’t have to get me these!” She held up the flowers, taking a second to smell them as she grinned before taking a step back into her apartment. “I’m just going to put these in a vase, you’re more than welcome to come in.”

You took a step into the house, closing Alessia’s front door behind yourself as Alessia walked away to go take care of the flowers. You could have followed, but chose to take a moment to calm your racing heart, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath. To be perfectly honest, you’d been dreaming of this day ever since you’d first set eyes on the blonde forward. You’d first met her in 2021, facing off against her in your first ever WSL appearance as you played for Arsenal against Manchester City. 

You’d struggled back and forth with Alessia the entire game, as you were a defender. Arsenal had pulled away with a win, but at the end of the match you had gone up to Alessia to formally meet her, asking to exchange jerseys. That wouldn’t be the last time you’d formally speak with her, as the two of you would be matched up in several more games afterward. You’d never thought your crush would ever come to see the light of day, but here you were, standing on the welcoming mat of Alessia Russo’s apartment, waiting for her to put the bouquet you’d gifted her in a vase. 

It didn’t take long before Alessia returned to you, and by then you’d calmed yourself down enough to make conversation without stuttering over the words. As you two got to your car, and all throughout the drive to the destination you’d picked out, the two of you kept up a conversation. You talked about everything from football to your favorite breakfast foods to Lessi’s UNC days, with you wondering what the extended duration in the United States had been like. Every once in a while, Alessia would ask you where the two of you were going, but you’d always give her a teasingly inconspicuous answer. 

“You’re not secretly taking me to a scary alley and murdering me, right?” Alessia joked at one point, causing you to tilt your head towards her and waggle your eyebrows, rewarding you with Alessia’s giggles. 

Finally, the two of you arrived at the gates of a festival just as the sun was beginning to set. You paid for your tickets and spent the evening chatting with Alessia on your arm, playing festival games, eating some different foods, and sharing jokes and laughter. At one point, you ended up winning a small stuffed bear, which you immediately gifted to Alessia with a smile and a bow, yet again resulting in Alessia giggling, a noise which you were beginning to associate as the eighth wonder of the world. Nearing the end of your night, Alessia convinced you to ride the ferris wheel with her, despite your fear of heights. 

As the two of you neared the top, you couldn’t help but shift closer to Alessia, nervously taking in your distance from the ground. Noticing your slight distress, Alessia brought one of her arms around your shoulders and tugged you into her side, grabbing your hand and holding it in hers with her other arm. You looked at her with a smile, which Alessia returned. Festival music carried on in the background, a song which you faintly recognized as “The Feels” by the Labrinth playing. A small draft of wind had picked up, the heat of the woman beside you keeping you from becoming too chilled. 

“I really enjoyed tonight,” You confessed to the other woman.

“So did I, thank you for bringing me out.” Alessia said back, her breaths brushing across your cheeks due to your close proximity and causing you to blush. Your eyes wandered down to her lips before going back up to her eyes, noticing Alessia looking at your own lips. 

Your fear of heights long forgotten, your heart rate picked up for an entirely different reason as you whispered out, “I’d really like to kiss you right now,”

“Then do it.” Alessia responded, and you brought your free hand up to cup her jaw, closing your eyes as you shifted slightly and guided her lips to your own. Just at that moment, the music in the background picked up as the beat dropped, something that you only faintly picked up on as you were consumed in everything that was Alessia Russo. The kiss was impossibly soft, and the music seemed to pick up at that moment, a song which you faintly picked up on. After a few seconds, the two of you parted, and you beamed at the blue-eyed woman, and she giggled at the giddy expression on your face. Just before the two of you began to move down the ferris wheel, Alessia pulled out her phone and pulled you further into her, for another kiss, capturing the moment with a photo. Parting from you again, she took a picture of the night sky and festival terrain beneath the two of you before quickly pocketing her phone once again. 

“I wanted to capture the moment,” She explained to you, and you just laughed again, bringing her in for a quick peck as the two of you descended back towards the ground. 

Later that night, when you returned home, you opened up your phone to answer Alessia, telling her that you’d made it back to your own apartment safely. 

Opening up Instagram, you saw that Alessia had posted something on her story and opened it, seeing one of the two pictures the woman had taken on the ferris wheel on her story. It was the picture of the sky and the festival, the one that didn’t feature the two of you, which you were grateful for as part of your conversation today had been about keeping what was between the two of you private. As you continued to watch her story, you realized that there was a song playing in the background, the very same one that had played during your first kiss– “The Feels” by Labrinth. Alessia’s attention to detail, and the entire gesture of affection, brought a smile to your face. The smile lasted even as you put down your phone and laid back against your bed, falling asleep to the thoughts of your long-awaited first date with Alessia Russo. 

—--

2. First Meetings, Proud Goals, & Family Dinner

It wasn’t very often that you found yourself in the stands during football matches, but here you were, sitting beside Alessia’s family and watching your girlfriend play on the field in front of you. 

The twist? It was the first time you were formally meeting Alessia’s family without Alessia by your side. 

Having suffered a minor knee injury a few short weeks ago, you’d been unavailable for call ups for the England Lionesses. Instead of watching the match from your apartment couch, Alessia’s family had contacted you and plotted with you to surprise your girlfriend at the match. 

The two of you had been secretly dating for a few months, now, and were still going strong. While the two of you weren’t incredibly obvious, a few of your teammates were beginning to figure out the two of you were a thing. Honestly, you’d just been surprised that McCabe had been able to keep her mouth shut for so long. 

Prior to this, you’d had quick talks with each of Alessia’s parents through the phone when they facetimed or called Alessia while you happened to be there. You’d met one of Alessia’s brothers, Luca, at a match before as well, but the rest of them were completely unfamiliar to you. The entire thing was slightly unconventional, and you’d have rather had Alessia with you when you met the rest of your family, but the Russo family made the entire thing go by quite smoothly, to your surprise. 

As adorable as the entire situation was, you’d never been so nervous in your entire life, and you’d played in the World Cup! As you’d greeted Alessia’s parents and siblings outside of the stadium, you’d been surprised to be pulled into hugs by each of them. It had been a surprisingly warm welcome, making all the worrying that you’d been doing over meeting her family for the first time, alone, seem all for nought. You were sat at the end of the aisle, next to Alessia’s father, Mario, who kept nudging you to keep up a steady flow of conversation, much to your entertainment. 

All throughout the match, Alessia’s family showed you baby pictures of Less, some of which you asked them to send to you. They told you stories of Alessia as a teenager and as a child, and you felt it was only fair to share some of your own. 

At halftime, the Lionesses were up by 3. As Alessia turned to head back to the locker rooms, she looked up and caught your gaze. You saw her go through several different stages of emotions, ranging from confusion, to surprise, to absolute elation as a huge grin broke across her face and she waved to you eagerly. You waved back, nudging Mario, who was also waving and laughing at his daughter’s facial expressions. 

During the game, you took a few pictures– some of yourself with Alessia’s family members, and a few of the field in front of you. You looked through them before deciding to post one of them on your Instagram story. As you made up the story, you hesitated on how to send a secret message to your lover, as the two of you had been enjoying sending subtle hints and messages through your stories and posts. Smiling a little bit, you put a small red heart in the corner of a picture of the stadium that you had taken earlier. Then, you posted it. 

After that, you pocketed your phone, making the conscious decision to be more present during the match and to soak up the moments with Alessia’s family while you could.

When Alessia scored an absolute banger of a goal, you burst to your feet with the rest of Alessia’s family. Shouting your pride for your secret girlfriend for the world to hear, your voice joined the thousands of those in attendance to watch the Lionesses that day, but yours was the only one that Alessia cared about as she tapped a finger to her chest, tilting her head in your direction as she looked at you in the audience. The moment was incredibly special, smiles on both of your faces. The moment lasted a brief second, but felt like so much longer, before Alessia was embraced by the rest of the Lionesses on the field in a huge group hug, breaking your eye contact. 

At the end of the match, Alessia was making her way around the field, conversing with different people and signing things for fans. Finally, she made it around to you and her family, coming close to give each of you hugs. When her arms reached up and around the barrier to embrace you, she got as close to your face as she could before whispering out, “Hi, baby. Thank you for surprising me.” 

“I’m so proud of you, Lessi.” You whispered back, before letting your girl go to hug the rest of her family members. You all spoke for a few minutes before Alessia had to go to change.

You saw your girlfriend again outside of the stadium, giving her another hug as you all decided to go out to eat together. You shared a nice meal with Alessia and her family for a few hours, enjoying getting to know everyone even more as you and Alessia sat next to each other, surrounded by her family that was slowly beginning to feel like your own. 

That night, as Alessia lay in her own bed in her apartment, she pulled up Instagram and saw that you had posted something on your story. Tapping on your icon, a picture of the field came up on her screen, and it took her a second to notice the red heart in the corner that she knew was meant for her. With a smile, she tapped back onto your story to look at it again before sending you a goodnight text, consciously putting a red heart into her text message before shutting off her phone and falling asleep with a huge, cheesy grin on her face. 

—-- 

3. Chocolates, Flowers, & Bears – Oh my!

As you made your way up the steps to Alessia’s North London apartment, you found yourself reminiscing in a scene similar to this one. Holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand, a box of chocolates in the other, and a stuffed bear stuffed beneath your elbow, all of which had been carefully planned out between you and the notorious Katie McCabe. You were reminded of your first date as you rapped on Alessia’s front door with the back of one of your free hands, unable to keep the excited grin from your face. 

It was Valentine’s Day, and you had planned to take Alessia out to a nice dinner, planning to pick her up for a late reservation at her favorite restaurant. For the occasion, you were dressed in black formal wear and had told Alessia to dress nicely as well. As Alessia opened the door, you took her in and your smile fell from your face slightly, an expression of concern replacing it. 

She wore a beautiful, tight-fitting black dress which accentuated her curves and long legs, and for a moment the sight of her took your breath away. Then, you took in her face, and it became very quickly obvious to you that your girlfriend wasn’t feeling it tonight. She had black bags beneath her tired-looking eyes, and her hands fidgeted at her side nervously. You knew that she’d been feeling quite stressed lately, with football and making sure that she was scoring enough goals to satisfy her own standards, which had always been far above anybody else’s. She was her own toughest critic, and it appeared that tonight it was all crashing down on her. 

“Hi, baby. Are you doing okay?” You asked gently, stepping forward. The second you spoke, you saw a tear beginning to form in the corner of Alessia’s eye and your heart broke a little bit at the image. 

“I’m okay. Are you ready to go?” Alessia asked, trying to brush past the fact that she was obviously upset. You shook your head, thinking about how to correctly go about this without bringing up your girlfriends’ feelings, as it seemed like she didn’t want to talk about it and you knew better than to prod at her. 

“Actually, I was hoping we could have a night in?” Your voice was soft and hopeful-sounding, and the second you voiced it a look of relief washed up upon your girlfriends’ face. 

“Yes, please.” She whispered, and you smiled gently. Alessia took a step back to allow you into her home, pushing the door closed behind you.

“Go get changed, baby. I’ll set up the couch for a movie night, how does that sound?” You asked, and Alessia looked at you with such a look of adoration that you nearly melted on the spot. Nodding eagerly, Alessia didn’t think twice before making her way further into her apartment in the direction of her room. While she changed, you kicked your shoes off next to Alessia’s welcome mat before going about setting up Alessia’s living room for a night in. 

You placed the bouquet you’d gotten Alessia in a vase, setting both items on her counter to replace the last bouquet you’d gotten her. You set the chocolates and the stuffed bear on the counter as well before grabbing all of Alessia’s favorite snacks and putting them into bowls, bringing them into the living room and setting them on a table in front of her couch. You went back to the kitchen, grabbing two drink bottles and bringing them back to the living room as well, setting them on the table next to the snacks. Next, you went about preparing the movie.

You specifically remembered Alessia mentioning that she’d never seen the Wizard of Oz during training, despite having the movie on one of her shelves. So, you went about putting that movie on the television before pulling out some blankets and pillows and setting them on the couch. By the time you’d finished, Alessia was coming out of her room. She’d changed into a large sleep shirt and sweatpants with long, fuzzy socks. The second she saw you and what you’d set up, a large smile broke across her face. 

“Thank you, Y/N. It looks very cozy,” Alessia whispered gently, feeling so cared for in the moment that it nearly brought tears to her eyes. She’d been so stressed lately that this had been exactly what she’d needed today, and she was so grateful that you’d seemed to sense that. Coming up to you, she gently pecked your lips before handing you a large hoodie of hers and shorts. “Go change, baby. I’ll be right here when you get back!” 

With that, Alessia took several steps backward before plopping herself down on her own couch, looking up at you expectantly when you didn’t budge. You were staring at her, a fond smile on your face. 

“What?” Alessia asked, appearing confused. 

“You’re so beautiful.” You whispered, in awe of the woman before you. A blush rose to Alessia’s cheeks quickly at your words and she shooed you away to go get changed, a smile rising to her face. 

Once you came back, you sat down on the couch and pulled Alessia over to you. Putting your feet up on the couch and laying back, Alessia quickly climbed on top of you and threw her arms around you, resting her head on your chest. You laid one arm on her back, starting the movie before bringing up your other hand to gently card your fingers through her hair the way that you knew calmed her down. 

As the two of you laid there, your hand tracing patterns on her back as the other gently stroked her head, Alessia’s hand crept up your chest and to the open skin of your collarbone, tracing the skin there as she focused on the movie. Just a moment later, she spoke up softly.

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Less?” You asked, equally as softly.

“Thank you for this. I’m sorry I ruined your plans, though. I know you worked hard to plan tonight.” She sounded sorry, and you frowned gently, your hand leaving her hair to go to her chin and guide her head upward to look at you. 

“Less, you ruined nothing. There’s nothing else I’d rather be doing right now.” You reassured the other woman, a fond smile replacing the frown on your face as Alessia smiled gently at you.

“I’ll make it up to you. We can do something fancy tomorrow, if you want.” Alessia still felt sorry, and you could tell from both her words and her intonation. Shaking your head, your thumb stroked her cheek gently as you spoke.

“Less, fancy or not, we could be shoveling three-day-old trash and I’d still be happy because I’m with you. You don’t have to make up for anything, love.” Your words seemed to strike a cord in the other woman as she gently leaned further up into you, placing a soft kiss against your lips. You two probably would have kissed for longer if you’d have been able to keep the smile from your face. However, as you smiled into the kiss, Alessia couldn’t fight back her own smile and pulled away, the both of you grinning widely at each other. 

“I love you,” Alessia murmured passionately. “So, so, so much.” 

Your grin became impossibly larger at the other woman’s words– you’d known you’d loved her for a long time, but neither of you had ever said it. “I love you too, Less. So much.” 

The two of you would spend the night together, cuddled up and munching on different snacks. When the movie finished, Alessia invited you to stay the night, which you oh-so-gratefully accepted. That night, you made your small instagram story together. The two of you chose a simple picture of the stuffed bear, flower bouquet, and chocolates that you’d bought Alessia and chose to play “The Feels” over the background of the story, posting it to Alessia’s instagram. 

Turning off your phones for the night, the two of you fell into bed together. Cuddled into each other, you both fell asleep with soft smiles upon each of your faces. 

—--

4. Cookies, Puppy Love, & Keys

A knock came at your door, to which you stood up from your position on your couch to make your way over to the door. Opening it revealed your gorgeous girlfriend in a casual jumper and joggers, and a huge smile broke out across your face. However, your girlfriend barely even looked at you as she squealed out in excitement, scooping the wiggling figure out of your arms rather quickly. 

“Oh my gosh! He’s so adorable!!” Lessi gushed, her beautiful eyes crinkling at the corners as she held up your newly adopted puppy at eye level. You’d named the tiny puppy Jasper, which you thought was an appropriate name for the hyperactive animal. It licked at your girlfriends’ face, causing her to giggle, and you quickly ushered her into the house with a smile, your own laughs gently leaving your mouth at the scene. 

You’d made the decision to buy the puppy as the first of many decisions that month. The second decision was packed into your back pocket, waiting for the perfect moment to be pulled out. You’d invited Less over for your day off of training, having not spent as much time as you would have liked alone with the other woman. 

As your girlfriend continued to giggle at Jasper, who wiggled and barked and licked like all puppies do, a timer beeped and you startled. Alessia turned to look up at you from her newfound position on the floor as Jasper crawled all over her. 

“What was that?” Less asked, and you smiled. 

“I figured we could bake cookies today, if that would be okay with you?” Your voice was unsteady, the nerves of how big the day was for you bleeding into your voice. Alessia’s brows furrowed but she smiled nonetheless, choosing to not make a big deal out of your quaky voice and deciding that you’d tell her if anything was wrong, as was the usual for your relationship of nearly two years. 

“Oh– of course! I’d love to do that!” Alessia said excitedly, and you grinned as Jasper took advantage of her momentary distraction to nip at her fingers, causing Alessia to yelp in surprise and continue on giggling and speaking to the puppy as if he were a human. Amused, you made your way into the kitchen and began going about making the dough for the cookies, figuring your girlfriend would join you when she was ready. Besides, you were more than happy to bake cookies from your spot in the kitchen, which allowed you to watch as Alessia rolled around with Jasper on the ground. 

Jasper continued to pounce and jump all over your girlfriend and, inspired by her giggles and adorable squeaks, you quickly pulled out your phone to snap a picture of the two. 

After a few minutes, Alessia did get up from the ground and make her way over to where you stood at your kitchen counter, your back momentarily turned towards her as you mixed some ingredients together. Taking her chance, the other woman folded her arms around your middle, wrapping you up in a gentle hug from behind and planting a soft kiss against the skin of your neck. 

Turning your head towards your girlfriend, you waited for her to look up to connect your lips. Her hands began to wander, inching below the fabric of your loose-fitting t-shirt to rest against the skin of your stomach, fingers gently digging into your hips as she continued to kiss you. One of her hands wandered to grab at your ass, and you moaned into the kiss, your head falling back as you detached your kiss. Your girlfriend, however, took the initiative to kiss at your neck, gently nipping and sucking but making sure not to leave any visible marks, as the two of you were still quite secretive about your relationship. Your teammates knew, as did your families, but most others were kept in the dark about the two of you.

Alessia continued her assault on your neck, one hand trailing along your behind as her other one trailed up the musculature of your stomach, heading upward to grasp at your chest. Just as the kiss was getting even more heated, a second timer went off, causing you to jump in your girlfriends’ hold. Throughout your kiss, Jasper had also been yipping at the two of you, but everything had seemed to turn to background noise. Now, however, the noises of the kitchen broke past your kiss-drunken haze as you turned in your girlfriends’ hold, pecking her lips quickly before darting over to turn off the timer. Alessia grinned gently, knowing that she’d have plenty of time to continue what she’d begun later. She took up the task that you’d been distracted from, mixing up some ingredients together as you worked to prepare the oven for the cookies. 

As you and Alessia worked together to make cookies, with a couple of kisses thrown in here and there, as well as some love given to Jasper, you could feel your secret weighing you down. Finally, as you set the last tray of cookies down onto a tray to cool off, you looked at your girlfriend. She’d thrown her hair up into a messy bun and the sleeves of her jumper had been rolled up to avoid getting them dirty, and she also had a dash of flour on one of her cheeks. To you, she’d never looked so beautiful before. You nearly forgot your words, and Alessia took a step towards you, gently putting her hands on your waist and tugging you into her to press a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Come back to me, sweet.” Alessia murmured, her worry seeping through at how nervous you looked. Instead of responding, you rested your head against her shoulder for a moment and forced yourself to take a deep breath before starting again.

“Less– I’ve been thinking about this for a really, really long time and I know that we haven’t really talked too much about it, but I really want this and if you want it too then I think it would work. Of course, you can always say no and I would never be hurt or offended but–”

“Baby, slow down and breathe.” Alessia reassured you, pecking at your lips again as she cut off your rambling with a tiny giggle. You looked into her blue eyes as a blush rose to your cheeks. Deciding to just cut off the rest of your ill-planned speech, you blurted out the question you’d been meaning to ask for the last couple of weeks. 

“Move in with me?” 

“I would love to, baby.” Alessia responded almost instantaneously, and you grinned. 

“Really?!” You couldn’t help but be excited at the prospect of living in the same house as the love of your life. The two of you had remained in separate apartments throughout your relationship due to the secrecy of it. However, the more people who knew about the two of you, the less concerned you were about your private affairs being more known to the world. Besides, it wasn’t uncommon for those in the footballing world to move in together, as loads of your teammates had shared apartments. 

“Of course– I could barely say no when you bribe me with puppies and cookies!” Alessia jokes, and you couldn’t help but smile at her, bringing her closer for yet another unbelievably soft kiss. 

As the two of you sat with your puppy and a plate full of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies, you showed Alessia the picture that you’d taken of her. She asked that you send the picture to her, which you did eagerly, before turning off your phones for the day so that you could spend the rest of your time together without the outside chatter. You two spent the rest of your day eating cookies, talking, and playing with Jasper without a care in the world about anything else. 

A few weeks later, Alessia posted a monthly recap post to her instagram, the very first photo featuring the picture you’d taken of her with Jasper. The caption of the post? “A big month with the ones I love most <3”

It was this post that began to really spark the speculation of the fans that the two of you were dating. 

Surprisingly, neither of you minded. 

—--

5. Late Nights, Silent Mornings, & Kitchen Dancing

Rolling over in the bed you shared with your girlfriend, you sighed. The two of you had gone to bed many hours ago, exhausted from a day full of training and media work. However, while your girlfriend had fallen asleep almost instantaneously, you’d found yourself unable to do the same. 

Sighing yet again, you decided to get up and go get a glass of water, deciding that all of your shifting would do nothing but wake your girlfriend up, and you dreaded what would happen if you dared interrupt her beauty sleep. Sitting up and climbing out of the bed, you turned and found the covers that you had kicked about in all of your rolling, pulling them up and over your still-sleeping girlfriend. Turning the corner of the bed, you snagged a sweatshirt from on top of a chair that you knew belonged to your girlfriend, relishing in how it smelled of her as you shrugged the material over your sports bra. Before you finally left the room, you planted a soft, lingering kiss on your girlfriends’ forehead. 

Jasper sat at the foot of your bed, head perking up as you left the room, but ultimately staying where he was and deciding to sleep instead of follow you.

Softly treading down the hallway and reaching the kitchen, you went about preparing a glass of water. Once done, you drank most of it but held the half-full glass in one hand as you leaned against the counter, beyond tired but still unable to find yourself to be in the mood to sleep. You were, to be quite frank, annoyed at your inability to sleep, and wondered if it was due to stress. After all, your contract for Arsenal was running out soon and they had yet to renew it, despite all of your teammates and your girlfriend telling you that there was no way they wouldn’t renew it, given how successful you had been, especially as of late.

So consumed in your frustrated thoughts, you didn’t hear your girlfriend approaching until she was right in front of you. 

“Baby? Love? Are you alright?” She murmured, voice raspy from sleep. 

“Oh– Less, baby. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You whispered back, your own voice raspy but due to lack of sleep. Alessia frowned at you, standing in just a sports bra and sweatpants that you thought may have been yours. Instead of speaking, she took a few steps towards you and opened her arms to embrace you. As soon as you stepped towards her, she tugged you all the way into her and wrapped her arms around your middle in a giant bear hug, resting her head on your shoulder. 

“Did you want to talk about what’s keeping you up?” She asked gently, but you shook your head against her shoulder and she sighed, knowing better than to pry right now. Instead, she began to gently rock back and forth, an idea springing up in her head. Removing her hands from around you and taking a half step back, she took one of your hands in hers before wrapping her other one back around you, tugging you right back into her. Confused, you wrapped your free arm around her neck, growing even more confused as Alessia began to guide you around the kitchen humming and giggling as she began to sing, guiding you to dance to the beat of whatever song she was softly singing.

You couldn’t help but giggle, especially when your clumsy girlfriend tripped and nearly sent the two of you careening towards the ground. You were able to catch your footing, however, saving the two of you from what would have probably put you on Arsenal’s ever-persistently growing list of injured players. 

You two continued to dance for several more minutes, Alessia choosing to rest her head against your chest. As you danced, she became so consumed in listening to the steady beat of your heart that she forgot she was supposed to be humming. Instead, the two of you rocked to no beat at all, content to just be close to each other. 

Finally, you yawned, signaling that it was time to try to sleep again. Alessia guided you back towards your room to try to sleep again. Shifting in the bed, Alessia held you in her arms until she was sure that you were asleep before also falling asleep. 

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that you saw evidence of that late night featured as one of many on Alessia’s next instagram post– it was of you leaning against the counter, nothing but a shadow in a dimly-lit kitchen. It had been a dark moment for you, and you wondered why Alessia had bothered taking the picture without you knowing. However, as you continued to stare at the small photo, you noticed that Alessia had somehow managed to turn something so dark into something light and beautiful– the way that you stood, leaning against the counter, made you seem so human and perfectly captured… Well, you. It took you a few minutes to truly understand why Alessia had taken the photo, and you realized that, while the moment had been dark, the memory itself was light and fluffy. This would always be something that you’d marvel about your lover, and be sure to tell her about. Lessi was, after all, the light of your life, and it was moments like these where you knew that to be true. 

—--

6. Secrets, Magical Gardens, & Fountains

After Alessia’s last instagram post, fans were calling you the new Preath with how the two of you continuously “soft launched” your relationship, or lack of relationship… nobody really knew, honestly. Some speculated that some of Alessia’s instagram photos and stories pointed at your relationship together, while others claimed that was pure speculation. It was something that you and your girlfriend often laughed about together. After four years together, you’d never been closer or happier with the woman you loved. The two of you were still teammates at Arsenal and successful as ever, and as stable as the two of you were, you still felt like something was shifting between the two of you. 

Waking up this morning on a day off, Alessia told you to dress nicely, to which you did. Alessia herself decided upon a flowy white top and high-waisted pants. She had told the two of you that you were going somewhere but, as she drove with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh, she had yet to tell you where. 

After what seemed like ages of driving and soft conversation, Alessia pulled the car into a parking space in front of a huge, gorgeous botanical garden. Opening the door, Alessia stood in front of the car and held out her hand for you to take, which you did. Together, the two of you walked around the garden and admired all of the different types of flowers and plants. Idle chatter filled the space between the two of you, and the weather was just simply perfect. 

Coming up to a clearing that featured a large, beautiful water fountain, Alessia suddenly stopped. Turning towards you, you suddenly realized why everything had felt like it was shifting as of late. Alessia Russo dropped down to one knee in front of you, pulling a black box from the back pocket of her pants and opening it to reveal a gorgeous ring. You could barely process the moment, having been completely oblivious to Alessia’s plans. Little did you know that your partner had been planning this moment for months, utilizing the ever-present Katie McCabe to plan out her proposal. 

Not wasting a moment, Alessia spoke to you. Her blue eyes sparkled with adoration and emotion as her voice quivered, but remained true. 

“Y/N M/N L/N, from festival dates to football matches, to movie nights and early mornings spent dancing in the kitchen, I have spent hours upon hours doing the things I love with the person I love the most. You make even the smallest things seem like the most significant, and there is nothing I would love more in the world than to spend the rest of my life with you. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes. Yes. A thousand and one times, yes.” And with that, Alessia slipped the ring on your finger. 

The instagram post arose several days later, when both of you had the time to announce your engagement and simultaneously officialize the relationship between the two of you. It was your final hard launch after several years of soft launching and teasing the fans endlessly.

The picture the two of you chose was of Alessia on one knee in front of the fountain, both arms extended up to you with the ring box open in her hands. Your hands were on your face, the emotion that bled from the both of you prevalent in the photo. The caption for the photo was simple, “A thousand times, yes. Fiances at last.” 

The song that played in the background was the one that seemed to tie it all together, “The Feels” by Labrinth. The song and its lyrics reminded you of you terrified you’d been, standing at Alessia’s front door just before your first date, a shaky mess. You remembered wondering if you’d be hurt again, if dating again was worth the risk and suffering of yet another heartbreak. 

Now, as you laid next to your sleeping fiancé, you knew that the risk you had taken had been more than worth it. You would always be grateful to your younger self for taking that massive leap and choosing to trust Alessia Russo with your heart. Closing your eyes and laying back down beside the love of your life, you fell asleep with a smile of absolute satisfaction and love upon your face.

[edwardhartenjoyer]

Hi! I've never requested anything but this popped in my head and I love your fics. What if a new ghoul joined their house and it turned out to be your ex boyfriend, so you have to go on missions with your crush, and your ex, how would each ghoul react? I'm in love with whoever ghoul I'm currently reading about but I know that's a lot, I do really like Jin, Alan, sho, towa, ren, Lyca, Rui, Yuri, and jiro, which is still a lot so if you do it, do who you like 🤣

Hi!!! Oh i love this idea so much! I did cut down the list, sorry, but I'm more than happy to do a second part with the rest of your favorites if you want!

Between An Ex And A Crush

A new ghoul has come to Darkwick, and it turns out he's your ex. Not only are you now going to school with your ex, you'd rather not have seen again, but he also got assigned to the same house as your crush.

Now you end up sent on a mission with your crush and ex's house, the first one since your ex came to the school. Your crush can tell something is going on...

Featuring: Jin | Sho | Towa | Lyca | Jiro

Jin Kamurai - You tried to stick as far away from your ex as you could while on your latest mission with Frostheim. You just didn't want to deal with all the drama that came with him, and also didn't want to have to explain your past relationship with all the ghouls around you.

"We should split up in order to check more areas." Tohma suggested suddenly, and you felt your stomach drop as your ex immediately tried to come closer to you.

Jin glanced at you and saw the look on your face, quickly stepping in. "Come on, let's go." He commanded, holding out his hand to you. You gratefully took his hand and let him lead you away.

"What is going on?" He asked once you were both away from the others.

"That new ghoul is my ex, and I really really don't want to be around him." You confessed. Jin's grip on your hand tightened, and you looked over at him.

"Did he do anything bad to you?" He asked, his tone deathly serious. You quiclkly shook your head.

"No, he just... broke my heart. It took a long time to get over him, and I'm glad that I finally moved on..." You admitted, barely stopping yourself from saying far too much.

Jin was silent for a long moment as he studied you. He stepped closer, and you blushed, watching him but not moving away. He brought up the hand, not holding yours, and placed it against your cheek. You leaned into his touch.

He gently stroked his thumb against your cheek, "Want me to make sure he doesn't come near you." He asked gently.

"I just need you to be with me." You whispered pleadingly. He leaned in and captured your lips with his.

When the two of you rejoined with the group at the end of the day, Jin's arm was around your waist, pressing you close. It was clear as day to everyone that you were his, and you couldn't help the satisfaction at seeing your ex's reaction.

Sho Haizono - Sho knew something was off between you and that new ghoul. You practically glued yourself to Sho's side, even willingly hanging closer to Leo just for any chance to get away from that new guy.

When the chance came to split apart, Sho teamed himself up with you and led you away from the others.

"Want to tell me what's up between you and that new guy?" Sho questioned, raising a brow at you.

You sighed, looking down to fiddle with your sleeves. "He's my ex. He broke my heart, and it took a long time to get over him." You admitted.

"So, no more feelings for him?" Sho asked, and you couldn't see the expression on his face, not willing to look up at him. What you didn't see was the jealousy over your ex on his face. Sho had been certain before that you had a thing for him, but now with your ex here, he just wanted to be sure.

"No, in fact, I have feelings for someone else.." you mumbled. Sho moved in closer, placing a hand under your chin to tilt your head up. You blushed as you met his gaze, a smug grin on his face.

"Senpai, can I kiss you?" Sho whispered. In response, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

When the two of you rejoined with the others later, it was with Sho's jacket over your shoulders and his arm around you. Even Leo's teasing couldn't ruin your mood, especially when you saw the look on your ex's face.

Towa Otonashi - Towa did not like the way this new ghoul was looking at you. He could also see just how, uncomfortable you seemed to be, avoiding being near him as much as possible.

When Haru suggested splitting up, Towa jumped at the chance, grabbing your hand and pulling you off away from the others. He could see the tension leave you the moment the new ghouls eyes weren't on you.

"~ ~ ~ ~ ~?" Towa hummed out, looking at you questioningly and you knew what he was asking.

"He's my ex and I just never thought I'd see him again after he broke my heart.." you confessed.

Towa's gaze darkened, and storm clouds suddenly rolled in, lighting striking off in the distance.

"Towa no! It's okay! I'm over him now, It's just really weird being near him." You placed a hand on Towa's arm, and he instantly brightened, the clouds dissipating.

He pulled you close into his arms and nuzzled his face into you. "~ ~ ~ !" He hummed "Dandelion you're my soulmate, not his!"

You blushed and wrapped your arms around Towa. "Yeah, I'm your soulmate, Towa." You whispered softly, much to his absolute delight.

When you finally rejoined the others, Towa refused to let you go, holding your hand the entire time. If your ex came anywhere near you, Towa just put himself between the two of you.

You squeezed Towa's hand gently, extremely happy now, the expression on your ex's face only addding to your happiness.

Lyca Colt - Lyca did not like this new guy. It was an inter house mission, and he did not like this new guy, especially not the way he was looking at you.

When it was suggested that you all split into groups, Lyca watched as you instantly hurried over to him. He was more than happy to take you away from that new guy and led the way off from the others.

"I don't like that guy." Lyca huffed, once the two of you were alone.

"I don't, either." You admitted. "We used to date and he broke my heart when we split up."

Lyca growled softly and turned to look at you. "Then he's stupid! He should never have broken your heart. You're too amazing to ever do that, too!"

You blushed darkly. "Lyca.." you whispered softly, and he found himself blushing too. You slowly stepped in closer to him and wrapped your arms around him. He held you close, subtly memorizing your scent and the feel of you in his arms.

"I'd never break your heart." Lyca huffed softly.

"I know you won't." You whispered, pulling him into a soft kiss.

When you finally rejoined with everyone else, Lyca hovered close at your side. You joined your hand with his, and he beamed, shooting smug glares at your ex.

Jiro Kirisaki - Jiro could tell right away you weren't comfortable around this new ghoul. You tried whatever you could to avoid him, and Jiro knew that meant something was wrong.

"Yuri, MC and I will go check over this way." Jiro called out to Yuri. Yuri agreed with it, and Jiro pulled you away. Once the two of you were alone, Jiro stopped and turned to you.

"Why are avoiding this new ghoul?"

"He's my ex, and I just don't want to be near him. He broke my heart last time I saw him." You explained.

"So you no longer feel anything for him?" Jiro asked, wanting clarification. You nodded.

"Yeah, I don't feel anything for him. In fact, I...I like you, actually.." you admitted.

Jiro studied you for a moment before stepping closer and pulling you to him. "I like you too." He confessed. "Yuri explained it to me when I asked him about why I felt like I do around you."

You blushed and smiled at him. Though you did internally laugh at the thought of how flustered Yuri must have been, all thoughts washed away when Jiro pressed his lips to yours.

When the two of you rejoined the others, Jiro wasted no time in annoucing that you were dating him and that if any boundaries were overstepped, he wouldn't hesitate to step in. The look on your ex's face was priceless.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tag list: @cloudcountry @ash0-0ley @tinumaru @ventisimpilysm

Wanna be added or removed? Let me know!

[belli5]

Your Fool .ᐟ ೀMC⁷¹

╰ Synopsis When Macklin introduces you to his best friend Will, you grow close without meaning to, but feelings get complicated, and one night at a party, Mack lets you know how he feels.

tags/contains Macklin Celebrini x reader. Will Smith x platonic!reader. Angst, fluff if you squint, jealous!Will, jealous!Mack, use of y/n, miscommunication, jealousy, endgame with Macklin, established relationship, love triangle lowkey, happy ending(barely), lmk what else.

➺ from Sera, to you📨. I lowkey didn’t want to make a happy ending, but I knew if I didn’t people would ask for part two and I already have too much requests to do 😭 + I rushed the ending😭

masterlist ᥫ᭡ please reblog this fic if you enjoyed it! Please do NOT rewrite/repost my work anywhere else without permission!

You weren’t totally sure why Mack had invited you to Sharks practice. It was early, it was cold and the only thing you really knew was that you didn’t wanna get up so early for it

But you’d said yes anyway, because when he said he wanna introduce you to someone, how could you say no?

There was something about Mack that made you feel comfortable even when you weren’t in your comfort zone. And when he’d shot you a text last night that simply read, “Wanna come watch practice tomorrow morning? I wanna introduce you to someone,” your curiosity had won out.

The rink was quiet when you walked in beside him, just the sound of skates carving the ice and pucks smacking off boards echoing through the arena. You zipped your jacket up higher and glanced around, wide eyed.

“They’re still wrapping up drills,” Mack said as he guided you toward the glass. “Won’t be long.”

You nodded, watching as the team coasted in circles, a few of them passing the puck back and forth with the kind of effortless rhythm that came from years of knowing how to play.

One player caught your eye, not because he was doing anything particularly flashy, but because the moment Mack tapped on the glass, he looked up immediately and smiled.

“That’s him,” Mack said, following your gaze. “Will.”

You recognized the name, Mack talked about Will often, Will was Macklin’s bestfriend, you sure knew that. You’d always imagined someone loud and a little cocky.

But when Will skated over and pulled his helmet off, he looked friendly. Not overconfident, just open, his cheeks were red from the cold, hair damp and sticking to his forehead.

He stepped off the ice and grinned. “Hey.”

“Hi! I’m Y/n.”

Will held out a gloved hand and then realized, mid-move, how impractical that was. He laughed softly and tugged it off, offering his bare hand instead. “Sorry.”

You shook it, smiling. “Nice to meet you.”

“Mack’s mentioned you,” he said, glancing sideways at his friend. “A lot.”

Mack gave him a look, stepping back a bit to go into the locker room to change, leaving you two alone.

It started small, you didn’t even notice it at first, the way you asked, casually, “Is Will coming too?” whenever Mack mentioned a team hangout or grabbing food after practice.

You’d ask it without even looking up, just a passing thought between scrolling your phone or tying your sneakers or sipping the drink he’d just handed you, but Macklin noticed it.

At first, he brushed it off. Will was his best friend, they were always together, it made sense that you’d want him around, especially if you were trying to get more comfortable in Mack’s world.

Will was easy to talk to, warm in a quiet way, the kind of guy who remembered your favorite candy after you mentioned it once, or asked how your classes were going and actually waited for the real answer. He made people feel like they were being listened to.

And Mack liked that about him, it was part of why they’d become so close in the first place.

And, it didn’t take long for things to start feeling different. The shift was subtle, slow, like the temperature of a room changing over time until suddenly you realize you’re sweating.

There were little things: the way you’d light up when Will walked into the room. How your voice always softened when you said his name. You brought coffee one morning before practice, just something you thought would be a sweet surprise and somehow there was a third cup in the tray.

“You mentioned you liked oat milk, right?” you’d asked casually, handing it off to Will without even thinking. You smiled at him, the way you smiled at everyone bright and generous and kind.

And Will… Will looked at you like he didn’t know what to do with that smile and Mack saw it.

He saw the way Will’s cheeks went pink, it was not just from the cold. The way his eyes lingered on you even after you turned away, how he kept glancing over during warmups like he was waiting for you to look back.

Will didn’t flirt exactly, that wasn’t him. But there was something else in the way he was around you, something patient and quiet, like he was biding his time. As if he didn’t want to cross a line, but he wasn’t entirely sure where that line was anymore.

And the worst part? You didn’t even notice..

You just kept being your usual self: warm, open, unaware. You were the kind of person who leaned your head on someone’s shoulder mid laugh without thinking twice. Who offered compliments easily and meant every single one.

You were just trying to fit in, to feel closer to the people in Macklin’s life, you weren’t trying to make anyone fall for you.

But Macklin knew Will, and he could see it, not just in the way Will looked at you, but in the way he looked away when Mack was near, in the way Will hesitated before hugging you goodbye, like he didn’t know if he was allowed to want more.

It made something uncomfortable twist in Macklin’s chest.

He didn’t want to be that guy: possessive or dramatic or jealous over nothing. He trusted you, he liked that you got along with his friends. But the more time you spent around Will, the more Mack started to feel like an outsider in his own dynamic.

There were moments where he caught Will watching you from across the room, not staring, just watching. Like you were the calm in the middle of the chaos and Mack couldn’t blame him for that, not really.

Because he knew what it felt like to want to be close to you. He’d felt that way the first night he met you, and every day since.

But Will wasn’t blind either. He saw the way you looked at Macklin: the ease in your body language around him, the inside jokes you didn’t have to explain, the way you always seemed to lean a little closer when it was Mack talking like he had a gravity you couldn’t help but orbit.

But that was something Macklin couldn’t notice, he only noticed when you did it to Will..

And it made something twist in Will’s chest, it wasn’t anger exactly, not even longing it was just envy.

He didn’t know what he was jealous of, not really. It wasn’t like you were his.

You were clearly Mack’s person in all the ways that mattered and Will respected that, he wasn’t going to cross any lines. Mack was his best friend, and you were the girl he brought around like you belonged there, like he already knew how this story was going to end.

Still, it was getting harder to ignore the little things: the way your hand had lingered on Will’s arm earlier, light and fleeting but it felt real.

The way you laughed at his jokes like you actually cared, the way he found himself watching you when he wasn’t supposed to.

Will didn’t flirt, he wasn’t stupid but he couldn’t help wanting a little more time with you. A little more you, even if all it earned him was another one of your smiles.

The kind he knew deep down wasn’t meant for him. But God, he wanted it to be, just once.

The party had started to mellow out a little, the music still played, but the dance floor was thinner now, people scattered between the kitchen, the backyard, and any couch that was still clean enough to sit on.

You’d found a spot in the corner of the living room with Will, same as always, the two of you tucked into a half sunken couch, your legs folded beneath you, heads tilted toward each other in conversation.

You were talking about nothing and everything: music, childhood memories, dumb things the guys had done during practice.

It was easy with Will, it always was, you liked how he listened, how he added just the right amount of teasing without ever making you feel small.

It had become a quiet habit, finding each other at these things, making the chaos feel a little less overwhelming.

At one point, you laughed at something he said and leaned your arm across the back of the couch, closer without even realizing it. Will smiled softly, not saying anything but not moving away, either.

That was when Macklin appeared. He stood a few feet away, hands in his pockets, eyes flicking from you to Will. “Hey,” he said. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

You blinked, caught slightly off guard. “Uh, sure.”

Will sat back a little as you stood up, his eyes briefly meeting Macklin’s, nothing was said, but something unspoken passed between them. You gave Will a quick look: a small smile that said I’ll be back, before following Mack upstairs.

The silence between you stretched, heavy and strange, and when he finally sat on the edge of the bed, you stood in front of him with your arms crossed loosely over your chest.

“What’s going on?”

Mack ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t want to be that guy,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to tell you who you can be close to, or make things awkward between you and Will, but it’s been messing with my head.”

You frowned. “Mack—”

“I know you don’t mean anything by it,” he rushed, “but I see how he looks at you and I see how you look at him sometimes, even if you don’t realize it. And I just.. I guess I’ve been scared.”

Your heart sank. “Scared of what?” you asked softly.

He looked up then, eyes a little glassy. “Of losing you,” he admitted. “To someone who’s easier to talk to or to someone who’s always around when I’m not.”

Your chest tightened, you sat beside him, sliding your hand into his. “Mack, I’m close with Will because he’s your best friend. I never meant for it to feel like something else.”

“I know,” he said, voice small. “But it still does.” You leaned your head against his shoulder, quiet for a moment.

“I’m here because I want to be with you,” you said, finally. “Not anyone else, okay?”

Mack just nodded a little, like he was trying to believe it, trying to let the words settle into all the cracked spaces self doubt had crept into.

You watched him for a second, then moved closer.

He didn’t resist when you shifted, gently swinging a leg over to straddle his lap, his arms slid around your waist instinctively, like it was muscle memory. Like this was the only thing grounding him in the moment.

You rested your hands on his cheeks, thumbs brushing softly over the faint pink in his skin but he still wouldn’t quite meet your eyes.

So you leaned in and kissed him.

It wasn’t urgent, it was just soft, slow, like a promise sealed in quiet. His grip on your waist tightened just slightly, and when you pulled back, you stayed close enough.

“You’re not losing me, Mack,” you whispered. “I’m right here.”

He exhaled, like he’d been holding his breath for weeks. “I know I just overthink things,” he said, voice rough around the edges. “Especially when it comes to you.. i care so much, it makes everything feel like it’s on the edge of falling apart.”

“It’s not,” you said firmly. “We’re okay. We just have to talk before it builds up like this.”

Mack nodded, his eyes finally meeting yours again.“Okay,” he whispered.

[bambisafe]

hey love your writings ugh i love the way you write leon, here on a request!! like rough sex with leon after hes had a long day and he just gets emotional, I would absolutely love to see your take on that, you write him incredibly

pairings. leon kennedy/f!reader

synopsis. leon comes home from a mission and shows you just how badly he missed you while he was gone.

word count. 2.7k

warnings. minors don’t interact / porn with plot, slow burn, established relationship, flowery writing, (my inner poet jumped out a bit), L bombs, kissing, reader & leon are Needy, neck kissing, cunnilingus, rough sex, cuddle fucking (is that the term?), prone bone, cussing, unprotected sex (popular theme here on my blog), creampie, (brief) cockwarming, cuddling, aftercare.

author’s note. this request shifted something in me, i just hope you know that. leon is my favorite character of all time and my number one goal to keep him as close to in-character as possible so this message got me a little misty-eyed. it inspired me to return to writing full throttle. i hope you have a beautiful life. so glad to have written this <3 btw i recognize you’re a longtime follower of mine so to know you’ve kept up with my fics for this long? UGH you’re wonderful.

also can be read on ao3.

“alright, i’m goin’,”

you still remember how dark the bedroom was, the smell of mint toothpaste, the dread of him leaving. a lingering ache in that pre-mature worry. the what-ifs.

what if he doesn’t make it home?

what if this is the last time i see him?

no, no. of course he’ll make it. he always does. ever resilient, government golden boy, leon. he’s got this, always has. he’s a one-man army. can take down hoards, nightmarish giants, and humanoid creatures alone.

always that what-if…

“you with me?”

thump, thump, thump.

those boots, you’d know ‘em anywhere. charcoal black, worn at the toe, squeak on the wood. they come right toward you.

nodding, you meet his eyes briefly, offer a smile that doesn’t tick up quite as far as leon’d hoped.

“you alright?” he already knew the answer though, could see it on your face.

“yeah, yeah… just thinking,”

just thinking. your mind probably going in all the wrong places.

leon’s expression softens and he steps closer, two hands holding your arms firmly.

“hey,” it’s a whisper, a rough, sleep-heavy one that vibrates through you. he’s barely gotten any rest and he’s already up and ready to go. the thought makes your gut twist uncomfortably.

he nudges your chin up until your eyes are locked; two little oceans underneath a night sky.

“i’m gonna be alright,” he says it like a promise. “‘kay?”

you don’t reply for a long time, managing a thick swallow, throat bobbing before responding weakly, “come home to me.”

he gives a slight but firm nod. that’s all you need. the determination, and it’s there.

“i always do.”

—

you walked him to the door, which he opened, duffle bag in hand, completely immune to the gust of cool air that just blew in, causing goosebumps to rise on your arms.

“got everything?” you press gently, head tilting unconsciously.

“yeah, think so,” he sighs, an undercurrent of i-don’t-wanna-leave-you present in his tone, as he digs through each of his pockets.

this was it. the see-you-later. never the goodbye.

wordlessly, you stand on your toes, hand finding his arm— god, it was so warm —and press a kiss to his lips.

it’s warm. it lingers. it sits heavy on the both of you. it screams hope. come back. come home to me. be safe. i love you.

when you part, you’ve both landed back on earth. disoriented, the weight of right now sinking back in.

“alright,” you feel a thumb briefly brush your chin. “be safe,”

he pauses in the doorway, clearly hesitating. doesn’t know if he should say it. it’s not weakness, it’s honest. it’s so intimate. it’s what you deserve.

“i love you.”

your heart leaps, your lashes flutter, your breath is taken. you’ve heard the words come from his mouth but they’re rare. he shows love in actions, rarely in words. this is what makes this verbal sentiment so special.

“i love you too.” your eyes are warm and achingly soft, watching as your lover finds the courage to walk out that door and go.

—

weeks pass. weather changes. late summer turns to autumn. leaves start to fall, you’ve had to keep the heater going through the night. it’s rained, so much.

there isn’t a day that passes where you don’t miss leon. every day you wake hoping to see him on your side of the bed, in the kitchen making you both breakfast, sitting in front of the tv while he cleans his gun.

but every day, that long quiet swallows you whole.

until now.

the lock mechanism clinks, followed by the turn of a squeaky doorknob, and there he is. hair mussed, shirt sleeve ripped, smudged in soot and dirt and mud. he’s a fucking mess but he looks like he fell straight from heaven. he is yours.

“you’re home,” you’re rushing off the couch, movie forgotten as you go to leap right into his arms.

to your complete surprise, leon’s lips pull into the slightest of smiles. it’s tired— exhausted —fond, and gentle. god, he missed you.

“hold on, sweetheart,” he extends a gloved hand to you, dropping his bag on the floor while kicking the door shut. “i’m filthy. lemme shower first.”

“i don’t think you understand, leon,” you begin, making unwavering eye contact. “you could’ve rolled in mud— and to be fair, it looks like you did —and nothing will stop me from kissing you right now. come here.”

but still, annoyingly so, the blond backpedals, fingertips at your chest.

“let me get clean,” he repeats, clearer. “i’m not riskin’ gettin’ you sick, alright?”

he tracks dried mud behind him as he makes his way through the house, his frame filling up the hallway.

“wait up f’me, will ya?” he adds over his shoulder.

oh, you’ll be waiting up for him.

—

when leon returns in nothing but a white tee sticking to his back and plaid pajama pants, hair damp, you’re in bed, hand behind your head, nearly in dreamland, but the sight of your greek god adjacent boyfriend is sending your belly into a frenzy.

“fuck,” he mutters, sinking into the mattress. “i’m beat,”

face smushed against a flat pillow, one eye finds you. “and i missed you,” one bulky arm pulls you in, a messy kiss pressed to the side of your head. “so fuckin’ much.”

that sentiment, the way it’s delivered, the sheer amount of need in his voice. it travels straight to your core.

“that much, huh?” you tease lightheartedly, leon chuckles against your head.

“yeah. that surprising?” his arm winds around you a little tighter, breath on your ear. “you really think i wouldn’t miss you, baby?”

please, of course you knew he’d miss you. you were both confident in your relationship. a very mature, adult relationship. but right now, this teasing, the pull you feel after being separated for weeks, it’s getting harder to not think about letting him ruin you.

“course i do,” you whisper, pressing your nose to his chest. “just nice to hear it.”

“mm,” he nuzzles your neck, pressing a kiss to your warm flesh. “i bet.”

he rolls you onto your back, the kisses on your neck growing more heated. desperate.

“you smell so fuckin’ good,” he practically growls, sinking teeth into your neck, not enough to break skin.

back arching slightly, you whine directly into his ear. you feel his dick twitch against your thigh.

“i dunno whatever it is you’re usin’,” he sighs. “but it’s drivin’ me crazy.”

no time to reply as he licks a strip across your neck, leaving goosebumps in the wake of his tongue. you whine, eyelashes fluttering. head spinning.

“ah—“ you whine, hips bucking unconsciously against his. “don’t tease me.”

he snickers against your neck. the little shit.

“let me have my fun,” he murmurs, rolling his hips against yours, the hard lump in his plaid pants rubbing against your clothed clit just right.

both of you moan at the same time, like two horny virgins. can’t get enough of each other. not feeling each other fast enough.

“leon—“ your hips jump, grind against him. but to your surprise, he holds you down with borderline superhuman strength.

“don’t,” he warns. “let me feel you.”

your position shifts. he sinks down, lower. settles between your legs, takes hold of both your thighs and holds ‘em up high, pressing a kiss to every expanse of skin near your pussy, but never on the exact spot you want him.

your mouth falls open. you almost whine his name, the ache between her legs growing unbearable. fuck, just eat my—

“leon!”

your toes curl, the gasp brushing past your lips in record time.

before you even have time to form a proper thought, you feel the firm muscle of his tongue press against your clothed cunt, wetting the fabric with a mix of his spit and your arousal.

“ohmygod,” you mewl, hands reaching, scratching against the sheets, desperate to grip his hair, something.

but he’s holding you down so fucking hard.

you can’t move if you tried. knees to your ears. vulnerable. spread out.

“need you,” he grunts, finally letting you go. you feel a light smack to the meat of your thigh. “roll over.”

that tone. so commanding. you have no choice but to listen.

rolling over, you’re given no warning as leon grabs both of your hips, angling your ass to the ceiling.

and he doesn’t stop there.

your sleep shorts are yanked down, and you swore you heard threads tearing, and they’re tossed aside over the bed.

next come your underwear, completely soiled, the fabric turning translucent with your juices and his spit.

now you’re laid bare, center completely sodden, face pressed against the pillows.

it’s an agonizing few seconds before you feel a warm, wet tongue nestled between your folds, rough hands just barely wrapping around your thighs.

“uhn,” your eyes roll back, his ministrations relentless against your puffy clit as he works you to orgasm. “ohmyfucking god.”

that sound, that fucking sound, he has to physically hold himself back from manhandling you into the sheets.

not yet… not yet, he has to tell himself. gotta take my time with ‘er.

but goddammit if it isn’t becoming more difficult to hold back his want.

he licks a stripe from your clit up to your hole, and your toes curl, drool pooling on the pillow as he— oh fuck — starts tongue-fucking your tight hole.

the flexed wet muscle stretches you out, thrusts in and out at breakneck speed inside you.

with a twitch of your thighs, you cry out, biting the pillow. “yes!”

it eggs him on, and as his thick fingers squeeze your thighs, the sounds of him tongue-fucking your twitching hole are absolutely obscene.

the cord in your belly was quickly uncoiling, about to snap, all over him.

“leon!” you scream into the pillows, nails scratching fabric as your hips jump, twitch, quickly turning into harsh convulsing.

“ohh, fuck,” it’s about to snap, it’s about to snap.

leon’s switched from giving your hole attention to sucking on your clit, hard.

you dive right over the edge, spilling your fluids all over his pointy nose. it leaks downward, toward your clit, and he laps it up like a cat to milk.

you shake, rocky on your knees, and if it wasn’t for leon holding you by your thighs, you’d have collapsed onto your stomach.

“that’s it,” his baritone washes over you, warmth reserved only for you. “that’s a girl.”

sitting back on his haunches, he wipes his glistening mouth on his arm, focus solely on you as you’re rolled onto your side. he slides in behind you, his front to your back.

you feel warm breath on your ear he comes close, lips brushing along your lobe. “you have no fuckin’ idea what you do t’me, sweetheart,”

a shiver runs down your back, ass pressing against his hardness. a stark reminder of how badly he wants you.

“i’m gonna have to ruin you if you keep this up,” nimble fingers tug his plaid pants and underwear down, just enough to let his cock free. “been thinkin’ about this since i got home.”

you bite down on your lip, clenching around nothing. empty. too empty. you need him inside you. now.

“don’t think i’ve been so hard in my fuckin’ life,” he rumbles into the shell of your ear, the tip of him nudging against your slick folds. teasing you.

“can you give me that, sweetheart?” he whispers, dragging his length along your slit, rubbing the tip against your oversensitive clit. “lemme have your sweet pussy?”

with a needy whine, you manage a nod. panting, heart thundering against your rib cage. you’re nothing but a mess. a mess that’s all his.

“good,” he sighs against the spot under your ear, sinking his cock into you slowly. “good girl.”

he’s more width than he his length. realistically, leon’s average at best. a grower than a shower, but not by much. doesn’t matter though; he knows how to use it.

when he’s buried to the hilt, pelvic bone against your ass, a hand squeezes your stomach, right around your navel.

“feel that?” biiig squeeze. he can feel himself through the bulge he’s created in your belly. “‘s all me. for you. you hear me?”

he’s slurring, drunk. not from his favorite cheap whiskey, but from you. all you. always you.

the moment he sinks into you, it’s all done. all forgotten. every horror, every tragedy, every death he’s witnessed. it just washes away. he crawls into hell when he walks out that door, but now he has a reason to crawl out of it.

“mhm,” you whimper, rolling your hips back, needing more.

“oh— fuck,” he sucks in a breath through his teeth, meets you with a harder thrust of his own. your body jolts, but he’s got you. arm wrapped tight around your waist. “you feel so good, baby.”

the praise goes straight to your pussy, clenching around his rock-hard length, which works in and out. slow, desperate. just shy of ravaging you.

plap, plap, plap. skin against skin, as he thrusts restlessly.

“jesus—“ his hips stutter, and he readjusts. hand sliding up your front to grasp your tits, shirt bunched under your arms. “fuck, you’re perfect.”

with his free arm, he lifts up your leg, holding you under the knee before wrecking your insides. needy, quick thrusts that make the mattress springs creak. nothing but shallow breaths against your ear.

“so fuckin’ perfect,” his mouth works down, presses open-mouthed kisses to your sweat-slick neck, all while his hands squeeze you hard enough to leave bruises, thrusts quick enough to know you’ll be sore tomorrow. himself, too.

“ah— shit,” your eyes flutter shut, head weak against the pillow. the sensation of his bruising thrusts and sloppy neck kisses sending you to the bring of flying into the next dimension. “gonna cum, gonna cum!”

“i know, sweetie,” leon pants against your neck, voice shaking as he lets go of your leg, rolls on top of you, legs over your thighs as he plows you into the mattress.

the new position allows him to fuck deeper. he bites your shoulder with the perfect amount of pressure.

“unh, fuck—“ he grunts, cock twitching, and you can feel it. like an engine revving up, ready to fill you with every drop of his essence. “can i cum inside?”

it’s a question twinged with desperation and you’re just as desperate, on the brink of reaching your second orgasm.

shakily, fucked out, you nod, sweat dripping down your temples. “cum inside— unh! cum inside me, please.”

that weak whimper, the begging. he can’t say no to you, can’t not give you what you want. you want him to fill you up, he’s gonna.

with a few shuddery final thrusts, leon groans into your flesh as he bottoms out, stills, and cums. more than he ever has. it doesn’t seem to stop. it’s starting to spill out your plugged hole, drip onto the sheets— he can feel it. with every twitch of his sensitive dick.

“fuck,” he pants, not yet pulling out of you. he just wants to sit, feel you. warm and tight around his softening cock.

sinking down next to you on the bed, leon pulls you against his chest, not yet wanting to disconnect your bodies.

“you okay?” he wonders, voice a touch tired. more so than before. but nothing, not even the pillow calling his name will stop him from taking care of you. “not too rough, was i?”

with an airy chuckle, you shake your head weakly. “no… no, it was perfect.”

you hear a soft chuckle mirroring your own from behind you. “that’s good.”

—

it’s quiet. comfortably quiet as you two lay in the afterglow of your lovemaking. no talking, no small-talk, just you and him lying together, connected so intimately.

“would you,” leon kisses the back of your neck. “be against takin’ a bath?”

wanna take care of you, but he doesn’t say it aloud.

“yeah… of course,” you yawn, that post-orgasm tiredness seeping in.

“alright,” another kiss, this time to the side of your neck. he pulls out of you, slowly, as to not disturb you and your peace.

the bed’s emptier when he leaves, but the house feels safer, warmer than before with his presence alone.

from the other room, you hear running water and you know this is only the start of his consistent aftercare routine.

[stayycalm]

“I Want You to Stay”

𝓹airing ꒱ ˒˓ Kim Seungmin x Female!reader ˒˓ established relationship. 𝓰enre/ angst, hurt- no comfort, sometimes love is short lived, staying isn’t easy but leaving is harder.

[ 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆. ] — here is a requested fic for @vernorica123 💛 Let me know what u think! <3

You used to think love songs were easy to sing. Because in the beginning, they were.

The lyrics practically danced off your lips when you thought of Seungmin, soft smiles over shared boba, his sweatshirt sleeves pushed over your hands as you walked hand-in-hand after practice. The thrill of stolen kisses in studio corners. His laughter echoing in your voice memos.

But now?

Now the words got stuck in your throat like glass.

⸻

Comeback season wasn’t kind to anyone, not you, not him. The both of you were artists, and in this industry, that meant long nights, caffeine instead of sleep, and a thousand things to do that left no time for love.

You tried to be patient.

Tried to understand the silenced calls, tried not to take the “read” on your last message personally, Tried to excuse the way his replies started to come hours late, clipped and cold.

But it was getting harder.

Harder not to wonder if he’d grown tired of you, if he missed the way things used to be, If maybe, just maybe, someone else had caught his eye.

⸻

You hadn’t planned to run into him today.

You were both performing at the same music show, which was not uncommon. But you hadn’t seen him at all, and the ache in your chest felt a little heavier knowing he hadn’t come looking for you either.

So during a short break between rehearsals, you decided to find him. Just to say hi. Just to remind him that you were still here, still loving him, still waiting for him to love you back the way he used to.

And then you saw him.

Leaning against a hallway wall. Talking to a girl whose back was to you, long hair cascading down her designer stage outfit, voice light and sweet as she laughed at something he said.

Your heart stopped.

He was smiling. The smile you hadn’t seen in weeks.

His eyes crinkled the same way they used to for you.

You watched, frozen in the shadows, as the girl reached out and gently touched his arm, and Seungmin didn’t pull away. Her members called her name from down the hall, and she waved goodbye before disappearing around the corner.

Only then did you step forward.

“Hey,” you said, your voice thin, barely holding itself together. “I… wanted to say hi.”

His smile faltered when he saw you.

“Oh. I didn’t know you were here.” He didn’t step closer.

Didn’t ask how you were doing, didn’t offer a hug.

“Who was that?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

Seungmin sighed, looking away. “Just someone from another group. It’s not a big deal.”

“Didn’t look like nothing,” you said quietly. “You were smiling.”

He rolled his eyes. “So now I can’t talk to other girls?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?” he snapped, suddenly frustrated. “You’re so insecure lately. I can’t even have a normal conversation without you reading into it.”

“Because you don’t talk to me anymore!” you shot back, your voice cracking. “You leave me on read, you cancel our plans, you make me feel like I’m not even your girlfriend anymore—”

“Look, I don’t wanna do this.” His words were tired as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Don’t wanna do what?” Your voice waivers for a second, waiting for his reply.

“This—“ he waves his hand flippantly in the air. “This whole going around and around in a circle thing.”

His words spark something in you. “Yeah well if you actually tried to spend time with me we wouldn’t have to—“

“because I’m busy!” he said, his voice rising. “You think I have time to babysit your feelings when I barely have time to sleep?”

The silence after his words was deafening.

You blinked, Once. Twice.

Like maybe if you did it enough, the tears would stay in place.

“I’m not asking you to babysit me,” you whispered. “I’m asking you to care.”

He said nothing, and that silence said everything.

You turned and walked away before he could see you break down.

⸻

The stage lights were warm against your skin, but they couldn’t thaw the ice in your chest.

You stood under the spotlight, mic in hand, as the soft instrumental of your new ballad began to play in your in-ears. The crowd was waiting. Cameras trained on your face. Your cue approaching fast.

But your heart was somewhere else, still shattered in that hallway.

The first verse was shaky, your voice barely finding its footing. The emotions were too close. Too raw.

But as you reached the bridge, the words you once sang with sweet hope, something changed.

You sang them lower. Slower, your sorrow seeping into the syllables, the grief in every note.

Makes me feel like I can’t live without you

It takes me all the way

I want you to stay

You weren’t even sure your mic could catch the tears falling past your lips.

The crowd applauded when it ended, but you barely heard it.

All you could hear was your own voice, echoing back to you with new meaning.

You wanted to stay.

God, you wanted to stay.

But Seungmin didn’t make space for you anymore.

And love, real love, needed space to bloom.

You bowed and walked offstage with your head held high, even though your heart was in pieces.

Because sometimes, the strongest thing you can do… is leave.

Tag list

@vernorica123 @quaxing-lour @staytinyarmy @elisabeeee @stronglychanbiased @loz3389 @kittykatz1227 @jenzlovschan @mysticpolicedonut @roron33 @socandytales @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @dungeonduchess @ongodimintoomanyfandoms @thereadinglurker @harmonygal @thackery-binks @ghostly-xxo

[rikiszn]

BENEATH THE SHELVES — p.sh

⋆˙⟡ SYNOPSIS: You never meant to fall in love with the gorgeous, sweater-wearing librarian. But every glance he sent over the top of his glasses, every soft “shh” followed by a hidden smile, every brush of his hand when passing you a book—it all led to this.

FEAT. librarian!sunghoon x f!reader & bestfriend yoonchae

⋆˙⟡ GENRE: slow burn, romantic tension, fluff, suggestive, mutual pining, eventual lovers but it’s not written

⋆˙⟡ THEMES: YEARNING. private moments in public spaces, soft domesticity

ivy’s note ꒰ঌ ໒꒱: hi hi!! this fic was HEAVILY inspired by bibi’s song Scott and Zelda >< the reader is like painfully awkward in this sorry 💔 also librarian hoon was something I didn’t know I needed until I wrote this..

You found the place by accident.

Tucked between a sleepy little bakery and a plant shop, the old building didn’t look like much from the outside. Ivy crawled up the brick walls, windows fogged slightly from the heat indoors. You only stepped in because it was drizzling that day and you needed somewhere quiet to study before your afternoon class.

Inside, it was like something out of a Pinterest board. Soft lighting. Worn armchairs. Rows of old wooden bookshelves and the faint scent of paper and vanilla. Not crowded like the campus library. Not noisy like the cafés.

Just… perfect.

You’d been coming ever since.

At first, it was about the peace. You’d set up at the same table every time, order the same overpriced oat milk latte from the café window, and grind out essays like your life depended on it. No distractions. Just you, your laptop, and the soft shuffle of pages turning in the distance.

But that changed the day you saw him.

You didn’t even know his name. All you knew was that one second you were fixing your highlighter smudge, and the next… he walked past.

And you forgot what year it was.

He wore a loose oatmeal-colored sweater and dark slacks, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, hair slightly tousled like he’d run his hands through it out of frustration. His jawline was unfair. His eyes were calm and unreadable. He moved so quietly you weren’t even sure he was real until he glanced at you—

—and your breath caught.

Not even dramatically. Just subtly. Like your lungs were suddenly too full, like the air between you wasn’t meant to exist.

From that point on, it was over for you.

You tried to be normal. You really did. But every time he passed your table, you stiffened like you were about to be called on in class. Every time he adjusted the books behind the counter or helped a visitor find something, you stared like a woman possessed.

Yoonchae, your best friend and partner in all things delusional, was the first to notice.

“He’s hot. I get it,” she said one day as you recounted—again—how he wore a dark green cardigan that made him look like an aesthetic wet dream. “But if you keep drooling behind your laptop like that, he’s gonna call security.”

You groaned. “I’m being subtle.”

“You’re being obsessed.”

You didn’t argue. You couldn’t. Because it was true.

Something about him made you crazy. The way he read while standing. The way he rubbed his thumb along the page corners like they were delicate. The way his voice, when you did occasionally hear it, was soft and low and gentle.

And worst of all—he never looked at you twice.

Which was fine. Normal. Expected.

I mean, you were just a random girl with messy notes and too many pens. He probably had a girlfriend. Or ten. Probably dated someone cool and mysterious who wore linen and knew how to pronounce literary names properly.

You?

You just stared like a weirdo from across the room and wrote “Park Sunghoon” in the corner of your notebook out of pure delusion.

…Okay. Maybe not so normal.

But you were content to admire from afar. He was perfect, and perfect people didn’t look at girls like you.

Right?

You weren’t delusional.

Well.

You were a little delusional.

But you had boundaries. You weren’t about to go full “main character in a romance manhwa” and think just because the gorgeous librarian looked like he walked out of a perfume ad, it meant he saw you the same way you saw him.

He probably had someone.

He had to.

No one that ethereal, that composed, that casually hot—like, “didn’t even try and still ruined your life” hot—was single. That was just basic math. Besides, when he stood behind the desk, typing something into the computer with one hand and adjusting his glasses with the other, he had this ring on his finger.

Okay, yes. It was his index finger.

But it was silver. And sleek. And definitely suspicious.

You told Yoonchae this in a hushed voice, ducked low in the library café corner like you were a gossip columnist hiding from paparazzi.

“He has a ring,” you whispered, sipping your overpriced latte like it was wine. “A ring. That’s basically a red flag.”

She didn’t even look up from her croissant. “On his index finger?”

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t mean anything, babe. Maybe he just likes accessories.”

“Or maybe he’s in love and will be proposing any second and I’ll die alone.”

Yoonchae rolled her eyes so hard you could practically hear them. “You literally don’t even know his name.”

You paused.

“…That’s not the point.”

(But you did know his name. You overheard someone call him Mr. Park once, and another time, a little kid handed him a drawing and said, “Sunghoon hyung!” so yeah. You connected the dots. You were, unfortunately, a genius when it came to your library crush.)

Still, knowing his name didn’t help.

Because now, instead of calling him “hot librarian” in your head, you were calling him Sunghoon—softly, shyly, like the word didn’t belong in your mouth but you still wanted to say it anyway.

And it only made it worse when he spoke to you.

It wasn’t often. Just polite, brief exchanges. “Do you need help finding anything?” or “The printer’s fixed now, if you were waiting.” Or the time he pointed at the study rooms and said, “You’re free to use those if you need a quieter space.”

You had stuttered something unintelligible. He nodded with a tiny smile and walked away like your brain hadn’t just completely short-circuited.

And every time after, you played the moment on a loop in your head.

But it meant nothing. It was just him being… professional. Calm. Like always.

And you? You were just another girl with a laptop, a caffeine addiction, and a mild obsession with the way his sleeves looked pushed up to his elbows.

The only thing you could do was admire from afar and rant to Yoonchae about it like it was your full-time job.

Which is exactly what you did, later that night.

“He literally asked if I needed help finding something,” you said dramatically, flopping back onto your bed and flinging your phone onto your stomach so Yoonchae could hear every single ounce of heartbreak in your voice.

“And did you?” she asked dryly.

“Yes. His number.”

Yoonchae groaned. “Oh my god.”

“I’m never gonna recover. Do you think he reads poetry? He looks like he reads poetry. Like, the really sad kind. With metaphors. God, I bet he smells like clean laundry and tragic backstory.”

“…You’re insane.”

You sighed, eyes on the ceiling. “I just wanna know what his deal is. Like… does he have someone? Does he go home to someone? Does he—”

“You’re spiraling.”

You were. But it didn’t stop.

Because every time you walked into that library now, you weren’t thinking about essays or quizzes or deadlines.

You were thinking about him.

The way his sweater draped over his frame. The way he leaned on the counter while reading. The way his eyes flicked up sometimes and your heart flipped like a loose page.

You were thinking about what it would feel like if, just once, he looked at you like he wanted to know your name, too.

But he probably never would.

You were trying to be normal.

Really. You were. You came to the library that day with a full to-do list, highlighters arranged like weapons in front of you, a color-coded planner, and your biggest iced americano yet.

You had every intention of studying.

Until you saw his arms.

He was standing behind the desk, reorganizing something. His sleeves were rolled up. Not all the way—just enough to expose the strong line of his forearms. And the veins. God, the veins.

They trailed up beneath pale skin like delicate lightning bolts, running from the backs of his hands to the bend of his elbows, subtle but so there. And you knew you shouldn’t be staring—truly, deeply knew it—but then he adjusted his glasses and leaned forward slightly, and you caught a glimpse of a tiny paper cut on his index finger.

It shouldn’t have been hot.

It really shouldn’t have.

But suddenly you were biting your straw, brain completely abandoning the word innocent as a concept.

“Focus,” you muttered to yourself, snapping your eyes down to your notes.

You underlined the same sentence three times.

You wrote:

‘heart rate elevation caused by mild crush’ — look into this??

But you couldn’t look into anything. Not when he walked past your table just moments later, carrying a stack of books. You barely turned your head—just enough to get a glimpse of his back as he disappeared between the shelves.

It should’ve ended there. You should’ve gone back to your work. But your brain? Your traitorous, sinful, corrupted-by-one-hot-librarian brain?

It went somewhere else.

You imagined following him. Just once. Wandering between the stacks, pretending to browse. Getting closer. Close enough to hear the rustle of his clothes, the quiet sound of his breath as he scanned the titles. Maybe he’d turn around and catch you. Maybe he’d smirk, knowing you weren’t there for the books.

Maybe he’d lean down and whisper, “Were you looking for something?”

You swallowed. Nope. Too much. You slammed your thighs together under the table and tried to will yourself out of the mental spiral.

And yet, it only got worse.

Because now you were wondering—

Would he turn your page?

Would he read you slowly, line by line, gentle and careful?

Or would he fold you open freely, mark his place, come back again and again just to memorize your favorite parts?

You slapped your own cheek.

Actually slapped it.

A quiet little smack echoed in your corner of the library, and a few heads turned. You smiled awkwardly and ducked down behind your laptop like you were just stretching.

No thoughts. No metaphors. No vein fantasies.

You needed help.

The kind that couldn’t be found in a self-help book or a breathing app. The kind that sounded suspiciously like Yoonchae’s voice telling you to get a grip.

You tapped your phone screen under the table and texted her:

you need to institutionalize me

like literally. i’m about to walk up to this man and bark.

yoonchae 🤍:

oh no. what’s he wearing today

you:

GLASSES. veins. paper cut.

i want him to destroy me and then respectfully shelve me.

yoonchae 🤍:

girl

you:

i want to be his favorite book.

yoonchae 🤍:

STOPPPPPP

You locked your phone and groaned into your hands. You were never going to make it through the semester. Not if he kept existing like that. Not if he kept walking past you with that calm, unreadable face, like he didn’t know he was casually ending your will to function.

And then—just as you peeked through your fingers—

He looked at you.

Directly.

Not just a passing glance. Not an accidental moment of eye contact. A real, solid, unmistakable look.

You froze. He didn’t look away.

It was only a few seconds. But it felt like hours. Like everything else faded—the fluorescent lights, the whispering students, even the way your laptop fan was screaming for dear life. All of it blurred into the background.

Until Sunghoon blinked, tilted his head just slightly, and offered you the tiniest, softest smile.

And then he turned and walked away.

You sat there in silence.

Then slowly, shakily, you typed in your planner:

today i was seen. and i have not recovered.

You were in a trance.

There was no other way to explain it. You hadn’t turned a page in ten minutes. Your eyes were staring blankly at your screen, your fingers curled under your chin in a way you hoped looked mysterious and intellectual—but really, you were just trying not to bite your nails and scream.

You kept picturing it.

You, backed up against a bookshelf. Him, pressed against you. His voice low, breath warm, glasses slightly fogged. That sharp jawline dipped to your neck. His hands—god, those hands—gripping your waist like you were something he’d been trying not to touch for far too long.

You blinked hard.

Nope. No. No.

This was a library. You were a student. He was… him.

You physically shook your head like it would rattle the thoughts out, but it only made your ponytail bounce and your heart pound harder. You weren’t okay. You hadn’t been okay since he smiled at you yesterday. It was like your brain had taken that one tiny moment and cranked it up to full-blown delusional romance movie mode.

You were still spaced out, eyes glazed over, completely absorbed in the soft-motion picture fantasy playing in your head when—

“Hey.”

You flinched.

Your heart stuttered so hard it felt like your soul did a backflip.

Because it was him.

Sunghoon.

Standing right next to your table, just a few feet away. Up close, he looked even better—if that was even possible. His sweater today was navy blue, slightly oversized, the collar of his button-up peeking out from underneath. His hair was still a little messy, his glasses sitting low on his nose, and his fingers…

Oh, god. His fingers were fidgeting with the hem of his sleeve.

You stared.

You panicked.

You forgot what words were.

“I—hi. Um. Hello?” you stammered like a medieval ghost who hadn’t spoken in 300 years.

He smiled. That same soft smile that made your stomach fold in half.

“You come here a lot,” he said.

You blinked.

Was he…?

Was he starting a conversation?

“Uh—y-yeah. I—I like it here. It’s really cozy. And quiet. Mostly. Except for when I’m being weird. Not that I’m—uh, weird all the time—”

You wanted to die.

His eyes crinkled just slightly behind his glasses. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I just noticed.”

He noticed you.

Your hands were sweating. You subtly wiped them on your thighs under the table and tried to remember what normal humans said when spoken to by devastatingly beautiful men.

“I’m sorry,” you said, trying to recover. “I was totally spaced out just now. You caught me mid—um—existential thought.”

Sunghoon tilted his head. “About?”

You absolutely could not say, “about you pinning me to a bookshelf and kissing the life out of me.”

So instead, you coughed. “Deadlines. You know. College.”

“Ah.” He nodded, pretending to believe you. “Well… don’t let me interrupt.”

He glanced at the book sitting on your table—a slim little poetry volume you’d grabbed on impulse.

“You reading this?”

You looked at it. Then at him. Then at the book again. “…Yes. Definitely. Reading it deeply.”

“Yeah?” He reached forward—his hand so close to yours—and gently flipped it open to a random page. “This one’s my favorite.”

You looked down.

The poem was short. Quiet. Beautiful.

The last line read:

“And still, I turn toward you.”

You swallowed. Hard. “It’s… it’s a good one.”

Sunghoon smiled again, just a little. “You have good taste.”

Before you could formulate a response—any response at all—he was already stepping back, returning to the desk like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just dropped a live grenade into your chest and walked away.

You sat there frozen, eyes wide, breathing shallow.

He noticed you.

He remembered you.

He knew which poem was his favorite—and told you.

You stared down at the page again, lips parted, trying to recover.

But all your brain could chant now was:

He approached me. He spoke to me. He saw me.

And for the first time since you stepped into that library…

You wondered if maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t as far away as you thought.

“HE SPOKE TO YOU?!”

“Shhh!”

“NO, DON’T YOU ‘SHHH’ ME. WHAT DO YOU MEAN SUNGHOON-SWEATER-GLASSES-SEXY-INHUMAN-FINE-AS-HELL-LIBRARIAN SPOKE TO YOU—”

“Yoonchae, people can hear you—”

You were practically dragging her by the wrist away from the campus quad, cheeks on fire, heart still beating like it hadn’t slowed down since yesterday. The moment. The sentence. The way he smiled.

It was playing on a loop in your brain.

“He said I come in often,” you hissed, still breathless. “Like—like he noticed me. And then—then he picked up the book I had out and opened to his favorite poem and said I had good taste.”

Yoonchae stopped walking and grabbed you by the shoulders like she was about to shake you into another dimension.

“You don’t understand,” she said seriously. “Do you know what that means?”

“That I’ve officially lost it?”

“That he’s in love with you.”

You burst into laughter. “He literally just said hi.”

“And called you out for haunting his library like a lovesick Victorian ghost! Babe. That’s FLIRTING. Librarian code for ‘I’ve been mentally undressing you since Chapter 2.’”

You were about to argue—but then you remembered the way he looked at you.

The soft smile. The crinkle of his eyes. The poem.

“And still, I turn toward you.”

Okay. Maybe you were a little haunted.

Still, you needed more. More interaction. More words. More of that calm voice and those stupid fingers with their stupid book-handling grace.

So, naturally, you came up with the dumbest possible excuse to talk to him again.

You were going to check out a book.

Something you never did here. You always studied, took photos of passages, maybe read in the corner chair if you finished an assignment early—but you never used your actual student library card. Not once.

But today? You were holding a thick, worn volume of modern poetry with trembling hands and trying not to look like you were about to pass out as you approached the counter.

He was there, of course. Where else would he be?

Sunghoon looked exactly the same and yet somehow worse for your heart—black sweater this time, sleeves pushed up again, glasses slightly askew like he’d been adjusting them while reading.

You cleared your throat. “Hi. Um. I’d like to check this out.”

He looked up.

When his eyes met yours, it was like everything else fell away. Like the shelves and the overhead lighting and even the people around you blurred out into nothing, and it was just you and him and the book you were using as a decoy for your feelings.

His lips quirked—a smile. Not the soft, distant kind this time.

This one felt… warm. Familiar.

“Glad to see you finally checking something out,” he said, scanning the book with a tiny beep. “You’re usually glued to your laptop.”

You laughed nervously. “Yeah. I just—thought it was time. The shelves have been… calling to me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Calling to you?”

“Metaphorically,” you said quickly. “Not, like, literally. That would be weird.”

“You’d be surprised,” he murmured, and oh god, his voice was deeper when he was teasing.

He handed the book back, fingertips brushing yours just slightly.

“Due in two weeks,” he said. “Unless you want to renew it. That’s allowed too.”

You nodded, trying to remember how to breathe.

“Cool. Thank you. Um. Have a good day.”

“You too,” he said.

And then—

As you turned to walk away, you swore—swore—you heard him say your name.

Soft. Like a bookmark sliding into place.

You didn’t even realize you were smiling until you reached your usual table again and caught your reflection in your laptop screen.

And god, you looked like you were in love.

It started with the rain.

You hadn’t even planned to stay that long—it was supposed to be a quick session. Just one annotated chapter, one latte, maybe a passing glimpse of Sunghoon’s stupidly perfect hands shelving poetry or adjusting his glasses while he read.

But the clouds rolled in fast.

One minute, the sky outside the big library windows was soft and gray. The next, it cracked open with thunder so loud it rattled your bones.

You jumped slightly. So did a few others. And then came the rain.

Not just drizzle. A downpour.

People started to leave in a wave of whispers and frantic packing—umbrellas opening in the doorway, soaked shoes squeaking against tile.

You stayed.

You didn’t know why, really. It wasn’t like you had a plan. You just… stayed. Fingers curled around your drink. Heart beating a little faster every time you glanced toward the desk.

Because he was still there.

Sunghoon.

Still calm. Still quiet. Still flipping through pages like the world outside wasn’t cracking apart at the seams.

And then, one by one, the library emptied.

Until it was just you.

And him.

You hadn’t meant to stare. But your eyes kept drifting—past your laptop, past your notes, past the growing puddles outside—to him.

He was reshelving something now, sleeves once again rolled up, one hand gently supporting a stack of books while the other ran along the spines. He looked completely at ease. Completely focused.

Completely beautiful.

You told yourself to stop staring. You told yourself to study. You told yourself he wouldn’t even notice you were still here.

Until—

“Staying out the storm?”

His voice.

His voice. Closer than it should’ve been.

You turned so fast your laptop almost slid off the table.

He was right there. Just a few feet away, holding a worn, dark green volume in his hand. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes… they held something you hadn’t seen before.

Curiosity. Maybe amusement.

Warmth.

You laughed softly, trying not to combust. “Yeah. I don’t have an umbrella. And I figured… it’s cozy in here. Plus I have studying to pretend to do.”

He smiled. “Pretend to do?”

“I’m not great at pretending. You’ve probably noticed.”

He leaned slightly against the edge of your table, book still in his hand, one brow raised. “You mean how you always sit here and stare off into space like you’re writing poetry in your head?”

You blinked. “…You noticed that?”

“I notice a lot.”

Your breath caught.

There it was again. That shift. That slow, deliberate tilt in the air—like something fragile and heavy hanging between you, finally lowering itself into reach.

“I didn’t think you… noticed me,” you admitted, voice quieter than you meant.

He looked at you for a long, silent second.

“I’ve noticed you since the second week you started coming in,” he said.

You blinked.

Sunghoon looked down at the book in his hand and flipped it open absentmindedly. “You always sit in the same spot. Always bring two highlighters but only ever use one. Your coffee orders change depending on how tired you are. And you hum when you’re really focused.”

You were frozen.

No breath. No words. Just—

He saw you.

“And,” he added, eyes flicking back up, “you read that poem like it meant something to you.”

You swallowed. “It… did.”

The thunder rumbled again. The library felt quieter than it ever had. The overhead lights buzzed softly. Somewhere, a book slid against another on a shelf, settling into place.

He took a slow step closer.

And then—

“I shouldn’t be saying this,” he said softly. “But… I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while.”

Your heart flipped, fluttered, dove off a cliff.

“Why didn’t you?” you whispered.

He looked down, then back at you.

“You looked like you were out of my league.”

You stared.

He said it so simply. So casually. Like it wasn’t the most ridiculous thing you’d ever heard.

“You think I’m out of your league?” you asked, voice rising in disbelief.

Sunghoon’s smile twisted a little, sheepish. “You’re… really pretty. And you always seem so focused. Confident. I thought maybe you were just here to study. That you wouldn’t want someone like me bothering you.”

You were breathless.

There were a thousand things you could’ve said.

But you didn’t say any of them.

You just stood.

Walked slowly around the table.

And looked up at him.

“Sunghoon,” you said quietly.

His name felt like a secret. Soft in your mouth.

He blinked. “Yeah?”

“…You’ve never been bothering me.”

He stared at you like he was reading something important—something hidden in the margins. And then, barely louder than the rain outside—

“Can I sit with you?”

You nodded.

He took the chair beside you.

And for the first time, it wasn’t you staring from across the room anymore.

It was the two of you. Together. In a quiet corner of a storm-drenched library. Sharing space, silence, and something you both finally stopped pretending didn’t exist.

After that stormy evening—after the moment, the confession, the way he said your name like it was made of silk—you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Not that you were doing well before. But now?

Now it was terminal.

Because everything had changed.

Sunghoon started greeting you when you came in. Not just a nod or a polite smile—but quiet, careful words. “Hey. You’re back.” “Long day?” “There’s a spot open near the window.”

Every word felt like it had weight.

And every time you sat down, there was something… different waiting for you.

Sometimes it was a note, scribbled on a scrap of paper.

“The poem you liked? There’s another one

in the red anthology on the third shelf.”

Sometimes it was a book. One you’d never touched, but one he left with a paper tab sticking out from a marked page. Your heart flipped every time you opened it and saw a line he’d highlighted.

“She did not know she was the poem, the pause, the breath between.”

Once, it was a quote folded neatly on top of your laptop.

“Some people are so soft you could write whole stories on their skin.”

You hadn’t even seen him leave it.

You were in too deep. Drowning in quiet affection, subtle gestures, and that look he gave you every time your fingers brushed across the circulation desk.

Yoonchae was convinced you were already dating.

“HE’S LEAVING YOU LOVE NOTES,” she texted at 1AM. “IN BOOKS. WHAT’S NEXT, A SCARF THAT SMELLS LIKE HIM??”

Honestly? At this rate? You wouldn’t be surprised.

Because he was getting bolder.

Not all at once. Never in a way that would scare you. But slowly. Gently. Like he was learning you by heart.

You’d be walking down an aisle, scanning for something random—and you’d feel him behind you. Close, but not too close. Just enough to make the hair on your arms rise.

“Looking for something specific?” he’d ask.

You’d turn around, trying not to trip over your own thoughts. “Just browsing.”

And then he’d reach beside you, pluck something from the shelf—his hand brushing yours like a secret—and say, “Try this one.”

Every time, the book would be perfect.

He started sitting with you, too.

Only when it was quiet. Only when he was off shift. But he’d find you—your usual table, your laptop open, coffee going cold—and he’d drop into the seat across from you like he belonged there.

Sometimes you’d talk. Sometimes you wouldn’t.

Sometimes he’d just watch you read, fingers tapping absently against his mug, eyes so soft you felt like you were unraveling under them.

And then one afternoon, he said it.

“I saved you a spot today.”

You blinked. “What?”

He smiled, almost shy. “I put your favorite poetry book at the end of the table. Opened to the poem you liked. I didn’t want anyone else to sit there.”

Your heart did a full somersault. “You’re… reserving tables for me now?”

“I like seeing you there,” he said simply. “Makes the library feel quieter. In a good way.”

You couldn’t breathe. You actually couldn’t breathe.

“I like being here,” you whispered.

He smiled. “I know.”

And that’s how it started—how the space between you shrank down to inches. How every glance held more meaning, how your fingertips lingered longer when they brushed, how every soft little smile from him felt like a door creaking open.

You were a page in progress.

And you were so ready for him to read more.