#THEY ALL HAVE MATCHING SCARFS CALLING IT NOW

[plumipal]

The Tattoo (part one)

After scarabias overblot, and seeing what ace and Deuce were willikg to do for you, you were so touched that you decided ro get them tattooed on your body as a small heart and a spade. After that chaos ensues-

I'd you wanna read the while prolouge, then it's here

Ace is oh so smug! What's this? You chose him?? Of course you would! he was your first friend here in twisted wonderland, and he will continue to be your first in everything else... <3

He cant stop bragging about the tattoo, landing him in several collars from an enraged riddle and in frights with equally enraged students, but they can't do anything because you chose him of course! (Keep speaking like that delulu man and you will end up seriously hurt).

He cant stop thinking of the tattoo, loving how it matches his red heart on the eye to a T. As soon as he has enough money he's getting a tattoo of you, he promises himself that. He might ad well also get you a wedding ring right here right now-

He wants you to fill in the heart, as to show you chose him and not that goody two shoes Deuce! Pleaee please please do...

Deuce wants to cry out of happiness. You, the most beautiful and amazing and awesome and loveable and most godlike (crush) friend he could have, you have a tattoo of something referring to him..? He cant believe it. He feels his eyes well up in tears, it's too good to be true.

But he sees the tattoo etched into your skin, and he cant help bur he of so mesmerised with it. He cant stop staring, stop touching, stop csressing the scarfed skin where the ink is. He truly is Lucky isn't He...

He has already called his mom and told her EVERYHTING (well, everything this he has "seen" (delusional boy)) that has happened, and started taking about ehat wedding ring to give you with her. She is so exited her little boy is having such a beautiful relationship, you cant break her heart now can you..

Like Ace, he wants you to fill in the spade, to show that you chose him! Not that meany yucky Ace! He will always be the better option after all- he knows how to take care of you (and how to beat up the others!)

Cater feels awful. He wants to cry, he wants to sob, he wants to go lie in a hole and pass away. He thought you two were such great friends (he wants that friends to lovers arc)... why, why did you only get Ace and Deuce?? Is he not goof enough for you? He will change, he promises! Just please love him, chose him...

He will plant small hints. Oh this cute trend about matching tattoos, oh look this design looks amazing, yada yada yada... he will have a matching tattoo with you, and he will pull any strings to make it happen.

Trey feels off. He knows he isn't too close to you like those two Ace and Deuce, bur he knows you value him. Why did you only chose those two then? You csnt just get half the deck like that, its all or nothing. He tills you this only to have a chance of you getting his symbol on you. He would do anything for it.

He decides to do it himself, to show you how good it would look on you. You would look simply divine with that clover on you, you both know it. Please, please chose him, he will take care of you oh so well...

Riddle is furious. Red on the face, voice pitched up a notch, his hand reaching for his pen. This is unacceptable!! How DARE you marr your beautiful skin with these RULEBREAKERS symbols??!?!? He has to tlak some sense into you.

He expects a 10k word essay on how you were wrong and that you're sorry, along with a tart or two and a matching tattoo with him (that is bigger than both Ace and Deuce's tattoos combined-)

Jack is conflicted. He is in your close circle of friends. He hangs our with you everyday, he takes care of you (unlike those two dumbass cards), why did you chose them over him? It's unfair.

He will be way more protective of you. He has to show you he's the best for you, your one true mate, for life.. it can only be him, no one else. He would scent you as well, just like ruggie.

Ruggie wants to sob right in front of you. Why would you chose someone over him? He knows he isn't the smartest, the richest, bur he sure loves you the most! He will fight tooth and nail for that title!-

He will show it to you, he will show how he is the nest husband for you that there is, the most attentive! He will show you...

He also cannot afford to get you a tattoo, so instead he scents you, be that with his clothes, his cologne, anything that works he sure will do- for you, for your relationship..

Leona feels sick. You, chose someone over him? He is supposed to be your number one, you only.. just like how he is to you! This is unfair, he feels himself ger angrier and angrier the longer he thinks about it. He WILL have you and he for sure will have matching tattoos with your..

He is incredibly protective of you even after the chaos dies down, curling his tail around any of your available limbs and holding his hand right over the tattoo you have of those two dumbasses..

He even gives you some super expensive bracelets out of pure gold just to cover up that damn tattoo (he doesn't wanna hurt you but he still wants to rip that thing off of your body, only he gets to mark you)

I am incredibly sorry for the long wait, I got sick and have been so busy with everything else I couldn't get it done until now, bur I hope you all like the first part of the tattoo!!

Ily all and I wanna especially thank @yanknowalready for their beautiful writing in my comments, i would've made this post sm smaller if it weren't for your amazing ideas!- if anyone has ideas for tattoos for the other charas, ro tell in the comments I would love to hear them! <3

[paucubarsisimp]

hi, i was wondering if you're taking requests or not, and if you are I have one for Lamine. so basically he and his gf are together for a while now (like seven months), and at some point she had to meet his little brother, who isn't usually too close with anyone outside his family, so it was a surprise that he is with her (like he clings to her when she visits Lamine, or he wants to be hold be her and all that). and the scenario could be that after the match, Kenye wouldn't let Lamine too close to her, which could lead to small 'fight' that the gf finds funny and amusing.

mine now

pairing: lamine yamal x reader

summary: in which kenyé steals lamine’s girlfriend

warnings: none

taglist: @barcapix, @universefcb, @nngkay, @joaosnovia, @ilovebarcaaaa, @levidazai, lmk if you want to be added!

you’d been with lamine for seven months now. everything felt easy, like breathing—sweet texts before every match, late-night calls, soft kisses after long days. the only thing you hadn’t done yet? meet his little brother.

kenyé.

he wasn’t the kind of kid who opened up to people. lamine always said, “he’s super shy—he doesn’t even talk to some of my teammates.” so when lamine looked at you one morning and said, “come over tonight—he asked if you could,” you’d just blinked at him.

he asked?

you’d barely stepped into the house before you felt it—tiny eyes watching you. there was a cartoon playing in the background, the warm smell of dinner filling the space. and then, there he was. peeking out from behind the couch.

lamine leaned in, whispering, “that’s him. he’s been asking about you all day.”

you crouched down gently, offering a soft smile. “hi, kenyé. i’m y/n. i’ve heard a lot about you.”

no response. just big brown eyes, blinking. lamine gave you that look again—he might run. but then, slowly, kenyé walked over. no words. no hesitation.

and then—arms up.

“…you want me to pick you up?” you asked softly.

a single nod.

you glanced back at lamine, who looked like he was witnessing a miracle, and then lifted kenyé carefully. he wrapped his arms around you like he’d done it a thousand times before.

“wow,” lamine mumbled, stunned. “he’s never done that with anyone.”

kenyé turned his face into your neck. “she smells nice.”

your heart just about melted right there. you smiled, hand brushing through his curls. “so do you.”

from that moment, you were his.

he held your hand during dinner. made you sit next to him for the movie. gave you his juice box without even blinking. when it was time to go, he clung to you like you were taking the sun with you.

“you’re mine now, okay?” he mumbled.

lamine, behind you, sighed. “this is ridiculous.”

you looked back at him with a teasing smile. “jealous?”

he raised an eyebrow. “of a toddler?”

you grinned. “a toddler who claimed me before you did.”

and from that moment on, lamine had two battles to fight: defenders on the pitch, and his three-year-old brother at home.

you were waiting by the tunnel, arms folded, scarf wrapped around your neck—his scarf, actually, the one he gave you after that one cold night in february. the match had just ended. barça won. lamine had played like a dream.

but the real show? was just about to start.

you didn’t even get the chance to take a step forward before you saw a tiny figure sprinting toward you.

“kenyé!” you laughed, catching him mid-run as he threw himself into your arms like you were the prize at the end of a race. he wrapped his arms around your neck and clung like a baby monkey. “you missed me that much, huh?”

“mm-hm,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “you smell like home.”

your heart squeezed. this kid.

a minute later, lamine walked out of the tunnel, jersey still damp, cheeks flushed, hair messy and perfect. he spotted you instantly, smile stretching wide across his face. he was already walking toward you, arms opening—

and then he saw kenyé.

wrapped around you. already.

lamine slowed. “…seriously?”

kenyé didn’t even look back. he just clung tighter.

lamine stopped in front of you, pretending to be calm but very much not. “bro. let go. that’s my girlfriend.”

“mine now,” kenyé mumbled.

“no,” lamine said, hands on his hips like he was negotiating with a stubborn teammate. “she’s literally not. she’s mine. she came here for me.”

kenyé tilted his head just enough to glance at him. “she came for me too.”

“you’re three.”

“and you’re loud.”

you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing. lamine looked like he’d just been disrespected in ten different languages.

“okay,” he said, trying a new tactic. “what if i give you ten minutes of extra screen time tonight?”

kenyé turned his face back into your neck.

“fifteen.”

no response.

“…twenty and i let you beat me in fifa.”

kenyé looked at him now, eyes narrowed. “i already beat you in fifa.”

“you cheated.”

“you’re just bad.”

“okay,” lamine groaned, stepping forward. “amor, seriously. can i just—can i have one post-match hug? please?”

you smiled, one arm still wrapped around kenyé as you reached out the other. “group hug?”

lamine muttered something under his breath but leaned in, arms wrapping around you both. you felt him press a kiss to your temple, then whisper low against your ear.

“just so you know… i’m gonna win you back.”

you laughed softly. “you better hurry. your competition’s got a strong grip.”

kenyé, still holding on, smirked like he’d already won.

don’t forget to leave a request!

[ryuucam]

FAMILY MATTERS

⋆｡𖦹°‧ despite being just a year younger than him, kuroo has always been overprotective: that’s what good childhood friends do, after all. so when you confide in him your crush on his best friend, bokuto, he’ll match you two up, on just one condition. he’ll be the one to fuck you first.

contains dark content, fauxcest (kuroo and reader have a sibling complex, no one’s related but the lines are very blurry), yan!kuroo, jock!bokuto, love triangles (no action between kuroo and bokuto), size kink, threesome, lots of pet names, spit, nii-chan x imouto, virgin!reader, dumbification, daddy (used once), spitroasting, blowjob, fingering, aftercare!, implied cuckolding/netorare (?), open ending, 4k + words.

notes me next OMG WHO SAID THAT!!!! ending sucks sorry guys </3 but im a sucker for kuroo nii

your parents split up before you were born, leaving you in a family friend’s care. a sweet, middle aged man, mr. yoshimura, who had no kids and no immediate family. he knew the lack of a parent - let alone two - is not something that’s easy on children, so he moved to tokyo, in a neighborhood full of kids and families, in hopes of raising you surrounded by peers and whatnot. despite this, 5 year old you didn’t know any better: all alone, in a place you don’t know, and too timid to become friends with any of the kids in the local playground. but, when little you was just about to sob and run back to your house, a boy, one year older at best, stopped you.

“why’re you alone?” you’re quiet. then he flashes you a smile (and even if he’s missing his front tooth, it’s sweet), so you gather your courage and speak up. “i just moved here.” the boy laughs. “i’ll be your friend then!”

and that’s what kuroo is - a friend. a great one, of course, but even since then he’s set his mind of taking care of you. you grew up like siblings: both pained at the loss of your mother, both around the same age, and luckily enough, your house was just in front of his. so it’s only natural that you guys are close - sure, kenma hangs out with you guys when he manages to leave the house - but the bond you have is special. it’s unbreakable. you had countless sleepovers, hangouts, even cuddles when you first got your period and were in too much pain to do anything. the line was always a bit blurry, but you never paid any mind to it. kuroo is like your brother, and you both joke about it sometimes - calling you imouto and him onii chan, you viewed your relationship as entirely platonic, familial at best.

on the other hand, kuroo became smitten with you from your first meeting, only discovering his feelings when you were thirteen and puberty hit: everything became a bit too awkward, and your regular sleepovers gradually stopped. at sixteen, kuroo had already two small relationships under his belt, all while chastising you when you spent a bit too much time with any guy friend - he’s not good for you, you deserve better… are all excuses kuroo came up with to prevent you from getting your heart broken. at nineteen, kuroo’s in the third year of high school, and is about to graduate. you’ve grown now: you’re taller, prettier, and your body is… different, to say the least. testuro feels awful about his thoughts, but he’d be lying if he didn’t say he woke up with countless hard ons for years on end, involuntarily upsetting his girlfriends who were just placeholders compared to you. but, kuroo keeps scolding you when you forget your lunch or your scarf: “niichan’s not gonna be around forever, kay? gotta learn to take care of yourself, hm?” and you just nod, letting him do his thing because he’s naturally flirty. right?

however, kuroo is demoted to second place when you meet him: 6’2, awfully muscular and sickeningly sweet, one too many “that score was for ya, pretty!”, and a bit dumb but with a big heart (and big bulge in his shorts) - bokuto kotaro. he doesn’t go to your school, unfortunately, but it’s close enough for him to be at your school’s gymnasium regularly for countless volleyball matches with kuroo’s team. he’s sweet, sure, a bit dense, but very nice nonetheless. when he sees you, he always runs up to you, big smile and all, asking about your day, sometimes sneaking in some flirting - “good day, right y/nnie? hehe, couldn’t wait to see ya today. ya look as pretty as i thought you’d be!”. you always blush at the implications, and gradually you fond yourself smiling a bit more and blushing a bit harder. you twirl your hair when he talks to you, bat your eyelashes, not too much, but enough to make bokuto’s head spin and cock leak.

kuroo notices - of course he does. he’s always looking at you, naturally worried about what you’re up to, who’re you talking to. his heart beats a little bit faster, pumping envy and jealousy right into his veins, only fueling the deeply rooted love he has for you. he’s fuming, and it translates into the field perfectly: his spikes are a bit too harsh, a bit less precise, ultimately ending up hitting his friends in the head (and he goes back to normal soon after, apologizing and saying he wasn’t as concentrated). today’s match ends in a tie, fortunately for you, who are rooting for both teams - your niichan’s and bokuto’s. as you busy yourself talking to kenma after the match (or, blabbering about how cool bokuto looked, how strong he is, how big his muscles are, all the while kenma does nothing but sigh), the team captains are both changing in the locker room.

and of course, they’re nineteen and immature, so locker room talk is inevitable - but today, there’s just the two of them, the rest of the teams had left early. bokuto’s the one who speaks up first, while he runs a towel over his drenched hair. “so, kuroo… y’r sis was all dolled up today, don’tcha think?” kuroo doesn’t correct his friend. “guess so. that’s just her school uniform, though. ya think that’s dolled up?” “c’mon, the skirt was lots shorter! she’s got great legs too.” bokuto giggles, the thought of your exposed legs going straight to the bulge in his shorts. kuroo doesn’t laugh: well, of course you looked stunning, but bokuto’s just so crude about it, he thinks. “yeah, she’s hot.” kuroo mutters, earning a whistle from bokuto. “damn, thought ya’d kill me for sayin’ that over your imouto. well, whatever, she’s an eye candy, and a real smart girl too. she’s definitely my type, bro!”. kuroo fakes a laugh. “yeah, maybe she’s into you too. maybe she likes himbos.” “huh? ya think?” kuroo sighs.

when they’re done, they find you all bundled up next to the gym entrance, dozing off. your knees are pushed up to your chest, and your legs rest around your legs. your lips are slowly parted and the soft wind is blowing your hair just right. kuroo’s in awe - you’ve always been pretty, to say the least, but some days he swears you were made for him to see, to worship. bokuto chuckles, as if hearing his best friend’s inner dialogue, and his gaze follows the curves and shadows of your body, finding itself stuck on your glossy lips. bokuto hesitates a second too long, and kuroo’s the first to reach out to you, kneeling next to where you’re sitting. his hand caresses your hair, gently, with the experience of someone who’s been taking care of you for 14 years now. his face hovers near yours, hand sneaking up to your shoulder. “princess, wake up. lemme take you home.”, he breathes out, voice soft and meant only for you to hear. you begin to stir, subconsciously moving your face dangerously close to his. “tetsu?” his breath hitches. “yeah, pretty? ya tired?” “mhm.” kuroo chuckles, and takes you into his arms, slowly petting you awake. your body is pressed snugly against his, smaller and softer, as if it was made exactly for him to hold. he’s quiet when he feels his cock straining against his pants, too preoccupied with lifting you up. once you’re standing up, you rub your eyes, trying to make the sleepiness go away - and bokuto feels like his heart’s melting. “y’re pretty cute, ain’tcha?” he smiles. you’re suddenly reminded of his presence, the interaction you just with nii- no, with kuroo, suddenly makes you feel even more embarrassed.

kuroo breaks the uncomfortable silence. “we’ve got to go home.” you want to protest, but maybe he’s right. he wants to take care of you. so you nod, and wave goodbye to bokuto, before walking over to your childhood friend. as you two walk to your house, you make small talk - the chemistry test you had today, which he tutored you for, his university plans, the match he’s had today. “can i tell you something?” you ask, soft smile on your face. “hm? yeah. what’s up, cutie?” you giggle at the nickname - it’s sweet, childish, and he’s always called you that. “i think ‘m getting a crush on bokuto.”

and unexpectedly, he laughs. “really? ya like kotaro? dunno if he’s good for you, princess.” you nod - the weird feeling you had about the tension between the two captains is now gone - and are quick to defend him. “huh? why not? he’s so tall ‘n he’s so sweet!” you’re now outside your front door. kuroo pats your head, messing up your hair, earning a huff of frustration from you. “whatever ya want, cutie.” and he leans closer to you. it’s not unusual: he’s always been touchy. his lips hover near yours, and you feel like time stops. then, he presses a peck near the corner of your mouth. your face’s beet red - he’s never kissed you like this before - and you stammer out some words. “h-huh? wh-what’s that for, tetsu?” he chuckles, before turning around, about to leave. “can’t let him take you away from me. had you first.”

you spend the night tossing and turning in your bed, unable to catch any sleep. you sigh, and grab your phone, scrolling through your texts and notifications - one of which catches your attention: a dm on instagram. you open it, and you’re met by bokuto’s profile. you blush, feet kicking under the covers, and hurry to reply.

bokuto.taro1: hey hey pretty girl, just wanted to say you looked very pretty today. let me take ya out, yeah? let me show ya how serious i am about you.

your legs squeeze together - even his texting is attractive.

y/nniee: hi!! thank uu :) id love that actually

bokuto.taro1: ofc you do cutie. gotta ask permission to your nii-chan first, tho.

your breath hitches. right, kuroo. if he gave you a kiss just because you mentioned liking bokuto, you don’t know what he’ll do if he finds out he wants to take you out. your train of thought is interrupted by another ping from your phone.

bokuto.taro1: but seriously, baby, you’re so pretty. been thinking about you for a while now.. your skirts are gonna kill me one day.

bokuto.taro1: it’s late. better go to sleep, hm? before your nii nii finds out you’ve been texting me all night.

the date with bokuto went well. a movie theater date, watching the new horror movie you’ve seen all over your social media. he held your hand, bought you popcorn, and left you at your doorstep at 11 pm sharp. when he was about to leave, you spoke up. “w-wait.” “hm? what is it?” he turns around, curious. you walk over to him, and you cup his cheek. you pull him closer, and closer, until you’re both so close you’re breathing the same air. “want me to kiss ya?” you nod. he gets impossibly closer to you, and presses his lips on your jawline. “mhm, ya sure? tetsu’s gonna kill me.” his lips keep moving, now nibbling on your ear. you whimper. “please, kotaro? jus’ one kiss?” he giggles against your ear lobe, and brings his face back to yours, softly locking you in a soft, chaste kiss. your lips are soft, glossy, untouched, but it’s not enough for either of you.

“can’t do anythin’ more, princess. you don’t know what i’d do to ya right now, all pretty and shit. but your nii chan wants to be careful, you got it? ‘m gonna take great care of you if you let us.”

“n-nii chan?” “yeah, baby.” bokuto presses his lower body against yours, painfully hard cock poking your tummy. you whimper: it’s even bigger than what you imagined. bokuto can only laugh - you’re so tiny compared to him. “you feel it? that’s how hard- fuck - you make me. every day. have me tuggin’ at my cock for hours, can’t go down if i’m thinking about you, baby girl. you want it?” you nod, eyes glossy and lips parted, desperate to feel his bulge closer. “then ya’ve got to let your nii nii watch when i fuck you, alright? he wants to see his imouto get taken care of.” your heart stops - what? everything about this makes your poor head spin: what does kuroo have to do with this? well, you know he’s overprotective, but never this much. and there’s a little part of you that’s screaming at the creepiness of this situation. your niichan? your… brother? he wants to fuck you? well, in his defense, you’re not actual siblings, but you’ve always been so close - your stomach does a flip at the realization that each time you’d called him niichan, he had probably gotten off on it. you’re brought back to reality when bokuto presses another peck on your forehead, sweet, infantilizing, further dumbing you down to a poor, helpless little girl. “baby - whaddaya think? hm? we’re gonna take care of ya.” and you’re so ashamed of yourself when you nod in agreement.

so here you are - at home, sprawled on your soft mattress, as you wait for kuroo to come over. when bokuto called him, you’re sure you’ve heard a breathy laugh - dark, sinister, but you’re not too sure: even if this is a bit creepy, kuroo’s a good guy, right? your niichan who won’t let anything bad happen to you. bokuto senses your worries, hushing and shushing you by straddling your body. his lips press against yours, but it’s messier, wetter, than last time: they move with experience on top of yours, and as soon as you part your mouth slightly, he stuffs it with his fat tongue, exploring your hole. the room’s filled with your “ah- nghn… oh! a-ah…”s, and bokuto’s “quiet, girlie, lemme kiss ya a bit more…” as he sucks on your tongue. the kiss feels like it’s out of a porn comic - the ones you found on twitter, the ones you spent endless nights reading while rubbing desperately your clit. your tongues dance together, messy and desperately dirty, but it has you going dumb in seconds.

then, you hear a whistle coming out of your door. kuroo’s standing there, arms crossed as he watches bokuto’s much bigger body engulf yours. he has a big grin on his face - probably because of the sweet sounds you’re letting out, or because you look so cute with a much bigger man kissing you stupid. “bo, c’mon, let y/nnie breathe. right, cutie? he kissed you stupid already?” he breathes, getting closer to your bed. you’re tucked into the mattress, on top of your pink, girly sheets, hiding your trembling body behind your plushies (most of which were a gift from kuroo). kuroo sits on your bed, hand resting on your thigh, while bokuto leans back to take in your disheveled look - messy hair, smudged makeup, swollen lips. “tetsu…” you whimper, seeking comfort in someone you known so well. “see, bo? told you she needs to be taken care of.” kuroo turns to bokuto, his cheshire grin never faltering. bokuto laughs, then points at you with his head, bringing his friend’s attention back to you. “oh, princess”, kuroo coos, “poor thing. want me to take care of you?” you nod. the ache in your now drenched panties is unbearable, making your head spin and eyes tear up: you need it to stop, to go away - your hypersensitivity is so cute. so endearing, innocent.

just like the sweet, sugary kisses kuroo presses on your cheeks as bokuto begins to massage your shoulders. “hey, cutie”, he brings your attention back to him. “lemme undress you, hm? don’t hafta do anythin’, sweet girl, i’ll take care of ya.” “hm, ngh… y-yes plea-ah-se!” and he gets to work. he leaves you in your underwear - a baby pink cotton set, with bows and white details. so cute. bokuto can’t enjoy the show as much as he’d like to, though, because kuroo’s hand flows to one of your breasts, cupping the soft flesh he’s dreamed of for ages. you stifle your moans: the feeling is so foreign and weird, but it’s so good. “angel,” tetsuro speaks against your ear, voice sending electricity throughout your body, “always dreamt about this. about your pretty body.” his thumb moves to your covered nipple, already hard and pressed snugly against the fabric of your bra. “n-nii chan…” kuroo feels his cock strain - oh, you pervert. you nasty, dirty girl, calling him big bro when he’s rubbing your tits sore. but, he can’t scare you away. he wants to hear you keep calling him that, to show bokuto your bond is stronger than any other you’ll ever have.

so kuroo’s quiet. “what is it, imouto?”

the name makes your neglected cunny twitch. but everything is feels so good, four hands touching and pawing at you, two hot men on your bed kissing you stupid. so you keep going - puffing up your lips. “wanna kiss. please.” your gaze flickers between bokuto and kuroo, but eventually settling on the latter. kotaro can wait, right? but oh, kissing your tetsu feels so wrong. unfortunately for you, he doesn’t hesitate, locking your lips together. it’s messy, raw, and so unbearably wrong, but it makes your pussy pulse a bit more, and it almost calms down the anxiety pooling into your stomach. it’s your tetsu, your niichan - yes, it’s wrong, but he knows you best, no? that’s why he’s here.

bokuto’s jealous - why is he here if you’re gonna kiss your brother all night? so he acts. he, not without a struggle, unhooks your bra, letting your pretty tits fall exposed. you whimper, but it goes unnoticed as bokuto latches his mouth on your other nipple, sucking harshly the warm flesh. your head spins, and you feel like fainting when kuroo mimics his friend. they lick, bite, mark your tits, leaving them all swollen and bruised. your mouth feels empty, and you tentatively reach over to the two men. “ca-ahn, can you… nghm, guys k-kiss me more? ‘m achin’ do-down there…” oh. they were both so intent on competing with each other, they stopped coddling their sweet girl. kuroo goes back to kissing you, pulling you into his lap as you face bokuto. the former’s cock is pressed against the swell of your ass, and the latter is kissing your body, going lower and lower until he presses a final, wet kiss on your panty clad pussy.

“bo, take em off. she soiled her panties anyway.” kuroo orders, voice slightly muffled because he just won’t stop kissing you. bokuto does just that - he pecks your cunny two more times, then rolls down your drenched underwear, leaving your pretty pussy bare. the two men feel their cocks pulsing: the sight of your cunt being almost too much for them to handle. it’s puffy, wet, but twitching and they can see your little clit peeking from your squishy folds. tetsuro squeezes your tits, and speaks up. “princess - y’want a cock in there? want us to fuck you?” how can he be so crude about this? but your pretty cunny is screaming at you to stuff her, to make her feel so full, so you whimper out an answer. “mh-mhm tetsu… pl-please…mhgn.. o-one of you…” bokuto smiles and pets your head, his much bigger hand messing up your hair. “lemme do it - please? lemme ruin your pretty cunny, baby, fuck, she looks so pretty. ‘m gonna stuff her nice ‘n well, princess, jus’ how you wanna.” kuroo let’s out a dry laugh. “what’s gotten you so worked up, bo? her pussy that pretty?” kuroo jolts you into his lap, positioning your jerking cunt right on top of his clothed, painfully hard cock, earning a loud moan from you. he softens when you whimper and moan - you’re too fucked out, too dumb already, so you need to be fucked by someone’s who’s careful, caring. “y/nnie.”

his voice is grounding, strict, something you’ve heard all your life. your nii-chan, your tetsuro. he is a comforting presence throughout all of this - so you nod. “please-ahse, nii-channgh… oh!” “please what, princess? want me to be the one to fuck your angelcunt first?” “mhm! please!” bokuto sighs - should’ve known the pretty girl he’s liked for a few months now had a brother complex. kuroo turns you around, so that you’re facing him. he undoes his zipper, letting his cock spring free from the tightness of his boxers. it’s thick, with a stupidly red, fat tip that’s leaking so much precum. your mouth waters at the sight - your nii chan’s dick rests above your cunny, and it looks so big. then, you see another pair of hands sneak from behind, squeezing your waist, your hips, and resting near your crotch. bokuto’s hard, muscular chest is pressed against your back, head resting on your shoulder, and his thumb inches closer and closer to your clit. “kuroo, y’re gonna stick your dick in her without rubbin’ her clit? just for a bit, i-i’ll do that.” kuroo’s taken aback - he was so focused on making you his, on marking you before anyone else, that he forgot about easing your nerves. you throw your head back as bokuto’s fingers slip inside your hole, thumb drawing hearts on your clit, while his other hand pinches and rubs your nipple. “ta-ah, taro! nghn… ah- uh - ‘m g-gonna…!” your cry out.

his attack on your cunt is rough, hypocritically so when he just chastised kuroo for not taking care of you. “ya can do it, puppy, sing more for me mkay? wanna hear ya scream for me while i cuddle yer cunt. she’s so fuckin’ tight, holy shit. she’s loud too, hear that, y/nnie?��the squelching noises of your sopping pussy are so embarrassing, and the way he talks about it is so dirty - but it makes your slimy walls flutter around his fingers even tighter. “da-hmph!” “what’s that, bunny? what’re ya trying to call me, huh?” “da-ah… daddy…”

oh, fuck. bokuto presses his thumb harder on your clit, making you scream as you cum for the first time that night. kuroo’s cock twitches as he seethes - so jealous of the sweet moment between you and his friend. he can’t let you think about bokuto, no, he needs to bring you back to him - so he nudges his tip against your hole, swatting away the hands of the other man, uncaring of your pleas and cries. his tip’s big - and kuroo knows that making you ride him will hurt. but all the better for him, he’s gonna shape your insides to fit his cock only.

“angel.” you sniffle. “angel, ‘m gonna put it in, kay? focus on me.” “nii-chan…” “yeah, fuck. just like that, pretty, keep callin’ me - wanna hear you. ‘m gonna teach you how to sit on cock, yeah?” you nod. kuroo kisses you as he slips it in, popping your cherry. it’s painful, yes, but it’s so big, you’re so full - you’re already going dumb on your nii chan’s cock. kuroo positions your limp body so that you’re fully impaled by his length, fully sitting on it. “you’ve gotta bounce on it, bunny, make your nii chan cum.” you cry, fat tears streaming down your cheeks, but you do that regardless - because you want your kuroo nii to feel good. when he cums, he does it in you, cock kissing your cervix stupid, letting his fluids stain your cunny. you cream around him soon after, crying out for your nii chan.

then, kuroo reluctantly slips out of you. there’s a small pause, then you’re stuffed again. only this time, it’s bokuto’s cock that’s seeking your tight heat. he slipped into you from behind, and he presses you down on the bed - face down, ass up. “didn’t wanna be mean, baby. jus’ needed your pussy. so, so bad - forgive me, yeah?” “‘s fi-fine, taro, feels so - fuck! so g-good!” your voice is muffled, face smothered in blankets and plushies. as bokuto slams his cock in and out of you, you’re hugging one of the teddy bears - this one specifically was a gift from kuroo for your finals day last year. it makes you all warm and fuzzy, subconsciously clenching your cunt even tighter around his friend’s cock. kuroo notices - and he thinks you’re so cute, all needy for him even when you have another dick in you.

so he takes his cock in his hand again, and turns your head around: his tip kisses your lips, prodding at your mouth. “y/nnie… wanna suck here for a bit? make you feel all better.” and you hazily do so. as bokuto plows into you, you take kuroo’s dick in your mouth, slowly working your way down his shaft. you kiss his tip, lick it, suck on it to get used to the taste; it’s comforting, grounding, making you don’t feel as anxious as you’d be while having your first time. kotaro caresses your head as you start bobbing it up and down tetsuro’s length. “good fuckin’ girl - so sweet for us. such an angel, right kuroo?” “mh? yeah. makes me wanna do this again- fuck, y/nnie, i’m going to cum… don’t have to swallow, kay? you’re doing so good for nii chan.” tears pool in your eyes, both from the reassurance and the knot in your stomach snapping - you cum around kotaro’s cock, just as kuroo’s member slips out of your mouth and his cum splatters on your giggling tits and lips. bokuto cums soon later, dick going flaccid inside of your cunt.

you collapse on the bed, exhausted.

you’re awoken by the feeling of soft fabric on your skin - someone’s cleaning up your body. you pry one eye open, and both boys are still here. before you can say anything, bokuto speaks. “you were so good for us, sweetheart. thank you for letting us fuck you, yeah?” you blush - suddenly hyper aware of the situation you were just in. you look over at kuroo, who’s the one cleaning up your used pussy. “tetsu?” “yeah, baby? he’s right - such an angel.”

once they’re done cleaning you up, you squirm back into your blankets, tired. kuroo’s hand caresses your head, and bokuto’s holding your hand. you feel so safe, taken care of. “can you guys sleep here tonight?”

bokuto knows deep down that he can’t compete with kuroo. he loves you, he really does, but there’s just something so fucked up about your bond - and he feels bad for you. how you’re so dependent on kuroo for everything. how you’re such a fragile, pathetic girl enabled by the one you trust the most. you’re beyond fixing - he noticed how you clenched when you called him your big bro, how you went for his cock with no hesitation, how you let him fuck you after you went on a date with another guy. maybe it’s not that bad. you’re not actually related, right? it’s just a pet name, maybe that’s what childhood friends do. sure, that must be it.

kuroo notices. of course he does. and he’s got everything where he wants it to be. you sleeping on his chest (well, your hand is holding kotaro’s, but it could he worse), and a tissue with your mixed fluids thrown in the bin right next to the bed as proof of your actions just a few hours ago. but, he can’t lie: he feels somewhat guilty, maybe subconsciously so, for taking advantage of you. he knows his friend’s awake, and you’re in such a deep sleep, you probably won’t stir even if they chat for a bit.

“bo?” “yeah?” “i’m not gonna lie to you. i really don’t want you guys to go out together.” “yeah, figured as much - bokuto laughs - but you’re still my best friend and i still like her. even if you’re a creep for calling her sis when you’re fucking her, man.” there’s no malice in the air - just plain boy rivalry. kuroo replies after a few seconds. “she still lost her virginity to her nii chan. guess i’m not the only weirdo here. but still, dude, ‘m not gonna let her go so easily.”

bokuto sighs - he knows you’ll always run back to your big bro. that doesn’t stop him from trying. when you’ll wake up, he’ll still try his best to score another date with you. and kuroo will be there to remind you that he’s the only good guy for you - until you’ll be under him again while you cry for your nii chan to fuck you harder. you’re not sane in the head, but kuroo doesn’t mind. he’s here to make you feel better.

©️ ryuucam 2025.

[devilish-cherry]

choso relationship headcanons ♡

ᨳ♡₊➳ choso x reader

ᨳ♡₊➳ crack, fluff

ᨳ♡₊➳ part two

ᨳ♡₊➳ choso nation, we rise. this was supposed to be a short list, but then i blacked out and wrote 20+ of these like my brain was fully infected with choso thoughts lmao i had way too much fun writing these and if even one person giggles, kicks their feet, or whispers ‘he’s so babygirl’ under their breath, then my mission is complete. mwah mwah enjoy the choso brainrot 🖤

₊⊹. choso is very affectionate, but he does not know how to initiate it. he wants to cuddle, but instead of asking, he just sits near you… closer… closer… until you finally sigh and pull him into your arms. mission accomplished.

₊⊹. choso lets you paint his nails. he does not react at all while you do it, but later, when he catches his reflection, he stares at them with pure admiration.

₊⊹. choso picks up on your habits without realizing it. if you always hum while making food, he will also start humming while making food. he is an imprint duck.

₊⊹. choso sees you shiver once and immediately wraps you in his scarf without hesitation, completely deadpan. you try to protest, but he just goes, "you are cold. i do not require it." end of discussion.

₊⊹. choso reacts to you putting your head in his lap for the first time by going completely still like a statue, unsure of what to do with his hands. eventually, after much contemplation, he awkwardly places one (1) hand on your head.

₊⊹. choso finds out about couples wearing matching clothes and gets very serious about it. suddenly, you have matching scarves, jackets, socks—he doesn’t even ask, he just starts handing you things to wear.

₊⊹. choso learns how to cook just so he can make your favorite meal for you. he is not good at it at first, but he is so determined.

₊⊹. choso and you watch a horror movie together, and despite his usually stoic demeanor, he jumps when there’s a sudden jumpscare. then immediately pretends that did not just happen.

₊⊹. choso wants to impress you, but he doesn't know how. one time, he tried to carry all your groceries in one trip to prove his strength, but he didn't realize how heavy they were and nearly fell down the stairs.

₊⊹. choso sees an old couple holding hands and just stares at them very seriously before turning to you and goes, "we will do that too."

₊⊹. choso sees a stuffed animal that looks like you (or reminds him of you in some way) and just. buys it. no hesitation. now it sits on his bed.

₊⊹. you fall asleep on choso’s shoulder, and he does not move for hours. his arm? numb. his back? sore. but does he care? absolutely not.

₊⊹. choso sees a mistletoe for the first time and gets very serious about standing under it with you. “it is tradition.”

₊⊹. choso and you share a blanket, and when you move even slightly, he adjusts it for you like some kind of doting grandma.

₊⊹. if you jokingly call choso “pretty boy” he will just stare into the distance, processing that for the next 3-5 business days.

₊⊹. choso doesn’t fully understand dating anniversaries, but if you tell him a date is important, he remembers. every year. without fail.

₊⊹. choso treats your interests like divine knowledge. if you mention liking a specific food, he will remember forever and bring it to you at random times.

₊⊹. choso doesn’t understand sarcasm or teasing just yet, so if you jokingly say “ugh, i hate you” after he does something cute, he will immediately go quiet like 🧍‍♂️ “...i will improve.”

₊⊹. choso learns about pet names and thinks they are deeply serious. one time, you call him “baby,” and he thinks about it for days. finally, he asks, all serious, “you called me baby. does that mean i am small and fragile to you? do i need to be handled with care?”

₊⊹. choso does not understand selfies, so when you try to take one with him, he just stares at the camera deadpan while you smile and pose next to him.

₊⊹. choso is a horrible liar. if he plans a surprise for you, you will know immediately because he looks guilty for no reason. you ask him what’s wrong, and he’s like “nothing. i definitely did not hide something for you in the kitchen.”

₊⊹. choso learns about social media. he does not understand it. one day, you find out he made an instagram solely to follow you. he has one post, and it’s just a blurry picture of you.

₊⊹. choso is overprotective in the strangest ways. he will not stop you from fighting your own battles, but if he sees you about to trip on the sidewalk, he will catch you like it’s an action movie.

₊⊹. choso is clueless about love, but when he loves, he loves completely and with his whole heart. if you need something, he is already on it. if you’re sad, he doesn’t always know what to say, but he will hold you like you are the most precious thing in the world.

[cosmicporos]

What Arcane characters would gift you for Christmas!

Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce

(Semi crack Drabble… sorry for going super long with Viktor’s and Jayce’s HCs. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH)

(Jayce is Hispanic in my hc :3)

ENJOY AND HAVE FUN LOVE YALL<3

Not proofread

JINX

Hear me out… the first thing she would plan to gift you are decorated safety googles.

As a matter of fact everything she gifts you is handmade!

She knows you love to spend time with her when she’s in her workshop and the extra spare of googles she had were pretty crappy…

“Ugh, these old things? Pfft, they look like they’ve been through a freakin’ explosion… oh wait, they probably have! We gotta get you a new pair soon toots!”

They’d be totally decked out! Lots of character as she calls it.

“Okay toots check it out! Maximum protection but most importantly! They got style!”

The googles themselves would be in her classic style, very colorful paint, cute little heart scribbles all around! And of course lots of glitter….

“"I mean, you've got to stay safe while causing mayhem, right? And hey, if we're blowing stuff up together, you'll definitely need these. Plus, I made them perfectly for you. No one else will have goggles like these... trust me!"

I totally see her adding little handmade jewelry from her gears and spare parts, would totally make you a belt or choker out of spare bullets.

Vi

She would totally panic on what to get you for Christmas. Like what if you suddenly hate the thing you’ve loved since the very beginning she’s known you???

Would end up both buying and making you something!

She’s make you something small but meaningful

“Okay Okay fine! You can open mine now. Just don’t laugh too hard Cupcake…”

You’d open the poorly wrapped gift to uncover a bright pink scarf she knitted you! The stitching is a mess.. there a hole’s through the project (no doubt a missed stitch) but in all honesty it so cute you feel like your heart might explode.

"Yeah, I know I'm not, uh, the best at this kind of thing," she mutters, scratching the back of her neck, "but I figured you could use something to keep warm... and, you know, 'cause it's winter. And... you're important to me."

Guys please tell her she did an amazing job PLEASE.

She would also totally buy you a pair of combat boots! Totally saved up for months in advance.

She loves the idea of being able to match and have a bit of her style on you!

Ekko

Just like Jinx (sobs) he’d also make something for you!

The first thing he’d give you would be a little sketch book full of drawings of you from random moments throughout your relationship he remembers oh so clearly.

"I've been working on it for a while... It's... it's just a bunch of drawings. I mean, not just anything. Stuff that made me think of you. Stuff we've done, or things I hope we do. I don't know, it just felt like the best way to show how I feel about... well, us."

Okay he would also totally make you matching jewelry (matching clock hand necklaces?)

You’d force him to take the hour hand since it’s shorter (heheheh little man)

Once you explain your reasoning as to why he should take the smaller one he sighs disappointedly…

"Okay, okay, I get it," he finally says, a little less playful now, his voice softening. "I guess if you want me to wear it, I can..."

Then, a grin creeps back onto his face as he adds, "But don't think I'm letting you off the hook with the minute hand. You're wearing that one for sure." He places the hour hand necklace around his neck, the smaller pendant resting there, and looks up at you with that mischievous gleam in his eye.

He pauses, holding up his necklace, "I'm still the one with the bigger job. You'll just have to keep up." A proud smug smirk now rests on his face.

Viktor

FUCK WHERE DO I BEGIN I LOVE THIS MAN

o k a y. He would just like Vi panic… not because he doesn’t know what to get you but because he totally is going Christmas shopping late… very very late.

As much as I would love to say he’d make some little invention to make your day easier and give it to you for Christmas I don’t see it happening.

Not because he wouldn’t do it but because he already does it all the time! A little example, you’re late for work often? A little robot that hits you with a plastic squishy hammer every morning at 7 am waking you up when he can’t!

He’d definitely want to make Christmas special, I see him buying you something and then doing something special for you too!

Christmas morning would be greeted with warm hugs and kisses along with an even warmer bowl of potato soup!

He wanted to make sure he perfected his mother’s Bramboračka recipe. It was a once a year meal him and his mother shared every Christmas day.

He’s not a good cook by any means… but this is the one dish he can make and oh boy can he make it.

"Don't expect perfection," he says with a small, self-conscious smile, as you catch him sneaking a taste of the soup. Viktor looks up, his gaze softening. "I hope you like it," he says, and despite his usual perfectionism, there's a quiet pride in his voice. You take a sip, and the rich flavors of mushrooms, potatoes, and herbs immediately comfort you, just like his mother's love must've comforted him all those years ago.

OKAY for the making gift he planned I see him commissioning something due to the fact a lot of his inventions lack aesthetics.

Specifically I see him commissioning a music box that functions as a a jewelry box as well! He would have loved to make it himself but he was worried he wouldn’t have gotten the look right.

"Do you like it?" he asks, his voice softer than usual, as if he's worried about the reception. "I had it made... I thought... it might remind you of us."

The detail was breathtaking-floral patterns etched into the surface, with tiny gears and delicate metalwork accenting the edges. The craftsmanship was stunning, and you couldn't help but run your fingers over the smooth finish.

you lifted the lid, and a gentle, lilting melody began to play. It was slow and sweet, a tune that felt timeless, and as you stared at the tiny figurines inside, your breath caught.

His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his cane, his gaze flicking between you and the music box. "I commissioned it," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I had the craftsman use a sketch I made. It's how I see us... in my mind. How I feel when I hold you." He paused, his expression softening. "I thought... I thought you deserved something that would remind you of that. Of... how much you mean to me."

Jayce

Oh hon… Jayce would spoil you rotten.

I’m talking presents are overflowing underneath the tree.

You thought you lost your favorite piece of clothing? WRONG! He commissioned for more to be made in different colors and textures for you.

All the fragrances in the world he knew you would enjoy.

Cozy adorable pajamas we would give you Christmas morning so you could cuddle up drinking hot chocolate.

Spends Christmas Eve spoiling you and cuddling and being so tooth rottenly sweet.

It’s Christmas Eve, the scene was almost overwhelming. The living room looked like a perfectly curated holiday catalog-twinkling lights, a roaring fireplace, and, of course, an absurd number of gifts. Jayce sat cross-legged beside the tree, an excited grin lighting up his face as he handed you the first box. He had merely grinned, sheepish yet unrepentant. "What can I say? I got carried away?.”

"Open this one first," he urged, nearly vibrating with excitement. Inside was a bottle of an exquisite fragrance, the glass etched with delicate, swirling designs. It smelled divine-rich, warm, and entirely you.

"I figured you'd like that," he said eyes carefully watching everyone expression you make. You swear if he had a tail it would be swishing uncontrollably right now.

Christmas Day would be you spending Christmas day at his mother’s house!

(Listen I’m hc them as hispanic because for one HIS MOMS NAME HIS XIMENA… and two because why not :3 )

You have a great relationship with his Mother, she absolutely adores you and sees you as her daughter.

There’s lots of yummy food she’s prepared… perhaps too much for just 3 people?

Nonetheless, a pot of pozole, tamales de puerco and de dulce! And of course she made jayce’s favorite choco flan!

God she urges to to eat until you nearly pop! You have to undo your belt by the end of the night…

"Come, sit!" his mom insisted, pulling out a chair for you. "Jayce told me you've never had my tamales. That's a crime! Here, start with this." She placed one on your plate, her eyes twinkling.

Jayce sat beside you, his grin widening as you took your first bite. "Good, right?" he asked, nudging you playfully.

You could only nod, savoring the perfectly seasoned masa and tender filling.

Later in the evening, when everyone was too full to move, Jayce leaned over and slipped his hand into yours. His eyes were soft, his voice low as he said, "I'm glad you're here. This—" he gestured to the lively scene around you, "—feels perfect with you."

[tan1shere]

Valentines

Sabrina Carpenter x female reader

A/n: first sabrina fic ! I hope you all like it 🤭

Summary: you wanted to put on a show for her for Valentines day.

Warnings: smut duhr, soft dom & mascish sabrina !! (But I can also see her being a teasing dom) use of mommy, and I think that's it.

Tags: none yet ! Comment to be on the sab one

Masterlist

I wanna watch you like a movie.

February 14th. The night of love. Tonight's love, was a little more intense than some would think of. Sure couples have sex. But you and Sabrina were going to make it intricate. When she suggested this little ordeal you were hesitant and a bit iffy. But you thought harder. It was only for the two of you to see. So why not.

You haven't seen eachother all day. You had work, and so did she. Doing music related things. You thankfully got home first. Wanting to shower, put something nice on for her. And by that time, she was home. Opening the door. "Babyyyy." Her bubbly voice called. You sprint down the stairs running into her arms. The one thing she thanked was that you weren't tall so she could easily do such things. Hugging you tight and picking your feet off the floor. Kissing you sweetly. "I missed youuu." She says. "I missed you, I'm excited for tonight" She smirks. "You are now huh?"

"I wasn't not, excited." She sets you down. "You were a bit unsure of it at first." You bite your lip. "Yeah well now I want you to film my naked body." You whisper. Her eyes move to your lips. "Let's go then." You grab her hand and lead her to your shared room. Getting her to sit on the bed. You placed the small camera in her hands. And she instantly clicks it on, wasting no time.

Flashing red light.

"Baby you're a star." She encourages, noticing your hesitation to the focus being on you as you slowly take off your robe. Leaving you in some pink and red lingerie. She looks at your body, taking it in. "Cute, it'll match what I'm going to fuck you with later." Your breath halts at her words. Needing her so bad, but you promised a show. So that's what she'd get. Your hands move up your body, feeling the need take over and completely forget the camera. Living in the moment. Your hand moves to one bra strap.

Moving it off your shoulder just slightly. She zooms the camera in, getting closer to your main parts that she's fixated on. You move it further down your arm. Eventually going to reach behind your back, undoing the buckle. It falls to the floor as your breasts relax out. Your nipples hard and pink. She bites her lip. "Don't be shy. Touch them for me." This time you do not, hesitate. Moving your hands to the plump mounds on your chest. Cupping it full, pinching those hard nipples. Feeling them go softer but instantly hardening again when you move to the band of your underwear.

Your finger dips, grabbing the small elastic and snapping it back. She was in a trance watching this in real life and through the screen. Just knowing she could rewatch whenever she likes. Your slow movements persist. Slowly pulling one side down. "More." She breathes. Making you bite your lip. Pulling it down further. "Like this?" Your voice was soft and sultry. She hums. "Yes.." Too deep in thought to process. "Need you." You moan. And she's nearly on the floor in a puddle. But she remains calm. "Take them off." You do as told letting them pool at your ankles. She now moans. "Cup it." You slowly do so, whimpering.

It needed to be her hand. "Sabbie please." You plea. And she just gave right in. Getting up and grabbing you. Pushing you on the bed. You lean back as she gets ontop of you. Keeping the cam incredibly steady, careful not to miss anything. She removes her pants, letting the pink dildo come into view. "Told you beautiful." You gawk at it, drooling. "In, need it in." You grab it, or try to. But she's speedy in grabbing your wrist. "Don't make me tie you." You pout. "But." Her brow raises. "Maybe you'd like that." She gets up grabbing a scarf, setting the camera down for a moment and tying your wrists above your head tight. "There, no touching."

You wriggle wanting to touch so so bad. She looks down at your pulsing, red, neglected pussy on display. "All mine to play with." Her finger swipes against the sticky skin. Bringing it up to her lips. She moves, causing the strap to budge near your entrance. "Fuck me all night." You say breathlessly as the tip is itching to go closer. Or maybe your itching for it to go closer. "I plan to." You gasp as you then feel it. So near. And without any warning at all its half way in. You moan, loud. You had been so dizzy on the feeling you didn't even see her picking up the camera again. Focusing it on your pussy for now. Letting it swallow the pink dildo nearly fully. You suck her in hard. "Mmm." She licks her lips, watching it get wet with how wet you were.

"I wanna hear you talking dirty. I wanna see it on your face." She says, moving the camera to your features as she thrusts deeper. Watching your nose scrunch and your mouth hang. "F-fuck mommy!" You then say as she bottoms out. Her eyes lock onto yours when you do, the fires something deep within her. Her thrusts pick up, now she was needy. Needy to hear that name again, to hear those sounds. Thank goodness it was all.on video huh?

I wanna watch you entertain.

As her pace picks up, it makes your eyes roll. You bite your lip again, making more noise than you had done previously. Her thrusts were powerful. Making your tits move tremendously. The camera moves down to that, watching them bounce. Then she moves it back down to your nearly wearing hole, capturing the wetness at a closer angle. "Look at that." She says softly, more so to herself. Highly impressed this was all her doing. "G-gunna, cu-" You moan yet again. Feeling it hit that yummy spot. "What's my name baby?" She needed to hear it again. Hear you scream it.

"M-mommy." You whimper. "Louder." Her hips snap. "Mommy!" You gasp, screech. And with one last thrust you're gushing all over the pretty strap, moaning exactly. Like a pornstar. She smirks down at you. "I'll be using that for future." You furrow your brows confused as you catch your breath. "Huh?"

"Wanna be a secret backing vocal in a song?" Your eyes go wide. "Oh that actually wasn't really a question baby."

"It's happening."

[tokkiwrites]

𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑾𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 | oldman!logan × f!reader

𝒯okkis holiday extravaganza. [results from this post]

tags ♰ smut, pwp, some fluff, established relationship, logan is in love, unspecified age gap, afab reader, unprotected p in v.

▪︎ you asked for sex by the fire with old man logan and i delivered !! It's pretty short and not my best piece, but i have been working on other requests as well, so this is my early holiday gift for you all ! not proofread, so if you see any mistakes, just close your eyes. okay ily!!!!

The wind carried the song of winter through the pines, its breath sharp and alive, threading between branches bowed low beneath the weight of snow. The world outside the cabin was a landscape muted to perfection, softened by frost and silence. Snowflakes brushed the glass panes like hesitant fingers, melting against the faint glow of firelight that escaped into the darkened woods.

Inside, Logan bent over the hearth, striking a match with ease. The sulfur flared briefly in the shadows before catching on the kindling. He coaxed the flame, his breath steady, the faint crackle of wood splitting in the heat breaking the stillness. Firelight gilded his features. weathered, rugged, but softened now by the quiet you two had.

As the flames grew, filling the room with flickering light and a spreading heat, Logan straightened, brushing ash from his hands. His gaze drifted toward the small signs of your presence scattered through the room: the scarf you had left draped over the armchair, its wool bright against the aged wood; your coat hanging next to his, the faintest imprint of your shape still lingering in its folds. By the sink, two mismatched mugs stood side by side, their rims chipped but perfect in their imperfection.

“Fire’s goin’, angelcakes,” he called, voice rough. “Should take the chill off soon enough.” In the kitchen, you paused, a knife poised over an orange. The blade caught the light as you sliced it into thin, translucent rounds, releasing a burst of citrus into the air. Cinnamon sticks and cloves bobbed lazily in the pot of wine warming on the stove, their aromas weaving a fragrant dance that curled into every corner of the cabin. You glanced toward the window, watching the snow swirl against the glass, your cheeks pink from the stove’s heat.

Logan’s boots creaked on the wooden floor, a familiar sound that drew your attention just as his arms encircled your waist. His embrace was warm and solid, the weight of his chin resting lightly on your shoulder as he pulled you against him. His voice rumbled low, a gentle vibration you felt more than heard. “You keep makin’ the place feel like home, plumcheeks. I’m gonna start thinkin’ I don’t deserve it.” You smiled, tilting your head to brush against his. “Don’t be ridiculous, realx” you murmured, your tone teasing but firm. “You earned every bit of this. Plus, you did lot's todayㅡ the firewood, the shoveling, all of it. I saw that pile you chopped this morning. You could keep us warm till spring.”

He chuckled, the sound rich, unhurried. “All in a day’s work, darlin’." He nodded toward the stove, his beard grazing your neck as he spoke. “Smells like you poured your heart into it.”

“And what if I did?” you asked, turning just enough to meet his eyes. They were unguarded, their depths reflecting the firelight. “Then I’m the luckiest bastard alive,” he said simply, voice grounding the moment. Your laugh was soft, the kind that warmed him more than the fire ever could. “If that’s the case, old man, why don’t you prove it by pouring us some?”

He grunted in playful protest but didn’t let you go right away. Instead, he lingered, pressing a kiss to your temple before moving to fetch the mugs. He filled them with care, the red liquid steaming upward, before gesturing you toward the fireplace.

The two of you settled onto the thick rug in front of the fire, its padded surface a welcome cushion against the floor’s cold. Logan pulled you close, his arm draped around your shoulders as you tucked yourself into his side. The fire crackled softly, its light painting shifting patterns on the cabin walls, while outside, the snow continued its silent descent.

Logan stared into the flames for a long moment, his expression pensive. Then, his voice came, quieter now, almost as if he were speaking to the fire rather than you. “You know, I spent most of my life thinkin’ this kind of thing wasn’t for me. The quiet, i mean. Someone like you, who’d put up with a man like me. Figured I’d just keep on movin’, never settlin’...never havin’ this.” His hand found yours where it rested on his chest, his thumb tracing slow circles over your knuckles. “But here I am. And it don’t feel like somethin’ I earned. Feels like a damn miracle.” You tilted your head to look at him, your gaze soft as you searched his face. “You earned it, Logan,” you said, your voice steady. “You earned every piece of this. And if it’s a miracle, wellㅡ then I’m glad to share it with you.”

His lips quirked into a faint smile, one that didn’t quite mask the emotion in his eyes. “I love you, plumcheeks,” he said, unshakable. “Don’t think I say it enough, but I do. With everything I got.” You leaned up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, your hand coming to rest against his cheek. “I know,” you whispered. “I love you. Always.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the crackling of the fire and the muffled whisper of snow against the window were the only things accompanying your ragged breathing. Logan tightened his hold on you, as if anchoring himself in the warmth of your presence. the world felt perfectly whole—fragile, fleeting, and utterly, beautifully yours. and you were beautiful, like this, right now. his.

without hesitating, Logan leans in, capturing your lips into a kiss. The kiss was slow, like he was savoring every second of it, every taste and feeling as if it might disappear the moment he let go. His hand cupped your cheek, rough and warm, grounding you even as the world seemed to tilt beneath you.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the tiny space between you. He looked at you, and in the firelight, his eyes held a quiet kind of intensity, the kind that spoke louder than any words could.

“You have no idea what you do to me, baby" he murmured, voice low and husky, a hint of wonder slipping through his usual confidence. Your lips parted, but no words came. What could you possibly say to that? Instead, you reached up, brushing a strand of his hair back, your fingers lingering against his temple. He leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut for the briefest moment. "Fuck me, Logan." you say before thinking too much. His breath hitched, just for a moment, before he let out a soft laugh that sounded almost disbelieving. “You’re not even going to make me work for it?”

“Maybe next time,” you teased, your fingers tracing a lazy path along his jaw. “Tonight, I just need you like this. right now." he laughs again. "whatever the princess wants..." Logan’s fingers trailed idly up and down your back, and you let your eyes drift shut, leaning closer into his touch. the smell of cinnamon clung to your hair.

He throws his lips at your neck, your soft whimpers filling the cabin. Logan wastes no time and pulls the blouse you were waiting over your head, the warmth of the fire kissing your exposed skin immediately. He was staring at you as if it was the first time he'd seen you like this. "My gorgeous girl..." With one hand he caresses the top of your head as his lips trail down to your collarbone. His other hand pulled down your pajama shorts along with your panties just enough so he could see your core. 

He could see it your eyes. You were impatient, the way you gasped at the smallest touch he lays upon your burning skin. Logan smiles down on you as he hurriedly discards the clothes he has on, and for a moment he stands like that. "Logan.." you whine, and he can only chuckle. "You're just so cute when you're desperate." he settles back down besides you, his strong arm wrapping aroun you, pulling you on top of his bare lap. You shudder once you feel his hardened shaft between your puffy lips, and you look up at him like a guilty kid that's made a mess. "Quit it." but you tilt your head. "What?"

"Quit starin' at me that way unless you want a baby in ya." that doesn't sound so bad though. You kiss him. Hungry. His calloused palms settle onto your hips and he groans when you start rolling, the friction making his swollen tip to drip more precum. "C'mon..." you plead. Was it the wine? The fire? Or was Logan utterly too perfect to ever let go? Maybe all three. "Up." he speaks softly, making you rise yourself a little, enough so he can grab his manhood and align it with your fluttering entrance.

Logan smiled as his cock was sliding into your pussy “big stretchㅡ look at you taking it,” he muttered, his right hand rubbing circles on your clit as he began to thrust. He stilled for a moment enjoying how perfect this moment was. Your chest heaving heavily as you peered at him with glazed eyes, the fire wrapped around you in a red and orange blanket. This was perfect. You were perfect.

He lets you adjust before rising his hips, making you bounce in response. he laughs somberly before plunging straight into you. your tongue luls out, tears on the brink of your eyes as you cand only squeal out pathetic moans and incoherent pleads. "shit.. squeezing me so good, baby."

and he goes at you, diving deeper and deeper with each hit of his hips, one palm holding your hip and one pressing down onto your tummy "like that?" you can't hear him, you barely make out his words; your eyes roll back and your spine stays arched as he plummets into your cunt. "I think yes." Logan snickers, feeling your walls squeeze around him as he takes one of your palms and places it right on top of your belly too. "feel." and, god, you feel. his cock reaches so far into you it bulges through your pelvis. you feel it and you're jelly all over again.

he takes both his palms and digs his nails into the plush of your hips, hit after hit sending you deeper into oblivionㅡ and you can only moan and cry as you feel your orgasm approaching. desperately, you clench around his cock. "wanna come, baby? tell me." he's stern and rough with his request. "y-yes, plea-se..." you don't know if you're crying because you feel too good or because of how desperately you need to come. your legs could barely hold you on top of him anymore, which didn't really matter since Logan fucked up into you just fine.

"come then, baby." you writhe as the knots in your core begin to untie, shaking on top of him. it hits you like a wave of warmth and frost all at once and it doesn't take long for him to reach his limit as well.

"need'a come, baby. where, tell me where baby?" You feel him so deep, you're drunk on him, vision blurry and mind fogged up, you can faintly feel the warmth of the fire behind you. you usually don't say this. "Inside, please.." You beg, and you don't wait more than two seconds for Logan to spill his warm seed into you. your knees finally give out, and you falter onto his chest. "Did so good, baby." he kisses the crown of your head, and you smile stupidly, rolling your hips against his. you weren't stopping until that fire gave out.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Animal Farm: Mondays

Male Yandere Harpies x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon, harpies, general yandere behavior, captive reader, spit roasting, cum in hair, aftercare, male harem, brief mention of being used as a cock sleeve by bull men.) Word Count: 500 (Here it is! I have had a solid wave of productivity lately answering old asks and now there is this, something I said I would do a long time ago. I said I would make a mini-fic/drabble with every group of monster men from my animal farm fic which can be found HERE.)

You sighed. It was early on Monday morning, the sun starting to stream into the window enough to disturb your sleep. You glared at your alarm clock and preemptively turned off the alarm that would go off at 10:00. It was 9:53. You wanted to cry. You had not fully recovered from Rory, Sev, and Bruc swapping you between them as a communal cock sleeve all day on Friday. You lamented your decision to be a monster man farmer with so many different species. You should have stuck to one or two. Oh well… no use crying over it now. At least you started the week off easy after your weekend break. The harpy men had pretty forgiving cocks. Ugh. Was that what it had come to? Judging how not awful your day was by the brutality of the cocks you were about to encounter? You scarfed down a quick breakfast then enjoyed your last few minutes before you were swarmed by the three harpies that called your farm home, Zan, Xilra, and Elry. They all looked similar, green and blue feathers in their hair, emerald green eyes to match, dark skin, with large angel-like wings sprouting from their backs and their legs ended in the way any bird of prey’s did. Sharp. Talons. When you stepped into the aviary your watch read exactly 10:30, you weren’t giving them a second more than you were forced to. It was like your one shred of resistance, even though it didn’t really matter very much. You also were too scared to be late after what happened the one time you were. You were sniffed out and fucked. Swiftly. As soon as you stepped into the large greenhouse-like domed building, it was like a miniature forest complete with all sorts of trees and plants, you were instantly pounced upon by the three monster men. They wasted not a single second in taking off your clothes and tossing them aside on the dirt while pinning you to the wall. “Hey come on! Those were just cleeeEEEEAAAAAANNNED. H-hey!” Two of them were biting, licking and nuzzling all over your neck while the third was using his mouth between your legs. “W-w-why do we always have to start the d-daaaay like thiiiiis??” “We love you little starling~” “Yes! And we must show you!” “We haven’t been inside you for a whole week love! It was torture~” “We must make up for the lost time sweet bird.” And that they certainly did. A week's worth of the pent up libidos of three tall harpy men unloaded on you and in you within hours. They spit roast you while you were on the ground before taking you in mid air. By the end of their breeding session with you you were exhausted. And this was supposed to be the easy day. At least they let you rest afterwards, washing the cum out of your hair and off your sore body before cuddling you and petting you while they sang sweet little bird songs and praised their darling little starling~

[thbbie]

༄ roommate! suguru x f!reader.

suguru prefers savoury flavours over sweet ones.

that's just his preference, no deeper meaning or symbolism behind it.

and he always eats so slow. chewing carefully, mindful of every flavour and ingredient that hits his tongue. sometimes it's frustrating to match his pace, you'll never catch him scarfing his food down, never sloppy.

he enjoys it — every bite of his every meal.

suguru's likes sharing a plate with you, to save on washing extra dishes he says. sitting side by side eating together from one dish, the same dish. it's more intimate than either of you would ever admit.

you get to see him up close in those, not that it's a rarity (early morning together in your bed with his face still softened smelt sleep will always be dear to you) still though those moments are precious. the slow movement of his mouth, the way his lips look as he chews, his jaw and the skin covering the it. his hair framing his face so prettily. he's just so pretty. so refined and elegant in all his actions.

sometimes you'll ask if he ever craves something sweet, golden eyes will flit up to catch your own, that teasing customer service smile with an edge at his lips as he replies, "nope" popping the p at the end sassily "i have you after all" accompanied by a charming wink and too smug smile.

so when you come home to suguru in the kitchen with a pretty apron wrapped around his waist and all he says to you is "welcome home, you're just in time"

"just in time for what?"

just in time for what. the last coherent words you managed. splayed out on the dining table, his hands digging into the flesh of your thighs keeping them apart as he eats. sloppy and messy and eager. it's nothing like what you're used to seeing with him. not refined or composed at all, still though, suguru is painfully pretty.

you could swear this is a different man, only it's not. the silk like feel of the long inky tresses you tug on so unmistakably suguru. that velvet like voice groaning against you, this is suguru too. a hungry, insatiable side of him.

his tongue licks from the bottom of your slit till your clit in a single broad swipe. once, twice, thrice, before refocusing on your clit. lapping at it desperately. suguru circles on the little nub with his tongue, massaging little shapes onto the sensitive nerves.

you're so close. he alternates between ssucking at your swollen clit and tongue fucking you good, the muscle in his mouth moving on you fast. so.. close .

calling out for him, rigging him closer with both fists full of dark hair, you're so close. the pleasure building quickly and just as you are to come undone he pulls away — leaving you hot and needy.

suguru simply walks off. wordlessly. still clad in that apron, the lowers half of his face still slicked in you.

he pulls out a bowl out of the fridge and grabs a spoon before making his way back to a frustrated, annoyed you. cute pout on you lips and your eyebrows pulled tight in a glare but suguru isn't fazed in the slightest. pleasant smile at his lips, only humming softly in response to your sudden attitude.

given the grace and slow of his movements of him returning, one would think he's never been desperate for a thing. in his life.

you might've believed it had it not been for what you've seen, if not for the tent in his pants you see through the apron, if not for the starved look in his eyes, if not for that morning in your now shared bed.

he's so cool about all this. that's the front he's putting on at least. sitting back in the chair right in front of your body. his hands on your knees spreading your legs once again.

you watch him dip the spoon into the fluffy white content of the bowl, wiping the soft cool texture on your hip, bringing his face down to lick it off.

"suguru, what are you doing? what is th-"

a spoonful of soft fluffy cream fills your mouth cutting you off. it's good, a perfect sweetness balanced with a flavour of lemon that cuts through it. he made it. whisked at the fresh cream by hand until it turned full and fluffy. the apron makes more sense now.

standing over you, his bangs fall out from behind his ear, "m' just returning the favour roomie"

he spreads more on you. your neck and your collarbones. the dip of your breasts and the gardens peak of your nipples. he chases it with his tongue each time. the light coolness of the whipped cream followed by the feeling of his warm wet tongue on your skin.

he makes his way down, lower and lower until he's back between your legs, face to face with your twitching glistening folds. still dripping, still needy. still untouched from when he got you right on the edge just to pull away.

"so wet"

he spreads some of the whipped cream onto the hood your clit, the coolness on your heated cunt making you flinch away, though you can't get far with how suguru is holding your hips against the wooden table.

he licks it off, the cream and your wetness in a single swipe of his tongue, moaning out at the flavour — thin dark brows pinched together and his eyes closed in ecstasy. suguru doesn't get enough credit for the drama he brings to the table you think.

he dives back in suckling at you like a man starved and suddenly you can't think. mirroring his expression, brows pinched together and eyes closed in ecstasy. pretty moans spill from your lips, nails clawing at the wood of the table needing something to grip.

without so much as pulling away, his eyes trace over the lines of your face, guiding your hands to his hair. he breaks for a moment to breathe, in a low breathless voice,'issuing the command "tug" and you do.

the bridge of his nose rubbing against your folds as his tongue works like magic on your entrance. clamping your thighs around his head to keep him there, you grind your hips up into his face and oh he thinks he's in heaven.

whatever they have to offer up there will surely pale in comparison otherwise. here. clamped between you mr thighs with your hands tugging at his inky hair and your moans filling his ears, suguru will die a happy man. the happiest.

he lets you take the reins, his hands holding you by the waist as you grind up into his face, licking and sucking away at your crying entrance.

your high comes at you suddenly, pulsing through your body as your release washes over you — rendering you a twitching mess.

"sugur- shit. hah- that's enough, we're even. we're even!"

"yea? have i retuned to you the favour in full?"

you nod eagerly, fully unsure if you could even handle any more of him 'returning the favour' he's always been so generous.

suguru looks so pensive sitting their, leaning back into the chair with his thick arms crossed over his chest as if debating an essential question of philosophy or politics with a tongue filled of your flavour and chin shiny, coated in the excess of your mess.

"i'm not so sure about that roomie. we've still got tons more left." referring to the bowl still nearly filled with whipped cream. "it'd be a shame to let it all go to waste, wouldn't it? after i worked so hard to make it just for you"

the favour in question

[vermillyons]

flustering katakuri

gender-neutral reader x katakuri, whole cake island arc spoilers, tooth-rotting fluff, gets angsty towards the end (bc it’s katakuri)

[part 2: katakuri confessing]

---

katakuri’s observation haki is keen enough to know when someone’s lying so it completely baffles him when, to his face, you call him cute.

no bullshit detected.

no one calls him cute (except mama when he was, like, 6). he’d love it and hate it since it’s at odds with his perfect image.

outwardly, he’s stone-faced as always but his ears are pink enough to match big mom’s dresses. he’s all too aware of it and, even if there's no one tall enough to see it, he bunches up his shoulders to move his scarf fluff to cover his ears more.

he’d just silently leave while everyone berates you for saying something so thoughtless and stupid. he can’t stop thinking about what you said and stresses out about what he did wrong to make you think that. he tries to convince himself he only hates it. nothing else.

at first, he thinks this might be some elaborate plot of yours to humiliate him and ruin the charlotte family. the thought enrages him enough to consider killing you. maybe what he saw with his haki was a fluke.

you’re bold, he’ll give you that. or just plain stupid.

for the sake of the charlotte family, katakuri decides he needs to figure out your intentions.

but he’s still confused as ever after encountering you several more times. the way you treat him is… odd. you show him due respect as big mom’s right-hand man yet you don’t put him on a pedestal like so many others do. in fact, you keep insisting that he’s cute to his face and seem to delight in teasing him.

he’s used to being admired and swooned over from a distance but he’s never been met head-on with flirting as shameless and sincere as yours. even with his future sight, he’s not prepared for the menace that is you because all his future sight does is preemptively fluster him before you actually do anything.

he still hasn’t recovered from when you told him that he has pretty eyes. you even gave him flowers the color of his eyes, saying that they made you think of him. he keeps them in his office and, when they start to wilt, asks mama to turn them into homies. you’re delighted by his flowery little secretaries.

ever since katakuri swore to no longer show any weakness, he’s also shunned romance. the cold, perfect persona he has carefully cultivated has no use for it. furthermore, he’s seen what marriage does to people and he had no interest in carrying that extra stress.

having had little to no romantic experience, he’s never been kissed on the lips. sometimes a part of him wished he had, just so he’d stop wondering what it’s like. now all those wonderings come back in full force when he looks at you. he likes to pretend for a moment that you’d actually accept his scars and fangs but he knows better. all your little comments and teasing would come to a stop.

you’d stop calling him cute. only disgusting. he didn’t realize how much he dreaded the idea of you calling him that.

he then realizes he might be a little bit in love with you.

[godricgryffinsnore]

A Universe In Your Smile ♡ : A James Potter Fan Fiction.

pairing : James Potter x female!reader

summary : A fluffy, poetic friends-to-lovers tale where James Potter and a hopelessly smitten reader stumble through longing, laughter, and chaos—too in love to admit it, until they finally do.

warnings : Excessive fluff, Mutual pining / yearning, Jealousy (mild), Idiots in love, Sirius and Remus suffering secondhand embarrassment, Soft romantic tension, Overuse of the word "darling" (sorry, not sorry), May cause uncontrollable smiling and heart-squeezing feelings. Please let me know if I missed any.

author's note : English is not my first language, so please forgive me for any grammatical errors or spelling errors. Re-blogging is completely fine with me, but please don't copy my work. I love you all. Enjoy <3.

word count : 0.8k

main master list <3

banners : @dollywons and @roseschoices

It was widely accepted at Hogwarts that if you found James Potter, you’d find her. And if you found her, James wasn’t far behind—carrying her books, stealing her quill, or whispering something ridiculous in her ear to make her smile when she didn’t want to.

They weren’t dating. Merlin, no. They just did things like feed each other chocolate frogs and wear matching socks and fall asleep on the Gryffindor common room couch, tangled like ivy vines grown too close over too many years.

No, definitely not dating. Just… being ridiculous.

── .✦

The thing was—James Potter had always looked at her like she’d hung the stars, even when they were eleven and she punched him in the arm for hexing her hair blue. And now, at seventeen, he still looked at her like she was the sky itself. A breathless kind of awe in his gaze when she tied her hair up, or laughed too hard at one of Sirius’s jokes, or fell asleep with her nose in a book beside the window seat in the common room.

The world faded a bit when she wasn’t around.

And professors—bless them—caught on quickly. “Potter, where’s your other half?” And James, wide-eyed and traitorous smile on his lips, would answer, “Oh, you mean her? She said she’d meet me here—wait, why do you think I know where she is?”

“Because you always do,” Professor McGonagall deadpanned. “You practically breathe in sync.”

── .✦

Sirius was done. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake, just snog already!” he groaned one night as James and the reader argued over who would get the last of the pumpkin pastries. “It’s not snogging if you’re feeding it to her like a lovesick kneazle,” Remus added, not even looking up from his book.

James blushed crimson. “I’m not a lovesick kneazle.” “You purred when she scratched behind your ear last week,” Sirius muttered. “That’s a reflex!” “She was laughing in your lap,” Remus pointed out. “While you pouted. Like a cat.”

── .✦

But James—brilliant, chaotic, brave-hearted James—was oblivious. Or perhaps too aware. Because sometimes their pinkies would brush beneath the table and he’d freeze like she’d set his skin on fire. Sometimes she’d look at him like he’d handed her the sun, and he’d have to look away before he did something stupid like tell her he loved her. Again.

He did, of course. Loved her. Every version of her. Her morning yawns. Her ink-stained fingers. Her star-gathered eyes. Her laugh when he tripped over his shoelaces. Her fierce way of defending the underdog. Her quiet strength. Her chaotic mind. She was poetry in freckles. A heartbeat he’d memorized.

── .✦

And she? She was wrecked for James Potter. It was humiliating, really. He’d touch her shoulder and she’d forget her own name. He’d grin, and she’d want to bottle it, drink it, wear it like perfume. He’d call her “love” or “darling” in that stupid, careless way and she’d have to resist the urge to scream into her pillow for an hour.

And when he wrapped a scarf around her neck because “It’s bloody freezing, you’re going to get sick again,” she melted. Her friends were no help.

“You two need therapy,” Lily said, not unkindly. “Or a closet and seven minutes.”

── .✦

And then… Then came Amos Diggory.

A charming Hufflepuff. Too smooth. Too clever. Too tall. Too good-looking. Too close.

He was leaning a little too far into her space near the library shelves. His laugh too loud. His hand brushing her wrist. And James—James Potter saw it from across the room.

Something primal clawed in his chest.

He stormed over, heart roaring, fists clenched, wearing jealousy like a second skin. “Hey, mate,” he said, too loudly, too cheerfully, slipping between them with the grace of a bullfrog. “Didn’t know my girl needed help finding Charms.”

Your. Girl.

She blinked, stunned. So did Amos, who looked from James to her with the wary expression of someone who’s realized they’ve stepped into a dragon’s lair.

“She’s not—” she started to say, cheeks flaming.

“Am I not?” she whispered back.

And James—bless him, stupid, sweet boy—froze. Because he’d said it. Finally. The quiet truth soaked in years of almosts and pinky brushes and shared sugar quills.

“You are,” he said softly now, voice low and reverent. “If you’ll let me be yours.”

She stared at him.

Then she laughed. And hit his chest. “You idiot. Of course you’re mine.”

── .✦

Their first kiss was on the Astronomy Tower. She kissed him first. He kissed her second, third, and fifth.

And suddenly, everything made sense.

The world tilted and shifted like it had been waiting for them to stop being stupid and finally admit that their hearts beat for the same ridiculous, poetic kind of love.

── .✦

The next morning, when James wasn’t in class, the professor didn’t even blink.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” She smiled.

“Probably stealing my quill again.” “Tell him to at least show up with you next time.” “Yes, Professor.”

(He did. With her hand in his. Pinkies entwined. Eyes soft. Stupidly in love.)

── .✦

And Sirius? “I’ll pay someone to jinx me into unconsciousness if I have to watch them cuddle again.” “I think it’s sweet,” Remus muttered. “You would.”

But they didn’t mind. Not really. Because James Potter had finally found his home—in her laugh, her smile, her love.

And she?

She’d been his all along.

[solnyshko-moyo]

when in rome

i didn't have anywhere else to post this so here

Prompt: Going to Italy to save your sister’s exboyfriend is not how you wanted to spend your weekend.

Pairing: Reader x Felix

WC: 2,818

“Bella, you and Alice run ahead to find Edward. I’ll ditch the car and catch up with you guys.” You urge your half sister as the car comes to a complete stop around all the tourists heading to the square. Bella doesn’t need to be told twice, leaping out of the car and taking off running.

Alice eyes you in the mirror suspiciously. “Oh please, like I want Bella going into a vampire den alone. I’ll catch up.” Alice fully turns around in her seat, shock written all over her face. “You guys are literally terrible at being inconspicuous. I figured it out before Bella even moved to Forks.” You roll your eyes and throw your hands up.

“If we are already inside by the time you catch up, stay in the square. They don’t need to know about you.” Alice already regrets bringing you, wishing you’d gotten back to the Swan house ten minutes later than you did. But that stupid mongrel begged you to go with them to watch over Bella and Bella stupidly agreed with him. You’re a wild card to her, never showing up in her visions so she never knows what’s actually going to happen when  you’re involved. Another reason why she wishes you didn’t come but Bella wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Easy enough. Can I have your wallet?” You ask and Alice throws her head back, letting out a laugh. “What? If I don’t make it in time I can get us Italian accessories. Think of the leather Alice.” Alice grins at you, handing over her wallet before climbing out of the car.

You jump over the seat into the driver's seat of the convertible. “I knew I liked you. I’m a size 0 if you find anything good.” Alice says knowing you won’t have time to catch up with them until later since noon is now only a few minutes away. It’s better this way anyways. She leaves you in the car surrounded by the sea of people to chase down your sister.

You finally manage to pull the convertible into an alleyway and make your way down the path with the other festival goers. You don’t see your sister or Alice at the entrance of the clock tower so you wander down a side street full of small shops and bistros. There’s a spare red cloak thrown over a railing and you look around for anyone it could belong to before snatching it up as you walk by it. Throwing it over your shoulders, you wander into a boutique full of different accessories. There’s a pretty scarf like the one Alice was wearing and you decide you need one too. It’s not like Carlilse can’t afford it so you don’t really feel bad. There’s some matching gloves on the table below the scarf rack and you decide that those would be lovely as well. Maybe coming to Italy wasn’t entirely bad. You grab a handbag that was in the same cream background as Alice’s scarf for her, thinking it would look nice with her outfit. You swipe Carlisle’s card, giddy the transaction went through successfully.

Your next stop was the bistro down the street for a snack until Alice calls you telling you they are done. The two elderly Italian women sitting next to you are so cute gossiping over their espresso and biscotti. The waiter brings you the bottle of wine you ordered  and tells you in his sexy accent that your bruschetta will be out shortly. Yeah, you think, maybe you do like Italy. Cute boys and you’re able to legally drink? Total score. You feel bad your sister is somewhere in the vampire police den but Alice wouldn’t have let her out of the car if things didn’t work out right? Everythings going to be fine, you tell yourself. And what are you supposed to do? Traipse into a vampire den saying you're Bella’s sister and get them in more trouble?

You pull your book from the tote bag you had barely enough time to grab before Bella was dragging you out the door back in Forks. All that’s in there is twenty bucks, your book, your sweater, Alice’s new purse and the granola bar the airline gave you. You sip your wine as you read your book, enjoying the midday sun Edward was going to expose himself with.

Everything was going great until you got the uneasy tingle on the back of your neck like you’re being watched. Your tab had been paid for a while and the bistro’s starting to get busier so you figure it’s just other patrons waiting for your table. Corking your half drank bottle, you wander down the street looking for a bench you could continue reading at, hoping there’s maybe a park nearby. As you walk down the street the uneasy feeling subsides and you wonder how long Bella and Alice are going to be.

As you’re passing a narrow alleyway a cold hand clamps over your mouth and everything blurs around you. When your vision finally clears you’re in the iron grip of a grey cloaked figure that’s impervious to your struggling. You kick behind you at his shins, stop on his foot, and thrash in his arms to no avail. You’re hoisted over his holder and everything blurs around you again. You realize you’re moving at vampire speed, probably through alleyways in the city. Screaming out you continue to wiggle and kick your legs as best as you can, pounding on his back with your free hand, the other clutching your tote for dear life.

“Let me go you mother fucker!” You yell still trying to harm him with your fists and feet. The vampire carrying you just grunts. 

You bite his hip angrily which does make him falter for a second. “Did you just bite me, human?” He asks incredulously, not believing your feralness.

“Let me go!” You struggle in his grasp but he keeps going, running through god knows what, all you know is it stinks wherever you are. You grip the half drunk bottle of wine in your hand once you enter a more lit area. You lift yourself up from your dangling position and swing across your body and over your shoulder as hard as you can to connect with the back of your kidnappers head. The bottle shatters and he stumbles a few steps not expecting more violence from you. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He yells at you, shocked at your behavior. You start stabbing the jagged end of the bottle into his back until it is so broken you can risk more without cutting yourself.

“Me? You’re fucking kidnapping me!” You scream back at him, resuming your thrashing. He finally halts in front of giant stone doors, pushing them open with one hand and not releasing you until you’re in the room and the doors shut behind him. 

“Santiago, what is the meaning of this?” A voice demands from behind you. You rip yourself out of his grasp stumbling a few steps away. 

“Y/N!” Bella exclaims and you whip around to where your sister, Alice and Edward are all standing gobsmacked. You rush over to stand with them, away from Santiago.

“Master that human is a terror! She bit me! She broke a wine bottle over my head! She tried stabbing me with the broken glass!” Santiago pointed at you, trying to explain himself.

“You fucking grabbed me walking down the street and didn’t say shit, you asshole!” You yell at him pointing an accusing finger back at him. The dark haired vampire lets out a startled laugh and your whirl around seeing Edward is trying to suppress a smile.

“Ah, dear. I’m sorry for Santiago’s behavior. We sent him to collect you so you could stand trial.” The vampire tries to explain coming to stand before you. He holds his hand out to yours, raising his eyebrows. You give him your hand and he looks utterly confused grasping it.

“Stand trial for what? I don’t claim him.” You point to Edward, bewildered this is even a problem involving you.

“For knowing of our existence you daft, insolent girl.” The blonde sitting on a throne behind the brunette snarls at you.

“We learned of you from Alice’s thoughts. Your knowledge of vampires.” The vampire let go of your hand breezing back towards the steps leading to the thrones.

“Because you guys do such a fantastic job at hiding it.” You roll your eyes and shake your head. These people are somehow even more conspicuous than the Cullens are.

“You didn’t say anything.” Bella mumbles hurt, eyes filled with betrayal.

“If Mr Emo’s ‘This is the skin of a killer, Bella’ didn’t give you the ick I doubt anything I said would’ve changed your mind.” You raise your eyebrows, knowing damn well your stubborn sister would’ve only pursued him harder.

Her jaw drops and eyes almost bug out of her skull. “How do you know about that?” Her face is red and Edward looks a little embarrassed. A few of the vampires across the room try to hide their laughter but fail. You glance over, catching the eyes of the taller one and his face falls.

You turn back to your sister and shrug, “You talk in your sleep sometimes.” You remember the night she mumbled that and how you almost peed yourself laughing.

“Enough.” The blond stands and you roll your eyes again. You wonder how old he is to be this miserable he’s taking it out on everyone else.

“Aro.” The other vampire sitting on a throne holds his hand out. The vampire, Aro, rushes over to him, grasping his hand. 

“How delightful! Congratulations Felix!” He beams over at the guards who were laughing, the big one still staring at you. “It looks like everyone gets to live today!” You wonder what the hell he means by that. “Young Y/N must stay but everyone else may leave.” What the double hell?

“Um, Bella can’t just go home without me? What is she supposed to tell our Dad? That she just left me in Italy? That’s not going to fly.” You feel yourself getting angry, who the hell are these people to tell you that you can’t leave.

“Ah, that is a valid point. Perhaps returning home for a short period of time so you can get your affairs in order would be beneficial to keeping unwanted eyes looking into your sudden disappearance. We will have Gianna draft up a fake internship invitation.” Aro claps his hands in delight, coming down to hold his hands out to grasp yours again. “Felix, Demetri, show our friends to a waiting area until they can depart when the sun goes down. It was so delightful meeting you both, we will be seeing you dears soon.”

The big vampire and the one standing next to him both moved towards the door, Edward glaring at the cocky smirk the big one sends his way. You wonder what you missed. You also kind of wish you still had that wine if you have to stay until the sun goes down.

“Miss Y/N, if you’d come with me for a few moments. I would like to speak with you privately.” The big one offers you his arm and you feel Alice’s tiny hand nudge you towards him. You take his arm glancing back at her but she gives you an encouraging smile as they continue walking in the opposite direction of you two. Bella looks like she wants to protest but Edward shakes his head at her.

“Are you Felix or Demetri?” You ask the muscular vampire as he leads you away.

He chuckles, “Felix but you may call me whatever you’d like, bambolina.” You wonder why he was being congratulated earlier and what it has to do with you and why you almost weren’t allowed to leave.

You enter a room after walking with him through a maze of halls. The stone walls are decorated with paintings of landscapes and scenes of ancient Rome. The pantheon and coliseum in their heydays, a gladiator fighting, the seven hills. They were all beautiful. There was a bookshelf full of books and a seating area, a dresser. You realize this must be his bedroom minus the unnecessary bed.

He leads you over to the seating area, opting to sit on it next to you when you settle on the couch. There’s a brief silence where you stare at each other waiting for the other to start speaking. You have nothing to say not knowing why you’re here but you know it’s because of him so you figure he can speak first.

Felix must catch on because he clears his throat, “How much do you know about vampires?” He asks hesitantly not sure where to start.

“Not much. I figured them out because their cover story sucks and they are kinda strange. Adopted siblings all with the same colored eyes, yeah right.” You scoff, shaking your head. “The old legends about vampires say you guys are ice cold, strong, fast. I figure since they are also ice cold that the rest would be true too. Alice said something about visions and Bella had to run ahead because he’d hear her coming. So I don’t really know why if Bella’s louder than she would be.” You shrug, you didn’t really care enough for clarifying questions. “Alice only found out I knew when we were in town.”

“So not much then. Yes, we have super strength and speed. We can hear, see, and smell better as well. The Cullens and a few other covens are vegetarians, meaning they drink animal blood instead of human blood which is why their eyes are gold instead of red.” Felix pauses and you nod along, your eyes a little unfocused as you think through his explanation. “Some vampires have additional gifts that vary from vampire to vampire. Alice has visions of the future, Edward can hear people’s thoughts, I’m stronger than the average vampire.”

“Oh, that’s what they meant then.” You nod again, understanding a little bit better.

Felix hesitates before continuing. “From your lack of knowledge I assume you don’t know of mates.” He pauses and lets you shake your head confirming you don’t know. “It’s like soulmates but for vampires.”

He watches your eyebrows raise as you slowly nod, putting the final pieces of the puzzle together. “And I take it that I’m yours?” He nods his head unsure of what to say. “Which is why that guy wasn’t going to let me leave.”

He snorts a laugh, “That guy is one of the coven leaders, Aro. And no, originally we were going to keep you here. It’s difficult to be apart from your mate. The urge to protect your mate is very strong and since you’re human it heightens that. Having you leave to somewhere I could not ensure your safety adds a level of anxiety but uprooting your entire life without notice I believe would create an animosity that I don’t wish for us to start with. If you hadn’t spoken up I would’ve even if it wasn’t what I wanted.” He explains in a seriousness that surprises you.

You give a small smile. “That’s very thoughtful of you.” 

He smiles back before responding, “We only get one mate. I wasn't going to screw it up in the first ten minutes.” He’s overjoyed you didn’t outright reject him. 

“Do you have a phone so we could talk when I’m in Forks?” You ask almost shyly, you’d never had to ask for someone’s number before. Forks is so small, everyone knows everyone.

“I don’t but I will acquire one so we can stay in touch.” Felix promises even more elated you want to get to know him more.

The two of you talk for a little bit longer before he leads you back through the maze of hallways to where your sister and the Cullens are waiting. Felix bows deeply and kisses the top of your hand, smiling and saying “We will talk soon, tesoro.” You smile and wave goodbye before entering the hallway and going to stand with your sister.

Bella almost squeezes the life out of you, hugging you so hard. You laugh, reassuring her you’re fine and unharmed. You wonder what’s all going to happen now, how you are going to tell Charlie you’re leaving. Originally after graduating this year, you were going to just go to college in Seattle to stay close to home but now you have to return here. Will you have to become a vampire? Felix never said explicitly but you figure he won’t just let you die of old age. So many unknowns for now but one thing you do know- you still wish you had that wine.

[voxslays]

CAN WE BUILD A SNOWMAN? °˖➴

⤷ Featuring >>> Lucifer x Reader; In which, Reader takes it upon themselves to pull Luci out of his depression and into the cool winter snow. °•*⁀➷

It was a snowy winter morning, the first one of the season to be exact. Lucifer loved snow. It was his favorite type of weather back in heaven. Unfortunately, pride was usually too hot to get even a few inches of snow, so it was crazy that on one of the rare snowy mornings you hadn’t seen Lucifer at all. You knew Luce was still getting over the disappearance of Lillith…but that was seven years ago, and you were tired of him refusing to leave his room. So with a heavy heart, you knock on Lucifer’s door. “Luce…?” You call out hesitantly. 

After a moment of silence, you hear Lucifer sigh heavily from the other side of the door. The lock clicks open, and he stands in the doorway, his tall frame nearly blocking out the light from the hallway. He's still in his pajamas, his blonde hair slightly messy and his eyes tired but alert. “Good morning.” He doesn't respond, simply crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the doorframe. His eyes, usually bright red, appear dull under the room's dim lighting. He's trying to give you the cold shoulder, but you know him far too well to fall for that.

“Aww c'mon…you know you want to smile.” His lips briefly twitch upward before he forces them into a frown again, looking over your shoulder at the snowflakes falling outside. "Is there a point to this early morning intrusion?" His voice is trying to maintain its usual smooth tone, but it comes out a bit more gruff than usual. “Have you looked outside? It’s snowing!” You squeal excitedly. His eyes light up despite his attempts to maintain his detached demeanor. Your smile has always been his weakness, the one thing that could make his cold heart flutter. "I can see that." He tries to sound nonchalant but fails miserably.

“C'mon please…?” You beg. He sighs heavily, pushing himself off the doorframe. His movements are slow and reluctant, but he eventually makes his way over to the window. "Fine. But only for a moment." He stands beside you, looking out at the snow-covered grounds of the Morningstar estate. “Yes!” You pump your fist in the air. “I’ll go get dressed.” You run off excitedly. Lucifer watches as you run off with a small smile playing at his lips. He quickly shuts the bedroom door and changes into warmer clothes, knowing full well he's been caught in your enthusiasm trap.

You dash into your room and quickly shut the door, throwing on a pair of jeans and a warm red winter coat, a color of which reminded you of Lucifer’s eyes. When you finish getting dressed into your proper winter attire and head into the foyer, he's already waiting for you. Idly standing by the front door, wearing a thick white coat and a matching crimson scarf. He looks up as you approach, his gaze lingering on the red of your coat for a moment before meeting your eyes. “You look great.” You say, admiring his elegance. He smirks, pulling on a pair of thick gloves. "You always say that." He opens the front door, revealing the winter wonderland outside. He steps out, turning to face you. "Are you ready to freeze?"

“Yes.” You chuckle. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as he leads you out into the snow-covered grounds. The cold air hits you immediately, causing your breath to mist in the chilly air. "Alright, let's make a snowman." He says, already starting to roll a large snowball. As Luci rolls the ever growing snowball on the ground, you look at the surrounding scenery. The bright red sky and pentagram is a strong contrast to the fluffy white snow that now coats the ground. The usually hellish black trees are now covered in a layer of white frost. Hell truly has frozen over. 

Lucifer notices your distracted expression and follows your gaze to the wintery landscape. "Quite the sight, isn't it?" He stops rolling the snowball, brushing some snow off his gloves. "A different kind of hell than we're used to." He smirks. “Very different.” You say, gathering a spare black top hat and scarf, placing it onto the snowman Luci had just created. Lucifer chuckles, picking up a carrot and sticking it into the snowman's mouth. "Looks like we have ourselves a dapper snowman." He steps back to admire their handiwork, his breath visible in the cold air. "You know, it's almost...peaceful out here."

You laugh sweetly. “That’s until you go into the city.” He laughs with you, shaking his head. "True." He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close to share his body heat. "But out here...it's just you and me." You smile warmly, your cheeks now red from the cold. “We should do this more often.” His expression softens, a smile gracing his lips. "I think I'd like that." He leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your cold-numbed lips. When he pulls back, his eyes are warm with affection. "Let's go inside and warm up, okay?" He says gently. “Okay.” You roll your eyes playfully, following him inside, into the warmth of the Morningstar Palace.

[reidmoony-toast]

We Hug Now. ౨ৎ

"The world ended when it happened to me"

Spencer Reid x gn!reader

Spencer finally returns from prison, but he isn't the man he used to be

content: no use of y/n, angst (some) comfort cw: sad themes, metaphors of violence an: This is out way later than I thought it would be so I'm very sorry 😭 Anyways this is for the gorgeous @thegloryofliterature ilysm and I hope you enjoy lovely <3

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ───────────── · ·

You paced the room anxiously, jittery hands pressed to your racing heart. The apartment hadn't changed one bit since Spencer had last been inside—you had the irrational fear that if you did, you would lose those little parts of him forever. The pile of books on his night stand stayed precarious as ever, a layer of dust covering his copy of War and Peace in its original Russian—one of his favourites.

His favourite mug sat ready on the counter, as if he would walk in at any moment and pour himself a cup. It would have too much sugar, and you’d tease him for it, before he’d lean across the cool stone and kiss you softly, sickly sweetness coating his lips.

A purple scarf hung on the coat rack by the door, faded with use. It was his favourite. Is his favourite. It was a gift from his mother almost half a decade ago, and he’d cherished it ever since. The stitching on one end had come apart, and you’d sewn it back together. The new thread wasn't the perfect colour match, but Spencer hadn’t minded one bit. He said it added character, and always reminded him of you each time he wore it. You couldn't help but notice the purple scarf adorning his outfits more after that.

You glanced at your phone again for the hundredth time, and found the same text from Penelope, sitting, opened and unresponded, on your screen.

He’s coming home. Today.

Not much else needed to be said. Those few words gave everything you needed to know—except when he would arrive. Thus, you had been wearing a patch into the rug beneath the coffee table with your excessive pacing ever since you received Pen’s text.

When would he be here? You were almost sick with worry. You peered at the text again, then abruptly threw your phone onto the plush couch. It was no use reading it once again. It wouldn't help.

These last few months had been absolute torture. Knowing Spencer was in such a horrible place, getting hurt, and there was nothing you could do about it? It had to be one of the worst feelings in the world. Like you were being stabbed repeatedly with a serrated knife, and every time it was pulled out so slowly, you could feel each and every agonising groove.

Worst of all, Spencer had left you off his visitor’s list. That little fact cut the deepest. Spencer Reid, the man you loved most in the world, the one you had bared your soul to for the past three years, actively didn't want to see you. It was like one big inside joke you had been left out of.

No matter how beyond relieved you were that he was finally out of that hell hole, the pit in your stomach that got increasingly worse each time you thought about that little fact didn't abate, even now.

What were you going to say to him? After all these months without so much as a phone call shared between the two of you. All the information you received came second-hand from his team, and you didn't even get to correspond by letter.

Why had he done it, why? You had lain awake at night contemplating that question for weeks on end.

You understood Spencer, more than you understood yourself, even, but what you couldn't understand was why Spencer felt like he couldn't show all of himself to you, even the most horrible parts. Especially those parts.

With almost divine timing, the door handle turned slowly, and your head whipped to the door. You froze in place, staring with wide eyes as the door clicks, opening cautiously. There was no need for a key, you had unlocked it hours ago, anticipating this very moment.

The door opened fully, and Spencer eased himself into the entryway. You couldn’t breathe. His form was hunched, hair falling limply into his eyes, and you could spy facial hair covering his jaw in a dark shadow.

His gaze shot up, and the door slipped from his grasp, banging loudly into its frame. You both jumped slightly at the noise, but your eyes never left each other. You sucked in a sharp breath. He looked empty. Like every joy and light that once filled him so profoundly was completely extinguished. Snuffed out.

His eyes were gaunt, dark circles of unrest swept under his lower lash. Those eyes—once doe-eyed and hopeful—were haunted. Exhausted. Utterly wrecked and full of anguish.

You both stood there, unblinking and unmoving for what felt like an eternity. The harsh silence is broken with harsher words. “Why, Spencer.”

It wasn’t a question, nor a statement. It resembled more that of a plea. For what, you didn’t know.

He said nothing.

“Why didn’t you let me see you? Why did you shut me out? Do you really think I’m that shallow?” A silent tear tracked it way down your cheek, pooling on your jaw before dropping onto the rug beneath your feet. You weren't even aware of crying in the first place. “Why.”

He just stared.

“Spencer.” Your voice cracked, and your limbs unlocked enough to take a small step forward. He just shook his head slowly, swallowing harshly as he regarded you with his broken eyes, and a lone tear traced its way down the contours of his face, perfectly mirroring your own. It caught in his five o'clock shadow and disappeared, leaving only a shining track of sorrow down his cheek.

Your lip trembled and your eyes softened at the scene before you, and you forgot any prior grievances—you forgot everything, even your name, as you focused your whole being on the broken and bruised man before you.

“Oh, my love, what did they do to you?” The words came out as an almost imperceptible whisper, cracked and crazed, like a window pane just before it shatters into a million lethal shards that bite into your hands and feet—stinging and deep.

It all happened so quickly after that. Spencer's face crumpled completely, a wracking sob crawling out through his throat. He stumbled forward at breakneck speed, straight towards you, like a compass pointing to its true north.

You didn’t remember how, but you were moving too—less fast, but no less determined, and you both ate up the distance, until there was no other option than to fall right into each other.

That was exactly what happened, and he barrelled into you so hard that all the air in your lungs was forced out against your will. Momentum sent you both crashing towards the kitchen, and Spencer cushioned your fall with one arm wrapped tightly around your middle, the other flying out to catch himself on the countertop before he crushed you with his large frame.

A shattering sound punctured through your bubble of consciousness, but you paid it no mind. Everything else in the world was inconsequential compared to the man sobbing violently into your neck, arms holding onto you for dear life.

Your own limbs came up to rest—one around his shoulders, the other threading through the dull curls at the base of his neck. You rubbed soothing circles on his back, whispering incoherent comforts into his ear. He continued to shudder, choking on his tears and tightening his grip to an almost crushing embrace.

Your heart ached for him, deep and painful. You hurt for everything he has suffered. You hurt for what he had to do to survive, for what was done to him. You hurt for the utter loneliness he must have felt with no comforts and no freedom, and all for a crime he didn't commit. You hurt for the relapse that was forced upon him, and for the reason he went to Mexico in the first place.

Spencer poured out every feeling of guilt and inadequacy, of shame and disgust. Every moment he felt scared, and every moment he felt anger so powerful, it made him afraid of his own mind.

But mostly, it was the feeling of helplessness that held him captive. You knew that feeling well, had become close acquaintances with it in the past months—though nothing to the extent of his, you were sure.

He clung to you like you were a lighthouse in a storm, and you let him. Told him to let it all out—every haunting and twisted minute of the past three months.

The longer you stood there, the more you understood why he pushed you away, even as it ripped the stitches open on that wound once again. He never let others see his pain, and to be so vulnerable and so raw, stripped of your self-identity like that, was a scary thing for him to allow others to see.

While it hurt, you knew Spencer, knew his vice. Knew that he thought he was doing the best by the both of you, not stopping to consider that maybe you wanted to be there for the bad. Wanted, because you wanted inside his soul, because you wanted—needed—to be his shining light home; for your souls were intertwined, and he would have to try a lot harder to push you away.

You stayed steady now, for if you broke, you wouldn't be the rock he needed. No, you had to stand strong. For Spencer.

Your neck was sticky with hot tears, and you sent a look at the floor to your left—by pure chance—and a flash of porcelain shine caught your eyes. Then, in stillness, you realised what it was.

Spencer’s mug. The one you laid out every morning. It rested there on the kitchen tile, broken. Smashed. In Spencer's flail to catch the both of you, he must have knocked it to the ground.

You stared. And stared.

And finally, after trying so hard to be the strong one, the calm one, the understanding and soothing one, the damn burst, and a tidal wave washed away the foundations of your resolve.

You cried. Loudly. Painfully. The sobs wracked your whole body, down to your cold feet on the freezing tile. You could feel those shards of glass now.

The pain you felt, so visceral and puncturing, was no longer a metaphor—the glass cut into your feet, legs, arms, stomach and chest, as your eviscerated body sluggishly poured hot and sticky blood onto the kitchen floor in perfect tandem with your cracking heart.

You registered Spencer whispering something over and over again into the smooth skin of your neck, now wet with tears. Your next sob was choked as you realised the words. “I’m sorry.” Over and over, again and again.

You listened to those two soul-crushing words as you stared, unblinking, at the mug on the floor. It was broken beyond repair, and it could never be fixed, not fully. No matter how intricately you glued it back into one piece, it would never be the same ever again.

The cracks would still be there, even if they weren't visible. It would never gain back its strength again, and it would easily chip, easily shatter once more.

As you held the man you love in your arms, letting him sag against you, use you as a lifeline, you realised the unfathomable truth. No matter what, nothing would ever be the same again.

· · ───────────── ·𖥸· ───────────── · ·

Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated x

Tags: @reidology13 @navs-bhat <3 - Comment to be added!

Masterlist ౨ৎ

[naebaetwsog]

「・RIIZE as your boyfriend°×

genre.Fluff

warning.Ot7(ig that’s a warning??)

pairing.Bf!Rii7e x fem!reader

note.If I say that I was crying writing this, and I was also crying while choosing the cover photo, I really miss our 03liners. Anyways, this is my fist riize fic, reminder that you can request other groups too!!

Shotaro

Your #1 fan, personal hype man, and ultimate softie. You are his literal baby—no exceptions. He spoils you endlessly, never showing up empty-handed on dates, always surprising you with little gifts. If you’re apart, he demands FaceTime calls at night, whining, “I can’t sleep without your presence…” Your personal space? Doesn’t exist. His clothes are now yours, and he loves seeing you in them. Dancing everywhere, even in the grocery store? Mandatory. You don’t know how? He doesn’t care—he’s twirling you around anyway. He showers you with compliments 24/7, making sure you never forget how much he loves you.

Eunseok

Cool and composed? Only with others. With you, he’s a total softie. But make no mistake—he’s crazy overprotective. If someone so much as glances at you the wrong way, he’s already cursing their ancestors. He spoils you without hesitation; you don’t even need to ask—just look at something, and it’s yours. You are not safe from his dad jokes, though. You could be in the middle of cuddling, and he’ll drop the corniest joke, leaving you groaning while he laughs at his own humor. He loves making you mad just because he thinks you’re adorable when you pout.

Sungchan

Simp? Understatement. You say sit, he sits. You say jump, he jumps. Honestly, he’s barking for you. Just thinking about you puts him in heart-eyes mode. Everyone knows how much he loves you—he makes sure of it. Someone stares at you for too long? He’s ready to throw hands. His personal space? Doesn’t exist when it comes to you. He even holds your hand when you go to the bathroom “What if you get kidnapped?!”. One week into the relationship, he’s already talking about marriage. But don’t be fooled—he will tease you, especially about your height, and be the most annoying boyfriend ever in the best way possible.

Wonbin

Mysterious? Only to strangers. With you? He’s a full-on clingy baby. If he’s not glued to you in some way, he’s simply not functioning. He spoils you to no end, handing you his credit card before you even ask. His clothes are automatically yours, and your mood? His mood. If you’re upset, he feels it. He’s confident, but still gets jealous—even though he’s literally one of the most handsome men alive. He tries to play it cool, but the moment someone gets a little too friendly, he’s suddenly extra affectionate, pulling you closer and reminding everyone that you’re his.

Seunghan

Simp Pt. 3. He’s obsessed with you in the most wholesome way. Personal space? What’s that? You’re never alone—if you turn around, he’s right there. Matching outfits every day, not negotiable. He only has eyes for you; no one else even exists in his world. He expresses his love in a million small ways, from adjusting your scarf in the cold to remembering your favorite snacks. If you’re feeling down, he drops everything to comfort you, whispering how much he loves you and will always be by your side.

Sohee

He tries to act all cool and manly, but let’s be real—he’s a total softie when it comes to you. He’s not big on physical affection, but he needs some part of him touching you at all times—whether it’s a pinky linked with yours or his foot brushing against yours under the table. Instead of physical touch, he expresses love through acts of service and words of affirmation. Good morning and good night texts are a daily routine. He surprises even himself by being the first one to say, “I love you.”

Anton

The biggest simp of them all. His brain is permanently on “reader brainrot” mode. If he’s not thinking about you, he’s making memes about you. You have so many inside jokes that one look from him can make you both burst out laughing. He always gives you his oversized hoodies because you look ridiculously tiny in them, and he lives for it. Spoils you way too much, especially if you’re into collecting cute things (“One more Sunny Angel won’t hurt…”). The way he adores you is unreal—he just wants to make you the happiest person alive.

[shortnspidey]

QUIDDITCH COLLISIONS

draco malfoy x fem!slytherin!reader || WC: 4.9K

SUMMARY: Unlike your famous boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, your personality was a refreshing change from the typical Slytherin arrogance. You often challenge Draco's aggressive behavior, amusing some and annoying others. But when Draco gets seriously injured in a brutal Quidditch match, a chilling protectiveness surfaced. Anyone who dared to cross him or speak ill of him faced the real reason you were sorted into Slytherin. The ambition and ruthlessness of the house now burned within you, fueled by the fear of losing him.

WARNINGS: established relationship, soft!draco, steamy kissing, cursing, typical Harry Potter themes, Cedric Diggory is alive and well, quidditch injuries, hurt-comfort themes

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day!! My first Draco fic is dedicated to all my fellow single people spending Valentine's day alone!! I'm such a sucker for soft Draco! Hope you all enjoy! Beautiful dividers by @bernardsbendystraws <3

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The icy wind bit at your face as you pulled your scarf tighter around your neck, the frost clinging to your eyelashes. Yet, you couldn't help but grin as you marched into the Great Hall. You knew Daphne was probably already teasing you about it, but you didn't care. You were wearing Draco's Quidditch jumper, and it smelled faintly of wood, citrus, and his signature cologne that you loved dearly.

As you neared the Slytherin table, a sea of faces washed over you – stony expressions, bored glances, and the occasional whispered conversation. Then, you spotted him. Draco Malfoy, a beacon of platinum hair and shockingly vibrant emerald green jumper, stood out amongst the crowd. He seemed to be engaged in a heated discussion with Theo and Blaise, his brow furrowed in concentration, a grim set to his jaw.

The usual arrogance seemed to be replaced by a genuine intensity, making him appear even more captivating than usual. Enzo spotted you first. Letting out a dramatic sigh of relief that could be heard across the Great Hall, he pushed himself away from the table and speed-walked towards you. His usually carefree demeanor was replaced by a look of genuine distress.

Before you could even greet him with a smile, he had reached you, his hand firmly grasping your wrist. "Come on," He muttered, practically dragging you towards the end of the table. “Well good morning to you too, Enzo.” You retorted sarcastically matching his pace. You saw him look anxiously between you and your boyfriend, who, completely oblivious to your arrival, continued his animated conversation with Theo and Blaise, his voice rising in frustration.

"Please, for the love of Merlin, make him stop." He huffed motioning over to his cousin. "What's going on?" You questioned, brows furrowing in confusion. Enzo simply shrugged, a helpless expression gracing his features. "Ask him yourself." He muttered, sinking back into his chair as if to avoid the impending storm. "Draco," You called out softly, your voice a gentle murmur in the otherwise boisterous Great Hall. He didn't even flinch.

"Love," You tried again, adding a saccharine sweetness to your voice that would have made even Honeydukes' most potent sweets blush. Finally, as if snapping out of a trance, his grey eyes met yours. They were stormy, a mixture of anger, frustration, and something else… something you couldn't quite place. Then, as if a switch had been flipped, the storm subsided. His entire tense demeanor immediately softened, the lines of anger disappearing from his face.

"Darling," He breathed out, his voice a low rumble, reaching for your manicured hand and pulling you closer, as if to convince himself you were real. He held your hand tightly, his fingers intertwining with yours, the warmth of his skin radiating through you. "Thank Salazar she's here." You heard Theo exasperate, his expression mirroring Enzo's. You ignored their commentary, solely focused on the boy in front of you. Now that you were closer, you could see the bags under his eyes, a stark contrast to his usual flawless complexion.

He looked exhausted, and that made your heart ache. "Did you get any sleep last night?" You asked him softly, reaching out to caress his cheekbone, your fingers tracing the lines of fatigue etched on his face. As if you were the only two people in the Great Hall, he nuzzled his face into your palm, a soft sigh escaping his lips. His eyes, usually so cold and calculating, now held a warmth that surprised you. They traced over your figure, lingering on his quidditch number and last name embroidered on your chest.

"You look absolutely breathtaking in my jumper," He purred, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. The compliment would have normally made your knees buckle, but you knew him well enough to know it was a tactic to get you distracted, a playful attempt to avoid confronting the emotions that were clearly swirling beneath the surface. "Draco," You chastised, squeezing his hand, a silent plea to get him to express what was on his mind. "Is this about the match later today?" You questioned, taking a wild guess as to why his attitude was all over the place.

As if on cue, his facial expressions said everything his words didn't convey. The grimace making a reappearance, twisting his features into a mask of pure fury. His eyes, now held a dangerous glint. "Fucking Cavendish," He spat venomously, the word tasting like bile in his mouth. Now it all made sense. Bryce Cavendish, Hufflepuff seeker, and as of now Draco's sworn enemy. Which said a lot, considering Harry Potter had always been at the very top of his list.

"He was up all night." Blaise mumbled, his eyes darting nervously towards Draco. "Reviewing plays for hours," Theo added with a scoff, his voice barely a whisper. If looks could kill, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott would both be six-feet under with the way Draco was looking at them. His gaze, icy and lethal, sent a shiver down their spines. "Draco," You coaxed, taking a seat next to him, hoping to somehow diffuse his anger. You placed a gentle hand on his arm, his muscles tensing beneath your touch.

"We've talked about this. You can't let him get to you." He sighed, running a hand down his face in frustration, the lines of anger deepening on his forehead. "I know, darling," He admitted, his voice rough with suppressed fury. "But the bastard knows how to get inside my bloody head." Looking up at the three boys in front of you, judging by their expressions you knew Draco was already way over his head about this match in particular. "You're the best seeker in all of Hogwarts," You praised, smoothing out the crease in his perfectly pressed tie.

"He's just jealous," You added with a reassuring smile, punctuating your words with a sweet kiss to his cheek. He closed his eyes momentarily, leaning into your touch, the tension visibly draining from his shoulders. A contented sigh escaped his lips, a low rumble that vibrated against your ear. "Thank you, darling," He muttered so softly under his breath, if you hadn't been close you were sure you wouldn't have heard him. "I'm sure I'll get over it before the match." He reassured, his gaze, though still a little guarded, held a warmth that melted away the last remainder of his earlier anger.

Yet before you could even continue to ask him what was actually bothering him, he threw an arm over your shoulders and pulled you closer, his hand resting possessively on your waist. Luckily for him, Pansy arrived at the table, her voice a shrill counterpoint to the hushed murmurs of the Great Hall. "Y/N, you will not believe who I just saw…" She began, her voice a whirlwind of gossip and exaggerated pronouncements. Her arrival pulled your attention away from your boyfriend and the lingering tension that still clung to him, replaced by a forced smile and a polite inquiry into Pansy's latest conquest.

Draco, in fact, did not get over it. All throughout your shared Potions class, you'd catch him zoning off, his gaze flitting around the room. He would absentmindedly tap his foot against the stone floor, a nervous habit you hadn't noticed before. Unfortunately for him, you weren't the only one who seemed to notice his off-putting behavior. Snape, his eyes narrowed to slits like a venomous snake, watched Draco with disdain. You could only guess what was going through his mind as he calculated his best students every move.

Thankfully, you were able to turn Draco's attention back to the task at hand before Snape could intervene. You gently nudged his elbow with yours, a silent message that you were there for him. He looked up, startled, his eyes meeting yours. A flicker of gratitude passed, before he quickly returned his attention to the bubbling potion in his cauldron, trying to focus on the task at hand. You knew the last thing Draco needed was to get reprimanded before his big match. He was already battling enough inner demons without Snape adding to his inner turmoil.

After class was over, you barely had time to blink before Draco was jumping out of his seat, pressing a kiss to your cheek before rushing out of the classroom, presumably towards the Quidditch pitch. As you gathered the rest of your belongings, your eyes connected with Hermione Granger's who seemed to share your expression of concern. After all, Draco's personality was known to be strong and passionate in a classroom setting, but his competitive spirit, when ignited, could be truly terrifying.

You gave her a reassuring smile, trying to project an air of confidence you didn't entirely feel, before making way out of the classroom yourself. Holding your books tightly to your chest, you made a beeline for Draco's dormitory, the stone walls of the castle looming large around you. You needed to see him before the match, to make sure he was alright. Reaching his room, you quickly dropped off your books and grabbed yours his favorite scarf, wrapping it securely around your neck, knowing it would be bitterly cold on those stands.

As you walked towards the Quidditch pitch, the vibrant green of the field a stark contrast against the grey stone of the castle, the nauseating pit of anxiety grew in your stomach. It was like a physical manifestation of your fear, twisting and churning within you. Although Draco had played against Hufflepuff before, these matches had always been a mere formality. But ever since Bryce Cavendish had joined the Hufflepuff team, something had shifted. Draco, usually so confident and arrogant, had become strangely subdued, preoccupied with thoughts that seemed to weigh heavily on his mind.

Anytime you'd even try to bring up the subject, Draco would resort to his usual tactics to shift the conversation away from what was truly bothering him. Thankfully, Enzo was able to sneak you past Madame Hooch, her attention momentarily diverted by a particularly boisterous group of Hufflepuffs. You knew he needed a little positive reassurance before the match, if not you were certain the boys would all get their heads chewed off by the time the first bludger flew.

As you neared the entryway of the boy's changing rooms, you spotted Enzo, Blaise, and Theo leaning against the wall, their faces a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. "How's he doing?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper, your eyes searching the room for any sign of Draco. "Hasn't lost his quip and sarcasm that's for sure," Blaise replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "He's been giving poor Theo a hard time about his choice of socks." You let out a small laugh, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. "That’s good," You whispered, a genuine smile finally gracing your lips.

Theo, ever the observant one, noticed the shift in your demeanor. "He'll be fine, Dolcezza. He's a Malfoy. He thrives on competition." You nodded, though the lingering anxiety still clung to you. "I know," You murmured, "But… I just worry." You admitted. "We all do," He admitted, his usual nonchalance replaced by a rare display of vulnerability. "He's our friend, after all." Just as you were about to respond, the doors to the changing rooms opened and out walked the rest of the Slytherin quidditch boys, all except Draco.

"He kicked everyone out," Adrian Pucey explained, his voice subdued, "Said he needed a moment alone." That was your cue. With a surge of adrenaline, you pushed past the remaining boys, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. With a final deep breath, you pushed open the door to the changing room, your heart pounding in your chest. If there was one thing that never failed to make you swoon, it was Draco in his Quidditch gear. The emerald green of the Slytherin robes seemed to deepen the grey hue of his eyes, making them sparkle with an almost predatory like intensity.

His usually pale skin was flushed with a healthy color, and his normally perfectly styled hair was slightly disheveled, giving him a rugged, almost dangerous charm. He looked every inch the confident, arrogant Slytherin, but beneath the bravado, you knew there was a vulnerability, a fierce protectiveness that only you were privileged to witness. "Shouldn't you be outside along with everyone else?" You questioned watching as his body tensed momentarily upon hearing your voice. He hadn't expected you. You could see it in the way his eyes widened slightly, the way his jaw clenched. "You shouldn't be here," He muttered, a frown creasing his forehead.

"Enzo let me in," You explained, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Besides," You added, walking towards him, "Who's going to keep you motivated and wish you good luck before your match?" He grinned, the tension that had been plaguing him earlier visibly melting away, replaced by a warmth that spread across his features. He reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. "You," He said, his voice husky, a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Always you." He leaned in, his eyes searching yours, a mixture of longing and possessiveness burning within them.

You closed your eyes, tilting your head up, meeting his lips with a fervor that mirrored his own. His kiss was demanding, passionate, a whirlwind of emotions that swept you off your feet. The world around you faded away, leaving only the intensity of his touch, the taste of mint and something faintly metallic, the scent of his cologne mixing with the earthy aroma of the changing room. Your fingers tangled in his hair, your hands tracing the contours of his face, memorizing every curve, every imperfection.

He groaned softly against your lips, pulling you closer, his body pressed against yours. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, the strength of his arms around you, a comforting anchor in the whirlwind of emotions. Time seemed to cease to exist, replaced by the intoxicating rhythm of his kisses, the intoxicating scent of him. Finally, he pulled back, his eyes searching yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “There’s plenty more of where that came from, after you win.” Upon hearing the implication in your words, a mischievous glint returned to his eyes.

You smiled, your heart pounding against your ribs. "Now go out there and show them what you're made of. Go kick some Hufflepuff arse!" He grinned, his eyes sparkling with a newfound confidence. "For you," He murmured, pressing a final, lingering kiss to your lips before turning and striding towards the field, his Quidditch robes swirling around him. You watched him go, your heart overflowing with pride and a fierce protectiveness of your own. Sneaking out, before Madame Hooch could scold you, you made your way towards the stands.

Your chest burned with pride among seeing fellow Slytherin’s decked out in house pride, eagerly awaiting the match to start. "Where were you?" Pansy pulled you into her side, eager to shield herself from the cold. "You were gone forever!" Astoria, who was beside you, smirked. "Oh Pans," She drawled, reaching over to poke your rosy cheek. "Just look at her." She pointed to your blushing complexion, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I bet you ten galleons that Malfoy and her were snogging." She snickered. "Shut up!" You exclaimed, though a blush crept up your neck despite your denial. You knew Astoria was right, of course. But you weren't about to admit it.

Thankfully, the roar of the crowd as the Slytherin and Hufflepuff Quidditch teams took to the field was able to distract both girls from questioning you further. Draco, resplendent in emerald green, looked every bit the confident Seeker, a glint of determination in his eyes. You watched him from the stands, your heart pounding in your chest. He caught your gaze and gave you a small, encouraging smile, the tension that had plagued him earlier completely gone. At the sound of Madame Hooch’s whistle the match began with a flurry of activity. Bludgers whizzed through the air, narrowly missing players.

Chasers weaved and dodged, their expressions grim as they battled for possession of the Quaffle. Draco, however, remained calm and collected, his eyes scanning the field, ever vigilant for the elusive Golden Snitch. The first few minutes of the game were a fierce battle for dominance. Neither team seemed to have a clear advantage. Then, in a spectacular move, Draco, with a sudden burst of speed, intercepted a Hufflepuff pass, soaring through the air with a grace that took your breath away. The crowd erupted in cheers, their voices a thunderous roar that echoed through the stadium.

However, the joy was short-lived. Bryce Cavendish, a look of pure hatred etched on his face, veered sharply towards Draco, his broom dangerously close to colliding with the blonde's. Draco, agile and experienced, managed to avoid the collision, but the near miss seemed to have rattled him. He shook his head, trying to regain his focus, but it was clear that Cavendish had gotten to him. “You can do it, Draco!” You shouted hoping he could hear you over the crowd. Your eyes met Cavenish’s, the smirk on his lips making your fists and jaw clench. Bloody bastard.

The match continued, a tense and hard-fought battle. Draco, despite his initial setback, played with a fierce determination, his every move calculated and precise. He made several impressive catches, weaving through the Hufflepuff defense with a skill that drew gasps from the crowd. But then, disaster struck. As Draco soared through the air, his eyes fixed on the elusive Snitch, a sudden wave of dizziness washed over him. He felt disoriented, his grip on his broom loosening. You watched in horror as he tried to regain control, but it was too late.

The crowd gasped as Draco plummeted towards the ground. He landed with a sickening thud, his body crumpling against the grass. A hush fell over the stadium, broken only by your panicked cries. You felt your blood run cold. You pushed your way through the crowd, your heart pounding in your chest. As you reached Draco's side, the sight that greeted you stole the air from your lungs. He lay motionless on the ground, his face pale and drawn, a thin trickle of blood snaking from the corner of his mouth. His left arm was bent at an unnatural angle, the bone clearly visible protruding through a tear in his robes.

His eyes were closed, his usually arrogant features slack and vulnerable. Madam Hooch was already at his side, her face etched with deep concern, her wand glowing with a soft, diagnostic light. She was muttering under her breath, her brow furrowed in concentration. She looked up at you, her eyes filled with a grim understanding. “He’s sustained a number of injuries, a broken arm. He’s also… he’s hit his head quite hard.” She gestured towards a small but rapidly swelling lump on Draco’s temple, half-hidden by his pale blonde hair. “We need to get him to the infirmary immediately.”

You knelt beside Draco, your hand trembling as you reached out to touch his face. His skin was cold and clammy. “Draco?” You whispered, your voice barely audible. There was no response. Panic clawed at your throat, making it difficult to breathe. “Draco, please,” You begged, tears stinging your eyes. You pressed your fingers against his wrist, searching frantically for a pulse. It was faint, thready, almost imperceptible. Madam Hooch placed a hand on your shoulder, her grip firm but gentle. “He’s unconscious. We need to move him carefully. I’ll summon a stretcher.” She raised her wand again, this time a burst of red sparks shot into the air, signaling for assistance.

Within moments, two medi-wizards arrived, pushing their way through the throng of onlookers. They knelt beside Draco, their faces professional and detached, a stark contrast to the fear and concern etched on the faces of the students surrounding them. They quickly assessed Draco’s injuries, their movements precise and efficient. You watched as they placed him carefully onto a floating stretcher, securing him with enchanted restraints. As they lifted the stretcher, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from Draco’s still form. You followed the medi-wizards as they floated the stretcher through the crowd, your heart a lead weight in your chest.

The whispers of the onlookers followed you, hushed and anxious. You ignored them all. All you could focus on was Draco. That was until out of your peripheral you spotted the man who did this to him. Bryce Cavendish, his face flushed with an adrenaline-fueled high, was grinning triumphantly at the crowd. The cocky smile he was hiding behind his fist made your blood boil. You surged forward, rage blinding you. "You bloody bastard!" Before you could strike, Cedric Diggory, had his hands around your waist, pulling you away from Bryce. "As much as I would love to see you put him in his place, I have a feeling Malfoy needs you right now."

Cedric's words brought you back to reality. You couldn't afford to be distracted by your anger, not when Draco needed you. "Okay," You surrendered pulling yourself out of Cedric's hold. You were never one for conflict, but the way he was smirking cockily, knowing he had succeeded in hurting Draco, made your anger resurface. Before you could even think about it, you were already in front of him, your right arm pulled back, striking him across the face before he could even react. As you heard a sickening crack, when your knuckles met his nose, you felt an unexpected surge of satisfaction. You had never punched anyone in your life, but the feeling of adrenaline coursing through your veins was exhilarating.

"Consider yourself lucky it wasn't an unforgivable curse," You hissed, your voice dripping with venom, "I won't be as nice if there's ever a next time." He stared at you, his eyes wide with shock and disbelief as he clutched his now broken nose in pain. "Oi, Diggory!" He hissed, his voice a mixture of pain and indignation. "Aren't you going to do something?" Cedric, who had been watching the exchange, simply shrugged. "I didn't see anything," He replied casually, his eyes twinkling with amusement. Turing towards you, he gave you a reassuring smile, motioning towards the hospital wing. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him, you have my word.” You didn't need to be told twice.

You were sure your fingers were on the verge of bleeding with how much you were picking at them, the raw skin a testament to your anxiety. But that was the least of your problems considering the love of your life was laying motionless in front of you. The crisp, sterile scent of the Medical Wing filled your nostrils, a constant, unwelcome reminder of the gravity of the situation. The only thing keeping you sane was the steady rise and fall of his chest against the sheets.

You were sure the only reason as to why Madam Pomfrey had let you stay overnight was due to how distraught you looked. Your face, pale and tear-stained, was probably a picture of despair. You'd practically begged her, your voice a desperate croak, to let you stay by his side. The thought of leaving him alone, even for a moment, was unbearable. Your grip on his hand did not falter, no matter how uncomfortable the chair was on your back. The hard, unforgiving wood dug into your spine, but you didn't care.

You weren't leaving his side until those grey eyes you loved so much were staring back at you. Each shallow breath he took, each labored rise and fall of his chest, was a precious lifeline, a fragile thread connecting you to the boy who was everything to you. Time seemed to crawl, each agonizing second stretching into an eternity. "I knew I'd find you in here," Theodore Nott's voice interrupted your thoughts, but your eyes stayed glued to Draco. You barely registered his presence, your mind consumed by the fear that gnawed at your insides.

"Dolcezza," He coaxed, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him, your eyes red-rimmed and swollen, and managed a weak smile. "He hasn't moved all night, Theo. I'm so fucking worried." Hearing the pain in your voice, the raw, unfiltered fear that laced every word, was all it took for Theo to pull you into an embrace. "He's a stubborn bastard, he'll be alright." He held you close, his own body trembling slightly, as if mirroring your own. “While I admire the sentiment, I’d appreciate if got your hands off my girl, Nott.” Draco’s voice, raspy with sleep, cut through the hushed silence of the hospital wing.

You pulled back from Theo, your eyes widening in surprise. Draco was sitting up in bed, his face pale, bruises darkening on his temple, but his eyes sparkling with amusement nonetheless. "Draco," You breathed out, immediately separating yourself from the brunette boy and carefully climbing into the open arm of your boyfriend. Despite your attempts to be mindful of his bruises and broken arm, he pulled you closer. "I'll go tell the other's you're awake," Theo interrupted giving you and Draco a smile. "I'm glad you're okay, you twit." In response Draco merely waved him off, giving you his undivided attention.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his face for any sign of lingering pain. "How do you feel?" You asked, your voice soft with concern. He shrugged, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips, "Sore," He admitted, "But otherwise, I feel surprisingly well." You nodded, feeling the tightness in your throat return as tears gathered at the corners of your eyes. "Don't ever do that to me again." You whispered, shaking your head. "Darling," He coaxed, raising his hand to wipe the tears from your eyes, his thumb gently tracing the path they had left behind. "Don't cry," He murmured, his voice filled with concern. "You know I hate it when you cry."

"You scared me, so much," You whispered, burying your face in his chest, clinging to him as if he might disappear again. He held you close, his arms wrapping around you like a protective shield, his heart beating a steady rhythm against your ear. Proof that he was okay, and alive. "I'm sorry, love," He murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You both laid there for what seemed an eternity, the silence broken only by the soft rhythmic thumping of his heart and the distant murmur of conversation from the hallway.

Draco couldn't seem to let you get you closer to him, even when you both were practically intertwined. You smiled as he pressed a kiss to both your temples, cheeks, purposely skipping your lips as he grabbed your hand and brought it to his face. "Why are your knuckles red?" He questioned, concern etched on his face. “Well,” A small smile made its way onto your face as you recalled what you did. "I might have punched the daylights out of Cavendish." You muttered nonchalantly. Draco's eyes widened in surprise. "You what?" He questioned, wondering if he had her you correctly or if it was the concussion talking.

"He used a Confundus Charm on you," You explained, shrugging your shoulders as if it were no big deal. "And I wasn't going to let it slide." Draco stared at you, a mixture of amusement and disbelief on his face. He burst out laughing, his laughter echoing through the quiet room. "You," He managed to get out between laughs, "You actually punched him." You couldn't help but laugh with him. It felt good, exhilarating even. You had never punched anyone before, but standing up for Draco, protecting him, it felt… right. You looked up to find him already looking at you with nothing but pure adoration.

"Merlin, I love you so fucking much." Before you could react and reciprocate his words, he had grasped the sides of your face before pulling you into an unexpected kiss. This kiss, unlike the one you two shared on the pitch, was different. It was raw, vulnerable. It held so much love and so much fear all at once. It was as if the world around you had faded away, leaving just the two of you in that moment. The intensity of emotions was overwhelming, a silent conversation of hearts beating in sync. Every touch, every breath, every lingering second felt like a promise, a confession, and a plea all rolled into one.

"That's my girl," He praised as you separated for air yet he remained close. Nose to nose. Chest to chest. “My brave and badass girl, I can’t believe you punched someone for little old me.” You couldn’t help but blush at his words, no matter how many times you had heard him say them before. "I love you too," You echoed giving him a chaste kiss despite his intentions to deepen it. "Consider yourself very lucky to have someone like me, Malfoy." You smirked playfully pushing his platinum locks away from his eyes. The ones that were currently looking at you as if you hung the stars. "Always do, darling." He admitted, pulling you into another kiss which stifled your giggle. Lucky indeed.

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