#The way that they know each other better than anyone

[screampied]

‘ #KNOCK(HER)OUT ! ’

ᡴꪫ‎ sum. you get more than what you bargained for by getting involved with two boxers—two boxers that can’t keep their hands off the pretty new journalist. what happens in the ring stays in the ring though…. right?

wc. 5.7k

warnings. fem! reader x t. fushiguro & s. ryōmen, boxer!au, thrēesome, manhandling, unprotected, semi public, size kink, ōral (f & m receiving), head lock, spīt, sqūirting, they fight over you, brēeding, fīngering, implied multiple ōrgasms, nipple play.

an. based on this ask, haven’t recovered since :,)

sukuna ryōmen and toji fushiguro. . .

the talk of the town. top most infamous boxers of your city, they were supposedly rivals but ended up becoming super close friends. 'friends' was probably a stretch. acquaintances was probably a far better word to describe the two. there was hardly anyone that didn’t tune into your detailed magazines about them—your occupation? a journalist. you’d be the first to write about their fights, their strengths, weaknesses, their total wins & losses, and even a few unnecessary things like their love life. you were new, but you were good. always in the front row, you’d watch them spar against some of the most scariest opponents imaginable. something about guys taking it out in the ring right before your eyes got your panties in a twist. how unprofessional..

you only did it for the money, the publicity— a lot of people adored your skill to make such stories so interesting. between toji and sukuna, they were almost always compared, and oh did they hate it. ex rivals continuously pinned against each other, it’d piss anyone off. although, you were in dire need for a new story topic to write and you just so happen to stumble into their private gym.

“yo,” a rough sly yet cunning voice mutters, and it’s so deep—you recognize it from anywhere, toji fushiguro in the flesh. “are ya lost? no fuckin’ autographs.”

“don’t be rude, ‘toj,” and your eyes avert towards sukuna— he’s a few inches taller and your eyes roam at them both. they had droplets of sweat racing down their washboard abs, scars coating their skin with ruffled hair as if they’d just finished a match. sukuna drags his feet towards you before his eyes light up. “ohh, i know you,” he snickers, grabbing your notepad before nudging his friend. “she’s our little journalist toji. and she’s a damn fine one too..”

“. . . uh,” was all you could make out, feeling a sudden tightness in your stomach. your eyes continue to stare, your lewd thoughts only become more and more vulgar. seconds pass before you realize sukuna took your notebook, toji pauses his sets to get a good look at you. “i thought this was the ladies' room.”

“girl bye,” toji grumbles with two hands buried into his shorts pockets— he reads right through you as if you were some sort of exposed novel. people said he was a lot sassier in person but you didn’t think it’d actually be true. green dark eyes linger onto you for a long time before he stretches, leaning down to get a good glimpse at your figure. “did you come here just to stare or what?”

you were taken aback at how blunt he was.

a coy grin appears on his lips as he watches you struggle to formulate a good enough response.

you were nosy, you were really really nosy. for once, perhaps you didn’t wanna just jot down things about these two— just maybe, just maybe . . you wanted a hands-on experience.

“i… needed new material for my article before the next match starts,” you utter, squeezing your thighs together. sukuna tilts his head, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel hot. toji’s stare was ten times more intimate, darkened irises practically staring right into your soul—you knew this wasn’t the bathroom, you were lying. “i was hoping maybe you’d give me some uh . . inspo.”

they were both towering over you with height, you felt small—like an ant that was preparing itself to be crushed by a villainous shoe.

“inspiration, she says?” sukuna hums, his voice is low—raspy, an almost purr hiding underneath it before he moves closer towards you. “just tell us what you really want, princess.”

“nah don’t get all shy now,” toji chimes in once he sees you grow more sheepish. they both close in on you—you felt like you were trapped in a fever dream, you weren’t exactly complaining either. they smelled so good, a mixture of sultry sweat and a loud scent of heavy cologne that wafts throughout the entire training room. “you got our attention so spit it out, girl.”

“i— i want you both.” you finally mutter after seven long consecutive seconds. with the way toji’s staring right through you, you felt like your stomach sank between your legs - your legs that were throbbing with nothing but mere arousal, again perhaps this was unprofessional. no, it was very unprofessional—but anyone would kill to be in your position, being sandwiched between the top two boxers of your city.

sukuna snickers. “both? what makes you think i’d wanna share with this bum?”

“shut up,” toji snarls, and the way his facial expressions tense a bit—so attractive. the headlines + press was right about toji, he was a lot more handsome in person. he was a fairly new boxer yet a pure lady's man. he’s had a plethora of fangirls while in the ring and maybe you were one of them. as he inches towards you with a hand softly gripping underneath your chin, he inhales. his entire facial structure, so chiseled—brief dark stubble coats the entirety lower half of his jaw and he rubs his left boxing glove against his left knee. “that really want you want? both of us?” and his voice softens. it’s a bit more pitchy and low, and he sneers. “on me, look at me when you reply too, girl.”

your lip gradually pulls down from his thumb playing against it. you felt so hot, the air suddenly felt thick.

a sudden lump gets caught in your throat before you mumble. “i want you both,” and your eyes meet the dark-haired boxer, simultaneously glancing at his attire— shirtless, boxing shorts on with his custom-made ‘fushiguro’ briefs wilting near the top—only showing the hem part. just a teensy detail like that was so enticing that you even spot a few parts of his exposing snatched waist. only after awhile you then abruptly snap out of your vulgar fantasm. “…please.”

“the real question is, pretty little journalist,” sukuna steps in, a hand stroking against your chin. you didn’t know where to even look. both boxers had their hands on you and the tightened squeezing between your plush thighs grew even more. “can you handle both?”

“yes.” you’d speak in a soft voice, most likely as of now you were probably speaking from between your legs—you didn’t care though, everyone’s a little delusional at some point. emphasis on a little in your case, because you had no idea what you were getting in to with these two.

toji snickers. “hm,” he mutters, eyes focusing on you for a long time before he raises his chin. “fine. let’s test your strength then,” and he briefly gazes at sukuna. “sukuna. we can take her ‘n the ring.”

and they mean it quite literally— taking you, the both of them versus you, except you weren’t relatively fighting.

not in that sense, but it was versus an opponent that was throbbing between your thighs.

the arena was empty, about a good hundred or more vacant blood-shot red seats scatter everywhere.

inside the ring, it was a mere raised platform, guided and shaped by strong stringy ropes that were yanking between poles at each side and corner. you lay on the spongy canvas of the ring’s floor before biting back a moan.

“scared yet?” sukuna hums, and he props himself right between your legs. this was risky—entirely risky, anyone could just walk in. besides, you were pretty sure they had a match in about a good forty-five minutes. with sprawled-out legs, he moved closer before dragging a thumb down your panties. his voice was a bit deeper than toji’s, they both shared the same amount of rasp.

sukuna had the charm, toji had the suaveness.

you shake your head, feeling yourself grow even hotter the more he stalls time. it feels warm, the entire air around you is humidly thick and you whine as he teasingly bites your panties. not enough to pierce his teeth into your folds, but he bites near the fabric—you watch, the string of your underwear slowly dragging with him. yet, you can’t help but glance at toji who’s just standing there—arms crossed and that same scowl that stuck against his face. “mhm,” he jibes, eyes flickering towards toji. “toji. she’s looking at you.”

“i know she fuckin’ is,” he grumbles, and your head tilts upward. you’re face first with his bulge that was right against your face. talk about space, it was right there. such a big bulge, who were you even kidding though—you found yourself gawking at his bulge at every match he had. with the skin-tight shorts he’d worn, you just knew he was nothing more than a packer. “nosy girl. y’er mouth bored or somethin’?” and he watches your hands paw at the hem of his tucked-out briefs. “need a bit of throat training, huh?”

sukuna’s playing with your panties still. by now, he’s peeling them towards the crevices of your thighs and you whine whilst you feel a thumb of his drag down your honeyed slit. sopping wet, just a three-second stare and he was suddenly esurient.

“look at me, not him,” toji lightly turns your head to face back up to him again. his bulge, his damn bulge that was right up against you. you nod, feeling your mouth dry—you wanted your throat to be filled, it wasn’t even a question. toji gruffs lowly, moving your chin side to side. “huuuh? girl, i don’t speak silence. thought i told ya how to use those words when you speak.”

“i- i wanna suck you off, ‘toj,” and you get cut off once he pulls his boxing shorts down halfway, bringing your face close to his briefs. you’re taken by surprise once he makes you rub your face against his hardened bulge—you moan, as if on instinct, your tongue lolls out just to taste him. even if it’s just the clothed fabric protecting his actual cock, it was something.

he scoffs. “y’er a nasty girl, huh,” he mumbles, peering down to see sukuna starting to lick against your cunt. your legs quaver upon impact and you slump back against the corner of the ring. “can’t wait, yeah. want me to train this empty throat? maybe it’ll make ya a better journalist, nosy ass.”

you’d almost laugh at his little side remark if it wasn’t for sukuna’s tongue lapping against your slick entrance. your lips part as you lean back, a hand going through his hair. “mphm,” he grunts, one hand squeezing the right part of your thigh. “sweetest taste i’ve had in a . . . looong while.” and he’s so sloppy, not even a few seconds pass before he’s already slurping. your panties were lazily shoved to the side and that’s when toji hauls down his briefs.

you gulp, damn.

he wasn’t just big, he was huge…

your mouth starts to salivate the more you stared at the swollen shaft. toji was a big guy . . hence meaning, toji he was a thick guy.

staggering height and a fat base to back it up, he had about two veins running down the side. his tip was a reddish pink, you could already taste him throbbing in your mouth. toji was quite well shaved a bit— though, it was a few specks of black hairs scattered everywhere. however, his happy trail was so pleasing to look. it roams all down his sculpted body, he sighs once you slowly wrap a hand around his cock.

“spit the fuck on it.”

five words and you didn’t hesitate to roll out your pink tongue once more.

you gather a good amount before watching it coat against his pink sweet tip. he groans, watching your hand stroke him a bit. he was so big, so fucking big that you could barely wrap your entire hand around his dick. toji groans, watching you make a total mess out of yourself. pretty glossy lips, pretty glossy lips that would soon be wrapped around his hefty length.

once you get it wet enough, you gently move your mouth onto him. he hisses, the warmth of your throat has his abs clenching.

“m-mhm,” you’d moan out, though your words were purely muffled. sukuna’s sucking on your clit, occasionally nipping and nibbling on it just to make you squirm even more. it was cute— the way your legs could barely hold still, so this was your weak spot. it’s what he thought to himself, lapping his tongue against your slick entrance. brief kisses coat near your folds before he maneuvers such circles against your pussy. feeling his canines nip against your folds every few seconds had you feral in the best way possible.

“y’er makin’ her squirm all over, ‘kuna,” toji lowly chuckles, such baritone in his voice that it makes you soak even more. you didn’t even know how it was possible with the way you were just profusely dripping like a faucet. not even—you put faucets to shame with how slick you were, quickly coating the lower part of sukuna’s chin with your syrupy taste. “open that mouth a ‘lil more, yeah . . . yeah,” and he tilts your head back a bit, prying your mouth open some more. he starts to slowly sink his cock in, so slow. the pace was incredibly tantalizing, your tongue runs against his slit before he pushed more inches inside. “fuckkk, girl,” he continues to grunt out, knees already starting to buckle. the way you took him in, hollow cheeks all puffed, you were already starting to drool a bit. small amounts of your saliva trickle past the corners of your lips as he goes deeper and deeper. deeper until his tip ends up mashing against your uvula and you gag.

“. . ooooh,” he hums, and just a simple noise as that was so seductive. “good…. good,” he swallows, a hand digging through your hair before maintaining a good grip against it. “now . . let’s test this pretty throat’s durability, hm.”

your little nod makes his sly smile widen, your jaw hangs and he starts to gradually piston his hips. such a mess, he was just so big that you were surprised all of it even fit.

“alllll the way down, shit,” your head starts to move, bobbling as your tongue swiftly running against his pulsating head. he gnashes his teeth together, dim eyes flickering towards your hands. you were feeling hot yourself so you made a cute attempt at reaching between your legs. doing so only greets you to a soft concise smack.

“hands to yourself, silly girl,” sukuna grumbles, and this time he grabs your wrist. he simpers, watching you try to even still rub one out but with his grip, you weren’t getting anywhere. as your mouth was occupied with such inches, you whimper once you feel sukuna spank your cunt a few times. “don’t touch my pussy.”

one turns into two, then three, then four. . .

your pretty cunt starts to become his new obsession—the way you’d squelch for him so easily, he gets hard in his boxers. so wet, he knows the layout as if he’s so used to doing this. you wouldn’t be surprised, especially with a tongue like he had. lapping left and right, he parts your legs just a bit farther before the tip of his tongue swirls all around it. he lays it flat, getting a good enough taste before giving it yet another mean spank.

you whimper, feeling your tummy cave in before toji makes you face him once more. “eyes up here, eyes on me,” and he sounds almost jealous the more you focus your attention strictly on his boxer acquaintance. you’re still stroking him, a thumb sliding down a vein that prods alongside his shaft and he groans. your throat, so warm that he starts to feel his right thigh bounce. “should be . . usin’ this throat for shit like this instead of running that mouth.” his voice pitches lower, boxer shorts pulled down and his hair was slightly ruffled. you stare up at toji and he gives you that same cunning smirk. oh, you were soaked. again, this simply felt like a fever dream. even if at the slightest chance that you were dreaming, you never wanted to wake up.

toji’s quite talkative throughout the entire thing, sukuna’s dragging you further and further onto your incoming release and your legs start to rapidly shake even more. you whine and mewl out such sweetened moans, occasionally coming back up for air as you kept his cock warm in your mouth. each time it hits the roof of your mouth, you let off a straddled noise and he finds it so cute, so filthy.

“relax y’er throat, girl,” he mutters, a firm grip on your scalp. with glossy eyes, you follow his words and you stop gagging a bit. he grunts, getting hard every time your pretty eyes make direct contact with him. “such a pretty girl when you listen.” and his tone gets a bit more sensual, more tender.

you whine, feeling sukuna insert a single finger inside of you—you swallow his digit almost immediately and you cringe at hearing your own salaciously lewd squelches.

soaking, sopping wet,

three perfect words to describe between your legs, you choke out a moan once you feel that sensation brew right up inside your stomach. steadily, it was coming closer and closer. you’re breathing through your nose—feeling a few of his pubic hairs tickle against you. you’re moaning, eyes becoming half-lidded and droopy. toji had a mere pout stretching against his face and he felt himself coming close too.

the icing on the cake was your tongue, the way you swirl and slide it against his frenulum—he groans out a low grunt that rings throughout the arena. it reverberates, it's raspy and it only makes you even more aroused. “s-shit, you close too?”

you nod, and toji jeers, finding it amusing to taunt with you as you’re about to reach your inevitable peak. “yeah? gonna make a mess on ‘kuna’s face?”

“told ya don’t call me that,” sukuna grouses, resuming to pump not one but two fingers into you now—you’re almost there. it’s a hot feeling stirring up near your lower abdomen, a pool of it. your eyes start to roll, still slobbering down toji’s cock before he starts to thrust and thrust into your mouth.

“make me.” toji stared at him—and the both of them grew quiet before laughing with each other.

idiots.

your maw opens just a bit wider, and he’s shoving himself in and out of your tight throat—the noises that follow are so lewd, he finds you so pretty like this. mascara all smeared and runny, your hand continues to wrap around his length—his sagged base, so full. you start to salivate again, imagining what his taste was like. you craved it like you crave sweets, sukuna’s tongue running against your clit only made things far more intense before you start to convulse.

“f-fuckkk, ‘m gonna cum,” toji rasps, tilting your head back a bit more. you stare at him, tongue still grazing against the pulsing slit before after a few more pumps—he shoots a nice velvety load into your mouth. he grunts lowly, nostrils flaring up, jaw tightening and all. “. . damn,” he swallows, allowing himself to slow down. you end up finishing around the same time, costing sukuna’s mouth with a honeyed amount of your slick and he hums. you whimper, legs barely able to hold themselves up before you feel toji’s dick pour the remnants of his cum flat on your tongue. “nah, don’t fuckin’ swallow yet. stick it out, lemme see that shit.”

your legs felt like they were about to fall off, sukuna’s kissing near your now swollen entrance and you slowly loll out your tongue. obeying, you didn’t exactly swallow yet and he hums. “best savor that shit,” he groans, giving his veiny cock a few subtle strokes before he smacks his angry tip against your tongue. “and where’s my thank you for the meal, baby?”

“t—thwak y—you toji,” you speak, barely coherent with his seed splattered all on your tongue. you didn’t wanna spill any, and if you did—you didn’t wanna stick around to find out his reaction.

“yeah,” he huffs. “you can swallow now. get every drop in.”

sukuna moves towards you, you’re still laid on the ring’s mat before he softly wraps a hand around your throat. “hey. don’t let this bastard have all the fun, i want a taste too,” and you're taken by surprise once he pulls you into a deep steamy kiss. you moan, feeling him quite literally take your breath away. your tongue drags against sukuna’s chin, the bitterness. a concoction mixture of your saliva and his mixes, and you whine once he snakes a hand up your blazer. you taste yourself on his tongue and it’s so dirty, hot breaths mash against each other, teeth gnashing, and only then do you feel his cunning smirk.

“no one told you to hog her,” toji grumbles, pulling you back towards him. you briefly gasp for air and they both stare at each other, then you. “tell me, baby. who’d you think win in a fight? me or this . . . thing.”

sukuna glares.

“i don’t … know,” you pant out, heaving from your current orgasm—so cute, yet you only wanted more. from kissing sukuna to having your throat entirely filled, you didn’t know which was better. “can we finish?”

“aw, is someone impatient?” sukuna titters, and you stare at his glistening body—beads of sweat race down his precious v-line, the ideal body for a boxer. you just couldn’t stop staring at his pecs, so chiseled. you even thought his pictures were edited, but seeing them up close . . you wanted him, you wanted both of them. “hm. how ‘bout this? we teach you a few ah, moves. full nelson to start, ‘s pretty easy.”

easy, sure.

with it all being easy, you’d least expect to be put into a full nelson position. a mere popular wrestling position, although you’d be performing it with no one other than sukuna.

he’d have you slump back against him, hooking both arms underneath your thighs as you’re taking such mean thrusts from him. time and time again, you’re spasming out. mouth all open, saliva running down the very corners of your lips before you moan. “s—sukuna, oh my godddd,” and you glance up at toji who’s got a cute pout, stroking himself. you lost count of the time, it’s probably been about a good thirty-three minutes by now, thirty plus minutes of various teeth shattering orgasms. your head hits back against him and each time his tip smacks against your cervix, you short circuit. “fuck, fuck, right there, hit it thereee.”

“you coachin’ me how to fuck, dumb girl?” he chortles with a groan shortly following—he was so deep, the heftiness of his base taps against you each time you bounce back against his cock. he sucks his teeth, the way you easily took him had him groaning all up against your ear. “gotta get a little more stretchy, we gotta . . hah, work on your flexibility too, huh.”

“sukuna hurry the fuck up. watching you fuck my girl ‘s boring as shit,” toji grouses, pumping his cock into his fist every few seconds—you stare and he’s so needy, you could tell. his scowl he had earlier forms into a cute pout, dark eyebrows furrowing together and he’s growing impatient.

you caught that though. ‘my’ girl.

who would have thought toji . . the womanizing boxer who’s never had time for any woman throughout his career would start batting for you?

“your girl?” sukuna snickers, resuming to hold your legs up a bit further. he reaches so deep, that your stomach starts to seize and your maw drops. hooded eyes, your lashes flutter and you felt continuous strained breaths get yanked from your lungs. “your girl yet she’s gettin’ fucked by me? the better boxer?”

toji snarls, and he kneels to kiss you. you moan, barely able to return the gesture since you were in the midst of taking sukuna. with being gifted with such sharp thrusts, you dig your nails into his thighs before running tangling your tongue alongside toji’s. his breath was warm, you whine once you feel one of his hands stroke your cheek.

“aha, look at him. already whipped before me,” sukuna snickers, feeling you sink and gape around him—he stretched you out so good already, it was so relentless. each time you bounce back against his lap, the ringing in your ears grows louder and louder. he feels his dick twitch inside you. seeing you make out with toji irks him a bit before he spanks your ass—the recoil making him even more aroused than before. sukuna hums, seeing the current pout on toji’s face before nodding, “aw. toji wants a turn too, yeah? don’t ya . . big guy?” and he intakes a breath, your pussy constricting around his length as sukuna pulls you further to slam back and forth against him. you’re moving against him now as his dick jackhammers right into your gummy was. your mouth idly dangles with your tongue stil shamelessly lolled out. a raw moan rips from the back of your throat at the pure feeling of utter bliss.

so thick, so girthy—you gasp once you feel his fingers tend towards your neglected tits. toji shortly follows, a hand going between your thighs. your cunt was all stuffed of sukuna, feeding your swollen pussy was so many inches. “hngh, f-fuck, fuckkk,” you’d whine between wet, saturated kisses. toji purposely feels against your folds, all stuffed and sopping wet. he rubs a thumb against your slick entrance as your legs were just about to give out. “toji, m-more. need you to touch me more.”

“you don’t need shit, little girl,” he corrects you, squeezing your lips together before presses a kiss against it. you moan, your ass stinging every few seconds from the stings of sukuna’s palm making direct contact against your ass cheek. spank after spank, oh how he adores the jiggle. he could watch it all day, even in slow motion if he could. “such a cute thing though, had the nerve to say you thought our training room was the fuckin’ ladies' room.”

you cringe once he repeats that. the same ringing going through your ears once more. your ears perk, hearing sukuna’s raspy grunts against the shells of your lobes before you start to stammer, “toji, touch me.”

“i’ll touch this messy body when i wanna,” he gruffs, leaning to nip kisses near your neck. sukuna’s still holding you up—you’re like a rag doll, eyes goggling from the stretch before you start to feel it. not your orgasm, but something entirely different. it was a new type of pressure, sweet whiny moans emit out of you before you feel sukuna’s rude tip thrash against your g-spot again, and again, and again..

toji’s thumb softly strokes underneath your neck as he pulls you into a short kiss. you whimper, pulling away before spreading your legs a bit further.

“i— something’s coming, i f-feel tingly.”

sukuna roughly laughs against your ear, seemingly getting what you were implying. “yeah, gonna make another mess on us, princess? oh. i mean on me, heh?”

you shudder, your pussy feeling entirely stuffed and your eyes merely roll way back. he fit nice and snug, you bare around him before a whine drags out your throat. so deep, so so deep, you’re spasming—each relentless piston of his hips makes you whine louder. a feeling that was purely euphoric welts right against you, and you’re laid all back against sukuna’s bare chest, riding him in reverse. “c-choke me, ‘kuna, choke me, please.”

“want me to put you in a headlock, yeah,” he whispers to you in a rough low voice. you moan, feeling him lick against your earlobe before toji strokes your cheek. you could tell he wanted a turn too, the pout on his lips stretching even further. you’re nodding against him before your cunt gapes more. “sure. i’ll let you in on what my opponents feel, pretty girl.”

you moan, his voice was so low up against your ear, you’re about to cum. or were you, you swallow thickly despite having a sudden dry throat— voice all raspy and strained from moaning for such a duration that your head’s woozy. it feels too good, your thighs ache and quaver before you feel a beefy arm wrap around your neck. “upsie daisy, thereee we go,” and he scoots you on his lap just a bit farther. he’s buried to the hilt. you moan, toji pulling you into the nth kiss of the night, lips moving in pure tandem. just when you’re about to finish, you feel him rub against your stuffed cunt once more. yet that’s only when you decide to move your hands towards the boxers . . . nipples.

“t-the fuck,” he grunts in a hoarse tone, his voice was suddenly a bit shaky. it was cute—you couldn’t lie to yourself, you found yourself staring at toji’s chest way more often than you should. practically always shirtless, his pecs were huge. such pink swollen nipples, you slide a thumb against it and he shivers from your touch. “fuckin’ weirdo. ‘m sensitive there, s-shit.”

he doesn’t tell you to stop—instead, he grips your hair not so tightly but firmly. you look up at him, speaking in a tiny yet sheepish tone. “can— can i?”

“can ya what?” he grits, watching as sukuna continues to feed your cunt of his cock — you were just about to burst, you felt it and your toes clench and curl all up. so cute.

with a thumb still sliding against his pecs tenderly, you murmur. dilated pupils flicker towards his chest, then back up at him. “. . can,” you huff out in short breaths, tummy seizing, breathing hot and heavy. “can i suck on them?”

“no you can’t fuckin’ suck on them. what kinda question is tha—”

“toji, don’t be fuckin’ mean. you claim she’s your girl so let her suck your tits, big guy.” sukuna chimes in, releasing his soft grip against your neck. you gasp, leaning way back against him now. he was so warm pent up against you—you whimper out, sukuna leans against your ear and he starts to talk you through your incoming orgasm. “right? wanna make toji a little whiny bitch?”

“shut the fuck up,” he rasps, and his pecs literally stare at you—so beefy, you could have sworn they twitched. he groans, watching you give him such eyes before he inches closer towards you, bending down. “…….fine. whatever.”

still grinding against sukuna’s lap, you hold toji’s pecs before latching your tongue against it. his face scrunches up and it’s so cute, for whatever reason, the way your tongue curls against his perky nipples feels … good. awkwardly, he pulls your head closer towards his chest, eyeing closely as you briefly start to suck. as usual, you were so sloppy too—moaning up against his sensitive skin, rolling your tongue all against his nipple.

“nasty little g—girl,” he chokes out.

you glance up at him, parting your lips away before he makes you go back to tending to his tense nipples. “i didn’t tell you to stop. use y’er fuckin’ tongue some more. and stare at me while you do that . . . weird shit.”

toji’s voice significantly pitches and you’re so into it that you don’t even realize that before you know it, you end up squirting. everything comes at once, you’re pulsing with sukuna’s cock still twitching vigorously inside you and you whimper, mouth still sucking onto toji’s tits nipples. low laughter could be heard from behind you, and it’s all so much. your pussy was equivalent to a waterpark, gushing out all into sukuna’s lap. “fuckkk, princess,” he chortles, slowing down your hips and he ends up finishing a few seconds after you.

when he came inside, it came out quite a lot too. a hefty amount, it came out in ropes to where he paints the entirety of your womb. so warm from the inside, your tummy briefly caves in and your legs felt like mush.

“heh, did you just squirt?” sukuna points out, cock still twitching inside but he just lies still. you’re stretched out literally on the mat, seeing pure stars— the lights of the arena merely blinding you before you lie back against him. “a squirter and you’re tapping out already? aw boo. ‘n here i thought you could handle a few more rounds in the ring, princess.”

“i— i can,” you protest, parting your lips away from toji’s sheeny pecs. your lips were spit-glossed, he stared at you before squatting down to stare at the mess right between your legs. so messy, sukuna lifts you off of him and it just pours right down between your thighs. “i can go for more.”

toji hums, taking a quick three-second glance at his watch. “five fuckin’ minutes, ‘s all you’ll get with . . me,” and it’s cute because a mere pink forms on his face.

he’s still embarrassed from you sucking on his nipples that he tries to act all tough—but that only makes his tone quaver even more. “match’s gonna start soon. sukuna, let’s take her both.”

he snickers, pulling your shirt that was tucked underneath your blazer all the way up.

“both?” and sukuna lifts you to sit on top of toji, straddling him. you were being preparing to be overly stuffed with not one but two cocks. you fall face forward into toji’s broad chest, the coldness of his chain that wraps around his neck brushes against your skin before he helps you align yourself.

you moan, feeling sukuna get behind too—you gulp, toji’s fondling your breasts that almost poke out through your unbuttoned shirt whilst sukuna was behind. you’d be taking them both— one in each hole. “can you handle us both at the same time, pretty girl? toji’s known for his record of lasting a good ah . . . two solid rounds.”

toji glares, feeling himself start to open you up again. with his plump crownhead of his cock, he splits you open, and he is a tad thicker than sukuna—you moan, wrapping flimsy arms around him before sukuna enters from behind with toji focusing on the front. “shut up. you say that ‘n act like i won’t k.o. you right now.”

“oh yeah?” sukuna cavils, and you gasp, landing on the cold canvas with an 'oof' once the boxer lightly places you down. you pout—glancing up at the two of them who were having a face off at a time like this. sukuna already pulled out and they stared each other down before toji slyly smiles. “is that a fact?” and for a brief moment, he leers down at toji’s sheeny lips— the dark-haired boxer slides his tongue against his scar before humming.

“don’t play, you know it is,” he replies, giving you one ogle before turning back towards his rival. “y’know, ‘kuna. you sure talk a lot of shit but you couldn’t even pin me down if you tried.”

sukuna rasps lowly, inching closer before they were inches apart—you thought they were gonna kiss at this rate. oh, something like this would be such a good inspiration for the headlines.

“if you wanted my attention, should have said so,” sukuna sneers, rubbing his hand that was carefully wrapped up in a white bandage against his slim torso. “besides, i think we all know who can last more rounds.”

“did you two just forget about me—?” you furrow your eyebrows, literally still soaked and laid against the corner of the ring. they shoot you a glance before turning back towards each other.

toji scoffs back at sukuna, ignoring you. “prove it then. pin me the fuck down, hot shot.”

“bend the fuck over then, big guy. we’ll show the pretty journalist who’s gonna win this night’s match. round fuckin’ one.”

#★vegasbaby. #toji x reader #toji smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #toji fushiguro smut #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna ryomen x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #jjk drabbles #cw sex mention #cw breeding

[littlemisshyperfixation]

Jungkook Fic Recommendations

a - angst f - fluff s - smut

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Series

Home (f s a)

One Shots

forget me not (a f) ⊹₊⋆ The one where everytime you get dumped you pretend that you never met the guy before to mess with their heads. To the point that if you run into them somewhere you reintroduce yourself and act like you’ve never seen each other before. Enters fuckboy Jungkook who disappears after your night together, not knowing how much he was about to regret that choice.

champagne confetti (a s) ⊹₊⋆ You, a determined fashion designer, find yourself entangled in a collaboration with the irresistibly charming and egotistic heartthrob, Jeon Jungkook. Will this partnership remain strictly professional, or will he make the lines blur?

bottle up old love (a s f) ⊹₊⋆ Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

cabin fever (f s a) ⊹₊⋆ trapped in a cabin with your ex-best friend jungkook, you’re forced to overcome the fallout between you two. 

romantic dreams (s a) ⊹₊⋆ he’s always dreamt of finding his soulmate in some romantic way, bells ringing, birds chirping, maybe even a shine of light over their head. he never imagined to find them living next door to him with absolutely no clue to the extent of the growing infatuation he has toward you until it’s a little too late. hypnotized by your entire existence he finds his dreams and delusions of love to be a little too intense for anyone to bear.

Guilty Pleasures (a s) ⊹₊⋆ Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

Better Boyfriend Than Him (a s) ⊹₊⋆ jungkook makes it a mission to prove to you that he can be better than your boring boyfriend. when it comes to sex, at least.

strictly platonic (f a s) ⊹₊⋆ Sometimes, Jungkook can be a little selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you would go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.

#bts #bts x reader #bts fic recs #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic recs #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook

[nereidprinc3ss]

strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf. 

Stupid scarf, you think. 

Stupid door. 

Stupid wind. 

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient. 

You look at the stack of papers and sigh. 

Stupid Lord Byron. 

Stupid cafe. 

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly. 

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable. 

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust. 

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance. 

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once. 

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café. 

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk. 

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor. 

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here. 

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up. 

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you. 

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that. 

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing. 

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out. 

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles. 

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go. 

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone. 

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot. 

“How did you do that?” 

His cheeks turn slightly pink. 

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack. 

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently. 

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble. 

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look. 

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels. 

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second. 

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself. 

He was totally in love with me. 

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again. 

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while. 

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it. 

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café. 

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup. 

“Hi,” he says. 

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout. 

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer. 

Spencer. Spencer. 

It feels important. 

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away. 

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you. 

Spence. 

Reality sets in. 

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk. 

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away. 

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way. 

“Who was that?” 

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in. 

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up. 

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality. 

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character. 

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination. 

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression. 

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

 Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading. 

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more. 

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table. 

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin. 

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real. 

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed. 

Adorable? Get a grip. 

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges. 

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley. 

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents. 

So that’s cool. 

You’re cool with that. 

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer. 

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers. 

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet. 

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again. 

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it. 

Nah. Boys are dumb. 

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it. 

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone. 

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line. 

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it. 

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second. 

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless. 

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long. 

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh. 

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard. 

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid. 

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice. 

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again. 

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible. 

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air. 

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company. 

But his job is important. 

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.   

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present. 

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer. 

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits. 

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly. 

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm. 

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now. 

“I would.” 

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted. 

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair. 

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles. 

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way. 

He says none of that. 

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards. 

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real. 

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair. 

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute. 

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper. 

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird. 

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go. 

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

2: UNWELCOME DISTANCE

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Dinner with Bucky didn't go as well as you planned and now you're suffering from the outcome of being ditched in an autumn thunderstorm.

Word count: 3.2k

Warning: feelings of betrayal, shitty communications skills, illness (upper respiratory tract infection) description, Coney Island and cotton candy, jealousy, Bucky... Barnes is a warning

The following morning, you woke up feeling a little worse for wear. You buried your face in your pillow willing the tickle in your throat and at the back of your nose to disappear. A small groan left your lips as your attempt to sleep in was thwarted by the aching throughout your body. Sitting up did little to make you feel better, other than shifting the balance of mucus in your sinuses, making you sneeze and worsening the scratchiness of your throat. You looked up at the clock, you’d missed the breakfast time that you were expected to attend, but there weren’t any messages on your phone expressing concern from your friends.

A throb of self pity and doubt flashed through your mind. Did any of them even care? You had lost Bucky to another woman, but clearly none of your other friends had noticed your absence. You weren’t special, you’d only been invited to join the Avengers Initiative because of your powers. The thoughts were just forming, your mind ready to spiral into a storm of insecurity, when there was a knock at your door. Each movement felt like wading through molasses, and even sitting up seemed like an insurmountable task.

"Cricket?" Steve’s voice permeated into the room.

"Coming!" At least that was what you tried to say, your voice coming out as a small croak. You padded over to the door barefoot and opened the door to find Steve’s kind face looking down at you.

His concern was etched across his features as he took in your disheveled appearance. Dark circles clung to your eyes, and your skin had lost its usual healthy hue.

"Hey there, sunshine," he greeted, his voice gentle. "How’re you feeling?"

There was only one word that would succinctly sum up your emotional and physical state in that moment. "Shit," you mumbled, sniffing at the fluid that was threatening to leak from your nose.

He reached out, his hand cool against your feverish skin. His touch was comforting, grounding you in the midst of your misery. "You definitely have a fever," he confirmed.

As if to affirm his observation, your body pitched forwards in a violent sneeze, which you barely had the time to catch with the inside of your elbow. You ended the outburst with a pained groan, as the back of your throat burned.

Steve’s concern deepened. "You need rest," he said firmly, steering you back into bed. "I’ll make you some tea."

You followed his instructions without protest, not having the energy to argue. It would be best for you to stay in bed, you’d get better quicker with rest, and it was a great excuse to avoid seeing your best friend and his girlfriend. The practical side of you would use the excuse that you didn’t want to expose anyone to your germs. At least Steve would be protected by the serum, so you didn’t need to worry about him hanging around. So with a clear conscience, you snuggled back under your covers to wait for Steve’s return.

As he disappeared towards the kitchen, you sank back into your pillows. Maybe losing Bucky wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe having a friend like Steve was enough—a warm presence in the midst of your feverish chaos. And as the wind whistled outside, you realized that sometimes, friendship was the best medicine of all.

Little did you know that on his way to the kitchen, Steve ran into Bucky as he was leaving your room.

"Steve?" Bucky called after his friend.

"Hey, Buck."

"What’re you doing?" The real question he wanted to ask was ‘why are you leaving Cricket’s room?’.

"Just grabbing some things for Cricket. She isn’t feeling very well."

"What?" Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed with concern. "She was fine yesterday!"

"Well if you hadn’t left her alone to get drenched in that storm, she probably wouldn’t be so miserable." Steve hadn’t meant to be so harsh with his words, but you had interrupted his beauty sleep the previous night and he was feeling rather disgruntled.

"What’re you trying to say, Steve?

"You shouldn’t have left it so long to tell her." Steve was referring to Priya and how long he'd kept his relationship with her private.

"That’s my decision, Steve." Bucky countered, defensively.

"I know. But maybe you should think about why you were so ready to tell me, but not Cricket."

Bucky clicked his tongue against the roof of mouth, dismissing Steve's comments. "I'm gonna go and see her."

Steve thought about objecting, but decided against it, opting to fetch the things he had promised you.

Bucky’s footsteps echoed down the narrow hallway, each one a heavy reminder of his own recklessness. The storm had raged outside, rain pelting against the window panes like a thousand tiny fists. But he hadn’t been there to shield you from it. Instead, he’d left you alone, vulnerable, and now guilt gnawed at him like a persistent rat.

Your room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn shut against the gray morning. Bucky hesitated at the threshold, his knuckles grazing the wooden doorframe. He’d never been good with words, especially when it came to matters of the heart. But he had to try.

"Cricket?" His voice was soft, almost tentative. He stepped inside, the floorboards creaking under his weight. There you were, cocooned in blankets, your face pale against the pillows. The storm had taken its toll on you, and he cursed himself for not being there.

You stirred, eyelashes fluttering open. "Bucky?" Your voice was a whisper, fragile like a spider’s silk. "What’re you doing here?"

He crossed the room in two strides, perching on the edge of your bed. "I… I heard you weren’t feeling well." His fingers brushed against your forehead, checking for fever. "Steve told me."

You managed a weak smile. "Steve’s a tattletale."

"He cares about you," Bucky said gruffly. "We both do."

"I feel bad for dragging him out of bed last night."

"Cricket, why didn't you tell me you didn't have any way to get back home. I would have brought a car instead of my bike."

You shrugged, “I didn’t think I had to.”

He had been so caught up in his plans to introduce you to Priya that he hadn’t even considered the possibility that you might need a ride home. He had assumed you would find your own way, and he was just starting to realize how selfish that had been. He should have been more attentive, more caring. He laid a hand on your arm, “I’m sorry, Cricket. I should have been more thoughtful. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

“Cricket, please, let me make it up to you. I was looking for you this morning. I made your favorite pancakes," Bucky continued. "Thought you could come and have breakfast with me and Priya, before I take her home."

"Sorry," you shrugged, hating this conversation more and more. Why was Steve taking so long to return?

"I was going to spend the day with her, but if you want, I can come back and we can watch some movies."

"Don't cancel your plans on my account." You rolled over, facing away from Bucky.

Your behavior stung, but he couldn't blame you for being angry. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. "I’m sorry," he whispered. "For leaving you out there."

"See you later," you mumbled and Bucky knew he had been dismissed. 

Bucky couldn't shake the guilt that weighed heavily on his chest as he walked away. He had always been a good friend, someone who looked out for others and made sure they were taken care of. But in his excitement to introduce you to Priya, he had neglected to consider your needs.

As he walked away, Bucky couldn't stop replaying the conversation in his head. He had let you down, and he wanted to make things right.

Steve appeared a few moments after his departure, his arms laden with homely remedies and a bowl of soup which smelled incredible. Your stomach rumbled hungrily in response, making you blush.

"Here, take this first," Steve shoved a bottle of DayQuil under your nose.

Begrudgingly, you accepted the painkiller gratefully and then proceeded to slurp up the soup. "This is delicious," you hummed in approval.

"Hey, when you're feeling a bit better, I was thinking I could take you out somewhere… cheer you up a little." Steve stuttered towards the end as he saw surprise on your face. 

You swallowed your mouthful of soup before cracking a smile. “Steve, I'd like that.”

Steve smiled back at you. But suddenly, he reached out, grabbing the bowI in your hands, having noticed the slight hitch in your breath. A sneeze rocked your body forcefully and you groaned.

“Thanks,” you accepted the bowl back from Steve.

"No problem. Don't want to make a mess."

“No,” you sighed, finishing the soup in a sad silence.

“Want me to stay?”

“No, it's okay. I'm just going to go back to sleep.”

Steve took the empty dishes and kissed your forehead, glad that it didn't feel as warm as it had earlier. “Feel better, champ.”

You sure hoped you would.

*

A few days later, you were back in fighting form. But much to Bucky's chagrin, he could never seem to catch your attention for more than a passing nod or wave. He wanted to make things right with you. He missed you, he wasn’t used to being so close to you but not being able to talk to you properly. He had the sneaking suspicion that your distance might not just be ill-timed schedules. Were you avoiding him? He wondered if you were still angry at him for not giving you a ride back home after your dinner with Priya. A feeling of melancholy settled over him as he speculated on all the things he could have done that made you take a step away from him. Every reason under the sun spiraled through Bucky’s mind except the real reason for your withdrawal.

Bucky had hoped that meeting someone else, someone who was interested in him would help him push away the feelings he had for you. Closure. That’s what they called it in the movies these days. But this didn’t seem like it was going quite the way he had anticipated. In fact, rather than feeling happier, he felt more tortured than he had before. Maybe going out with Priya would take his mind off things, so he decided to give her a call and schedule a date, she had a way of soothing his turbulent thoughts. Not as well as you did, no one understood him quite like you did.

*

Steve was true to his word, and had whipped up a surprise plan for the two of you to spend the day together. He had chosen a Wednesday, explaining that it was a good time as the place would be less busy. He made sure you had dressed warmly, in spite of the sunny weather. 

"Don’t want you getting ill again," he smiled as you got into the car with him.

"Is that why we’re not taking the bike?"

Steve shook his head, knowing how much you loved riding motorcycles.

"So where are you taking me?" you asked. You’d been trying to get Steve to tell you for the last few days, but the tight lipped Captain had resisted all your wily techniques at information extraction.

"Coney Island."

"Ohh!" you exclaimed. "I haven’t been there for years!" You laughed before a thought popped into your head, a memory. "Are you sure you want to go there, Steve?"

"Why wouldn’t I want to go to Coney Island?"

"Well, I heard about… the… Cyclone Incident."

Steve blushed. "Bucky telling everyone that story, huh?"

"Afraid so." Your smile was soured slightly by the shadow casted by Bucky’s name and you turned to stare out of the window, letting Steve drive in silence.

Steve shook his head. He wanted nothing more than for both his best friends to be happy, and for the two of you to be happy together was the ultimate goal. He hoped that one day both of you would come to your senses, but until then, he would do his best to support you both.

The weather turned out to be fine and you had shed your top layer before even leaving the car.

"Oh come on! Stop being such a dad! We can always come back to the car if it gets chilly!" you responded to Steve’s disapproval.

"Come on then!"

It was a beautiful day filled with laughter and joy between you and Steve. He was glued to your side, treating you to all the rides, indulging you when you wanted to ride the Cyclone repeatedly. Every time you got to the end of the ride, you’d turn to him and make sure he wouldn’t spill his guts. Steve rolled his eyes dramatically as you laughed hysterically.

"What next?" Steve asked. "And don’t tell me we’re doing that again."

"Come on, the girl letting people in definitely has a crush on you! Why do you think we got on for free the last two times?"

Steve grabbed your wrist, "Come on!" He led you away from the rides, over to a cotton candy kiosk, dropping a few notes into the vendor's hand and selecting two cones. You took the liberty of grabbing the blue one from his hand and tucking into it before he had the chance to object.

"Bet I can eat this faster than you can!" Steve suggested slyly.

"Oh, bring it, Rogers!" You tore the stick out of the candy cloud and scrunched it up into a tiny ball, sticking it in your mouth and letting the sugar dissolve on its own.

Steve, who had taken several large bites, looked up in confusion and awe. He eyed your empty hands, then put his finger on your bottom lip, pushing it down and peering into your mouth. 

You indulged his disbelief, opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue. "See, all gone! I win!" you smile with glee.

"Wow!"

"You forget, I was the youngest of five! I had to learn to eat fast or I’d lose out." 

Steve chortled quietly at your story. "Fine, what do you want as your prize?" He waved around at all the game stalls, letting you pick your prize.

You gazed around, contemplating your options when you spotted a giant stuffed wolf. "That one!"

Steve was true to his word and threw every bean bag with perfect aim and you pointed at a white plushie which looked a little different to the others. 

"Why don’t you take this one?" the vendor tried to shove a dark gray wolf into your arms, but you declined.

"No thank you, I’d like that one please." You selected one which had been stuffed on a high shelf, away from the others of its kind.

"Honey, this one’s going in the garbage, look at him, white body with one gray leg. It’s a defective product, they made a mistake in the factory. Happens from time to time."

But you were adamant, you wanted the white wolf with the transplanted leg.

"Whatever you want, miss." The vendor handed you the soft toy, which you hugged to your chest. There was something about him that you wanted to keep safe.

Unbeknownst to you, you had been spotted by someone unexpected. Bucky had had a similar thought to Steve, he had brought Priya to the ‘island’ on a quiet weekday for some harmless fun.

"Jamie, look!" Priya tugged at his sleeve. "Isn't that Cricket and Steve?"

Bucky's head whipped around so fast, he almost had empathy for whiplash sufferers. He frowned, eye searching the crowd in the direction of Priya’s outstretched hand. He couldn't believe that you would come here with Steve. He had often suggested a trip to Coney Island to you, but you'd never managed to make the time for it. So seeing you here with Steve made his insides burn with jealousy. Another part of him, his guilt-ridden conscience told him that he didn't deserve you. Naturally, you'd choose the classical hero, Steve. He was the golden boy, even when they'd been kids, Steve was the trouble maker, but somehow Bucky was the one his parents mistrusted. 

"Yeah," he grumbled.

"Let's go over and say hi!"

"I'm sure they don't want us to interrupt them." Bucky vetoed the suggestion with a sulky expression.

"Fair, I mean I wouldn't want anyone interrupting our date either." Priya smiled, taking Bucky's hand, leading him away. Bucky stole one last glance at his two best friends, a deep ache settling inside him as Priya dragged him away from you. 

*

Over the next week, you and Bucky drifted through the compound, both longing for the other but not quite able to find it within yourselves to seek the other out. For you, it was a simple matter of avoidance. You'd made the mistake of touching the flame and now you suffered the burn. But for Bucky it was different. He couldn't understand your absence and he knew nothing of your pain.

He could feel the frustration building up inside him, until one day he caught you returning to your room. And every one of his thoughts and accusations came pouring out.

"What is it? Why’re you upset with me?" Bucky demanded.

"I’m not upset… it’s not- I’m hurt. You hurt me. It’s not that you did something wrong. In fact you haven’t done anything wrong. It’s just that I thought you’d share something big, like dating, with me. But you kept it secret. For four months! I thought we told each other everything. I … I just expected-" you shrugged. "And that’s the problem here. My expectations were wrong, and I’m ashamed. But you didn’t do anything wrong. You have nothing to apologize for. But somehow I feel like I’m going to lose you."

"You’ll never lose me, Cricket."

"But Buck, I already have. Like she said… she’s your best friend now." Bucky opened his mouth to interrupt, but you put your hand out to stop him talking. "I just need some time to deal with that. Is that okay?"

"I didn’t mean to hurt you," he mumbled. The sincerity evident in his tone and face.

"I know, Buck," you sighed. "I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty. Please, I want you to be happy. I’m happy for you."

"Please, let me make this up to you." Bucky grabbed your wrist, desperately.

"You can do that by making sure you take care of yourself. I’m always going to be with you, on missions and stuff, partner," you patted his upper arm. "I just think that our friendship’s going to change a little… and I just need some time to get used to that."

"Is this because of Steve?"

"Steve?" you repeated after him, feeling confused by the change in topic. "What does Steve have to do with this?"

"Are you together?"

"What? No! Bucky, why would you think that?"

"I just…" He shrugged, not quite able to bring up seeing you at Coney Island, or the moment of closeness you had had with Steve the night he had introduced you to Priya.

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Tag list: @samodivaa @scoonsalicious @literaryavenger @noonespecial90 @browneyedgrli @vicmc624 @cjand10 @capswife @julvrs @ordelixx @sashaisready @sebastians-love @thealloveru2 @belleofthebooks

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fiction

[loganshouseofworship]

Can you do something with Logan that is super angsty? Maybe you two get in a fight over his career and your career? Then both of you realize that you can live without each other and end up getting back together.

Thank you!!

I can’t live without you — Logan Sargent x reader

“I can’t do this anymore Logan,” you said, cramming your clothes into your suitcase.

“Do what? What’s going on?” Logan asked

“Stand by and watch as Williams destroys your career” you said.

“Williams isn’t destroying my career, what are you talking about?” Logan says slightly, raising his voice.

“Yea they are Logan but you're so blinded by your loyalty to the team you can’t see it” you yelled through the tears.

“Wait a minute, you can’t leave!”

“Yes, I can” you said, your voice steady but tears were flowing down your face. “I can’t do this anymore”

“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore!” Logan yelled as you went to slam the door shut, but Logan grabbed the door and stopped it.

“That team is destroying you Logan, it's taking its toll on your mental health. you can’t keep putting yourself through this” you said, as you put a hand on Logan’s arm.

“Williams doesn’t care about you. They used your signing as a PR move to bring in more American formula one fans and you're too blind to see that” you tell him.

“Don’t say that! Williams cares about me! They brought me in, they believed in me!”

“That’s just what they want you to believe. They’re using you…I don't know why I'm wasting my breath. I know you're going to stay. I don't know what I was thinking. I mean you left a team that loved you and cared about you, and now you're throwing it away for a team that's going to drag you through the mud.”

“Stop. Stop saying those things.” Logan said harshly. “I’m not throwing anything away. My loyalty to Williams is what’s been pushing me to do my best and not make a mistake.”

“Keep telling yourself that Logan” you say finally leaving the hotel room.

“No, wait!” Logan yelled into the hallway as you shut the door. You kept walking and didn’t turn around.

“Damnit!” Logan yelled.

“She’ll come back, she’ll come to see that it’s all going to be okay.” Logan muttered to himself.

Hours later, Logan was sitting in front of his laptop in the dark looking at old pictures of them together.

A photo of you two, looking happy came into view.

“Maybe loyalty isn’t the most important thing?” He whispered to himself.

A few weeks have gone by since the Australian Grand Prix since the night you left Logan alone in the hotel room. Logan’s home race was coming up and he wasn’t going to lie he was nervous as all get out.

Logan missed you and he realized that you were right about the team. They didn’t care about him, not like you had. Fans started noticing that Logan was looking more tired and exhausted than before the bags under his had darkened. They looked so dark that it looked like he had black eyes.

Logan’s eyes were red from lack of sleep, from stress, from working nonstop to show the team what he was made of. He looked so worn out, and it was breaking your heart. You knew that he was pushing himself too hard, and it was beginning to take a toll on his mental health, and you just wanted to be there to support him.

The race weekend was approaching, and he was still working late into the night, trying to perfect his setup. Logan’s exhaustion was beginning to show, he looked like a shell of himself. He had lost weight, and his eyes were dark and sunken. The fan base was starting to get worried about him.

You weren’t doing much better yourself. You were worried sick about him, every day. You’d lost weight, you could barely sleep because all you did was worry and think about him.

Your friends tried to comfort you, but you weren’t listening to anyone, you were focused on one thing, on getting him back.

You would spend all night and day looking for flight deals online, trying to find a way to get home and see him again. But every time you looked, they were all sold out. It felt like the universe was against you, but really it just wanted you to wait a little bit longer, to wait until the right time to reunite you.

You would constantly check the calendar, seeing how many days there were left before you could get on a flight and see him again.

Time was passing so slowly, and it felt like it was never going to end. But then finally, the day came when your flight was confirmed, and you were on your way back.

You were just hours away from seeing him again, but the feeling of relief and anxiety were equally strong. You knew you wanted to see him, but at the same time, a part of you was scared of what he would say, or that he might have moved on.

You landed in the US, and you could barely contain your emotions, you were nervous and excited, and a million other things at the same time, as you got to your car. You just wanted to get to the hotel and see him as soon as possible, but at the end of the day, you also wanted to get it right, to do this the right way.

Your stomach was in knots as you pulled into the hotel, and you felt your heart racing. You couldn't believe you were actually doing this, you couldn't believe you were actually back in the US.

You took a deep breath, and walked through the doors into the hotel, up to his room.

You stopped in front of the room, taking a moment to collect yourself before knocking on the door.

After what felt like an eternity, he opened the door. Logan’s face had gone pale, and the stress and exhaustion that had been weighing on him disappeared.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, his mouth was dry, and he could barely get the words out.

“I had to see you, I had to come back” you replied, trying to get the words out.

He opened the door wider, inviting you in, you slowly walked past him, and he could feel the tension in the air.

“I’ve missed you” Logan whispered, his heart began to beat faster and faster, he was overcome with emotion, and he pulled you into a tight embrace.

“I’ve missed you too” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck, and burying your head into his chest.

He pulls you even closer to him, not letting you go.

The air felt thick between the two of you, neither wanted to break the embrace, neither wanted to talk, neither wanted anything more than to feel close to each other again.

Finally, after a long moment, he broke the embrace and stepped back, wiping his eyes, he had almost cried right then and there.

“I’m-I’m so sorry” he said, unable to stop the words from pouring out.

“For what? “ You asked, you had no idea what he was apologizing for. All you knew was that you wanted to be in his arms again.

“I know I’ve been distant recently, and I haven’t been there for you” he said, taking your hands in his. He stared into your eyes, as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your face.

“I just…” he began, but choked up, unable to find the right words. His lips trembled, his face twisted in regret and guilt.

“Just what?” You asked gently, trying to understand what was going on.

“You were right, my loyalty to the team has taken everything from me”. He said, his voice cracking as he fought back the tears.

“What do you mean?” You asked, he was starting to not make sense, was he just tired, it must be that, because you had no idea where this was coming from.

“You were right about the team, you said that they didn’t care about me, that they were using me as a PR move. And I tried to deny it, I tried to deny everything you said, but it’s all true…”

“I’ve pushed myself to the point of mental exhaustion, and all for what, I’ve been so blind thinking that I needed to do this, but the truth is I don’t, I don’t need Williams, I need you…” He said, staring back at you.

“Do you need me?” You said, his words caught you off guard. The reality was hitting you, he needed you, he didn’t need the team. He needed you.

“Without you, I’m lost” he said finally, admitting it out loud, he took a deep breath. “I’ve been so worried about losing Williams, and I should have been worried about losing you.”

“I need you Logan , I've missed you so much” you said, tears now spilling down your face.

“I’ve missed you too” he said, wrapping his arms around you once again. You could feel the tension in the air subside, and the stress that had been weighing on you both disappeared. It felt almost as if you’d never been apart.

His grip tightened around you, not wanting to let you go, like he needed to hold you just a little bit longer. You could feel him taking deep breaths and his heartbeat steady. It was like he needed the two of you to be as close as possible for a minute, as if he needed to make up for lost time.

“I’m never letting you leave again” he said softly, tightening his grip once again. You could feel his heart rate settle, and you could feel the tension ease even greater. It felt like home.

@a-casual-romantic @amatswimming @bblouifford @bbtoni @jinx53 @jeffs77 @toasttt11 @hrts4scarr @faithshouseofchaos @vellicora

#logan sargeant #williams racing #formula 1 #formula one #logan sargent fluff #logan sargeant fluff #logan sargent x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant x reader #logan sargent #logan sargeant x you #logie bear #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #formula one fluff #formula one x reader #formula one oneshot #formula one angst #f1 x y/n #williams f1 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x female driver #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc #formula one imagine

[gojoath]

ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ ARE YOU STILL WATCHING? OKKOTSU YŪTA

your boyfriend, yūta, doesn’t ever like sharing what’s his. apparently that statement goes for your fictional crushes too.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. aged up characters. jealousy -> over fictional characters. fem oral receiving. yuta gets jealous over your fictional crushes. possessiveness. toxic relationships. wc, 3.2k.

note. another repost (did not realise how much i wrote for this)

yuuta loves your nights spent together. the ones where it’s just the both of you— as it should be, wrapped in each others embrace, pressed into his side for movie marathons and new episodes of your favourite tv show just moments after they’ve aired.

it’s like nights of proof, evidence that he’s all you’ll ever need because he’s never seen you laugh or smile like you do when you’re with him. he hopes you’ll eventually be able to see that this is the happiest you’ll ever be, the type of joy of being with him. wrapped in his love.

it’s a night quite like this one, yuuta gives you a sweet smile as he pushes through the living room door— greeted with your soft figure on the sofa, already flicking through the netflix homescreen and the sofa dips under his weight when he sits beside you.

hes watching you so intently, his still gaze cutting through your features and the feeling urges you to turn to meet him just as you decide on your entertainment for the night with a giddy smile.

“hi, yuu-“ you grin as your boyfriend yuuta presses into you, laughing into the kiss he smears against your lips and he thinks you feel so warm under his touch. his hands are cold against your skin but you don’t run or shy away from it when he squeezes at your waist, your lips moving seamlessly against his until he’s letting his eyes peer towards the tv softly to see what you’ve chosen.

only then does he pull away from you, with a soft frown on his pretty features but his hands still hold you before he’s turning to sigh.

“but baby, i thought it was our night.” the show on the tv isn’t yuuta’s usual choice for your nights alone. he much preferred the romcons or chick-flicks that you normally chose — the ones that gave him the opportunities to inch closer, to squeeze into you during confession scenes or steal a kiss alongside your on-screen idols.

“but yuuta, please— they just released a movie, you know how much i love the series.” you’re looking up at him with a slight glow to your gaze, deliberately tracing your hands across his shoulders — pushing them through his hair like a silent little plea. “and you know who is in it.” you continue, but your words make your boyfriend stiffen this time — something harsher to his gaze because he knows exactly who you mean when you’re biting on your lower lip to hide your smile. his smile, the one that’s reserved for him. it’s supposed to be his.

you know who, being your favourite character from your favourite show. you’ve never openly admitted him to be your on-screen crush but yuuta knows better than anyone that he definitely is. he can always see the way you fidget whenever he’s on screen, doing something heroic and oh so insufferable— he doesn’t see the appeal. he doesn’t know why you do either when you have him by your side. he’s been made deliberately handsome, to play into naive, sweet girls like you’s fantasies but you don’t need someone like that. isn’t he already enough for you?

maybe it’s the thought of being saved by a hero but your boyfriend could do that for you too. he could be your hero — it wouldn’t be hard to draw you into an alleyway with a cursed spirit or maybe two, he’d jump at the opportunity to save you — to reveal himself in all of his glory.

although yuuta promised he would never let anything bad happen to you, it would all be part of his carefully curated plan to have you pliant and scared. you’d never be in any real danger — just enough to be begging for your true hero. you’d cry for him, right? not for anything else?

but despite all of that and because he loves you, he can never say no to you. not when you’re blinking up at him deliberately sweet and starry eyed, tracing shapes into his sensitive skin until the tips of his ears are red and his answer is pushed between the next press of your lips against his. “o-okay, we can watch it.” because he wants, needs to make you happy.

“really? you’re the best!” the smile and praise yuuta’s answer earns from you is so warming and he’s convinced himself it’s because of him, and not because hes letting you watch the movie for your favourite character instead. it’s because you love him, that’s it.

so he lets you kick your feet cutely as you get yourself comfortable beside him, letting him pull you tight into his side like hes staking a claim against the pixels on the tv — like some territorial show of a wild animal claiming it’s mate as his dull gaze focuses on the tv infront of you.

but it doesn’t take long before he’s irritable and fidgeting. two minutes into the opening credits and his eyes are on you because he can almost feel the way you’re beaming at the screen— catching the first glimpse of you know whoand already yuuta wants to kill him. what would it take for him to prove he wasn’t all that you imagine him to be?

would you want to watch your boyfriend tear him apart in the name of love?

but instead of that, he finds another means of bringing you back to him. he lets the cool trace of his fingertips press beneath your shirt as you shudder into him. your eyes are still on the screen but your body leans closer, like an instinct of sorts that feels like it burns him.

another breath and yuuta leans down into you, pressing his lips beneath your ear then across your jawline and he can feel the way your body seems to rise in temperature with every kiss. you’re not pushing him away yet but you’re not looking at him either, so he continues — tracing messy, twisted hearts into your skin between suckled kisses, until his lips are leaving sensitive little marks down your neck and you’re panting against him softly.

“yuuta, the movie.” is all you finally manage but he doesn’t care, couldn’t care because you’re his and he needs to prove it, as silly and twisted as it may seem. he needs to, and you let him.

“sorry, i— i just need you. i cant help it.” theres a strain to yuuta’s voice as he answers you but he feels you shudder when he’s pushing himself onto the floor between your thighs— leaning up to continue his onslaught of kisses before he’s trailing lower gradually, painfully slow until you’re finally looking at him.

he can still hear the effects of the movie in the background but your attention is on him and he feels something burn in his heart at that. that you chose him over everyone else, he knew you’d never abandon or betray him. you really dolove him like you say.

yuuta’s teeth nip at your collarbones before he’s tugging at your shorts to pull them down then your thighs after, letting you lie back more on the sofa as he presses himself beneath them. he pushes them apart to spread you almost too quickly with his next breath as his eyes break from yours only to take you in.

you’re left in only your shirt and panties, so exposed and pretty as they cling to the warmth of your intimate skin and it makes the coiling pleasure in yuuta’s gut tighten delightfully as he admires you.

“yuuta,” your lips part to moan and it makes him shudder before he’s covering it with a sweet smile and his hands are on you.

it happens so fast when you feel yuuta push your panties to the side messily and the first swipe of his finger between your folds is purposeful, but rushed. it’s like he’s desperate to feel you beneath him, warm and wet as he drags the rough pad of his finger beneath the hood of your clit to roll the sensitive bud. you twitch, cutely, grabbing onto the fabric of the sofa cushions beneath you as the press of his touch makes you whimper softly.

“you sound pretty.“ he hums before he’s deliberately pressing down onto your puffy clit harder, hungrily, like he’s trying to force more of those sweet sounds out of you, only for him, as he spreads you even wider. he keeps up the same pace and pressure until you’re wet enough for him to push two fingers inside, almost whining when he’s not met with much resistance.

yuuta’s fingers are long, long enough for you to hiss at the stretch but your walls still squeeze and mould around them so effortlessly as you take him in. it makes something blissful flutter in his tummy when your head rolls back at the pleasure. so he shifts one of your thighs over his shoulder as he keeps you spread, ready and accessible for him while he gazes up at you from under long lashes and leans into press his first soft kiss between your folds.

but what your boyfriend doesn’t expect to see with his next blink is your eyes on the tv, even if only for a moment— it’s a moment you’re not even looking at him despite the way he’s pushing his fingers into your cunt. he wonders if you’re imagining your tv crush to be the one between your thighs right now, pressing into the spots inside of you that make your walls squeeze and quiver. he hates this, he hates him. do you always think about him instead of your boyfriend?

“baby?” you hum like you’re aknowledging the call but your eyes are still on the screen over his shoulder despite the way your ever loving boyfriend is between your thighs. his tongue is on your clit, tracing it in messy circles and all you can give him in return is a soft pant — why arent you looking at him when he’s treating you so well? why are your eyes still on someone else instead.

“baby.” he calls again but it’s accompanied by a deliberately deep press of his fingers into your walls as he pushes himself up, pulling his mouth away from you and deliberately kneeling infront of the tv until you’re forced to meet his dark gaze. but the depth of frost it seems to hold almost makes you shudder beneath it. it’s lacking it’s usual dull glow despite the way his fingers still press hot between your folds.

“do you want me to stop?” yuuta hums, voice soft despite the way he’s looking at you, holding your gaze like he’s asking you to beg for your life instead of the simple, easily answered question that rings true.

“n-no,”

“then why won’t you look at me?” he’s not unaware of the way the drop in his tone makes you squeeze around his fingers, the obedience earns you another languid press of the digits into you — so deep you can feel the cold touch of the promise ring on his ring finger. the one you wear too. you remember the promise you both made, don’t you? “i thought you liked this.”

“i do, yuu.. please, it’s so good.” your voice takes a higher pitch than normal as yuuta pulls his fingers back out of you, almost teasing you with the reminder he could pull away entirely as you give him a teary eyed blink.

“but you’re not looking at me. you’re watching him,” his gaze deepens, lidded and sleepy when he leans closer to you — ghosting his lips against yours until you’re pressing back into the cushions and your lungs squeeze on your next breath. if it wasn’t for the way your pussy was trying so desperately to pull him back in, he’d think you were scared.

“no, no it just distracted me. i love it,” your toes curl from where they’re resting in the air but your answer pleases yuuta enough to draw himself back again before he’s back between your thighs. his gaze remains though, watching you so intently — you wouldn’t look away again, would you? another saccharine press of his fingers into your walls and he scissors them, making you moan before he’s asking his next question.

“what else? what else do you love?” his warm breath rolls over your slick folds, his dark eyes wavering from yours slightly to shine on where his digits sink into you.

“i love you, yuu— just please, keep going,” the love confession is enough for him, for now and your gaze stays true on his own as his head lowers and his tongue curls against your clit before he’s dragging it back up.

yuuta feels sticky at the words still and he groans, angling his fingers inside of you up with twisted purpose, like he’s showing off how well he can work you — play with your body infront of the screen like he’s making your favourite actor watch. “then watch me.” he brushes them against the spongy spot inside of you, his request murmured between your folds until your hands are in his hair to pull him deeper. “please,”

it’s languid, filthy the way he pumps his fingers in and out of your wet heat, complimenting it with kitten licks because he knows exactly how to pull the pleasure out of you, the pleasure he owns. the sound effects from the movie are doing little to cover up the lewd squelching sounds accompanied with his slurps and smacks as his eyes lift to touch yours again.

“he can’t touch you like this, baby” yuuta continues to sink his fingers into you as he speaks, swirling tantalising circles into your clit with his tongue while his fingers drag more slick out, making a sloppy mess between your thighs as he laps it back up. it’s a little cruel the way he doesn’t give into your fantasies but why should he when you’re his, so he buries his face into you with a loud swallow—every noise so much messier and wetter than the last, your hands grab and curl in the dark mess of hair and he hums as he urges you to answer. “it’s only me, remember?”

“y-yes, only you.” you reply like you’re hypnotised, in some sort of hormone-drunken trance but oh he loves you like this. it’s like your pretty little head can’t even thinkabout anything else that isn’t your hopelessly devoted boyfriend with every flick of his tongue and twist of his wrist.

“what are you thinking about, hm?” it’s fucked up the way he wishes he could look into your mind, to tear you apart for your thoughts and secrets — to strip your bare and peer into your soul.

“w-what?” your hips stutter, shake beneath him but yuuta finds it too easy to hold you there — pressing more of his weight onto you as he presses your ass into the cushions, and he takes a deep inhale of your pussy with his next lewd suckle on your clit. he could get high on your scent, on your taste and your being.

“do you think about me?” but still, he continues because he needs to hear you say it. to tell him it’s only him you think about when you’re on the brink of orgasm, when it warms and licks at the base of your spine — when you’re so sickwith pleasure and want is it him that’s on your mind? tell him it’s him.

put him at ease after all hes done for you. after how he loves you.

“mhm,” you stutter as yuuta licks into your pussy with a hunger that’s so uniquely him, and you almost choke on a babbled cry of his name as you tremble. you feel him flatten his tongue against your sensitive bud before he’s sucking it gently between his lips and pulling away with an exaggerated pop that has butterflies pooling in your stomach. he’s trained you so well, mindlessly coaxing you into feeding into his obsession because you know it’ll earn you a sweet reward.

“do you want me to save you?” your pussy throbs around his digits and he breathes a warm sigh across your skin, your eyes clenching tight as your thighs quiver against the width of his shoulders and your head drops back as his dark gaze cuts up into you. you feel him drag his tongue in slow, thorough swirls over your clit as your hips rock side to side. “p-please, baby. tell me,”

“y-yes, ‘m gonna cum— save me,” you tell him and your mind feels like it filled with cotton— thick with pleasure but yuuta smile’s against your folds as he works you with practiced precision. he’s watching your hips twist under his touch and feeding on your reactions, devouring you entirely with every lav of his tongue as he breathes into you.

it only takes a few more twists over your puffy clit, accompanied by the deep graze of his fingertips against the sensitive spots inside of you until you’re cumming, so hard and good it almost makes you see white completely as your toes curl and ache. your thighs squeeze around his cheeks and it’s eager the way he buries himself even deeper into you, slurping greedily at the cream his fingers urge to push out of you and he moans at the feeling of you making a mess of his mouth and cheeks.

every whimpered whine against your folds makes you feel even better — prolonging your blissful state and yuuta fucking loves it, so he doesn’t stop until he’s full. not until you’re stuttering out his name and pushing at his head with the overstimulation that makes you burn with every drawn out flick of his tongue. his fingers ease away from the tight, saccharine squeeze of your walls.

you’re adorable as you come down from your high, all dazed and drowsy and your boyfriend admires you as he lets his cheek rest on your still quivering thigh, gazing up at you despite how heavy his cock feels against his sweats right now. your hands are in his hair still but they’ve stopped pulling at his roots, instead you’re busying yourself with brushing the dark hair back from his features as he gives you an adoring blink.

you smile, albeit a little sleepy but it warms yuuta completely at how much love he swears it holds, “yuuta, now we have to restart the movie,” you’re pouting now but you’re pretty, so pretty it earns you a kind smile from your boyfriend despite your want to still watch that same movie he just did his best to pull you away from.

“but, baby, i don’t feel like watching anymore.” his words are soft, accompanied by his fingertips trailing up the inside of your thigh to squeeze and you’re still so sensitive the touch makes you shudder. his next touch is a little higher, just short of your folds as he tests the waters and despite the lingering remnants of your orgasm— you don’t push him away, even when his finger is swiping through the sensitive petals of your pussy once more.

he really didn’t have anything to worry about, did he? you really do love him. the realisation makes him smile again before he’s twisting gently to bite at the inside of thigh— suckling at the skin to leave a mark until you jolt at the sting.

“i found something else to do that’s better for both of us. it’s our night, right? so come, give me all of you.”

© gojoath. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

#cw yandere #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #okkotsu yuta smut #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta smut #okkotsu yuuta x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #okkotsu yuta x you #yuuta smut #jjk x you #yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x you #yuuta x you

[eggroll-sama]

I’m hoping that we get to meet other Bloodhounds members in Leander’s route, since Kuras mentions Leander’s closest peers are “results of Lowtown’s harsh realities” and are “questionable,” but trust him “with their lives.”

How messed up are his closest peers? Are they better or worse than Leander? Do they know how Leander is like behind the scenes? A part of me thinks maybe not, since Leander wouldn’t want anyone, even his closest friends from the Bloodhounds to have a leg up on him and use it against him for leverage. BUT if they do know, do they instigate and enable him into doing terrible shit or do they just watch their leader commit crimes and not say anything so he can keep his spotless reputation?

I’m starting to think it’s not just Leander that’s messed up, like every single one of those members are messed up in some way. I’ve mentioned in a previous post Kuras states “Leander prefers those like him,” and so the attitude and vibe of the Bloodhounds should also reflects on him as a person.

Anyway, I hope we get to see more members in his route and their relationship with each other and the leader. I want to meet the OG members of the Bloodhounds, and know their opinions and thoughts on Leander.

#like how did this guy develop over the ears #was he always the charismatic and smiley leader #did he have a rebellious phase? #analyzing him under microscope #touchstarved game #touchstarved Leander #Leander touchstarved #Leander thoughts

[aealzx]

Shortly after Mikey had left, Leo was surprised to see a different being enter the room, squeezing through the cracked doorway and padding onto the matted floor. An adult orange cat silently coming to no doubt take up residence on Leo’s lap. But then she froze in place when she spotted another, unfamiliar person there, eyeing Donnie with wary curiosity. “Onion Ring?” Leo spoke quietly, addressing the cat as well as giving Donnie a name as a way to let him know the little furry creature belonged to them.

Donnie had already finished all the food that had been brought in, and was just sitting with his arms around curled knees when the new cat caught his attention. And after Onion Ring unfroze and hesitantly started to approach them while sniffing the air Donnie reached his curled fingers out towards her. Onion Ring stretched her head towards the limb, bobbing with each inhale as her whiskers twitched. Then, to Leo’s surprise, Onion Ring curled her head forward to bump and rub against Donnie’s hand repeatedly, a soft purr rumbling from her.

“That’s surprising. She took forever to even be in the same room as April,” Leo commented quietly, pleased to see the tiny smile Donnie got. Apparently cats were acceptable to him right now.

“Not that surprising,” Mikey commented, slipping back into the room with a glass of orange juice and Donnie’s headphones. “He probably smells a lot more like her daddy than humans do. I caught her sleeping on the three of them a few hours ago. She probably got used to them already. Huh? My precious lil baby girl.” Mikey’s voice pooled into smothering gushing as he reached out to pet Onion Ring with both hands, having passed the other items over to Donnie as soon as he could.

Once the headphones were within reach Donnie quickly grabbed at them and pulled them carefully back onto his head. At first Leo thought the small device was just a form of comfort for Donnie to have, something familiar in an unfamiliar place. But after watching Donnie rapidly tap several subtle buttons on the side he realized they were something else. Was it music? Did that mean he was okay with having them talking, as long as they weren’t yelling? Donnie still wasn’t speaking vocally, but he seemed to be in a better mood once the headphones were in place. His expression relaxed a little more, and as one hand picked up the orange juice to sip the other reached out to pet Onion Ring some more. At least he wasn’t shying away from being in contact with everything. But Leo did notice he would still flinch when he accidentally touched Mikey’s hands, so made a note to still keep his distance for now.

It didn’t take long for Donnie to finish the glass of juice, and after it was gone and Onion Ring wandered off to another corner of the room Leo noticed Donnie seemed to be getting restless. Feet shuffling from one being over the top of the other, to switching and the opposite foot being on top. Adjusting the blanket multiple times. Many glances towards the door, and around the room without actually looking at anything in particular. Eventually Mikey reached out to scoop Onion Ring up when she came back to rub against him, rising to his feet and looking at Donnie. “Hey, why don’t we go back to the living room with the rest of your family? Lil Mikey and Raphy were playing with my other cat earlier. We can see if they can get both Pepper and Onion going,” he offered, giving a bright smile.

Donnie’s gaze locked on Mikey when he started talking, and to Leo’s relief he nodded in response to the offer. Pulling the blanket close, Donnie shifted to stand up as well, semi hesitantly following Mikey out of the room. He was deliberate in keeping well out of range of accidentally bumping into anyone as he silently walked behind, betraying his informal training in silencing his movements. Mikey didn’t mind though, more focused on keeping Onion Ring calm while he brought her to a crowd of unfamiliar, and rather noisy, people. It seemed that Raphael had goaded Don, Leon and April into playing video games with him, and the four were easily reaching decibels that Leo may have been concerned about if they were anywhere other than home.

“HA! Eat dirtbike losers!” April’s triumphant cheer caused Leo to check if Donnie was alright with the volume, eyes moving to him from behind. He didn’t seem to react to it at all though, which made Leo wonder once again what the headphones were doing.

“Oh dang, that was a good one,” Raphael praised as Don let out a frustrated noise.

“April what the hell? I thought we were friends!” Leon’s anguished cry followed along with the rapid clicking of the controller.

“Ohhh, got them playing Junkyard Brawl, huh?” Mikey commented, looking at the game on the screens and coming to stand near the couches. It was a little hard to see with the four players crowding in front, but it looked like they had tried to play it fair by splitting the teams in a way there was one guest and one host. Don and Leon against April and Raphael. And it looked like April and Raphael were barely in the lead.

Raph and Lil Mikey were still snuggled down together on the couch, bothing grinning hugely, and looking over when Mikey’s comment alerted them of his presence. And from that they spotted Donnie following close behind, their smiles growing bigger and eyes brightening.

“Donnie!” Both brothers chimed as Lil Mikey sat up a little straighter and Raph opened an arm to make room for Donnie to silently slide in next to them.

“Feeling a little better?” Raph asked, causing Donnie to look directly at him before Lil Mikey caught his attention. A point at Donnie, then finger almost hooking into his own ear, then an open palm near his chin before being brought down. It was a little hard to be limited to one hand, but Donnie seemed to understand well enough. A single nod was given to both of his brothers as Donnie wiggled to get comfortable in the space tucked in next to Raph.

Strangely enough, having all five of their guests in the same room, most of them so closely snuggled with each other, and otherwise just having fun and relaxing, caused Leo to breathe a heavy sigh of relief as he came to stop a short ways behind the couch. With Onion Ring squirming too much, Mikey let her down to scurry away and hide as he had to chuckle in response to Leo, shifting up next to his brother.

“I know that sigh,” Mikey commented quietly. “Mission finally accomplished, eh?”

The comment earned a soft snicker from Leo, and he loosely folded his arms, a little embarrassed about being so easily read. “Yeah. They’re all safe now. We’ll take a breather before we start to tackle how to get them home.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mikey agreed, giving Leo a thumbs up. “I’ll go check up on Casey and April, and see about trying to introduce them again.” Thankfully even after getting his nose to stop bleeding Mom April was able to keep Casey from immediately trying to talk to their guests again. Despite them being used to April, they still seemed quite skittish around Casey and Mom April. Leo and Mikey weren’t sure why, but they figured it would still be better to take it slow next time. Maybe Mikey would have to tell Casey to treat their guests like cats instead of turtles, and to keep his distance until they came to him.

As Mikey left to check on the others, Leo rested his arms on the back of the couch, giving the three brothers a smile when they looked at him briefly. As usual, Raphael was trying to handicap Don by shoving into his space but not actively blocking him. They’d already been banned from standing in front of each other while playing competitive games since they always ended up too close to the screen. Master Splinter was concerned not only for their health, but also for the equipment. But to Leo’s surprise even April and Leon were just as rambunctious. Somehow April had gotten Leon on the floor, and was sitting on his chest to keep him semi pinned. But Leon didn’t seem all that bothered and was continuing to play the game upside down. It must have been a common experience for him since none of his other brothers were reacting to it either.

“We should play this in Repo’s junkyard,” Lil Mikey commented, watching the others beating each other up in the game.

“I don’t think Ms. Nubbins would let us,” Raphael responded, the rumbling of his voice causing Donnie to glance up to make sure he wasn’t being addressed.

Leo wasn’t sure who Repo or Ms Nubbins were, but it sounded like these four were just as much of a handful as he and his brothers had been. Giving a soft chuckle, Leo shifted his gaze when Master Splinter came to stand next to him.

“Perhaps a request for dinner might be in order,” Master Splinter commented to Leo, calmly watching the others with fondness.

“Sure,” Leo agreed easily, taking out his phone again. Donnie had just eaten, but it would still be good to make sure everyone else would be well fed as well. “How about Thai food?”

His question had been to Master Splinter, but Lil Mikey keyed in on the choice and spoke up. “Ohhh Thai food is terrible to order. Too many peanut dishes.”

“...You don’t like peanuts?” Leo asked, paying attention to them now too.

“Raph’s allergic,” Raph answered simply, still watching the TV for a bit before looking over. “We usually don’t order any Asian, Indian, African, or Mexican food because of it. But If you guys want Thai then I can always have something else.”

Leo’s eyes widened slightly as he immediately grew anxious over the revelation, securely filing that fact away in his mind to never forget. “N’no, it’s fine. We can adjust,” he assured, running through the list of foods Raph said to avoid again. “...What about Italian?”

“Ooo, risotto and mozzarella mezzalune both sound good,” Lil Mikey agreed.

“Hey, you think they have that really cool salmon thing here we got once?” Leon chimed in, apparently paying attention now that food was being discussed.

“Oh, maybe that one pasta stuffed with meat?” Raph added.

“Uhhh, I have to admit I’m not sure what any of those are, but here’s the menu,” Leo responded, leaning over the couch so Raph and Lil Mikey could look at his phone with him.

“Oh! They have seafood risotto, how about that Leo?” Lil Mikey asked, looking over to Leon.

“Sounds awesome. Can we get garlic bread and cheese sticks too?” Leon asked, still stuck under April. “What about you April?”

“You mean after I keep kicking your butt?” April teased, grinning as Leon squawked after her character hit his with a mattress. “Honestly I’m good with anything. Lasagne or spaghetti or whatever.”

“Oh oh, this one for me,” Raph spoke up, pointing at a picture on the phone.

Leo was momentarily taken back when Leon requested three things, but then had to shake his head. Right. Teenagers. This would be quite the bill if he wanted to make sure they were all fed well. “And Donnie?” he asked, noting that Donnie was still watching the TV without reacting to the order being made.

Luckily Lil Mikey offered his help by waving his hand where Donnie could see, getting him to look up and watch him make three motions. And as Donnie took a moment to think, Lil Mikey noticed Leo’s brow furrow and gave him a quick explanation. “He’s not ignoring you. He probably just has his headphones silencing everything so he can’t hear us right now.”

As Leo made a soundless O in understanding and gave a slow nod, Lil Mikey watched the motions Donnie made before looking back to Leo. “Anything with scallops and noodles?”

“Uhhh,” Leo hummed to fill the pause, “Scallop alfredo?” he offered, letting Lil Mikey converse with Donnie again.

“Perfect,” Lil Mikey grinned, giving a thumbs up.

Adding the dish to the order, Leo scrolled through the menu to find what he wanted and called to his own brothers. “Don and Raph, is the usual okay for you guys?”

“Yeah, just make sure they don’t forget the onions this time,” Raphael accepted.

“Do the sea bass one this time, please,” Don requested, getting tired of shoving back against Raphael and casually stepping out of the way to make him stumble. It earned a chuckle from some of the others at first, until Leon took the opening while Raphael was semi distracted and knocked his player out of bounds.

“Oi!” Raphael protested as Lil Mikey, Raph and April gave a chorus of impressed and slightly mocking ‘Oo’s.

“Looks like we have an opportunistic leader on their side,” Don commented, just a hint of smugness in his planned opening being easily utilized.

Leon’s brow ended up furrowing a bit at the comment, and instead of gloating he just quickly responded with, “Actually Raph’s our leader.”

He hadn’t expected such a simple comment to distract Don enough to allow April the chance to take his player out of the game as well, ending with just her and Leon dueling. But after a stretch of consideration, Don just voiced a single thought about it. “Huh.”

Raphael on the other hand had more to say. “... Say what now?”

“Well, I guess we trade off every now and then, now. But growing up it was just Raph,” Leon clarified. “And now sometimes April takes over too. It just depends on who’s the most capable at the time.”

It was a thought that Raphael and Don hadn’t considered before, and inevitably caused them to fall quiet in thought. Leo had always been their leader, and to have anything different had always felt like a permanent overthrow to them. Unless it was situations like the recent adventure where Leo was simply not there to lead them. But to trade off? To just temporarily change leadership? It was a novel idea, and Raphael and Don both looked at each other before they ended up looking silently at Leo.

“Oh, don’t even,” Leo shot back, having finished the order and put away his phone just in time to see them stare at him. “We all know what happens when the rest of you try to lead. And it’s not like it was ever my decision in the first place,” he defended, looking to Master Splinter for support and causing the others to follow his gaze.

Master Splinter was quiet, a hand held near his chin in thought until he saw his sons looking to him for direction. “Hmm. It has been some time since we’ve explored the option. Perhaps there would be some merit in considering it once more,” he admitted.

“HA!” Raphael burst, turning to slap Don’s raised hands with his own. It seemed Don was more excited for Raphael after the comments than for himself, but he was still grinning.

Leo on the other hand had a dropped jaw before he picked it up to protest. “Master Splinter! You can’t be serious- they’re not ready!” he scrambled, only able to fall back on the complaints from his childhood since it had been that long ago when the topic was last addressed.

To everyone’s surprise though, it wasn’t Master Splinter that responded.

“No one is,” Raph spoke up with a tone somewhere between amused and incredulous. It caused the others to fall silent and turn to stare at him, prompting him to repeat himself and elaborate. “No one is ever ready to be a leader. Sometimes you just have to, and sometimes you get to learn from others and have backup. But no one is just born a leader. They become one.”

The comments were enough to earn complete silence from everyone in the room now, April’s achievement of securing victory against Leon going uncelebrated as they ended up looking to Raph along with their hosts. And this time Master Splinter remained quiet, allowing someone else to speak reason for once.

It was enough motivation for Raph to continue again, looking over to Leo with a slight grin. “You and I were leaders because we had to be. We’re the big brothers, and we gotta keep the others safe. But I bet you weren’t ready for it either.”

Leo found he couldn’t answer immediately. A rare moment, especially since even Raphael didn’t have a snarky comment or jab. But eventually he let out a slow breath and rested his arms on the back of the couch once more. “....Yeah…. You’re right,” he admitted with a bit of reluctance. He had been the most capable and responsible of the four of them, but that hadn’t meant he was ready to be a good leader. And he’d already had many times where he’d berated himself for his own mistakes in the role.

Raph just grinned, proud to have guessed right. “It’s scary at first to let someone else lead. But it’s actually kind of nice to sit on the sidelines sometimes, and see all the cool stuff your lil brothers can do. Like saving the world from aliens and stuff.”

The comments earned a little more stillness from Leo, marveling at how hearing it from someone else who had apparently been in a very similar situation to him was happy about the change. He followed Raph’s gaze to Leon when he mentioned saving the world from aliens, and as Leon gave a rather embarrassed smile and shrug back Leo could only think of Don and the Triceratons. Mikey and Kluh. And Raphael being there for all of them during everything. He didn’t have a response, but the quiet was long enough for Don to make a correcting comment to dispel his discomfort with the quiet.

“...We’re actually all the same age,” Don pointed out in a mild hush, earning a snicker from Raphael. Of course Don would have to make sure the correct facts were known. But what they didn’t expect was for Lil Mikey to respond after a few connections were made in his own mind because of that fact.

“You guys are quadruplets and can’t even ninja mind meld?!”

____________________

Previous

____________________

Hhhhhh please excuse any clunkiness int eh writing. I had thoughts but stringing them together this time was hard. Which also resulted in this being twice as long as I usually do

#my art #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #cross dimension kidnapping #rise + 2003 crossover #fanfic #writing #long post #Leo #April

[mxtantrights]

Can you write a Jason Todd x reader where they knew each other before he dies but then they reunite. Maybe they were robins at the same time. Y/n has element powers and their eyes change colors based on element currently using. They are afraid of having too much power. Established relationship please!!! I cannot handle slowburns

Broken Bird comes home

the night Jason died was the worst night of your life. The worst. No other night compares to it. Not the night after you spend in the fetal position and crying. Or the night after the funeral where there was no body. Or the night on the first anniversary of his death.

Night time is the worst for you. You just remember getting the calls from Bruce and your whole world shattering. Jason was more than your friend. He was your first crush, your first kiss, first relationship.

He used to do this thing when you two would hold hands on patrol. Your gloves covered your wrists so he would sneak his thumb inside of the leather and rub the inside of your wrist. Something about wanting to feel your pulse.

You had stopped being Robin about three months before you found out Jason died. You never really felt like you could be as good as Dick. And Jason was the only reason you stayed on as long as you did. But even that had it's caveats.

Bruce relied on you and your patience and understanding way more and tried to get Jason to model himself after you. Even though you tried to be more like him, less rule following and more march to your own beat and ask for forgiveness later.

But sometimes the two of them would put you in the middle of their endless tiffs. It drove you up the wall. And one night you just decided right then and there to stop being a Robin.

It's not until after the first year past Jason's death that you decide to go back on the streets to fight crime again. This time it's very different. You don't have anyone to answer to but yourself. And you have no one to look up to anymore.

You don't pull your punches. You don't think in black and white anymore. Everything is gray. And you operate in the areas that used to scare you.

It isn't long before Bruce reaches out, because he's been keeping tabs on you. He asks if you're sure about what you're doing. And he tells you that you're always welcome to come back, as yourself not as a Robin.

You respectfully decline his offer. You hated him the first eight or nine months after Jason's death. You hated how he wasn't there. You hated how that clown just walked free and continued terrorizing the citizens of Gotham.

You actually got to run into him once. Tracked him down, got him all by himself. And delivered a beating that brought him so close to the pits of hell that even you got scared. Bruce showed up then, told you it wasn't right. That you couldn't take justice into your own hands like that.

His words had no affect on you. You hated him for letting the clown go free like that. And you hated that he had a new Robin already.

It's probably not until the third year that you find your footing. You know how to operate as a vigilante. You don't get too mad when you see the new Robin anymore. And you talk to Bruce to check in and still decline his off to join his team.

In those two years you get better at controlling your powers. Yo hardly used them when you were Robin. And after Jason's death you over used them, packing a few punches that moved tectonic plates underneath your feet. This was a balanced way of using your powers. You were coming to understand them.

And then your world shatters again.

One night while on patrol, you notice your being followed. So you take a few turns to lose them. But they're pretty good. So you decide to corner them into an alley way. One where you can confront them.

In the dark you corner your tail. He stands a foot taller than you. All that you can really make out is that red helmet of his. Nothing else tells you about him. He's even using a voice modulator.

You ask him why he's following you. He doesn't answer. You tell him to back off. He doesn't answer. You, at your wits end, run ups o him and are about to deck him when he grabs a hold of your wrist.

You try to pull back but he holds you. It's not that tight. He's not hurting you, you realize. He's just holding you. When you look down at your wrist, you realize that he's touching you right where Jason did.

You wrench your wrist away from him and take a step back. You're about to haul off a bunch of curses at him when he starts speaking to you.

"You're pulse." he says.

Your spine goes straight at that. Jason used to say that, why is this guy saying that to you? You moves to take another step back but you don't. You look right at him.

"Jason?" you ask.

The man starts moving at light speed. All at once the helmet it coming off. You see a tuft of white hair amongst the black. And then he takes off his domino mask. You see it in his eyes. It's Jason, it's your Jason, but it's not.

"How is this possible?" you ask yourself, taking a few steps forward.

When the tip of your shoes meet his boots, and he doesn't move, you take it as a sign that he's okay with you being this close. You hesitantly reach up towards his face but you take your hand back. You don't notice the storm clouds you're forming. Not until the rain starts coming down.

"It's me." he says.

You can't help the tears that come out of your eyes. Or how you start sobbing uncontrollably. Jason wraps you up in his arms. You feel your whole body start to go slack in disbelief. He's real. He's alive, he's here.

"I'm sorry I made you wait." he says.

You wrap your arms around him tightly now, "You're back. You're really back."

You pull back from him a bit, he looks down at you. You can read the worry in his eyes. You reach up and cup his face. He lets out a strangled breath.

"I missed you so much."

a/n: I had to stop myself before it came a behemoth and I dragged you on for a slow burn. this was really fun to write. Especially the elemental part! thanks for sending this in !! <3333

#dc x reader #dc imagine #Jason todd imagine #Jason todd x reader #Jason todd fic #Jason todd #dc fic

[myouicieloz]

Bittersweet memories

Yoo Jeongyeon x member!reader

Synopsis: Jeongyeon sees you’re feeling down and suggests going to the park, while the other girls are not home.

Warnings: just a lil angsty.

Word count: 1.4k

Notes: a silly prompt I thought abt rn lol this will be the last one of the series that i post here on tumblr, i think. i’ll keep updating in ao3 (for this specific series only)

Pt.1 | Pt.2 | Pt.3 | Pt.4 | Pt.5

“Hey, baby maknae,” Jeongyeon calls, smiling. She looks so cute, with her eyes nearly closing as she tops you with her frame. The sensation of her shadows on you is enough to make you open your eyes, sitting on the couch. “Are you okay? Your breathing is kinda erratic.”

It was a slow day at the dorms. Nearly all the girls were busy with either a group or a solo schedule, which left you, Dahyun, and Jeongyeon all alone in the massive apartment. To anyone, it’d be a perfect time to relax, run errands, or work on some hobbies. You were trying to relax, though, but such a thing was still forbidden to your mind — the thoughts started to run at an overwhelming pace as soon as you lay down on the couch, in hopes of destressing.

Thankfully, the women whom you shared your life with were more than attentive to all of your mannerisms. You didn’t even have to say anything, and they’d be by your side, caring, nurturing. Each of them helps in a unique way.

You loved your girls so much it hurt.

“Yes, unnie. Just fine.” The lie flows easily from your mouth, in an automatic response. It’s only when Jeongyeon lifts her brow that you come to realize you don’t have to do that anymore. You don’t have anything to hide — they’ve already seen all of your ugliest parts. Sighing, you add. “Sorry, it’s just, uhm, sorry. I was trying to relax, but I can’t… I still can’t focus on the thoughts too much. I get scared easily.”

Jeongyeong nods, pleased by your efforts to share your feelings with her. You’ve been going to therapy for a couple of months, and it’s been helping you to understand and deal with your feelings better. As a result, you’ve been expressing yourself better, and the girls were able to search for ways of making your routine easier each day. The engines of the big, complex clock that defined your being were slowly getting back into its place. It’s a slow, tiring process, but there’s been progress.

She sits by your side, giving you a reassuring squeeze. You took advantage of her proximity to hold her tight, hugging her even closer. Jeongyeon’s arms have always felt the safest to you. Her embrace sends warmth waves of love straight into your heart, and you smile against the woman’s skin.

“Thank you for telling me, beautiful.” You blossom under her praise, hiding your face in the crook of her neck. Her hands go inside your hoodie to trace slow, delicate circles on your bare skin, exactly how she knows it’ll calm you down. “Perhaps some fresh air will help you feel a bit better? We can go for a walk. The members will take long to come home. How does that sound?”

“Sounds perfect, unnie.” Although there’s hardly anything she suggested you wouldn’t do, simply because it’s her. “Let’s take a walk.”

Jeongyeon’s hands are cozy, and they fit perfectly against yours. You hold her delicately through all the way.

—

The park is the girl’s assigned spot. It’s the place you’ve cried, laughed, and celebrated together ever since your trainee days. Whether it was to go on picnics, hikes, or simply feed the ducks on the lake, you’ve grown used to having such a place as your escape route.

You’re surprised that Jeongyeon led you to the basketball court, instead of the lake. However, what surprises you the most is the ball in her hands, which she shakes side to side in awkward motions.

“What are you doing?” You frown, watching her clumsy moves.

During your trainee days, you, Jeongyeon, and Momo would sneak out of the practice rooms once it all got too much. Your managers would always find the trio here, instead, laughing their hearts out in their own little world. Neither of you knew how to actually play, but being able to move around — wasting some well-needed nerves without the need to be perfect, and just have fun in general was enough. If you concentrated hard enough, you could still hear Momo’s loud laugh, combined with your loud cheers whenever Jeongyeon managed to score a shot.

Reminiscing such memories causes a growing ache in your heart. At the time, it seemed like things were so heavy: the crushing routine of practice, the stress of not knowing whether you’d make it through the next monthly evaluation, the immaturity of being so young… You thought it was the end of the world, back then. Now, looking through the hidden memories behind those feelings is enough for you to realize it wasn’t so bad, after all. Being able to window-shop at the mall without being recognized; the thrill of finally being able to buy that Nintendo you had been saving up for forever; whispering gossip with the girls after the lights were out when you had to be up early for dance lessons, on the next day.

It’s a bittersweet feeling. Something that seemed like a life ago, coming from a version of yourself trapped in another dimension. You felt like that wasn’t yourself anymore. It was impossible to recreate such memories, and even when you managed to do so, it just felt wrong, and weird.

You desperately wanted to go back to being that girl again. And it fucking sucked.

“I thought a little one-on-one could ease up your nerves. You used to love playing before.” Jeongyeon cares about you so much, thinking about the little details of the maknae she loved dearly. Holding on to something that did not exist anymore.

Just like you were. All of them.

Your mouth tastes bitter. Suddenly, you’re no longer interested in being outside — there’s a sudden urge to just go back to your room, curl up and cry.

You used to like going to the park and playing, before.

“So everyone keeps telling me.” You murmur, kicking a rock as your fists close inside your hoodie’s pockets. “About things I liked to do before the— episode.”

Sensing you’re not interested in playing — or maybe she just took a brief look on your face. With a red nose, watery eyes, and a big pout, it wasn’t difficult to tell you were about to burst into tears. Jeongyeon throws the ball away, opening her arms to you.

It’s instant: you run to her, crying as you mutter apologies and empty promises. You wish you still liked to do all of those things. That you weren’t so utterly, completely broken. You want to go back to when you were just a little troubled but fine.

Was it never going to stop hurting? Is this ache going to last forever?

“It’s okay, baby.” Jeongyeon’s calm voice soothes you, as she runs her hands through your hair. Your sobs are loud, probably drawing attention to the little kids playing on the nearby courts, but she doesn’t seem to mind. “It’s okay. Much has changed, and that’s normal. It’s just life, baby. It’s simply life.” Gently grabbing your shoulders, the older woman brushes the tears away from your eyes. Staring at you with a serious face, she adds, “I love you, Y/n. We’re in this together, all of us. That’s what hasn’t changed: our love. Okay?”

You nod, somehow crying even more now that you are surrounded by such a strong love.

“We will make new memories, and find new hobbies. We’ll do whatever it takes. It might not be as fun or shiny as the old ones, but oh, Y/n… they’re going to be even more cherished and precious, I promise.” She promises, resting her forehead against yours. And you truly believe her words.

You love her more than words can say.

“I love you, unnie. Thank you.” You laugh through the tears, glad to have someone like Jeongyeon in your life.

Turning around, you make your way back, in the lake’s direction.

“And I love you more, baby. We’ll find a new hobby, don’t worry.” Her face turns thoughtful, her glasses complimenting her frame well. “Have you tried cooking? We really need another one in the dorms, things are getting unsustainable. I had to eat Nayeon’s food yesterday! Or, well, at least pretend, since it was disgusting. Not even poor Dobby ate it.”

You let out a loud laugh, this time, giving the older girl a playful hit.

Jeongyeon was right: things were not as they once were. The past was in the past, and it might be a good thing. From now on, you’d focus on making new memories, surrounded by the love and support from your family, your friends, and most importantly, from your girls.

#s.writes #twice angst #twice x you #twice x reader #twice imagines #twice jeongyeon #yoo jeongyeon #jeongyeon x reader #jeongyeon angst #kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop x y/n #sol writes

[levyfiles]

watcher love time: what’s your favourite thing about each of the founders?

What a sexually-attractive question, em; thanks for asking

Steven Lim: He's so resilient. His experiences socially have made him so that even his trauma responses to being bullied and pranked as a kid are compassionate and reflective. He is always endeavouring to be better than he was the year before. He is loyal beyond belief and honestly, if I had known more people whose faith guided them into kindness, acceptance and self-sacrifice the way it does for him, I'd have a whole different perspective on religious belief as a whole. He's also funny in a way you can't train into someone and I also like how he navigates social situations in the most relatable way. He makes PodWatcher the most fun for me.

Ryan Bergara: He's forever curious in a way that makes me believe youth in anyone can be preserved in the spirit. I don't know how to make it clear to the world that I might just let this man get away with murder. He probably would have a good reason idk lol but facetiousness aside, he's a damn hard worker. Like I find work ethic in a person to be such an attractive thing. His hyperfixations are unapologetic and it makes me genuinely respect him. He's beautiful both on the inside and out and his form of comedy is so unique that sometimes it's like a car crash I can't look away from. He aspires to do good by others and he has such a strong principled perspective on his relationships with his family, spouse and friends that he has what I truly believe, is a hero's heart. He's brave in a way that defies logic and all his pathological barriers.

Shane Madej: He aspires so much be kind that I can sometimes see how the effort paralyses him to be more proactive socially. His curiosity is only paralleled in Ryan but he has such a very visible love for the world, for humanity, for stories that I can understand why people find him charming and soothing and I can understand that that is the reason he doesn't mind spending a quarter of his career hunting for ghosts because it's more about the experience of traveling and being with friends and doing a job that brings joy to other people than it is about being right. He feels like someone you could trust with a secret whether low stakes or high. I like that he has a unique voice when he sings and he's leaned into it to the point where 30% of his career is now singing.

Thank you again for asking this, Em. It gave me a nice opportunity to detangle myself from my own threads of hurt and upset to remember the reason I'm here and why I have been since 2018.

#watcher #shane madej #ryan bergara #steven lim

[weneeya]

Hi love I hope you're doing well <3 can I ask for a Kageyama hurt to comfort :(

-mia

(Yes I could just ask you straight but its funnier that way)

Miscommunication

hurt to comfort with Kageyama

hiii took some time but I'm here love <3 feel free to request anyway!

Any form of communication had always been difficult for Kageyama Tobio, and for a simple reason : the boy never learnt how to do it. He had always been alone or when he tried to do something, it was always a failure ; simply look at his years before highschool. 

So when it came to his own feelings, it was probably worse than anything else. Tobio was never sure about how he felt because everything was messed up inside of him. And with his communication problem, it was making things even less easy in the end. 

When you arrived, you made everything even more complicated for him. He was in first year and it was the same for you. You were both in the same class and, seeing his difficulties with his studies, you proposed to help him. He hesitated for a bit but after Daichi threatened him about the training, Kageyama came back to you to accept your offer. 

At first, it was simply about studying. You wanted to help him and he needed that help more than anyone else. But after a few times, both of you realized that you wanted to spend more time with each other, and not only to work. It was a bit blurry in his head but for you, it was crystal clear ; he was softer than everyone else said he was. 

When Tobio spoke about it to Nishinoya and Tanaka, who were for him the most informed about girls, they almost jumped on him. It was the perfect opportunity ; they were sure that you loved their little Kageyama and it was also sure that he loved you back. But when they told him about it, the setter freaked out. He almost ran away from the gym, as he needed a moment for himself. 

Him? In love? No, it couldn’t be that. He had never felt anything like this towards anyone, so why now? He didn’t have time for this. He needed to train to be a better setter so Hinata could be better too. It was impossible. 

After the “incident” with his senpais, Tobio started to become more distant with you. Saying that he didn’t have time to hang out, or even to study anymore. You weren’t stupid though, and you clearly understood that he was avoiding you. It hurted, you had to admit it. Because you thought that you weren’t the only one with those feelings, but now you weren’t sure about anything anymore. 

Day after day, week after week, you and Kageyama were only seeing each other during class, when he dared even look in your direction. You were an overthinker, and you thought that maybe you had done something wrong, something which hurted him. This is why you decided that you needed to talk to him, even if he didn’t want to. 

He was on his way to the gym for his daily training when you stopped him, in front of the building. He looked at you for a moment before trying to pass next to you without saying anything. But you moved to be in front of him once again. 

“Kageyaman, can we talk? Please?” Your tone was almost pleading, and he had to look away for a minute. He cleared his throat before nodding so slightly that you almost didn’t notice it. You straightened your back, taking a deep breath before speaking. 

“I’m sorry if I did anything which hurted you. It wasn’t my goal, and maybe I’ve been too much for you. So I wanted to say that I’m sorry. It's just that-'' You cutted yourself mid-sentence because of the tears which were threatening to fall from your eyes. You hated yourself for being like this but it was too much, you just wanted things to go better between you two. 

When Tobio realized that you were on the verge of tears, he realized that he had been acting like an idiot the whole time. You weren’t the one who hurted him, it was him all along. He started to panic, because he didn’t know how to react otherwise. He came closer to you, hesitating for a while before grabbing both your hands with his. 

“No, no..! Don’t cry, please! I’m so sorry!” He was so bad with his feelings, so he didn’t know what he should be doing right now. You looked back into his eyes, your own eyes being a bit swollen because of the tears. He quickly looked away when he met your gaze, a slight blush over his cheeks because of the embarrassment. 

“I should be the one apologizing… I messed up, because I was scared,” he started to say, still not looking at you. “Scared because I think I like you…” His voice was lower than usual, and he almost hoped that you didn’t hear and you wouldn’t ask him to repeat. 

You blinked a few times, not sure about what you just heard from him. So you were wrong all along? Well, you couldn’t blame yourself, he was sending mixed messages. But if he said it, you were sure that he wasn’t lying, because Tobio was so bad at lying. You wiped your tears, and a soft smile appeared on your lips. 

“I like you too, Kageyama,” you said, and he finally looked back into your eyes. He cleared his throat before pointing at the building behind you. 

“I need to go, we can-” he wanted to say, but you stopped him with a kiss on his cheek. “Yes, we can talk about it after.” You waved at him, and left without saying anything more. He stayed here for a moment, trying to process what happened, before half of his team jumped on him, running from the door. 

Of course they listened to everything, and they were obviously going to make fun of the poor Kageyama for a long time. But at least, things were better with you and it was the most important in the end. Maybe he was bad with communication, but you were going to help him with that.

aaaa I hope you like it!! it was so fun to write, I love my boy sm omg

#haikyuu #haikyuu kageyama #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu x reader #hq #hq kageyama #hq headcanons #hq hcs #hq x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama headcanons #kageyama hcs

[justcallmefox89]

Walking in the Moonlight

Rolan and Drakul get to know each other a little better.

TW: m/m sex acts, smutty shenanigans in the woods, dirty talk/teasing

Rolan glances over at Drakul as the pair meander through the woods, admiring the way moonlight strikes his profile as he turns his face up to admire stars.  Drakul bounces on his toes and turns to face Rolan with a beaming smile on his face.

“I’m over 400 years old and I saw the moon and stars for the first time only a few days ago,” he says in a wondering tone.  “The surface world is full of such glorious things.”

“You’ve spent your whole life in the Underdark?” Rolan asks, trying to suppress his shock.

“Of course.  Why would I wish to be anywhere else?”  Drakul reaches up and gently touches Rolan’s cheek.  “But had I known your world contained such beauty I would have ventured to the surface earlier.”

“Do you miss it?  Your home?” Rolan deflects his flirtation with a question.

The drow tilts his head to the side and purses his lips as he considers his answer.  “Yes…” he says haltingly.  “Of course I do.  I miss my sisters, and in some strange, demented way I even miss my mother.  But this…” He takes Rolan’s hand in his and softly smiles.  “This type of freedom is intoxicating.  Being able to use my magic for something other than K’tarai’s schemes.  Not being forced to entertain whichever matriarch my mother wishes to align herself with in the moment.  I haven’t had to kill anyone I didn’t wish to in days!”

Overwhelmed by these, quite frankly, odd admission Rolan grasps onto the safest topic of conversation.  “May I ask about your magic?”

Drakul momentarily stiffens next to him but quickly recovers.  “Of course, my beauty.”

Rolan mulls over his question, trying to think of a tactful way to phrase it.  “When did you break your oath?”

Drakul peeks at the wizard out of the corner of his eye.  “You’re an observant little kitten, aren’t you?”

“Your magic feels similar to Zevlor’s just…”

“Just?” Drakul arches one eyebrow at Rolan’s reticence.

“Darker.  More… all-encompassing.”

“You make me sound positively dangerous, little wizard,” Drakul practically purrs, taking hold of the front of Rolan’s robes and tugging him closer.

Rolan stumbles a bit and throws him arms around the paladin’s shoulders to steady himself.  “You are dangerous,” he gasps as Drakul leans down and nuzzles against his pulse point.  “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing.”

Drakul laugh and kisses the tender skin behind Rolan’s ear.  “And what am I doing?”

“Attempting to distract me…”

“Attempting?  Not succeeding?” Drakul murmurs, nipping at the shell of the tiefling’s ear.

Rolan shudders, a soft moan escaping his lips as he clutches Drakul tighter.

“Maybe I should elaborate on everything I wish to do with you, would you find that sufficiently distracting?”

Rolan whimpers faintly, one hand coming up to tangle in the drow’s hair.

“I wish to have your hands in my hair while my face is buried between your thighs, my mouth on your perfect cock,” Drakul growls, peppering the tiefling’s neck with kisses.  “I want to hear you scream my name when you spill in my mouth.”

“Drakul…” Rolan timidly whines his name, grinding his hardening cock against the paladin’s thigh.

“Mmm, you can be louder than that lovely one,” the drow teases, gripping a handful of Rolan’s arse and sighing in pleasure.  “I want to edge your pleasure with pain, showing you delights you never could have dreamed of.  I want you to mark me with your teeth and claws, and then when your cock is hard again I want to ride you while your hands grip my thighs, guiding my pace, making sure I take every inch of you…”

Drakul grips the back of Rolan’s head, tearing loose the tie holding his hair up and claiming his mouth in a brutal kiss.  Rolan’s lips part on a gasp and Drakul slips his tongue inside, groaning as he tastes Rolan for the first time.  He tugs on Rolan’s hair, pulling the wizard’s head back, and kisses up the exposed column of his throat, licking and biting his skin with soft lips and sharp teeth.  Drakul slots his leg between Rolan’s thighs and grips Rolan’s hips, urging him to grind down against him.  Rolan whimpers at the contact, even with several layers of fabric between them. 

“Gods, you are beautiful like this,” Drakul murmurs.  “Wild and undone, just for me.”

“Drakul…” Rolan sighs out his name, gripping the paladin tight.

“Let me taste you, my lovely one,” Drakul begs, his voice broken and husky.  “Let me feel the weight of you on my tongue.”

Rolan blushes and stammers at Drakul’s request.  “I… I…”

The drow nips at Rolan’s earlobe.  “Answer me, beauty.”

“Yes!” Rolan gasps.

Drakul gives Rolan one last, lingering kiss before backing him against the trunk of a large oak tree and dropping to his knees in front of the tiefling.  He tears at the wizard’s robes, hurriedly bundling them out of the way so he can yank down his breeches.  Rolan sighs as the cool evening air caresses his heated skin, and looks down at Drakul through slitted eyes.

Drakul takes a long moment to appreciate Rolan’s thick, ridged cock, hanging heavy between his thighs, before giving the head a teasing flick with the tip of his tongue.  Rolan groans and closes his eyes, letting his head fall back against the tree trunk as Drakul caresses his thighs and presses warm, wet kisses along his length.

“You make such pretty noises, little wizard,” Drakul mumbles against Rolan’s hip.  “But can I make you sing?”

Rolan shudders as the soft heat of Drakul’s mouth envelopes the entirety of his cock, slowly dragging up and then sliding back down.  One weaponed roughened hand cradles his balls, gently rolling them together.  This sensation, in tandem with Drakul’s mouth, causes Rolan’s knees to buckle and his hips to thrust forward, shoving his cock even further into Drakul’s mouth.

“Drakul,” he whines as a tale-tell heat begins to climb up his spine and a familiar tightening begins low in his belly.

Drakul releases Rolan’s cock from his mouth and grins up at him wickedly.  “Tell me what you need, Rolan.”

“More,” Rolan whines, grabbing the back of Drakul’s head and attempting to urge him forward.

With his free hand, Drakul gives Rolan’s cock a long, slow stroke.  “More… what?”

Rolan grinds his teeth together as he realizes what it is that Drakul wants from him.  He clamps his mouth closed as Drakul strokes him again, teasingly licking the tip of his aching cock.

“You… you… sadist,” Rolan hisses, his hand gripping the tree trunk so tightly splinters dig into his palm.

Drakul slowly draws Rolan’s tip back into his mouth and suckles gently, one hand stroking the base of his cock while the other continues to tease his balls.  The sensations are somehow both too much and not enough, and Rolan finds himself crying out against his will.

“More!  Please, Drakul, please!  I need you…”

Drakul swallows his cock to the base, swirling his tongue around Rolan’s hardened length as his hands work in tandem to tease his balls and thighs.  Heat licks up Rolan’s back and stars spark behind his closed eyelids as his orgasm washes over him.  He’s faintly aware of Drakul groaning in pleasure as he spills in the paladin’s mouth, but everything else is lost to the heat of Drakul’s mouth and the rough touch of his hands.  Each lick of Drakul’s tongue on his sensitive cock sends a shudder through him, and Rolan falls back limply against the tree, breathing hard.

“Such a good boy,” Drakul murmurs hoarsely, pressing one last kiss to Rolan’s bare hip before tucking him back into his breeches.  After making sure Rolan’s laces are all done up and his robes are properly straightened, Drakul rises to his feet and smirks at the now blushing wizard.

Rolan fidgets under the drow’s crimson stare, unsure what to do. 

Should I offer to reciprocate?  That would be the polite thing to do, surely?

“Shall I… ?” Rolan hesitantly reaches out for the hem of Drakul’s tunic.

Drakul chuckles and stops the forward movement of his hands.  “No, my pretty little wizard, this evening is about you.  I can wait until next time.”

Next time?

Heat blooms over Rolan’s cheeks at Drakul’s insinuation.

“I think it’s time we got you back to Cal and Lia,” Drakul continues, dusting bits of bark and dried leaves from Rolan’s shoulders.

A pang of disappointment strikes Rolan at the realization that their time together is over.

“Don’t worry, lovely one,” Drakul murmurs, sensing the quick change in his mood.  “There will be more time for us, I promise.”

Rolan had long ago quit trusting in the promises of others, but something about Drakul desperately makes him want to believe that what he says is true.  That there will be more late night rendezvous in the woods, more stolen kisses and secret touches.

The pair walks back towards the camp in silence, each seemingly absorbed in their own thoughts.  When the glow of the campfire becomes visible once again Drakul wraps his arms around Rolan’s waist and pulls the tiefling back against his chest. 

“One final kiss before you leave me?” Drakul murmurs, his voice low and husky in Rolan’s ear.

Rolan turns to face him, not leaving the protective circle of Drakul’s arms, and tilts his face up to receive a gentle kiss from the paladin.  Rolan wants to stay there, warm in Drakul’s embrace, but the voices of his brother and sister float on the evening breeze, reminding him of pending obligations and promises made.

The two create some distance between them and walk back into camp, to a chorus of knowing smiles and thinly veiled innuendos.  The siblings quickly make their good-byes and make for the safety of the grove.  Only once Drakul’s camp is out of sight do Cal and Lia turn to stare at Rolan, matching grins on their faces.

“So…” Cal says slowly, eyeing his older brother.  “Did you have a nice walk?”

Rolan stiffens under their teasing attention, and attempts to school his face into some semblance of neutrality.  “It was quite nice, yes.  It turns out that Drakul is quite fascinating to speak to.”

“And how much talking did you two actually get done?” Lia asks, smirking as she leans forward and plucks a few twigs from Rolan’s unbound hair.

The wizard freezes, his hands flying to his hair as he suddenly remembers Drakul tearing out the leather thong that usually keeps his hair tied back.  He blushes as his siblings stare at him expectantly, waiting for the salacious details.  Rolan clamps his mouth shut and speedily marches away from him, determined to put as much distance between himself and his siblings as possible.

Cal laughs at his brothers retreating back and Lia calls out his name.

“Rolan, wait!  We want to learn all about our new brother-in-law!”

#bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #baldurs gate #baldurs gate rolan #rolan x reader #bg3 rolan #rolan #holy rolan empire #rolan x tav #rolan bg3 #tav x rolan #gay romance #gale #baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #gale baldurs gate 3 #bg3 karlach #bg3 fandom critical #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fandom #bg3 gortash #bg3 drow #bg3 drow tav #bg3 oc #bg3 tiefling

[lightlycareless]

omgggg, that Toji x reader (*plus* Naoya) was incredibleee, ignore me if you want, I know you made Toji chosing to keep distance from reader and Megumi permanently BUT what if one day he ends up finally seeing Megumi, either personally or by pictures/videos 🥺 We know Megumi it's the spitted image of him, I mean, Gojo's face when he saw him for the first time said it all 😅 And also knowing his baby has the Ten Shadows technique (I cant stop thinking about how proud he was in the canon manga/anime 🥺 he always KNEW from the start Megumi was blessed/gifted, since his first breath, the fact Toji named him is not random) making the entire Zenin clan eat their shit

Heya anon!!

I'm so glad you liked it heheheheheheh a oneshot that I didn't intend to write but it just happened!! aren't we glad it did? lol

I didn't mean to ignore you, I was only focusing on other things first 😅 oof, I still have lots of request to go through, which I plan to do it slowly but surely...

Anyways, I might've not gone down that route, however... why not something angsty? I mean 😏I've had this in my mind so... yeah 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Warnings: mentions of infidelity. Pregnancy. Naoya is, unfortunately, a prick. this is the oneshot anon is talking about. 100% read that first hehe. this is an AU from that, so the second part doesn't count??? I guess. excuse the proofreading. also I haven't written toji that much so please excuse my oocness as well ahahahahha :')

Happy reading!

As much as the three hoped to ignore the bases of your pregnancy, behave as it didn’t rise from an adulterous act, a direct transgression to the principles of the Zen’in, and keep it a secret, it wouldn’t take long before the guilt in each other’s mind began to weight heavy on their mind, ultimately betraying them and revealing the truth to the light, excusing the angered elders to finally get rid of two birds with one stone.

“Where—Where does this accusation even come from?!” You gasp, blood turning cold at the implication—at the notion of the truth. “Do you know the gravity of such words?!”

“Better than you of the act, it seems.” Another accuses. “We were quite aware of the rumors surrounding your ill-fitting behavior, but we never believed it would actually extend to this point!”

“I—I won’t tolerate neither of you disrespecting me!” you cry. “Nor will Naoya for that matter!”

But calling for his aid would no longer prove sufficient, for Naoya, too deep in his own insecurities by that point, had come to the disheartening conclusion that this situation had gotten way out of hand for a simple diversion.

A supposed act of mercy.

He shouldn’t have let this happen in the first place, should’ve respected what you and your marriage represented, what meant to him, and discard his pity for Toji—the man has been alone most of his life, what difference would that make that now?

But he didn’t, he allowed you to go to Toji—no, he handed you over to him, thinking he was doing something right for his cousin, or perhaps something deep inside him was allured by the sick idea of you being with another man and now, he was suffering the consequences.

Consequences he did not like, not one bit—because it got too real for him: you were now pregnant, with Toji’s child, and not his.

And this only highlighted what he considered the pitfalls of this relationship, a strike against his ego and the supposed inability to beget children, a rumor that grew bigger and bigger by each passing day, spreading like wildfire to the point where even outsiders became aware of it.

Which, for a prideful man like Naoya, was only a nightmare.

He loved you, he really did—Naoya never envisioned spending the rest of his life with anyone else…

But he loved his pride more, and when his clan began to actively confront him about it, he couldn’t take it anymore.

And thus….

“…Naoya?”

“This marriage was broken before it even started.” Your husband would say, unexpected words that pierced straight to your heart. “My family advised me well in avoiding you, but I falsely believed I could achieve differently.”

“What—what are you even saying?” you breathe. “What do you mean by—by differently?”

And… where does everything you lived with him stand?

The time you spent with him, the sweet nothings he’d whisper into your ear, to love you both swore to one another, reminding each other that there was no one else that compares…

And that you were the only woman who has ever made him feel this way—loved— and would do everything in the world to make happy…

Was it… all … a lie?

All for… nothing?

Or were you the only one that actually believed the other’s words?

“I cannot look past these transgressions.” Naoya continues. “You’ve left me no choice.”

“But you—you made me do this!” you gasp. “I never—I never wanted to be with anyone else! All this time, my heart only belonged to you!  How could you—how could you abandon me after all we’ve gone through together?!”

Naoya doesn’t say anything else anymore, instead, he simply turns around, exiting the room to leave you in the hands of the vengeful elders who did not hesitate to do what they had long desired—banish you from the estate.

Swiftly yet cruelly, you wouldn’t be able to take anything with you, not even a change of clothes or even money (you didn’t even ask for much, just enough to survive the week) as you were forced to face a new life of your own—alone, pregnant.

Going back to your family was also out of the question; the shame that you’d bring upon their name was one the Zen’in didn’t not waste time to remind them of—at the end, there was only so much your father and siblings could do against the invasive ways of the elders, and perhaps, a part of them deep inside, were also disappointed that you’ve succumbed to such foul thing.

And so, you were tossed onto the street, with nothing more than the clothes you were wearing, whatever you had for savings throughout the years, managed to take it out before either clan could close your account—but most importantly, with a broken heart you believe will never heal, not after the grave wound your husband’s indifference inflicted on it.

The pain you couldn’t even mourn properly due to all the things you had to worry about now.

The first thing you did was search for a place to stay, though getting one was proving to be an almost impossible task.

Thankfully, you were allowed to keep one other thing, maybe it eluded their minds when all this was happening, but you’re not going to question why when it was going to help you pay for a roof.

Naoya’s ring, your wedding ring, was something many would consider expensive, the kind of flashiness expected from a prestigious family like the Zen’in.

You remember a time when any kind of ring would’ve been enough for you to marry him. You didn’t need anything extraordinary to commit your life and heart to him.

That’s nothing but a far cry from what you felt now.

It still hurt to pawn it, but it was the only way you could accommodate yourself and the unborn child inside you, in the only area you could afford with what you got, for even then many suspected that your ring… well, had dubious origins.

When was the last time you even had to worry about the costs of living? Food, clothes, water…?

Many years—it had to; ever since you got together with Naoya, he’s been the one that took care of you.

You just had to say the word and he’d disappear all of your worries—even from the simplest of wants, Naoya indulgingly obliged.

It was a happy life you eventually considered for your child—imagining how happy they’d grow to be without a single worry, solely focusing on what they’ll have to play that day, or how to escape their over doting parents.

A long-gone dream, tossed to the side as a nightmare quickly took its place.

…

Did Naoya ever mean the words I love you?

Or was he doing all this just to keep you there, complying, just in case someone better came along, just like his clan wished would happen?

There mere thought of his devotion being nothing but an act tightens your heart with sorrow once more, gifting you the tragic notion that perhaps, all this time, you never knew your husband…

Maybe ex-husband, by this point.

All that was left from those moments, the slightest semblance of that marriage was this baby, created from what you thought your unconditional devotion to him, turning out to be your very own downfall.

The only one that would know of these struggles would be your baby, the one to accompany you through the darkest point of your life, hopefully to a brigther dawn.

And yet… you’ve never felt so alone.

Time surprisingly, went quicker than you anticipated, though not as easy as you would’ve wanted.

Life in your new home was still very difficult to get used to, even when it’s been months since… that.

But with the job you managed to get (whatever place hired pregnant women—they’re supposed to be at home, some would say, you didn’t care.) and some extra jujutsu work you did on the side, you managed, enough to give you a, not exactly comfortable, but just enough lifestyle.

As long as you sacrificed all the things you once considered granted and turned them into luxuries: such as warm showers, take out, and the sweets you liked to indulge once in a while; your pregnancy has been horrible because of that, and that’s without considering the medical bills you’re struggling to pay as well.

But if that wasn’t enough, your noisy neighbors presented issues of their own as well.

You’re not going to deny that your presence there was like moths to a flame, starting from your somewhat suspicious acquisition—all cash—of the small house you were living in.

From there, your loneliness, alongside your pregnancy; single mothers were unheard of, or rather, highly criticized, thus, all eyes were on you, down to your smallest movement.

Yet, even then, as annoying as they were, you were ok as long as it meant you never get to see those that hurt you ever again.

However, what you want isn’t necessarily what’s going to happen, and that would be reminded of one fateful night with an unsuspecting knock, just after you were getting ready to go to bed.

It wouldn’t be the first time someone came to bother you, but it would be the first time someone did so at this hour, and with such insistence that far from worrying you, it made you angrily storm at the entrance, ready to demand who’d be so inconsiderate enough to visit you so late at night!

And you’d get your answer soon enough, in the most shocking, horrifying, if not sorrowful manner you could’ve possibly anticipated, prompting you to close the door as soon as you saw his face, or attempted to, his reflexes much faster than yours.

“Get—get away from me!” you shrieked, hands trembling as you did your best to hold the door shut against his overwhelming strength— but even your husband has admitted that in terms of power, he excels like no one else.

“Y/N—” he breathes, somewhat amused that you’d been able to hold him off as much as you could, though eventually he was able to break free from your grasp and enter your home, you step away from him soon after.

“What are you even doing here?!” you gasp. “No—that doesn’t matter! I don’t want to see you! I’m not going back!”

“I’m not here to take you back” He quickly responds, eyes falling down to your stomach, making his face soften at the subtle bump evident through your clothes—with this sight, he knows he can’t take you back.

“Then—then why are you here, Toji?”

Perhaps Toji needed to see through his own eyes, what the whispers went on about at the estate regarding your absence.

He wasn’t there when it happened, promised himself to be far away from you as soon as your pregnancy was announced to the estate.

Toji would’ve normally taken this opportunity to act on retribution against his family, rub it on their face that the future of the clan came from him, a low life.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do so when you cheerfully paraded around the halls, happy to finally be forming a family with your beloved husband, even though it wasn’t of his making.

For the first time in his life, he thought himself to be too cruel for having planned such atrocities against the only person that has never been rude with him, always welcoming him with a smile on your face, or at least whatever you permitted when not following Naoya around like a lost puppy.

And the baby… well, he won’t deny that he was glad that his child would have a vastly different life from his—with you as his mother, it couldn’t be any other way.

Or so he believed.

Even when promising to keep away, he still attempted to check in on you, especially now that you were pregnant, whenever he had to go to the estate that is. That day was no be no exception, begrudgingly coming back to see what else he could scam out of his family to ensure his living outside.

Toji’s slyly scanned the hallways for your figure, the briefest indication of such, either through your giggle, staff, or even his cousin’s annoying voice—there were moments where he imagined how delightful it must’ve been to have you by his side, instead of Naoya’s; to be receiver of your laughter instead of that man who clearly didn’t deserve you.

But even if it was with him, he still found comfort in the fact that you were around, there.

Not like now, gone from Naoya’s side.

In fact, you were nowhere to be seen! Not with your staff, not eating by the gardens, or even indulging in one of your husband’s idiocies.

Nothing.

And no one had seen you either.

Or more like didn’t want to say, that much became evident when he stomped his way towards a nearby staff member, demanding your whereabouts, only to be responded with a fret falsely feigning ignorance, or foolish diplomacy.

At the prospect of your disappearance, Toji felt his blood run cold, almost like the estate lost whatever little warmth it had, worsening each time he asked another servant, and he’d get the same answer.

The implications behind your absence were growing heavier in his mind, to the point it sunk his heart to his stomach…

And propelled him to the one person who would undoubtedly know where you were.

“Naoya—Where is Y/N?!” Toji commands the moment he sees the heir, the young man instinctively flinched at the sight of his angered cousin, almost as if he knew what was running through his mind and attempted to make a run for it, only to be stopped by the collar, dead on his tracks. “Do not run away, coward! Answer me!”

“She’s—she’s not here anymore.” Is what Naoya manages to squeak, but Toji doesn’t need to be reminded the obvious.

“Where. Is. She.” He hisses, the worst of his assumptions slowly becoming a reality. “What have you done to her?!”

“What—what needed to be done!” Naoya gasps. “I—I couldn’t allow it!”

Toji doesn’t remember much after Naoya told him that the clan decided she was better off on her own—only that the heir was on the floor, bloodied and whimpering while attempting to cover his face, either trying to control the throbbing of his skin, the blood from spilling anywhere else, or perhaps even shame.

No. It couldn’t be the last. To have done something like what he did required a shameless man to do so.

Nonetheless Toji didn’t bother to find out nor to be reprimanded, quick to assert what needed to be done and heading out the estate; he couldn’t even bother cursing those that had done nothing but the worst after the worst, each time a new low, for his mind solely pertained in finding you.

It took him a while to do so, as expected, but he knew it was only a matter of asking around for a woman that simply didn’t fit to do the job—and such, here he is now.

“I want—needed to see you.” Toji takes a step closer.

“Get—get away from me.”

“No, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

“You were fine doing that before—what’s so different from now?” You spat.

“This is different, Y/N. You’re alone—and you need me.”

“I’m not alone—I don’t need you.” You gasp. “Get away from me or I’ll—I’ll call the police!.”

“If you don’t need me, then the baby does.”

It’s like he struck a nerve with his words, because soon after tears would begin to fall down your cheeks, revealing that the sight you attempted to portray, the strength you so fiercely put up against him, was nothing but a façade, a way to hide the fact that indeed, you needed help.

Exhausted from facing all these uncertainties on your own, afraid.

But not anymore, not when Toji was here, more than willing to step in, as seen in the way he swiftly holds you in his arms when he sees you almost faint from distress, attempting to comfort you as you continued to cry.

“Get— get away from me…!” you’d say again, still fighting against his hold. However, he doesn’t fight it, he simply allows you to vent, taking in all the pain and hatred your heart harbored from the moment you were kicked out of the estate. “Don’t touch me!”

“I’m not leaving” Toji insists, he feels you trying to squirm your way out from him, but his strength doesn’t allow it. “You can struggle all you want, but I’m not leaving you on your own—”

“What difference does it make to you? Your family abandoned me to my luck! And even forced my family to do the same!” you breathe, Toji’s eyes widen—he did not know that; his fury for the Zen’in grows, but this is not the time to deal with that. “They don’t care if I die on the street!”

“I know.” He murmurs, holding you tighter against him.

“And I—And I tried my best to—to move on, but I can’t! I can’t do it!” you sob. “I’m so alone, and scared, and—and ashamed! I don’t want to live like this anymore!! I don’t want to die!”

“…I know.”

“Why—why is this happening to me?! All I ever wanted was for—was for Naoya to love me. I never wanted anything else! I never wanted money, I never wanted to hurt anyone either! I just—I just wanted to live a happy life with him, to make him happy!

But then he—he tossed me away, at one thing he didn’t like, he acted like I didn’t even matter! He didn’t even put up a fight to defend me! he just—he just let them hurt me, like what we had was—a lie!

 Did he never—did he even love me?”

Speechless, all Toji could do is continue holding you as you kept on pouring out your feelings, hearing the heart wrenching sound of your sobs that just kept reflecting how wounded you were by Naoya’s betrayal, the transgressions of his family, and the disappointment of yours.

And all because of something you didn’t even suggest in the first place. It was him who made his way into Naoya’s mind, and eventually, it was Naoya who pushed you into it, regardless of what happened later.

He wanted to do it; you know?

He wanted to go back there and murder them for all they’d done against you.

But when he left that place one last time, he promised he would stop thinking about himself, and start doing what is right—what was needed.

If Naoya wasn’t to step up and be a man, then he would.

Toji would gladly throw away his own pride, his own anger and thirst for vengeance, just to see you safe and happy once more.

Things your husband, could simply not—but he… he’d do it in a heartbeat.

“I promise you.” Toji would reassure you once carefully placing you down to the bed after tiring yourself from crying, followed by a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

 “I swear, Y/N— I will not let my family do the same things they’ve done to me to our child. Even if it costs me my life, I will do everything in my power to keep the two of you safe.”

And unlike your husband, he means it.

Yes, a second part is coming :) just gotta put this one out first hehe.

Anyways, it's not exactly what you asked but I think it's going there??? I mean Toji STEPPED UP and was like OK imma take care of my baby mama. also, here Naoya .I. put it where it fits. ugh, can't say we're done with him...

agihajkgksa I'm excited for what's to come, I haven't written this level of angst in a while!! oof!!!

Thank you so much for your patience and for sending this ask :> I'm super happy you've like my oneshot so much!! I hope you'll be able to like this too!!

Take care, and see you soon! ❤️❤️

#ask #toji x reader #jjk toji #naoya x reader #naoya zen'in #toji fic #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk angst #toji zenin #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #toji x y/n #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

[howlingday]

on a scale of Gomez Addams to Vernon Dursley (for treatment of Harry not Dudley) where do you think Jaune's dad falls in terms of neglect?

Hm... That's a pretty good scale.

Gomez is especially attentive of his kids, and though his enthusiasm may get taken away when praising one of his kids, he will quickly shift gears to support his other child, though it may take some guidance from his wife, Morticia, like we've seen in the animated series. So, let's put him at... 10.

Vernon Dursley is... clearly at the bottom of the scale, even if his weight scale only shows three digits, considering he puts more attention and care to his biological son than to his adopted son/nephew. Dudley has his own room while Harry sleeps in a storage space under the stairs. To be honest, the only good Dursley in the house is Dudley, though he starts off as an entitled shit, he actually apologizes to Harry later on for how horribly he treated him (sure, I only know this because it's in a deleted scene, but eh). So yeah, 1.

Obviously, there are worse fathers in media, just like there are better fathers in media. Now, let's look at Jaune's dad and... Oh... Uh... It seems he's... misplaced... Not to worry, though! We can just look at what kind of person he was based on what his kids are like.

First off, we have Jaune's dad's "infamous" quote of "all you need is confidence". And I put infamous in quotations because people don't like that this was something he learned from his dad. But, to be honest, I think this is a great first step. Jaune's dad is clearly offering life advice for his son. It's not perfect advice, but it is good advice, especially for a lanky teenager like Jaune who only just decided to become a huntsman.

People will harp on Jaune's dad, saying that he should have trained his son to be a huntsman, but... I don't think Jaune wanted to be a huntsman until he was much older. Ruby, Yang, Weiss, and probably everyone else in the show already had training under their belts from an early age and chose to go to Beacon to continue their training so they can become huntresses. Jaune... didn't, if I'm assuming right. Jaune basically did the same thing as hopping on a bus for boot camp- Wait, no. No, it's more like he jumps into a platoon, SKIPPING boot camp so that he can get that OJT. Then again, there's probably a better analogy for this, but my point is that I don't blame Jaune's inexperience as much on his dad as I do on Jaune himself.

BUT there's also one scene that shows us what kind of parents Jaune's dad AND mom were like. Jaune says in V3 that when he left for Beacon, his parents told him "Hey, if this doesn't work out, you can always come home". Normally, this is common rhetoric for parents telling their kids that they can always fall back to their family whenever they fail. But Jaune interpreted this as "You are going to fail, and we'll see you when you do". Jaune believes his parents don't believe in him, which, if you consider they raised him, they probably have good evidence to believe this.

That said, let's look at how Jaune's sister turned out. Saphron, whom we meet in V6, is a married homemaker mom who opens her home to her brother and his many, many, many friends. That said, I want to take this time to say that if my sister dropped in on me with a dozen people looking to crash for the night, I'm... hesitant... to welcome anyone but her into my home. But Saphron, champion Arc that she is, welcomes everyone. Overall, Saphron seems happy, like, genuinely happy with her son and wife. She even goes along with Jaune's plan to steal the bullhead from Cordovin.

I'm probably speculating here, but I think there's two ways to look at this. You could either see this as "Mama and Papa Arc kicked out their daughter and she's much happier having left them" OR "Papa and Mama Arc raised their kids to rely on each other because family always helps family". Me, I prefer the ladder, and the second of the two options.

So on a scale between "maliciously neglectful papa" and "accidentally neglectful but still well-meaning papa", I would put Papa Arc higher on the scale simply for the fact that Jaune and Saphron don't really have anything to say about their parents being neglectful, intentionally harmful, or in any real negative light. But they still let Jaune run off to be a Huntsman with the family sword, so... 8/10. Good parents, but not perfect. He's no Bandit, that's for sure.

#rwby #papa arc #my thoughts #character analysis #saphron #saphron cotta arc #jaune arc #my answer #my answers #harry potter #the addams #the addams family

[missywritesfor7]

❤️‍🩹Lifeline | MYG❤️‍🩹

Synopsis: It’s long been controversial for idols to date, but idols dating each other can be really beautiful or a complete nightmare. When Yoongi's relationship with another idol is discovered, he decides maybe it’s time to break the taboo and show people it’s ok for idols to date. Instead, they find themselves caught in the midst of one media frenzy after another and struggle to keep their relationship as strong as it had been the past 2 years. Yoongi finds a self destructive way to cope, and it causes even more problems than it solves. As they fight for their relationship and their careers, they discover that sometimes, the only way to truly be free is to let go.

Pairing: idol!Yoongi x idol!OC

Warnings: nsfw, alcoholism, cheating, depression, anxiety, Yoongi goes through a bisexy ho phase, Yoongi is also in his alcoholic phase, post-military BTS

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Ch. 17: Emotions

Treatment isn’t easy for Yoongi. Dealing with the effects of withdrawal is one thing, but having to face his feelings head on is the hardest. He’s felt like quitting a number of times, but every evening he gets a message from Hyeri that reminds him why he’s doing this.

Hyeri had tried to limit her communication with Yoongi while he’s in treatment. She thought it was nice that they allowed him to keep his phone, but she had done a bit of online research and came to the conclusion that talking to him too much could do more harm than good. She keeps her messages down to a summary text at the end of each day. She does her best to only send positive messages. Nothing about her now daily conflicts with JJS, or how she’s been searching for a way out because they continue to treat her like she’s a troublesome burden. That stress she’s been carrying on her own.

For Yoongi, he only knows what Hyeri tells him. So in his mind she’s doing perfectly fine. She’s working hard and simply waiting for her next role. He’s happy that she’s doing well and it helps him relax more knowing he doesn’t have to worry about her.

Although he’s still allowed internet access he hasn’t spent much time looking at social media. He did once and he came across the ever vicious rumor mill spreading lies about Jimin owing a gambling debt to someone. It was so ridiculous that all he could do was laugh, but when he had his session with Minho the laugh turned to a cry.

Up until then he mostly spoke about Hyeri and himself in his sessions. That day he had to explore his feelings towards his members and that hurt him more. It was never a question whether he loves them, but he didn’t realize how much of their pain he put on himself. The rumors about Jimin were laughable, but Yoongi took it personal. He felt bad for Jimin being dragged through the mud for no reason and he felt helpless to do anything to protect him. Someone as sweet and selfless as Jimin doesn’t deserve that. None of the members do. After that, Minho suggested Yoongi stay away from socials and so he did.

Until today. While having lunch he found himself going down a rabbit hole that simply started with him trying to figure out the type of wood that was used in the construction of the cabin he’s staying in. After reading the history of log cabins around the world and the best wood for different climates, he saw a random Naver article at the bottom of the page he was on that caught his attention.

Rainbow heard arguing with manager, acting career over?

Laugh. He’s supposed to laugh these things off. He’s telling himself to laugh. He’s not laughing. He’s watching a video taken of Hyeri and he’s not laughing at all.

He knew not to click the article. He knew not to play the video someone candidly took from their cell phone. He knew better but did it anyway. The video shows Hyeri yelling at her manager in a rage. He hadn’t seen her like that with anyone other than him. The soft spoken Na Hyeri was unloading on her manager about the jobs she’s not being offered and how they keep lying to her about it. She mentions being forced to accept tiny roles for no money because they’re punishing her for telling the truth.

Last night, Hyeri had a shoot for what she was told was a commercial for a new perfume. What it turned out to be was a small budget shoot for an amateur made air freshener spray. When she learned that the shoot was unpaid, which they also lied about at first, she unleashed her rage towards her manager.

Hyeri thought they were alone. She asked to speak to her manager out back. She had no idea someone was standing by recording for some reason. Almost as soon as it happened, the video was everywhere. She’s horrified by the invasion of privacy and even more horrified that she once again finds herself the center of controversy.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, she gets a message from Yoongi today asking her what’s going on and if she’s ok. Last night when she got home after the entire fiasco, she sent Yoongi her usual text telling him she had a small shoot and that was it. Now it seems he’s seen the news and she knows he’s not too happy about her not telling him about how bad things have gotten between her and JJS.

She admits that things have been rocky, but she didn’t feel it was anything she needed to worry him about. Of course now that he knows, it’s got him more worried than if she had told him from the start. Once more her silence has caused the exact thing she wanted to avoid.

Unconvinced that she’s ok, Yoongi decides to call Hyeri. Until now they’ve only texted each other. They both agreed that it would be best that way until he’s made it through the rough beginnings of his sobriety. Today he doesn’t care about that though. He needs to hear her voice to be sure she’s ok.

“You’re breaking the rules, Yoon-gya,” Hyeri chuckles when she answers.

“I think I deserve a pass this once,” he responds relieved to hear her voice and to hear that she doesn’t seem to be in any distress.

“You didn’t believe me when I said I was ok?” She jokes.

“You tend to lie about that a lot,” he chuckles.

“Look who’s talking,” she laughs softly.

It feels like nothing has changed but at the same time it feels the way it felt when their relationship was fresh and new. They talk about anything and giggle at how cute each other sounds for about an hour before Yoongi finally asks what he initially called her for.

“So are you going to tell me about the video?” He asks.

“I hate people always invading my privacy,” she huffs.

“What’s this about the roles you’ve been getting? I thought you were working on some commercials?”

“I was. It’s just that they’re small commercials. The small kind that don’t pay,” she admits with shame.

“Hyeri…”

“I know, but I tried to stand up for myself,” she says hoping for praise. “I finally told them how the way they’re treating me is bullshit. I found roles that I wanted to go for and they got upset about it.”

“I’m proud of you,” he says. He knows opposing anyone is hard for her. For her to stand up to JJS after she had been so complacent before is a big step. “You don’t even sound like you’ve been crying,” he jokes.

“I’m not the same Hyeri I used to be,” she chuckles. “But….” She trails off not finishing her sentence.

“But?”

“I’m still a little…scared I guess.” She didn’t want to admit to that. She doesn’t want him worried about her, but they had been having such a good talk that she was about to release her troubles to him out of habit. He’s her best friend and she had been holding her fears in since she couldn’t tell him. Now it’s out there and she knows he’ll try to pry every feeling out of her in an attempt to understand, comfort, and fix every issue.

“Scared of what?” He asks.

“Everything. Losing everything. JJS isn’t going to treat me right so I need to leave them, but then where can I go?”

“Have you been looking around?”

“Yeah, but what if I’m rejected by everyone? What if this is it for my acting career? I could go back to music but you know acting is my passion.”

“Baby, I’ve told you I can get you in contact with people. Anything you need. You don’t have to try to do this on your own.”

“But I can’t have you help me,” she sighs. “Not right now at least. You need to focus on you.”

“I’m doing fine. Let me know what company you want to go for and I can find a contact and get you in touch.”

“Yoongi stop.” This is exactly what she knew he would do and exactly why she didn’t want to say anything. “I mean it. I’m scared but I’m not completely helpless. Please focus on your recovery and don’t worry so much about me.”

“I know,” he groans. “It’s just hard when I’m away.”

“What’s going to convince you that I’m fine?”

“I don’t know,” he huffs. “If I could see you or…hold you…”

“I just need you to trust me. If I’m not ok I’ll let you know.”

“Will you?”

“Of course. I promise. I just need you to trust me. Trust me and keep taking care of yourself. Can you promise me that?” She pleas.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I promise I’ll take care of myself. I promise I’ll be better so I can see you sooner. I miss you.”

“I miss you too. Don’t worry about me.”

“Can you at least promise me you won’t keep things from me anymore? I know you don’t want to worry me but I think I worry more when you don’t tell me what’s going on. Whether it’s good or bad, I just want to be able to support you.”

“I know. I promise, babe.”

“I love you so much, Bow.” She can’t tell but he’s suddenly holding back tears. Talking to her, hearing her voice is so calming to him. He misses her so much and though he knows this is for a better future, it still hurts to be separated from her.

“I love you too, Yoon-gya.”

Hyeri misses him just as much. Dealing with the stress JJS has had her under has been exceptionally difficult without Yoongi being there to comfort her when she feels overwhelmed. All she can do is ask herself what Yoongi would do. Every time she does she ends up in trouble or the talk of the town for a while. It’s not all bad though. She’s been walked over her whole life because she never felt like she had a voice and was afraid to speak up. Now she does and she feels good setting boundaries and fighting for herself. She fears for the future, but she at least knows she won’t let anyone walk all over her again.

Yoongi got an extra boost of motivation after talking to Hyeri. He was determined more than ever to return to her soon and healthy. He still worries about her, but hearing her voice and how she didn’t sound sad at all helped him feel better.

Minho has been helping a lot as well. Yoongi still has a long way to go, but Minho could always find a way to make Yoongi feel safe when he’s vulnerable. Each session he opens up more and he feels much lighter being able to talk about things he had been holding on to for a while.

His next session after talking to Hyeri, Yoongi is much more enthusiastic and bright. He tells Minho about their conversation and how he’s happy to be getting the help he needs so he can be the best for her, his members, and his fans. But especially Hyeri.

Only a week has passed since hearing Hyeri’s voice, but Yoongi feels like he’s made a lot of progress recently. He even sent a message in the group chat with the rest of the guys to tell them how he’s doing. He was optimistic and it was refreshing for the rest of the guys. They praised him for doing well and expressed how they can’t wait to see him again.

He’s in the middle of making himself dinner. Nothing special, just a simple pasta dish with a bit of steak. He found passion for cooking again and had been taking the time to cook each one of his meals. That’s just how motivated Hyeri made him.

He’s got his steak cooking in the pan and his pasta already in a bowl. Everything smells good and he feels great. To make things even better he gets a call from Hyeri. He hasn’t heard her voice since last week and he’s been dying to hear her again.

“Hey, babe,” he says when he answers.

“Hey,” she responds. “I wanted to call you because it would be easier than texting. I did it!” She shouts in excitement.

“Did what?” He asks confused but equally enthusiastic.

“I told JJS to go fuck themselves!” She giggles.

“You what?” He asks freezing in place.

“I’m done with them. I want to go for the lead in a super duper huge new series. It’s…maybe a bit ambitious,” she says shyly. “But I could at least audition but they tried to give me more bullshit about taking a break and being compliant so I told them to shove their compliance up their ass.”

“Wow,” he says in disbelief. She’s typically not the one to do such a thing, and certainly not when she hasn’t found another agency yet. “You really did that?”

“Yeah! I’m sick of them treating me like shit. I should’ve listened to you in the beginning and left them a long time ago.” She pauses and takes a deep breath. “I don’t know what happens next, but I’m happy. They won’t stress me out any longer.”

“Baby, that’s incredible! I wish I could take you out to celebrate.”

“We’ll have plenty of time for that later,” she giggles. “I’m just happy to be free.”

“I’m happy too.” He pauses and thinks a moment before speaking again. “Are you at home?”

“Yeah,” she responds. “Of course I am, why?”

“I want to see you.”

“How? I mean you can’t.”

“Sure I can. I want to see you so let’s video call,” he suggests.

“What? I mean no, I think it’s too soon. We already broke the rule about not talking on the phone.”

“Just once,” he pleads. “Plus I want to show you the dinner I made.”

“I don’t know,” she hesitates.

“I’m switching to video,” he says not giving her a choice. He switches to video and waits for her to do the same. “Please,” he pleads again. “Just for a minute, baby.”

She gives in and turns the video on after rushing to try fixing herself up a bit. Her camera turns on and Yoongi can instantly see why she was reluctant to video chat.

“You’ve been crying?” He asks noticing how her eyes are just a slight bit puffy. Her attempt to hide under the shadows of the low lighting in the bedroom wasn’t enough to fool him.

“No,” she lies.

“Hyeri!” He fusses.

“I mean I’m a little scared, I told you that.”

“But you’ve been crying.”

He wants to protect her. He wants to hold her and make sure she never cries alone. He would fix all of her problems and wipe every tear. She knew he would feel this way and that’s why she didn’t want him to know she had been crying. His priority is her now and she doesn’t want it to be.

“Just a little,” she admits. “It’s a big step and the future is unknown, but I’m ok. I’ve got a few agencies that I’m looking into. Don’t worry about me, Yoon-gya, I’ve got this. I told you, I’m not the same Hyeri I was before.”

“You’re sure you’re ok?” He asks still not convinced.

“You’ll never believe me, will you?” She chuckles.

“No,” he smiles.

“What about you though? How are you doing?”

“I feel better each day. I feel better hearing your voice and seeing your face.”

“Therapy is good?”

“Yeah,” he boasts. “It’s going great.”

That’s the truth, Yoongi has been getting better each day. He makes progress in many different ways. However, every time he thinks he’s made progress in one area, something in an old but forgotten area pops up.

Hyeri has been happy with her choice. She isn’t getting work, but that’s all going to change once she signs with a new agency. Though that had been in limbo for a little while.

JJS decided they would sue Hyeri for breaking her contract. They want her to pay damages for not holding up her end, claiming she’s cost them lots of money. She’s terrified since she’s never been sued before, but she couldn’t stand by without countersuing for her own reasons. The lies and especially the unpaid roles they had her doing without telling her from the start that they would be unpaid.

Yoongi got Hyeri in contact with an attorney he knows and trusts. Hyeri was happy, because without company resources she didn’t know how she’d get an attorney. It’s all a mess, but they both feel optimistic. There’s plenty of proof that JJS were in the wrong so she hopes it will be an easy case.

Just because it seems like it’s an easy case, doesn’t mean it will be a quick one. While the case is ongoing, Hyeri managed to land a deal with a new agency about two weeks after telling JJS to shove it. She’s ecstatic and eager to get working again.

Yoongi feels good that she’s found a new company. He’s happy that she seems in good spirits despite how long her case is taking in court. He’s happy that she’s happy. He’s happy.

He’s outside laying on top of the picnic table staring into the sky. His jaw is tightly clinched and his ears are welled with tears that have rolled down the side of his face. He wants a drink so bad right now.

He was fine at first. He started his day with some fruit and iced coffee. He played on his keyboard that he had brought in so he could work on music. Then he went walking outside a little. During his walk his mind started wandering as it typically does. But for some reason his mind was on Hyeri. Not that that’s unusual, but the thoughts went from typical longing to pure anxiety.

He knows Hyeri is trying to stay strong, but he knows her too well to believe that she’s doing as ok as she says she is. He’s worried about her. Worried that she’s going to bed sad and alone every night. Worried that he’s been away too long. Worried that something else may happen to her and he won’t be there for her. He still has the image of her car accident in his mind and he still hasn’t fully forgiven himself. As a matter of fact, he hasn’t forgiven himself for anything.

When he talks to Minho it’s always productive. He’s forgiven Hyeri for the way she handled things with the dating rumors both times. He thought he forgave her before but realized he hadn’t. Thanks to Minho’s help, Yoongi has been able to move past that. He’s talked about other things since, but hadn’t quite realized that deep down he still hates himself.

He’s staring at the sky through his tears wishing he could just have one drink. Something small to take the edge off. He thought there had to be something in that house or even something the doctor may have left behind in the second cabin after he left. Nothing. Yoongi searched and searched and found nothing. Now he’s sad and irritated.

“Is that comfortable?” Minho asks approaching the table. He’s arrived for today’s session but didn’t expect to find Yoongi crying on the table.

Yoongi doesn’t move, he only sighs in more frustration because he didn’t realize what time it was. He didn’t realize he’d been on the table crying for 3 hours.

“What’s going on?” Minho asks softly.

Yoongi shakes his head. He doesn’t want to talk. If he opens his mouth he won’t be able to speak through the sobs.

“Did something happen?”

Yoongi shakes his head again.

“Can you tell me what you’re feeling right now?”

Yoongi opens his mouth but no sound comes out. He doesn’t know how to describe what he’s feeling, he just knows he wants a drink.

“I-I…” Yoongi stutters. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. “I can’t do this.”

“Why?” Minho asks.

“I let her down too much. I can’t go back home to her.”

“I thought you wanted to do this so you could be what you feel she deserves.”

“I do, I just…I’m going to find a way to fuck it up again. She doesn’t deserve that. She deserves someone that will be by her side and take care of her. Not someone who will drink himself stupid and cheat on her.”

“Has she told you these things?”

“Come on,” Yoongi scoffs. “She’s not going to actually say something like that. She’d be too afraid to. Even if she hated me she wouldn’t hurt my feelings. I know that much, and that’s why she deserves better.”

“Are you wanting to end your relationship with her?” Minho asks placing a hand on Yoongi’s arm.

“No…I mean no…she…” Yoongi sputters.

“You think she deserves better, and you think you wouldn’t be it for her. That sounds like you want to at least end your romantic relationship with her, right?”

Yoongi lets out a pained wail and begins sobbing heavily. His chest is burning and it’s excruciating.

He just wants a damn drink.

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