#that sounds weird but you know what I mean ig

[badbatch-badfics]

Tech x Male Mandalorian Reader; Kar'taylir Darasuum Gar

Characters: Mainly Tech, little snippets of the rest of the Batch.

Relationship: All platonic buddies, except for Tech near the end.

POV: 2nd (you/yours)

Pronouns: He/him

Species: Unmentioned, but you have a normal "human" head (so no horns, lukku, etc.)

Content: Angst to fluff, get really hurt (literally) and then comfort. You're an idiot who can't confess unless their life depends on it.

Warnings: Description of injury and cleaning wounds(ish). Some throwing up blood ig. Cringe lol

Notes: Fem aligned and/or women can interact, but please be respectful. This is a MLM x reader fic. Don't be weird. Thanks. "Kar'taylir darasuum gar" means "love you" in Mando'a- I couldn't find the equivalent for "I."

Word count: 5,364

You sat in the co-pilot’s chair, arms crossed and leaning back.  Tech sat in the pilot’s chair, tinkering with some self-made miniature droid.  Everyone else was asleep, Echo in his hammock, Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair each in their respective bunks.  The ship was decently quiet, except for Wrecker’s occasional snoring, which, honest to Kad Ha'rangir, sounded like a Venator class star-destroyer powering up.  Contrasting the man’s tremendous snores, the hyper-drive produced a nice and constant low hum, with beeps sounding out every once in a while.  Tech’s screws and wrenches would clang out, and the sound of sparks would startle you into a more awake state each time it occurred.

Although there was no way he could know, seeing as your helmet was facing directly out the view-port, you were staring from the corner of your eyes.  Hard.  The way he effortlessly moved his fingers across the droid, connecting and severing wires from point A to point B, or how the golden sparks would illuminate his face and reflect off his goggles, casting a beautiful glow that you simply couldn’t get enough of.  Truthfully, you couldn’t have been more grateful for your helmet and culture, knowing full well he would have caught on to your… tendencies, and quick, if you didn’t wear it- bearing all your embarrassing expressions out to the world.

You knew it was bad to be feeling like this.  They were in the middle of war, which was no time for romantic relationships.  And, truthfully, you didn’t even know if Tech, or anyone else, liked you.  For all you knew, they simply had high tolerance for annoyingly secretive men they were assigned to work with.  You had always avoided questions about the culture you grew up with, obviously always avoided taking off your helmet, and hardly took off any of your armor- even when it came time to sleep.  Which must have been unsettling for them, or anyone, really, you were sure.  Someone who was highly skilled in fighting, but never took anything off, always electing to remain in the armor that was most certainly not a comfort to sleep in.  And, clearly, the fact that, out of nowhere, the Republic had hired and assigned you to them.  They had every reason not to trust you- or to, at the least, not like you.

And you had no clue what to do to lessen that mistrust.  Telling them about your culture was out of the question- you couldn’t deal with the…issues revolving when, if at all, anyone would be close enough to take off your helmet.  they might think they were close enough, but you didn’t.  Or, even worse, you might think you were close enough, but they didn’t.  And, Kriff, if they caught on to you hypothetically taking off your helmet more around Tech than the others, they would easily piece together your feelings.

But, hey, maybe you were wrong.  Maybe they found you at least somewhat amusing, somewhat useful, somewhat not a nuisance.  And maybe, just maybe, Tech would even feel the same way.  Doubtful, but since when was love logical?  A beep came through, pulling you out of the deep pits of overthinking and alerting Tech.  He lifted up his head, temporarily setting down the project.  Tracing his fingers over the wheel and control-panel.  “We have almost arrived.  Would you go and wake up everyone?”

You stood up, stretching your arms as far as they could go, audibly groaning.  “Sure thing, boss.”  You first walked to Echo, shaking him gently.  He was an easy sleeper, after everything.  Hunter could sleep well once he was in it, but otherwise, his enhanced senses made it difficult.  Crosshair was easy enough, not incredibly difficult, but you wouldn’t wake him up by simply walking around either.  Wrecker, on the other hand, slept like a rock.  You found out within the first week of your stay that his brothers would simply punch Wrecker in the shoulder, hard, to wake him up.  Hunter had explicitly granted you permission to do the same.

That being said, you wound up your arm before slugging Wrecker square in the shoulder, earning a startled grunt from him.  Once he registered what was happening, he lopsidedly smiled and mumbled a good morning of sorts.  After the four men were awake, you headed back to the cockpit, electing a chair further in the back so they could all sit closer- a common practice.  Hunter gave the mission debrief- same old, same old.  Just beat up a bunch of droids, and nothing special about this mission.  Echo and Hunter had a smaller, but more advanced battalion of droids to defeat within the building, so they needed to go radio-silent.  Crosshair and Wrecker would take a larger battalion, as would you and Tech.  After everyone was 100% certain in their role, everyone split up.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Kriff, this was not going well.  Blaster fire everywhere, explosions left and right, and the only Batch member you could see was Tech, double-blasting his way through any droid he saw.  You used a batch of whistling birds, each miniature missile hitting its mark.  Not that the few dozen marks did much damage against the entire droid battalion circling you two.  You reached for the pouch on your hip, which carried the multitude of bombs and droid poppers necessary for war.  Much to your dismay, there was only one bomb left.  And for better or worse, it was a giant bomb.  It would be incredibly difficult to evade- for both you and the droids.  It was designed with the intent of being far above the enemy- not 10 feet away from them.  But this was your only chance- if you could pair the main explosion and send out half a dozen droid poppers while the rest of them were distracted- it would be a victory.  And perhaps if you could run fast enough, dive, and get as many droids behind you to take the majority of the impact- perhaps you’d make it out relatively unscathed.

And, not that in a million light years would you ever admit it, the most important part- Tech would be safe if you pulled off this stunt.  You’d be able to get rid of at least one third of the droids with the large bomb alone, and sending out droid poppers in every direction during that opening would eliminate, at minimum, three quarters of the remaining droids.  All in all, Tech would have only a handful of clankers left, he would be safe, and the mission objective would be claimed as a victory.  Might as well.

“Run south!” you shouted over the blaster fire, instructing Tech.  For a split second he thought to question you, but decided against it.  He knows what he’s doing, and there’s no time to object, he concluded.  Tech sent a nod your way before running, still blasting his way through what was close.  As soon as he was out of range, you pulled the bomb from the waist pouch.  Maker, did you hope this will work.  You stared at the bomb, hoping you would be shown mercy, as if the bomb was a sentient being capable of choosing who to blast and who to not.  With a remorseful sigh, already having spent too long wondering and not doing, you reared your arm back and threw the ball as far as physically capable.

As soon as the sphere of mass destruction left your hand, you bolted- sending out droid poppers in different directions every few seconds, hoping to any god or higher being that they would take the majority of the impact, and not you.

Unfortunately, any and all higher beings seemed to be tastefully against you today.  You felt the heat and force before you heard it.  A stinging sensation sprung throughout your entire body, sending you crashing forward, groaning.  Apparently, you were not far away enough, and there were not enough droids to take the majority of the impact.  Kriff.  There was an excruciating ringing in your ears, or head-?  You weren’t sure, but it was loud and annoying as hell.  The last droid popper rolled from your palm, effectively killing off the half-dozen clankers headed over.

Although it was primarily obscured by the horrendous ringing in your ears, you could pick up faint sounds of blaster fire and metallic bodies hitting the ground.  You shakily got on your hands and knees, one arm clenched tightly over the stomach region, and lifted your head, groaning.  Although it was incredibly difficult to make out in this delirious state, you saw Tech running towards you.  He’s safe, was all you could think.  The mission was a success and he was safe, what else could someone ask for?  With that, there was no longer any reason to stay awake.

You promptly collapsed onto the cold ground, rolling over, hand still clutched.  You were coughing up blood, which just fell back down to your helmet and mouth, casing your cheeks and lips.  “Y/N!” Tech yelled, attempting to keep you awake and responsive- not his most successful attempts. You felt him lift your body upwards, examining the damage.  A shattered off droid piece had pierced through your abdomen, front to back.  Blood coated your armor, turning it from (color) to a dark ugly mess of browns and reds.  His eyes trailed over you, ever worried.  He and his brothers had never faced such an extreme injury, except for Wrecker’s large scar on his head.

“I need to take off your helmet.  I can hear you coughing up blood,” Tech informed.  You attempted to push him off, delirious of the extremity of the situation.  You were not ready to cross that bridge yet.  Tech felt bad, he did.  Even though he couldn’t possibly understand why a culture would not allow someone to simply remove a helmet, he would respect it, and he would respect you.  But in a situation like this, it truly didn’t matter.  If your helmet didn’t come off, you'd drown in your own blood before dying of the shrapnel was even a possibility.

“That was not a request, it was me informing you of what I’m going to do.”  You wanted to give him a smart-ass response, truly, but you couldn’t speak coherently, let alone think of one.  Accepting defeat in this minor battle, your head lolled back into his palm, coughing once again.  He placed his hand under your chin, just on the edge of the helmet, and carefully lifted.  The helmet hissed as he pulled it off, and your eyes squinted harshly at the bright light, now surrounding you from all sides, not just the visor.  This was not how you wanted him to see your face.

Tech grimaced.  Clear from the blood and sweat caking your mouth and cheeks, you had already coughed up a large amount of blood, and he highly doubted it’d be stopping anytime soon.  “Okay…I’m going to move you to that rock over there- you need to be more vertical than horizontal if I am to treat your injuries.”  A mumble was the only response he got.  Tech put his hand on your back, roping underneath your arm.  Using his other arm to support your lower back, he lifted, and despite all his effort in being gentle, it didn’t do much.  Even though the rock in question was only, at most, twenty feet away, it seemed like an impossible task.

With each step, despite Tech supporting the majority of your weight, it felt like another piece of droid shrapnel shooting though you.  Everything became more fuzzy by the second, dizziness overcoming you.  “We are almost there,” he said, observant of your worsening state.  After what felt like an eternity, you had arrived at the large rock.  He turned you around and gently placed you on the rock, blood coating his armor.

Reaching to his waist pockets, Tech pulled out a pair of tweezers, a large roll of bandages, and bacta-spray.  “I will cut space around your chest plate and clothing.  Do not move.”  You groaned, looking up at the sun.  Perhaps you shouldn’t have done the “throw a bomb and hope you outrun it to save someone else’s skin” plan.  Now you’d need a new chest plate and under-armor clothing.  Fantastic.  Tech pulled out a new set of tools, all to cut the chest plate.  Luckily, the hole was jagged and cracked, so finding a good place to further the diameter would not be incredibly difficult.

Tech carefully pulled out bits of the chest plate, making the hole larger by the second.  Unfortunately, him cutting that close, despite his best efforts, still applied far more pressure than you would like on your wound.  It was not a pleasant experience, to say the least.

“I am finished cutting around the front of your chest plate,” he said, breaking the tense silence.

“Okay…” you breathed out, voice shaky and dry.  He looked at you with pity before quickly tearing through the cloth, all too close to the droid bit.  He noticed your extreme uncomfort, face scrunched up, trying not to cry.  He felt pity towards you, but there was no time for any of that.  If he wasn’t quick and adequate, you could very well die.  Tech’s point was emphasized by another fit of blood coming up, some blood dripping on his armor as your head came forward.

He grimaced, using his thumb in a feeble attempt to wipe off the new blood.  “Can you lean forward while I cut open your back?” he asked, unsure whether or not it would be required to fully turn you around.  “Mhm…I think I can manage,” you mumbled, barely above a whisper and hardly intelligible.  You rocked forward, arms outstretched to hold up your weight.  Tech carefully moved behind you before repeating the process.

Eventually, Tech deemed the cloth and armor to be far away enough from the droid.  He would pull out the droid, then fully take off your armor and clothing, apply bacta-spray, and wrap you up.  Once you were on the ship, he could dig out any excess sharpanel.  Then everything would be fine.  He concluded that the best way to get it out was to not let you know.  He deduced that you were, more than likely, not thinking rationally- and even if you were injured, you were still heavily trained, and he didn’t want to risk you trying to push him off if there was a warning for what was to come.  To be fair, doing it suddenly would surprise you, which wouldn’t be much better, but your reaction time was certainly delayed, so it was still the best option.

“Lean back.”  You obliged, hitting the back of the rock and letting your head fall backwards.  While you were still looking upwards, he gripped the droid piece with both hands.  Pulling hard was most certainly not the best option, but he had already spent too much time clearing the space, and there was no equipment for performing the removal in a safe manner.  You would have to deal with it.

Tech pulled on the droid, and he pulled hard.  Your eyes went wide, and you lurched forward, hands grasping at the wound.  Short, ragged breaths filled the sound of the field, paired with the metallic clattering of the droid being tossed aside.  Tech cupped your face in his hands, looking into your eyes.  If you weren’t in so much agony, you would’ve been a flustered, blubbering mess.  “Hold still and do exactly as I tell you.  I need to dig out the smaller shrapnel, but the bleeding must stop soon.  There can be no distractions.”

At this point, you could hardly respond, choking on any words you attempted to form.  Now that the droid was removed, Tech could slip your chest plate off.  “Put your arms up and do not take them down until both your chest plate and clothing have been removed.”  Vision blurry and shaky, you lifted your arms despite them feeling like a hundred pounds each.  Quickly, Tech pulled up on your chest plate, immediately discarding it among the other debris in the field.  Following immediately after, he lifted up your shirt, slightly more conscious of the injury since the cloth was brushing directly against it.

As soon as he finished discarding your shirt, your hands fell limp once again, and you collapsed onto the rock.  Tech quickly doused the affected area with bacta-spray, not particularly caring if it got it more space than needed.  He needed to be quick, and there would be more time later to fix everything.  He positioned himself behind you, legs wrapped around to give you support as he cleaned the back, making sure to wipe off any large chunks of dirt or pieces of rock.  After your back and front were successfully doused in bacta, he re-positioned himself and you.

He moved about two feet away from the rock, legs straddling your waist.  He had turned you around, eyes meeting each other once more.  Your arms were gripping his shoulders, shaking with every breath.  Tech carefully reached around and grabbed the bandages, unfurling them.  He started at your waistline, moving upwards with each layer of binding.  He would carefully glance over your shoulder and angle himself to see your back to ensure it was all going smoothly- or, at least, as smooth as something like this could go.  The bandages had finally reached above your wound, before reaching over your shoulder for extra support and coming back down for a double layer.  Despite the wrappings having been on for less than ten minutes, the blood was already tainting the once white fabric.

“I am finished,” Tech spoke, finishing off the last layer and grabbing your waist to pull you closer.  He carefully grabbed his comm to relay his position and the situation to the rest of the Batch.  He knew it would have been useless to comm beforehand, as Hunter and Echo were radio-silent while Wrecker and Crosshair were dealing with a smaller squadron of droids.  But now that you were safe- or as safe as possible considering everything- and the rest of the Batch had their objectives completed, he could call them.

“Hunter, I need a pickup at the valley in between the two ridges where the droid squadron was.  Immediately- (Y/N) has been injured.  I have applied bacta and bandages, but it is not adequate.  We must get to proper medical care as quickly as possible.”

“Got it, Tech.  We’re on our way, just hang on,” Hunter replied, voice glitchy and faded out through the comm.  Tech pulled you closer, your head resting on his shoulder.  He placed his hands on your infraspinatus, rubbing small circles in them repeatedly.  The telltale humming of the Marauder approached, blocking out the sun and casting a shadow over the field.  The ship turned to its side before touching down about ten feet away, ramp opening.  Wrecker ran out, panic clearly written on his face.  He slowed down as he approached you, face falling more by the second.

“Wrecker, be careful around his abdomen, that is where the implication occurred.  Do not run or jostle (Y/N) too much, he can not sustain any more injuries than what he already has.”  Wrecker nodded in understanding before gently picking you up, hands under your thighs.  He placed your head in the crook of his neck, out of respect for you never taking off the helmet and hiding your face.  Your arms were draped over his back, bouncing with each step he took, despite the effort to be more gentle.

With a tired groan, you lifted your head up, eyes peering over Wreckers shoulder to be met with Tech’s.  He had stood up and taken off his helmet, the light gray armor tainted and stained with your blood.  You felt the incline of the ramp as Wrecker entered the Marauder, and the sounds of scattered feet and clattering could be heard.  Shortly after Wrecker had entered the ship, Tech followed suit, your helmet and chest plate in hand.  “Tech, what’s the deal with (Y/N)?  What do we need to do?”

“(Y/N) threw a bomb which effectively killed off the majority of the droid army, but was hit with debris in his escape.  He was regurgitating blood and had a large piece of a droid lodged in his abdomen.  I…have cleaned the wound, albeit quickly and not as efficiently as I would have hoped.  Clearly, I have bandaged him and removed the primary source of implication, but did not have time to adequately search through for smaller pieces of shrapnel.  We should not remove his bandages until we are on Kamino.  Someone should be watching him for the duration of the trip until we arrive, and we should attempt to minimize his sleeping until he has proper medical care.”

As Tech explained the situation, Wrecker re-positioned you into a more “bridal style” carrying, before gently setting you down on his bed and slipping his arms out from underneath you, all while avoiding your face.  Your head was propped up on Lula, and Wrecker draped a blanket over your body, the edge draping off the bunk.  He stood still for a second, glancing around nervously.  Tech came up behind him, placing a hand on Wrecker’s shoulder.  “Go in the cock-pit and help with the course.  I will stay here to ensure everything is alright.  There is no need to worry.  If I do require aid, I will request it.”  Wrecker glanced past his shoulder at his brother, sending a short smile of thanks before hurrying off to the cock-pit.  Tech carefully sat down on the edge of Wrecker’s bed, just beside your feet.  The bed made a small creaking noise and dipped ever so slightly.  Tech sighed, back slouching.  He glanced once more at your form, eyebrows furrowed.  You two would be having quite the serious conversation later.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hunter walked up to the bunk, staring before finally saying something.  “Tech- we’re coming into Kamino.  Take the wheel and comm in (Y/N)’s situation.  I’ll get him prepped and Wrecker will carry him till the medical team shows up.”  Tech nodded in agreement and stood up, walking to the cock-pit.  Hunter glanced down at you, avoiding your face.  He had a few of his spare bandannas in hand, ready to wrap up the majority of your face out of respect.  It wouldn’t be perfect by any means, but any face covering would be better than nothing for you, he reasoned.  Trying his best not to look, Hunter lifted up your head and placed four bandannas on it- two on your forehead, and just one each for your nose bridge and chin.  As soon as your face was covered, he re-angled himself to tie the knot behind your head.

After your face was covered as well as anyone would do while still minimizing the risk of further complications, he carefully pulled the blanket away and lifted you up, cautious of the injury.  He stayed with you until Wrecker and Tech came, the ship having landed.  “There should be medical personnel on their way.  I requested that a droid be the one to attend to (Y/N)’s injuries, but whether or not they listened is… uncertain,” Tech said, glancing over at you, worry evident by the slight crease in his eyes and furrow of his eyebrows.  Hunter was slightly surprised at his brother’s concern for your culture.  There was no reason to explicitly request for a droid, but he did so nonetheless.  Usually, Tech would not have cared for such things- so long as the objective was completed and no-one was severely harmed, what did it matter if some cultural lines were crossed?

Hunter’s thoughts were interrupted by Wrecker picking you up bridal style once again, head draped back and arms dangling.  His loud stomps echoed through the metal corridor, and it was all Tech could focus on.  Which had never happened before- just focusing on one thing and one thing alone.  But here he was, watching Wrecker exit the Marauder, you in hand- unclear if you would survive, and the only thing he was aware of was the echoing of Wrecker’s footsteps, you disappearing along with them.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tech waited anxiously outside the med-bay door, leg bouncing up and down.  The halls were quiet and deserted, only a lone wandering Kaminaon or clone every dozen or so minutes.  Tech didn’t know if he preferred the silence or the possibility of crowded and loud halls, people shoving past each other non-stop.  He was fairly sure they were both equally terrible options.  Hunter had stayed with him a while, but he needed to get back to the rest of the squad- Tech didn’t blame him.  He held your helmet in his hands, looking over every detail- every mark, burn, dent, scratch, paint chip, design and patterns and colors- everything.  Although, logically, he knew it was very likely that either you or one of his brothers, or himself, would die in this line of work, knowing about it didn’t quite reach the same levels as nearly experiencing it.

The doors slid open, AZ emerging.  Tech immediately sat straight up, more alert than ever.  Before he could even begin asking questions, AZ began speaking.  “(Y/N) (L/N) will fully recover within about 8 rotations.  He is no longer bleeding and all sharnale has been removed and the wound has been treated.  He is to remain on bed-rest until I give the say so.”  Tech didn’t even bother to respond, all he could do was practically jump into the room and land beside your bed.  You looked up at him, trying your best to smile- he was not amused.  In fact, Tech was at a loss for words.  Tech was never at a loss for words.

Actually, scratch all of that.  Tech had an abundance of words for you.  That much was obvious by the way his face went from “soft and glad you were okay” to his signature “are you kriffing kidding me?” look with an extra splash of anger.  Your smile immediately fell.

“What were you thinking- I mean, you decided to throw a bomb which you had no chance of outrunning and for what?  That was the most illogical and poorly thought out plan I have ever seen, and I have seen some very stupid things.”  It was clear he had more to say, but he figured he’d save it for another time.  Tech glared at you for a second longer before pulling up a chair beside the bed.

He let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “You…are intelligent enough to have realized the risks.  Just explain why you took such… idiotic ones.”

Silence.  “I…I figured that if… you could get out of range, that would be enough.  I would throw the bomb and get far away enough to survive, taking out any more droids in the escape.  Then, you’d be… fine.  I mean, the odds weren’t exactly in our favor, Tech- we were losing that battle- hard.  We’d probably both be dead if I hadn’t done what I did.”  Tech glanced down, thinking over your words.  As much as he hated to admit it- you were right.  There may have been another way he would’ve come up with to save your hides, but at the moment- your actions did save them.

“I… am sorry I saw your face.  Although I do not understand why a culture would prohibit someone from showing their face- I respect you, and so I do apologize.  If it is any consolation, I requested droids only for the medical staff, and Hunter had wrapped up your face as much as he could.  Nobody really saw your face- just small fragments of it- except for me, obviously.”

You were silent, bandaged and calloused hands wringing around each other.  “It’s… it’s alright.  In my Clan, you are allowed to take off your helmet with… certain people.  Those you consider… close.  You can take off the helmet around those types of people.”  You glanced up, eyes just barely meeting.  He gulped nervously.  No-one outside of his brothers had ever considered him close- and if his hypothesis was right- this type of “close” you were describing was most certainly new- not the type of bond one shares with his brothers.

“Are you… implying that you have a romantic interest in me, (Y/N)?” Tech asked cautiously, as though each word represented him taking another step closer to the edge of a thousand-foot drop.

“Is that alright?” you asked tentatively, turning to properly face him, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

“Well… it is not standard military protocol to… intermingle.”  Your gaze fell downwards, grimacing.  So much for a confession.

Then he continued.  “But we have never been ones to follow protocol.”  Your mouth went slightly agape, and you looked back up at him.  Your eyes met each other, and he smiled.  He didn’t smile often.  Tech reached out hesitantly and grabbed your hand, rubbing circles in it.  You placed your free hand on his, like a weird romantic sandwich, and let your head fall back, closing your eyes in satisfaction.

“Y’know- if I knew all it would take to confess and know you reciprocated was to have a near-death experience, I would've done it way before.”

Tech jumped back slightly- “‘All it would take?’” he asked, mocking you.  His eyes were wide in disbelief at your disregard for such an event.  His face was absolutely golden, and you started laughing- evidently, far too much since within a few seconds you were clutching your side in pain.  Tech now wore a mixture of his “I told you so” and “that was not amusing” faces, judging you heavily.

"Regardless, AZ informed me that you would need an 8-day bed rest.  And as you do not contain your own proper sleeping area, you may share with me.  This way I can closely monitor you at the same time.  It will be greatly beneficial.”

You cocked your eyebrow, looking directly at him.  “If you wanted to cuddle, you could’ve just said so.”

“If you are to keep up this behavior in my sleeping quarters, I will not hesitate to kick you out- both figuratively and literally.  Perhaps I’ll just make your “visiting time” as terrible as possible.  I am not above such actions.”  You scoffed at him, rolling your eyes in a playful manner.

“Here- I made certain that I had kept your helmet.  The chest plate was practically unsalvageable, but it is currently on the Marauder.  Although you are… comfortable without it around me, it seems, I assumed you would want it for the walk back.  Am I correct?”

“You're always correct, and you know that.  Thank you, Tech.”  You carefully slid the detailed helmet on your head, somewhat sad.  Although it was clear that you would need to wear it in the halls and in front of his brothers, you still felt sad you two couldn’t enjoy more time, faces and secrets and emotions and everything exposed for the better.  You let the brief moment of sadness wash over- it was better to be grateful.  I mean, Tech reciprocated!  You couldn’t have asked for anything better.

“Let me assist you in getting up- you are most certainly not fit to walk by yourself,” he said.  You obliged, his arms coming up underneath your armpits and hauling you off the bed.  You quickly found your grounding, and swung an arm around Tech’s shoulders.  You two trudged down the long and barren halls of Kamino until reaching your designated barracks, pausing slightly at the door.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt such joy.  You looked at Tech, dark visor meeting his yellow-orange tinted goggles.  “Kar'taylir darasuum gar.”  Tech knew what it meant.  He didn’t need his fancy language visor to tell him what you said.  You loved him and he loved you.  And that’s all that really mattered.  He smiled at you once more before the door opened, Wrecker immediately shouting in joy that you were safe and sound.  Everything would be alright from here on out, war be damned.

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[sisterlyintimacy]

What I find interesting is that Tegan only talks about Sid as "Sara's baby" or "Sara's kid" and never as my nephew, or I'm an aunt now. How do you think Tegan is dealing with this whole situation considering quincest?

I’m thinking she might be referring to him as Sara’s kid for the same reason she calls Sara Sara and not my sister when she’s talking about her

I think she’s dealing with the situation pretty well, but she probably misses having alone time with Sara

#ask #anon #quincest #I expect she’ll call him her nephew when he grows older and really becomes his own person #honestly can’t wait for him to be old enough to decide to be a public person #that sounds weird but you know what I mean ig #if he wants to of course

[malkaviian]

im home earlier than i thought

#i can actually work on things yay. at least one of them #for the mav and samael story i will rewrite the first chapter #bc i think starting with mav having One of Those breakdowns bc of what happened with zachary its not the best way #i think its better to start the story showing his Unconventional Desires and Fantasies about being murdered as violently as possible #and then explain whats the reason behind them later; when the readers have an idea of who he is. and maybe wonder why hes like that #or if hes weird just because something is wrong with his brain (i mean something is def wrong with him either way. #but did something happened for him to end this way or it just happened without something being a direct cause?) #at least i didnt even got to the midpoint; i only had ~800 words. which is kind of a win for me tbh i havent write shit in months #let alone this thing is out of my comfort zone for a lot of reasons; starting with the fact its not a fanfic and everything belongs to me #and i havent touched a subject this sensitive like a p4r4philia before. of course i did my research but tbf there isnt a lot on this one #so im trying not to sound completely uninformed; just that i couldnt really find a whole lot of research on this #bc it doesnt exist on the first place. the closest is lopatka's clase; which i've read what i could find about already; its not a whole lot #anyway i am afraid of getting hate comments. something something i am romanticizing a serious subject #something something i am portraying this as a love story (im not; if the characters think so its another thing) so i must be fucked up irl #something something 'this is fucked up and doesnt cater to my direct tastes; therefore is bad and you are bad too' #of course i will put warnings but you know how people are. and if they report the story wattpad could actually take it down #a bummer but. whatever. i always have ao3 but i will have to do an extra step and translate it to english #alongside having 0 audience there. well shit just happens ig lol #this turned into a rant sorry #lilith whispers

[n0ct0urn1quet]

@vergildotcom ggehhege. lobly beloby,,,,,,,

#i love calling you that #my lobly beloby!!!!!!!!!!!! #my wifey :] #my scrimbly bimbly !!!!! bumbly wumbly :] #also sorey for not rly gaypostimbg much lately i am . Ggrgh #donot hav............tha enegry.......................... hrrhoughgh............................... #but !!!!! i stil loby u :] #i care u and i kis u and i loby u......... u ar my wife :] *mmmweeh* (das a kis for u :]) #grrough i just want to snugl u rn bro i want to KIS u and SNUG u................. #wan to hold ur sof hans......................... n kisy ur cheek.............................. #hold u clos keep u warm.......... keep u comfie cosy <:] #i am just thinkging about snugying u and instead of just holding u around ur stomac like around ur shirt i coul jus #put my hans up ur shirt n hold u around ur stomac like that........ #idk just . something about !!!!!! actual physical contact like that . if that . makes sense ??? #like actual skin contact ig . i know that sounds weird thats a weird way to put it but you Get What I Mean #like idk i jus feel Closer that way yk what i mean..... #Actual Physical Contact Like That just feels more intimate ig . gough i am so bad at wording things you GET what i mean though hopefully #i just !!!!!!!!!! want to hold u around ur soft tumy bro #i wana kis it !!!!!! #and i just want to kis...........u!!!!!!!!!!! #on da mouth!!!!!!!!! and on ur cheek and forehead n neck and all thos other places bro!!!!!!!!!!!!! #cause i just lov u!!!!!!!!!! #i am fuckimg yearning i am so desperate for physical affection oh my god!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #i wanna hold u and kis u and keep u safe and cossy!!!!!!!!!!!!! hbhjdfblkh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #but ykno whats ebic bro............................even tho we mite not b able to Visit each other...........we'll stil liv together soone. #i didnt mean to end that with a period that sounded rly menacing whoops KJSDJKLG #anyways we'll liv together soon bro #idk when !!!!!! prolly in a few years or so.............. 2 or 3 perhaps............. #i mean idk mayb we will visit soon!!!!! idk!!!!! it rly depends on. yknow. rob. n when she's leavin n stuff......... so it mtie be a while #but STILL one day i WILL hug u and i WILL hold u and i WILL kis u and do all thos things bro....... we jus gota b patiemt........

[80zgf]

i’ve had this extra shitty feeling lingering over me all semester and it’s doing such a fantastic job at getting the best of me. my friend group since the first year keeps proving time and time again they care more about each other even when i go out of my way to make sure they’re alright and make sure everybody else avoids things that would upset others. feelings get hurt a lot otherwise. a few nights back i took my a few of my friends out to eat and pay for part of their meals (context: my dad’s boss gets tipped through gift cards sometimes and he gave me a few so it wasn’t exactly out of my pocket). i told my best friend i haven’t been really been feeling my best so to take it easy on me since our other two friends have been deeply upsetting me all week by saying genuinely hurtful shit. and then in the middle of a very stressful meal he started telling me about how his sister’s boyfriend was saying weird shit abt me and her boyfriend doesn’t like me (i have never had a proper conversation with either one of these people) and i ended up fucking bawling lmfaoooo. i guess my friends froze because i’m the “tough friend” so i’m not allowed to cry but it ended up with in me comforting them which is so odd? i get not everyone you encounter will be your #1 fan but if someone pulls you aside and says hey man i haven’t been feeling great lately why would you say that at that time ??? lmfao

(goes without saying but d-on.t r.-b pls)

#had to censor that bcuz people will specifically do otherwise if you don’t #sorry for venting on main i just feel so alone #one of my friends is very sensitive to music in restaurants so half the meal i had to worry about finding someone who could lower it #i’m not even this drastic people pleaser i just hate seeing people distressed #and it’s so funny because a couple days prior we all had a talk abt not having to tell people everything others say abt them #one of my friend’s toxic exes was saying SUPER weird shit about all of us without even getting to know us and she randomly told us all of #-it #in the middle of hanging out #that didn’t get me as much as this did. bcuz like i said. i didn’t want to go already and talked to him in advance #i’m not looking for pity. just wanna get it out so maybe i stop thinking about it #health wise i have not been doing great and i probably need surgery so everything else is stressing me out so much more because of that #i need a new group because this isn’t the first time this happened #thanks for reading if you did and sorry about typos #💋.txt #if this all sounds bitchy and complainy. my bad #my friends have a history of doing things without me that i have planned when i have literally been in the hospital LOL #no one needs to revolve their life around me. just me and acknowledge me #i feel like i sound really annoying but w/e ig #there are probably better more accurate ways to describe what i mean but 🤷

[snekdood]

ig my biggest issue with fandoms is the almost... false closeness thats there in them? ig since i was a kid and wasnt good at enforcing boundaries and was just excited to find ppl with the same interest I didn't really think about it but be real like, there was a vibe that it was "okay" and "fine" to expose a lot about ourselves to eachother that... i think if we knew eachother irl... we'd hafta be a lot closer than that to see or hear about that stuff...

#like ig am i the only one who thinks its kinda weird when ppl would pass fanfics around?? #ig its just kinda normal now or whatever but think about it. youd hafta be closer friends with someone- besides just sharing an interest- #to see their slash fics right?? doesnt it seem kinda weird that ppl used to be so willing to toss that out there #ig the level of anonymity helps but my point isnt rly about the fics so much as it is... sharing information thats personal to you #i definitely didnt know how to assert boundaries as a kid- like i just didnt know it was an option for me to be like 'no i dont want to do #that' -wow that sounds really fucked up outloud huh! #ig my autonomy was taken from me so much as a kid i kinda just assumed i wasnt the one who got a lot of choices #and no one really taught me enough about internet safety .-. my mom did once but... she didnt push very hard #and that ended me up in a lot of shitty situations- like on here. how i posted a pic of myself when i was a fuckin child #sexualizing myself and some adult commented something suggestive back to me and ig i just. thought i had to accept the situation #like i just. thought it was ok to happen. ig since i had so many ppl rob me of my bodily autonomy before that it just seemed normal #or at the very least it was something i couldnt change so i didnt try and at the time figured i had to accept as normal #and since no one intervened to tell me what any of those ppl did to me was wrong i just. didnt think about how it effected me or if that #even mattered #so why is my life so dark exactly whys it gotta be like this tho #ig its kinda hypocritical of me to post this. i mean i use my account as like a diary sometimes or that im just yelling into the void lol #but thats also kinda because of all of this honestly. i think i realized i didnt want it to be that way for a while and stopped #but after all the shit with my abuser on here its like.. i feel like i cant not be as open as i am? #idk its like... a testimony or something ig. idk how to describe it. ig i just feel like ill always hafta be defending myself online from #everything. and if i dont talk about every little thing that makes me fucked up then people wont leave me tf alone about shit i cant contro #or change. like i cant go back in the past and not do whatever. but also as far as any actual harm ive done there isnt really... much there #ive had shitty ideas normalized to me sure but i dont really feel like i passed those ideas on to anyone really

[no-one-hears-me]

is there a scarier tumblr experience than watching one of your posts start to get notes

#it's exciting the first time it ever happens tbh #once it happens a few times you're just like ohhh no. cool ig #it depends on the posf tho #if it's a trauma post it's chill bc it will stay mostly within trauma blogs #if it's more general then you never know where it will end up #I actually don't care bc like. it's just tumblr idgaf #it just means people end up leaving weird replies sometimes #ALSO I put a lot of context and explanations in the tags of my posts while leaving the posts a little vague #so the post itself without context might sound different than I intended #but that's my own fault ig #not gonna stop tho #also I'm not saying what post inspired this rn #but like. it's happened before bc I have a few popular posts #I did see a ss of my post on instagram or tiktok one time idr #that was an interesting experience #bc it was a post from a few years ago #so I saw it and was like oh I've seen this before. oh actually I wrote it #anyways. it's chill tho I literally don't care if people rb my posts #if I cared I would make it so they couldn't be #but like. all my writing is in the tags so all posts can be rbd ig #idc #Sera

[a-kaash-me-outside]

˚₊‧ ᴡɪʟʟ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ᴄᴀsᴜᴀʟ ɴᴏᴡ? ‧₊˚

♡ ft. geto, toji, gojo, higuruma, nanami ♡ total wc: 10.9k // nsfw minors dni! // ♡ contents: ౨ৎ 𝑎 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 ౨ৎ, afab reader she/her pronouns, no smut in gojos or tojis im sorry, emotionally stunted men kinda but they grow isnt that nice (not talking abt higuruma and nanami god no), the aftermath of fwb caught feelings, consolation, emotional aftercare ig, lotta domestic fluff for higuruma and nanami's!!!! (everyone say ty @noosayog for nanami's bc she is the only reason i wrote his) ♡ listen along: casual by chappell roan ♡

- ᡣ𐭩 time passes and people change, and just because you fell first doesn't mean you don't get a happy ending + bonus continuation of higuruma's and nanami's ᡣ𐭩 -

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴇᴛᴏ [ 3 ʏᴇᴀʀs ]

on the list of people that you thought you’d see tonight, geto isn’t even in the top 100, not because of probability or likelihood, but solely based on the fact that you have not thought about this man in years. if you were asked the question from your future self, “holy shit, guess who we saw tonight?” you would’ve listed old friends, distant relatives, exes, minor celebrities, other flings, teachers from high school, people from stories you’ve only heard of, and then geto. 

after that night, you really didn’t see barely any of him. a few posts on your feed: one 2 weeks after and another 2 months after that one when you remembered that you forgot to unfollow him. once on campus: him across a million tables getting lunch with some girl too long after your little thing for you to care about who she was to him at all. once at a mutual (though you didn’t know was mutual at the time) friend’s party close to graduation: you ran into him grabbing a drink from the cooler and neither of you said a single word to each other, just exchanged a very knowing glance.

fast forward a handful of years, with geto not on your mind during a single one of them, and you’re stunned, nearly speechless, as you recognize him across the bar. the track of which your mind is racing takes you stop after stop to thoughts and feelings you didn’t really ask to experience. they follow a curving roadmap in your mind of: why is he here? ↝ wow, he looks great ↝ does he live nearby still? ↝ that’s weird ↝ no, it isn’t weird, i still live here ↝ then what are the fucking chances that he’s here ↝ no, seriously he looks so good

he looks different though, you realize about 3 minutes into sneaking glances in his direction, in some way that you just can’t put your finger on right now. in your slightly tipsy state, you barely stop to ask yourself how you even clocked that it was him so quickly, how there was no hesitance in the recognition or questioning in the placing. he looks really fucking good.

in fact, now that all of the obligatory thoughts have come to a heed, that’s really the only thing that you can think about. how good he looks.

the events that happened that ended your situationship all of those years ago are nothing but outlines now; whatever you said or he said just sounds like underwater conversations. you can see the way that you left and you remember being dumbfounded, but everything else has lost its sting, like a story you’d recall to a friend of a friend in a setting much like the one you’re in. time has handled the memory the way that time does and as a result, when the two of you finally make eye contact after what feels like an hour of missed mutual glances, you offer a small wave. a wave that says, “i remember only knowing you in past tense. we are such different people now, i wonder what it would’ve been like if we met now instead.”

the wave was the first step, technically, sure, but he makes the literal first step. he departs from the conversation he’s been enthralled with for as long as you’ve been stealing glances and he weaves between people in the middle of their own stories before ending up in front of you. 

when he does, he asks, as if he’s just randomly bumped into you rather than intentionally coming over, “shit… is that you?” he puts his hand on the back of your chair, thumb brushing your shoulder.

the friend that you’re with cocks their head, furrows their eyebrows, has no idea who this is or their connection to you, the timelines of their interactions with you spaced too far apart for one to know the other. geto notices this look, addresses it. “we used to…,” he pauses, “see each other? for a little bit.”

you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from your chest at the way he describes it. “yes, yes we did,” you nod. “back in college,” you explain a little further, “been a while.”

the interaction quiets, the two of you exchanging soft smiles instead of words, and your friend knows where this thing is going before either of you even do, so they bow their head, offer their seat to geto, and take their leave in the name of some bullshit excuse. he takes it without a second thought, asking you how you’ve been, laughing about the time that you saw each other at that party, and after an hour of just talking he says, “yeah, i actually thought about you the other day.”

you nearly choke on the drink he’s bought you. you rush to put it down. “you did?” you ask.

he nods. “i don’t even remember what prompted it. i think, maybe, i saw a photo of myself from college and how different i looked and how different i feel now and then just, out of nowhere, remembered how shitty i was to you.” 

you don’t say anything in return, running your finger around the lip of your glass as you stare at him. you don’t know how to say that you don’t care anymore, that you haven’t thought of those days in years, that the surprise that you displayed a few seconds ago was completely genuine, because you were so convinced that neither of you had. it comes out something like a shrug and, “we were practically kids.”

he answers so quickly, “well, kids or not, i’m sorry.”

you laugh, gently so he won’t think you’re laughing at his apology. really, you’re laughing at the notion of apologizing for an act that no longer warrants forgiveness. you laugh at the thought of giving it anyways. you place your hand on top of his on the edge of the bar. “thank you,” you nod. he nods back. 

when you let him take you back to his place for old times sake, you’re half-expecting the same person from the ghosts of memories from years ago, like all of the things he said at the bar were just a last ditch effort to usher the night in the exact direction that it’s heading in. 

but he’s different now, just like he said he was before he apologized, and you can feel it in his movements and his actions. more confident, more intentional. he kisses you first and it doesn’t taste selfish. it doesn’t feel rushed to get to the main event. he savors it, holds your head in his hands, and doesn’t touch a single other inch of your body until he’s found the right combination of fingertip pressure and tongue that has you melting into his palm.

your mind flickers to the notion that these actions might be pre planned because they feel so meticulous and thought out, but that impression quickly dissolves when he sinks inside of you, slowly, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he does, his hand reaching down to cup your cheek, fingers nearly trembling against your jaw when he presses his hips completely against the insides of your thighs. 

“shit,” he hisses, hands moving down to your waist, fingers light like feathers practically crawling against your skin, as if each print was so grateful it got to make contact with the softness below. when he grips into the fat of your hips, he’s careful, intentional or not, pressing his thumbs into the bone, but not letting his nails leave a single mark. it’s pressured, but comfortable. 

he holds you in place, slowly pulling his hips back and he can’t help but look down between your legs, watching himself disappear inside of you, a creamy mess at the base, shallow breaths recycled in his chest. 

“hey,” you say, eyes locked on the tenseness of his jaw and the way that he stops himself with sharp inhales. he finds your gaze in a second. “don’t hold out on me here.” you rest your arm on his bicep, fingers curling around wherever they can reach.

you can feel it under your palm, his muscle tensing as his pace picks up, rhythm consistent, but unrelenting. the breaths come out of you quickly and you’re unable to hold any sort of facade. “ah- shit, f-fuck,” you cry, “holy shit.” you squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing harshly as strangled noises leave you without vetting a single one.

“n-no,” you shake your head, regretting it instantly as he slows down in response. you shake your head harder, “no, don’t stop, but- ah,” you groan, “your- you were- i meant,” you exhale a laugh, “let me hear you.”

his eyes widen slightly as he processes what you want from him, and then he listens. he leans down to kiss your lips and then your cheek and then your jaw and then your ear. yes, he’s fucking you better than you’ve ever been fucked in your entire life, but that’s not what makes you crumble. no, it’s his grunts and pants and breathy groans pressed right up against your skin. 

you thread your fingers into his hair, twirling the ends of the locks between the tips, raking your nails down the base of his neck to the front, and then smoothing them down his chest. “more,” you mumble against him, and you’re not sure exactly what you mean, but he gives it to you, whatever it is. you’re certain he’d give you anything in the world right now if you just asked for it.

there’s a moment after when you’re lying there with him, shoulder pressed up against his, chest heaving, barely recovered, that you find yourself back in that college dorm. you don’t know why the tightness is rising in the hollow below your sternum, but it is. you remind yourself that you weren’t expecting anything from this anyway, so it doesn’t matter, but it does. you’re not sure if you just don’t want to be treated like that again or if it has something to do with geto being the one lying beside you. 

when you turn your head to face him, he’s already looking at you. he doesn’t shy away in embarrassment, like it’s wrong that he’d be gazing at you after all of that. his features are steady, confident, strong. he smiles softly, brings his hand up to cup your cheek. “should we get breakfast in the morning?”

in the morning, you repeat in your head. you wait a beat, trying to come up with something to say, to proceed with caution or to discern his intentions or to at least not sound desperate, but all that comes out is, “in the morning?” 

he nods, turning on his side so he can stare at you without his neck getting sore. he inches closer to you, kissing the top of your shoulder and then your temple. he drapes his arm over your stomach. “if that’s okay with you,” he says and then kisses you again.

“okay,” you nod back, lazy smile on your lips, eyelids heavy at the warmth surrounding you now as he pulls you closer to him. “yeah, sure,” you affirm, voice so soft and airy that the tightness in your chest is lifted away with the words, all that’s left is a hope you feel comfortable letting stick around.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴏᴊɪ [ 3 ᴍᴏɴᴛʜs ]

you are not expecting anyone. you have resigned yourself to a nice pair of pajamas and comfy socks and a warm cup of tea and a spot in the living room that you will only leave for a refill and bathroom breaks. you are tucked into the corner of your couch, back pressed up against the sturdy arm, legs crossed, and a throw blanket over your lap.

you are not expecting anyone, so the sound at the door should have felt a lot more jarring. well, it is jarring for a second, a few seconds actually, the echoing disruption bouncing off of the walls of your living room and back to you, but then the noises repeat themselves, like they’re on a looping track, and you realize that-

you know that knock. heavy-handed with a tight fist, back of the knuckles, not the tops. almost pittering out by the end of the three successions, like the first one is direct and assured, but the second and third don’t really bother keeping up. that knock almost makes you run to the door. if it were 3 months ago, you’d be skipping to the door. 

but you hesitate for a few reasons. firstly because when the connection hits that you know that knock very well, you remind yourself to proceed with caution. secondly because it sounds the same but with a difference as small as a hairline fracture. you heard that knock far too many times during the span of a year and a half, and this one sounds almost completely identical, but there’s a half second pause between the first knock and the second knock and the raps feel less impatient. 

you don’t have to look through the peephole to know who’s standing on the other side of the door, but you’re glad you do anyway. if for nothing else, it gives you a slight edge, you’re convinced, like you’ve seen him first, you have the upperhand now. at least, that’s what you tell yourself. 

toji hadn’t contacted you since he left that day. no texts. no calls. no showing up at your apartment at 3 am. nothing. you kept telling yourself that you’d hear from him. when that didn’t happen, you started telling yourself that you didn’t care if you heard from him. you’ve actually been waiting for this moment, replaying what it would look like if he came back, the things you’d say to him and how you’d say them.

now, looking out at him just standing there, you’re frozen. every scenario you’ve replayed in your head, all of the emotional venting and blow out screaming that you’ve rehearsed and you can’t recall a single scene. you think about leaving him out there, about telling him to go away through the door or just pretending like you’re not home.

“i can see the shadow of your feet under the door,” toji calls out, muffled by the barrier between you guys, and yet it still rings out through your entire body. 

you slowly open the door. though, even if it took an entire hour to open the door, you’re not sure it would’ve mattered. you don’t think time is something that could’ve prepared you for seeing him. seeing him didn’t even prepare you for seeing him. you don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything, folding your arms over your chest. you just wait. 

“i-,” he starts, but then immediately stops, half sighs/half scoffs as he leans his chest forward, eyes scanning the inside of your apartment, for what exactly you’re not sure. 

“what, toji?” you ask, voice stronger- and more annoyed- than you anticipate it being. you’re grateful for that. “why are you here?”

“shit, this is already hard enough for me t-,” he says, shaking his head, corner of his mouth tugging upward in frustration. 

you narrow your eyes, cutting him off, “sorry, this is hard for you?” you feel like laughing or strangling him more than you do crying, which is a desired outcome in this situation, you suppose. “you know that you haven’t talked to me in three months, right? you haven’t talked to me?” you ask, and you can feel your pulse in your wrist and your chest now, because the lines are coming back to you slowly, one by one, circling your brain, fueling your confidence. 

“yeah, no, of course i know that,” he combats, like you’re the one that’s being an asshole right now. 

you smooth your fingertips against your eyes, blocking the sight of him out for just a second before gesturing with your hand as you ask, “are you going to answer my question or…?”

“look, i said that this is hard enough as it is for me to just be here,” he snaps, and if you were a little less annoyed, if he hadn’t come at this whole thing exactly how he was, you might’ve clocked the desperation in his voice or the uncertainty in his pupils. 

“do you know how fucking stupid you sound right now?” you ask. it’s a rhetorical question. 

one week after he left, you were certain he was going to come back. you and toji had gone a week without seeing each other or even speaking. you had even gone two weeks. sure, the conversation felt much more serious and, sure, really deep down you knew this time was different, but still, you held out dumb hope. 

one month after he left and you realized this was not just him being weird and distant. this was something brand new that you had never had to deal with before. you were still trying to figure out how to navigate it when the two month realization hit: that maybe he wasn’t coming back at all, ever, maybe you had done something wrong. if he had shown back up on your doorstep during that time this conversation would’ve gone very differently you think. 

but he didn’t. he showed up at month three when your reaction to random memories of toji were no longer tears and guilt, but laughter and bitterness. there weren’t many things that toji could say right now that would warrant anything more than you standing in your doorway for 4 minutes or less. 

“i-,” he starts, but then sighs. he looks left, down the hallway of your building, eyes shifting from object to object out of your view. 

“please don’t waste anymore of my time,” you reply and it’s softer than you intend. you thought it’d come out angrier. that seems like a theme for you tonight: everything sounding different in your head. when he doesn’t reply, you start a countdown, promising yourself that when you make it to 15, you’ll close the door in his face. you only make it to 13.

“i’m not here to waste your time,” he says, with no air of disgust or annoyance, the first halfway decent thing he’s said to you tonight. “i-,” he huffs again, “i’m here to say sorry. and-,” he hesitates. 

you wait, just listening. the longer that he hesitates, the more time you have to think about what he might say and how you’re standing with your door open for the entire floor to hear your conversation. you’re not sure what’s worse, having this conversation in the confines of familiar grounds or the openness of neutrality.

“and ask… are you already seeing someone else?” he finishes. 

you’re dumbfounded, blinking at him slowly before responding in the only way you can think of right now, “goodnight, toji.” you shake your head, cursing yourself for expecting anything more.

“no,” he rushes to say and then stumbles over the rest, “i- i tried to see somebody else, quite a bit of other people actually…”

you scoff, squinting at him, saying more sternly this time, with an added attestation of closing the door in his face, “goodnight, toji.”

he reaches out with a quick reflex, grabbing the door before you’ve barely even moved it. “wait, no, i- fuck,” he mutters, scrambling, “can i just come in?”

“so that was your plan then?” you drop your hand from the door. “to come back here unannounced, be shitty to me, ask if i’m sleeping with anyone, tell me that you’ve slept with lots of people, and then ask if you can come inside?” you ask.

“i didn’t have a plan-,” he replies.

“clearly,” you interject.

“but i’m trying,” he finishes, and you’re waiting for there to be more, to explain exactly how this constitutes as trying, because you don’t really see that here.

“fucking christ, toji, you’re going to have to try harder than whatever the fuck this is,” you sneer. 

“we- we had a good thing,” he tries again. you don’t understand how every time he opens his mouth it gets worse and worse. why are you even entertaining this anymore?

“fuck you, man,” you scoff, and it feels like all of the anger has left your body, and in the void where it once was present is nothing but disinterest. 

“no, not like that,” he backpedals. maybe if he would say more than four words at a time, or four better words at a time, then you wouldn’t have to keep filling in the blanks or being pissed off or- “for the last six months of our relationship, i didn’t sleep with anyone else,” he admits like it’s the answer to all of your problems. the word relationship burns at the forefront of your mind so hard that you don’t realize what he’s said for 10 whole seconds.

“i, so what?” your voice is unconvincing even to your own ears. you had slept with other people even 2 months before that last day. that wasn’t the issue. you guys were allowed to sleep with other people. you had an explicit conversation about the fact that you could sleep with other people, something along the lines of, hey, we can see other people right? yeah, we’re not fucking dating. okay, just checking.

the so what, you had already answered for yourself, inner voice replying to your own question, screaming, you guys were exclusive, unknowingly to each other, for 2 whole months before you confessed and he left. 

his answer is much different. he says, “so nothing really. i just- i needed you to know that.”

“well, what the fuck do you want me to do with that?” you ask, and it comes out bitter and discouraged, but what you really mean is, please tell me what you want, please, can you just tell me that you missed me. 

“whatever you want,” he answers instead.

you take a deep breath, a million emotions coursing through your veins and up your throat. “you know what?” you say, and it doesn’t sound angry, it sounds playful, “no, seriously,” you smile and then you laugh, “fuck you, toji.” you close your mouth like you’re done talking, like that’s all you needed to say, but your heart disagrees, forces more words out into the air no matter how hard your jaw is clenched shut.

“you show up here and you’re an asshole and then you’re decent and then you say shit like that and then- then i ask you what you fucking want from this, what you’re trying to play at here and you tell me whatever i want?” you say, exasperated. 

“what i wanted was for you not to leave me three fucking months ago. that’s what i wanted,” you spit, “i wanted you to tell me this shit three fucking months ago before i sat alone, by myself, sad and then angry, and the entire time, fucking missing you, you fucking asshole. that’s what i wanted.”

and then it’s there, out in the open, airing for the two of you to witness and to face, and no matter what happens, you know you’ve done everything and said everything that you’ve needed to. he’s quiet for a few moments and you let him be, not tapping your foot or rolling your eyes or being pissed off, but just letting it play out. if this is the last time you ever see toji, why not just let it play out?

“okay,” he says, and it’s soft in a way you’ve only ever heard from him one time in your entire relationship. “i’m sorry.” he pauses. “i really don’t know how to do this,” he admits and you believe him. it feels different from when he told you something along those lines earlier, but you have a feeling that this is what he was trying to say all along. 

“do what?” you push, because your mind is making assumptions, but if he’s going to prove anything to you, he needs to start now. 

“ask for forgiveness?” he says, like he’s thinking out loud, “apologize? date someone?” you don’t say anything. you’re looking for something more concrete than that. it takes a handful of uncomfortable seconds before he says, “actually care about someone.”

“and do you?” you ask.

his lips press into a thin line, his eyes shift from left to right again. you can feel him getting antsy with the conversation and he’s barely said one vulnerable thing. you look at him, eyes soft and pleading, silently begging him that if he’s grown from this, you’ll let him back in, you swear, but you’ve been hurt before and you know what you’re worth, so you’re going to need some sort of evidence as collateral. “yeah,” he mumbles, but it’s audible. “you,” he says like it isn’t obvious, and it’s quiet and daunted, but you really appreciate the effort.

“okay,” you say, and that’s all you say.

“okay?” he questions, confused. “that’s it?” 

“yup,” you say, but your small smile and the fact that you’re not slamming the door in his face again gives away a bit more than that. 

“can i… come in?” he asks, hesitant, like he’s still being tested.

you shake your head, hand gripped onto the edge of the door. “no,” you say, scrunching up your nose and furrowing your eyebrows. “because if you come in here, we’re going to have sex,” you admit, half because it’s the truth and half just to see the look on his face. (it’s worth it.)

“wait,” he says, placing his palm flat against your door, but not moving it. his hand is now inside of your apartment, the only part of his body that’s made it past this invisible barrier of hallway and your place. “that sounds like a great thing. why am i not allowed in?”

“because this is me having self-control,” you explain, placing a hand on his shoulder and pushing the small portion of him that’s crossed the division back into the hallway. when you feel his skin against your pinky, soft fabric of that familiar shirt underneath your palm, you almost make a fool of yourself right after you say the word self-control, but you remind yourself what’s at stake here, what you really want. 

“i came all the way out here to see you-,” he starts, but he doesn’t make a move to replace his hand on your door, letting his arm fall back to his side. it’s for the better, too, because you’re not sure how much more self-control you have already, no matter how much you tell yourself about longevity and whatever. 

“if you really care,” you interrupt him, using his few vulnerable words against him, “and you weren't just trying to sleep with me tonight,” you pause, letting those words sink in, “you will go home and you will call me tomorrow morning and we will get breakfast- the least sexy meal of them all- and then maybe coffee if i enjoy hanging out with you outside of just having sex with you, and then we will go from there.”

“i-,” he starts to protest, but you cock your head. the truth is, if he said another word, reached out and touched your cheek or your hip or really anywhere on your body, if he kissed you, or just walked inside of your apartment and sat down on your couch, you wouldn’t have stopped him. you might even have gotten breakfast with him anyways. he doesn’t know that, you don’t think, but even if he does, he doesn’t act on it. he bows his head slightly, conceding, and says, “okay. i will just… talk to you… tomorrow… then.”

you nod. “goodnight, toji,” you say, hand on the door, closing it as slowly as you opened it. 

“uh, yea, night,” he says back. you won’t tell anyone, and neither will he, about the stupidest small smile you see on his lips as he leaves your apartment that night or the fact that he wakes up extra early the next morning, muttering under his breath about how ridiculous dating is before he calls you at 9:30 on the dot.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ɢᴏᴊᴏ [ 3 ᴡᴇᴇᴋs ]

being away from ɢᴏᴊᴏ feels like detoxing. not from like hard drugs or alcohol, but… coffee. 

like you know it’s not necessarily good for you, drinking it every day, but it’s a habit you’ve had for a while now and you just can’t seem to break it. it’s not really hurting anything in your day-to-day and you’ve been doing it for so long that it’s probably fine to just keep doing it.

but out of nowhere it hits you that maybe drinking coffee as much as you do is a waste of money and even if you don’t feel the negative effects constantly in your daily routine, you remind yourself of the times where you could distinctly feel the thump of your heart and the unsteady of your hands. you recall the time that you stayed up all night for the promise of a cup of coffee to get you through the day. in every memory that you’ve ever had in your entire college career, you’re holding a cup of coffee.

so one day you make the choice to stop. you stop buying coffee from coffee shops and pods for your coffee maker and cups from diners and accepting free ones from friends. you don’t really need a good cup of coffee as badly as you think you do. and it’s stupid, you think, because it’s just coffee. it doesn’t mean anything. just because you’ve been drinking it consistently for quite awhile doesn’t mean it has any sort of hold over you. it’s just coffee. 

but then the headaches come and the irritation sets in and nights are hard, but for some reason mornings are unbearable, and you feel antsy all the time and you haven’t left your room in the past three days and the only thing you want is a cup of fucking coffee and you can’t relapse with coffee; it’s fucking coffee. 

yeah, being away from gojo feels a lot like detoxing from coffee. 

you try to just not see him. it’ll be easier for you if you just don’t see him, you tell yourself. you go out of your way to avoid his walking path on campus and you refuse to leave your dorm when you don’t absolutely need to in fear of bumping into him or worse, just seeing him from afar, and god forbid you even come within three streets of the corner where his apartment resides. you block his number and you delete social media off of your phone for the time being, too many mutual friends to make casualties, and you do not let yourself think about him. not falling asleep, not when you wake up, not while you’re doing homework, not in your dreams or in the shower, not when something reminds you of him, not when you see his favorite show on your recently watched, not when you really need a good cup of coffee. 

and it works for a while.

but not forever.

three weeks into your detox and you’re doing such a good job at not thinking about gojo that you mix up his monday schedule with his tuesday schedule and on your way back to your dorm, you see him. if you keep walking at the same pace that you’re walking, you will collide with him. if neither of you do anything, one of you will get hurt. 

you look down at your phone, hoping, in the forefront of your mind, that he didn’t see it was you. (in the back of your mind, you’re hoping that he’s the one to break the longest bout of silence the two of you have had since you met.) when you sneak a glance, he’s already almost reached you, jogging to catch up with you. “hey,” he calls out, just in case you haven’t seen him.

“hi,” you say, stopping in place and letting him approach you.

“i’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” he offers, like you wouldn’t have known that.

“oh, sorry, haven’t been on my phone,” you lie. he knows that you’re lying. he can tell that you’re lying, so you don’t really know why you lie in the first place. maybe to prove a point. maybe to make him feel bad.

“look, about…,” he trails off, trying to remember how long he’s been without you, “about that… day…,” he opts for instead. 

you put your hand up, waving the topic off. you mean to say something like, don’t worry about it, see you later, but it comes out like, “we don’t have to talk about that here.” here. fucking here. if you would’ve left those four letters out, it would’ve been a perfect line to walk away with, but you don’t. your stupid coffee-craving brain tacks it on, hopeful. 

“right,” he says, nodding, “should we get coffee maybe, then, or?”

it’s not out of the ordinary, or it didn’t used to be, but now it feels taboo. you want to snap and ask him if he’s sure, because coffee sounds a bit too much like a date for people that aren’t together, but you realize very quickly that the irritation from your coffee detox is maybe a little bit too much to hold in without any closure. “sure,” you agree, “i just got done with class so we cou-.”

“i know,” he says, because three weeks hasn’t erased your schedule from his brain either. 

you order an iced tea. you’re still convinced you’re done with coffee for good. he looks surprised at your choice, like he’s never seen you order an iced tea before, because he hasn’t, but he doesn’t say anything. you sip on it throughout unpleasant pleasantries and it’s refreshing, but it’s lacking something. in fact, the longer that you drink this stupid drink that has caffeine anyways and isn’t as good, the irritation bubbles higher and higher until- “can i start?” you ask, tapping your fingers against the table in rhythmic succession. 

“yeah, sure,” he says, bringing his coffee to his lips and taking a sip.

“if at any point in this conversation your answer to anything i have to say is that we weren’t together, i don’t think we should have this conversation,” you reason, and you mean it, but his reaction takes you aback. you notice the smallest flinch when you say weren’t.

“i wasn’t-,” he shakes his head, sighing, “no, i wasn’t going to say that.”

“okay,” you say, dragging your fingertips along the condensation on the side of your glass. “then what were you going to say?”

he thinks for a minute, like he didn’t assume that he’d get this far when he brought up the idea of coffee. “i wanted to stop you from leaving,” he says.

“but you didn’t,” you rebuttal.

“i didn’t,” he affirms. it’s quiet again. you can hear the scrape of the cups against the table as they’re picked up, drank from, and put back down. the chatter in the coffee shop drones over the sounds of hesitance and nerves. “i’m sorry,” he says after a while.

“so, do you think we were together?” you ask, “and be honest. i’ll know if you lie.” you search his face as he answers, and the only thing that comes up is another flinch when you talk in past tense again.

“yeah,” he says, honest. “being apart from you these past three weeks has been one of the shittiest things i’ve ever been through.”

“ever?” you ask, quirking your eyebrow, as if it isn’t somewhat true for you too. 

he nods in response, continuing, “it’s been hard.” he pauses. “i’m sorry i was so shitty.”

“pretty shitty, yeah,” you agree, but you can’t hide how nice it feels to just talk with him again, to call him shitty and to sit across from him at a coffee shop table. “i’m sorry i ghosted you these past few weeks,” because it deserves to be said too. 

“i really missed you,” he says, and he doesn’t hide from it. he looks you directly in your eyes and you can tell that he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand. you want that too. 

“me or just, like, sleeping with me?” you ask, somewhat terrified of the answer, scanning his face for the truth once again. 

he laughs softly and, try as you might, you can’t stop the fluttering in your stomach or the warmth in your cheeks hearing that for the first time in too long. “please, i haven’t thought about sleeping with you once,” he jokes.

“oh, no? not at all?” you ask, scoffing lightly, a tiny smirk threatening to break.

he forces a thoughtful frown, shakes his head dramatically and says, “can’t say that i have.” you’re laughing now, but through smile-squinted eyes you can still tell that he’s actually being genuine. “not really,” he says. 

“so just me then?” you ask to make sure.

“just you,” he affirms. “a lot of just you.” you hum, content with his answer, but he gives you even more than thought he ever could, “i don’t want to just go back to the way things were. i don’t think that’s enough for me anymore.”

even though you’re sure a response like this would’ve sent waves of shock through your entire body, it doesn’t. it just feels right. you reply quickly, “good. i don’t think it’s enough for me either.” you reach across the table. the back of your hand brushes against his, and then past it. you wrap your fingers around the handle of his coffee cup and bring it to your lips. 

he doesn’t protest or snatch it away from you or make a snarky comment. he places his chin in the palm of his hand, elbow against the surface of the table, and smiles at you. you take a sip from his mug, warmth spreading through every bit of your body. 

why would you deprive yourself of coffee when it brings you so much comfort?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ʜɪɢᴜʀᴜᴍᴀ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]

you’re not exactly sure how many times something has to happen before it becomes a theme. 

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“do you -huff- want to -huff- have kids someday?” higuruma asks from beneath you, palms resting on the tops of your knees, thumbs massaging up to the insides of your thighs. 

you slow your bounces and then you stop them completely. you blink at him once and then twice. “that is a really wild thing to ask while you’re inside of someone,” you scoff, searching his face for any kind of tone indicator. is he being serious? is he just saying something to get a rise out of you? is this a kink thing?

he smirks, placing his hands on your hips, coaxing you to continue your movements, and you do. you lift yourself off of him, slowly at first, but then picking up speed as you chase the feeling you lost when he asked the question. you’re breathless when he asks again, the repeated question no longer stilling you. the second time around it feels almost normal. “do you?” he asks on his exhale.

you shake your head and then tilt it side to side, closing your eyes so all of the conflicting fast paced movements don’t dizzy you. “i- don’t- know-,” you huff, “maybe- conversation- for- a- different- setting.” each word is punctuated by the slap of your thighs against his hips. he nods, completely okay with that answer, and then just drops it.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“shit,” you say in realization, hips circling, fingers combing through his hair. you pull your head away from his shoulder, pushing yourself up to look him in the eyes. “wait, how did your meeting go today?” you ask, and this time neither of you miss a beat. 

when he slows to think about it, you pick up his slack, rolling your hips, feeling the drag of him inside of you, a breathy moan floating up your chest. he answers over your noises, “really good actually.”

“everything as planned?” you ask further, genuinely just as invested in this as you are in the act. 

he nods, smiling. “yeah, to a t,” he says, wrapping his arms around your lower back and pulling you against his chest. he kisses the side of your temple, holding you in place with a tight grip as he lifts his hips off of the bed, thrusting into you. “surprised you didn’t ask as soon as i came through the door.”

you shake your head against his shoulder, placing a soft kiss against his collarbone. “was thinking about it all day,” you explain. he fucks into you faster in response and it feels like a reward for caring about the things that are important to him. “but when- shit- when you got home…,” you grunt, “it completely- ah, fuck- completely slipped my- ah- mind, s-sorry.”

“ts alright, pretty.” he nudges his nose against your cheek, peeling your attention to his face. your cheek rests against his shoulder and you blink at him, focus dipping from the topic at hand as you feel that familiar tightening in your core. he can see it written all over your face, so he drops his head to kiss you, silently communicating that you don’t have to worry about finishing the conversation right now. he’ll bring it up again in a bit.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

“should we get married?” he asks, back up against the headboard, looking you directly in your eyes, gaze following yours as you rise and fall. 

“you are not proposing to me while i’m riding you,” you say, shaking your head, but you don’t still or slow. conversations like this in a setting like this just don’t phase you anymore. honestly, it wouldn’t surprise you if he did propose right now. you’re not even sure you’d say no.

the corner of his lip tugs upward and he exhales a laugh as he leans forward the smallest bit to kiss you. “i’m not, i’m not,” he assures, “why? would you say no?” 

you’re quiet for a minute, not because you don’t know the answer, but to keep him on his toes. you won’t lie to him, you don’t think, but you don’t want to come right out and say it. his questions are rhetorical anyways, half-jokes that he’s not expecting serious answers to; you’ve known higuruma well enough and long enough to be confident of that. you could’ve replied with an eye roll and a scoff and nothing else and he would’ve dropped it. instead, however, you answer, “course not. i’d say yes in a second.”

he nearly comes inside of you right there.

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

maybe it becomes a theme when someone points it out. 

you can’t tell if it’s intentional or not, the way that the two of you keep having these serious conversations during sex. you know that you don’t do it on purpose; things will just hit you during the repetitive motions and you worry you’ll forget them and you know that higuruma won’t judge you for just saying them, so you do. whether this is the case for him, you’re not sure. 

but the interruptions just keep getting more casual. it starts with big conversations: weddings and promotions and thoughtful decisions, and then it’s like you just start remembering things in this position: work drama and mundane did you knows. it’s almost as if starting with big topics just made it seem so easy to talk about anything like this. 

it didn’t help, you think, that it’s just always easy to talk about anything with higuruma. you guys have been together, officially together, for over four years now, and conversation, no matter the topic or severity or setting, is something you’ve never struggled with. you continue to not struggle with it, inside of the bedroom and out. 

you’re not sure what about the position and the moment makes you so susceptible to remembering little things that you want to tell higuruma when he’s not around, and vice versa. in fact, you’re not even convinced that it’s something about the action that jogs your memory anyway, it’s probably just a really weird and common coincidence.

and then one night you can’t find your keys. 

you’ve searched everywhere for them, in your car, in your bag, every nook of your room, the places where they normally are, higuruma’s coat pocket just in case, and then everywhere else in your guys’ apartment. they’re nowhere to be seen. 

when higuruma walks through the front door, even from where you’re searching in the kitchen, you hear him let out an elongated, “woah.”

you pop your head into the doorway, “don’t say anything about the mess.” you can see his eyes resting on the overturned couch cushions and then on the various opened drawers. “hey,” you warn, pointing towards him as you walk quickly into the living room. you throw your arms around him tightly and give him a small greeting peck. it’s routine at this point; if you don’t do it your whole night feels off. “i said don’t say anything.”

he lets you hang off of his neck as he puts both hands up in surrender. “i didn’t say shit,” he says, pressing a kiss into the side of your neck, then moving his hands to your waist, “the fuck happened here though?” he laughs against your skin and you can feel the vibrations travel to your fingers and toes. 

you pull away from him, shaking your head. now that you’re back in the living room, it’s like you have to start this room’s search over too. you start checking under the couch and in the hall closet. “lost my fucking keys,” you grumble, smoothing your palms over your face, “i swear i’ve looked everywhere. i just can’t remember where i left them when i got home.”

“did you check th-,” he asks, walking into the kitchen, grateful that you’re not in there with him or he knows you’d yell at him for the way his eyes go wide at the clutter and chaos everywhere. 

you cut him off, “wherever you’re about to say, probably yes, ughhh. i’ve retraced my steps, i’ve looked in places that are fucking stupid to look in like every pair of shoes we own and in the fucking guest bedroom pillowcases. i’ve looked everywhere.”

from where he’s stood in the kitchen now, he can see you scrambling as you vent. he leans against the wall, “well, not everywhere or you would’ve found it by now.”

“i’ll kill you,” you say, eyes snapping up to meet his to show how serious you are.

he just laughs, “i’ve got a pretty good lawyer, you might not want to do that.”

“good legal can’t help you when you’re dead,” you snap, almost completely joking. he meets you back in the living room, helping you check all the places you’ve already checked. 

15 minutes pass and then 35 and then he stops abruptly. “oh my god, i have an idea,” he says, and you look at him, hopeful. “you know when you usually remember things?” 

your first reaction is joking annoyance, picking up a throw pillow and sending it his way. he catches it and sets it back down on the couch. “i’m serious!” he yell-laughs. 

you throw another pillow at him as your second reaction sets in. “that’s not going to fucking work,” you say.

“how do you know?” he asks.

“because,” you say, trying to come up with a good answer other than just blind doubt, “because i don’t remember things while i’m riding you. it’s not a fucking superpower.”

“you don’t know that,” he jokes back and braces to be hit with another pillow. “okay, okay, but i’m being serious! besides, what’s the worst thing that can happen? you don’t remember and we’ve had sex, how horrible,” he reasons.

you let your arms fall, pillow in your hands resting against the tops of your thighs. you look at him, thinking, which, in hindsight, was a dumb thing to do, because higuruma can see the contemplation on your face. 

eight minutes later and he’s inside of you and you’re the most embarrassed you’ve ever been.

“this is so stupid,” you mumble. you haven’t moved an inch after slowly lowering yourself onto him. you’re fully seated against his hips, hands smoothing over your face and then lingering there, covering. 

he reaches up, fingers soft and kind as he wraps them around your wrists, pulling them away from your face. “ts not stupid,” he reassures, but you’re not convinced. you groan, turning to look away from him, but that just won’t do. he reaches up again, soft grip on your chin coaxing your gaze back to his. “hey,” he says softly, “just focus here, angel.”

you listen, somewhat, mind still flickering back to why you’re even riding him in the first place. “just enjoy yourself, okay,” he tries again, rolling his hips upwards, pressing himself inside of you as deep as he can. you close your eyes, and it’s quite easy to just focus on the feeling of being as full as you are right now. “good,” he whispers, “just like that.”

it doesn’t take long for you to lose yourself completely, moving on your own, letting the whimpers and whines take over any other thought you might think to say, chasing that feeling rather than worrying about whatever you’ve lost. 

it all kinda clicks at once: where your keys are and why you always remember shit when you’re like this.

in the midst of everyday noise, so many things get lost: important and unimportant thoughts alike. but now you’re not worried about anything else. you don’t care about anything else right now. you don’t have to. you don’t want to. and in this state of letting everything go, mindless and blissful, some things slip back through the cracks.

you collapse onto higuruma’s chest, spent and happily aware of this new revelation that you have not, for once, shared in the middle of sex, but kept quiet as a come down surprise. you hum softly as he rubs up and down your back, hum again as he presses a kiss into your forehead. “m sorry it didn’t work, angel,” he murmurs. 

you turn your head, ear pressed right against his heart as you gaze up at him. “i left them in the fridge,” you reveal, and he knits his eyebrows together. 

you assume that he’s going to say something about how did you leave them in the fridge? or why are they there? but instead he questions, “what? and you didn’t tell me until now?” like you’ve harbored a life long secret. you laugh softly, snaking your hands up and scratching your nails against his scalp, playing with the ends of his hair. “don’t think this is going to get you out of it,” he says, “‘ts my favorite thing when you just blurt shit while you’re on me.”

you can feel the warmth in your cheeks and your chest as you breathe a laugh. “you’ve never told me that before,” you murmur. 

“think it’s cute when you just can’t wait to tell me things,” he says, “feels more intimate than being inside of you.”

“ew,” you say, scrunching up your nose, even though you weirdly agree. 

he just laughs in response. a few seconds of quiet comfort pass before he backtracks, “wait, why the fuck are your keys in the fridge?” 

and you tell him all about it, about the day that you’ve had and how you remembered you hadn’t drank enough water so you were refilling your bottle from the pitcher in the fridge as soon as you got home from work, but your hands were full so you set your keys on top of the leftovers from yesterday, but then you had to go and set everything down and the fridge closed and by the time you left the kitchen you remembered you needed to do something else… and it just keeps going.

you tell him as you’re taking a shower and as you’re eating dinner together and as he’s brushing his teeth and you’re washing your face and laying in bed and setting your alarms. every room in the house is a mess, but you’ll deal with that later, you decide. you rest your chin on his shoulder. “and how was your day?” you ask, even though the clock reads much later than it should for how much sleep you both should get before you’re up early for work tomorrow. 

nevermind that, he decides, and tells you all about it anyways.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ʙᴏɴᴜs! ɴᴀɴᴀᴍɪ [ ɴ/ᴀ ]

“can i ask you something and when i ask you, you’ll know i don’t mean anything bad by it at all because i love you more than everything in the world?” you ask, putting down your phone only after you’ve finished your sentence. 

you wait a few seconds for nanami to take in what you’ve asked. he reaches over to the night stand for his bookmark and sticks it between the pages. he shuts it with an audible shuffling of paper and a sharp thump. 

nanami has been with you long enough to not typically be surprised by your out of the blue… questions. (dronings? is there a word like droning but the connotation is more positive? like you talk at him a lot and he loves to hear the ramblings in your brain, but sometimes he is just trying to read his book before bed. whatever that word is.)

he places the book on his lap and then turns his chest towards you completely. you now have his full attention. “is that a yes?” you ask. 

he inhales deeply, “if i say no, will you still ask it?”

you think on the answer to that question, really mulling it over before shaking your head. “no, i don’t think so.”

“then yes,” he smirks, “i suppose i have to say yes then.”

“great,” you say, tossing your phone onto your bedside table with a clunk. you sit up straighter, rocking forward to fully adjust your position on your side of the bed. you put your hand on his thigh and cross your legs, letting your knee rest on the side of his comforter covered hip. “do you ever regret not dating more?”

it definitely takes him by surprise. he thought you might drop another weirdly specific hypothetical about would he love you if… or request a glass of water even though you already told him tonight when he was getting into bed and he asked if you wanted one, that you did not. 

now he’s the one mulling over your question and despite how nerve wracking it could be to wait for an answer to a what if that involves not you, you’re not anxious in the slightest. you’re quiet, just waiting for his answer, and when he finally speaks, you know exactly why you weren’t scared in the first place, “i’ve honestly never thought about it since i met you.”

“really?” you ask, and you’re mostly feeling very lucky that nanami is yours and you are his, but there is an underlying feeling of guilt that he’s unintentionally caused with this statement. 

he nods. “sounds like you have though,” he says, and it’s not even a little bit judgmental. it sounds like he’s imploring you to keep talking, like he wants to hear exactly what you’re thinking, why you brought it up in the first place.

“i wouldn’t trade this security, this love, exactly what we have, you for anything in the world,” you start to explain, and it’s nothing but the truth, “but sometimes i just think about that first night when we were in that bar. the flirting, the risks, that feeling of not knowing where the night is going to end up. sometimes i think about that a little bit.”

he hums, thinking about that night, and after a few seconds of silence, he speaks up again, “first date nerves,” he nods, “now that i think about it, i miss those.”

you cock your head at him. that’s a weird part of dating to miss, you think, but then he explains further, “like when we went out on our first date and i didn’t know what you were going to wear or if you liked the restaurant i picked or if you’d let me pay for your food.”

“or if i’d take you back to mine,” you joke, raising your eyebrows at him, but really you’re burning inside. your cheeks feel warm just hearing about these feelings he’s never mentioned to you before. 

“yeah, that too,” he laughs, getting back on track, “like, i’m still finding out new things about you all the time, but back then i was discovering who you were every second we were together, and that- that felt like…”

“like finding out soulmates were real?” you ask, because that’s what it felt like to you, that same exact phenomenon he’s describing. he smiles at you warmly, like you’ve just put to words what he felt he could only experience. “i know what you mean,” you smile. 

he leans forward, cupping your cheek with his hand and guiding you towards him. he kisses you softly, placing his other hand on your other cheek and kissing you harder. “should we go on a first date again?” he asks against your lips, barely pulling away to speak. 

you laugh, but when you pull away, you can tell he’s not joking. “what?” you ask, “what do you mean?” you’re already blushing though, already feeling the exact first date nerves he was just talking about. 

“let’s go on a first date,” he repeats himself. “i’ll pick you up at your front door and i’ll choose the restaurant and it’ll be a surprise and i’ll ask you questions that i’d ask you on a first date even if i know the answers to all of them and more at this point.”

you’re smiling so big that your cheeks are sore as you nod fervently at the concept. “okay, yeah,” you agree. 

“right, so we probably shouldn’t kiss or make out or sleep with each other until then to really play into the whole thing?” he teases, and you roll your eyes in response. 

“you’re very funny, kento,” you say, leaning in, brushing your nose against his. he doesn’t even last a second, closing the gap with a small peck and then another and then another and then a much longer one and then he’s putting the book on his nightstand so he can pull you into his lap. 

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

you get a text 5 minutes before 7 that nanami is going to be 3 minutes late picking you up. the text looks a little weird underneath a thread of:

>> nami <3 >> how’s work baby

<< read << if you love me you’ll come and pull the fire alarm to get me out of here early :) :) :)

>> nami <3 >> fine but that’s a class four felony in some cases. will you be providing legal assistance or should i look elsewhere????

<< read << how do u know that?? nerd!!!

>> nami <3 >> google tbh. 

<< read << wow. first i have to stay at work all day alone and sad and now i get to know my bf isn’t sexy and off the dome smart about everything. :(

>> nami <3 >> goodbye.

<< read << :(

>> nami <3 >> i love you

<< read << :)

you bite back the urge to reply with something you’d say to him after knowing him for years. rereading the text and thinking back to your first date, it makes you giggle. actually, it makes you kinda nervous. you text back a polite no worries! take your time! and he replies with a heart and you truly feel like you’re dating for the first time again. you feel honest to god giddy. 

arriving to the restaurant, you are genuinely surprised. you thought after knowing him as long as you have and having gone to as many restaurants with him as you have, you’d go back to somewhere nice you’ve already been. but that isn’t the case. 

he drives you to a pop-up restaurant 20 minutes out of town that you’ve never even heard of, but is the cutest place you’ve ever been, and the entire time he can’t stop sneaking respectful glances at you. he won’t stop telling you how nice you look. he even apologizes for it by the sixth time, pushing your chair in at the restaurant saying, “i know i keep mentioning it, and i’m sorry, but if i said it every time i thought it, it’d be a never ending string.”

if he keeps this up, you’re going to feel like you’re cheating. this seriously feels like a first date, like you’ve been in a relationship for over 5 years and you’re also going on a first date and it’s really messing with your head, but you never want it to stop. 

he stays true to his word, asking you questions he already knows the answers to, but hearing them again, they sound brand new. he doesn’t know if he’s just forgotten some of them or if the testaments of time have weathered your answers just enough to sound unfamiliar, but either way, he’s hanging on to every word. 

by the end of the night, you’ve truly convinced yourself that there are stakes to this date, like if you play your cards wrong, you won’t get to keep seeing this incredible guy. he pays the whole bill, even though you insist on getting your meal or at the very least dessert. he says, “you can try next time too.” and you can’t breathe, you feel so lucky. 

“i’m sorry if this seems forward, but i’d really like to keep seeing you tonight,” you say as the waiter takes away the paid bill, and your heart is thumping so violently against your chest, you swear he can feel it too. 

he shakes his head, “perfectly forward,” he smiles, “your place or mine?” you break character for the first time tonight, giggling at the reality of the question, hiding behind your hand as you do. “what’s so funny?” he asks, but he’s grinning just as big as you are. 

“just thinking about how dreary my life would be if i hadn’t gone on this first date,” you say, and it’s a little too meta, but he’ll let it slide, because he’s a bit flustered at the sentiment. “mine is great,” you answer, placing your hand on his, rubbing the tips of your fingers against his knuckles. 

everything about the rest of the night feels like a first too. it feels like your first kiss in front of your front door. it feels like he’s seeing “your” apartment for the first time. it feels like you’re making out on your couch for the first time. 

it feels like the first time he’s ever been inside of you. 

when he pushes deeper into you, eyes on yours shut tight, you tell yourself that you want to pretend you’re on a first date every single day of your life. you can’t stop whimpering, pleading for him to never stop fucking you ever, please don’t stop, please never fucking stop. 

you break character for the second time when you’re right on the edge. he keeps looking down at you with so much love in his eyes and his hands all over you feel like they know every inch of you, and you can’t stop yourself. you grab his face in your hands, “kento, baby, please, ‘m gonna- ‘m sorry, i- fuck, please. i love you, fuck,” you whine, and he can’t stop himself either, hips stuttering, head falling against your shoulder as he feels you clenching around him as he empties himself inside of you, murmuring how much he loves you right back. 

the way you’ve been feeling all night: blissful and coy, it’s not because it’s a first date, it’s because he’s nanami. it’s because he’s orchestrated the entire night and no matter how “new” everything feels, the underlying foundation of that newness, and the reason everything feels so good, is familiarity and safety. 

“i’m sorry that i-,” you breathe, but he stops you, reaching his hand up to drag his fingertips against your lips, and you laugh, pressing a soft kiss into them. “okay, okay,” you say, and he places his hand back down by his side. “done with the first date stuff, just want to be yours again,” you murmur. 

he scoffs, light, and you can hear his smile in it. he falls over onto his back, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. “never weren’t,” he mumbles against your hair. “always will be,” he mumbles again, holding you tighter. 

“good,” you say back, settling into his arms like that’s the only thing you know to be true in the entire world. you wouldn’t trade that truth for a million first dates. 

sure, holding your breath at quick witted flirts and stolen glances is nice, but it’s a lot nicer just knowing that you will never be loved better and you will never love harder. 

♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡ no bc the yelling really worked very well idk yell at me more to write a continuation for toji (maybe also gojo bc hes the only one i havent written even an inkling of smut for) idk i'm just thinking of so many scenes idk throw hcs at me in my inbox IDK! toji dating for the first time? got me fucked UP

ᡣ𐭩 ᴛᴀɢs ᡣ𐭩 @igocrazyeveryday @vernasce-blogs @minty86 @abrielletargaryen @pompompompompompompom @mysticrays @lilolpotato @thisisew @pnkoo @optimisticsandwichgladiator @ryumurin @cisseadven @multi-fandom-fanfic @noosayog @anxious-chick @mintleafwrites @(tried to tag some other folks but couldnt!!)

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #toji smut #gojo smut #nanami x reader #nanami smut #higuruma x reader #higuruma x reader smut #higuruma smut #nanami x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #actually not really tbh theres no smut in tojis or gojos cant even lie #toriwritesshit

[sh1-n0bu]

what punishment do you think suits for blade bcus he won't come home to me?

♡︎ 𝙥𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨 ♡︎

characters: sub!blade x gn!dom!reader

warnings: slapping, edging, squirting, mentions of handjob, bondage, degrading, dacryphilia, begging, mentions of cock slapping, masochist bladie, forced self praise and praise, slight fluff and angst if you squint, reader’s a bit mean but it’s deserved😤 also ig this is a bit of a self aware AU as well???? yeah, ig u guys could read it as a self aware AU if ur into it

notes: sorry for replying too fast anon. my period is making me horknee😔 this is more like a headcannon of what i think would be a perfect punishment for blade

DEGRADING

listen listen listen, i know this may sound a bit weird but blade hates being degraded when with you. there’s a reason why he gives off wet, pathetic, soggy cat that’s abandoned at the side of the street vibes and because of that, blade loves to be praised instead. especially since you're his lover, his darling, his sweetheart, his one and only and the only one he would do absolutely anything and everything for without even thinking. because of that, blade wants to be praised. he wants to be a good boy for you, he wants to be your sweet baby, not your dirty slut. he thinks you’re being so mean to him :((

SLAPPING

now this can be taken in many concepts. he could be begging on his knees in front of you, hands clinging to the fabrics of your clothes as hazy, teary red eyes stare at you. chewed on lips spurring out apologies after apologies like a broken record. you could slap him across the face to make him shut up, its fine since blade can handle it. besides he’s a bit of a masochist as well so he would definitely let out a whimper and rub his thighs together to get some relief on his poor hardened cock

but if it's in other places such as slapping his ass as a form of punishment, slapping his thighs until the skin is all red and sensitive or even his hard cock leaking pre all over his stomach — either way, blade would be turned into a brainless sweetheart in no time. tears falling from his eyes as he begs for you to just touch him!! touch him properly please? he’s a good boy. he’ll be a good boy, he even promises!

EDGING

blade loves being overstimulated. its one of his favorite kinks. whether it be cumming over and over and over by your hand stroking his angry cock, fingering his ass and creating filthy squelching sounds or into your mouth or hell, even riding your thighs! he loves to be close to you, after years of loneliness and isolation, blade craves intimacy. he craves that close contact, to feel the warmth of your bare skin touching his own. even better when he’s crying and sobbing from cumming into your hand for the nth time that night, blabbering drunken shit as he squirts again. but when its taken away???? when he’s so close to reaching his high and stumbling over the edge, when his hard cock is ready to paint your hands with his sticky liquid and you take it away from him????? getting your hand off of his cock and leaving him aching and whining, desperately chasing after your hand with sobbing pleas? blade thinks you’re being real mean to him :((( please just let him cum, let him cum even on the sheets if you want! he won’t soil your hand, he just wants to cum so bad and his poor cock hurts so much :((

BONDAGE

this one is almost all of the time paired with the edging one. as i've said before, blade craves intimacy, he loves being close to you physically. he loves you so fucking much, way too much to the point it hurts to even be away from you even for a little bit. there's a reason why blade chose to be close to you, a reason why he decided to open up his heart to someone else again to give another shot at life and because of that he loves you and trust you so much. you're literally the reason he realized perhaps living wouldn't be so bad after all because he has you by his side, he can go another day, another month, another year, another life-time if it means he would get to spend every waking and even sleeping moment beside you. blade loves to be physically close to you so when you take it away from him, when you tie his hands behind his back or even tie his wrists up to the bedframe, he's doing everything to break those stupid cuffs or ropes. he wants to feel you!! it doesn't even have to be in the sexual way, it can just be in a literal way. holding hands, his palm flat against your back, feeling your skin, being reminded of your warmth. but if you take it away, he's a mess. but don't worry everything is consensual of courses, and you always make sure to take care of him and the bruises afterwards. one of the most effective ways to punish him, me thinks

honorary mention: FORCED SELF PRAISE

it might come of as a bit off or out of place since i did mention that one of the suited punishments for blade would be degrading and praise is the absolute opposite for that but hEAR ME OUT!!!! blade is self conscious of his body. and i meant his scars specifically. he finds them hideous, like how can someone like you could ever find him pretty or gorgeous or all those words you praise him with? he finds it ridiculous. his body is nothing but just a meaningless weapon by now, covered with scars and phantom pains that don't go away and yet you find it so beautiful. you even make sure to make him understand that he is indeed beautiful as you place kisses on each and every last one of the scars that he bears

now this!!!! is where the forced self praise comes in. it doesn't even have to be sexual or as a form of punishment. you could just be doing your everyday ritual of praising the ever loving shit out of him with blade sitting all pretty with a cute red dusting his cheeks. he would always weakly try to refuse your praises, saying that he wasn't the most handsome man in the galaxy and that was why he was wanted and instead always offering logical answers. just accept the damn praise blade >:(((( this is where it comes in. you can softly coax him to say self assuring things. it can start out small like "i did a good job on the mission the other day", "i make a delicious pancake this morning", "i always how to make hot chocolate to cheer up my beloved" and it can range to the things that he insistently denies. make him say that he's pretty, that he's gorgeous, that his hair is long and elegant, that he's an amazing lover, how he was wanted across all galaxies because he was just so charming and dashing and amazi - okay, now his brain is way too fried with the compliments and in his desperation, he's shutting you up with a kiss. he's so adorable :333

#nobu.writes #sub hsr #sub honkai star rail #sub!hsr #sub!character #sub character #sub blade #sub!blade #dom!reader #x dom reader #dom reader #gender neutral reader #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #blade x reader smut #blade x y/n #blade x reader #blade smut #self aware honkai star rail #sahsrau #self aware au

[svnarin]

- so like maybe like a fic/drabble/whatever with suna when reader and him get in a fight and reader leaves to like cool down or sum- and reader gets hurt bad :3

idk man it’s cringy and wattpad coded but I like that shit 😞 feel free to decline! ((If rq is 2 weird maybe do a vulnerable moments with him))

Ty for reading ! (I dunno how to reqs I’m sorry💀)

୨୧⋆ ˚ — selfish

warnings!! angst, suna being a selfish asshole, open-ended 'cause it still ended in an unresolved argument, not proofread 😞

note! HI ANON!! this is actually my very first time taking such a request. tbh with you, i've never done that much angst and this is actually the heaviest angst i've done by far, but i hope this can satisfy your wants 😭🙏

FEEDBACKS ARE HIGHLY APPRECIATED!

“where are you? i can’t find you in the stadium.” 

you don’t want to reply to his message. heck, you don’t even want to open the notification at all. 

it’s been three hours since the match ended and it’s been an hour since you left the stadium, and he just realized that you left just now? ridiculous. 

you stared blankly at the notification until he sent you another one just three minutes later.

“y/n where are you?” suna sent you another one. “why aren’t you reading my messages?”

you were literally about to space out from staring blankly at his messages when your phone suddenly vibrated. he’s calling you, snapping you back into reality. 

you sighed before declining his call.

“at home,” you replied to his message. “i went home early then i dozed off, sorry,” you added.

he immediately replied with, “ok ig i’ll go home now.”

you’re aware that his reply was dry, but like, that’s all? some ok ig is all he can reply? but at this point, you couldn’t even care less anymore. 

around 45 minutes later, you were lounging on the sofa when you suddenly heard the entrance to your and suna’s shared penthouse open. you already know it’s suna. he’s the only other one who knows the passcode to the penthouse after all. 

“why did you leave so early? did you even finish watching the whole match at all?” that’s the first thing he told you when he went to the lounging area. so is that really how he’ll greet you? it made you laugh dryly.

“not even a hello?”

“i asked you first.” he’s clearly pissed off. 

“why are you mad?” you stood up from the sofa, walking towards him. “i was there and i watched your whole match. i know you lost the match, but you don’t have to put your anger on me.” 

“so why did you leave after the match was over?”

“what do you mean? i literally stayed there for two more hours before i left.” it’s true. you stayed for two more hours and waited for him. and for the whole two hours, you wanted to go and still congratulate him for his performance, but you couldn’t. why? because he got swarmed by his fans, begging to take pictures with him and getting his autograph.

you tried squeezing yourself in. you loudly called for his name through the crowd, but all you saw was him taking a glance at you before returning his focus to taking pictures and signing autographs. 

“you literally looked at me when i called your name after the match, you just didn’t bother walking towards me.” 

“wait, yeah, i did see you earlier. sorry.” suna doesn’t sound sorry at all. “still, you could’ve waited for me.”

“rin, i tried waiting for you. i tried calling for your attention because i still wanted to congratulate you even if you lost, you just didn’t bother because you were too busy taking pictures and signing autographs.”

“me just only taking glances at you and not walking towards you as i was clearly,” he emphasized. “taking pictures and signing autographs is already an act of not bothering?” 

“so their attention matters more than mine?” 

“i did not say that, y/n. don’t make things complicated.” you can feel the tone of his voice getting sharper and sharper.

“then why are you making it sound like their attention matters more than mine? you don’t have to take pictures with everyone. you don’t have to sign every autograph they request. you always do this but you literally don’t have to do everything they want. they’re just your fans, they come and go.”

“wait, are you fucking jealous over the attention i gave them? when we literally live under the same roof?” suna laughed dryly, his words making your blood boil. 

“of course i’m jealous!” you snapped, shouting at him. “we live under the same roof but you’re out almost 24/7!”

“don’t you get it?! i’m a volleyball player, so what do you expect?!” suna snapped back. “are you even aware that you’re being selfish right now?”

“wait, selfish? me?” you scoffed. “can you hear yourself right now, suna?” you pointed at your ear. “so i’m the selfish one when all i did was sacrifice everything just so that i could choose you?” you pointed to his chest. “when i literally left my family, closest friends, and career on a different prefecture just so that i could live with you here in tokyo to support you on your own career? when i literally had to skip work multiple times just so that i could attend all your matches? when all i wanted in return was the unconditional love that you promised me when we were in high school?” 

the suna that you’re facing right now isn’t the suna that you knew back in high school. he changed. he changed after being a part of the volleyball national team. but despite the change, you stayed. 

choosing him over everything caused you some damage. you waited and are still waiting until those damages healed. you know it hurts, waiting for the damage to heal for so long, but you also think that if you manage to get it healed, you can consider it as good damage. so, if you will leave him midway through healing, then all the damage will be just damage. but now you know better than this. you need to stop choosing him, you need to choose you.

all the things that you’ve been wanting to tell him just spilled as if a dam burst broken. you can feel tears now streaming down your face. “so suna, let me ask you again, am i the one who’s being selfish?” 

that was the last thing you told him before picking up your purse and then walking towards the penthouse to leave. 

suna just stood on his spot, silent the whole time. realization immediately kicked in when he heard the entrance to the penthouse shut close. he couldn’t move even though he wanted to. he wanted to chase after you, kneel after you, and beg for your forgiveness but he couldn’t move. he knows he fucked up big time. he knows he’s been fucking up for years. 

𝐒𝐕𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 | repost, modification, and translation of my works on any platforms are strictly prohibited.

#⋆.˚ 𝐒𝐕𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍 : 𝐇𝐐 #suna x reader #suna rintarou x reader #suna angst #haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyu angst #hq angst #suna rintaro x reader

[dolene]

OH SO DRAMATIC!

pairing: george russell x reader

summary: who knows that his crush over a girl can lead to this?

content warnings: her face claim is keilani lizbeth, britcedes moment, dramatic george, silly concept, cursing, bad summary because i can't summarize this😭

yourusername

liked by caileespaeny, mercedesamgf1 and 397,571 others

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“enough with scrolling through her posts and fantasizing about it everyday, mate. it's not healthy if you do this everyday.” lewis chuckled, patted his teammate's back as george just rolled his eyes at him.

“so, who's this girl?” he continues when he finally found his spot to sit on. his brows going up and down to sign him that he's intrigued. “my friend...? no—i mean we're not. but i've already hit her on instagram, and she responded. she's quite cute, i guess?”

“you guess? ” he arched one brow at him, clearly not impressed with his answer.

he scoffed, “so what am i going to do, then? asking her to go out with me and embarrass myself even more?”

“wait, you have embarrass yourself before?” lewis's smile becoming wider now and george is growing more irritated at his amusement over his miserable state. “you're not helping!” he groans, his phone on his hand is still showing your recent post with his comment being displayed on the very top.

he already imagined the worse when he knew lewis know about his infatuation towards you. from the constant teasing, to the point where he imagined that you'll be embarrassed to have him as your boyfriend. it's making him crazy.

DING! the phone on his hand buzzed as it let out a loud notification sound, making lewis showed his smile once again at him.

he too can't lie that he had put his expectation to the very top, praying that you'll notice or for at least liking his comment to even show that you know him. he is that desperate.

he sighed, whispering to lewis, “d'you think this is the time?”

“at what time?” lewis asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“time for her to answer my comment," george beamed and lewis rolled his eyes

“you're very dramatic. just open your phone and see what she replies. or likes, or whatever, the important thing is just open it first!”

“okay, okay, relax.” he said as he take a deep breath, as if he wants to do something fairly dangerous when lewis is just watching him doing all of these long steps, making him snatched the phone from his hand, making george let out a ‘hey’ as lewis snatched the phone.

  ⤷ yourusername georgerussell63 Damn, I shouldn't put that face on if i knew you'd see.

lewis being the one who sees the notification first is glaring at the text, making george curious and ended up taking back his phone from lewis's hand.

“mate, she replied to your comment,” lewis said, eyes still wide even after the phone has been taken from his hand. by hearing that, george with his dramatic nature can't help but to sigh at his saying: “yeah right, shakira also replied to me.” which makes lewis shakes his head, “that's irrelevant, dude.” he light slapped his shoulder at the end, making george huff a breath after the direct slap at his shoulder.

“oh just open it!” lewis exclaimed, his tone becoming impatient now. his patience has coming thin because of george and he'll definitely going to blame george if their relationship won't work at the end.

so he opened the app after him, and checked the notification center and found your username with his mentioned. upon seeing that, he can't help but to shriek at lewis who's near him, causing him to closed his eyes at the loudness of george's shriek.

“I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS! SHE REPLIED!” making lewis smiled at george, patting him by the back which lead their bro-embrace. “happy for you, mate.” lewis replied to him and he nod at him with the smile is still visible in his face.

“so now go and get her.”

“i will, surely.”

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, jackchampion, and 499,801 others

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username okay i think y/n and george kinda brewing now

  ⤷ username why am i stanning them tho

  ⤷ username My converter ass said i need to stan them, help me to come back to jacoby/n era

caileespaeny Ooo fancy hat!

  ⤷ yourusername Thankkk youu bbg😗😗

username why r u so cool???

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, daniel3.jpg, and 328,749 others

yourusername If I told you that I crashed for a bit, I hope you believe me.

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georgerussell63 YOU HAD A WHAT?!

georgerussell63 Y/N ANSWER THE PHONE

georgerussell63 ANSWERRRR

username Omg George relax pls

username wait how is he having her number?

  ⤷ username BF GEORGE CONFIRMED?

  ⤷ daniel3.jpg he's having too much evidence, i fear that i think about it too.

  ⤷ username RIIIGHTT???

yourusername I'm okay Y'all, George is being dramatic again, but I swear I'm okay.

comments on this post has been limited

sure george has your number on his phone by now, thanks to all of his (and lewis's) effort of bribing your best friend to even told him to hit you up by himself, and fortunately it works.

and hit you up he did. starting up strong with a simple hi, then you answered, and the rest is history. he liked every topic you brought up, and vice versa. or at least that's what he thought.

but for today's situation is quite different from the previous day where he can still share a bit of a videos with you, you said your goodbye for a while as he sim race, and then his phone ring from the instagram notification he has for you.

but that time he doesn't really mind that, thinking that it just probably sort of a promotion notification from an app or something, but then after a few while he checked and found it was your new post: truth be told that he put the brightest smile on his face, excited to see your newest post.

oh how the table have turn, and as if it hit him, his face changed 180° to worry;

yourusername If I told you that I crashed for a bit, I hope you believe me.

he knows that you can't drive, so why bother to even know what's going to happen with you and a car?

his mind is going crazy, how come did you even manage to post that on instagram if you had a little crash?

so he called you, missed call. try to call you again, missed call again. and so on until he thought that he have called you for the 50th times until he commented under your post to answer his call. not caring about anything what people are going to say about him.

the rest of his 25 minutes he spent to think about you and your well-being, and it's totally payed off when you called him, facetiming on the ER. with your face looking as chill as ever with a bandage on the some sorts of your body, and then him with his face looking like he's ready to jump whenever he's ready.

“hey.” you greet, camera showing the bandage that covered the half of your lower body.

“HEY?! WHAT D'YOU MEAN BY HEY?” he squeaked, his voice pitchy like he's just swallowed a rubber duck before he's talking to you. “what happened there?”

“just a scratch, nothing more.” you shrugged slowly, your body's still rigid after they gave you antiseptic to clean the scratch.

“if you concerned, trust me that i'm okay.” but he shakes his head, “you shouldn't get near into the driving seat!” he said, voice cracking a little bit, sounded like he's in the bridge of tearing up.

“i should've had a better driving instructor,”

“DRIVING INSTRUCTOR? babe, i'm an f1 driver, i can be more than just a driving instructor.”

“i know, i just want to annoy you.” you smiled when you said that, making him mirroring your movement. “but are you okay though? be serious.” he said, and you chuckled. “i am, yes, i'm okay. so stop being so dramatic because i'm okay now.”

“well okay then, take care.” he sees you nod, and he smiled at you one more time before hanging off.

georgerussell63

liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton, and 770,497 others

georgerussell63 After ER special 🩺🚑

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username WAIT WHAT THE FUCJ

danielricciardo i knew it

username for fucks sake i expected this to even hapen, but why am i gasping abt this too?

username y'all r dating?? why am i just realize it just rn

  ⤷ username we've been blind this whole time

username so the crash is real?

  ⤷ yourusername Yes it is.

lewishamilton FINALLY

  ⤷ username i think lewis is the one who caused the crash

  ⤷ landonorris same

  ⤷ username lewis you knew dis?

  ⤷ danielricciardo i'm afraid they cooperate for this

  ⤷ username thank u detective daniel 👌😌

comments on this post has been limited

#george russell #george russell x reader #george russell x you #george russell imagine #george russell x y/n #george russell fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #keilani lizbeth #duhyork's artwork ৎ

[aliidarling]

using you

RICK GRIMES X fem!reader

nsfw content — scroll if uncomfortable!!

summary: rick takes his anger out on you after lori's death because he's a self projecting loser and wants u really bad

warnings: p in v, no foreplay, rough sex, pussy slapping, age gap, degradation, mean rick, fingering, anal threats LOL, self projecting rick, old lonely rick, sweetish rick at the end ig

btw thank u everyone for sending me ideas for male manipulator rick pt.2 :) I'm definitely gonna take these into thought and write sum

i wrote this in three sittings like a week apart so some parts might not match up...

nsfw content below!!

Rick hadn’t come up from the basement of the prison in almost two days. No one had seen him, leading everyone to question if he was even alive anymore.

The death of Lori had impacted him. The atmosphere was tense, and not many words had been spoken. No one wanted to go down to comfort Rick, not wanting to get snapped at. Angry Rick was something else.

Hershel was the one who recommended you to go down and talk to Rick. At first, you were against it, because why? Carl was his son, Glenn was the first one he met out of everyone, and Daryl was like his brother. There was no reason why you should. You were just one of the younger girls in the group.

“Because he has a soft spot for you, sweetheart.” Hershel says gently, sighing and rubbing his temple. Your brows furrow as you think about his words.

“What? No— Rick hates me,” You scoff.

Every time you had tried to talk to the man he’d order you around and be cold to you, never letting you breathe without getting a stupid scolding. It was walking on eggshells around him.

“No, no.” He chuckles, brushing his hands through his thin white hair. He sits up. “He cares about you in his own little way, okay? You’re the only one here he wouldn’t hurt. Not that he’d hurt anyone else— but…” He groans. “You know what I mean.” 

You frown at him, picking at your hair. You reluctantly stand up, tossing your jacket on top of your shirt. “If I don’t come back in an hour, you know what happened.” You grumble dramatically.

He rolls his eyes and waves you off, giving you a little grateful smile.

A few minutes later, you were walking down the staircase into the boiler room, a frown painted onto your expression. You could hear angry muttering and the sound of metal clattering.

Just on your way here you had heard him yelling, you didn’t know at who. It worried you, was he already going crazy? Or was someone else down here with him?

As you walk inside the small, dark room, a messy-looking Rick comes into view. His hair was messy, his curls damp with sweat as he grumbled angrily to himself, leaning against a table.

He quickly turns at the sounds of your footsteps, hands on his hips as he narrows his eyes at your figure. What the hell were you doing here? Did no one get the message that he wanted to be left alone?

“What.” He huffs firmly, his body language cold and distant. He was always mean to you, but this just felt different, like he was a ticking time bomb. It made you shudder as you nervously picked at your hair, stepping closer.

“You’ve been down here for a while, Rick. Everyone’s getting worried.” You said softly, looking up at the older man through your lashes. It felt weird to be so nice and caring to him, he had just lost his wife— you felt bad. Horrible, even.

And a part of you made your guilt ten times stronger knowing you were still attracted to him throughout this whole mess. Even though he had pushed you away so many times, called you names, and ordered you around like a child, you felt connected to him. Like you wanted more than a simple friendship.

But the fact he was mourning his wife's death and all you could think was how good he looked with his shirt half-buttoned and his curls messy? God, you were a horrible person.

A dry chuckle leaves him, the sound echoing in the room, making you shiver. His demeaning attitude towards you has you shrinking, wanting the walls around you to swallow you whole as long as that meant you didn’t have to be alone in a room with him.

“So worried they call you down here out of everyone else?” He scoffs.

Ouch.

“I’m just trying to be here for you, you don’t have to be such a jackass.” You sneered at him.

Once the words left your mouth, you felt kinda bad. He was struggling with his wife’s death, and here you were being rude to him.

A small sigh left you as you stepped forward, hesitantly placing your palm on his bicep, trying to give him a little bit of comfort. It was the least you could do, right? You had managed to screw up your entire friendship with this man, but maybe you could turn it around starting… now?

As he feels your touch on his bicep, he turns to you quickly in response— almost as a reflex— and presses you against the table aggressively. A yelp leaves you as you find yourself being cornered by the large man, looking up at him in shock.

Never mind, jeez.

“You wanna be here for me?” He growled, his hand going to hold your throat, not squeezing but keeping it there as a warning not to cross him.

You give him a shaky nod, not knowing what to say or do that wouldn’t cause his temper to blow. It already blew.. But you knew what he was capable of, and you were scared of getting on his bad side more than you already were.

“Use your words.”

“Yeah, I wanna help you.” You press your lips together nervously, giving him a hesitant nod.

His eyes darken, looking you up and down and weighing the options. He hums lowly, his hands slowly wrapping around your waist, his fingertips pressing into your skin through your shirt.

“Huh.” He can’t help but smile at you, but not a sweet one. A mocking grin. You shuddered.

“How about you start off by bending over that desk then? Since you wanna be good for me so badly.” He laughs darkly, flipping you around smoothly and kicking the back of your knee.

You stumble slightly and find yourself bending over the edge of the desk, a huff leaving you as you flinch in surprise. Instinctively, you try and straighten yourself but he keeps one of his hands pressed on your lower back.

“What are you doing? You know this isn’t what I meant—“ You say breathlessly, not having the power to fight back for some odd reason. The position had you tingling between your legs, your stomach in knots and your mouth dry.

You felt ashamed to be so into this. He was coping in an extremely unhealthy manner— but could you even stop him if you tried? Did you want to?

He ignores your words and grasps the back of your jacket, pulling it off and leaving you in your spaghetti-strapped tank top. It was hot in the prison, could you blame yourself for dressing in thinner clothing?

“Always dressed like a fuckin’ slut, begging for attention from me. Think I don’t notice? Hmm? How you’re always nagging me and trying your damnest to spend time with me?” His words leave him harshly as he leans over to push your hair over your shoulder, leaving your back empty for him without any distractions.

“Don’t say that.” You mutter softly, eyes fluttering as you feel his breath brush over your skin. Goosebumps appeared on your smooth skin, lips pressing together to conceal the heavy exhale you wanted to release.

“Why? Because you know I’m right?” He chuckles dryly. His hands rub over your back, grabbing the end of your top and pulling it up to bunch over your chest. Your heart skips a beat and you try to pull away, but he only pulls you closer, pressing his crotch firmly against your butt. He sighs in relief at the friction, grinding subtly.

The next few minutes are him just grinding against you from behind, muttering a mean ‘shut up’ whenever you’d let out a noise. This was for him. He didn’t care about you— didn’t care that he was leaving you needy and aching, all he wanted was to relieve himself.

“Take your pants off.” He grumbles, leaning back just a few inches to unbuckle his belt. He smoothly pulls it out of his jean loops, and then unzips his fly and pulls his jeans down. He’s fast and aggressive, and soon enough his hard cock is pressing against his lower tummy, his tip red and throbbing.

You blink in surprise, but you try and process his words quickly. Okay. He wants your pants off. This was for him to feel better, just take your damn pants off, dumbass. Don’t make his day worse.

Shakily, you pull your pants down to your ankles, your butt in front of him with your panties hugging your curvy hips. He stares down at you, eyes narrowing at the sight of the damp spot on your panties.

“Slut.” He kicks your legs open with his foot before landing a harsh slap against your pussy, making you cry out. Your brows furrow as you try to suppress your noises as he keeps going at it, his rough palm delivers harsh strikes to your sensitive area.

“O-Ow— Rick!” You whine, wiggling your butt as the slaps have you growing more and more wet. This was so embarrassing!

“Had I known you like gettin’ that pussy slapped I would have done it a lot sooner, sweetie.” He coos mockingly, a low snicker leaving his throat. He parts his hand from your panties. His large fingers grasp into your panties and pull them to the side, nudging your legs further apart and aligning himself with you.

“Take a deep breath, baby.” He huffs before thrusting himself inside you with one stroke, burying himself to the hilt. Your body tenses immediately, eyes watering at the large stretch your insides felt at the intrusion.

You immediately let out a shaky cry, clawing at the table for something to hold onto as you try and adjust to the feeling. His girth was thick, ripping you apart. The lack of foreplay and prep had you wincing.

“Awww, did I hurt ya’? Poor thing, little hole must burn sooo much.” His words sounded so mean, his dark eyes gazing down at your figure. He scanned each inch of your body. Your arch, your hips, waist, your hair— it all looked so good. He wanted to ruin you.

You struggle to speak as you feel him sit nice and snug inside you, your sight going blurry. You whimper like a pathetic puppy into the desk, the cold steel making you cringe and squirm. If he was gonna force himself in your pussy, couldn’t he of at least done it somewhere more comfy?

“S-Screw you,” You groan lowly, your eyes already rolling back. And he hasn’t even started to move yet.

“Mhmm, s’okay sweet girl, I’ll get there.” He hushed you gently. Your doughy flesh is so soft to his rough palms, making him smile as he grips your waist a little tighter. He uses your waist to hold you down as he starts to slowly pull out, leaving just the tip before slamming himself back inside. Not even a rag in your mouth could stop the moan that leaves you, your body wincing in a mix of pain and pleasure.

The next few minutes are messy and full of whimpering and shushing, your body quivering as he keeps thrusting into your hole like there’s no tomorrow. You were just a stress relief for him at the moment— a pretty face with a tight cunt he could fuck for hours.

Yeah, he was mean to you even before he decided to fuck you in this boiler room, but that was only because he didn’t know how to handle his emotions around you! You were a sweet young girl with a cute face and a good rack of tits, always trying to talk to him when he had a wife and a son, could he even interact with you without getting scolded by Lori?

He let out a shaky grunt as he slams his hips into you over and over again, watching your perfect ass jiggle at the force he put into you. Your noises were perfect, he had spent probably hours imagining how you’d sound with him inside you. He couldn’t count the amount of times he had imagined you while he was in bed with Lori. He was a horrible husband, but he blamed you for it. You were the reason of his lack of loyalty, so he may as well punish you for it. You were pretty much asking for it the second you came downstairs with that pretty face.

“Fuck, fuck,” He groans, bending over to press his chest flush against your back and pressing himself against you. He wanted you to feel every damn inch of him, feel how deep he was inside your dumb little pussy and how he made you feel.

“You feel that? Huh? Feel how fuckin’ deep I am inside that needy pussy? Can feel you squeezing me, sweetheart, must feel so good, right?” He shushes your cries as he manages to push his cock deeper, his fat head brushing against your sweet spot that has you clenching down.

“Mhm, feels so good.” You sniffle. He giggled lowly at how pathetic you sounded, almost feeling the urge to comfort you for a second.

He’s wanted this for so long. Half the reason why he was spiraling after Lori’s death was because of the agonizing guilt he felt for still fantasizing about you when he had a whole newborn waiting for him. But now he had you, and he was not gonna let you go, and even if you begged and cried— he had already sunk his claws(cock) deep inside you.

His hand reaches to the front of your neck to grasp it and pull you tighter against him, giving your neck a little squeeze. He hums in approval at how your body tightens around him, his hips picking up speed.

“Good, good, jus’ like that, good girl,” He mumbled, squeezing his hand around your neck just a tiny bit more, loving the expression that fell over your face. A few more long minutes of him inflicting a fast and rough pace that expresses his self-projecting hatred towards you pass, the both of you out of breath and sweating.

“Can I cum? Please?” You whisper shakily, a soft moan coming from you as his thrusts continue. Your lips quiver and struggle to choke out words as you feel him repeatedly slam into your g-spot, eyes watering from the pleasure and your legs going wobbly.

“Oh, oh please, Rick—!” A loud moan escapes your throat before you have time to hold it back. You had been stripped down to a cheap whore bent over a table, but you didn’t care, it felt so good.

He answers your question by squeezing your throat, reaching forward to rub your clit. You clenching down on him has him groaning and almost stuttering with his thrusts, brows furrowing as he starts to get a little sloppy with his rhythm.

Without wasting any time, you feel yourself cumming hard around his cock and spasming, crying out at the force. A few more tears slip as you whimper onto the table, shaky hands grasping at anything to hold onto it.

A crooked grin paints his face as he gazes down at your shaky figure, slowly pulling out and watching his cum drip out of your leaky hole.

He hums and gently picks you up and sits you down on top of the desk, parting your thighs open and pressing the cum back inside you. Your eyes widen slightly in shock as his large finger shoves itself back inside you, making you cry out at the sensitivity you felt.

“R-Rick,” You attempt to plead before he rudely shushes you, crumbling apart as he fingers you open brutally. More tears stream as he watches with an amused glint, taking in the sight of you crying as he shoves his fingers inside your pussy violently.

“You can take it, shush, be a good girl.” He mumbles, sliding them in and out smoothly without any stop, his other hand going to rub at your spent clit. He almost felt bad for you, but then he remembered you were the little brat making him think like an unloyal husband— and he resumed with his torture.

Once he has you coming apart on his fingers again, he slides them out of you and whistles meanly, smirking at his slick-covered fingers. He maintains eye contact with you as he brings them up to your mouth, tapping them against your lips.

“Please don’t.” You whine, trembling in embarrassment. Could this get any more humiliating?!

“Shut up and be a good fuck toy.” He grunts. You shrivel and slowly part your lips, taking his wet fingers and sucking gently, your eyes fluttering shut as you didn’t want to look him in the eye while doing this.

After cleaning his fingers, he parts from you and gives you a once over, scowling.

“You’re not too bad when you’re not being an annoying fuck, y’know. Maybe you should bend over for me more often.” He sniggers, pulling his jeans back up and buckling his belt back on. He tidies up his appearance and gives you a side-eye.

“I’m so telling Hershel.” You grumble, struggling to pull your pants back on with limping legs. He rolls his eyes and aggressively tugs them back on for you. You flinch at the force and almost stumble onto your ass but you eventually have your clothes back on you because of his help. You give him an awkward smile, and he just glares at you in return.

“…I guess you could say I did help you, right?” You grin sheepishly, before gasping softly as he pulls you in for a kiss. He mutters a small “Shut up,” against your lips before interlocking his with yours, his hands wrapping around your waist and pressing your body flush against his.

He parts slowly from you, a small saliva trail showing before dissolving mid-air. He stares down at you, before nudging you in the direction of the exit.

“Don’t tell anyone about this, kay? You tell a soul and I’ll shove it in your butt next time, brat.” He scoffs, turning away and gazing back at the wall like the depressed old man he is.

You can’t help but smile as you walk away.

Next time, huh?

You were a little delusional, but why the hell not?

#Spotify #rick grimes #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes smut #rick grimes x reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead #the walking dead smut

[kekeke32]

TOUCHSTARVED trailer theme theory??

Hi guys, hi everyone. Hope we’re doing well!

SO the full version of the trailer theme is finally out on YouTube and holy shit??? It goes so HARD!!! Give it a listen here.

After rewatching it over and over again, I noticed something so I’ll map out which lyrics appear with which character for y’all to see:

Wish I could’ve added more ss but I’m on the mobile app 🥲 Anyways, I really don’t think the dev team added the characters photos randomly ‘cause check this out:

In Ais’s part, the lyrics are about a certain weakness (ik the lyrics “my weakness” refer to a person but I chose to ignore that jskdksk) and survival. This may be a reach BUT doesn’t this reminds you of Ais’s official character description? Specifically of this part: “Ais seems capable of curing you...but a sick sense of dread surrounds him. He's beginning to suspect that he may not be as in control of his powers as he thought. Can you save each other, or will he drag you down to the abyss with him?" This so-called “weakness” could be his very own powers and he’ll need the player to help him, to “survive”.

Now, about Vere’s part, I don’t have much to say tbh other than the fact that the lyrics “Cause everytime we touch” appear for the first time in his part and I guess you could say it’s related to his frequenting at the brothel? (iykwim 😏) Oh! And you could also see him being touched by a lot of different hands in the trailer. Besides that, his part ends with the lyrics “need you by my side” sung softly by the singer hmm…

Kuras’s part on the other hand, starts strongly (I suck balls at describing music so pls listen 4 urselves, you’ll know what I mean😭) and at 1:59 mins the lyrics are “Cause everytime we touch” then his face darkens a little and it stars an instrumental interlude. I don’t know what that really means but he’s sus

Mhin’s part is sung very softly as well and the lyrics “We’ve been through them all. You make me rise when I fall” are so sweet more so because I think in their route they’ll open up more to the player after going together through incomprehensible horrors and we’ll learn how to support each other <33

Finally, Leander’s part!! Now, LISTEN. His part is the reason why I even made this post in the first place lmao This mf is way too sus but first of all, the building synth progression at 2:58???? oh my god I got CHILLS. literal chills. *ahem* Moving on, his part, starts strongly the same as Kuras’s part did. Their parts are the only ones sung like that… Weird, huh? Anyway, after the lyrics “I can’t let you go. Want you in my life” at 3:49, the song gets SUPER intense and starts sounding very desperate ig?? (kudos to Dan! love his voice frfr) and Leander’s part ends with “Need you by my side”. Okayy y'all… Y'ALL. THIS IS CRAZY. In his part we have both the lyrics "I can't let you go. Want you in my life" AND "I want this to last. Need you by my side". AHHHH Leander you obsessed little bitch (affectionate)

In conclusion, there’s no fucking way the red spring team didn’t assign the certain parts of the lyrics very and I mean VERY purposefully to each LI. The parts suit them specifically well so I highly doubt it’s random but it could also just be me reading too much into this

Whatever!!! Good morning/Good night to this fandom only ^_^

#IT HAS A MEANING #this game makes me lose my goddamn mind in the best way possible #touchstarved #touchstarved game #touchstarved theory #touchstarved leander #visual novel #indie games #leander touchstarved #vere touchstarved #touchstarved kuras #ais touchstarved #touchstarved mhin #red spring studios #theory #all the leander theories give me life. #fandom

[darling-i-read-it]

Blue Paint

Dalton Lambert x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: spoilers for insidious the red door, spook spook 

Author’s Note: my decade old crush on patrick wilson was not expecting to make any movement when i saw this movie. However, the much more age appropriate ty simpkins was there with long hair and brooding smiles and i had a moment of weakness. ig up until this movie in my brain he was still 5 and i didn't realize he's older than me

Summary: You are rooming with Chris and are close friends with her and Dalton when he starts to mentally deteriorate rip 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

“Dalton? Woah, woah.” 

Dalton snapped his head off the table. Your eyes went wide as you watched him wake up, blinking aggressively. His fingers were still dipping in the paint but they had dried as he slept. 

“What time is it?” he grumbled. His hair was sticking up. He must’ve been out. 

“7. I just got back from dinner. I was gonna ask why you weren’t there but I guess we know the answer to that.” You looked down at the desk. Whatever he had been painting was now a smeared mess. His cheek had imprinted nothing but blue onto whatever the focus was. 

“Fuck,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean…” He shook his head. “Whatever.” He moved the canvas, starting to put things back as they were. 

“Your face is blue,” you noted. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, now that his brain had caught up to him. You pursed your lips. You lived above him, with Chris. She was the reason the two of you had been introduced and then you ended up going to the same building for your early classes. 

“Chris said something happened at that frat party,” you said. “I just wanted to know what went down from a reliable source.” He shook his head. He was still sticky on the face. Whatever he was using to paint didn’t dry as quickly on his face as it did on his fingers. You put down your bag and looked around for something to clean him with. 

“Nothing happened.” You turned around, giving him a look. He let out a sigh. “I just mean, she was being dramatic.” 

“Chris being dramatic? Now who would’ve thought.” You grabbed a dirty shirt off the ground. “You like this shirt?” you asked. He looked at you, confused. He shook his head. “Cool.” You dipped it in the glass of water on his desk and then cupped his face with your hands. You started to rub off the paint. “I love Chris and I trust her. I just mean, she was saying some weird things.” 

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Ow.” 

“Sorry.” You sat on the unoccupied bed and leaned back. “Anyway. Tell me what’s going on.” He shook his head. He looked goofy, smeared with blue. If he didn’t have such a melancholy look on his face you would probably have laughed at him. “She said something about astral projection.” “It’s this whole thing.” His phone rang. It was on the table, beside the paint. He picked it up, looked at the name, and declined. 

“Was that your mom?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Why don’t you answer?” “Listen, you’re asking me a lot of questions right now and I’m not necessarily equipped to answer a single one of them,” he said, exasperated. You nodded, taking the hint. Instead you sat back up and started to clean his face again. 

“I have nail polish in my room that would help with this. Or, do you have rubbing alcohol?” 

“You sound like my mom,” he muttered. You pursed your lips and narrowed your gaze. “She probably packed something like that.” He looked down at his bag, one of the ones he had left unpacked. You picked it up and put it on your lap. You opened it up and started to look inside. 

“If not, we’ll find some. Or you can go to class in the morning all blue. It’ll really let everyone know how you’re feeling.” He laughed gently. Your eyes flicked up at him. There was something about him that you felt a fierce need to protect. There was a puppy dog aspect to his features, in his eyes. “Ah ha. Mrs. Lambert for the win,” you muttered as you pulled out some rubbing alcohol and a towel. You tossed the bag aside otherwise. And dumped some water on it first, then started to scrub. 

“I can astral project,” he said slowly. You stopped rubbing, meeting his eyes. He was dead serious. “I think. That’s what Chris said anyway.” You nodded slowly, continuing your work. “You think I’m crazy.”

“No. I just think you stopped your sentence with no more details and I’m waiting for them.” 

“I can see myself when I’m asleep and then I’m in this other world. Walking around, except no one can see me,” he said. 

“This paint is gonna stain,” you grumbled. You sat back. “You haven’t talked to your parents?” 

“No. Why would I talk to my parents about this?” 

“I dunno. Maybe it was something you did when you were a kid and they would know about it. Maybe it’s genetic.” 

“So what, are you like the astral projection expert now?”

“Dalton,” you said. “I’m just trying to help.” He let out a sigh. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “Do you really think it’ll stain?” 

“Yes.” You winced. “Can’t imagine you can skip Armagan’s class tomorrow hm?”

“I’d rather face the embarrassment.” You nodded once. “I’ll take a shower. See if it cleans it off.” You nodded. 

“Mind if I hang around? Cleaning calms me. For some reason I think I should be stressed.” He shrugged.

“Mi casa es su casa.” 

“Sweet. Thanks D.” He dug around his bag for some clothes while you grabbed some more napkins. The door gently shut behind him as he left, leaving you alone in his room. The night light and his lamp illuminated the desk. You started to take the stuff off the counter, dumping piles of paint into the towel as you did so. You adjusted the light so that you could see everything. 

As you went to move it, Dalton’s phone turned on. You glanced at it, seeing the face of a pretty woman who had Dalton’s smile. You would’ve known it was his mom even if there hadn’t been a name to go with her phone call. 

You started to put it down, then glanced at the door. 

Answering it would be weird. 

You had never talked to his mom. Granted, you kind of hardly knew him. But clearly he was going through something and you were a strong believer that a mom could help figure anything out. 

After glancing back at the door you swiped the answer on his phone and brought it to your ear. 

“Hello?”

“Hi…sorry is this Dalton’s phone?”

“Yeah! Yes, sorry. He’s taking a shower and I wanted to make sure it wasn’t pressing,” you explained, far too quickly. You cleared your throat. 

“Oh!” She cleared her throat. “Are you one of Dalton’s college friends?” She paused. “Are you a girlfriend?” You laughed nervously. 

“Oh Mrs. Lambert I don’t know-” You started to regret answering the phone. This was definitely too weird. 

“No, sorry, that was a weird question.”

“This is a weird conversation.” You cleared your throat. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah. I was just calling to check in on him, he hasn’t called that much. Would you tell him to call? I worry. He’s a brooding guy and I just wanted to make sure he was making friends out there. I mean, I guess he is making friends, considering you’re close enough to be answering his phone.” She stopped for a moment. “Is he alright?” 

“Yeah! Yeah, he’s…” You glanced at the door. “Actually Mrs. Lambert, I did answer for a reason.” 

“Renai. Please. And I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Y/N.” 

“Y/N. Why did you answer?” 

“He’s been a little…off lately. I mean, everyone understands going to a new place and starting school and whatever. But he was at this frat party yesterday-”

“He went to a frat party?” 

“I don’t have details, I wasn’t there,” you said, and had the heart to imagine him there and laugh. “He’s been acting kind of weird when he goes to sleep. Something about astral projection. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?”

Suddenly she was quiet. She was stammering and then she was silent again. You glanced back at the door again. You weren’t sure how long he would be gone. 

“Can you tell him to call me Y/N?” 

“Yeah. Is there…anything I can do to help him?” She was silent again. You could almost imagine her, biting at her nail, wondering what was going on, what she had done wrong. You wondered what the past had brought with this subject. What happened to earn her silence? 

“No, I’ll talk to him. Thank you for answering and letting me know.” 

“Of course. It was nice to meet you, Renai.” 

“You too Y/N.” She hung up and the silence was more threatening now that the conversation was over. She gave you no real comfort. In fact, now you felt worse. 

“This is for sure staining. Do you think Armagan will care? Maybe she’ll think it's an artistic expression.” You jumped at the sound of Dalton’s voice. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You still had his phone in your hand. He stared at it, confused, his eyebrows knit. 

“What’re you doing?”

“I really think you should call your mom D.” He looked even more confused now. His hair was wet and matt against his head.

“Did you talk to my mom?” 

“I know that’s super weird,” you admitted. “But she called and you didn’t answer earlier and I just got worried. I’m worried about you.” He narrowed his eyes on you. 

“I’m fine.” You handed him the phone.

“She sounded worried when I mentioned you hadn’t been sleeping well. Maybe you should-”

“I appreciate your concern but I’m okay. Really.” 

You handed him back his phone. You had managed to clean up the remaining paint but you hadn’t moved around any of his supplies. You bit your lip and gestured to them. 

“I didn’t move this stuff, I wasn’t sure where you wanted it.” 

“Thanks.” 

“I think the blue is a power movement by the way,” you said. He sat down on the bed beside you. 

“I think I’ll be okay in the morning,” he admitted. “Though I’ll get some weird looks. It might be a good topic of conversation.” 

“For sure! I mean, I’ll for sure talk about it.” He rolled his eyes. “Chris will also talk about it.” 

“She likes to talk.” 

“She’s extremely funny.” 

“She is, isn’t she?” You smiled gently and looked down at your lap. 

“I should probably leave you to it then. You probably have to visit some other realm in the night, huh?” He half nodded, running his hand through his hair. 

“What did my mom say?” You met his eyes.

“She thought I was your girlfriend.”

“You did answer my phone,” he countered. “That was on my bedside table.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Out of concern!” You shook your head. “She wanted to know if you were okay and if you had made any friends.”

“So you told her I couldn’t sleep?”

“Again! Concern!” He chuckled a bit and pulled his legs up onto the bed. He leaned against the wall, looking over at you. You turned around, a playful smile on your face. You wiped it off. “You should call her.” 

“I will, I will.” You started to sit up but he grabbed your arm, pulling you back down. “Where’re you going?” 

“Back to my dorm. Leaving you to sleep or walk or whatever it is you do when the lights are out.” He stared at you. You tried to read his expression. Soft, needy, trying to be guarded but doing a bad job at it. “Or I could stay. We could have a slumber party.”

“I like slumber parties.” 

“Me too,” you said, smiling. “Do I get to grab my pajamas or am I being held hostage?” He rolled his eyes. “Chris is gonna get jealous. She likes slumber parties too.”

“You can invite her down.” 

“There’s only two beds,” you said, gesturing to the two.

“We can share.”

“These are twin beds.” Dalton smiled, a genuine smile. He shrugged. 

“We’ll get close.” You wanted to hit him but refrained, just letting yourself blush. You stood up. 

“I’ll be back down in a second.” You opened the door and then turned around, leaning against it. “I’m not gonna tell Chris.”

“I didn’t think you were.” 

You shut the door behind you, taking a deep breath. Boys with long stringy hair were a downfall to the best of humankind. You couldn’t exactly deny the typical college girl butterflies. 

You pushed open the door to your room. Chris was sitting on her bed, book open at her legs. 

“I’m going out for the night,” you said. You reached for your pajamas. 

“Where’re we going?”

“Daltons.” 

“Sleep over?”

“Yes ma’am.” She raised an eyebrow. “Watching over him. Doing my duties as a friend.” She watched you as you walked around the room, shutting the door behind you so that you could change. 

“In separate beds?”

“Yes Chris,” you said, looking down at her. Her stare remained. 

“For how long?”

“Chris!” You threw your shirt at her. She caught it, laughing gently. 

“Have fun but not too much fun. Make sure he doesn’t astral walk into this bedroom again while I’m sleeping. That was fucking creepy.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Thanks for your support. You’re an amazing roomie.”

“Oh I know.” 

#dalton lambert x reader #dalton lambert x fem!reader #dalton lambert imagines #insidious imagines #insidious the red door spoilers

[blue-jisungs]

after watching soobin's ig post i want someone to write a soobin hogwarts au

and I'd be so glad if that someone was you 😋

vanilla&citrus / coffe&lavender

author's note. OKAAY SLAY?? thank u sm hehe it means a lot !! i feel honoured 😌😌

au. hogwarts, duh + idiot best friends to lovers, mutual pinning🫡 + i wrote it with intention of ravenclaw reader but it’s never really mentioned so it can be read as any house reader ^_^

summary. you’re friends with soobin, a friendly but a bit confused hufflepuff ever since you stepped a foot in hogwarts. while trying to figure out what did he smell in an amortentia potion, he discovers he likes someone.

word count. +- 2127

you were sitting on the bench, next to taehyun, deep in your lecture. munching on some bertie bott’s flavour beans. the sound of beomgyu and yeonjun’s screams and screeches filling the peaceful silence.

“don’t eat this one” taehyun murmured when you grabbed a random bean. you shot him a curious look “we’ll leave it to soobin”

“how do you know it’s a bad taste?” you scoffed and looked up, looking at the gryffindor boy screaming and chasing after yeonjun for no reason.

“a gut feeling” he shrugged and his big eyes sparkled “kai and soobin are coming”

you looked down from the stands and noticed your friends entering the quidditch field. they looked so tiny from up here, like bowtruckles.

you managed to finish a chapter before they arrived to the top, where you were sitting. soobin was panting, cheeks flushed.

“why do you always have to pick the seat at the very top? there’s so much stairs” he grunted and sat next to you. you looked up and noticed his black and yellow tie was all over the place, loosened up and mere moments from untangling. you sighed and leaned forwards him, swiftly fixing it.

kai grinned, whereas your ravenclaw friend just rolled his eyes with annoyance.

“thanks. oh, beans! which lesson do we have next?” soobin smiled softly and leaned over, his head brushing against your shoulder as he picked a bunch of beans.

“potions” you hummed and exchanged amused looks with taehyun. bad flavour incoming in 3… 2…

“ugh i hate potions” soobin sighed and popped a couple of sweets into his mouth. you looked into his eyes as he leaned away. he chewed on them, nose scrunching up.

beomgyu and yeonjun flew up to you when suddenly soobin spat out the beans.

“ew!”

you all started laughing, the hufflepuff trying to get rid of the awful taste in his mouth. you patted his back in a comforting manner.

“poor soobin” you hummed and leaned your head on soobin’s, trying to hold your laugh. taehyun snickered, whispering something to kai.

being this close was nothing new, you and soobin constantly hugged and physical contact was common in your friendship. you could smell his hair, vanilla overtaking your nostrils. it sounded weird but you liked soobin’s smell – his hair usually smelled like vanilla but his skin was citrusy. maybe it was because of all the lemon tarts he loved so much or maybe because of the amount of citrus trees and plants in hufflepuff dorm.

“don’t tell me you plotted this! y/n!” he whined and smacked your arm.

“sorry!” you giggled and soobin scoffed. he didn’t mind, as long as he got to hear your cute laugh.

kai cleared his throat and stood up.

“can we go?”

“oh. sure!” soobin smiled, standing up gently too not to hurt you accidentally.

“need a ride, ma’am?” beomgyu offered you in a dramatically deep voice, chivalric manner.

soobin pouted and reached his hand out, to help you stand up.

“uh, no… i think i’ll pass” you smiled politely and grabbed soobin’s hand. not letting it go, you started walking down from the stands as yeonjun and beomgyu raced on their brooms.

you stared at the cauldron, heart thumping in your chest like crazy. snape gestured to come closer.

“so, um. what is it? i kinda spaced out” soobin nudged your arm, causing you to jerk in surprise.

“amortentia, mr choi” snape grunted, his gaze shifting to you and piercing your soul. it’s almost as if he knew “miss l/n, could you care to repeat to your friend what i just said?”

“well it’s a love potion, basically. the most powerful in the world. it causes a obsession in the drinker, for example for the first person they see after drinking it. and um… its smell is different for each person because it will have a scent like a thing… or a person you like” you mumbled shyly. the potions professor nodded.

“correct. we won’t be learning how to brew it yet but i want you all to take a whiff. what do you smell?”

the rest of the lesson passed with people sniffing the pearly-shining potion. when it was your turn, you weren’t surprised to find out it was citrusy, with a scent of vanilla. maybe a bit of caramel too? but it left no doubt that it was soobin.

beomgyu whined when you wouldn’t tell them and carried on about smelling chocolate and cologne – something that apparently smelled like himself. it did not, in fact. the closest beomgyu smelled like is grass and rain from all those days spent on a quidditch pitch. and smoke from setting things on fire.

“what about you, soobin?”

the hufflepuff boy shook his head.

“i don’t… i don’t know” he whined, adorable pout forming on his lips.

“what do you mean you don’t know?” yeonjun laughed, patting his back.

“it smells familiar but somehow i don’t recall it? i can smell coffee for sure but other than that… i don’t know” he huffed, crossing his arms.

your lips parted. is there someone soobin likes?

you send him a soft smile, trying to look amused. only taehyun could read the sadness glinting in your eyes.

soobin was miserable. all he could think of is why the scent of amortentia was so similar? the only smell he recognised was coffee because, hello, it’s coffee. everyone drinks it!

it’s not like he didn’t know the other fragrances. he knew he knew what are those but just couldn’t recognise them and separate from the strong coffee smell. it was almost like a word that you have on the tip of your tongue.

he sighed and entered the library, hoping to find you. he had enough of the boys’ loud chatter and awful jokes, he needed some peace and quiet. which you were. and with you, he could always allow himself to loosen up and be himself – even without speaking a word.

he noticed you’ve been acting weird too; you also didn’t tell them what you smelled. he brushed it off, guessing you just probably didn’t smell a thing and didn’t want to admit it.

walking further into the quiet room, already spotting you at one of the tables, he took a deep breath. he liked this smell, of books and leathers.

“hi” he mumbled, plopping down next to you. you hummed in acknowledgment he’s here.

“smelled anything similar today?” you asked, a bit tauntingly. ever since that potions lesson, he’d go and sniff around everything and everyone like a dog.

“no…” soobin’s voice died in his throat when you placed a book next to him. he sniffed it and his eyes went wide. that’s it.

you looked at him, amused. he opened the book and took a whiff of the old pages.

“that’s… this! this is the–“ the hufflepuff boy yelped in excitement, causing you to move a hand to cover his mouth. blush dusted his cheeks in embarrassment (and maybe because of the prolixity).

“that’s a nice smell, i have to agree. one of the reasons why i like spending time in the library” you hummed, taking your hand back. he liked it too.

“there is still something missing, though” he sighed, watching you use the dried lavender flower as a bookmark.

“so coffee, books and something else?” taehyun asks, playful smile dancing on his lips. obviously it’s you. anyone would have known that – not even because of the ridiculously well known fact you are addicted to coffee and spend half of your life in library. but also because you and soobin are so painfully blind to the fact that you have crushes on each other. the way your hands brush, the way you blush when soobin compliments you, the way he stutters when you fix his tie… so on, so on.

anybody, apparently, except soobin.

“it’s driving me insane” the hufflepuff boy whined and smacked his books against his forehead. taehyun was curious what’s the smell, though. something connected to your shampoo? or perfume? or something completely different?

“where’s y/n, by the way?” soobin asked, blinking slowly.

“she went to pick some flowers and give them to hagrid” taehyun hummed, recalling your excitement this morning. “should we go find her? maybe the rest is there”

soobin nodded eagerly and they went into the direction of hagrid’s hut. they could spot you, rummaging through purple flowers. taehyun said he’ll go straight to the keeper, to ask him for some tea. soobin called you and started going your way.

as he got closer, a pleasant smell filled his nostrils. the purple flowers tickled his legs, he placed his steps careful not to destroy them.

“oh, soobin! hi” you breathed out and turned around, a full bouquet of hand picked lavenders in your hands. your smile was so bright that it outshined the sun behind you and that’s when it hit him.

lavender. that was the smell.

“–because it smells horribly in his hut, seriously. so it’s kind of a cover to sneak some flowers, especially those since their scent–“ you babbled, reassuming to pick the flowers.

so coffee, books and lavender. it’s funny, now that he thought about it.

you like coffee. he remembered the time when he visited you during summer and since your family enjoys the warm liquid too, you had some coffee beans in the kitchen. you popped one or two into your mouth and laughed at his disgusted face. while offering him to do the same and handing him the beans, all he could remember was the delicious smell lingering in the kitchen.

and the books too! he realised it when he was in the library… with you.

and now lavender. which you also said is your favourite flower. duh, you even use a dried one that he picked for you as a bookmark–

oh.

oh.

“–bin?” you asked, the hufflepuff boy’s eyes going wide almost as if he saw an acromantula.

“you” he breathed out, blinking slowly

“yeah?” you frowned, tilting your head. he definitely didn’t listen.

“it’s you!” soobin gasped, leaving you flabbergasted.

“soob, is it about the beans thing? i’m sorry i left you all the bad flavoured ones but taehyun just has this seventh sense when it comes to the bad ones and we thought–“ you started and soobin suddenly stepped closer, taking a sharp and deep inhale “huh?”

“it’s definitely you. i smelled vanilla and coffee in amortentia. and books too but it wasn’t that strong so… i didn’t figure it out at first” he said, pink dusting his cheeks. you almost dropped all the flowers.

“you smelled me in amortentia?” you asked, throat going dry. if he smelled you then that means… he likes you?

“yeah, i guess! weird, huh?” he giggled, scratching his neck. slowly his smile dropped, almost audible gears turning in his head

“wha… soobin” you stepped closer, heart thumping so hard against your ribcage you thought it may jump out any second.

“y/n” he said goofily, eyes pacing around nervously. everywhere but your eyes.

“soobin, does that mean you like me?” you asked, noticing taehyun and hagrid in the distance.

“well, i like you so…” he shrugged.

“soobin”

it was more stern this time so he looked up, noticing your flustered cheeks and anxious gaze.

“i think? maybe? i never knew! i always prefer to be with you than with the guys, you’re so sweet and funny. and so smart it’s driving me crazy… and beautiful too but… it would be kinda awkward, wouldn’t it?” he started rambling when you suddenly grabbed his hand.

“soob, you dork. i smelled you in amortentia too. but the difference is that i have a crush on you for a while now. and you are driving me crazy too! with your stupid dimples and how clueless you are… and with your pretty eyes and…” you stopped, looking how his eyes widened even more “soobin?”

“you. you have a crush on me?” he stuttered, pointing at himself. as if there was another choi soobin.

“yes” you laughed, letting go of his hand. “if you don’t want anything happening between us, i’ll understand”

“are you crazy?!” he yelled out, causing you to frown “i could never ever dream of even going out with you and you think i’d deny it?”

“well…” you chuckled nervously. soobin stepped closer and placed a quick, shy peck on your lips. freezing in shock, you tightened the grip on the lavenders. the aroma of citrus and vanilla filled your nostrils pleasantly.

he pulled away, blinking in awe. he just did that.

“i… i wanna be yours. but please for the love of merlin, don’t feed me the bad flavoured beans” the hufflepuff boy mumbled, causing you to laugh out loud. oh, soobin.

masterlist <3

taglist.  @geniejunn ,, @luvhyun3 ,, @starlostseungmin ,, @elviransworld ,, @jnks6r ,, @sieunsgf ,, @ethereallino ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @duolingofanaccount ,, @slytherinshua ,, @stxrseungs ,, @ka-ni-ma ,, @iliveforlixie ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @mark-geolli ,, @l3visbby ,, @w3bqrl ,, @ddeonudepressions ,, @yourfavoritefreakyhan ,, @mirxzii ,, @kazmura ,, @primoppang ,, @vnsux ,, @weird-bookworm

#txt fluff #soobin fluff #soobin hogwarts au #soobin x reader #axe’s fun corner #soobin x y/n #soobin x you #soobin fanfic #txt boyfriend #txt post #tubatu #tomorrow by together #txt x you #txt x reader #txt x y/n #txt hogwarts #blue jisungs's requests #soobin crack #txt imagines #soobin imagines

[storywriter007]

(Part 1) Part 2 - You Used to Avoid Me Too (Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader, Leo Valdez x Fem!Reader)

summary: in which y/n finds clarity in her time away from percy.

warnings: cursing, inappropriate humor, mention of the dead, toxic relationship, etc

genre: sadness turned into happiness ig???

word count: 912

----------------------------------------------

y/n walked out of percy's cabin, not exactly sure what she was feeling. she was sad, but she was angry, but was she finally in a state of clarity? who knew? she looked around a couple of times, hoping no one heard the ruckus that had just occurred. tears fell from her eyes. she saw a shadowy figure stare at her for a brief minute before it disappeared.

----------------------------------------------

"y/n! it's time for breakfast!" one of her cabinmates yelled.

"coming!" y/n yelled back, hoping that the cold water had washed away the redness in her eyes.

she began walking to the pavilion, but felt a strong urge to turn around when she saw him.

him with the dark hair and bright eyes walking happily to breakfast as if he hadn't destroyed whatever hope she had in him the night before.

y/n grabbed her breakfast and began walking down to her table, unfortunately having to pass percy on her way there.

"i heard so much noise from percy's cabin yesterday." one kid said.

"my boy got it on last night!" the other kid exclaimed, the table bursting out in laughter.

perfect timing y/n thought as she walked by, suddenly not feeling hungry anymore. she took the apple and walked out of the pavilion and to the lake.

----------------------------------------------

you're not annabeth. you're not her.

those six words replayed in y/n's mind as tears began to fall from her eyes. why would someone even say such a thing?

she felt someone come sit beside her. not wanting to show her tear stained face, she quickly wiped her cheeks and put on a smile.

"i like your smile." the person said.

y/n turned to see leo. a wave of shock passed through her body, but she didn't show it.

"thank you." she smiled.

"but it doesn't hide your tomato eyes." he laughed.

y/n chuckled too.

"what're you doing out here?" he asked.

"just sitting. looking at the view." she responded.

"with a side of crying?"

"maybe."

"i heard you guys last night."

oh great y/n thought.

"we did not 'get it on-'" she started.

"i know. you guys were fighting. pretty badly, i'll add. i heard the glass and the yelling. i saw-"

y/n thought back to yesterday night and remembered there was some shadow walking around.

"you saw me." she sighed. "fuck."

"ing? i thought that's what didn't happen." he laughed.

"haha, very funny." she rolled her eyes.

"i heard the things he said." he started. "i don't think he's right."

"but isn't he? i wasn't what he was looking for and i was stupid enough to think i was."

"you can't change yourself to be what he misses. your job isn't to be the past, it's to be the present and the future."

"i don't even know. i'm so upset. he didn't even love me in the first place and for some reason, i feel like that's so much worse than falling out of love with me. i would've known he cared at one point. but now, i know he never ever did." she chuckled. it made more sense aloud. "and, i hope this doesn't sound mean, but why do you care? you used to avoid me too."

"yeah i did, but that didn't mean i wanted to." he answered.

"explain?"

"percy's my bro, so first, i just stayed away because he wanted me to. i never knew the real reason until he started saying a bunch of weird shit."

"like what?"

"stupid shit. like, 'y/n's hair is different' or 'y/n got a question wrong in math.' it was like he was subtly comparing you to annabeth, while trying to not completely give himself away. i lost respect for him first when he said you were only good during the nighttime, if you know what i mean. i think i lost a more respect for him when he said, and i quote, 'do you guys ever pretend someone is someone else? but then they're not like that person and it gets you pissed off?'"

y/n knew her tears were falling down her face again.

"then i was like, fuck this, i need to ask if y/n's alright. if he's saying all this, you must've been like a victim."

"mhm." she nodded. "i don't even know what i did wrong."

y/n buried her face into her hands as breathing became difficult.

"wait, hey-don't cry!" he panicked. "i mean, percy's stupid anyways. well i know i'm stupid, but he's like really stupid-" he started, trying to wipe away y/n's tears with his hands. "you didn't hear this from me, but he's obsessed with someone who's six feet under, maybe seven, she was kinda tall. it's like necrophilic at this point-"

y/n chuckled at that.

"if anything, he can take the gravestone and shove it up his ass." he smiled.

y/n gave him a weak smile as her tears slowly reduced.

"i'll see you around camp." leo said, getting up and reaching a hand out for her.

she took it, getting up.

"see you around leo." she smiled.

as they both went their seperate ways, y/n just couldn't stop smiling. she looked around as she walked back to the main area of the camp. she saw percy, sword fighting with jason. as she walked by, she locked eyes with percy.

"y/n!" he yelled "can we talk? please?"

"i would love to but i think you've got a gravestone shoved up your ass!" she yelled back.

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pt 2 because you guys requested ittt. it just hurts to make leo the bad guy so we cleared his name up <3

hope you guys like it lowkey gonna write more angst now

#angst #percy jackson #heroes of olympus x reader #heroes of olympus #leo valdez #annabeth chase #percy jackson x reader angst #reader x percy jackson angst #fluffy #pjo #pjo fluff #percy x y/n #percy jackson x y/n #percabeth #heartbreaking #happy