#when you could argue the only reason why he'd do that

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

Ok, I’m arguing with someone about the Todoroki family, and like I get there maybe some responsibility on Rei’s shoulders as a parent. However, they’re saying Rei was abusive towards Enji, that she abused him and her being aggressive and constantly yelling is what changed him. They said he was a victim turned abuser, and that his family emotionally abused him. Did Rei abuse him? Was he emotionally abused by his family? Like the situation was a spiral I guess but in no way did it give off that he was the victim of the family situation???

Tell them to reread the manga. In the best way possible, really. I probably have to reread the manga too because I don't remember all that well the whole Todofam drama, but here I go:

Long post, beware!!!!! ;)

For what I know, Enji's trauma started with the death of his father. That's what motivated him to become a hero. After that, he got blinded by his perfectionism and his jealousy towards All Might.

The only reason the Todofam exists is because Enji wanted a child with both fire and ice quirks. That's why he proposed to Rei. The Himuras were very old-fashioned, in the sense that they didn't even like their members marrying outside of the family so as to not stain their names. Their quirks got weaker with time, they started losing money and influence. That's when Enji arrived: he'd give money to the Himuras if Rei were to marry him.

Now, Rei's trauma comes from her family and the ways of the Himuras. Her trauma didn't start with Enji, but it surely intensified with it.

Attempting to create a quirks through arranged marriages is a dangerous dangerous thing to do. We see a doctor telling that to both Enji and Rei. They were aware of that. The problem with the union of Enji and Rei is that, even if there was love at the beginning —even if— it depended solely on the quirks of the children. A man who willingly pushes away his children because they don't have the quirk he wants and that forces their mother to raise them alone— that's not a good husband or father, you know?

Rei was there to provide him with children and to take care of them. It sounds more like she was an employee than her wife. It was abuse right from the start, okay?

Rei did what he asked. Birthed his children and took care of them. She was submissive at first. Went along with his plans. You know the drill.

When it was revealed that Touya's body couldn't handle the heat of his flames, that's when things got ugly. They knew the risk, it shouldn't have been a surprise. At that point, Enji had put a lot of pressure and expectations on little Touya. He filled the kid's head with lies, made Touya value himself only by his dad's expectations. Touya was born for one reason alone and he had been living for it and it was killing him.

Rei saw that. Enji saw that.

Both tried to do damage control and backtrack, but Touya was too smart. While they told Touya he could live his life as something else than the hero his father wanted, he knew that it made him a failure in their eyes. The stress of destroying her children's lives got to both Rei and Enji. It wasn't something intangible. It was their son burning alive right before their eyes. It was their son telling Rei the truth of her marriage to her face.

Let's be honest here, Rei was one step away from being a slave. She married Enji to save her family and damned children in the process.

I think in order to properly understand Rei's role in the whole drama, you need to consider certain cultural aspects. Like how women are viewed in Japan, what is expected from them once they get married, the power a husband has over his wife, how women get economically trapped by men in relationships all the time... I'm not an expert on those aspects, but it's worth mentioning them.

Now, back to Rei and Enji.

Rei started "fighting" Enji after Touya was fully deemed a failure. You can see that she didn't like the idea of another child, especially because it'd be terrible for Touya's wellbeing. It'd confirm he was not enough. Still, she went along with Enji's plan. It was not a happy house. Enji was acting more and more aggressively, Rei was more and more nervous. Shouto was born and Touya tried to kill him— he didn't want to be replaced, he did not want to lose his place at home.

It started building. what happened to Touya was not confined to Sekoto Peak. It was years in the making, that tragedy. I can only imagine how Rei felt when she got the news. She had begged her son to stay, but her submissive role couldn't save him. It wouldn't be enough.

Touya dies. Enji spirals.

Horikoshi is careful to draw Rei terrified. She tells ugly truths to Enji's face. Is that abuse? Is it abuse if a woman who's being treated like an employee and who had to watch her husband traumatize their kids screams at said man? We know that Enji was physically abusive with Shouto and that he even went against Rei, which made Shout stand up to him to stop him from hurting his mom.

The only reason why Rei had a mental breakdown (freaking diagnosed) is because the very eyes of Enji were enough to make her shake and want to defend herself physically.

It's obvious she was scared for her life. It's even more obvious she was convinced he would hurt her. She was terrified of her own children 'cause they looked like him.

Rei was definitely not the best mother. She didn't deserve to reach that level of abuse, tho.

What made Endeavor be like that is the violence of the society he grew up in and his very own competitiveness and low self-esteem. Then the consequences of his own actions. For All Might and Deku to feel like they need to protect Shouto from Endeavor? For Rei to rather be in a mental hospital than at home? For Touya to go back and decide he didn't want to be alive?

He is textually treated like a villain in the manga. At least at first.

Even if Rei confronting Enji caused him some psychological damage, it's the same as saying that a criminal got physiological trauma from committing his crimes. Saying Rei was the one who made him like that is awful victim blaming.

Enji created all those situations himself. I guess that's why Rei reminds him at the hospitals that he doesn't get to play the "poor me" role, when they all have been dealing with the hurt of what happened to their family.

Later, Endeavor acknowledges it himself. He takes responsibility for it, stops feeling pity for himself and decides to do something about it. Namely, puts his life on the line to solve the issue with the Todorokis. You know how fire is known for its purifying properties? You can say that the Todofam burning together gave them a second chance, somehow.

Their resolution involved Rei taking an active role in saving Touya (same with Fuyumi and Natsuo), while Enji put himself at the service of the son he always ignored and mistreated. I didn't write it, it was all Horikoshi.

So again, kindly tell the other person to reread the manga and then you both can engage in that discussion again. As it is, I doubt it'd reach any productive term.

Hope this answer satisfies you, anon!!!!!

#shan's asks #bnha #my hero academia #mha #boku no hero academia #league of villains #lov #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #rei todoroki #todofam #anti endeavor #anti enji todoroki #todoroki family #todorokis #bnha manga spoilers

[eff-plays]

There's one convo with Astarion that's one of my favorites that I haven't seen mentioned or discussed yet happens (I assume) if you have high approval with him but play a good-aligned character. (This is at 60+ approval, start of Act 2.) It's probably because it's not a romantic cutscene so it doesn't get mentioned as much as the others (or because he's racist in it and some of y'all don't like to acknowledge that he has character flaws), but I think it's vital to his character and to explain his early relationship with a good-aligned Tav.

I would like to break it down a little, step by step. Because we are all cringe here.

First, he claims to feel a connection between Tav and himself, and the reason for this is because he believes he's identified "ambition" in Tav (and I'll explain why he's wrong later, but that's mostly headcanon territory, so we'll ignore it for now).

But, there's also clearly something holding Tav back from realizing their full potential, which is their naivete.

"Just that you ... have a big heart. You like doing what's right."

(The animations and voice acting here make him look and sound so fucking condescending, 10/10.)

However, Astarion doesn't tell them this is wrong, or that he disagrees. He implies it's a flaw, but doesn't state it outright. That's dangerous territory, see, and might predispose them to get defensive and reject what he has to say next.

No, he tries (and fails in my case, but it's cute that he tries, bless him) to manipulate Tav by appealing to that big heart of theirs.

"So I was thinking, what would be the right thing to do when we get to Moonrise Towers? When we come face-to-face with whoever is controlling the parasites in our heads."

"I'm just saying there's an opportunity here. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and liberate the world from this evil."

See what he's doing? You like doing what's right, so what would be the right thing to do? We can keep ourselves safe. Liberate the world from evil.

It's very blatant, but he's trying to appeal to Tav's good nature by framing his questionable ideas as something that will benefit the greater good, something that's morally righteous that they would agree with.

And of course, it's incredibly funny when you ask how he thinks you'll do that, and he fumbles and admits he's not a "details person," but it's also revealing.

He thinks he's found in Tav ambition, when all he's actually found is ability. Tav exercises power proficiently, while Astarion does not. If he had the authority they have, he'd let ambition drive his actions, which is why he assumes that's what drives Tav when they exercise their power. A good-aligned Tav has very little ambition, I'd argue, but they have plenty of opportunity to exercise their power, which they do when their hand is forced.

So what Astarion is saying is, in effect, hey, you have power, I have ambition. Will you please use your authority/ability to do what I want? Here's how it'll totally be for the greater good, I prommy.

This is brilliant writing, and I really applaud Larian for managing to walk that fine line of making Astarion so sympathetic while he's literally trying to manipulate the player character. Because when I first got this convo, my thought was both "wow, I adore how blatant and terrible his manipulation attempts are, it's kind of endearing" and "he's so terrified, it's genuinely quite tragic."

If we control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe. This works only somewhat as an appeal to good-aligned Tav, because it could also potentially sound very selfish, especially if Tav is the self-sacrificing sort. So notice how, when he says "liberate the world from evil", it sounds kinda tacked-on, an afterthought designed to bury his main goal, which is keep "ourselves" (i.e. himself) safe. Like, yes, this will keep us/me safe, but if you're not into that, then it'll totally help the world, too! It doesn't quite work, because he still sounds ironic and like he doesn't believe they'd be liberating anything from any evil (work that 10 Charisma, boy), but that's the intent, I think.

Does he want power for power's sake? Yes. Is he gleefully powerhungry? Absolutely. But he's also fucking terrified, and that slips through just a little bit, even behind the smug and confident facade.

He's trying to get Tav, whom he's seen exercise their power over others, to lend some of it to him, so that he may never fear anything ever again.

All of this from a short, smug convo where he admits he's too stupid to figure out how to fulfill his dreams of world domination.

God tier characterization, 10/10.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #bg3 spoilers #bg3 meta #video #worsties to lovers

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 🔞 | Oneshot

"Does he even pay you?"

Tags/Warnings: Idol!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, friends with benefits situation, major angst, mentions of sex work, smoking, smut, god so much filth, Dom!Jungkook, big dick JK but what's new, did I mention angst?, protected sex, multiple rounds, multiple positions, a brief thighjob, so many feelings

Length: 7k+ words

There is no taglist for this fic. This is a Oneshot.

♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"How does it feel to be a celebrity and ending up with me?" You wonder at him over the music, making him frown before he shakes his head, pulling you in by your hands he's holding.

"What're you talking about babe?" He argues softly, letting go of your hands to hold your waist now. "I've got the prettiest girl at my side, in my opinion. Can't complain whatsoever." He tells you into your ear, voice raised a bit and slightly raspy from his last smoking break.

You just shrug, enjoying the music when some people approach you, talking to Jungkook about something you don't listen in on, even though he's still holding you close. It's none of your business, you really don't want to get too involved with his work and everything around it, but it's clear that he likes to do exactly that.

Jungkook wants you around all the time. Doesn't matter if it fits the scene and situation, if he can invite you or bring you along, he will.

Fans don't know your connection to him. They constantly battle it out in comment sections that you're just a translator, nothing else, that you're staff so of course you have to travel alongside him. And just how they can seem to connect everything to dating if it fits their 'ship' they've got inside their minds, they're also talented in finding thousands of (sometimes frankly ridiculous) reasons as to why it cannot possibly be true either.

While before, someone wearing the same jewelry as Jungkook was a confirmation of a relationship, with you its just pure coincidence. You're an adult woman, you can choose whatever necklace or ring you want, that doesn't mean you're dating him. You're wearing the same t-shirt he wore just a day ago? Maybe you just own the same, or he was nice enough to lend it to you for one reason or the other. Seen near his hotel room? Well of course, you're staff!

The truth is, that you're not even staff at all- but you're also not dating him.

Jungkook has become awfully… comfortable in his trust that fans will brush off every rumor floating around. It's why he's shamelessly grabbing your tits from behind right now just for the fun of it, lips kissing your neck as you slap them off to hold your waist instead. "They'll call it AI-generated or something." He laughs, but you can't shake off the feeling of doubt about that. "And there's no one here filming anyways. It's a private VIP zone, so relax baby." He chuckles, swaying you with him to the beat.

He's right that this is a secluded zone- but that's never stopped anything ever before, did it. One random Instagram live where you're both seen in the background and it's over. For both of you.

"Let's go back to the hotel though. I'm horny as fuck." He laughs, making you roll your eyes with red cheeks to go with.

Jungkook is a shameless person- he doesn't see anything wrong with the things he says or does if they're not hurting anybody. He's got his own opinions and he stands by them, only ever shifting his stance if there's undeniable evidence of him being wrong shown to him. And he also enjoys the more physical aspects of love.

Jungkook enjoys sex to its fullest.

He used to sleep around quite often, his charm and also wealth and status enough to make the act of finding someone willing fairly easy. Most wouldn't be believed anyways if they openly said he'd slept with them- he made sure they never took pictures or god forbid videos, and he also never stayed the night, most of the time preferred the security of his own home where he could politely tell them to leave after the deed was done, his reasoning always having to do something with his work.

'I'm sorry, I got called up to the studio.'

'Fuck I forgot I had a flight early morning tomorrow.'

'I'm really sorry, ah this is awkward, but my manager just told me to a live now, and I can't have you being seen.'

You knew he did this. You were staff at some point, after all, even if not hired by his company but rather outsourced during a particularly demanding schedule and many other employees sick due to a viral infection going around in the office building.

You'd been just another victim of his. But somehow, he ended up biting down too hard- making him taste blood, Primal hunger awakened at the mind-blowing experience he'd had, an odd need to keep you just for himself having blossomed from it all. You were a keeper, you still are- and while it's not really love, it's good enough for him. Close enough.

He reminds you, regularly, that it's not love, with how he never claims to love you, avoids the topic altogether, always tells others you're just very close even when it's obvious just like tonight that you're a little too close to just be something casual. But he enjoys your presence nonetheless. Like a dear friend, just with some deeper layers to it.

Some staff call you his personal prostitute. And in a way, you do sometimes feel like that.

Jungkook is that kind of man who could have sex first thing in the morning. Doesn't even have to wake up fully- if you touch him just a bit, he'll come to life in an instant, if he's not sporting a boner already. He enjoys the exhaustion he feels afterwards, always pushes you past your first and second O, keeps his own saved up for the very last stretch all the time. He draws it out to high heavens, has trouble calling it quits.

Shower sex he's mastered, knows exactly where to step and what position to get into to make it as safe as possible. He loves having you on his large sofa, leather easy to clean after you're both done. Sixty-nine is his favorite dinner for two, though he has to admit that lately, he's been enjoying the more closer positions a lot more. Spooning from behind, lotus, you name it- you've become more than just an outlet for him.

He doesn't know what they call you behind his back. What your unofficial status is. They'd never admit that to him, because why would they? No one wants to get on his bad side if they don't have to.

He's on his phone, free hand on your thigh as you both sit in the back of the car that's driving him back to his hotel. He's gonna get out first, make his way inside, while you'll get in later from the back entrance to not raise any suspicion. It's normal. Routine. You've mastered it by now.

"I'll see you in ten." He winks before he makes his way out the car, rushing past some fans who've found out his location, bodyguards already there to guide him inside the lobby.

"Does he pay you?" The driver chuckles, and you shake your head. "Damn." The elderly man clicks his tongue. "Go find yourself an actual man, dear." He tells you as he parks behind the hotel, watching you move, your phone vibrating in your pocket, before it stops suddenly. "You know what they call you, right?"

"I know." You admit quietly.

"And you're okay with that? You're too sweet to let yourself be used like that. Have some self-worth." The man tells you with a kind tone. "I've seen you around long enough to know that you're kind, and a nice person. Trust me, you can and will find a proper man to love you right. But this?" He shakes his head. "You know he just wants you because you've become routine."

"I know." You repeat again, sighing a little.

"You're not what they say you are. You're just a little soft at heart, hm?" The old guy smiles over his shoulder, watching you unbundled your seatbelt. "Trust me, he won't be sad if you call it quits. I've worked for guys like this for more than thirty years- they'll just jump to the next." He explains, and you smile to yourself, before you nod towards the man. "Never mess with entertainers, sweetheart. They'll always break your heart." he offers.

"I know." You say once more, before you exit the car, and get on your way to Jungkook's hotel room.

You don't officially share one, but he still keeps you around for most of the night. You leave whenever he has to do a livestream or if he wants to go to bed, and you come back if he wants you to- but most nights you sleep alone, because he deems it too intimate for you to stay.

Apparently, sleeping in the same bed is more intimate than spitting on your cunt. Interesting.

When you knock on the door, Jungkook opens. Something's off, you notice it right away, but you don't dwell on it, don't answer. It's none of your business, and he won't tell you anyways, so what's the point in just further inducing his bad mood.

It's quiet as he moves around, since he doesn't talk to you, and you don't know what to say. You wait for him to make his move, and when he doesn't, you get up to grab your sweater you forgot in his room earlier, just to have him stand behind you, hands on your hips. "I didn't forget about you." He chuckles, and you let the fabric slip out of your fingers and back onto the floor as he kisses the crook of your neck.

Maybe jungkook is indeed using you. But you've started to use him just as much, if only to even out the odds, and make yourself feel more than just cheap company.

He slips out of his shirt. You raise your arms to help him take off yours, your naked skin at this point almost a requirement for him every time he takes you. He used to be satisfied with just fucking you somewhere quiet quick and simple to quench his thirst, but over the course of time now nearing an entire year, he's become more and more hungry. Like he wants to crawl underneath your skin at some point, the Idol constantly pushes himself more and more inside your body, not just in a sexual sense. He buys you clothes he thinks will look good on you, has a playlist just for when you're at his place filled with somber lovesongs more about heartbreak than anything else. He claims he didn't look up the lyrics, but you know he's lying. He knows a lot more english than he admits, just so he can pull the 'I don't understand' card whenever he's asked a question he doesn't want to answer.

He lets you wear his clothes without much comment by now, has gifted you jewelry he's worn and liked, laughs any mention of that being 'such a sweet gesture' off if anyone around him mentions it. He's not your boyfriend, but he surely is starting to act like it- maybe the lines are blurring for him just as much as they do for you?

People around you have started betting. On when he's gonna have another one, when you'll be 'swapped out' for something else, or at what point he's gonna make it official that you're indeed more than just nightly company. You don't await that day. It's never gonna come anyways.

"Turn around." He commands, and you do, because that's the easiest way to get where you want to be down the line. Head empty, no thoughts left, fucked stupid by a man who keeps you around for just your body and the familiarity you provide. You don't really mind any longer, long having stopped caring about emotions that are fruitless, bound to rot and die because Jungkook won't ever nurture anything you'd try and plant in his heart. He doesn't want it, and doesn't need it either- if he wants to feel loved, he just has to show his face to his millions of fans always on edge for more content. That's where he gets his love from. Maybe you're just there to feed other desires he can't have fulfilled like that.

He licks his lips as he gazes over your naked upper body, bra long undone by his hands on your back, fingers trained in the routine by now. You remember the surprise he'd shown you when you'd worn one with the clasp up front, face so soft and round for just a second that it felt like you'd just slipped into a dream- but his hunger had quickly returned, because Jungkook is a beast never satisfied. He craves more and more, constantly aims for absolute euphoria, never soft, never gentle.

Jungkook bites. He claims, grips, holds and pushes- he's aware over the physical strength he holds over you, and plays around with the fact almost every night. From tugging on your leg to pushing your head down whenever you decide to please him with your mouth instead for once. Something about the way you swallow around him and swirl your tongue always makes him feral, thighs trembling as the muscles spasm beneath the skin from the force of his orgasm. Maybe that's why he keeps you around. Because you can keep up.

His own shirt is shed, and his hands make quick work of his belt before he helps you out of your pants as well. He'd told you he didn't want to use the bed tonight, because asking for new sheets is always awkward, but he does it anyways- picks you up just to let you fall onto the bed, crawling over you. "What do you want?" You ask out of breath, but he just tilts his head in familiar habit, until it shakes no.

"Don't know yet." He answers. This is new.

Usually he always has a fixed scene set out, knows how he wants to take you right away, but this time he visibly seems unsure where to start. Almost like the first time.

He spits in his hand, doesn't bother taking off the rings, fingers working you up like it's second nature. He knows where to place them, how to move and what patterns to choose- and you don't bother thinking about the possible reason for it. Probably to get you wet and ready quick so he can get to the actual act itself, or maybe he just finds some sort of personal satisfaction from it. You're not sure- and neither do you really want to ask.

You're a little cold, but he'll warm you up soon. Hopefully you won't get sick like last time. Will he find someone else to fuck if you're unavailable?

Who knows. He surely has a lot to choose from, if he so much as asked.

He's got a question on his mind, but visibly contemplates on asking it. His teeth clamp down on his bottom lip, tongue playing with the twin piercings placed there for a second, before he leans in, kisses you. This is one of those things he does that are just outright cruel to you. His kisses full of fever and want feel so burning hot that you're sure you're marked by them for life. Like a signature he's inked underneath your skin almost he claims you again and again like this, with his tongue teasing yours, mouths open and ready to steal each other's breath.

He surely takes yours hostage, every time- and that's probably the smallest crime he commits.

"Have you eaten today?" He asks, and it catches you off guard, eyes opening again, painfully tugged back into reality where he lets his sticky hand run over your abdomen, just to settle on your hipbone. "Your stomach keeps growling." He teases, and you come crashing down. Of course. He'd never actually remember to ask that out of the blue if it wasn't for something reminding him about it.

"Not really." You respond, adjusting your position a little bit, legs trying to pull him closer. "Doesn't matter." You say, and he hums, leaning down again to mouth at your neck- probably marking his territory again, a joke made on a constant whenever you turn up with the blooming bruises on your skin, their origin more than obvious.

"Hm." He hums, almost dissatisfied, but you don't bother to think about it. He moves to lean off the side of the bed, pulling his suitcase closer to get himself a condom, opening the package easily before he rolls it over his length. He seems oddly soft tonight, in more ways than one. Is he still exhausted from the shooting? Could be. He never wants to admit himself that he has to take breaks, thinks that his body can just magically manifest strength from nothing but pure thought, and it used to irritate you, because you felt responsible, in a way. But that was when you still saw more in this than there actually was- nowadays, it's his business, not yours. He's got nutritionists and personal trainers who get paid for taking care of him. It's not your job.

What is your job, really?

Well, you're most certainly not working under his company any longer, and neither have you returned to your original agency either- simply because Jungkook's management deemed you too much of a danger in your position, after the idol had let it slip that you two were having sex on a regular basis. So you just signed an NDA, got paid for your silence, now earning a living by writing books. Modern fantasy novels, where the daydreams you once had can actually become reality, and your hopes and wishes can be dreamed of by other people who have the same.

It's good money. A hobby you cherish.

Jungkook has never asked you what you work as nowadays. He doesn't even visit your apartment, has never seen it before, and he doesn't know if you have family either. He just takes you as his, lets you live alongside him and entertains you whenever he's in the mood for it. And you let him, because these days, he's all you've got. There's not much else you can do than write all day at home or accompany him on his overseas schedules.

You're not sure why he always drags you along, when back home, he won't even call you for days. Maybe he doesn't have to? Maybe his bed at home is always warm. But if that's the case, why not take them on a trip once in a while? Does he have designated women for specific occasions?

Then who will the woman be he chooses to show to the public one day? Number three in his harem?

You can't even truly blame him. As someone he grew up in this industry, his view on the world is warped, shifted, not the same colors as yours. He doesn't feel the same worth in a simple banknote that you do, he can't understand the struggle of missing the bus or having to face an empty fridge.

"Sit up, baby." He tells you, chuckles when you struggle a little to do so- compared to him, flying around all the time actually does take a toll on you. And the petname doesn't make it any better in this moment, as his hands reach out to hold you steady, helping your legs over his thighs, before he guides the head of his cock into you. He wants you close tonight it seems like. Hopefully he keeps holding you, because you're not very energetic this time. "I've got you." He says, and you nod, resting your arms around his neck, hands faintly touching the skin of his back. "Are you cold?" He wonders.

"A bit." You respond. He's probably noticed your icy fingertips.

"I'll warm you up." He purrs, and you nod. You know he will. He always does- always hot hearted in everything he does, even in this. He holds you close, hands on your behind helping you move, your hips rolling a bit too slow for his liking, but he overlooks it for once. You're not sure what's up with him tonight. This isn't him. "You tired, baby?" He wonders, and you nod.

"Sorry." You tell him, but he shakes his head, moves to lay you down, knees pressed into the soft hotel bed mattress as he thrusts his hips forwards.

"It's alright." He brushes it off. "Flight was long as hell." He muses, lazily moving himself. You're enjoying this, even if it's odd for him to behave this way. "Wanna come over for breakfast tomorrow morning?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"Can't." You sigh, arms now moving to lay above your head, eyes closed in bliss. "I fly out back home at 8 tomorrow." You remind him, and you can't see the way his brows lower, face darkening as he realizes he didn't know that. You usually fly back after him. Why are you going home sooner this time?

"Why?" He huffs out, hands grabbing your legs as he pulls your thighs over his, pushing himself deeper now. "You always fly after me." He almost growls.

"I dunno.." You slur. "Management said." You just respond. Why does he seem so irritated by this? It's not a huge deal at all if you fly back sooner or later. He's not gonna call you up back home anyways, so why does it bother him so much.

"Management can go fuck themselves." He argues. "You fly after me. I'll book the flight myself if I have to." he demands practically, slight irritation causing him to have his energy boil up, position adjusted as he becomes more restless, balls smacking loudly against you cunt, pace a lot more ruthless now.

You're finally reaching it. Your head becomes fuzzy.

You don't notice Jungkook becoming almost.. satisfied from that sight of your tension finally leaving. You're nothing but whimpers of pleasure as he slips out of you, hands tugging and pushing your legs and body to have you on your side, the taller Idol now laying down on his side behind you to spoon you, dragging the head of his length through your soaked and slicked up folds. one hand holds up your thigh, helps in opening you up, though you're pretty much gaping from his girth stretching you out moments prior. His lips find your shoulder, your neck, as he pushes himself back inside with the help of your hands-

who suddenly do something new as well, tugging the condom from his cock, making him gasp out in sensitivity. "What're you doing?" He grows.

"IUD." You tell him. "Please-" You beg, and yet again he moves as if awakened from slumber, pushing you halfway on your stomach as he pushes the now bare head of his cock back inside you. This is most certainly new, and he knows for a fact, that he's never going back again.

"Fuck.." He almost laughs, leaning over you now, body covering yours as he just pushes himself in for a good moment, humming a sound of pleasure into your neck as he lets himself relish in the new sensation. "Ah-" He sighs out, before he clenches his jaw, thrusting hard as if to make sure your body will remember him for days to come.

It will. Sadly.

"God, fuck-!" He groans out, holding onto your body now, having turned you onto your side, hand reaching out adjust your arm so he can see your face. Your lips are parted, eyes closed in bliss, and he can't help but have his hand smack down onto your behind that's moving in a way that's way too inviting. He does it a second time, slap clearly heard as he smirks at the way you clench around his cock currently rearranging your insides. He moves your leg to rest over his shoulder, reaching even deeper, hand underneath your belly button pressing where he can faintly feel himself move.

No one can blame him for being absolutely obsessed with your body.

He can feel the way you begin to tighten, thighs shaking a little as you come undone, his hands moving your legs again to close them once more, holding them up, slipping out of your clenching cunt to push his cock right between your soft and wet thighs. it's enough for a moment, though you reach out to touch the tip poking through almost teasingly, making him laugh as he suddenly sighs out, groaning as he spills over your stomach and up your chest. You're breathing heavily, and don't notice you start to shiver, as he parts from you to turn on the light in the bathroom to clean up.

Aftercare is not really his thing- and you've come to accept that.

When you sit up, you stretch your arms in front of you, muscles slowly regaining strength as you wait for Jungkook to finish up, toilet flushing before he emerges again, shamelessly walking without underwear, gaze following you as you walk past him to use the bathroom yourself.

The moment you re-emerge to grab your clothes, he's sitting on the edge of the bed with his boxers back on, phone in his hand. "I booked the flight for you. Tomorrow at 12:30." He tells you as you slip back into your underwear, not bothering with the bra as you search for where he'd thrown your shirt. "Here." He offers- and you slip the garment on with a thanks, only noticing afterwards that that's not yours at all, oversized fabric reaching almost to your knees. "Cute." He comments way too quiet to be meant to be heard, so you don't mention it at all.

"Why is the flight-thing so important?" You wonder, slipping into your socks as he moves around to find the hotel room service menu.

"Because you always fly back after me." He repeats again, clearing his throat.

"…you already said that." You mumble to yourself, but he clearly hears you.

"Fuck alright, god damnit!" He whines in complaint, rolling his eyes. "If you were to fly back earlier, you'll run right into all the paparazzi and shit waiting for me. That's why you're meant to fly back later- so they're gone by the time you arrive." He explains, and you're stunned in the spot you're standing, watching him a bit confused.

So that's the reason?

"It's not like they know." You say, unsure why he's so adamant about it.

"Doesn't matter." He shakes his head. "I'm not having them jump you for whatever reason they might have." He denies, before he sits down in the seat near the window which blinds are shut. "Now what do you wanna eat?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"I'll eat something tomorrow morning." You deny, and he slumps back in his seat, eyes closed and tongue pushed against his cheek.

"What do you want to fucking eat, babe." He repeats, making sure to pronounce the petname before he looks at you with frustration.

"Nothing." You respond. "Are we done?" You ask him, and he shakes his head, setting the menu down before he crosses his arms.

"No." He denies. "What to they call you?" He asks, and you're not sure what he's getting at, shaking your head with brows furrowed in confusion.

"What're you talking about?" You ask, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"What do they call you?" He repeats. "I heard what you talked about in the car when I left."

"How?" You ask baffled.

"Telepathy." He jokes without humor, before he scoffs to himself. "I called you to actually ask you if you wanted to eat something- but you must've accidentally accepted the call without looking, because I clearly listened in on a convo I wasn't supposed to hear." He explains. "Either way, I want an answer. What. Do. They. Call. You." He demands, and you sigh.

"Why does it matter?" You argue, searching for your leggings in the room- finding them over the armrest of the chair he's currently sitting in. "I'm your personal prostitute, just without the pay." You tell him, and it takes him a second to realize that that's your answer.

Suddenly, he wants you out the room.

Not because he doesn't want you here any longer, but because the guilt is eating him alive with ever second he has to look at you. Because the more he think about it, the more it becomes obvious to him that this really must look like just that to everyone. After all, he's just taking you with him apparently for sex, and he's become so comfortable in it that he didn't think about it any longer. It's what you want too, right?

Jungkook has never really learned how to convey his emotions properly. He doesn't know what it's like to fall in love, has no idea what to look out for. He likes spending time with you, and enjoys the sex to the point that he's been monogamous with only you for the past year or so. It's nice to be in a relationship, even though he knows this one isn't normal. It's still okay, because down the line, you understand each other. He likes you, he just doesn't want people to use that against him or you at some point- so he keeps your status to himself. No one needs to know you're a couple. Only you and him. Because.. you know that, right?

"You know that's not what you are to me, right?" He asks, and you shrug.

"Does it matter?" You ask. "It's none of my business who I am to you, or whoever you screw apart from me." You say.

"What?" He asks, crossed arms unraveling. "I'm not fucking anyone but you." He says.

"Cool." You say.

"Cool? That's it?" He argues. "How can you be so calm about everyone else telling you I'm apparently cheating on you?" He worries, and you're yet again confused.

"What're you talking about?" You ask. "That's got nothing to do with cheating." You say.

"No no no no whoa there. Stop for a second." He holds his hands out as if to soothe a raging crowd of people, looking at the carpet. "You- you do know we're in a relationship, right?" He asks you, and your face tells him everything he needs to know. "Oh my fucking god are you kidding me…" He complains into his hands, covering his face in frustration.

"How the hell was I supposed to know?" You say, now with your own arms crossed. "Jungkook, you rarely even talk to me when we're back home. You only take me with you when you've got something up overseas, you constantly tell people we're just friends, you've never even asked me out in the first place!" You argue.

"We've been fucking each other for almost a year, I thought it was obvious I liked you?!" He whines, looking at you with what you realize are tears brimming on his waterline. Why is he so emotional now? "Have you- did you see anyone other than me?" He asks quietly, and you shake your head.

"No." You deny.

"Okay. Fuck- okay." He takes a deep breath, swallows down his panic. "I like you. I don't- I've got no clue if it's love or not because I don't know, alright? But I like you, a lot, to the point where I want us to be something permanent." He tries to explain. "Just us. You and me." He underlines, and you shrug.

"Jungkook, it's not that easy." You sigh. "If this has been what you think a relationship is like, then we won't work out."

"Alright, then what do you need me to do?" He argues, not letting go. "God- fuck, tell me what do I have to do to make you stay?" He asks, voice cracking.

"Jungkook, calm down-" You start, but he shakes his head, swallows thickly, bottom lip quivering for just a second before he licks over it, pulls it in between his teeth.

"I can't-! Not when it sounds like you're gonna leave me-" He worries.

"I'm not, don't worry. I'll stay. Just.. breathe for a second, alright?" You ask, getting up to walk closer, pushing his shoulders back to force him out of his slumped over position. "Hey- okay?" You ask, and he instead pulls you closer, sits you onto his lap, before he clings onto you, resting his forehead in your shoulder. "Why do you never reach out to me when we're home? You're confusing me." You gently tell him, and he shrugs.

"I'm scared they'll see you." He sniffles. "If they do- they'll tear you apart." He sighs. "When we're out here, like this- I can just.. claim you're staff, whatever. But at home- I can't.. I don't know how to protect you." He shakes his head.

"You should've told me." You sigh, leaning into him. "I was hurt, you know?" You tell him.

"I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry." He apologizes, pulls you just a bit closer. "I don't know what to do." He whines.

"What if you just visit me instead?" You offer. "They don't know where I live. And my windows are all mirrored so no one can look inside." You tell him.

"…since when?" he asks, leaning away from you a little so that you can finally see his face again, eyes red, a stray tear escaping him that you wipe off.

"Since a few months ago? Jungkook you don't even know my apartment in the first place. You've never visited me at all, ever!" You laugh, and he sighs.

"I know, and I.. always wanted to, you know, visit you.. spend time with you but.." He runs a hand over his face.

"You're okay. We talked about it now." You nod, an action he copies. "I'll come back tomorrow morning and we can have breakfast together, okay?" You ask, but he shakes his head.

"No, you gotta stay." He denies. "I don't care if you don't like that, but I need you close tonight." He says.

"Never said I don't." You say. "You just seemed uncomfortable with it." You wonder.

"Because I snore!" He whines, throwing his head back. "I snore, I move a lot, I might cling to you at night or I sweat, or whatever the fuck- I'm not as perfect as I'm made out to be." He complains.

"Jungkook sorry, but what the fuck." You laugh, and he can't help but smile at the sight and sound of you happy. "You can fart and burp like whatever, and I'd still stay. You're human, I'm not perfect either!" You explain, but he shakes his head, leaning forwards to kiss your already blossoming bruises on your neck.

"No, you are." He says. "You're absolutely perfect." He argues.

"Not really." You deny.

"Stop arguing." He complains, squeezes your waist a bit.

"What're you gonna do about it?" You tease, and he looks up at you with a heated gaze.

"Get me nice n' hard and I'll show you." He responds, making you giggle with eyes rolling, as you lean back to tug him out of his underwear, a hiss leaving him. "Fuck, baby your hands are icy!" He laughs, leaning back to hold your legs so you don't slip off of his thighs.

"That's cause it's cold in here!" You joke back, warming your hands up on his already heated length, skin already flushed and swelling as the blood rushes back. His hands travel beneath the shirt you wear, softly grabbing at the flesh of your chest, making you get up to shed your underwear and get back onto his lap.

"Think you can ride me on this thing?" He asks, talking about the seat he's sitting in. "Kinda tired right now, won't lie."

"Huh, making me do all the work now?" You raise your brows. "And here I thought you wanted to take us seriously.." You sigh, attempting to joke- but he clearly doesn't take it as such, face becoming serious again.

"Lift your hips a little." He demands, and you do so- unsure what he's trying to do, before he spits into his hand once more, feeling you up between your legs to check if you're ready. You are- quickly slicking up at the thought of him, and he guides his length inside of you again, stretching you out once more, but this time, it's not just sex.

He refuses to move. He just helps you settle on his lap, but holds onto your hips, keeping you from moving. "Jungkook-" You whine, but he shakes his head, and pulls your face closer to kiss you.

"No, I wanna stay like this for a bit." He denies.

"But I thought we wanted to eat something later?" You ask, making him roll his eyes.

"I'm trying to be romantic here." He complains.

"By putting your dick inside me?" You ask.

"Well I don't know what else to do!" He whines. "I.. I don't really know how else to properly express.." He falls deep into thought for a second or two, before he finally says it. "I don't know how else to make sure you can.."

"..feel how much I love you."

You're quiet for a good while, watching how he rather looks at your neck than at you in particular, avoiding eye contact as he continues to move his hands back to your sides underneath your shirt. "Jungkook…" You mumble, and he cringes.

"Don't-" He sighs, clicks his tongue in irritation. "-don't pity me or something-" He begins.

"No no no I'm not pitying you I just-" You cut him off, now your hands holding his cheeks to force him to look at you. Because you just realized something in the things he's said earlier. "Remember how you said.. you want me to fly back after you?" You ask, and he nods.

"Yeah." He answers, his way warmer palms now taking yours from his face, holding them in his. "Of course."

"That's.. something that also shows that you care about me." You say. "Because, you didn't say that you were worried about someone spotting me and putting your career on the line- but that you were worried about me being in danger." You remind him, and he nods. "Or how you noticed my stomach growling, and wondered if I ate today." You giggle.

"I already wondered if you didn't- cause I didn't see you eat anything." He shrugs.

"See?" You hum towards him, running your hand through his hair. "That shows you care, too." You say.

"But I want you to feel it." He complains stubbornly. "I want you to.. feel the same as I do when I'm around you." He offers.

"Horny?" You ask, and he rolls his eyes, throwing his head back.

"That too-" He laughs. "But mostly.. just, I don't know." He takes a deep breath. "It's hard to explain. It's like chest constricts when I'm not around you. Whenever I'm home, I miss you so bad that I sometimes go to sleep early just to avoid giving in and calling you. I have to distract myself just to not think about you- and yet I still do, almost all the time." He sighs, tucking your hair behind your ears. "When I wake up.." He hums, hands moving to your shoulders. "When I do my morning routine.." He explains, letting his fingers travel over the length of your arms. "When I work out.." He continues. "When I go to bed. It doesn't matter at all." He shakes his head.

"You know you don't have to make up something just to make me stay, right?" You ask him, and at that, his eyes immediately snap back up to you, panic returning.

"I'm not." He denies instantly. "I'm really not-" he urges. "-how can I prove it?" He worries.

"You.. listen, it's not something that you can just clear up in a moment." You sigh. "It's gonna take time. We're basically starting from scratch here." You explain, and he nods.

"Do you.. should we stop then?" He asks, glancing between your bodies for a second. "Until you believe me?" He wonders, and you shrug, before you shake your head.

"No." You deny. "I'd miss you too much-" You tell him, before you adjust your legs, arms around his neck. "-And you'd probably go insane without sex." You tease.

"Not without sex." He denies, watching how you begin to move your hips, letting him slip out until just the very tip remains inside you. "But without you." He clarifies. "It's not sex I want- that's a… I don't know. It's the closeness I feel, you know?" He sighs when you sink back down. "I just like touching you.. being inside you.." He hums, eyes fluttering closed as he leans back into the seat while your hands settle on his shoulders to keep you balanced, pace slow but fast enough to intensify the pleasure you both feel. "Just like that.." He sighs out in bliss.

"I have a really nice couch, you know?" You hum towards him, making him smile while his hands find your waist. "My bed is really big too.." You tell him, and he opens his eyes a little at that.

"Big enough for two?" He wonders, and you shrug.

"Guess we have to find out." You tease, and he nods, hands moving from your waist to your hips before one of them finds your heat between your legs where he can see his cock disappearing inside you.

"Is the couch sturdy?" He wonders, fingers playing with your clit now, making the muscles in your thighs twitch.

"Ah- yes!" You whine, picking up your pace.

"Hm, gonna fuck you on it then." He chuckles. "Stress-test it." He jokes, and you whimper as you come undone, your slick now coating his own legs, strings of the sticky fluid keeping you both connected, wet sounds echoing off the walls of the hotel room. "Break it." He growls, heels on the ground helping him in shifting his hips upwards into you, catching you off guard, your orgasm washing over you in a wave threatening to drown you.

You're shaking, but you still move, needing to feel him reach his high as well, and he does find his own release, spilling whatever he's got left to give, holding you close, kissing whatever skin he can reach from how you're hugging him now, breathing slowly easing again.

And he keeps you like this, uncaring of the food since it's by now too late to order any roomservice anyways.

And for the first time, he actually sleeps next to you, in the same bed-

promising himself to do everything he can to keep you this close, for now and as long as you'll have him.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagines #jungkook imagines

[dadsbongos]

ANOTHER ONE

fucking stupid part 2 i did for my yuuji fic for ao3 :) and decided to post here lol

2.1 K words

warnings - 18+ mdni !!, pwp, penis IN vagina, thigh fucking, tummy bulge (+pressin on it), minor headlock action, yuuji is hesitant but not NOT into it, a lot of drool, mentions of sukuna's cannibal past (not sexified)

Yuuji excels at the single most important tenet of being a boyfriend.

Compromise.

A giver at heart and selfless and so, so loving, he practically bends to your every whim - something Nobara and Megumi love teasing him over. Yes, he would crab walk over glass if you so much as asked, but he will not bend to this.

“I don’t trust you,” Yuuji is stubborn on this, and this alone.

“I’m the reason you’re with her!” the red eye stabs him through your bathroom mirror, “You forget that, vermin!”

“You’re literally in my body,” he sighs, “And keep your voice down, I don’t want her hearing us argue,” at the unimpressed stare Sukuna levels him with, Yuuji only sighs louder, “I don’t know why you even think she’ll want you.”

“I know her body more than you could ever hope to, worm,” if Sukuna notices the way Yuuji huffs, he certainly doesn’t let it be known, “Studied it to perfection years ago, and spent my time in solitude remembering every detail. Every stretch mark and curve and swell of fat - I know her body better than you. I know it.”

Well, he was stubborn on this.

“Be nice,” Yuuji grips the smooth counter of your sink, he could never hold out against you and your batting lashes and sweet voice, “I’m taking over the second she seems upset.”

Another low-lidded, testing glare from Sukuna, and Yuuji shakes his head before throwing the bathroom door open.

“Well?” your fingers lace together in your lap, bottom lip tight between your teeth.

Centuries ago, in different bodies, the two of you were in this same position - with a different question on your lips.

“Well?”

“Well, what?” Sukuna had settled in beside you, the tatami mat squishing beneath his heavy weight and he still towered over you, “Speak up.”

“Well,” you leaned back, head falling against your pillow and fluttering your lashes up at Sukuna, “Would you eat me?”

Rolling over, Sukuna planted a knee between your legs with two arms holding himself from crushing you, the remaining two curled around your waist, “How do you mean, hm?”

Reaching a hand up, your soft palm cradled the unhardened side of his face, giggling when his tongue lolled against the tip of your thumb, “You know how I mean.”

He did. It’s something you’d mentioned since falling into poor health - a stiff question that leaves his heart cold and skin raised. When he should’ve been used to this. He was. He’d eaten many people before you and, even then, he was certain he'd eat many people after you. You’d fed him. You’d helped Uraume cook his meals. You were used to this.

Sensing his hesitation, you slid your hand from his cheek to ghost your fingertips over his lips. Kissing the pads of your fingers, Sukuna’s lids were low as he stared down at you - and he knew the answer you didn’t want to hear.

“It’d be an honor,” you cooed, because of course you already knew which way he was leaning, “To be with you like that. Forever.”

“Greedy,” he teased, slipping from his knees to sit back. He scooped you up with his hold around your waist to settle you atop his lap, his other two hands cupped your cheeks. Your own hand moved down to the base of his throat, fingers tracing the bridge of his collarbones, “Eating you would be a disservice to this beautiful body.”

The word is nourishing, spring water on a dry tongue. You used to fear a long, drawn-out death (not death, not around Sukuna), you’ve seen these same sunken eyes and shaking hands in others. And you did not find them awe-inspiring. But Sukuna has given you no question if his eyes still fell upon you kindly.

You frowned and he scoffed, “You won’t even think about it?”

But Yuuji has no idea about any of that.

Yuuji sits beside you and takes your hands tightly between his, “I can always come back.”

“I know!” you lean in and kiss his cheek sweetly, “I’m just curious.”

Because there has to be something Sukuna can offer if he insists on maintaining this obsession with you (in front of your boyfriend, no less).

…

“Are you nervous, bunny?”

Your heart beats in your throat. Your palms soak into the sheets when you grip them. Your bottom lip is on the brink of bleeding between your teeth. But no, no you are not nervous.

No matter how much you probably should be. And no matter how much it should’ve taken, Sukuna doesn’t take long to put you on your back - lips locked to yours. He cackles cruelly when you huff after he pulls away.

Sukuna binds your knees together, plush thighs trapped against one another. Releasing one knee just to feed his cock through the wetted spot between your thighs, he quickly flushes his chest against the back of your thighs. Both arms winding around your legs to keep them shut around him.

“So wet from just a little kissing,” he stares down at where the head of his cock peeks out, kissing your clit on the way. He fucks your thighs slowly, taking earnest joy in how you whine.

Your teeth sink into the back of your hand at the sensation of Sukuna parting your lips and bumping your clit with his dick. He groans, deep in the back of his throat, when he can feel that gush of slick from your cunt.

“I knew this brat couldn’t care for my bunny as I can,” he slips from between your thighs entirely to press his tip inside you. Your chest rises in a quick gasp, jerking at the intrusion, “You missed me,” he states simply, settling his weight on his elbows beside your head as he teases slow thrusts, “Cunt’s sucking me back in,” he snickers at your squeaking as his hips speed up, “You missed me so much.”

You have no idea what he’s talking about. But you can’t call him on it when he’s clawing at your sides and thighs to flip you onto your stomach, perking your hips snugly against his.

“I’ve seen him,” his hand presses against your lower belly, thrusting down and deep and hitting that spot Yuuji magically detects and obsesses over - that spot that makes drool humiliate the corners of your lips, “That brat abusing your poor clit. Like you can’t cum without it.”

“Huh…” your mushy brain barely registers the disrespect to your boyfriend, “hey…!”

“Do you wanna show him I can fuck you better?” despite that questioning lilt, you don’t think a response could change his pre-determined mind, “I can make you cum without setting a fire between your legs.”

He pulls out slow and miserable, smoothing the hand not on your tummy down your back and curling into your hair.

Sukuna leans his weight into you when he bottoms out, he laughs watching your cheek smush against your mattress. He laughs as his hand untangles from your hair to squeeze around the soft fat of your hip. He laughs when you wheeze with the springs as he pulls out and thrusts back in, rolling his hips flush against you.

“What a good bunny I have,” he coos, slicking his hot tongue over the exposed flesh of your neck, relishing in how his skin audibly pap, papa, paps against yours. You moan, lightheaded, and your forehead hangs into your pillow. He presses on that spot where he bulges inside you, going mad over the choked gasp in your throat, “My sweet bunny.”

Curling an arm around your throat, Sukuna’s muscles squeeze around the soft flesh of your neck. Desperately, the skin of his chest clings to your back as he leans down, teething at the sensitive spot on your shoulder - the one Yuuji bites and the one he bit for himself centuries ago. Licking the sweat from your body and cackling as you squirm under the slick, wet run of his tongue.

His hips quicken, borderline battering that spot in your cunt to really make you messy. You bury your face into the soft pillow, but Sukuna ‘tsk’s and undoes the arm from your neck to lift your chin. He licks up the drool from your lips and swallows the pitchy moans he’s been starving for from behind Yuuji’s ears.

He consumes you, melding your skin to his and ensuring you cannot leave again.

“Good- “ he grits it between clenched teeth, “girl! Good girl. Good girl,” he grunts each word between thrusts. He groans, thick and gravelly, digging his nails into your soft skin, “My best fucking girl.”

Your face is on fire, the backs of your thighs clinging to Sukuna’s, and the wetness of your cunt stringing between the both of you. Loud, sloppy echoes of that wetness only make the fire burn hotter. You whine, hands scrambling back and clinging to Sukuna’s thighs, nails biting into the thick muscle.

“Aw, you’re squeezing me,” Sukuna refuses to slow down, bouncing your body on his cock from behind, “Are ya gonna cum, bunny?”

And any respect you were trying to maintain for your out-of-commission boyfriend is quickly tossed aside, “Yes! Yes, ‘m gonna cum, Sukuna…!”

“You want me to make you cum?” he reaches both hands down and takes hold of your face, fingers dipping into your open mouth, “Say it, bunny - fuck - say you want me to make you cum.”

As best you can through his fingers parting your lips and pressing on your tongue, you cry, “Please, Sukuna- please, please make me cum. Wanna cum, wanna cum with you, need you to make me cum…!”

“Need me,” Sukuna repeats, palms soft against you despite bullying his cock into your weepy hole, “Need me, need me, need me…”

“Uh… huh,” you whine, the coil in your stomach eats at itself and your thighs shake, “Need you, Sukuna! Need - hah! - need… cum, please!”

“Cum for me, bunny,” he teases his fingers further into your throat, just to see if you’ll remember.

“God- fuck!” your hands cinch around his thighs just as your cunt does to his cock, tugging him closer, deeper as you finally soak him in your cum. Chanting his name with a sugary, soft, “Sukuna! Sukuna! Sukuna!”

You don’t seem to recognize it, the need to cum overshadowing the need to meld your bodies into one.

His cock spits hot cum in your tight, sucking cunt despite the realization. He keeps himself pressed against you, dragging his fingers from your mouth and circling his arms around your soft waist.

Sukuna rolls onto his back, pulling you on his chest and letting his softening cock slip from you. He peppers your raw, marked shoulder in tender kisses - then moving to your neck - then your cheek. He feels your cheeks ball up in a grin under his attention.

Your ditzy head falls against his shoulder and he doesn’t know how much longer he has like this. So he ignores the cooling saliva on his fingers and the mixed cum flowing from your hole and onto his thigh. He never minded the mess before, and he certainly doesn’t mind it now.

“Don’t forget me, hm?” you blink up at him drowsily, “If you ever get tired of that brat.”

You don’t remember asking him to gobble you up, and you don’t remember wanting to clutch his hand in your final moments, but you still see something in him. Something he thought was sealed away long, long ago.

He misses you. Whatever life you shared, he hasn’t been able to mourn.

Giggling, you nod and kiss his cheek. He slips hair from your hair and studies the way you flutter into sleep. Commits it to his memory and lets Yuuji take back the body with little more than a scoff.

You rouse later in the night, feeling your bed dip beside you, a thick warm arm sweeping you into an equally warm chest. A steady heartbeat ba-dumps into your ear. You nestle into the cradle.

“Cleaned ya and then showered,” Yuuji murmurs, lips soft against your forehead, “I take it you liked the big guy?”

Snorting, you nod sluggishly, cheek sticking to his skin, “Mhmm.”

“Good,” he suddenly groans, “Sukuna doesn’t know anything!”

“Mh?”

“I can make you cum without your clit,” he pouts, looking down at you despite your closed eyes, “You believe in me, right, babe?”

“Mhm.”

“Exactly. Thank you!” he kisses your forehead this time, “Alright, we’ll try that another day. Get some sleep already, jeez!”

“Hm!” you huff fitfully.

“Okay, okay,” he whispers, “Shutting up now.”

And, for now, you ignore how right it felt to have Sukuna’s mean fingers fucking your mouth.

~~~

people i think will be into this @moonlitdivination @kingofthe-egirls

#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #yuuji x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x you

[steddieas-shegoes]

shit talkin' up all night

for @steddiesongfics song 'for the first time' by the script

rated m | 1,469 words | cw: alcohol, arguing | tags: angst with a happy ending, established relationship, robin buckley deserves an award for saving their relationship everyone say thank you robin, they're in love, eddie is just dumb for a bit

◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️

The arguing started when Steve suggested they move back in with Wayne.

They were struggling; Eddie wasn't an idiot, he could see the told his unemployment was taking on their financial situation. They were able to cover rent from Steve's paycheck, but they had to cut back on literally everything else. No more date nights, no more trips to visit Dustin, no more buying the good bacon for breakfast.

It wasn't for lack of trying, it's just that Eddie only had a GED and no marketable skills outside of playing music. Any job he could get would make miserable.

"I just think if we take some time to save up, maybe you'll be able to find something you like and then it'll be better," Steve shrugged.

"I'm not moving back in with Wayne. He did enough for me already."

"Then I'll get another job."

"No, you're not working two jobs. I'll just...go work at the McDonald's."

"Eds, you would hate it there."

"Well, it's a paycheck."

Steve sighed and walked away.

And then it got worse.

Eddie did find a job. He worked part time at the music lesson school. It didn't pay nearly enough, but it was something.

Until one of the parents found out he was working there and threw a fit and he got fired. The owner apologized, but said if it came down to his business and Eddie, he had to let Eddie go.

Back to square one.

Steve was too understanding. It was frustrating.

Eddie started arguments just to make him mad.

Whatever would push him: leaving all the dirty dishes in the sink, staying out late without letting him know, buying the good bacon for breakfast when it wasn't in the budget.

It did start to work eventually.

"Why are you doing this?" Steve asked eventually, after two nights of Eddie coming home late for no other reason than to make Steve upset. He hadn't even done anything, just walked around downtown for a couple hours and thought about how much of a failure he'd been.

"I'm not doing anything," he'd say back.

Steve would push.

Eddie would push back.

Little things turned into big things.

And then Eddie came home drunk.

He hadn't even been to a bar, he hadn't been with anyone else. He'd gotten one six pack of beer and realized halfway through it that he hadn't eaten all day and kept drinking anyway.

The buzz was great until he was stumbling through the front door, waking Steve up from his half-slumber on the couch of the apartment.

Steve didn't even argue. He just shook his head and went to their bedroom, closing the door and making it clear he didn't want to be around Eddie.

The next morning, Steve was already gone when Eddie managed to roll off the couch.

"Steve's not gonna say it, so I will," Robin's voice made him trip over his boots on the floor. She was sitting in the armchair, glaring at him. "You're pushing him away because you don't think you deserve someone who is patient and loving. He used to try that shit with me, with the kids, with Hopper. Started shit just to see if we'd leave. Pretended he was the only one who could deal with his problems."

Eddie blinked back at her, vision blurry from sleep and unshed tears. He wasn't gonna cry in front of Robin.

"I could understand why he did it. He had shitty parents and shitty friends before all of us. Took him some time to get used to being cared for." Robin leaned forward. "But you've had Wayne for a long time. Us. Steve. So what is it that's causing this? Why are you hurting Steve? Why are you hurting yourself?"

Eddie had been to therapy for a month or so after everything. The government insisted on it. He'd even done what they asked of him. Talked about everything that happened, talked about his childhood, talked about being gay in a town that thought being gay was bad enough to send you to hell, but somehow still the least of Eddie's crimes.

The therapist told him it seemed like he was always preparing himself to get hurt, even with the people that he did trust. That was the last time he went to the therapist.

"Because this is all I'll ever be, Robin! Steve should get out while he can, find someone who isn't fuckin' useless. Someone who can get a real job or go to school or something."

"Is this because you can't be on your feet for more than a couple hours?"

Eddie was silent.

"Do you think that means you can't do things? Do you think Steve wants to watch you suffer more than you already have?"

Eddie shook his head once.

"Then here's what you're gonna do. You're gonna shower and clean up the house a little. You're gonna cook that chicken dish Steve loves so much because I went to the deli to get fresh ingredients for you. You're gonna open that bottle of wine I did not steal from Chrissy's restaurant. You're gonna talk to him."

"Okay."

"And then tomorrow, you're gonna come interview for a job at the museum. They're opening a new exhibit called Rock Through The Ages and they're looking for someone to do tours. It's four hours a day, five days a week. Pay is more than you made anywhere else plus tips. Interview is a formality, they already know you're qualified."

"Robin, I-"

"And you're gonna shut up. I love you, too, Eddie. And I love that dingus who loves you. So get your shit together so you can both be as happy as I know you can be."

Eddie hugged her for a long time, probably much longer than Robin would have ever allowed him to if it weren't for the circumstances.

He cleaned himself up, he cleaned up the apartment, he cooked dinner, and he opened the bottle of wine.

Neither of them were big fans of wine, but this was a $100 bottle. Eddie would drink every last drop.

When Steve came through the door at 4:39 on the dot, just like he did every week day, Eddie was holding a glass of wine out to him with a small smile.

"Eds? What's this?"

"Been a while since we've had a date night. Thought maybe we deserved it."

Steve stared back at him blankly, then let out a sob and walked over to him, burying his face in his neck.

"Sh, it's okay, sweetheart. I'm right here," Eddie wrapped him up in his arms, kissing his head. "I'm here."

"You promise?" Steve's broken voice nearly tore Eddie in two. How had he let it get this bad?

"I promise, Stevie. I'm sorry I've been somewhere else in my head."

Steve pulled away, sniffling and looking around the room as he realized that dinner was already set out on the bar and the dishes were done.

"You did all this for me?"

"For us."

"Is that chicken cacciatore?" Steve walked to the plate in his usual spot and smiled. "You made this?"

"I did. Hopefully it's edible. If not, I already have the menu for the Italian place down the road by the phone," Eddie pulled Steve's chair out for him and then sat down next to him.

They talked through dinner, mostly about Steve's day, and then about Eddie's. He brought up the interview and Steve beamed like the sun.

"That sounds perfect for you, Eds."

"I know. I think it'll be great."

The bottle of wine went down easy. Maybe a little too easy.

By the time they realized it was gone, they were giggling and leaning on each other, cheeks red and eyes glazed over with a buzz that was more than just the high alcohol content.

Steve leaned in to kiss him.

Eddie leaned in to kiss him back.

And for the first time in a long time, they stayed up all night, talking, kissing, touching in ways they'd nearly forgotten how to do.

When Eddie got the job, he sent Robin flowers. Nothing fancy, the pay wasn't that good. But he had to thank her for getting his head out of his ass and his ass in shape.

Steve didn't ask when he saw the bill for it, just smiled and kissed the top of Eddie's head while he got ready for his first day of work.

"I love you. Good luck today," Steve said as he fixed his glasses before grabbing his keys to head to his job at the youth center downtown.

"Love you too. Pizza tonight?"

"Sounds good, love. Wine?"

Eddie nodded towards the bottle of $3 wine from the liquor store.

Steve laughed. "I'll grab some Tylenol on my way home."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddiesongfics #angst with a happy ending #established relationship

[ellionwrites]

If Geto and Gojo were so close, why didn't Geto try to convince Gojo to defect with him?

Because Geto knew that Gojo’s support would guarantee his success, but that success would come at the cost of hurting Gojo.

I believe that Geto cared more about protecting Gojo than he cared about building a better world.

..

Let me explain…

First, let’s talk about why it would’ve made sense for Geto to ask Gojo to join him:

(1) Gojo would’ve been Geto’s most important / most powerful ally

By the time of Geto’s defection, Gojo is already the strongest sorcerer in existence. He and Geto are two of only three special grade sorcerers. Having them both on the same side is essentially an automatic win.

(2) Gojo should’ve been (relatively) easy to persuade

Gojo had already told Geto that he didn't like having to save the weak and didn't care about the moral justifications for it…

…Geto has also seen that Gojo doesn’t always value / protect human life. He was ready to massacre the Time Vessel Association without reason, but ultimately he didn't, because he deferred to Geto's judgement…

…and, most importantly, they are best friends on a DEEP, unparalleled level. Geto is Gojo’s “one and only” best friend.

If Geto was truly dedicated to changing the world order, Gojo should’ve been the first and most important person that he tried to recruit to his insurgency / cult / mission.

BUT

Not only does Geto make zero effort to reach out to / recruit Gojo, he actively avoids him and pushes him away...

- - - - - Keep reading cut - - - - -

After he kills the 112 non-sorcerers, Geto runs into Shoko in Shinjuku. He happily approaches her and willingly answers her questions.

Look at his smiling face in their interactions:

But, when Shoko calls Gojo, Geto leaves before Gojo shows up. Gojo tracks him down anyway and demands an explanation. Geto still doesn’t want to talk about it (“You already heard it.”)

It's strange, right? Geto loves talking about his vision of a better world with everyone else.

Then, there is this confusing progression of dialog:

Geto is hurt/annoyed that Gojo doesn’t believe in him, so he points out that Gojo’s argument against his plan is invalid. The plan is possible (“You could do it”), therefore (according to Gojo’s own logic) it’s not “pointless.”

In a way, Geto is admitting that he knows it would make the most sense for Gojo to join him.

But before Gojo can respond, Geto pivots to saying something extremely hurtful. He's questioning who Gojo is / would be if he wasn't the strongest. Is there really anything more to him? (See more detail in my post here).

Then, in the very next panel Geto turns and starts walking away.

In summary: (1) Geto avoids Gojo, (2) Geto only argues in favor of his plan when Gojo forces/baits him, (3) Upon invalidating Gojo’s opposition to his plan, Geto immediately puts emotional distance between them, (4) Geto then puts physical distance between them.

Why is Geto trying so hard to make sure that Gojo won’t follow him?

Is he just being prideful about doing this on his own? Is he so angry at Gojo's arrogance that he'd jeopardize the success of his life's mission over it?

These arguments aren't in line with Geto's characterization / known motivations (see the end of this post, if you're interested in more on that.)

Geto's main motivation is (a twisted form of) compassion. He wants to end the suffering of sorcerers.

He is a thoughtful, contemplative person, and would've thought about the ramifications of recruiting Gojo.

What are the ramifications?

If Gojo joins the cause, Geto’s plan would succeed, but Gojo would suffer for it.

Like anyone who joins Geto's cult, Gojo would become a pariah / fugitive from Jujutsu society. He’d kill people. He’d kill other sorcerers.

But because Gojo has the singular level of strength/ability to kill non-sorcerers en masse, he would commit the vast majority (or all) of the murder / destruction. The legal, social, and mental impacts would be most severe on Gojo.

(Also, at this point, I think Geto may still question whether he’s made the right choice. It’s difficult to go from a hardline stance on protecting non-sorcerers to wanting to gen0c1de them, within the span of a year, without any lingering ethical qualms. So he may be worried about moral costs to Gojo as well.)

Let’s remember that Geto (canonically) deeply loves Gojo. Gojo is his one and only best friend. Geto worries about Gojo when he overworks himself protecting Riko. Geto is shocked when Toji kills Riko in front of him, but he only flies into a rage when he thinks Toji has killed Gojo. (Again, see my post here for more on how much Geto loves Gojo).

So, it makes sense that Geto is ready to make sacrifices to create a better world, but it’s a cost he’s willing to put on his own head. Not Gojo's.

Ultimately, Geto cares more about Gojo than he cares about achieving the mission he has dedicated his life to.

The last thing Geto says to him is this:

What he's really asking Gojo is: "Have you stopped loving me, now that I've committed myself to this dark path? Would you kill me to save them?"

If Gojo hates Geto enough that he’d kill him, then Geto never had a chance of recruiting Gojo in the first place.

Of course, Gojo can’t make himself hurt Geto. He still loves Geto too much.

Geto protected Gojo by pushing him away.

___

Addendum:

I'll also argue against two other possible explanations for Geto's behavior.

(1) Geto is jealous / prideful /wants to build his own legacy without Gojo stealing the spotlight

Geto has clear motivations for his goals and they’re not egotistical. He wants to end the suffering of sorcerers caused by non-sorcerers’ existence (e.g., Riko’s death, Mimiko & Nanako’s abuse).

Geto’s pride isn’t hurt when Gojo becomes the strongest. The only thing that bothers Geto is that they’re getting sent on separate missions.

After Gojo becomes stronger that him, Geto still has overt affection for Gojo (e.g., he asks Haibara to bring back sweets from his mission so he can share with Gojo).

Although Geto does believe in his superiority over non-sorcerers, he doesn't feel superior over other sorcerers and doesn't struggle with his 'inferiority' to Gojo.

Does Gojo’s lack of faith in Geto’s ability (calling his goal “impossible”), spur Geto to want to prove himself? Yes, probably. But Geto had already been avoiding Gojo before he said that. And I don’t believe that wanting to prove himself to Gojo would overshadow his stronger motivation to build a better world for sorcerers.

(2) He thinks Gojo actually is too moral to join him

After Geto kills the 112 non-sorcerers, Gojo is shocked and upset by what’s happened, but not once does he insult Geto or imply that Geto has done something unforgivable. In fact, he’s practically begging Geto to explain himself because he wants to be able to justify his actions. And, again, Gojo’s argument against Geto’s plan is NOT that “it’s wrong,” it’s that “it’s impossible.”

#This is what I live my life by 100% #I will not be convinced of any other truth #satosugu #jjk #jjk analysis #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x geto #gojo satoru #geto suguru #stsg #gego #goge #satosugu analysis #jjk manga #jjk canon #satosugu canon #jjk meta #satosugu meta #sugusato #my jjk thoughts

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

No man's land

♡ Pairings: Eddie munson x reader

♡ Summary: a little something for the people who suffer from insomnia or just have a hard time sleeping.

♡ Warnings: fluff, none. Just some language but nothing terrible. Eddie calls the reader baby. No use of y/n.

♡ Word count: 1.1k

♡ A/n: This has been sitting in my drafts for way too long. While this is just a fluff piece, I would still prefer if minors didn't interact with my work. Thank you. Please reblog, like, and comment to show support.

3:00 am.

It was late very late and another sleepless night for you. You tossed and turned for hours trying to find the right position to rest, but it was no use. You just couldn't sleep. There really isn't even a reason behind it.

You weren't stressed at the moment. You and Eddie are both in a good place. You wish you could put a reason as to why this happens, but there is none. Not one thing. This isn't something new for you, though. You just wanted some type of excuse this time.

You carefully got out of bed trying not to disturb your sleeping boyfriend next to you. You make your way to the living to watch some TV. Perhaps you'll fall asleep out here, but you know that's highly unlikely. You tip toe into the kitchen, slowly opening up the cabinet above the stove to make some tea.

Wrapping yourself up in a warm blanket with Eddie's Garfield mug in both hands, you flick through the channels until you land on your favorite show. You kept the lights off, not wanting to disturb him in any kind of way since he has to be up in soon for work. Believe it or not, Eddie was a light sleeper, and the slightest noise or light could wake him.

"Why'd ya leave me?" His rasped with a pout on his face.

Foot steps trudging down the hall tell you that you were not as quiet as you thought. You turn to look over blanket draped over your head. There, he was standing in the hallway rubbing his tired eyes. His hair sticking up every which way. The white boxers with red lips, you got him for Valentines Day as a joke, hang low on his waist. He's missing one sock on his foot. You snort when you see him. He looks lost like he doesn't know how he got there.

You always thought his sleepy voice was so cute. He hated it.

"Couldn't sleep again." You sheepishly told him, taking another sip of tea.

He moves to plop down beside you, kicking his feet up on the coffee table folding his arms over his chest. His eyes bloodshot from just waking up. The brightness from the TV screen making his eyes water.

"Whatcha watching?" He yawned.

You snuggle up close beside him, resting your head on his shoulder. "Grey's Anatomy."

Nodding his head, looking semi interested. He wraps his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him.

"Eddie, you have to work in the morning." You whispered, looking up at him.

"It's okay if you can't sleep. I can't sleep." He squeezed you tight, kissing your forehead.

About an hour has passed since you and Eddie have been awake.

"What do you mean they found her lingerie pictures and showed them to everyone?" He argued, getting frustrated at the show.

"Dr. Model wow!, what a great insult...prick." He murmured, shaking his head.

"Yeah, she only did that to pay for school." You informed him getting a kick out of how upset he seems to be for lzzie.

Whatever sleep filled mind he had was gone now. He's wide awake, staring at the bright TV screen. His eyes are still bloodshot and puffy, but he's not tired. Not anymore. Too worked up and annoyed at what he's witnessing

His mouth drops in shock. "And this dickhead just walks around showing them to everyone?"

"Yep, pretty much." You take another sip of your tea, which is now too cold.

"Lemme get a taste." He motioned at the Garfield mug, eyes glued to the screen. He takes a big gulp, making a disgusted face at the now ice-cold chamomile tea.

He bought that tea specifically for you when he heard it helps with sleep. He always did little things like that for you. He'd buy you an entire life supply of chamomile tea if it meant you could finally rest.

He leaned forward elbows resting on his knees. He was still getting riled up at the plot that he didn't notice the alarm clock going off.

"It's time for work." You mentioned sadly.

"Oh, I'm calling out. I can't leave until I know what happens next." He says matter factly. He's too engrossed in the show now to stop watching. "And I can't leave you either."

The sunrise peaking in through your blinds, giving your living room a warm glow. "Wanna get breakfast?"

"Sure." You smiled sweetly at him.

"Then we can finish up this season and try to get some sleep, yeah?" He goes to stand, stretching his long limbs out.

"I hope so, but if I can't sleep, that doesn't mean you have to stay up too." You really don't want him to think just because you struggled with this that he has to as well. You've dealt with insomnia almost your whole life. You can handle losing just a day's worth of sleep. You hope it's just a day's worth.

"I don't think so. If my baby can't sleep, then I'm not sleeping."

"But." You tried arguing.

"No buts." He argued back, bending down to give you a quick kiss on the lips.

You shyly smile at him, wondering how you even found someone so caring. Sometimes, you truly believe you don't deserve him. You know that's not true, and he definitely knows that's not true. He's just so kind and thoughtful. You really didn't think there were people out there in the world like him. Eddie would constantly do things for you without even considering something in return. You're still not used to that but you're trying.

"Well, then we better get moving. We don't wanna miss anything." You go to stand next to him, stretching out your arms as well.

"I'm not putting clothes on. We can just go through the driver thru." He said, grabbing his keys. No shoes or anything. Just one bare foot padding along the carpet.

"Well, at least wrap yourself in this blanket, jeez." You roll your eyes playfully as you both head for the front door. You tossed him the blanket that was used as your own personal, safe haven. "You trying to get arrested?"

"Wouldn't be my first time." He joked, throwing the blanket around himself and heading out the door.

Eddie kept his promise to you that day. He did eventually doze off on the couch with you. It's not entirely his fault, though he made the mistake of laying his head in your lap after breakfast. Your hands scratch his back, and playing with his hair always made him relax. If there was ever a moment you wanted him to sleep, that was all you had to do, really. He'd instantly melt in your hands.

You stayed up, finishing off the rest of Greys Anatomy with Eddie softly snoring. You didn't sleep, and you weren't counting on it. Maybe you will tonight? Doesn't matter it comes in patterns for you. You know what to expect when this happens.

You're just happy you won't have to deal with it alone anymore. Whether you liked it or not. Eddie was going to be by your side helping you through it. No matter how much you argued that he shouldn't. He was stubborn, and once his mind was made up, that was it.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x you

[tacticaldiary]

You are so talented?? Hells bells!!! could I please request Simon Riley x Wife!Reader where Simon is “pronounced dead” for a mission and it has to seem real enough so like price shows up to your shared home and hands over dog tags? And then like months later he shows up at the house and they reunir?! Like all just very very sad and very comfort/ hurt??

please and many thanks , sugarbean

Till Death Do Us Apart

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"Love..." He finally breathes out, and she realises that she hasn't said a word in a full minute.

The single word tears a gasp out of her throat, makes her take a small step back. The rasp of his voice, the scent of him as she breathes in...

It's him.

Death itself couldn't stop him from crawling home to her.

Masterlist

Song: I, Carrion (Hozier)

It's funny how fragile the illusion of safety and content is.

Her life had seemed so unshakable, so sure and sturdy and promised. She'd fought for what she had with her husband, made a home with him, gone through years and bumps and ups and downs all because the chance of having him was better than giving up without ever having tried.

Truth be told, she'd never really liked the silence of their home when she was the only one living in it. Simon had asked her a couple times if she got lonely, whether it was too much. He'd asked her about it pretty much every time he packed up and left for a mission halfway across the world. Brows furrowed and voice lilted in concern late at night with his arms around her.

He's met with her smile and a reassurance that the silence was worth his arrival back home. Distance makes the heart go fonder, doesn't it?

And so Simon took it in stride, let the knowledge settle the creep of doubt in his heart beacuse this? Them?

It was more than he'd ever hoped for himself.

Never did he think he'd be the reason someone smiled at him like she did, not once did he consider himself one to want something so cliche as a home until she came around with her warmth and promises of unshakable devotion.

And God had he tried to shake her off. His indifference had only fuelled her determination to worm her way under the cracks of his armour. Once she'd reached inside and pulled out a part of himself he'd long thought was killed by 'Ghost', Simon had found himself letting go of his carefully crafted distance and crumbling under her hands. The best decision of his life.

It's why his breathing is ever so ragged as he watches Price console his hysterical wife from afar, a pair of bloody dog tags with his name engraved in them clutched in her shaking hand.

Simon Riley. Deceased.

If he didn't feel like his world was off kilter he might have made a joke about how it's the second time.

Simon barely manages to hold himself back from running to her, to their home, their bed. It's his instinct to protect, and right now seeing Price let her clutch onto him in grief, everything in Simon is telling him to go, to run and hold her, console her, assure her that he hasn't broken his promise of coming home to her.

It had been a vow whispered against her lips in the dead of night after she'd aired out her fear under the light of the moon. The fear of losing him. Of opening the door to Price instead of him.

Just a few months, he repeats in his head over and over again, because it's the only thing keeping his legs from moving. Just a few months and he can fix this, go back to how everything was. He feels like a jackass, making her go through this, but there was no other option.

And fuck if he hadn't tried to argue.

Death itself couldn't stop him from crawling home to her.

But his line of work could.

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

Four months and it still feels like yesterday.

Nothing felt...right anymore.

She felt guilty sitting at the kitchen table where the use to eat together, the sheets on their...her. On her bed had long since lost the subtle scent of him. The living room where she'd curl up in his lap, snicker at him complaining about her choice of movie even when the bastard was just as enraptured and into it and she was.

Everything felt off.

She sets down the half eaten plate of food in the fridge and swallows down the lingering emotion.

When she'd opened the door that day, she very nearly slammed it back shut.

It seemed surreal. Her Simon, her untouchable husband gone in the line of fire. An accident, Price had phrased it as.

She missed him so much it fucking hurt.

Taking a deep breath, she grabs the shopping list she'd scrawled last week onto the fridge and tucks it in her pocket. The dog tags clink against each other around her neck, tucked into her sweater as she moves.

It had taken weeks for her to even look at them.

The doorbell cuts the search for her car keys short.

It's been a while since she's seen anybody, really. Her friends come over every now and then to keep her company, bring her homemade foods and gifts to cheer her up and it does work, but only for a few hours. She appreciates it, she really does, but the small periods of relief are only followed by the guilt of trying to forget and the pain of remembering all over again.

She'd tell them to come back later, she decides. Today was worse a day than usual and she's not in the mood-

Simon.

Simon...?

Her knuckles pale with the grip she has on the doorknob, it's all she can do to stare up at the figure that she only held in her dreams nowadays.

He's so familiar, with that hair she loved to rake her hands through, the slight downturn of his lips, the scars that scatter across his face that she loves to trace in the dark. He's looking down at her with brown eyes so tortured and serious, and...and a little anxious?

This is a cruel joke.

Here he is, bare faced in front of her just like how she'd dreamed about for all those weeks. How often had she cried at night, hoped that this was all a joke and she'd pull open the door to him one more time?

But he wasn't here, was he? No, there was no way. Her fingers touch cool metal and distantly she realises she's clutching onto the piece of himself he left behind, looped around her neck.

"Love..." He finally breathes out, and she realises that she hasn't said a word in a full minute.

The single word tears a gasp out of her throat, makes her take a small step back. The rasp of his voice, the scent of him as she breathes in...

It's him.

It's him.

Something akin to a sob tears its way out of her throat as she lunges towards him, tangles her hands in the fabric of his uniform. She only cries harder when his arms circle around her just as tightly, crushing her to his chest.

"You...you're home?" She manages to push out between stuttered intakes of breaths and sobs. "No, you're...you were-"

"I'm here." He hooks his chin over her head, sways her a little from side to side. If she hadn't been trembling she would have noticed the slight shake of his hands. "Said I'd always come back to you, didn't I?" He walks them backwards, shuts the door with his foots.

"You died!" She exclaims, choking on the words as she pulls back, not far but enough to meet his own red eyes. "You died, I thought you died-"

"Mission," He rushes out, "For a mission, yeah? Wouldn't ever leave you alone-"

"You did!" She suddenly pulls away from him barely out of his grasp and it takes everything in Simon's willpower not to pulls her back in.

Beneath the worry and the grief and the sadness, there's a hint of running anger.

"Four months, I thought you were...were dead." She wipes away her tears, still crying but angry. "And you show up now? Just like that? What the fuck, Simon I thought I was a widow!"

"I'm sorry." It's all he can say. It's pathetic and desperate and he feels frustrated and angry at everyone and himself but it's all he can say to her and he'll repeat it as many times as possible.

They stare at each other for a second, grieving and angry and crushed and hopeful...

And she falls back into him with the promise of an explanation later on, a tangle of limbs, muttered apologies and kisses.

Not because she forgives him. Not because she's willing to brush past it and move on, but because this crushing wave of relief feels better than the last four months of suffering. Because they'll always find their way back to each other.

Because she has her husband back, in one piece, and for the first time in months...

Something in her life clicks back into place.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(20/10/2023)

#ghost cod #cod mw ghost #ghost call of duty #ghost modern warfare #ghost mw2 #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #cod ghost #mw2 ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #call of duty modern warfare 2 #modern warfare x reader #angst #x reader #x y/n #fluff #simon riley #simon riley fluff #simon riley imagine #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #modern warfare #cod modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare ii

[appocalipse]

something good ⋆ bucky barnes

summary: bucky is about to go to war without confessing his feelings for you. you are about to watch him leave without confessing your feelings for him. that is, unless one of you gets up the courage to do something about it...

"I...need some fresh air. I'll be back."

Steve looks like he's going to argue with you as you push the chair out, but then you glance toward where Bucky disappeared in the crowd of people dancing, and Steve's face softens before he gives you a nod.

"We'll be right here," he says, pointing to your barely-touched drink. "Be careful."

The alley behind the bar is damp and quiet, cool from the rain earlier in the day but blissfully empty. You lean against the bricks and tip your head back, closing your eyes.

Steve was wrong — you should have stayed home.

He'd begged you to come out tonight; it wasn't just the two of them, he'd said, his eyes wide with hope. A few others had been invited, too, old friends who Bucky had wanted to see one last time before shipping out tomorrow.

And girls, of course. Girls with big smiles and bright eyes, who looked at Bucky as if they were hungry and he was a steak dinner.

To his credit, though, Bucky had asked you to dance first, and you'd said no. No, because it would have been impossible to act casually around him with your hands on his chest and his on your waist.

So, yes, you’d needed some fresh air after that. How could you not, when—

"Are you mad at me?"

You turn toward the voice that came from down the alley. Even though it's dark, you, of course, recognize him instantly, silhouetted against the weak light coming from inside the bar.

"Me? No, you—I'm not," you reply, your tongue feeling like it weighs three pounds. You attempt a smile. "What are you doing out here? You should be inside, enjoying your last night, no?"

Bucky shrugs and walks closer, but only far enough so you can see each other without straining.

"I was looking for you," he says, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Steve said you'd come out here."

"I'll go back inside soon, I promise. Don't worry."

He doesn't move except to kick a loose pebble away from his toe. "Why didn't you want to dance with me?"

Your stomach plummets at the question. He sounds almost hurt, and you wish you could explain yourself to him in a way that doesn't include blurting out your stupid feelings in the process.

"Uh...I don't know, I just...well, no reason," you stumble, wishing desperately that you weren't such an idiot. "I thought I'd keep Steve company while you...you know."

"Danced with the rest of them?"

You nod silently.

Bucky makes a scoffing sound before running a hand through his hair. "They're all the same."

"Okay..."

"It's not, uh, it's not what you think," he continues, taking a step forward, then back again as if he's unsure of how close to stand. "The girls — they're nice and pretty, sure, but...they're just not... I don't think they're my type, I guess."

"Uh-huh," you murmur, turning your gaze downward toward your shoes, suddenly finding it easier to look anywhere but at him. "Yeah, well, we better get back before—"

"Is there somebody else?"

The air in your lungs vanishes at his abrupt question, and you look up as your heart starts beating out of rhythm.

"Excuse me?" you whisper, surprised that you've even found your voice. "Somebody else?"

"Somebody that you...that you're seeing," Bucky says slowly, his words strained, as if every one causes him pain.

You stare at him for a second, hoping this is a joke, that maybe Steve put him up to asking these ridiculous questions — or maybe he's been drinking too much — because, surely, Bucky couldn't possibly be trying to ask you what you think he's trying to ask you.

"Bucky, let's just go back inside—"

"It's Steve, isn't it?" he cuts you off with the most absurd statement yet. His expression softens. "It's okay, really. If you are, I mean. He's a really good guy."

"Steve?!" You actually laugh at the absurdity of it all, shaking your head until the shock fades away into incredulity. "Jesus Christ, no! I mean, Steve is...he's like a brother to me, what...what the hell are we even talking about?"

"But...there's someone?" he asks again, sounding less upset than he had a few moments ago.

"No, not—no," you say, slouching against the wall and shrugging halfheartedly. "There's no one. Honestly, there hasn't been since..."

"Since when?"

Since I met you.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and praying that a sinkhole will open up and swallow you whole. This has gone on long enough. "I don't know. It's...been a little while. I don't know what you want me to say, really."

"I just wondered."

"Okay, fine."

You start to walk back to the door leading inside, but Bucky moves so quickly that you run smack into his chest.

"Wait, just—"

He grabs your hand and holds it gently, thumb softly brushing along your knuckles.

Your breath hitches at the unexpected contact. You glance down at where he's holding onto you, then back up again, confused, curious, wondering if this is real and not some strange dream you'll wake up from any moment now.

You exhale with a shaky laugh when he lifts his other hand to your cheek and rubs his thumb across it, stopping at the corner of your mouth.

Slowly, so slowly, he leans in.

"Bucky," you breathe, his name soft on your tongue.

His forehead touches yours, and you reach up to rest a palm against his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your fingertips.

"Do you not want me to...?"

He's never been this close to you, but everything about the moment feels familiar — the heat radiating from his body, the light scratch of his stubble on your cheek, the smell of him surrounding you.

You lift your chin slightly. "I do, but..."

"Just..." You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips; he's so close now that they brush against yours as he speaks. "I wish I'd...said something before it came to this."

"Before what came to this?"

"That I'd have...asked you. Proper, like. Dinner, movie. You know, the way it shoulda been. Before I...before I leave."

You stiffen at the word leave, pulling back so that you can look him in the eye.

"Bucky..."

"I wish I would've asked you to dinner. Would've loved to take you to dinner," he says, his eyes searching yours. "Wouldn't that have been nice, doll?"

A small smile lifts the corner of your mouth. "It would've."

"It could've been nice, you and me."

"I think it could have been."

"Yeah?" he chuckles quietly, lifting your hand and bringing it to his lips. He presses a kiss to the back of your fingers, then your palm. "I think it can still be. You see, I'm quite selfish. I'd like to go to war with something good to think of. Something — or someone — to come home to. That'd be worth coming home to."

"Like...Steve?"

It's a joke, of course, and Bucky, to his credit, does laugh, too. Then, he slips a finger under your chin and tips your face up toward his. You hold your breath as he dips his head to place a gentle, barely-there kiss on the corner of your mouth. "Not like Steve. No."

The music from inside the bar becomes louder, a woman's voice singing softly, sweetly. Stars fading, but I linger on, dear...

"I..." You clear your throat nervously, fiddling with the collar of his jacket. "You better come back to me in one piece."

"You gonna be waiting for me?"

You smirk. "I mean, I already waited this long, so I might as well—"

The rest of your words disappear into his kiss. You gasp at the sudden, almost desperate press of Bucky's lips on yours, but then he brings his hands to the sides of your face and kisses you more gently, more slowly, more purposefully, as if he has a lot to say to you in this moment but words fail him and the only thing left to do is this — to kiss you, over and over, again and again, to say, with his lips, with his hands, with every inch of himself...that he'll come back to you.

You whimper as Bucky's teeth catch your lower lip and tug before letting go. He pulls back far enough to look at you, to see your swollen lips parted. "So...that means yes, right?"

"Yes," you murmur. You slide your hands over his shoulders and into his hair, pulling his mouth back down to yours. "It means yes."

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x fem!reader #winter soldier x you #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes scenario #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes headcanon #mcu fanfic #mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu imagine #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes hcs #bucky barnes hc #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes dialogue #bucky barnes fluff

[airbendertendou]

I'M IN RUINS! ♡ mitsuya takashi

synopsis : maybe he really is just that nice to everyone.

song inspo ; going dumb by stray kids, alesso, corsak

cw : baji!reader ; reader has their period, but no pronouns ; baji is referred to as your brother, but looks aren't stated ; more of a college-ish au ; kazutora favortism briefly got the best of me

if you have a blank blog [no bio, no user, no header or profile pic, nothing reblogged, etc] do not interact with my content. you will be blocked.

It's so unfair, you think. Being so close to him, yet not allowing to linger — it's disheartening. You ache ; suffer and beg and cry, thinking of your brother's friend.

Baji sighs as you frown at him. "Do you really need to go?"

"Why am I not allowed to?" You reply. You'd put on your cutest outfit and your favorite shoes. After hearing Mitsuya was tagging along to this little get together, how could you not? "I'm hungry and you're going to eat."

"You never want to go," your brother argues. You cross your arms and tilt your head, raising your eyebrows to look stern. It's the way your mom looks at him ; the way she gets him to listen. Keisuke clicks his tongue, "whatever. Come on, then."

——♡——

By the time Chifuyu pulls up to the meeting area, your stomach is aching. You shuffle where you stand, sending a meek smile to Draken when he looks your way. Kazutora is distracting your brother, giggling together as you wait for the last guest to arrive.

A rumble hits the wind, covering the chattering of the other guys and numerous shoppers. Lilac hair shines in the light and you hold your breath — he's here.

"Boys," Mitsuya grins as he parks his bike. His eyes slide to you, smile growing gentle, less teasing. “Hey, trouble. Make a last minute decision to come?"

You nod silently, holding your stomach and trying to hide your grimace. Mitsuya tilts his head curiously, but gets taken into a conversation with Draken. You tug on the end of Baji's hair, "I'm going to the bathroom really quick."

A chest is pressed to your back quicker than you can think. A hand — gentle and firm simultaneously — leads you to the left. Mitsuya clears his throat as you scowl at him. "I'll show you where the bathroom is."

You want to cry. You're absolutely mortified at what you discover. Your pee is red — the reason behind your stomach pain is clear. Your favorite bottoms are stained and you're unable to wear them now. Having your period is natural, nothing to be ashamed about.

But, Mitsuya noticed. He shielded your backside so that no one else would see the splash of blood.

Leaning against the stall's wall, you sniffle as tears drip down your nose. You'd texted Draken about your current problem — Keisuke had broken his phone just yesterday. The blond was your only hope at this point ; you hoped he'd read your text soon.

"[Name]," a knock to the bathroom door startles you. "Here. I'll wait for you, okay?"

Humiliation — Mitsuya had taken it upon himself to get you supplies. Taking in a stuttered breath, you fought to make your sobs unknown. You dab your face with toilet paper lightly before opening the door. Quickly, you snatch the bag you see and ignore the one standing in the doorway.

He'd gotten you a new outfit, too. The same color as your previous one, so that no one else would notice what happened. Your tears fell again as you situated yourself.

Once out of the bathroom, you sniff and avoid Mitsuya's gaze. Draken is leaning against the wall across from you, looking over you quickly as you walked to him. You brush your bottoms lightly, head to the floor as you stand in silence.

"No big deal," Draken reassures you. He pats the top of your head with a grin, "let me know if you want to go home, okay?"

Your nod is stopped by an arm wrapping aound your shoulders. Mitsuya squeezes you close to him, trapping you in the smell of his cologne. "S'all good, trouble. Tell us if you feel unwell."

The light catches through a window, shining on Mitsuya like a hidden halo. His eyes light up, his eyelashes curving against his cheek as he smiles. Mitsuya's nose scrunches as laughs at something Draken says. Peeking at you with his peripheral vision, he tilts his head.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re so nice to me.” It's said before you can even think. Because he is nice to you — kind, welcoming and warm. Mitsuya squeezes you a bit closer before letting go of you completely. Chifuyu waves your way excitedly. Your small, "thank you," is covered by the noise of the restaraunt.

——♡——

Mitsuya had left the table not long ago. Keisuke shoves your shoulder, causing you to bump into Kazutora. The dual-haired boy gasps dramatically before shoving into your right shoulder, bumping you back into your brother.

Your giggles are drowned out by the sight of Draken shaking his head. Chifuyu speaks through his own laughter, "where's Mitsuya?"

"Flirting," Draken says with a roll of his eyes. Your smile fades, falling from your face slowly at the words. Draken lets out a loud sigh, "can't take him anywhere."

Baji grumbles into your ear, "I'll say."

Kazutora snorts, covering his mischivious grin with his hand. He lays his head on your shoulder, "oh, whatever shall we do with such a pretty boy?"

Your grin inflates again at Kazutora's casual teasing. You ruffle his hair, scrunching your nose as he scowls playfully at you. "You're a pretty boy, too, you know."

Kazutora's eyes widen, his cheeks pinkening at your words as he sits up straight. Your eyes slide across the table. "So is Chifuyu, honestly." You look to your brother and grimace, "don't know what happened to you."

Baji clicks his tongue before shoving you again. Kazutora catches you in a backwards hug, his forearm settling across your collarbones. "Be nice to [name], Baji!"

"Jus' cause you were called pretty..." your brother grumbles to himself.

The chair across from you is pulled out, a loud screech hitting the area you're in. Mitsuya plops down with a stone-faced expression, his eyes focused solely on you. "Enjoying ourselves, are we?"

"Like you can talk," Draken teases. The tall blond flutters his eyelashes and clasps his hands together. "Oh, it's you! From class! The fashion designer!"

"Can't talk to my classmates now?"

Chifuyu snickers, kicking your foot under the table as he does. You shake your head, sinking your chin below Kazutora's arm to hide your grin. Mitsuya eyes your position idly before tilting his head, "you both look comfy."

Kazutora pulls you closer, "[Name] thinks I'm pretty."

"I said Chifuyu was, too!"

The dual-haired boy hums into your ear. "But, you thought of me first."

"As fun as this is," Draken looks up from his phone. He sighs before pocketing the device. "Mikey is calling for us. Want me to take you home, [name]?"

"I'll do it," Mitsuya interrupts. He lets out a sigh, gaze drifting from you and laying on the table. "I'm going to check on my sisters, anyways."

You're waving to your friends as Mitsuya leans against his bike. You can feel him watching you, but you ignore his eyes to grin gleefully at Kazutora.

"He your recent crush?"

"What?" You blink, turning to face the lilac-haired boy. Mitsuya shrugs, making no move to leave as he gazes at you. "Kazu? He's not my crush, why?"

"But, you do have one," he steps closer to you. "A crush."

Gulping, you move away from him and to the back of the bike. "Maybe."

Mitsuya hums, "your brother know?"

"Why would I tell Keisuke about a crush?" You lean beside him now, frowning to the ground. Kicking at the sidewalk with your foot, you scrunch your nose. "He's horrible at keeping secrets."

He nods and you're hyperaware of the way his arm brushes against yours. It's like he's doing it on purpose — moving closer to you. "I'm not. You can tell me who it is."

"No thanks!"

"Why not?"

You grow silent, even as Mitsuya gets closer. His arm is behind your back at this point, his hand sitting on the seat of his bike. "You don't need to know."

"I want to."

"Do you have a crush on anyone?" As he doesn't answer, you finally look his way. Soft, dreamy eyes are looking at you. His gaze feels heavy ; heated as he stares your way. "Mitsuya?"

He blinks and looks away, "maybe."

"Would you tell me who it is?"

"Well, that's not fair," he leans closer, his lips brush against your ear, "is it, [name]?"

You freeze, eyes widening as Mitsuya tilts his head at you curiously. Staring at the ground, you think about it for a second. You think maybe I should tell him ; maybe it's time. Then your mind flashes back to before — to when Draken said he was flirting.

"Oh, is it someone from your class? The one Ken was talking about?"

Mitsuya doesn't answer — that means yes, you think. Downhearted, you frown and scoot away from him, leaving room to breathe. He doesn't allow that, though, scooting until your arms are pressed together once again.

"It's a friend," Mitsuya speaks up. He leans more to the left, his chin almost resting on your right shoulder. "A close friend."

You gasp dramatically, hoping to interrupt the intense atmosphere. "It's Chifuyu, isn't it? Knew it — he's irresistible."

Mitsuya snorts, rolling his eyes. You smile at the sound, oblivious to the way he gazes at you. He bites his lip, hesitant, but nudges the tip of his shoe against yours anyways. You meet his gaze — his eyes flicker from yours briefly before he smiles tenderly. "I'll tell you who it is. Eventually."

You trust he'll keep his word.

——♡—— idk abt a part two for this one... tbh i like how it ends. if youd like to b tagged / untagged in any tokyo revengers content, let me know! ♡

🍓FOREVER TAGS : @straysugzhpe ♥︎ @star2fishmeg ♥︎

🍓 TOKYOREV TAGLIST : @thatpoindexterpixy

airbendertendou © do not copy, plagiarize, repost, or translate my content on any platform. if you see my content under any other name than my own, let me know. i only have this tumblr and an ao3 account under the same name.

#mitsuya x reader #mitsuya takashi x reader #mitsuya imagines #mitsuya x you #mitsuya x y/n #mitsuya fluff #mitsuya headcanons #tr mitsuya #tokyo revengers mitsuya #mitsuya takashi #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev hcs #tokyo rev headcanons #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev fluff #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers fluff

[happypolicecherry]

Alhaitham

Alhaitham is the type to think his s/o is overreacting while arguing with them. He's convinced that he's right and would just be humouring you by wasting his precious time on this useless banter.

He had already won before you could lay your case, so why do you keep insisting that he's wrong? Like, why are you overreacting by fussing over a small matter when Alhaitham had already voiced out his reasons? There's no way you're even slightly right.

Alhaitham already connected the points and drew them solved right to the finest detail. He'd just rest his back leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Stupid turquoise eyes staring directly at you, watching you as you lose your shit in front of him

One crucial point that Alhaitham always forget is, people, grow frustrated when having to explain their point repeatedly to a person who's often said; not up for a debate because they're right. Alhaitham is exactly that kind of person.

So you can only imagine the slight shift of surprise in his expression when he hear your voice crack. Although it was brief because you stopped talking as soon as it happened, it didn't go amiss with Alhaitham. He only began to feel something tug his heart when you looked away from his direction with your head tilted downward, and your fingers lightly touching your eyes.

For once, Alhaitham is taken aback, and his stance begins to waver. Tossing his pride aside, he fast-paced to where you are standing. Although not panic strikened, he dislike being the cause of your tears.

Diluc Ragnvindr

As for Diluc, he'd listen to what you have to say until it involves things he disagrees with such as mending with Kaeya, taking a week off from doing his darknight hero gigs and also letting you help him.

Don’t get him wrong, you are important to him. But some things that you want to happen just does not align or sit well with him, he just genuinely will never be able to find himself compromising for it, so he would rather be straight with you.

"I don't think that's for you to decide." He would start being sharp tongued when you keep pressing on matters he dislikes speaking of. A bad habit of his but he'll never admit it. He would try his best not to dismiss you completely and wants to ensure you, what you are feeling is important to him.

Tragically for Diluc, his main problem is the fact that he forgets he has to be vocal about it. And not just stood there while staring into your soul with his eyebrows furrowed, the idea of you not understanding his thoughts completely leaving his mind.

So, when your voice starts wavering from confident to doubtful, Diluc realised something was wrong. His body would automatically release all the tension he was holding in, his expression softened slightly as he discards his own ego and reaches out for your wrist. His warm hand fills you with comfort almost immediately as he gently pulls you closer to him.

He does not want to see you upset nor does he wants to lie to you, so he chooses to put this argument to rest because it will just disturb you further if you keep trying to change things that his mind is set on. We all know how stubborn Diluc can be once his goal is set. Fortunately, even fire can’t stay bright and roaring forever if you keep trying to extinguish it.

#alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc comfort #diluc x reader

[undercoverpena]

pickles, peppers and photos

javier peña x f!reader

summary: cleaning out the cupboards for the new year reveals more than just a cluttered kitchen.

wordcount: 2k warnings: brief and tiny mention of you struggling with new year, but pure fluff. reader has a hatred for pickles (sorry pickle lovers), no descriptions are used (banner shadows not representative. no use of y/n but javi calls you esposa and mi pimienta (hehehe). flirting. established relationship/married!javi.

an: this is my contribution to the @pickled-pena resolutions challenge! pls check out the pinned post on the pickled-pena page for more details.

When he enters the kitchen it’s a mess.

A grand explosion of things spread out over all the available surfaces.

He should have known when his outstretched hand found only cold sheets, when his eyes glanced at the clock and realised it was barely past sunrise.

Javi had considered playing ignorant, remaining in bed until you fetched him, but the sound of shattered glass, a shriek and an abundance of curses forced his legs from under the bedding.

By the time he'd dressed and come downstairs, whatever chaos had happened had been cleaned up, but the sight that still met him still made him pinch the bridge of his nose.

Every single item, from every single cupboard, had been laid out on the counter. Each item doing its best to hide the marble counter, with each kitchen cupboard flung open, revealing the carcass of the empty wooden cupboards.

Javi could argue whether it was necessary. Whether there was a point in emptying everything, to removing a handful of things before placing the rest back.

Could is the optimum word in the sentence, his hand wiping across his forehead, brushing past loose strands, as he tried to find something more optimistic to say than why?

Because he knows why.

And why is the only reason you’re on this side of the bedroom door: traditions.

Your way of getting rid of the clutter to usher in tidiness—provides a sense of renewal. Or, that's what you told others. You'd let him in on the real reason, your secret. How you struggle, how a new year feels big, overwhelming, difficult—but this helps. It keeps your mind occupied, focused, and feeling good.

Mostly, it keeps you busy—and is the only reason you’re dressed in clothes that don’t have food cartoons on them.

Not that he minds your array of comfy-and-cosy-only-for-home PJs.

Each set, some overly worn, some now mismatched, just gives him more reason to tease you that you are good enough to eat. To get close, whisper those words into your ear, either trace his fingers under your pants leg or splay his fingers up your spine, and remind you (with a roll of his hips) that he desires you whether you’re naked or dressed up, in his clothes or in colourful PJs.

You either really hate these PJs or you must really love me, Peña.

Most of the time, it's the latter. Depending on the pair, it could be both. His fingers slotting between yours as he moves you on the couch, watching your face shift into one of lust, that smile adorning your lips—the one he first fell in love with. Want me to take these off, baby, he'll reply, before he'd begin whispering (in plenty), how perfect you are, how pretty.

While you do right now look as pretty as ever, he's not sure he could say the moment was perfect.

"Do I ask?"

Peering your head out from around an open cupboard, the scent of fresh lemon and disinfectant brushes his nose. Your eyes slide over his face, before your lips twist into a smirk, head motioning to the freshly brewed pot, informing him you'd left him a cup out.

"Seems like all the mugs are out, mi pimienta."

"Funny," you snort, shaking your head.

Leaning on the counter he stares, admires. Eyes lingering on the way your jeans hug your ass, how you're hand cleaning the back of the cupboard has forced your top to rise. Swiping his thumb over his bottom lip, just continuing to watch, teeth nipping at the skin...

Because how did he get so lucky?

Him. Javier Peña. A man with a decorated and successful past, but has felt the most victorious when he's freed you out of your pickle PJs and laid you down in the sheets he helped pick out with you.

You don’t even like pickles, something he knows well.

A thing you remind him with a disgusted look and a high-pitched whisper whenever he orders burgers for the two of you.

Javi does know you like peppers, though.

His pimienta. A joke one night that stuck, a mishap, a bumble of words when you’d been trying to tell him those three words. Hands around his, candle flickering on the table:

‘Porque eres la sal de my pimienta.

If he hadn’t already known he loved you before then, he knew it at that moment. His heart burst, mirroring the way a smile slid over his face, and a laugh cracked through his chest. The sound filled the air as he watched you join him, heard it, the way your laughs merged together when you were happy.

While you never call him your salt, he has taken it upon himself to call you his pepper. Whispers it, speaks it, shouts it, grunts it when you’re nothing but fire and temptation.

"How long you been up?"

"A while," you reply, back still to him, eyes studying something in front of you. “You think you're going to eat these, Javi?”

Blinking, he stares at you as you spin to face him—spotting the two very different tins in your hand. Fruit, all canned.

He can’t even remember when you both had gotten them. Not ever recalling wanting them, never mind purchasing them with the groceries.

“Your Pops must have given them to us,” you add, adding a shrug, likely seeing the pinched expression, the evidence of his confusion. “I’ll take that as a no.”

You bend over, placing it in a box which is slowly filling.

But his eyes are only focused on your form. Over the slither of skin exposed at your back. Somehow, after all this time, the sight of you still makes him warm; the way you fit him, made things better, easier. Make him feel worthy of a slither of happiness and peace.

Plus, the way you look at him makes his mind less focused on the food he wishes to keep, and more on what he could devour if he made enough space for you on the counter.

Adjusting himself, and clearing his throat, he glances at the counter, fingers sliding over his lower jaw as he stares at the half-open boxes of pasta, the spices, and then—

Saying your name, you look at him, all wide-eyed, slowly rising to full height. “Why do we have a jar of pickles?”

Pulling a face, you shrug. “Must have been something we were given.”

“You hate pickles.”

“Very astute, Peña. Are you sure they’re not your pickles?

Tilting his head, he slides his jaw, offering it to you—the jar. Watching as your fingers twitch, not willing to take it. Your eyes don't move from him, not wanting to bow, to bend. Mostly likely, not even wishing to take the jar from him—even if the contents were safely behind thick glass and swimming in their own green-tinged juice.

“You need to get better at saying no, mi pimienta.”

“Oh, do I? Well, no las compré, which means we were gifted them. Which then means—actually, wait. You stand there and accuse me, but where were you at the time, ay?” Your hands move to your hips, and while your eyes have grown sharp, he can tell the teasing tone in your voice, the smirk which threatens to expose how hard you’re trying to be serious. “Where were you when the pickle jar found its way into our home? Because you know I wouldn't take it—”

He shouldn’t smile, but he does.

The smirk cracks through—sliding past your forced serious expression. Cutting through, blooming light and warmth across the rest of your face, making your eyes glint, twinkle, fucking sparkle.

Javi shouldn’t want to grab the camera from the table behind him. Shouldn’t want to snap a photo of you like this—capture it, wait to develop it and then keep it for himself to smile at another time.

In all honesty, he knows he probably doesn’t even need another photo of you. Should save the shot for the next time the two of you head out on a hike—but, fuck does he want this one. Your hands on your hips, head tilted, a smirk desperate to glide over your mouth.

He's not sure if you still love the gift you’d given him for his birthday, a sweet note attached to it: a way for you to keep capturing the now. Because he doubts you expected the now to be mainly you.

But, he liked having the moments. Them piling up in the coffee table drawer—one, in particular, inside his wallet. You all shy, hands posed where he’d said—I’d only do this for you, Javi.

He doesn’t confess that there are lots of things he has found he’d only do for you. Many of them never thought possible before you fell into his life. Just like how he’d never been one for memories.

Now, since you, he likes the reminder. Enjoys building the collection of how real this is—a full-on album of just pointless things. Soft mornings, tipsy evenings and you in the green apron his Pop bought you as you tried your hand at baking; then there were the many walks, you feeding animals and lots of snaps of the home the two of you are building.

He just wants to collect them all. Have them for himself. The evidence of this peaceful domesticity, this happiness—this present he never thought would be his future.

“I love you,” he interrupts, all soft, practically falling from him—tumbling out past his sly smile.

It cuts you off and stops you in your tracks. Him just watching your eyes widen a fraction more than before—lips remaining parted, hands sliding from your hips to hang easily at your sides.

A calmness settles over him, a dryness growing in his throat, as he moves around the counter, fingers nudging one of the cupboard doors to close. Unsure how he can articulate how happy you make him, more today than yesterday, and likely even more tomorrow than now.

Reaching out, he pulls you by the loop of your jeans, body meeting his—all willing, suddenly flush with his.

“How about…” he begins, the slope of his nose brushing against your cheek, feeling your fingers slide around his waist, dig a little more purposefully into his side, holding him, present, rooted. “We stop accepting food from people out of politeness—start just saying no?”

He peers at you. Watching as you think over it, assess it. “What, like a New Year’s resolution?”

Moving his hands, he cups your cheeks in his palms, guiding your eyes up to him. Just like every time before, since the first moment they landed on him—found him, buried deep into his soul, they pulled a smile. One pair of eyes undoing him, an array of shades swirling, individual paint strokes that made up the eyes he chose to have burned into him forever. The metal on his finger is evident of it, pressing it against your skin as you stare, waiting.

Swallowing, he smiles. “Yeah.”

Nodding, you trace your lower lip with your tongue—wetting it, likely knowing you’ve captured his attention. “I can do that.”

“You sure, baby?”

His hand slid down your cheek, and jaw, landing on your neck—the fabric of your clothes brushing against his wrist and forearm.

“You’re very nice, too nice sometimes.”

Laughing, it brushes over him. All soft, warm, It fluttering over him as you take him in, and as he studies you. “I can try to be less nice.”

Humming, he slides two fingers under your chin, positioning you there, the gap between the two of you closing, and closing—

“Could leave you wanting, for example,” you say. Adding an emphasis to the -ting, making it pop.

"That would be cruel."

Ghosting his lips over yours, the hand on your side clutches you a little tighter. “I know you want me on the counter, Javi. Saw it in your eyes when I was bent over in front of you. And, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want you—mi esposo.”

Groaning, he kisses you—a test, soft, quick. Eyes focused on the way yours briefly chased his.

“But,” you say, pulling your face back from his touch, “I have to say no, out of politeness—can’t fuck a man who would accuse me of willingly accepting pickles.”

“Pimienta…”

And you grin, wickedly.

And fuck does he want a photo of that too.

visit @pickled-pena to read the full masterlist of entries.

#pickledpena #pickledpeña #javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #pickledpeña writing challenge #javier peña x f!reader #javi peña x you #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pickled-peña #pickled-pena #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic

[theveesbf]

Hello! I hope you're doing well! Could you do an Adam x Reader in which the reader scolds him when hes beeing mean to the others?? Like, pulls him by the ear, like those moms arguing with their children or something lol (Sorry if this didn't make sense, english is not my first linguage 💀)

Adam X Reader who scolds him

⌗notes - OMG MILL HII I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG... Also it might be short 😟😔 juro que nao tinha esquecido 🙏

⌗content - Headcanons of Adam with a Reader who scolds him whenever he's mean to someone.

Adam is not really someone who you think would get in Heaven, but here he is. You two were really close, and even if he likes your company and being with you, he absolutely hates when you scold him. He's Adam, The First Man, Dickmaster, how dare you even try to scold him. Though he always ends up letting you do it, mostly because it would be way more embarrassing having you to do a full lecture of why he shouldn't do it in front of other people. Whenever Adam is being mean to someone for no reason, you pull him by the ear to another place. Adam only lets you do it because he really loves you. Otherwise he'd just be mean to you instead. Not that he isn't, but he's less of an asshole with you.

#adam x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin x reader #hazbin #hazbin hotel adam #adam #♡ star's writing

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2023: 4-Orange (SUB)

Damian sighed as his brothers argued. They all wanted him to socialize more and were trying to figure out the best way to do it.

"Just go up and talk to someone." Jason declared.

"It's not that simple or he would have done it already." Tim stated.

"Tell someone a pun." Dick smiled, "It always works."

"No it doesn't." Jason argued.

Unbeknownst to their younger brother, the all had different goals in mind for him. Yes, the wanted him to socialize more, but for different reasons. The eldest wanted him to simply make a friend. Jason thought it was better if he landed someone's number so that he could communicate through text. It seemed the simplest option. He wouldn't even have to talk in person. Tim was hoping he'd get a girlfriend and would stay out of the manor more.

Damian sighed as he walked up to a girl with sketchbook open at the outdoor café. She seemed really into what she was drawing. She hadn't even noticed him. He quickly cleared his throat. When she looked up, he saw the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen and he was surrounded by blue eyes at home.

"Orange you glad you met me?" he quickly spoke, holding up a cup of orange juice.

The girl remained silent and looked at him confused. Embarassed, Damian pulled out the earpiece his brothers had given him and slammed it on the table.

'Idiots!'

Marinette looked at the earpiece and smiled softly.

"I'm assuming someone was telling you to say that." She spoke.

Damian froze and looked at the girl across from him.

"Yes." he whispered.

"Oh, thank kwami." She sighed in relief.

Damian looked at her in shock.

"If you were serious, I would have told you to fuck off." the girl giggled.

Damian smirked, "Is it okay if I sit here?"

She nodded.

"My brothers are attempting to get me to socialize more." he explained.

"Well, you're off to a good start." she stated, "Puns aside."

"I take it you don't like puns." Damian commented.

She rolled her eyes, "I've heard enough to last me a lifetime."

"Ex boyfriend?" he questioned.

"Flirty guy who wants to date me and thinks flirting with puns is ideal." she commented.

"You've met my older brother?" Damian asked, shocked.

She giggled and questioned, "Is your older brother blonde?"

"No." Damian answered.

"Then there's two idiots like that." she replied.

Damian sighed and rubbed his forehead, making her laugh.

"My father does it as well." she continued.

"My apologies." he spoke.

"Marinette." the girl smiled.

"My apologies, Marinette." he declared, "I'm Damian."

His brothers watched in shock as he took a seat a the table.

"I told you a pun would work!" Dick exclaimed, "Puns always work!"

"Then, why did he take out the earpiece, Nitwit?" Jason asked.

They put their binoculars up and saw their youngest brother smile.

"He better make her a friend, at least!" Jason snarled.

"Why?" Tim questioned.

Jason snickered, "She made him smile."

'Don't fuck this up, Damian!'

The Wayne boys were eager to know what happened once Damian got home. Dick just smiled in anticipation of a thank you. The moment Damian walked through the door, they were by his side.

"So, how did it go?" Dick smiled.

"Did you make a friend?" Tim asked.

"Please, tell me you at least got a name!" Jason shouted.

"It was alright." Damian commented, "I can't say we are friends, but I did learn her name."

"Yes!" Jason cried, "Baby steps!"

Dick smiled joyfully, "See, I told you puns always work."

"They don't." Damian stated, "She was about to tell me to fuck off."

Dick stared at him in shock as the other two laughed.

"You thought you were so cool." Tim laughed.

"She also stated that some blonde continuously flirts with her with puns." Damian announced, "She tells him to leave her alone constantly. Her father uses wordplay as a form of laughter as well, but she only accepts his commentary."

Dick sighed as Damian walked away, leaving the other two to playfully comfort and tease him. Damian walked into his room and locked the door. He pulled out his phone and looked at the new number in his phone.

'Marinette. She's not a friend, yet, but it was nice to talk to her about art.'

TAGLIST: @maribat-calendar-events @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @missmadwoman @meira-3919  @princessdaisysolosyourfaves @blep-23 @fangirlingfanatic @darkhinauniverse @ravenr22 @im-a-satanic-ritual @ravennm84  @bianca-hooks123 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @starling218

#daminette december 2023 #daminette #marinette x damian #damian x marinette #damian wayne #batboys #wayne brothers #marinette dupain cheng #mlb x dc #orange #socialize #introvert #social issues #puns #cringe #friends #mochinek0

[inhuman-obey-me]

what do you think happens when a human gives a demon their soul in exchange for a pact?? would it give that demon all the wisdom? powers of the human??

From what we've seen in the game, honestly it basically mostly comes down to like...wanting human souls because demons find them shiny and attractive. And tasty? Also tasty.

However, it seems that's basically the extent of it, in terms of what demons get from human souls themselves.

(spoilers for Nightbringer below the cut)

When it comes to potentially receiving things like wisdom and power from humans, you have to remember that demons (and angels, for that matter) don't actually really...think quite so highly of humans?

Compared to demons and angels, humans are essentially considered weak beings to be guided or influenced by one side or the other -- a point that has been especially emphasized in Nightbringer.

Let's use Solomon as an example -- a human that has both power and wisdom. In fact, he has been outright known as the names "Solomon the Wise" and the "Witty Sorcerer" in OM canon, and he is the most powerful sorcerer ever to exist, in terms of power as a human. And even for all that, that's only barely enough to make Lucifer have to actually put a little bit of effort into warding him off. Lucifer has made clear more than once that, if he actually cared more, Solomon would absolutely be no match for him.

Now, to be fair, Solomon does have 72 pacts -- but none of those pacts have actually been confirmed in-game to be for his soul. We know that Asmo was just sort of drunkenly manipulated into making a pact, and Barbatos mentions in the "Tea Time With You" Devilgram that his pact with Solomon is actually about atonement. Which, by the way, is a super juicy tidbit for them to have dropped in a Devilgram and we desperately want to know more about that?? When he makes a pact with Asmo a second time in Nightbringer, that also involves no promises of his soul. And, more generally, Solomon argues in NB Lesson 17 that most pact-making usually involves having to manipulate or outsmart demons -- though, we also know from Thirteen that his soul is amazingly shiny, and that's why she also wants it.

Now, that's Solomon, who is a special case in terms of both power and wisdom. And rather than coveting those things from him, the demons of the cast treat him more like either a nuisance or a threat. Meanwhile, power is actually the reason Solomon makes the pacts -- because the pacts give him power, not the other way around.

Then consider that the average human is not Solomon, but more like MC was at the very beginning of OM -- no magic, no power, not known for any special wisdom or anything. They, and their souls, are not typically meaningfully powerful or wise to demons, who themselves are way more powerful and cleverer than anything they could get from a human. So, as with the screenshot from Lucifer earlier, it would seem it really just comes to being like a shiny gem, something demons want to collect -- either to simply own their soul for eternity or to consume it as a delicacy.

There is a way that demons can get a taste of power from humans in a pact, though, and that is when the human draws it out of them while under a pact. This is what MC did with Asmodeus when Solomon lent them his power back in OG Lesson 8, which was so fascinating to Asmo that he actually freely decided to make the pact with MC, just so he'd have more opportunities in the future to experience that power again.

Rather than being power that the demon receives as part of a human's soul, that seems to be a two-way street, since Solomon also references having Barbatos lend him his power in NB Lesson 1 in order to go back in time to where MC was sent. But in terms of power from humans? It's while they have the pact with the human alive that it matters.

tl;dr -- Demons want to collect human souls because they're shiny and tasty. Humans want pacts for power.

#apologies if the images are not side-by-side like they should be #the formatting isn't correct on the desktop dash it seems :( #but wow multiple posts in one week? who are we #obey me #obey me! #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #omnb #obey me nightbringer spoilers #obey me solomon #obey me lucifer #obey me analysis #ask and ye shall be answered #ask and ye shall receive (essays) #demons being demons

[kairiscorner]

i just want what's best for you. — miles 1610 x reader

summary: no matter how much miles may love you, you still have to get through his mom for you two to be together. first impressions didn't go so well, and now... now you're starting to think she's right about you. but somehow, you both come to an understanding, and... eventually, an understanding can be made between you two. pairing: miles 1610 x gn!reader genre: slight angst + comfort word count: 2,045 request: Could you do a miles (42 or 1610 or both) x reader where his mom isn’t to fond of her but, it’s only because she doesn’t want to see him get hurt. And reader considers breaking up with him and his mom overhears and feels bad. a/n: hello lovely anon !! omg this was really fun to do ngl, I WILL BE SO CRUSHED IF THIS GETS FLOPPED RGHHHHH i will cry bUT ANYWAY I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS, AND SORRY FOR THE CRAPPY SPANISH AND PROBABLY OOC RIO, I'M SORRY, I TRIED...........

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

meeting your partners' parents is never easy; it can be fun, if their parents take a liking to you and are amicable--maybe if they see you as family already for them, then you've hit the jackpot. though, in your case, you couldn't be any worse off than that. you did a few things that miles' parents didn't approve of, a few things that didn't settle right with them or made them slightly cautious about you. be it due to how you look, your lifestyle, your manner of speech and nonchalance around them, how you try a little too hard or not enough to get on their good sides--whatever it was, it didn't make them entirely fond of nor trust you, especially with the fact that you were dating their son and they have made it very clear to him: "no dating until you're 25".

they eventually gave in to miles' persuasion that he was 'old enough' to be dating, to be asking you out and going out with you, and being able to spend time with you without having to hide from his parents where he's been and what he's been doing. his father had to vouch for him, after he made miles swear he and you wouldn't be doing anything stupid nor hide anything from them, and though he trusts miles... he has little faith in you, seeing as how you two hardly speak and only exchange nods, glances, and greetings whenever you're around at miles' place. jeff isn't much of a problem for you, though, he's since accepted that his son loves you and that he wants to be with you--but miles' mom, rio, still hasn't come around to that fact.

in complete honesty... every time rio looks at you, you feel like she's glaring at you, staring you down, sometimes outright judging you in her head. miles swears she doesn't mean anything bad with how she looks at you nor how she speaks, even though she may sound dismissive around you. you try to believe miles, even though it does sometimes come off that rio wants nothing between you and her son. but that whole blind fantasy came crashing down around you during dinner one night when rio confronted miles passive-aggressively and a bit subtly on why his grades seemed to be going down and why some nights, he's out of his room when she comes in.

you were going to speak to miles in the kitchen, ask him if he'd like to watch a movie tonight in his room since you two hardly have time for each other these days, but you stopped in your tracks when you heard rio and miles' voices in the kitchen, sounding as if they were arguing over something. you crept close to the doorway, knowing that eavesdropping on their private conversation was wrong, but you wouldn't have stayed if you just didn't hear rio utter your name, followed by: "i don't even know why you picked them, but mijo, i... i have no reason to believe they're not the reason why you're so distracted these days. don't you think that, maybe... they're a bad influence on you?"

a cold stinging feeling shot up your body and spine as you heard rio talk about you like that, with your eyes widening as you realized what she just proposed to miles: she thinks you're a bad influence on her son. miles defended you, however, claiming that he hasn't even been able to see you for days at a time, that you're busy with personal stuff and school--that you aren't a bad influence on him, none of this is your fault. rio tried to hear miles out, but none of it was computing to her; in her eyes, her son was a good boy who couldn't do anything to disappoint her, maybe do a few wrongs here and there, but he'd never let something like a bad performance at school progress, and he would especially quit sneaking out at night after the first few times, right?

"mom, i'm telling you, they're not involved with anything bad, i'm not involved in anything bad! i just... look, i'm..." miles stuttered as he tried to explain to his mother all these anomalous occurrences and his behavior recently, and due to this hesitation, rio's resolve to pin the blame on you had only gotten worse. "mijo, look at me. please, just... tell your mom the truth. i don't want you to get hurt, to jeopardize yourself and your well-being all for some... person you like. what is it you're doing that's distracting you? is it them? it's gotta be them, otherwise you wouldn't–miles! aún no he terminado de hablar, jovencito, vuelve aquí!" rio called after her son as miles had enough and ran off out of the kitchen, feeling frustrated that his own mother couldn't even believe him that neither of you were up to anything bad. if he lied again, she'd be pissed; and if he told her the truth, she'd be even more pissed, it was a lose-lose scenario for him that had no good solution. at least... not one he'd like.

you crept up the stairs and knocked on miles' door, calling out to him in a soft voice. miles opened the door a crack, and once he verified it was indeed you, he opened the door wider and faced you properly. before you could get a word out, he immediately wrapped you in a big hug, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "man, babe, i'm... oh, am i glad to see you..." he whispered as you hugged him back, a little saddened at what you were about to tell him, about to do to him.

miles pulled away eventually and welcomed you into his room, closing the door behind you two as you he told you could sit down by his bed, as usual. you hesitantly sat down next to him, tensing up a little as you took your seat on his plush bed. he looked over at you with concern tinting his eyes; he reached out for you as you looked down to the floor, away from him. "hey, babe... what's wrong? did i do something, did something... happen?" he asked you as he brushed away the stray hairs on your forehead as you looked at him with sadness filling your frame. you breathed a sigh of reluctance as you fidgeted with your fingers, feeling that if you did this, you'd be doing him and his parents a favor--but on the other hand, you'd be crushing him to bits.

you took in a deep breath and finally exhaled after holding it in for a bit as you gazed back at him, with miles looking at you so anxiously and murmuring if you were alright, if he could do anything to help, but... this was all that could be done now. "miles... you can't be dating me anymore. i'm sorry, it's... my fault." you said in a quieted voice, though the way you said it sounded very vague, miles still felt incredibly crushed and confused by what you meant that 'it was your fault'.

a look of hurt dashed his face as he brought his hand upon yours and reassured you that, no, whatever you meant, it couldn't have been your fault. he tried to comfort you and help you realize that whatever was going on between you two, he'd make up for it. "is it... is it because we aren't able to, y'know, to... be together all the time? is that it...?" he asked you nervously as you shook your head, still looking away from him. miles heaved a little as he tried to calm himself down, rationalize first what could've been the reason why you wanted to suddenly break up with him after he just defended you in front of his mother without you knowing... or... or did you?

how could you explain to miles that a breakup isn't something you wanted, but felt was best for... well, not for you two, but for his parents to quit getting on his case? you didn't hate his parents, not one bit, you understood their concerns if you were in their shoes–but you didn't know what else to do, you couldn't stand seeing miles get chewed out by his own mother for your sake. you sighed as you tried to hold back your tears, as your throat flared up as you kept your sob in and shook your head. "it has nothing to do with you, miles. like i said, it's... it's my fault. i'm sorry, look, i don't... i don't think i'm good enough for you." you tried telling him without breaking down right then and there as miles kept getting his heart pierced in every which way with every word you uttered.

miles tried to understand, but most of all, he kept rambling to you how you both could make it work, he'll be there–it isn't... whatever happened between you two, it isn't your fault. miles teared up a little as he kept holding on to your hand, but his tears finally fell when you let go of his hand and got up to leave. "wait, love–!" he called out for you as you opened the door and, surprise-surprise, his mother was there by the door, listening in on you two with a sad expression.

you yelped when you saw her, with her yelping as well–miles yelped at the both of you yelping, and rio had to tell you both to calm down... no one need to break up with anybody. "i came to say that... that i'm sorry, mijo, and... i'm sorry i've been so cold to you." she said as she looked at you with guilt and remorse in her eyes and tone. she sighed as she leaned against the doorway and looked away from the two of you.

"i don't hate you, i'm just... scared, is all. i'm worried you won't love my boy as much as you say you can, because... i can't control either of you, i can't know what you both do at all times, especially you, miles." she said as she pointed at miles, with miles looking at her with a confused gaze. rio sighed again as she walked over to you and looked up at your eyes, placing her hand on your chin to get you to look at her square in the face.

"i'm sorry if i made it seem like... it was your fault my son hasn't been honest with me–" she said as she shot miles an angry look, "–but you have no fault in this. i'm sorry, just, mother instincts got out of hand." she apologized as you smiled and nodded. "it's okay, mrs. morales..." you said as she smiled. "you know, i kinda like you a little better now. 'mrs. morales', finally..." she said with a smile as you chuckled, with rio telling miles he can still be with you and go out with you if he promises never to sneak out anymore and to get those grades back up.

miles nodded as he told his mom he has to talk to you, alone. "okay, but no locked doors–" "yeah, yeah, got it mom!" miles called out from behind the door as he closed it on her. you rubbed the back of your neck as miles looked down at the ground, the both of you feeling really awkward but pretty relieved at the same time with how that 'breakup' between you two was very short lived.

miles cleared his throat as he began to speak, but you rushed up and hugged him, murmuring how glad you are that you didn't have to leave him. miles reciprocated your hug and whispered back to you he'd never let anybody–not even his own parents–get in the way of him loving you dearly. he was just glad his mom, though very slowly–started to realize you weren't a distraction to him, but someone he cared about.

he understands all she wants is the best for him, but... maybe now was the time he decided what was best for him on his own, and that'd be with you by his side, letting him love you wholeheartedly.

tags !! @ii01vq @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @k4tsu3 @solecitoszn @toneystank-3000 @fiannee @popeheywardssecretgf @lovefrominaya @onginlove @meowmoraless

#earth 1610 miles morales #earth 1610 miles morales x reader #across the spiderverse #earth 1610 miles morales x you #earth 1610 miles morales x y/n #atsv #atsv miles #atsv x reader #atsv x you #atsv x y/n #atsv imagines #spiderman across the spiderverse #miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 1610 miles #earth 1610 miles x reader #e1610 miles #e1610 miles x reader