#do you realize i've been loving these characters for two years (this year i got more fond of mha bc before i wasn't this much invested)

[jinwoosungs]

09/21/24; 08:45am

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ when they break it off with you and regret it ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

warnings: potentially ooc characters (especially xavier’s). just imagine them under severe stress ;;

it had been weeks since the last time you had ever spoken to sylus, yet when you tried to dial his number, only to receive a dial tone in return-

you knew something was amiss.

you spent countless sleepless nights, alone in your bed. anxious thoughts haunting every minute that ticks by, making the passing minutes morph into countless hours.

and what was worse?

you stopped seeing signs of mephisto trailing behind you, his beady, black eyes following your every movement while feeding sylus a livestream of what you were doing (a safety measure he had began simply to protect you).

had you done something wrong?

what had changed between you and sylus during the two years you spent dating?

and why was he acting so distant now, without even speaking a word to you?

strengthening your resolve, you got out of bed after work and headed directly towards the n109 zone. despite how you could feel your pounding heart thrumming beneath your throat and the way your palms seemed to sweat with each step that you take.

upon reaching sylus's residence, hand formed into a fist to knock against his door when it suddenly opens, revealing a giggling woman. she nearly runs into you, completely unaware of your presence. her wide, jade-green eyes look back at you, with long lashes that perfectly frames at her face.

her lips were painted a burgundy red, and as she assesses you, her gaze immediately turns hostile. before saying a word, she stops herself, choosing instead to give you a smirk. tossing aside her long curls of auburn hair, she lets out a haughty huff before walking out of sylus's home.

ice was felt running through your veins, making your heart freeze over. you struggled to comprehend what was going on. who was she? and why was she coming out of your boyfriend's home? you stood there, completely dumbfounded and hurt at the thought of sylus's potential betrayal.

as if responding to your turmoil, sylus appears in front of you, a bored expression painting his handsome features with an air of nonchalance. he was dressed in his usual, pristine suit, his crimson eyes no longer filled with warmth as they met your gaze. you shakily call out his name, only to receive an annoyed scoff in response.

"what are you doing here? i thought me blocking you and shutting down all communication with you was clear enough."

you refuse to let the hurt show on your face, clenching your hands together as you balled then into tighter fists. "what do you mean by that? how is it clear enough when what i've always wanted was for you to tell me directly. i thought you would be mature enough to give me a verbal breakup face to face."

sylus lets out a grunt of annoyance, stepping out of his home while meeting you on the steps. "so you could take the hint after all, you just want me to say it? then fine, i'll say it."

he harshly grabs a hold of your chin, placing it within an almost painful, vice grip. he forces you to meet with his gaze, speaking witha finality that manages to shatter your heart into millions of pieces. "we're over. you were nothing more than just a toy for me to kill time with."

a gasp manages to escape from your parted lips, and you immediately shoved yourself away from sylus, tears marring your vision as you ran away from him.

it was over.

the love you felt for him-

the love you worked so hard to protect was gone now-

all because you were simply used as a means to ease sylus's boredom.

{ ... }

you lost track of time, unsure of how long it's been since sylus had called it off so callously with you. the warm seasons had morphed into winter, leaving you with a bitter taste as you realized just how numb you felt.

it was the same routine every day.

wake up.

go to work.

eat the most minimal amount of food, just to sustain yourself to get through the day.

wash away your tears in the shower.

head to bed-

rinse, wash, and repeat.

despite the falling snow, and how it was gently piling up against the sidewalk, you opted out of wearing a proper coat and chose to wear a certain sweater instead. its fabric was already close to being frayed, its cream color reminiscent of just how well it fit against an impossibly handsome face with gentle, rufescent eyes.

you didn't know why you still kept his sweater. perhaps you were still deluding yourself into believing sylus still loved you. the single item you had kept from him still had his lingering scent, and whenever you closed your eyes, you could imagine it was sylus's arms wrapped tightly around you, securing you with his warmth.

a shudder courses through your body, with your eyes simply focusing on the footprints your boots made into the snow. you were getting closer to your apartment complex, ready to take those concrete steps two at a time before something distracts you from moving forward.

settled directly in front of the stairs was a wrapped present that had your full name on it. the curiosity you felt ends up warding off the cold momentarily, making you curious as to who had given you this gift.

ignoring the way the snowflake fell against your eyelashes, you gently tear open the present from the side, revealing a large, black velvet box. with bated breath, you pry open the box to see a gorgeously crafted necklace depicting an onyx crow shielding a ruby heart with its wings.

you were so captivated by the necklace that you almost didn't catch the lingering scent, a familiar cologne you had memorized and kept in the back of your memories. the cold chill of the wintry day was gone now, replaced by an irrevocable warmth that surrounds you, warming you to your core.

"i'm sorry, i know that mere words cannot make up for all of the hurt i had put you through."

the stinging sensation of tears threatens to fall from your eyes, yet you remained completely and utterly still, allowing sylus to further strengthen his hold around you. "the woman you saw all those months ago was the daughter of a former client, a client i wished to get rid of. i wanted to keep you safe from her and her notorious family, that's why i ended things with you."

"you don't know how torn i was, realizing that i was the cause of your heartbreak. i've lost sleep, and struggled to maintain my health all while doing all that i could to protect you."

your heart becomes filled with empathy just then, feeling the way sylus shudders against you, hiding his face within the crook of your neck. you call out to him, turning your head ever so slightly to catch a glimpse of him. his features appeared paler now, his cheeks losing its once defined edge while taking on a more gaunt exterior. dark circles were seen beneath his eyes, serving as evidence of how little sleep he had gotten.

the gift falls from the palm of your hands, and you were filled once more with love and concern for him. your hands shake, gently framing at his face as sylus closes his eyes, nuzzling himself even closer to the palm of your hands. "you've lost weight."

he shakes his head, pressing a kiss against the palm of your hands. "it's nothing compared to the pain i've caused you."

tears well up within your eyes, making sylus frown as he gently kneels down before you, picking up the box that still contained his precious gift to you. "here, let me help you put this on."

standing back to his full height, he brushes back your hair, pressing a kiss against your exposed neck before unclasping the necklace. once he fastens the chain, he allows the onyx and ruby pendant to fall against your chest.

words no longer needed to be spoken the moment sylus takes you into his arms, placing a searing kiss against your lips with the hopes of conveying the heartache and regret that was felt mounting within him following the months after your departure.

zayne had missed your three year anniversary together.

here you are, standing in the middle of your once shared dining room table, preparing him a celebratory meal that consisted of all of his favorite foods. disappointment was felt weighing your heart down, and despite all of your best efforts, zayne still hadn't come home from work.

it wasn't like you didn't try to give him hints about your plans. in fact, on the morning that marked your third anniversary, you gave zayne's office a call, setting a gentle reminder for him and the occasion.

you remembered how it sounded like he had visibly stiffened on the other end, clearing his throat while reassuring you that he'll be home tonight in order to celebrate with you. your heart, still filled with love for him as you viewed the world through a rose colored lens, believed every single word that came from his parted lips.

you refused to acknowledge how emotionless he sounded.

or how it felt like zayne viewed your reminder as a mere nuisance instead of being genuinely upset for forgetting about his third year anniversary with you.

no, instead, you foolishly cling to hope, still believing that he loved you despite it all.

so, you spent hours slaving away in the kitchen, cooking all of zayne's favorite foods to perfection (while making sure every recipe was void of carrots). by 7pm, you had the entire dining table set up with copious amounts of food, wishing to help strengthen him after such long shift at work.

you sit at your usual spot at the table, looking at your phone to see if zayne would call or text you, alerting you of his departure from the hospital. while waiting for him, your heart was filled with anticipation, waiting for the moment zayne's footsteps could be heard walking through the door.

7:45pm

8:30pm

9:56pm

10:14pm

as the hours ticked on, and there were still no signs of zayne walking through the door, you allowed your heart to sink to the bottom of your chest. your throat was felt closing in on you, making it harder for you to breathe as you put away all of the uneaten food into neat containers before placing them in the refrigerator.

once everything had been put away, you let out a frustrated sob, your back sliding against the cold surface of the fridge. the tears kept welling within your eyes, falling like wet droplets of rain that cascades down your face. your head was aching, and your heart was felt breaking within the confines of your chest as you struggled to think of what to do next.

sleep evaded you for the whole night, leaving your mind tired and broken as you finally decided to get off of the floor. your face had been stained and rendered damp with the saltiness of your tears, and you knew you had to make yourself at least a bit more presentable before facing zayne.

after a long shower, you put on a light sheen of makeup in hopes of hiding your swollen eyelids and chapped lips. knowing that deep down you still loved him, you made a stop to his favorite bakery and bought a box of assorted macaroons for him. the fresh scent and sweet of those cookies was enough to calm your nerves as you walked towards akso hospital with a bit of a bounce in your step.

in your head, you came up with countless excuses for him. he's the best cardiac surgeon linkon has ever known, of course he would forget here and there, but that doesn't mean he stopped loving you.

right?

right?

with the hospital building now looming over you, you purse your lips and try to calm your rapidly beating heart. due to the thousands of times you had navigated through the hospital, you reached zayne's office in just a few minutes, allowing yourself inside as you saw zayne laying back against his chair, still caught in a slumber.

zayne only awakens when he hears your approaching footsteps, eyes squinting in response to the intensity of the sun. clearing his throat, he adjusts his tie before sitting up properly on his desk. he places his reading glasses on, meeting your gaze while speaking in a hoarse tone.

"what are you doing here?"

unable to stop the tears that well up within your eyes, you place the box of macaroons on his desk. "i came here because i was worried about you... and... and i wanted to tell you that you forgot our anniversary dinner."

zayne's eyes go wide momentarily before letting out a deep sigh. he takes off his glasses, rubbing the stress from his temples before telling you with an almost brutal honesty, "i'm sorry, but my work takes precedence over your own happiness. there are countless lives that are relying on me to be saved, and i can't afford to ignore a single soul."

you felt as though you had been slapped in the face, your heart clenching along with the way your breathing hitches almost painfully in response.

"then... what are y-you trying to say?"

with an exasperated sigh of your name, zayne admits to you once more, "i would much rather bury myself into work than focus on your happiness."

for you, that was the moment you knew that it was all over between you and zayne. giving him a stiff nod, you swiftly turn away from him, allowing your tears to freely fall while choking back a sob. the love you felt for zayne began to well up deep within your chest, and now that you no longer had his love, you felt as though your whole world was ending.

{ ... }

you had no idea how you were able to move on with your life, acting like nothing was wrong for the past 3 months since zayne had broken it off with you.

since that day, you immediately moved out of zayne's home, haphazardly tossing your clothes and the rest of your belongings in a few suitcases. unable to bear the thought of even seeing him again, you blocked his number and moved in with a close friend of yours.

through your tears, you allowed your best friend to comfort you with copious cartons of ice cream and a manicure, allowing your friend to polish your nails while giving you her spare bedroom to sleep in.

as your friend spent the day working, you decided to treat yourself on your day off. not wishing to remain holed up in the apartment, you decided to explore linkon city and visit various shops you missed going to ever since your breakup with zayne.

for your first stop of the day, you decided to visit a quaint little bookstore located within the heart of the city. entering the building, you allow the fresh scent of books fill you, basking in the tranquil environment of it all.

not caring about what book you were going to purchase, you simply explore each of the aisles, choosing books that piqued your interest based solely on the title and cover alone. once you made your selection, the kind cashier up front rings out your books before holding out a hand to you, not accepting your form of payment when she slides a sleek black card within the card reader.

"i'm sorry for the inconvenience, miss, but i was given strict orders to not allow you to pay for your books."

her statement makes you tilt your head in response. "o-oh? but... who would do something so kind?"

the cashier shrugs while giving you a wink, placing your books in a neat pile within a bag. "hard to say, maybe someone just felt generous today, that's all."

despite her strange reasoning, you still thanked her for her time and generosity, watching as she slid the strange credit card beneath the cash register before leaving.

excited with your purchases, you were eager to read your novels the moment you returned home.

as you tucked away the memory of your paid books to the back of your mind, you figured that would be the end of such kindness-

only to be proven wrong throughout the day.

for starters, when you had gotten hungry and decided to eat some of your favorite pastries at a cafe, the same exact scenario occurred-

the cashier politely declines your payment, telling you that everything was paid for while giving you that same, mysterious smile.

choosing to ignore such strangeness, you went on with your day, exploring linkon while ignoring the lingering sensation of being watched. after spending several more hours within the city, you decided to treat yourself to a nice dinner at your favorite restaurant.

you went all out with your dinner as well, ordering a three course meal that consisted of all your favorite foods. the total price that came at the end of the meal would cost you a pretty penny-

yet when you attempt to pay for your meal, your waiter tells you that it had already been taken care of. by now, you were desperate to know who the culprit was, unable to comprehend why such a stranger would be so kind to you, of all people?

the waiter was the only one who relented to the identity of this person, giving you a thoughtful expression while shrugging, "i didn't get his name, but he was a tall man with dark hair dressed in a black trench coat."

and that was all the answer you needed to confirm your very suspicions.

clutching your bag of books close to your chest, you hurriedly run out of the restaurant, seeing the same tall man walking with his head down low, as if wishing to blend with the night itself. not wishing him to walk away from you, you call out to him,

"ZAYNE!"

the tall man stiffens, but stops walking when you cried out to him. taking advantage of the fact that he was standing still, you catch up with him, not stopping until he was a mere inches in front of you.

no words were spoken, and you watch as zayne turns around to face you. a gasp was felt coming from your parted lips, and you had to take a step back, finally realizing how much weight zayne had lost as the dark circles beneath his eyes catches you off guard.

an expression filled with regret meets your gaze, and you felt your heart aching with such empathy for him that you take a step forward, reaching out to him.

with wide eyes, zayne steps back, guilt filling his features as he shakes his head, "don't. i don't deserve to be close to you. the only thing i can do is make you happy from a distance."

you shake your head and take a step forward. "why?"

zayne frowns at your question, "what do you mean?"

"why do you believe that you can only make me happy from a distance?"

zayne could no longer meet your gaze then, choosing instead to bite down on his bottom lip. "i-i squandered your love when you offered it so freely to me. i chose to focus on my career instead of making you happy- w-when all you have ever done is do everything in your power to make me happy, even when i didn't deserve it."

you shake your head, dropping your bag of books so that you could fully embrace zayne with no barriers between you and him. you hear the way his breath hitches, but bask in his warmth the moment he returns your embrace.

"you're such an intelligent man, yet a-at the same time, you're the biggest dummy i know. you should have known that what i felt for you was and always has been unconditional. despite how hurt i was when you forgot our anniversary, i couldn't bring myself to truly hate you."

a shudder was felt going through zayne, and you relish in the sensation of his arms wrapping around you, bringing you even closer to his chest in a tighter embrace. "no more; no longer will i take your love for granted. this i promise you..."

he frames at your face, tilting your head upwards, allowing you to meet with his gaze once more before leaning forward. zayne seals his promise to you in a searing kiss, and the sensation of the way his lips perfectly slot against yours was enough to make you forget all about your prior heartaches...

xavier had once again, allowed your calls to go straight to voicemail. the weeks leading up to you trying to get in touch with him, he had left every single one of your text messages on read, never once giving you an explanation about his behavior.

two months had passed when you finally saw xavier again.

after spending weeks visiting his apartment, only to receive no answer in return, you forced yourself to take the hint and stopped coming to his place, wallowing in your own miseries as you thought about what could have gone wrong between you and your boyfriend.

you had simply been running errands when you saw him walking around the streets of the city, hand buried deep within the pocket of his hoodie. your eyes go wide at the mere sight of him, with you making a mad dash across the city in order to reach him.

"xavier!"

you watch as the young hunter seems to stiffen in his tracks, not daring to even move a muscle when you caught up to him. he meets your curious gaze with cold eyes the shade of hardened sapphires. such a look was enough to stop you dead in your tracks, your heart pounding with anxious beats now at what was to come.

"h-hey, i was worried about you. w-where have you been?"

xavier ends up shaking his head, pinching at the bridge of his nose before fully facing you, "dammit... i knew i was forgetting something."

you frown upon hearing his words, "forgetting something? l-like what?"

he scoffs before meeting your gaze once more, "i was referring to breaking up with you."

your breathing comes out in labored, shallowed breaths just then. your whole world felt like it was spinning on its axis, changing the trajectory of your life as you took a step back. "w-what? please tell me you're joking!"

the hunter shakes his head, "i'm not joking at all, you've gotten so clingy lately, and it's putting a damper on my work as a hunter. your constant calls and texts have become a distraction that i can simply do without."

he meets your gaze, expression flashing momentarily with an unknown emotion before reverting back to his cold gaze. “if i knew how much of a chore it was going to be to keep up with this relationship all while trying to maintain my strength as a hunter, then i wouldn’t have even tried.”

an immense pain and anger was felt coursing through your veins just then, "are you fucking kidding me? the reason why i text and call you so often is because i'm worried about you! i worry because i still care, because i still lo-"

"don't." xavier hisses at you, cutting off your words with a look of disdain. you could feel your heart cease its beats, making your throat turn dry when you shakily ask him, "so, are you s-saying it's over?"

he scoffs, refusing to meet your gaze when he admits to you, "it's been over since the moment i agreed to take that two month long mission, just to get away from you and find a moment of peace.”

your breathing nearly stops right then and there. being fueled solely by your heartache and anger, you step closer to him and lift your hand, slapping his cheek as the sound of the palm of your hand meeting with his skin in a harsh manner echoes throughout the city. he remains silent, slowly facing you once more as the imprint of your hand was seen against his cheek.

xavier's pale cheek was now a harsh red hue due to the intensity of your slap. he shuts his eyes and calls out your name, but you immediately back away from him with tears streaming down your face. you leave your callous ex behind, willing yourself to move on from him when you finally walked away, refusing to look back.

{ ... }

a total of 6 months had passed since your messy breakup with xavier, and despite how angry you felt-

the stupid hole in your heart refused to let him go, your mind painting a collage of precious memories that you couldn't just simply forget. from xavier placing glowing stars against your room's ceilings, to the various moments of intimacy you shared while within the comfort of his arms-

your mind couldn’t help but go back to those precious days. despite everything, you did understand where xavier was coming from. each day, a new mission as a hunter was placed upon him, and because of how you lived your life as a normal civilian, you couldn’t understand what he was going through…

which left you nothing else to cling to but bitter memories of what could be. every single waking moment was spent going through each and every moment you shared with him, your heart forever yearning for him and how things could have been different.

forcing yourself to rid yourself of your tears, you walk into work the next day, not expecting anything different in particular when the sight of something stops you dead in your tracks. surrounding your tiny cubicle space were bouquets of various styles and colors, each and every one of them appearing just as extravagant as the last. you take another step into your office, eyes nearly filling with tears from the sheer amount of colors that surrounds you.

it takes you a moment to take in each precious bloom, your throat turning dry as you allowed the sweet scent of the petals to fill your senses. feeling overwhelmed, you turn around, only to stop when a familiar blond young man appears before you.

xavier's eyes no longer appear callous and cold, now filled with a lingering regret as he held a bouquet of red roses within his hand. he says your name, the syllables breaking slightly due to the slight tremor heard in his voice.

"i-i'm sorry, i've been such a jackass to you that i didn't realize what i had before i lost it. i-it's all my fault, for never appreciating the love and care you had for me. i kept viewing your love as a hindrance… a nuisance when it was so undeserved. and for that, truly- i’m sorry.”

you shake your head, muttering "dumbass" beneath your breath before walking towards him, framing his stupidly handsome face between your hands before crushing your lips against his in a searing kiss. xavier ends up dropping the bouquet of roses, allowing it to fall carelessly to the ground as his shaky hands cupped at your cheek, returning your kiss with just as much fervor...

finding comfort that despite it all, you still loved him enough to forgive him.

when your calls kept going to voicemail, and your messages remained unread by rafayel, you decided that it was time to visit him at his place. within the depths of your heart, you had no concerns about your relationship with the talented artist.

in fact, you were so proud of your boyfriend and how far he has come, with his first exhibition approaching within the next year. you knew that he was probably engrossed with making new pieces to showcase his art, but you wanted to make sure that he was properly taking care of himself, too.

with a bag of his favorite takeout in hand, you extract the spare key to his apartment from the confines of your purse and enter his home. what you weren't expecting was to see the awful state his apartment was rendered to.

surrounding you were torn pieces of canvas and broken marble, with splatters of paint seen across each half-finished piece of art. placing the bag of takeout on the kitchen counter, you quickly dash towards rafayel's room, only to feel your heart sink at the sight of him.

dressed in his signature white shirt and dress pants, he remains slumped over on the ground, gripping at his wavy strands of hair as sobbed wracked through his body. you immediately rush over to him, calling out his name before placing him within the comfort of your arms.

you feel his entire body stiffen while in your embrace, removing his face away from his hands while looking back at you. a strange, almost alien look of annoyance graces his features, making you do a double take when he physically removes your arms off of him.

"rafe?" you tentatively call out his name, making the artist angrily wipe away his tears before meeting your gaze.

"what are you doing here? i thought i told you i would be busy setting up for my first exhibit."

you shake your head, "n-no, i completely understand, it's just- i was just worried about you. i wanted to give you a break, a-and even bought your favorite takeout!"

rafayel scoffs in response to your admission, "you shouldn't have done that. you've not only wasted your time, but mine as well."

you felt the way your heart clenches painfully in response to his words, the coldness of it all making you take a step back. but rafayel wasn't finished, oh no, far from it.

he stalks closer to you, the entirety of his body seeming to stiffen even further as he balls both of his fists closer to his sides. "my artistic muse is suffering because of you and how you're always demanding my time. i've got an exhibition coming up within the next 8 months, and i don't want you to ruin it."

tears were streaming down your face, and you tried to hold on to hope that your beloved rafayel didn't mean it. that he was just stressed and simply wanted everything to go well that he was overworking himself.

yet all of your hopes were dashed the moment his once brilliant eyes began to shine with annoyance for you.

"it's over."

a broken sob manages to escape from your parted lips, with you turning away from him all while blindly searching for the door. the sheer amount of tears did little to ease the utter heartbreak you felt, allowing the shattered pieces of your heart to fall as you struggled to even breathe.

once you were out of his home, you take quick strides back home, somehow knowing that your life would never be the same without rafayel in it.

{ ... }

8 months had passed since your breakup with rafayel, and you honestly forgot all about his upcoming exhibit.

despite how you were certain that you could no longer feel a speck of happiness within your heart, you still tried to do things to get out of your house and enjoy your day.

wishing to explore the city, you bought a cone of your favorite ice cream, proceeding to eat it as you walked around linkon when you felt several eyes looking at you. you frown and look back, only for the person to quickly look away, whispering something to their friend.

you found this behavior to be strange, but shrugged it off all while continuing to enjoy your ice cream.

even when you tried to ignore the lingering gazes, it still felt extremely odd to you, making you lose your appetite as you threw away what was left of your ice cream cone.

"excuse me, miss?" you stop walking, coming face to face with an older woman with a kind face. she brushes back her strands of silvery hair before asking you, "may i take a closer look at you?"

your eyebrows come together in a frown, yet you relent and give her a nod all the same. she thanks you, coming closer to gently frame at your face with her frail, two hands. after her gentle inspection of you, she lets go of you and smiles, "you truly are beautiful, i can see why that young artist chose you as his muse."

you could feel the way your heart began to beat faster against your chest, making you swallow thickly as you shakily ask her, "w-what is this artist's name?"

"oh, he's a beautiful young man by the name of rafayel!" the lady's eyes twinkle with amusement, not taking offense to your actions even when you turned away from her.

not able to focus on anything else but him, you allow your feet to take you to the address of his first exhibition, leading you to a gorgeous glass building where you could see the various art he had on display. as you entered the building, the guests seemed to sense your presence and knew exactly who you were due to how each piece of art had your likeness.

mesmerized at the sheer amount of talent rafayel displayed, you felt as though you were looking at yourself through a golden lens. despite how imperfect and ugly you felt some days, rafayel manages to capture your essence while accentuating it all, making you appear so beautiful as those tiny imperfections simply served to add character to your features.

from the way your eyes crinkled each time you laughed-

to the subtle droplet of tears with your lips formed into a pout each time you cried-

each moment was captured so perfectly (so lovingly) within each canvas that you found it harder to breathe. as you take in the artworks that surround you, you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.

"you had always been my muse, yet i was too stupid and selfish to realize it."

you gasp, turning around to see rafayel carrying a bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. a melancholic expression was seen within his gaze when he comes closer to you, falling to his knees while offering the bouquet to you.

feeling the tears welling up within your eyes, you shakily accept the bouquet and gently hold it to your chest, watching as rafayel remains kneeling before you. "i'm a selfish and childish brat who takes out his frustrations on those he loves... and i'm so sorry for lashing out at you that day when you wanted nothing more than to take care of me."

"i know i don't deserve it, b-but i love you, and i can't live without you. i-if you could just give me another chance, then-!"

but rafayel was cut off the moment you fall to your knees with him, setting aside bouquet as you leaned closer to him, swallowing rafayel's tears with a kiss, you felt the way he lets out a gasp, remaining frozen for a brief second before responding mere moments later.

with his large hand felt cupping at the side of your face, rafayel returns your kiss, not daring to let you go now that he had you back within his arms-

back to where you have always belonged.

end notes: writing this while listening to joji has been so fitting 🥹 currently unedited, but changes will be made once this is posted.

editing notes: just to clarify, all of my reader characters for my lads stories are supposed to be genuine self inserts for the reader themselves. i know that if it was the mc, such a scenario like this could never happen, due to everyone’s lore. but i don’t like using mc as a cover for my readers, since none of us could ever achieve such pristine beauty and perfection. i’m sorry if this story ends up being incredibly ooc, but the reader characters i try to write for are flawed and very human. thanks for coming to my ted talk, and for reading and giving my stories a chance 🥹

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

[averagewriter-inthedark]

The Romantics 🎸 | Pete Mitchell Imagine

Part of my 'Y/n & The Romantics' TGM AU verse

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x 80s Rockstar!reader (romantic), Bradley Bradshaw x reader (mother/son-type relationship), Dagger Squad (platonic)

content warnings: Fluff, slight profanity, flirtatious banter, light suggestive content, mentions of past drug use. pop culture references | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 5k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @fangirlvibez) 🩶

Premise: After two years since getting the band back together, Y/n and The Romantics have got the opportunity most artists dream of getting when they've achieved legendary status in their career: a documentary film. Recalling the days of discovery, early stardom and the love she found along the way, frontwoman & daughter of Rock n' Roll Y/n L/n-Mitchell writes a love letter to not only her fans, but the pilot who captured her heart...and the little girl with a voice of an angel who broke away from God to become a rockstar.

Note: I've said it and I'll say it again, writing dagger squad x famous!reader is in my top 3 pairings I've written for, and it makes me so happy that after two plus years of doing them, you guys love them and continue to request them--even when I've been slacking on getting through requests. This request was the spark I needed and once I started typing, it never stopped. Again (like every note in my works the past several months) I'm sorry for the wait and I hope this gives you everything you hoped for. 🩶

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3….2….1…

“Are we rolling?” Y/n laughed, apologizing to the producers and crew in front of her when she realized they had already begun filming when she was off in la la land singing ‘How Will I Know,’ by Whitney Houston under her breath while an assistant made sure the mic was secured on her t-shirt.

“Yes, Ms. Y/n,” the lady in an all red pantsuit chuckled, adjusting her headset and motioning for the cameraman to not stop the camera. “But don’t worry we’ll edit it out.”

They were not going to edit it out. In fact it was going to be the opening sequence to Y/n’s personal bits. 

“I’m so embarrassed,” the rockstar hid her face with a hand, but then remembered she valued her life and would not ruin the masterpiece her makeup artist had created. “I’m sorry--I’m ready when you are, darling.” 

To celebrate the 45th anniversary of the release of their first song, Y/n & The Romantics were approached by HBO to film a documentary recounting their early days of their group, the height of their career, the twenty-year hiatus, and finally their reunion with a crew following them during the American leg of their 2024 world tour. It was an exciting opportunity. One the band--and especially their lifelong fans--were delighted. 

It’d been two years since their return to music. Together as a group that is. And not once had it lost its thrill. Releasing two albums, going on back-to-back World Tours, winning two Grammy’s and three Moonman. Performing at the Billboard Music Awards where they received the Icon Award. A song from their early albums featured on the Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 soundtrack. 

Things were looking great. Perfect.

Now Y/n sat in the comfort of her home, dogs taking claim to areas not occupied by the many crew members, recording her personal interviews for the documentary while Pete and Rooster worked in the garage to pass time until Y/n and Pete were to do their piece. 

The producer adjusted herself in the chair, clipboard in her lap, “So, Y/n, I’m going to ask some relatively basic questions, but just speak what your heart desires. Sounds good?”

She gives a thumbs up, “sounds great.”

“I guess we’ll start by having you introduce yourself,” a few chuckles rang out. Y/n letting out a giggle as the producer shrugged with a smile. “I know, I know. We know you but for this part we’ll be showing flashbacks of your early childhood.” 

“Okay, okay. No pressure.” Y/n got comfortable. Looking straight at the camera, Y/n gave a dazzling smile. “Hi, I’m Y/n L/n, songwriter and frontwoman of Y/n and The Romantics. I was born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia and I will not disclose my age,” she winked, chuckling with the crew. She recently celebrated her 60th birthday. “You can google that information.” 

“Can you tell us about what your childhood was like? For those who may not know, how did you and the others meet?”

Y/n inhaled deeply, the memories of growing up in the late 60s and early 70s surfacing. Replying in her mind like an old film. Beaming as she recalled, “we all lived on the same block--went to the same elementary school and junior high before we got signed. Maya and I were neighbors, Evan lived across the street. Danny and Ronnie were up the road, closest to a convenient store we’d go to on the weekends to grab a coke or smoke a cigarette. We rode the same bus, had the same teachers. If I wasn’t at Maya’s, we were down at Ronnie’s or one of the guys. Chilling in the garage listening to the Beatles and B.B. King or taking the city bus to our favorite record store.”

A distant look in her eyes appeared when she began talking about her family. Both sets of grandparents died before she reached 21. Luckily they were able to witness Y/n’s career take off but missed out on major milestones. A few cousins passed on over the years, as did many friends. Unfortunately, her father greeted the other side when she was 45. And while it’s been fifteen years since, not a day goes by where she didn’t think of him. As for her mother, she just turned 90 and was still kicking. 

“My parents were working class citizens, who worked their tail off to provide for us. My father actually worked at the same company with Evan’s dad. Then mine, Ronnie’s, and Maya’s mom were part of the same social circle.” Exhaling, Y/n tilted her head with a small smile, “I had a good childhood. One many kids would wish for---a loving family living in a nice house. Yeah there were times where my parents had to forgo a home cooked meal in favor of keeping the lights on one more night. Occasionally birthday presents were postponed until a month after our birth date. But, we were happy. We had each other, and that’s all that mattered.”

Taking a sip of water, Y/n cleared her throat while adjusting her position on the couch, the producer asking, “When did you first fall in love with music? You mentioned you guys would go to the record store and in earlier interviews how you guys' covered musicians on the streets of Atlanta--which evidently is how you were discovered. Did you always want to pursue the industry as a rock band or did it come as a surprise.”

“A little bit of both,” she answered honestly. Y/n thought back to years leading up to their discovery. Their small, humble setup with secondhand instruments they got from yard sales with saved up allowance money. Claiming a corner near the busy intersection of downtown Atlanta which was now known as Olympic Centennial Park following the 1996 Atlanta Olympic Games. Keeping their guitar cases open for when passer byers dropped coins or loose bills. 

Was it the safest idea? Not really. But it was 1978 and things were different. People left their cars unlocked. One could ask a stranger for a cigarette or a ride down the street without a second thought. 1978 was a memorable year as the year the Women’s Army Corps came to an end, the discovery of Pluto’s first moon, the first IVF baby conceived, and Harriet Tubman became the first African American woman on a postage stamp. Georgia opened the first ever Home Depot, and native Jimmy Carter was president of the United States. 

“Music was always there growing up,” she explained. “My parents collected records--my mother always had one playing when cleaning or cooking. Either that or the radio was on. For my seventh birthday I received a wooden harmonica and boy was it the best gift ever,” she hummed with a smile. 

She still had that harmonic. It was on a shelf in her bedroom, right next to the picture frame holding the tickets and signed program from the Elvis Presley concert she attended in 1976. 

“Any allowance or birthday money I got was put in my piggybank--which was then cashed in on a used 1940s Fender Esquire I got from a yard sale for all of $40. And before you say anything--,” she pointed a finger, “$40 was a lot back in the day even if it was used. Especially for a twelve-year-old.” 

Like the harmonica, the first guitar Y/n ever owned was on display on the wall where the rest of them were. Beside her legendary hot pink ‘Dirty Shirley’ Fender Stratocaster and Elvis’s 1960 Gibson J-200 famously used in his 1968 comeback special.

“Of course the dream was to be discovered, signed, make music and be able to say we got to live the dream. Even if it was for a short amount of time,” Y/n talked with her hands, “but it was a shock. Never did we expect it would’ve happened the way it did. I mean c’mon,” a playful left her lips, leaning forward to emphasize her words, “we were fourteen! High school was about to start for us and there was no way in hell my parents would accept me dropping out to go live life as a rockstar.” 

“Can you tell us about that day? How exactly did it play out?” 

Of all the questions the producer asked throughout the duration of filming the documentary with the Romantics, hearing them recount the day they were discovered was in their top 3. The crew saw how each member brightened, turning back into their 14-year-old self with the excitement painting their face. 

“It was my idea to cover ‘Cry Baby’,” Danny stated. “Y/n and Maya were set on ‘California Dreamin’,’ Evan wanted to fit in, ‘Superstition,’, and Ronnie didn’t give a shit as long as we made the most out of the day. But it was yours truly who pushed for Y/n to cover Janis. You’re welcome.” 

Ronnie would go on to say, “Danny and Evan did what they always did when a pretty girl stopped to listen; fought for her attention. Maya kept telling them to shut up and focus because it was the one day of the week during the school year where we got to go into the city to play. My keyboard had probably another month before I needed to replace it. Transporting it back and forth every week kept scratching it up.”

“I don’t want to say it was superstition,” Evan winked, a nice call back to the song he originally wanted them to cover in their set list, “But when I woke up that morning, I felt something--like it wasn’t going to be a normal set we’d had. There was a shift in the air the moment I put the guitar on and Y/n started belting ‘Fortunate Son.’ Maybe it was just me…I don’t know. But to this day, I believe the stars happened to align at the right moment for us.”

Maya beamed with each word, “Halfway through our set, a butterfly landed on my bass, and it was only ten minutes later that Mr. Mayhew found us. To me it was a sign--and why my bass always has butterflies on it. Afterwards we begged my brother to take us to Burger Chef to celebrate. Which ugh--!” She made a sound of longing, “Doesn’t even exist anymore! God the days where I could get a burger, fries and a shake for less than a dollar.”

“It was like any other weekend,” scratching her jaw, Y/n remembered every detail of the moment she and the band were approached by the music producer. “It was Saturday, middle of May and already scorching hot by mid-afternoon. We were a week away from the last day of junior high. Maya’s older brother would take us to our usual spot on his way to work and pick us up at the end of his shift.” Y/n bit back a smile, thinking about the big juvenile crush she had on him. Probably because he had a car and job, which back then was an attractive thing for any guy. It never went anywhere of course, and the two stayed friends--attending each other's wedding years later. 

“Every week we’d plan a set list of songs, both covers and ones I wrote. If we ran out of songs before Maya’s brother got off, we’d either call one of our parents to pick us up or continue playing whatever song we felt like. I was intimidated, to say the least, when it came time to cover ‘Cry Baby.’ So I mentally went, ‘fuck it, just do it,’ and poured my entire soul into singing. When I finished the adrenaline kept pumping, and I barely registered the suited man walking up with a business card and telling me to, ‘have your parents call this number. You kids have talent that only comes once in a lifetime. I wanna help you share it with the world.’”

For the next hour the producer relayed the questions and Y/n recalled the years between 1979 and 1989. Their first decade as a band was filled with success and hardships. The launch of their debut single and album. Appearing on Johnny Carson and SNL, being the third music video to ever play on MTV and winning their first Grammy. We Are the World with Michael Jackson, collaborating with Duran Duran, Eurythmics, and Diana Ross. The international tours, the rumors of Danny and Y/n’s addiction--which were false, tense moments where someone nearly quit. The lawsuit against a producer who was cheating them out of money.  

It was tough. But they pulled through. 

“1989 was a memorable year,” the producer began, a knowing smile on her lips. “Not only for the band….but for you, Y/n. 1989 was the year you met Pete Mitchell.”

To say the heat in her veins rivaled that of a volcano on the verge of exploding, was an understatement. The confident, playful, rockstar reduced to that of a shy schoolgirl falling in love for the first time. 

“Yessss,” she bit her lip, glancing away from the camera to hide the grin, but it was to no avail. It stayed on as she returned her attention forward, “That’s right.” 

“We’re gonna bring Pete in soon, but like your bandmates we want to have you talk about your relationship before sitting you both down for the next portion of this interview.” 

“Of course. What would you like to know?”

“Well, to begin, can you tell us how you and Pete met? It was after you performed at the Staples Center, correct?”

“Yup. August 15, 1989, at what was once called Club Electric Idol, known today as Melvin’s Planet Enterprise in Los Angeles. We finished our gig at the Staples Center and decided to hit up a club to end the night. Electric Idol was not far from our hotel.” The blue strobe lights flashed in her mind, followed by the image of a young Pete, Ice, and Slider walking up. His hair perfectly styled, bomber jacket and aviators on. Y/n chuckled, “I don’t know how long we’d been there, but next thing I know this guy is tapping my shoulder to ask if he could take a moment of my time. At first I expected another drunken pick-up line, but Pete shocked my core when he and his friends started belting, ‘You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling,’ in the middle of the bar. Maya looked at him like he had two heads,” the giggles were now loose. Y/n unable to contain them. 

“I think Evan joined in,” a cough escaped, the woman shaking her head, “Pete was unlike any man I’d ever met. And considering I married the guy,” flashing her left hand, the diamond ring sparkled. “It’s safe to say he successfully wooed me with his beautiful rendition.”

The producer laughed with the rest of the crew, “Shall we bring him in then?”

“Ready when you are, baby.” 

Signaling the assistant, the young man raced out before returning a short moment later with Pete in tow. The pilot shyly waved to the guest, but instantly lit up when his eyes landed on Y/n. Nerves disappear with the relaxation of his features.

“Hey, hot shot.” 

“Hey there, songbird.” He took his place beside her on the couch, leaning back when the PA attached the mic to his shirt. “How’s it been going?”

“Perfect,” she replied with a smile, moving closer which then prompted their dog Ice to join them on the couch. Goose changed his napping spot to in front of Pete’s feet. Bella stayed on her bed. “Will Bradley manage the car on his own, or is he taking a break?” 

Pete reached down to give Goose a pat on the head, brushing his hand down his back to get rid of the shedding hair, “He’s heading to go shoot hoops with Jake and Payback. Said he’ll be back for dinner.”

Shuffling through her papers, the producer spoke into her headset before facing the couple. “Okay for this segment we’re gonna ease our way into the topic of relationships and maintaining them in this industry. Say whatever you’re comfortable with--we’ll edit out anything you might want cut in the final production.” 

Pete lifted a thumb, “Cool.” 

“Pete, before you came in Y/n was telling us about the night you met,” Red coating his cheeks in a flash, the pilot making a sound of embarrassment. 

“Oh God.”

Y/n giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Oh stop it, you were the star of the night, Pete Mitchell.”

“Can you explain what prompted you to approach Y/n? You were with your friends, having just attended their show hours prior, on vacation. What outcome were you hoping to come out of it?”

“To be honest with you I wasn’t exactly thinking of the outcome,” Pete, still red as a tomato, stared into the camera with a pleading look as if begging the eventual audience to believe him. “My buddies and I had this thing where when we saw a pretty lady we’d say, ‘She’s lost that lovin’ feeling,’ which was code for, ‘Please help me impress her.’ I’d only done it a few times before Y/n,” Briefly glancing at her, Pete chuckled as he recalled the words he told her, repeating them to the camera, “The first time crashed and burned. The second one got me a date, and the third….third time's a charm.” 

The next few minutes the couple went back in time. Remembering it all like it was yesterday. Afterwards Pete spoke of their first date, how he asked Y/n to be his girlfriend and the reality of going public with their relationship.

“I knew what I was signing up for when I fell in love with Y/n,” with his hand placed on top of her knee, Pete started to caress the area. The leather of her pants smooth against his thumb. “We had high demand jobs. Sometimes I couldn’t get in touch with her per my missions' orders. Her schedule was constant. But when you love someone, you make the time. You show up when it matters. I made sure to be at every major performance. Called every week--I once drove around Reno for hours trying to find a working payphone so I could wish her luck before she took to the stage. Sent flowers to her dressing room--which in the beginning was damn hard because the security thought I was a crazed fan.” 

Y/n continued, but not before laughing at her husband. “Whenever we were on break from recording or tour, I’d go to whatever base Pete was stationed at. He’d take me to the hangar and show me all there was to Naval aviation. I would say more of what we’d do, but I don’t want him getting in anymore now that he’s retired,” a sly wink was sent to the camera, both adults giggling as Mav brought a finger to his mouth, ‘shhhh.’

“Now, Y/n, during the final show of the band’s reunion tour you revealed that the rumored break up between you two before you got married never happened. How did you manage to keep such a big secret like that all these years?”

“A great publicist, not going out as much when we had time off and learning the art of deception.” Of course that last one was a little lie. In reality, they were lucky it all worked out the way it did. That people, specifically reporters and paparazzi, started to leave Pete alone. Toning down their stalking of the poor guy. Plus the band’s and Y/n’s personal publicist, with the consent of everyone involved, planted seeds of her romantically linking to other high-profile individuals. Like Paul Rudd during his early years of fame, and Ethan Hawk.

“Things at my job were becoming unstable with the amount of attention I got being Y/n’s partner,” Pete explained. “My superiors were concerned with sending me out after an incident where a fan tried following me to the hangar. Now at the time, this was before September 11th, you could drive onto military installations, but there were still certain areas restricted to only personnel. This fan attempted to breach the restricted area, then there were times the paparazzi photographed me in places that were confidential.”

“So we staged a break-up,” Y/n threw her hands up, letting out an irritated sigh. 25 years later and it still bothered her how invasive people could be. Especially with Pete, her man. Compromising his job, and potentially his life.

She’d raise hell. 

Shaking her head, the rockstar went on to say, “It worked, thankfully. Got the paps and weirdos---yes I am the type to call obsessive, stalking fans weirdos,” her eyes were fierce, staring into the soul of the camera. 

Well, the soul of the audience watching.

“There are lines, people. Boundaries. Ones that should be respected. Yes, I’m aware what it means to be a public figure and therefore my life is an open book half the damn time. But seriously, that doesn’t give permission to stalk the lives of my loved ones. Hell!” she slapped a hand on her thigh, “Even when we first started out….we were kids. We should not have had to constantly watch our backs for people who might want to harm us. Or scare us for that matter.” 

They continued discussing the subject for a brief period. Followed by the events leading to their engagement and marriage. The wedding had been the talk of the year when it was announced. Y/n wore custom Chanel, Pete in his Dress Whites. An intimate ceremony with their friends, family, Pete’s superiors, and few members of the music industry Y/n grew close to. Dolly Parton, Diana Ross, Stevie Nicks, Michael Jackson, and fellow Atlanta natives TLC among the guest list. 

“You two have been together 34 years--married for 22. Maya and Evan recently celebrated 37 years as a couple--tying the knot in 1994. Danny and his wife have been married since 2000 and Ronnie recently celebrated 20 years with her wife. Pun intended, but it appears all members of Y/n and The Romantics found the key to life-lasting romance.”

“We did, didn’t we?!” Y/n clapped her hands in glee, lightly bouncing on the couch from the excitement. “I had never thought of that before, oh my gosh, that’s amazing!” Mav laughed with her but then had to calm down Goose who got up from the sudden noise and started barking. Making Ice, who’d been laying on the couch, get off to leave the living room. “I should write a song about that,” the idea came to mind, Y/n straightening up with an expression indicating a light bulb went off. “Oh yeah,” humming, she fell back against the couch with a content exhale, “I know what our next album is going to be. And I promise to put you on the credits,” she ends with a point to the producer, who appreciated the gesture with a grin and thumbs up.

“Looking forward to it.” 

November 10th, 2024 -- The Chinese Theater in Hollywood, Los Angeles, California. 

A block away from their Star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, Y/n and The Romantics stood in front of the iconic Chinese Theater to the flashing cameras and screams of fans for the premiere of their documentary film, “Rock to Romance: The Story of Five Kids from Atlanta with A Dream of Rock n’ Roll.’ 

Already a success with the critics praising the direction, production, and the intimate, raw interviews of the band members, the documentary was a hit. The Atlanta premiere the week prior reserved for special guests and critics shot Y/n back in time to 1978. They were at Olympic Centennial Park, down the street from the intersection where it all started. Overcome with emotion, the frontwoman had to excuse herself from the red carpet early. Escaping to a bathroom where Ronnie and Maya found her, the trio embraced in a hug with no words needed to understand the message. 

They lived their dreams. They were icons of Rock and Roll.

Now at the Hollywood premiere, Y/n was more relaxed. At ease with the environment. Reporters of major news stations and entertainment media waited patiently for their turn at interviewing the band. Celebrities from every industry one could think of attended. Many of which were fans themselves and had the honor of calling Y/n and The Romantics their friend. Directors Baz Luhrmann and Greta Gerwig--both secretly competing to direct the group's biopic. Georgia natives that couldn’t make the Atlanta premiere: Usher, Walton Goggins, Dakota and Elle Fanning and Gladys Knight. Actors including Robert Downey Jr., Jack Black, Chris Tucker, Meryl Streep, and Michele Yeoh. Professional dancer Derek Hough, who’d been Ronnie’s partner on Dancing With The Stars. Supermodels of the 80s and 90s Cindy Crawford, Tyra Banks, and Iman. Then there were some athletes like Rafael Nadal, Carl Lewis, Michael Jordan, Venus and Serena Williams, and Mary Lou Retton. 

And of course, you can’t forget the rockstars. Members of Duran Duran, Cheap Trick, U2, Guns N’ Roses, Journey, Blondie and Def Leppard. Cyndi Lauper, Janet Jackson, Pat Benatar, Annie Lennox, Stevie Nicks, Joan Jett, and Pattie LaBelle. 

Fans lined the streets, screaming each time a car rolled up and finally exploded the moment all five members were together. 

Y/n stood in the middle, Maya and Ronnie on either side, Evan next to Maya and Danny beside Ronnie. The ladies appeared as walking Goddesses in custom Dior and the fellas stunning in Louis Vuitton. They posed for the array of paparazzi and fans. Doing their best not to squint as the ongoing flashing lights blinded them. Ronnie cracked jokes; Evan flirted with Maya to get her blushing. Danny, like always, gave his blue steel.

 And Y/n? She was just happy to be there. 

Searching the crowd for her husband and invited guests, the rockstar was relieved when they finished the red carpet portion of the event. Beelining to Maverick, accompanied by the group of dagger ducklings she loved dearly. “I’m so happy you guys made it!!” Embracing each one of them, Y/n moved to Pete’s side once placing a motherly kiss to Rooster’s cheek. 

“We wouldn’t have missed this for the world, Y/n,” Natasha told her, the guys echoing with approval. She was wearing vintage Oscar De La Renta. A gift from Y/n when she made Commander. “This is insane,” she awed, motioning to the scene around them. The carpet was still underway with stars, the countdown to the film minutes away. “And here I thought nothing would compete with the Hall of Fame induction.”

“Speak for yourself, Trace,” Jake, handsome as ever in his Tom Ford suit, spoke from behind. “I for one knew this premiere would have a larger turn out. I mean c’mon, it’s all everyone’s been talking about since March.” Rolling her eyes, Natasha turned back to Y/n, who was biting back a laugh at the two. 

Rooster, out of his typical Hawaiian shirt and instead nicely dressed in a custom Ralph Lauren tuxedo, stepped forward. “I guess I’ll be the first of these clowns to say, congratulations to you and the band, Y/n on this amazing film. It’s been an honor watching it unfold, and we’re excited for what comes next.”

“Aw, Bradley,” she holds back the tears this time to not mess up her makeup, but pulls him into another hug nonetheless. “Thank you. It means so much to us--and I’m so grateful to have you all here. To be part of this journey. Supporting me and Pete, the band and just everything.” 

“No tears,” Reuben, also wearing Ralph Lauren, playfully scolds. “Can't be messing up that pretty face when you have a speech to give in front of a theater full of Hollywood hot shots. Save that for the party.”

“Please,” she scoffs, returning the manner, “I’ll be too drunk to cry. I might be 60, but I can still hold my liquor.”

“Planet Enterprise, right?” A Gucci wearing Javy raises a brow, making finger guns. 

The rockstar winked, “You know it.”

Ten minutes after passing time with small talk, the group were ushered inside where Y/n quickly returned to her bandmates for the speeches and introductions of the doc. Managing to keep it together, Y/n thanked her family, friends, Pete, the crew and production company for dedicating the time and energy to making the documentary, and of course her best friends on stage. 

The four individuals who were the only ones on the planet to relate to everything Y/n experienced in the world of rock n roll. 50+ years of friendship. Seeing each other at their best and worst. Accomplishing milestones together. 

They were more than a band. They were a family.

Finally the lights turned off, the screen went white, and the reel began rolling. Opening with the image of Y/n on her living room couch. The image of a woman, who was once a young girl with dreams of playing her Fender Esquire on the stages of Madison Square Garden and the Staples Center. Possessing the voice of an angel who broke away from God to become a rockstar. 

“If you could travel back to 1978 and give your fourteen-year-old self advice for the road ahead, what would you tell her?”

“I’d tell her……don’t lose that dream, little one. You’ve got the journey of a lifetime waiting for you.” 

...............................................

TGM Tag List: @avaleineandafryingpan, @caitsymichelle13, @poppyalice2001, @cutelittlepotatofry, @luckyladycreator2, @americaarse , @elenavampire21, @back-tooo-black, @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris , @kmc1989

[battydora]

i am this close 👌🏻 to falling into a edgeshot brainrot if i already haven't fallen in it yet

[1-800-kami]

R U MINE? feat. gojo satoru

gojo satoru has got to be the picture definition of a stereotypical college frat boy. he’s cocky, loaded with his daddy’s money, and dangerously handsome. it seems like common sense to stay away from him since you’ll never get more than a one-night stand out of it. 

that’s why you choose to turn a blind eye once you’ve come to the horrific realization: you’re in love with him. and you’re just itching to ask…

“are you mine tomorrow? or just mine tonight?”

IMPORTANT: part two is out! read here :)

content: 8k words, afab!reader, angst! fluff! heartbreak! n everything in between! implied smut, rich college frat boy gojo and hellcat driver geto 🤑, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a toxic ex, trust issues (?) gojo is absolutely insufferable, misunderstandings, use of words hoe, slut, etc., mutual pining, some jjk character cameos (wink wink) me writing very unfunny dialogue, no bc wtf is this, cheating implications, emo gojo (the worst warning of them all)

author's note: hello hello! my name is kami, i've been reblogging fics on tumblr for a while now but i've recently figured out how to work this hellsite, so i'm going to start posting fics that i write! thank you to those who enjoyed my nanami drabble <3 kisses 4 u all.

this fic IS split into two parts and there is smut in the second part. so just. prepare yourselves for that ig.

reblog and interact for a kiss ;)

“so… let me get this straight.”

“go ahead.”

shoko takes a deep breath, and you just somehow know that she’s pinching her nose in exasperation right now. “utahime dragged you out to a party in hopes that you would hit it off with somebody. you wander off on your own and later, she sees you and gojo–THE gojo satoru–giving you his number?!”

“uh, yeah. that’s exactly what happened.”

“do you even understand what you’re getting yourself into?! that man bags hoes like they’re pokemon!” you readjust the phone against your ear and sigh at shoko’s comment. 

“okay, first of all, never say that again. second, i rejected all of his advances. i didn’t even save his number.” you stare at the crinkled-up note in your hands, which proudly displays his number and a slick call me if you change your mind ;). you wonder if you could sell this paper to his fangirls–you’d surely make a little bit of cash out of it. “i’ve seen gojo around. i know that i shouldn’t mess with him. plus, he was drunk as hell at the party; i doubt he even remembers my name. to him, i’m just some chick that he’s frustrated at because she didn’t want to fuck him the second she saw him.”

“do you… do you share any classes with him?”

“i don’t think i do.. just, don’t worry about it, okay? i’ll throw away his number and we can put all of this behind us. here, i’ll do it right now.” you rip up the paper into a few pieces before tossing it in the garbage can. hopefully, you did it loud enough that shoko heard it through the phone. “i get that you’re worried for me. and i appreciate that, but i can handle myself.”

“just… no more mention of gojo anymore, okay? you’re right, y/n. let’s just put this all behind us.” shoko sighs, and you smile at that. problem solved. you threw away his number, and he’s most likely moved on to the next girl by now, so that was that. now, you just have to forget about satoru gojo.

all to never let yourself get hurt ever again.

it’s hard to forget about gojo.

not because of those dangerous blue eyes of his–getting anyone lost in them if they stare for too long. not because of his stupid silvery white hair, which makes him look like a mop, and sometimes like a paintbrush. not that stupid cocky grin of his, either…

...but because you’ve recently found out that he sits next to you for physics.

the revelation was truly disheartening. you thought you could avoid him for the rest of the year because as far as you knew, you shared no classes with him. however, you completely forgot about the fact that gojo never attends class in the first place, and you don’t even know what classes he’s in… because he’s never there. so finding out that the seat next to you in physics wasn’t just an empty seat, and it was gojo’s assigned one, was truly an experience.

“gojo.” the name alone makes your heart stop, and you drop your pen to look at the man your teacher was addressing. “finally choosing to attend class for once?”

speak of the devil.

there he was, in all his glory–the man you’d never thought you had to deal with ever again. the man who tried to butter you up with his corny sweet talk so that you would go home with him for the night. the man who persisted with talking to you, even though you were barely interested. the man, who, at the end of the night, insisted on writing down his number for you in case you changed your mind about him and gave him a chance.

you wanted to shrink into your seat and never resurface. 

“good morning, yaga!” he says rather loudly, with no regard to honorifics at all. a few giggles could be heard across the classroom–though geto suguru’s voice was prominent–satoru’s equally as infamous bestfriend. “and yeah! it’s surprising, isn’t it?”

what’s also surprising is how gojo took a seat next to you. you thought that there was a mistake, that your teacher would scold him for sitting somewhere he isn’t supposed to sit and relocate him elsewhere. however, yaga just grumbles and begins the lesson, leaving you helpless and unable to look at the man next to you.

you swear he’s burning holes at the back of your head.

pleasdon’tremembermeisweartogodpleasedon’trememberme-

“you’re that girl from the party, right?” he whispers, and you’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your life. you slowly nod your head, turning to look at him, and he pouts. “y/n l/n. you never saved my number. hmph, i was looking forward to a text from you, too.”

“i’m surprised you even remember me, 'cause you were fucking wasted that night.” you twiddle your pencil, averting your gaze from the man. “and i never saved your number cause i threw the paper in the trash. it’s probably at a landfill somewhere, y’know.”

your words catch him off guard, and you laugh at how surprised satoru looks. it seems that’s definitely not an emotion he shows often. despite his initial reaction, satoru swears he could feel butterflies with the way your laugh sounds.

“not a common problem for a womanizer, huh?”

“what did you just call me?!-”

“y/n and gojo, do either of you have something to share with the class?” a dark blush of embarrassment covers your face, and somewhere in the back, you could hear geto snickering. gojo just smirks at yaga, seeming completely uanffected. “then i’d suggest you stay quiet the rest of this lesson. don’t make me separate you two.”

“i’d prefer that, actually…” gojo huffs at your comment, thinking of this as a lost opportunity if the two of you get separated. he does a once over at your appearance. you’re cute, but definitely not the party kind. you’re playing hard to get, and gojo finds it adorable–not a lot of girls go that way with him. however, gojo thinks you’re not just like any girl. there’s something different about you that intrigues him.

“did no one ever tell you that it’s rude to stare?”

“how could i not? you’re so cute.” 

“i thought you already learned from the party, gojo. i’m not interested in you.” 

the light blush coating your cheeks says otherwise. he smiles cheekily at the way you tried to hide your reaction to his words. you’re an enigma to gojo… and he’s drawn to you like a moth to a flame. he thinks he’s made his decision.

he’s gonna do whatever’s possible to get your number.

when the bell rings 30 minutes later, you shove your notebook into your bag, eager to finally leave the class that you had with that stupid paintbrush. that is, until he stops you with a question. “what class do you have next?”

he’s relentless. “why do you care?”

“i want to walk you to your next class,” he says, and smirks before saying his next words. “it doesn’t really matter if you tell me or not. i’ll just follow you anyways.”

you sigh, absolutely exasperated with him. he’s like a fly who keeps invading your personal space—always coming back no matter how many times you swat it away. he’s right, though. damn him for being stubborn. “i actually have this period free.”

“oh, sweet!” he chirps, walking with you out the door, making sure to greet geto before he leaves the classroom. “let’s go to the courtyard. i’ll buy you a drink from the vending machine-“

“i was gonna do that regardless if you were here or not.” you give him a look, and you can’t help but tug on your sleeves when you see people whisper to each other as you walk the halls with gojo. of course you’ve heard the rumors. the man next to you is the most popular guy on campus. girls glare daggers at you and the guys call his name, although he barely even acknowledges them. 

some common things that you’ve heard about gojo around the school are: “i heard he only talks to girls for sex,” “apparently his best friend geto is just as much of a player!” “i mean, who wouldn’t fuck a guy like gojo, though? he’s hot and loaded.” “that’s how he reels you in, though. he gets his hand in your pants and never calls you back again.” you know you should stay away from him, it’s common sense, but it’s hard to stay away from him when he’s the one who glues himself to your side. 

“well, now you’ll get a free drink and we’ll get to know each other! isn’t that great?” he smiles and you just grimace at his words. 

“i don’t need your money…”

“don’t care! can’t hear you!” he says, and you’ve seriously considered just making a run for it. at least you’ll lose him, and you’d finally be able to find peace for a bit. although, it would cause a scene, and gojo would probably end up finding you again somehow. 

“what can i do to get you to leave me alone?”

that piques his interest, even though he looks slightly hurt by your question. he thinks for a bit, and smirks. “i really do want to buy you something from the vending machine.. and i want you to spend your free period with me. i’ll leave you alone for the rest of the day if you do.”

“do you promise? like, actually?”

“mhm! pinky promise!” you feel like you’re talking to a prepubescent boy.

“then sure-“ you’re about to agree, but he cuts you off with one more condition.

“i also want your number.”

you feel like you’ve been cursed by a god, because having the most popular guy on campus be interested in you has got to be the most chaotic thing to ever happen in your life.

“what do you have me saved as?” 

the question comes from out of the blue, and you look up from the book you were completely absorbed in. you and satoru were at the school library, on a “study date” as he calls it, although it was more so just gojo inviting himself to wherever place you go, as per usual. this time, you have an exam to study for, and you explicitly told him not to bother you unless absolutely necessary.

you do have to say, though, he’s not annoying as you thought he was. he just nagged you way more the first day he sat next to you in physics so he could get your number. it’s been a few days since then, but still, you’d definitely be more efficient in your studies if you didn’t have him attached to your hip all the time.

“satoru, i told you not to bother me-“

“unless absolutely necessary. yeah, i heard you, and this question needs an absolutely necessary answer! contact names really say a lot about our relationship, y’know.”

“relationship? nobody ever said we were even friends-“

“don’t break my heart like that, babe. plus, you don’t call me gojo anymore! it’s satoru to you now,” his heart warms at that realization, and you scoff, especially at the pet name. “we are friends, unless you’d like to be something more...”

“if you say anything else i’m calling you by your government name. gojo satoru.” he looks especially wounded by that.

“ah! don’t do that, please. it feels like we’re a married couple and you’re really mad at me.” he cries and you can’t help but giggle at his words. you decide to entertain him a little bit, fishing through your pocket to find your phone. 

he almost passes out at what he sees on your screen.

“it’s just my number? you didn’t even save my contact?!-“

the shushes from your fellow students and the librarians aren’t even enough to calm gojo’s agony and despair. it also does nothing to stop your laughter, either.

from that day on, gojo’s contact was forcefully changed from his number to “satoru” (he initially added a heart, but you deleted it, much to his disappointment) and one of his many selfies from his stupid instagram account. how the hell can a college student even have thousands of followers?! you think. 

gojo just says that nobody can resist his shirtless post-workout selfies. you’re surprised that you didn’t slap him at his words.

you push him away.

everytime gojo buys your favorite drink, (it’s always on him, despite your genuine insistence in saying that you could pay for your drink just fine.) everytime he walks you to all of your classes each day, (he memorized your schedule just so he could do this) everytime he buys you your favorite foods on the rare instances that you let him take you out for lunch, (usually, this requires a lot of begging, and you mostly relent during class when you’re just exasperated and wanted to get some notes down.), and everytime he calls you by those stupid pet names of his, you think back to what the entire student body says about him, and you think back to your phone call with shoko, where she warns you to not associate with him so you don’t get hurt by anyone ever again, and you push him away.

you push him away even when you realize that if he just wanted you for sex, he would’ve stopped chasing after you when you didn’t text him after that night at the party.

and that thought alone scares you.

still, you’re not heartless. satoru’s been asking to take you out for a while, and you finally agreed to go today. he’s especially chipper about your agreement right now, walking with a slight pep in his step as he bit around his ice cream cone. 

the park boasts some beautiful scenery today, and little children are out and about. still, you underestimated the weather, and the cold uncomfortably nipped your arms as you internally cursed yourself out for wearing just a shirt. you crossed your arms as a subtle way to shield yourself from the cold.

“don’t play coy with me, y/n. are you cold?” satoru says with a cocky grin, and you huff at his question. surprisingly, he drops the teasing act and unzips his sweater, handing it to you. “here, take it.”

“satoru-“

“i’m not doing this to flirt or whatever you’re thinking right now. you’re shivering, and i’m just concerned for you, so please wear it.” he deadpans, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him be so… upfront? you kind of like it. it’s not him teasing you or him being flirty. it’s just him showing that he genuinely cares for you as a friend. you take the sweater with a nod and put it on, ignoring how your heart is thumping as you take in his signature smell. cedarwood with a little bit of musk. it’s not an overpowering scent, but it still envelopes your senses.

“nevermind. you look so cute with my hoodie on. i feel like we’re in a j-drama right now, y/n!”

you take back everything you just said.

a few minutes later, you two are near the kids playground when you decide to take a break from walking, sitting on a nearby bench with gojo. the chirping of the birds and the wind passing through the trees is quickly overpowered by loud crying. crying from the child right in front of you, in fact.

you’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but satoru beats you to it. he kneels in front of the kid, and coos, “hey, buddy. what’s your name, hm?”

he stops crying for a moment to look at gojo and shakily responds, “gumi-um, megumi fushiguro..” 

“megumi, huh.” he clicks his tongue for a moment. “why are you crying, megumi?”

“i-i don’t know where my dad is!” he cries, and satoru looks to you for help. you just shrug, unsure of what to do with the lost kid, until gojo’s face lights up, assumingly with a great idea.

“he’s most likely just around here somewhere. you can wait with us, and we’ll help you find him! say, do you want an ice cream to help you feel better, megumi?” the boy hesitantly nods, and satoru gives him a thumbs up as he takes him to the nearby ice cream stand. you’re watching this entire scene unfold, absolutely enamored with gojo for the first time. you didn’t think he had a natural talent with kids—but the way he’s making megumi laugh while he happily snacks on his ice cream says otherwise. an outsider could look at you three and assume that you’re just a happy family. 

you try to ignore how that makes you feel.

and as you wave goodbye to megumi once he eventually is reunited with his father again, (an intimidating man who gave you two an appreciative nod as he walked away with his son.) you realize something as you tug on the sleeves of your-satoru’s sweater. 

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

and fuck, that revelation scares you more than anything. the last time you had given your heart to a man, he had crushed it repeatedly until you decided that you would never let yourself be vulnerable like that ever again. 

and now, you're in love with your school’s notorious playboy—and it feels like you’re setting yourself up to be heartbroken again. you want disregard those rumors and shoko’s words so badly, but they still eat at the back of your mind even though the real gojo satoru is right in front of you, and he doesn’t match the characteristics of the gojo satoru in those rumors at all.

you also remember that he has one real best friend, geto suguru. you like to think that this is also what geto sees in gojo. the reason why he’s stuck around.

the reason why you want to stick around too.

you’re so busy in your head that you’ve just noticed gojo frantically waving his hand in your face. “earth to y/n? oh, good! i thought you had, like, a shock reaction from seeing megumi’s father. he looked a little scary, no?” 

“he looks like if a muscle came to life and started talking.” you whisper, and he laughs in agreement. burying your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, you smile. you don’t want to think about your current revelation with gojo right now. instead, you’ll stick with the present. and right now, you like the present.

you just don’t want to think about what this means for your future.

it’s the weekend, and you’re doing some work at the local cafe, gojo-free for once. only god knows what the man is doing at three pm in the afternoon on a saturday. not like you should be thinking about him right now, though. his presence alone has caused you to be behind on your studies, and you need to make sure you catch up.

you have to admit, you were a little unused to the silence. usually, the silence would be filled with gojo’s endless banter with you, as well as his terrible, corny jokes that are so stupid you can’t help but laugh. his seemingly never-ending presence was annoying at first, but now, you’re starting to yearn for his company.

it further fuels the pit of uncertainty in your stomach, and you hate it.

shaking your head with a sigh, you take another bite of your pastry and continue typing up the report on your laptop. the looming thought of this report’s impact on your grade and the need to pass this class helps you forget about satoru for a while. once again, you get lost in your academics.

the ring of the cafe bell breaks you from your trance. it was a natural impulse of yours to glance at everyone who entered the cafe, but once you did this time, you felt your heart drop down to your knees.

it was your ex. 

your ex boyfriend who destroyed the notion of love for you, because he made you feel it for a short time, only to throw it all into a pit of fire and leave you scrambling to find nothing but ashes. 

if you had to find the true roots as to why you’re so afraid to pursue a new relationship–you always find your ex in the center of it. and now, he’s right in front of you. you have to face him again when you refuse to shamefully admit that you’ve barely even healed from the emotional scars that he’d left behind. 

you feel as if an invisible hand has wrapped itself around your throat, blocking your airways and your ability to speak.

out of all the days satoru wasn’t here with you, it had to be this one.

“y/n? is that you, sweetheart?” you wanted to vomit at the way he said your name. he had no right to say it so sweetly, when all he’s ever left behind is venom. 

“i don’t want to talk to you.” you cringe at the way your voice cracks, and you avert your gaze from him.

“please, just hear me out for a minute, baby..” he coos, and you hate the way he talks to you as if you were a child. “i know i fucked up, and i can’t change our past… but i can change our future together. if you take me back, i’ll show you how much i’ve changed-”

you don’t know how many times you’ve heard that stupid line before.

“god, you sound like a broken record with how many times you’ve pulled that bullshit on me.” you spat, loud enough to draw commotion in the cafe. your ex has surprise written all over his face–most likely due to your non-compliance to his words. “what, do you say that shit to all your hoes?”

your ex looks around, shrinking a little when he sees all eyes are on him. “now, now, y/n, no need to be like that-”

“be like that… be like that?! you’re telling me to be civil when you’re the one coming in here wanting me back, spouting some bullshit saying that you’ve changed, when i told you to leave me alone already!” you scream, and you could feel the tears bubble up in your eyes. you look down, so you aren’t able to see how everyone’s staring at you with pity. god, you hate pity. it makes you feel weak and vulnerable. the two emotions you absolutely loathe. “i just want you to leave me alone, god. i hate you, why won’t you just-”

“you fucking bitch-” he makes a move to lunge at you, and you instinctively take a step back, pure fear enveloping your senses.

you never feel the impact, though, as you see your ex being restrained by the cafe worker.

you remember him. the man who took your order earlier. he was an older man with a warm smile on his face, although you noticed how his cheekbones were slightly sunken, and he looked a little overworked. you jokingly quipped earlier that he should get some sleep before thanking him for making your order. he just replied, i get that quite a lot.

the size difference between your ex and the man is enough to discourage him from fighting back. he makes quick work your ex, dragging him out the door while he hysterically screams profanities to you on the way out. you assumed the worker threatened to call the police, because your ex scrambled up from the ground and ran away. you hoped this was the last time you would ever see him again.

“are you okay, ma’am? he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

you didn’t even realize that the worker was back inside the cafe. everyone was gradually returning to their own businesses, with the eerie silence being replaced by casual chatter once more. you also didn’t realize how much your hands were shaking, and you huff out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “y-yeah, i’m alright, and he didn’t hit me. i just… need a minute,”

you decide that you aren’t gonna get anymore work done like this, so you pack your laptop into your bag and slump onto the seat with a sigh. you bury your face into your hands. “is it a long story?”

“oh, don’t even get me started.”

he laughs at that, and you ease up a little. “i told him i’d call the police if i ever see him around here again.”

“that’s good to hear. though i’d prefer if i never see him in my life ever again.”

he hums at your words, and he turns to look out the window. “it’s getting dark out. do you want me to call you a cab?”

“no need, i’ll call my boyf–my friend. i’ll call my friend. he’ll uh, pick me up.” you’re still so shaken up you barely even register what you said to him. your eyes are frantic as you turn your phone on and look for gojo’s name in your contacts. you don’t know why you want him to pick you up out of everybody. you could ask utahime or shoko right now, but you just wanted nothing more but to see gojo.

the bell rings again, and you flinch at the sound. thankfully, it was just another customer. the worker sighs. “well, these orders aren’t going to be done themselves. just wave me over if there are any other problems, okay?” 

you nod absentmindedly, and he turns to leave, but you stop him. “wait, sir, what’s your name?”

“kento nanami.”

“thank you so much, nanami. i appreciate it.” 

“i’m just doing my job.”

“your job is restraining crazy exes of college girls and kicking them out?”

“‘it comes with the job description.” he teases, and you laugh lightheartedly. “and your name is?”

“y/n l/n.”

“anytime, miss l/n. again, just please… call me over if anything happens.”

“will do…” you say, pressing the “call” button on gojo’s contact. the anxiety is hitting you again, and you take a shaky inhale. you’re surprised at how he picks up almost instantly. “hey… satoru? yeah, can you come pick me up, please? i know i don’t normally ask you to do something like this but-”

“did something happen?”

“a lot happened, actually… i’ll text you the address. please, just come soon.”

“of course, y/n.” you could already hear him running out the door, hearing the roar of his car engine coming to life. “i’ll be there as soon as possible.”

he gets to the cafe in five.

you wave goodbye to nanami, thanking him once more as you get in the passenger seat of gojo’s car. 

it’s not your first time inside here, but you still can’t help but admire how… expensive everything looks. or maybe you’re just looking around because you’re stalling, and you have no idea where to begin with satoru. 

however, you notice that he’s not asking you what happened, and he’s not forcing you to explain anything to him. instead, he switches the gear shift out of parking and says, “do you want me to take you home?”

your eyes widen at his words, and you shake your head no profusely. the last thing you want to be is home alone right now, mainly because your ex knows where you live. you know he most likely won’t go that far with you, especially since nanami knocked some sense into him… but the possibilities still scare you. you take a deep breath before saying your next words.

“...can you take me to your house? i-i’m sorry for asking, i just don’t want to be alone right now cause i’m terrified and-” 

“y-yeah. i’ll take you to my house.” he says, and you’ve never seen him so nervous in your life. it almost makes you laugh.

“i’ll explain everything later. i just… wanna be somewhere safe first.” somewhere safe. you find his house as a safe place. gojo doesn’t know how to react. his heart is thumping wildly out of his chest, but he makes sure to put your own comfort before his feelings.

“you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” he says, maintaining his cool by keeping his eyes on the road, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear shift.

“but i want to, satoru…” you say. you can’t believe you’re doing this again. you’re crossing so many territories that you were so afraid to cross because of your ex. now, you think you aren’t that afraid anymore. not if you have satoru by your side. 

you place one of your cold hands on the gear stick, interlocking it with his. is he… shaking? “thank you for this.”

still. there are so many things you can’t say to him yet. you don’t know when you’ll be able to… or if you’ll ever be able to.

i love you. i love you but i’m too afraid to say it. i just hope that you’ll be able to wait for me.

“god, you’re killin’ me here, y/n.” 

that pit of uncertainty in your stomach has grown so large you feel it's about to consume you whole. you don’t think you mind much, though.

the two of you are lounging at his couch after satoru insisted on telling you to make yourself at home. there’s a movie playing, with neither of you paying attention at all, takeout on the coffee table, two glasses and a bottle of wine after gojo didn’t know what drinks to serve, and freaked out by pulling the first expensive drink out from his parents’ alcohol closet. has he never properly invited someone to his home before?

“so in short, you had a crazy ex who saw you at the coffee shop… and he was begging for you to take him back, and when you went off on him he called you a bitch and tried to hit you…” he recalls, a huge grimace on his face. “tch. the cafe worker shouldn’t have let him go like that.”

“i’m sure he learned not to mess with me after getting humiliated in public.. and nanami did more than enough for me.” you retorted, and he gave you a sour look. 

“oh, so you know the worker’s name now?” he says, and you could feel the tension build up in the air. oh. so he wants to do this with you? “what, is he your knight in shining armor?”

“he looks like he’s in his late thirties, satoru. i’m not into older guys,” you roll your eyes at his absurd questions and add, “what’s it to you anyway?”

“what’s it to me, y/n?” he repeats your words, and you could feel an argument coming, like you already didn’t have an exhaustive one with your ex. “you know how i feel about you-“

“what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” your voice is getting louder, all to hide your fear behind the implication of his words. you distance yourself from him on the couch.. much like how you distance yourself from letting satoru get too close to how you truly feel. “we’re not even together, satoru. you don’t get to control the guys that i talk to- hell, have you even seen yourself?”

you’re rambling, and all you want to do is shut up, but you can’t bring yourself to. “i’ve heard what our school says about you. y-you’re a playboy, right? and you only ever talk to girls because you wanna fuck them. i’m not stupid, satoru. i’m not different from any of them, right? you only chase after me because i’m playing hard to get and that pisses you off-“

“what… what are you even saying, y/n?” he asks, and it stops your rambling for a moment. you don’t know what you’re saying. you’re pouring out all the reasons why you’ve tried to push him away, the reasons why you were so afraid to give your heart to him. but now that you say them out loud, they sound outright stupid. 

“i started coming to class just to talk to you, i memorized your schedule just so i can walk you to class every morning. i buy you all your favorite food and drinks… i had to memorize your favorites too, by the way. and i have shit memory.” he’s screaming at this point, and you’ve never had satoru scream at you. there are unshed tears in his eyes, and it’s all overwhelming to watch this unfold. “and when you called me, i drove as fast as i could to you because you never call like that and i was fuckin’ worried!”

“so let me ask you a question, y/n… would i do all these things for you just because i want you in my bed?! i’d do anything for you, and you know that!” he’s crying. the gojo satoru is crying, and it’s all for a girl. if you told this to someone in your school, they’d call you a shit-faced liar. gojo satoru doesn’t cry for a girl. he makes them cry.

“i’m sorry for being skeptical, satoru! i just can’t help it when there’s so many rumors about you wanting to fuck girls just for the shit of it – and i’m conflicted on whether or not i should believe them because i want you so bad and i’m scared you’ll end up just breaking my heart and i don’t want that to happen again-”

he cuts you off. “you… what?”

you’re confused at why he looks so surprised, but then you backtrack on your words and you gasp. fuck. why did i say that? you cover your mouth and look away from him, refusing to meet his eyes.

those stupid blue eyes that you know you can’t get enough of.

“y/n… can you please say that again? i don’t want to do anything if i didn’t hear you right.” his voice is soft now, and you swear that you’re dreaming. this isn’t real. right? i’m gonna wake up soon. you dig your nails into the palms of your hands, leaving half-moon marks in their wake. it doesn’t work, and you don’t wake up, and you know you have to accept the fact that this is very real and it’s happening.

this is the worst leap of faith you think you’ve ever had to take in your life.

“i want you so fucking bad, satoru. and i’m realizing that you’re not just the stereotypical rich playboy that everyone talks about on campus—you’re a really great guy, and i guess i’m just scared to face that-” you don’t even realize that satoru’s got you cornered on the couch, and you can’t finish your words as he slots his lips against yours. hard. it’s the most passionate kiss you think you’ve ever had in your life, and it’s got your breath taken away in seconds. holy shit.

you quietly moan against his lips as you kiss back, cupping his face with your hands and wiping his tears away. you wish this moment would last forever, but you pull away so you can breathe. you meet gojo’s eyes, and they’re clouded with lust and desire, but you could tell he’s still a little uncertain. “we’ll talk later… just take me to the bedroom already,”

gojo doesn’t need another confirmation from you, and he lifts you up to carry you to his bedroom, practically tripping on his feet the way there.

a few hours later and a noise complaint from the neighbors, it’s safe to say that gojo satoru was the best one you’ve ever had.

“god, i’m never letting you go, baby.”

he’s tracing hearts onto your bare back. it’s littered with bruises and red scratch marks just from a few minutes ago, but you’ve never felt better in your life. you stare at the man who invited himself into your life just from an encounter at a party, and you thank your lucky stars that you agreed to go with utahime that night. “is something wrong? you’re starin’ again.”

“i’m sorry it took me so long to trust you. i’ve just been scared to open up my heart again, especially after him.” you don’t have to name “him” for satoru to understand. 

“i’m sorry too. i just got angry about the rumors and i also disregarded the fact that you’re scared to love again after your ex did all of that shit and-” he pauses, and sighs. “sorry. i’m rambling again.” 

he pulls you into another kiss, and this time, it’s sweeter, lighter, and full of love. “i’m going to show you what it looks like to really be loved, because it’s definitely not the shitty picture that your ex painted in your head. there’s way more to it than that.”

“i love you, y/n.”

“thank you, toru.” you whisper. maybe, one day, you’ll be able to find the courage to say it back. and it’s okay, because gojo is willing to wait an eternity for you. 

he’ll wait an eternity for you to teach you how to love again.

“look at how beautiful you are…” gojo says, appearing out of nowhere as he wraps an arm around your waist. you yelp, staring at your boyfriend through the mirror. he’s wearing a classic black tuxedo, with no doubt it being very expensive. it compliments the glimmering rolex on his wrist, and the thoughts running through your head about him and his outfit sets fire to your stomach.

“look at yourself first, toru… god, we should just stay home,” you tease, turning around to pull him into a deep kiss. it’s a friday, and gojo’s taking you out to attend geto’s party tonight. the two of you are going for several reasons. he wants to introduce you to his bestfriend, since you realized that you’ve never actually formally met geto before. it’ll also be your first formal “couple appearance”, as if gojo being attached to your side all the time doesn’t say enough about the two of you already. 

gojo pulls away, which surprises you. you pout at the expression on his face. “as much as i want to, suguru’s been bugging about you all week. i really do think it’s time for you to meet him,”

“hmph. alright.” 

“i’m tearing that dress off of you the second we get home, though.”

“satoru!”

“what?! not my fault my girl looks so damn hot all the time!”

this night is going amazing.

when satoru walks with you through the front doors, arm wrapped around your waist and the dress you picked out for tonight glimmering, you feel a little shy. the guys all whistle at the two of you, and the girls whisper amongst each other, but you and gojo don’t care. in his eyes, you’re the only girl he sees. the only girl worth being with here. 

“wanna go get drinks?” he asks you, cerulean eyes showing underneath his sunglasses. you nod, walking to the kitchen with him. you’re getting severe deja vu… you can’t believe you met gojo at the last party you were at. and now you’re at another party, with gojo as your date. you scan the crowd for utahime or shoko, wondering what you would say to them if they saw you with the man they specifically told you not to mess with.

it’s alright, though. shoko was wrong about those rumors, and gojo’s proving it to you.

“satoru!” the playful voice greets your boyfriend, and you turn to see geto suguru. you’ve seen him around campus, and he sits somewhere in the back of your chem class. you haven’t really had the opportunity to talk to him, though… and he looks a little intimidating.

“you must be y/n,” he says, offering you a freshly opened smirnoff from the drinks on the countertop. you thank him and grab the drink, taking a swig.

“yup! my lovely girlfriend,” gojo lets go of his arm around your waist to grab a drink. 

“you probably don’t know this, but i’ve been his wingman.” he smiles at gojo, who’s pouting, like he’s preparing himself for what suguru is about to say. “he’s batshit crazy for you, its insane.”

“oh? do tell.”

“when the two of you got together, he left me a voicemail at like… four in the morning? anyway, he was screaming about how he was the happiest guy in the world… or something.”

“that’s because i was!” you’re laughing at how unashamed satoru is about this.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” geto clicks his tongue, pulling out his phone. “and he’s reposted you on insta to like, every drake song-”

“alright, me and y/n are gonna go dance.” he interrupts suguru, and drags you away from his best friend with a yelp. “nice talkin’ to you, suguru!”

“hey, i wanted to know more!-”

“shh, you don’t need to know about all of that.” the two of you are in the living room, in the midst of all the bodies dancing and grinding against each other. he pulls you close to him, and you feel his hot breath against your neck. “you look so beautiful tonight, y/n.”

“same for you, handsome. let’s dance, shall we?” you wrap your arms around him and just sway to the beat. you’ve never been much of a dancer, but everything feels natural as long as gojo’s with you. 

suddenly, the music changes, and one dance starts playing. you two look at each other, and you both burst out laughing at the same time. “have you reposted me to this song?”

“duh. it’s a classic.”

“can’t disagree with that.” you say, finding yourself grinding against satoru while wizkid’s part plays in the background. it feels like such a perfect night–you’re pulling satoru into a deep kiss, and he shoves his tongue down your throat while he’s leading you to a nearby couch. you’re seated on his lap, mimicking practically every couple in this party tonight. 

suddenly, you pull away, and you whisper, “i need to use the bathroom.” 

satoru smirks at your words, thinking that it’s a hint for something else, and you give him a sour face. “want me to join you-”

you hit his chest playfully. “that’s not code for anything, you perv. i actually need to piss.” 

he’s pouting at your words, but he lets you off his lap anyway, and holds your drink for the time being. “it’s at the second door in the hall to your right. be quick, please.”

“no duh. i’ve got a cute date to come back to,” you say, walking away and traversing all of the bodies that smell like sweat and alcohol. you’re a little unused to this environment, but it’s alright. you fix up your makeup in the bathroom and freshen up a little, walking back to the living room to find satoru again. 

you wish you never did.

you were gone for four minutes. five minutes max. you come back to satoru, and your breath hitches at the sight.

on his lap was a random chick that looked like every other girl at this party. she was practically naked, since her outfit didn’t do much to cover her skin at all.

fuck.

you remember the first time you saw gojo at the last party you went to. the sight wasn’t that different compared to the one now. there were girls all over him, all fighting for his attention. and yet, it seemed that night, his attention was focused solely on you.

what bullshit that was.

your eyes are blurry, and the music is muffled in your ears. white noise fills your senses, and all you want to do right now is run.

so you do.

you run, not caring if gojo saw you at all or not. you run out of the party, eternally grateful that you didn’t pick out heels for tonight and settled for much simpler shoes. you run, despite the fact that you drew geto’s attention. you were already out the door before he could ask what was wrong. you run, just wanting to get away from everyone and everything. you run with no particular destination in mind. you stop running when you almost get run over on a red light, the car honking at you–screaming profanities as it drives by. it breaks you from your trance, and you sit on the curb of the sidewalk, letting all of your tears out on what was supposed to be a perfect night.

of course gojo didn’t think that you were different. you were just like every other girl to him.

stupid. stupid. stupid. you’ve never felt so stupid in your life.

when geto sees you running out the door with unshed tears in your eyes, he immediately panics. what the hell happened?

he goes through every room of the house, trying to find gojo, when he hears a bunch of commotion in the living room. he runs there, pushing past everyone, only to find a total disaster inside.

he sees gojo screaming at a girl dressed like a stripper, who was on the ground with tears in her eyes. satoru looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel with how pissed he looks. there’s a crowd forming at this point, and geto knows he needs to intervene, so he drags his bestfriend away, who looks so distraught that geto could just wonder what the fuck happened.

they’re outside now, and its significantly a lot more quiet out here compared to all of the chaos inside. all the noise is coming from gojo—who won’t stop crying, and geto has no idea what to do or where to even begin. “fuck!”

“dude, what the fuck happened!?” satoru looks like he’s feeling every emotion at once. he looks pissed, pissed enough to punch a wall, and geto’s a little afraid that gojo might actually do that–or worst-case scenario, punch him. he’s crying, and geto hasn’t seen gojo cry ever since he fell off a swing in pre-k, so what happened must be really fucking serious.

“i don’t KNOW what happened, goddamnit! y/n went to use the bathroom and some slu- some girl came up to me and threw herself on my fucking lap! i was gonna tell her to fuck off but y/n saw before i was able to and now she’s gone and she probably thinks that i’m just some cheater when i’ve worked so hard to get her to trust me and-FUCK!”

he stops, trying to calm down a little, and gojo takes the shakiest breath he thinks he’s ever taken in his life. the red in his vision starts to fade, but he still feels helpless. “i just don’t know what to fucking do, suguru.” 

“i just saw y/n run out of my house a few minutes ago.” he says with a grimace, and he’s trying to figure out what to tell his bestfriend. “i’ve never seen you like this over a girl before. holy shit, you really love her, do you?”

geto thinks that gojo’s bloodshot eyes, the brutal names that he called that girl at the party, and the tears he’s shed for you are already an answer.

“this is your last chance to prove it to her, satoru.” geto fumbles through his pockets and hands him the keys to his challenger. gojo snatches them, hearing the car engine rumbling itself to life. the white-haired man thanks his best friend as he steps into the drivers’ side, with geto reassuring him, ‘ill deal with the chaos inside, you go ahead and explain yourself to your girlfriend’.

gojo swears that he’s never driven so fast in his whole life.

part 2 :)

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Neil talking about the responses to Good Omens Season 2 - from the Neil Gaiman interview with Brian Levine for The Gould Standard (x,x)

BL: The audience that you have built is a very passionately engaged audience. They, frankly, they love you. And one of the reasons they love you is that you fit into what I think of as one of two great divisions in art. There's, or in writing, um, there is: I'm entertained, I'm amused. I may be even enchanted; and then there's this hits me at a visceral level. You understand me as no one else does. You have touched something very central to my experience. And it seems to me that Much of your writing, maybe all of your writing, actually reaches your audience at that latter level. You know. I would say in the former category, sort of my quintessential and beloved example would be P. G. Woodhouse. He amuses me, but I don't feel like he's revealed my inner self at a very deep level. Um, were you aware that you were going to be able to achieve that? Um, that this is something... was it a startling thing when people began coming up to you, who'd read your work and said, this means so much to me?

Neil: Yeah. It was huge. And it wasn't expected. I... if I had a mountaintop I was heading towards, it was gonna be P. G. Woodhouse. Um, I wanted to be a proficient entertainer with a clear prose style who could tell stories. Um, it probably wasn't until Sandman that I found... I started to realize that in order for a story to work, I had to show too much. In order for a story to resonate, in order for a story to matter, I had to let it matter too much. And, and I remember the first people who would start coming up to me and saying, um, you, you know, your, your Sandman comics got me through the death of a loved one. Your death character got me through my child's death, through my parent's death, through my partner's death, through my friend's death. Um, and that left me kind of amazed. I'm like, well, I didn't write it to do that. I wrote it to feed my children. I wrote it to satisfy myself. I wrote it because nobody else had ever written it. And if I didn't write it, it wouldn't be written, but I don't think I wrote it to give you what you've taken from it. And I spent really about 20, 25 years feeling awkward about that. And then my father died, in March 2009, and never got to cry about it. Never... I, you know, I've, I've got on a plane and I went to the UK and dealt with the funeral stuff and organized all of that stuff and came back and go toff the plane and went and did Stephen Colbert's Colbert Report and wearing the funeral suit because and that was all I had with me and carried on. And then, somewhere in the middle of summer, I was reading a friend's script. They'd sent me a script and said, can you look this over? And I'm reading it, and on page 20, the lead character meets somebody, and on page 26 maybe, she's dead, and I burst into tears. And I'm bawling. I am sobbing. It is coming out of me in giant racking waves. And I realized that it's everything that I'd been, hadn't let myself feel, or hadn't been able, hadn't stopped enough to let myself feel, was suddenly being given permission to feel by the death of a fictional person who I'd met six pages earlier, ia script. And I thought that... and it was huge for me, and I thought, okay, that's that thing that people are talking about sometimes, when they come tome and they say, you, you did this. So right now, I'm in this weird, wonderful place where I think a lot of people in Good Omens Season 2 thought they were signing up for the P.G. Woodhouse, and didn't know that, no, no, no, you've, you've signed up for the whole thing. You've signed up for the feelings. You've signed up for the emotions. I... it is my job to make you care and to make you feel and to feel things you haven't felt before. And which meant that the first week or so after Good Omens came out, I was getting angry, furious, deeply upset messages on every possible social medium telling me that I had betrayed people, and it was awful, and they couldn't stop crying, and why would I do that to them, and did I hate them? And they hated me. And then a weird sort of phenomenon happened as people would watch the show again. And again. And now they started to know, okay, this is where it's gonna go, this is what's gonna happen, this is how it works. And they started realizing that they were actually feeling things, and that was good. And that they were caring about two people who don't exist. You know, I made them up, and then and Terry Pratchett made them up, and then, um, David Tennant and Michael Sheen gave them life, and then they get to walk around on a screen and you know they don't exist, but you can cry for them, you can love them, they can make you laugh, they can make you exult, and most important of all, they can make you care. And the number of people who are now writing to me, saying, 'This was so important to me. This has changed my life. This makes me feel like I belong. This makes me feel like I can cope. And it's let me sort of find myself. P. S. I hope you get to do Season Three.' is, is huge.

[ferrstappen]

Everybody wants a taste l LN4

a/n: i am in an urgent need of writing ideas I've had for MONTHS so brace yourselves I guess?? also the title ofc is from pop anthem jealous by nick Jonas.

i am also very very very stressed waiting for the standing start.

pairing: Lando Norris x actress!reader

this is angst. and some tom holland after this poll results <3

summary: Lando had never been the jealous kind, but after seeing you with many co-stars, he reaches his limit. and his girlfriend doesn't like it.

No one would ever know Lando Norris' was reaching his limit as he stood on the sidelines of another press junket for his girlfriend's new movie: a coming of age movie that already was creating awards season buzz, and God was he proud of her, having witnessed the ten minute standing ovation she received during Cannes.

But of course the limelight wasn't only on her. No, it was on him.

Lando remembers when he was asked who he'd want to portray him if they ever did a biopic and he didn't hesitate: Tom Holland. There could be some similarities between the two, both British, chestnut curls, but now Lando's skin crawled just from hearing the name.

He had dealt with different co-stars during the almost two years of relationship; he'd seen her kiss them, fight with them, fall in love with them, but this was different, he never had to witness her naked skin pressed against someone else, placing her body on top of his, pretended noises he knew weren't real and authentic, but still, they were supposed to be just for him. All for the sake of making a point of her character being an adult now, some shit about an epiphany of being able to take control of her own life, make decisions about her body, and whatever the screenwriters wanted to portray.

And of course Lando didn't help himself.

user1: God has favorites, just check y/n having fake sex w tom holland and real sex w lando norris

user2: no but y/n and tom??? such a hot couple I NEED it to happen

user3: and what are you gonna do with lando and zendaya? lol user2: idc I just want y/n and tom to be a thing

And that was just the beginning, before the movie had even dropped, because the day of the premiere? Everything went wrong.

Sunny Los Angeles had welcomed you and Lando after landing from London, paparazzi eagerly waiting for the arrival at LAX, catching the perfect pictures of Lando placing you in front of him, holding your hand tightly and doing his best to shield your body from prying eyes who just wanted a couple of dollars.

Despite being jet lagged after spending a couple of days in your home in Monaco, there wasn't much time to catch a break because the moment the two of you set foot on the Beverly Hills Hotel, they barely let you take a shower before giving some nice, fluffy robes. Lando was first, out of nowhere two people were working on his hair while the other was applying some kind of serums and creams on his face, but he didn't care when it was time for another team to start working on you; Lando was mesmerized by the way your hair perfectly framed your face, the natural glow of your skin, the deep red of your lips.

"I don't like being so separated," Lando pouted, walking towards your seat, earning a giggle from you because he looked so funny and cozy with the big robe.

"There's not much we can do, baby. I can barely move," You searched for his eyes and that was when Lando got the idea. The hair stylists gasped when the racer sat down on the floor, circling his arms around one of your legs and resting his cheek on your thigh. "Oh, you're willing to be told off by the make up artists as well?" You asked him but your insides were dancing all over the place, your fingers quickly finding their place on his curls.

Neither of you noticed a Vogue photographer capturing the scene, with Lando's eyes closed and cheek smushed, with his arms secured around your leg, but neither realized representatives for Armani had walked in carrying Lando's tux and your body-hugging black velvet gown.

So far so good. A picture perfect young couple who loved each other very much and had photographers swooning by the way Lando fixes your earring and checks for lipstick on your teeth, and how you make sure his bow tie is leveled.

But then, they get to the red carpet.

It was an elegant affair, but still full of people and before he realized, the red carpet manager was separating you from him for an alone photo call before the one and only Tom Holland got there, cheerfully greeting you in front of the cameras, throwing a couple of jokes to make you laugh as he placed his hand on your back.

This was a nightmare, having to listen to people say how cute the two of you looked, a perfect on and off screen pair, chemistry on and off the screen, both your names already on the shortlist for the Oscars.

Lando's skin was starting to crawl, and it didn't help that he had to re watch the scenes haunting his mind, but this time it was out for the entire world to see, and it didn't take long for his latest instagram post to be flooded of vile comments.

when are you getting replaced by tom holland??

now tom holland can play you in movie and y/n plays herself, nothing changes lmao

lando control ur woman!!!

lucky man, she sounds so pretty I almost had to leave the theatre

lando honey you can leave her I'd never do that to you

And Lando knows he shouldn't, but when your hand reaches for his when the night ends, he pretends to look for his phone; when you try to fix a messy curl, he moves his head out of your reach.

and you know your boyfriend too well.

"Baby, are you okay?" You ask him once you reach the shared hotel room.

Lando lets out a dry chuckle, but too aware of his throat closing. "Why wouldn't I be?"

But you weren't having it, not today, not on your big day, not when you just wanted rest your head on his chest and fall asleep with his arms wrapped around your frame.

"I don't know, you tell me, you're the one acting weird,"

"I am not," Lando argued, trying to take deeper breath, but failing miserably.

"Okay Lando, whatever, I don't care. You can be selfish during a very important day for me for all I care,"

Those words struck a nerve: "Me? Selfish? Are you fucking kidding me?" Now you could see his cheeks flushing, maybe even his neck gaining some red color.

You wanted to be scared, to walk away and let him cool off any unwanted feeling or thought on his head, but you couldn't.

"No, I'm not. Please illustrate me as to what happened to put you in this insufferable mood," You argued back and watched as Lando's mouth opened and closed as he undid the cuffs from his shirt, threw the suit jacket on the leather sofa and threw away the bow tie, all in just a couple of seconds.

"Am I not allowed to be upset to watch him all over you, having to look at the both of you acting like the best of friends or lovers for all I care, and then have to watch on this fucking enormous screen how you kiss him and touch him," Lando spat the words as if they were venom; he could feel his throat closing

Your eyes widened in disbelief, your brain not processing Lando's words. "Lando, you are not making any sense. Are you listening to yourself?" You were careful not to raise your voice, knowing he wasn't in a clear space of mind, but you blood was running hot too after processing what he was implying.

"Yes, I am. (Y/N), baby, I'm tired of having to watch you making out with a different guy every a couple of months, it is so tiring, and I understand that this is your job, but..." Lando was about to continue but was stopped by you, messily taking off the heavy velvet dress and heels, putting on the first pair of jeans and oversized sweater you found. "What are you doing?"

"I don't want to listen to you anymore. You are ridiculous, Lando. You're talking about my job, my career, that I've worked my ass off, and never in a million years I thought you'd be telling me this bullshit! I'm not going to entertain this, so if you can't deal with this anymore, please let me know so that I can move on," this time your throat tightened, the last words coming out broken and choked, emotions fighting to make their way; from anger to utter sadness.

"Where are you going?" Lando didn't know if he was angry with you, disappointed in himself, maybe a mix of both as he watched you grab the Chanel black backpack.

"I don't know, but let me know if you can do this or what,"

You were sure those were the last words of the unforeseen argument, but as you were grabbing the card key of the room, Lando opened his mouth.

"Maybe you can go with Tom, everyone wants you two together anyway."

Of course he needed to get the last words.

[nicka-nell]

omg ur taking requests!

can you do some angst to fluff with Atsumu, Iwaizumi, Suna, Kuroo, Ushijima, and Sakusa (I’m sorry if they’re too many you can choose whoever you want to write about from these characters, I luv all of them soooo much)

Can you make it like really really Angsty in the start. Like the characters doing something they’ll regret a lot and then they spend a lot of efforts making up for it? Please make it fluffy in the end, I can’t handle sad endings 😭

Also please don’t include anything with infidelity or mentions of it. My boyfriend of 3 years cheated on me last month and I’m having such a hard time.

Thank you for considering my request. And there’s no pressure to accept, I don’t mind at all.

Hi! yes I am taking requests right now. 😇 First of all, I'm so sorry that you had such a negative experience. But tbh, you're better off this way. Nobody needs such an ass cheating on them! 😔😤 My ex did that too, with my ex-best friend btw. I also had a hard time but quickly felt better because I realised that it's a waste of time to cry over such a dick. I hope you don't lose hope in a healthy relationship based on trust. There really are good people out there and I hope you find someone who can appreciate you. Sending you a lot of hugs and kisses. 🤗💚❤️‍🩹

And for your request. I've written three stories for Tsumu, Iwa and Suna. Unfortunately they got a bit tooo long for my taste, so I only made these 3. I hope that's okay. I really had problems making it super angsty (urg, I need more practice for angsty stuff 😵‍💫). As you wished, I didn't include anything with cheating (even though I had a few ideas haha.) and I also added a trigger warning before each story. I think Iwa's and Suna's in particular might be a bit darker... so you can decide on your own if you want to continue reading it or not. Anyway, I hope you still like it, and thanks for your request. Stay healthy! 🥰💚

Regretting their actions

Pairing: Atsumu x, Iwaizumi x, Suna x reader

Warning: angst to fluff, break-up (Atsumu, Suna), mention of abuse/anger issues, mention of blood (Iwaizumi), mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (Suna)

Part 1 | Part 2 (End)

tw: mention of break-up

You met Atsumu when he came to his brother’s onigiri store for the housewarming.

The two of you got along well quickly. And it wasn’t long before he kissed you at a party, looked at you with his cheeky grin and said, “Tastes better than a victory.”

More things happened that night. Not just simple kisses and when you woke up next to him in bed, he asked you, still sleepy: “You’re my girlfriend now, aren’t you?”

You’ve been together for several years now and were thinking about moving in together soon when Atsumu’s career suddenly took off. He was traveling abroad more often and had less time for you or looking for an apartment.

And then it happened…

You scroll through the apartment search app for something suitable for the two of you, lying on the bed while missing him terribly. You close the app to go to your messenger, only to realize that you were the one who last texted Atsumu... two days ago… Two blue check marks indicate that he has read your messages but has not replied. Your fingers hover over the keypad of your phone and you think about writing to him. Maybe he read your message during training and didn’t have time to reply. Maybe he just forgot about it afterwards... maybe...

“Hey Tsumu... I know you’re busy but, I hope you’re doing well. Love you.” you type into your phone and send the message with a strange feeling in your stomach. It doesn’t take long before you see under his name that he is online. The gray check marks next to your message turn blue, but instead of replying, you see that he went offline again. You swallow a big lump down your throat, your heart feels heavy. Maybe he can’t answer you right now... you try to convince yourself again.

Several hours pass as you sink your head into your pillow and try to stifle your tears. Atsumu’s sports t-shirt is in your arms, which he had given you before his trip abroad. Time passes and suddenly you hear the ringtone of your phone as a message arrives. Your heart hits loud against your chest as you reach for your phone and see your boyfriend’s name. But your joy quickly disappears, the lump in your throat gets bigger and you can’t breathe. 

>> Hey... listen, I think it’s better if we end the relationship… break up. I don’t know, but I just don’t have time for it. I’ll see you around. <<

It feels like a slap in the face. As if this is a poor joke. You want to write to him, ask him what this is all about, but your tears blur your vision. The only thing you send is a “really?” but the message is no longer read. It remains on one gray check mark.

Two days go by and you still think it was all a bad joke, but every time you read his message, you feel like throwing up. Has he really dumped the whole relationship? By a shitty text message? You open your Instagram account and enter his name almost as if on autopilot.

Another slap in the face as your tears run down your cheeks again. His bio no longer says “Best setter and proud boyfriend” but simply “Setter MSBY Black Jackal”. All the pictures he had with you on his account have been deleted. Instead, you can only see advertising photos or private photos of him. The last eight pictures are of him, Hinata and Bokuto dancing and having fun with fans in different bars. Atsumu grins at the camera as if he doesn’t care about you at all. As if your relationship meant nothing to him.

You text him some more times, leave him voicemails because he never answers your calls. But after a few days, you let it go. It only frustrates you even more to see how little this relationship actually meant to him. For days, you cry yourself to sleep, what doesn’t go unnoticed by Osamu. After all, he sees you three times a week when you help him out in his store. When you tell him what has happened, he is also speechless, because Atsumu has really pissed him off with all his raving about you. So why would he break-up with you out of the blue? Osamu can’t see you as devastated as a heap of misery. So he also tries to find out the reason for the break-up between you and his silly brother. But when he calls him, Atsumu only faces him coldly on the phone. “Did she tell you to ask me? Leave it okay? I think I just realized that I don’t want a relationship.”

Two months go by and somehow you still can’t believe that your relationship just fell apart. Osamu tries to distract you somehow, but it doesn’t help because he reminds you too much of your idiot ex-boyfriend.

Nevertheless, you are grateful to Osamu for swapping your shift with his coworker’s shift so that you can open the store with him in the morning. That way, you avoid running into Atsumu, who is more likely to be in the restaurant in the evening as soon as he returns from his stay abroad. You’re not ready to face him at the moment.

Just as you’re about to finish work, you remember that you wanted to show Osamu a video on your phone. “Look, the new trailer for the second season of this soccer series is out. Shall we watch the first episode together on Saturday after work?” you ask Osamu as he approaches you and looks over your shoulder. He rests his hand on the counter next to you, his chest almost touching your back, but he keeps his distance from you respectfully. You are both focused on the trailer, not hearing the doorbell from the store.

Atsumu is tired. The flight was delayed, and he hasn’t been able to sleep properly for weeks. How could he sleep well with all the partying and Hinata as his roommate, who spent the night in the hotel calling his friends from Karasuno. At least that’s what he tells himself… that this is the reason for his sleepless nights. But this thought vanishes when he steps into his brother’s store hungry, actually only wanting to eat a few onigiris and then go home. Into his apartment. His empty, dreary apartment. But as he walks through the door of the store, it feels as if someone has hit his chest with full force, knocking the air out of him.

He sees Osamu leaning towards you with a sense of familiarity. What’s going on there? And why does it bother him so much that you giggle and look at Osamu, who returns your gaze with a nod and a smile before turning to the door? His brother winces when he sees Atsumu. As you turn around as well, your smile disappears.

You look at Atsumu as if you’ve just seen a corpse, before packing your bag and saying goodbye to Osamu with a “See you tomorrow.”, only to walk past Atsumu with quick steps. You don’t even give him a glance, knowing that if you locked eyes with him, your tears would run. You would want to ask him questions upon questions. Why did you break up with me? Why am I not enough for you? Why did you lie to me for so long? Why...

As you walk through the door, you accidentally bump into him. This nudge, which was actually rather gentle, felt so painful. Why does it bother Atsumu to see you standing so close to his brother? Why does it hurt him that you stared at him with those empty eyes, as if he were a stranger? No. Worse, as if he were someone who had hurt you. Why does he have the feeling that he couldn’t make a sound if he opened his mouth now? The answer is simple, and even Atsumu seems to understand it by now as he looks from the now closed door over to Osamu, who stares at him with an indifferent expression crossing his arms in front of his chest. “So this is what someone who has realized that he doesn’t want a relationship looks like? Ya look like shit.”

Oh, how Atsumu would love to punch Osamu in the face. “Why are ya touchin’ my girl?” is bitter on his tongue, but he has no right to say it out loud. After all, he was the one who turned you down. The blonde Miya suddenly realizes how incredibly stupid his action was.

Back then, Atsumu had not expected to be traveling abroad so often. At first, it was only temporary stays. Nothing that would damage a relationship.

But the last few times in particular, he was sometimes away for several months. You kept telling him on the phone that everything was okay, but every time he called Osamu, he said that your eyes were sometimes red when you came to work and that you looked tired and sad.

Atsumu knew he was the reason. That you’d probably be better off without him. After all, you’re a great woman, someone who would find a new partner quickly.

You didn’t deserve to be sad all the time when he was gone. You should be happy. After all, a smile suits you so much better than a sad expression.

Atsumu would concentrate on his career. It would be difficult for him at first, but he would manage without you. He had to… for your sake.

So his mind was made up when he read your unanswered, concerned messages. If he texts you now to say that it’s over, being an ass to you, you’ll be able to forget him quickly… That was what he thought. 

But it wasn’t that easy. Your puzzled messages, your crying voice on his voicemail, broke his heart. Yet he tried to cover it all up with parties and his dear fans. He convinced himself that he was fine. Only to arrive home, see you and realize what an idiot he was, how much he missed you.

And now it’s Atsumu who reaches for his phone and texts you message after message.

Atsumu 8:02 PM: Hey babe, no.. hey Y/n. I know I have no right to text you. But please… let’s talk. I fucked up. Damn, I fucked up so hard that I don’t even know how to start… shit…

Atsumu 8:12 PM: Please… please answer your phone, babe…

Atsumu 8:44 PM: I know I’ve fucked up. I know I hurt and disappointed you. Fuck, I know I was an ass. Yk, I thought I was doing the right thing. 

Atsumu 9:34 PM: Fuck… please answer me… I still… damnit. 

That was the last message you received from Atsumu before you put your phone away and tried to forget him. Why is he doing this to you? Why is he stirring up your feelings again?

But Atsumu doesn’t think about stopping now. He runs to your house, to the apartment building and rings your doorbell. Once, twice, he rings so often that you can’t ignore it. You are about to tell him to leave through the loudspeaker system, but he interrupts you.

“Fuck baby, please open the door. I’m… I still love ya, okay? I always loved ya. I - shit, can ya even hear me? Fuck…” he curses agitatedly and presses the bell next to your nameplate again several times.

But instead of letting him in, you go down to the entrance of the apartment building and open the door with an expression on your face that Atsumu has never seen before. What is it? Anger, sadness, despair? Everything somehow.

“Say... are you kidding me? Do you think that’s funny?” you ask him, bewildered, still standing in the open doorway. Of course, you wouldn’t just believe him. Atsumu could have guessed. Your reaction was completely understandable. But he has to do something to show you that he’s serious.

“No, no, I don’t. I’m dead serious. Please let me explain,” he says, and starts to tell you that he thought a break-up would be best for you because he’s not good enough for you. Since you were obviously so sad about him leaving so often and he didn’t want to be the reason. He tells you that he thought he could get over you, but that he had to realize that you are the most important thing to him. Something… someone he doesn’t want to lose. With shaky hands and a still agitated voice, Atsumu takes out his phone.

“I wanted ya to hate me so that it would be easier for ya. But believe me, I... I couldn’t forget ya. Look, you’re still my wallpaper. All the photos of the two of us are still on my phone, all the memories-“ he is about to unlock his screen when his phone falls out of his hand and drops to the floor. Atsumu seems to be completely overwhelmed right now, as if he doesn’t know what to do. Should he bend down, pick up the phone, should he keep talking to you or hug you? He doesn’t know.

”Baby, please, please, I’ll do anything. Please gimme a chance. I’ll talk to my agent about not takin’ so many jobs abroad. I will be with ya more often. Always write to ya and call ya in the evening when I’m not at home. Let’s look for an apartment so we can move in together. Please, please, I would do anything. Please believe me that I love ya. Please..." he begs in a voice that becomes more and more brittle with every word. His eyes are full of emotion and his hands, which have unconsciously reached for yours, are trembling terribly.

“Two months... two months you ignored me, treated me like a piece of trash.” You say in a low voice as you search for eye contact. Atsumu has never felt so scared. Only now does he realize that the love of his life is standing in front of him, and that this might be the last time he’ll see her again, the last time he’ll touch her skin. But then again… Atsumu was an ass, so why should you forgive him? No, he can’t think like that. After all, you loved him. And if you love him as much as he loves you, then maybe there’s still hope.

“I know, and I know I can never make it up to ya. I know it’s not done with an ‘I’m sorry’. I’m the dumbest, most idiotic ex-boyfriend you’ve ever had. But... I’m stubborn too. And if that means chasin’ after ya for 10 years, drivin’ to yer apartment every day to ring the doorbell and tell ya I still love ya, wishin’ ya a good night every day, nice dreams and telling ya how important you are to me... I’ll do it. Every damn day, if it means there’s still a little hope for us.” He answers you hoarsely, keeping eye contact, hoping that you see how honest his words are.

You sigh, bend down, and pick up his phone before handing it to him. Atsumu doesn’t know what to do with all this. His face grimaces as if he’s expecting the worst. “Then... you shouldn’t lose your phone... if you want to write to me every day,” you answer him, a weak smile on your lips. Atsumu’s sorrowful expression suddenly changes and you see him looking at you with hope.

“Does that mean ya...” the blonde Miya can no longer contain his emotions as he leaps forward and pulls you into his arms. His embrace is so tight that you can barely breathe, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip out of his hands. Firm, but quivering. His whole body is shaking and you’re sure you’ve just felt something wet on your skin. Tears? Is Atsumu crying? “I promise to be a pain in yer ass every day. To text ya, to call ya, to be there for ya. Even in yer sleep. Okay? I love ya... I love ya so much...”

tw: abuse, anger issues, mention of blood

You’ve been with Iwaizumi since your school days. Back then, as a little flirt at school, Oikawa and Matsukawa mainly teased Iwaizumi for having a crush on you.

But in the end, many were jealous of the perfect couple who waltzed together on the dance floor at the prom with loving looks on their faces.

You were inseparable. Even Iwaizumi’s stay in America for his university didn’t affect your relationship. So it was no wonder that you got married after his return and were the perfect happy couple.

At least for the first few years.

The stress of being a coach for the Japanese national team is weighing on Iwaizumi’s mind. He normally handles stressful situations well, but he is under pressure.

If the team fails to perform in the next few games, he will lose many sponsors and possibly even his job.

Iwaizumi is constantly on edge and you feel like you have to walk on eggshells around him so you don’t provoke him.

More often, he has sudden temper tantrums, shouting at you about things that aren’t worth mentioning. “Damn it, I told you I need this one shirt for today. Why isn’t it clean?”

And once, when you stumbled with your words and asked him whether it might not be better to take a break as a coach, he was so angry that he almost hit you. But he managed to hold back and just sighed before going out for a beer in a nearby bar.

You don’t want to admit it to yourself, but right now, you’re really scared of your own husband.

Today was another training match between the Japanese national team and the Indonesian team. The team’s performance was better, but nowhere near good enough to shine. You watched the game on TV and run through your imaginary list in your head already, of potential trigger points for Iwaizumi. You don’t want him to get upset. The laundry is done; the house is clean; the food is also ready and in the fridge. Did you take out the trash? You chew nervously on your lower lip as you walk to the kitchen and let out a relieved sigh. That’s done too.

You are just closing the lid of the garbage can when you hear the key in the lock of your front door and Iwaizumi comes home with a surprisingly normal, “I’m home, my love, smells good in here”. Your shoulders relax immediately, a smile is back on your lips as you walk cheerfully into the hallway to greet Iwaizumi.

“Hello darling! How was your day?” Iwaizumi hugs you and leans down so you can kiss his cheek. “Let me eat something first. My day has been really exhausting,” he sighs, watching you nod and turn around to warm up the food for him. Your husband hangs up his jacket, puts down his bag and is about to turn around to follow you when he stumbles against a nearby vase that you had placed as a decoration for the fall changeover. The vase swings, loses its balance and falls to the floor in pieces.

“Shit!” You hear Iwaizumi curse and immediately run to him, anxiously hoping that nothing has happened to him. But luckily, he is unharmed. “Wait, I’ll clean up the broken pieces, you eat-“ you’re about to say, but Iwaizumi interrupts you loudly. “Always this stupid bullshit you put up. Shit, I could have hurt myself. If I miss now, that’s it for my career!” he shouts and stomps past you. You turn around hastily and apologize. “That wasn’t my intention, really,” you say, before realizing that it was a mistake to talk back. Iwaizumi turns around, his eyes ferocious and angry like a wild animal as he takes a step towards you. Your heart is beating restlessly and you are suddenly afraid.

“Not your intention? Admit it, you’d be happy if I got rid of the job!��� he shouts, noticing how you start to tremble and shake your head. But Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to be in his right mind as he takes another step towards you. “Go clean up the mess! Make yourself useful!” he says through gritted teeth as he looks at your anxious and puzzled face. You know you should move, but your body doesn’t seem to listen, too scared to move a finger. And then it happens.

Iwaizumi grabs you by the hair and pulls you towards him. You cry out, weeping bitterly as you hear his voice again. “Are you deaf?! Get going!” he shouts, before pushing you away with more force than necessary. You lose your balance, stumble over your own feet as you fall and hit your head on the edge of the stairs in the hallway next to the broken vase. Your head hurts terribly, something warm flows down your face, sticking to your hair and making your vision suddenly completely different. It gets smaller and smaller before everything goes black in front of your eyes and the sounds around you stop completely.

Iwaizumi is abruptly perfectly sober and only now understands what has just happened. What he has just done to you, the woman he loves more than anything.

His eyes are big as he stares at his hands, which start to tremble in front of him.

Panic spreads through him as he looks at you. At your motionless body, at all the blood under your head.

He doesn’t know how he did it. His memories are hazy, but he can still remember trying to wake you up, in vain.

He had taken off his shirt, pressed it on your head injury to stop the bleeding and somehow managed to call an ambulance. Iwaizumi can’t remember anything else, just the one question from the paramedic who put you on the ambulance stretcher and took you to the hospital. Since Iwaizumi was your husband, he was allowed to drive with you.

“How did this happen?” the paramedic asked, as Iwaizumi answered quietly, “I don’t know... I really don’t know.”

It’s now been some hours after the accident and your head had been stitched up. Thank God it wasn’t as bad as it looked at first.

You’re still in the recovery room, Iwaizumi next to your bed on a chair, his hands folded in his lap as he hangs his head in bewilderment, looking at his wedding ring shining on his ring finger.

What happened? What has become of him? He still can’t believe what he has done.

He looks at his hands again, opens them, starts to tremble, clenches them into fists and realises how he lets out a frustrated sigh, which he had been holding back, as warm tears roll down his cheeks, soaking the fabric of his trousers.

In his mind, there’s only your shaking body, that frightened look, your screaming, and then this unbearable silence.

When you open your eyes, your head throbs a little and you have to squint through the bright, clinical light. “Where... where am I?” you say quietly, looking around the room and noticing that you’re lying in a hospital room. Next to your bed is none other than Iwaizumi. But he looks different. Broken… He shrinks at your words and looks up at you. You see his red eyes and how he hesitates whether it’s okay to take your hand in his. Iwaizumi gets up from his chair, wants to close the distance to your bed but his legs collapse and he falls to his knees when he suddenly starts to... cry? 

“Haji- me...” you say, still feeling exhausted. “I’m... god I...” Iwaizumi doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to look you in the eye. He takes a deep breath, regains his courage before peering at you. Carefully, he grasps your hand, checking if you are afraid, but you don’t seem to pull it away. Maybe because you’re still too tired. Awkwardly, he strokes the back of your hand before resting his forehead on it and closing his eyes briefly.

“I’m a terrible husband. I’ve done everything I shouldn’t have done. Instead of carrying you on my hands, bringing a smile to your face and protecting you from everything that would harm you, I’ve done the exact opposite. Instead of being happy to see me, you’re just scared of me, aren’t you?” he says in a shaky voice and looks up at you again. You are calm. Just stare at him with a hurt look.

“I.... I can understand if you want a divorce. If you don’t want to be with a monster like me anymore. I really can’t even blame you. But... please let me tell you one thing. When I saw you lying on the floor like that, the world collapsed inside me. I was afraid of losing the most important thing in my life. And the most important thing is not my job, no, it’s you. And I’m ashamed that I’ve forgotten that. I am disgusted with myself and I know that is no excuse. What I have done is unforgivable. But please... if there is still a bit of hope, then I will try to do everything I can to be the man you fell in love with again. I want to be your Haji-bear again. Your place of peace, and your favorite person. I will go to anger issues therapy, behavioral therapy. If it’s better for our relationship, I’ll step down as a coach and see if I can find a job as a volleyball coach at a school. No matter what, I would do anything.” Your hand becomes wet as his tears land on it. His words move something inside you. You want to believe him, you don’t want the relationship to end either, but everything that has happened so far will not pass by without damage.

“I need time, Hajime... If you really mean it, please grant me the time...” you answer him and notice how your words seem to tear him apart. But at the same time he seems to want to make the best of the situation. He lets go of your hand and stands up just to sit back down on the chair next to your bed, looking at you determinedly, his eyes still red and swollen. “As much time as you need. If it means we still have a chance...”

A few months pass. Iwaizumi has passed on the house to you and moved into his parents’ house to give you the space you need. He goes to therapy three times a week and tells you about his progress. He is still coaching the national team, but his assistant coach is taking a lot of the work off his hands and the volleyball team seems to be playing better again.

Just like when you were at school, you’ll find a letter in your letterbox once a week. Back then, Iwaizumi always told you a bit about his week and wrote it down because, funnily enough, he was too shy to talk to you in person. Only that in his current letters he writes that he misses you, but hopes that you are doing well at the moment.

He meets you in public places, goes out with you, so that you gradually feel more comfortable with him again, that you can see his progress in therapy and don’t just think it’s empty words.

Six months have passed since the incident. You are standing in the bedroom, changing the sheets, when Iwaizumi comes through the front door of the house. “My love, I’m home,” you hear Iwaizumi’s calm voice. Coming home from his therapy session, he hangs up his jacket in the hallway as your voice lets him know where you are. 

Iwaizumi puts the flowers he bought for you on the kitchen table before he sneaks into the bedroom and sees you trying to unfold the sheets to put them on the blankets. With silent steps, he reaches around your waist to throw you onto the bed with him, wrapped in the covers that were in your hands earlier. Screaming, you laugh in unison with his chuckle as you look into each other’s eyes. “Hajime! Don’t scare me like that.” you laugh softly, while his hand gently tucks your hair behind your ear. Iwaizumi looks at your forehead, at the small scar that is left from your injury, before leaning forward and giving you a kiss on that spot.

“I’m sorry, but that was just so tempting,” he says, closing his eyes as he pulls you closer and just relaxes in bed with you. He strokes your back and kisses your forehead once more. “Hajime... what’s going on? Why are you so clingy suddenly?” you laugh, but Iwaizumi doesn’t join in the laughter, instead answering you seriously.

“Today, six months ago, I almost lost you. I’m just grateful that nothing happened to you. Thankful that you gave me another chance, even though I showed my worst side.” You can’t think of the right words to answer him, so you just smile, snuggle closer to him, and close your eyes. Safe in his arms, with his pulsating heart at your ear, you fall asleep.

tw: mention of abortion, mention of drugs/pills (without consent) 

Suna and you were just friends for a long time. Even if the others saw you more like a couple.

You were the only one Suna didn’t mind when you sat next to him and pulled out one of his earphones to listen to music with him.

You always had the same route to school and if one of you came to school alone, you knew immediately that the other one must be sick. 

With graduation, you mentioned that you might want to study abroad. That time, Suna had a weird feeling in his stomach for the first time. As if he was afraid of losing you.

That was the day he realised that he felt more for you than just friendship.

The same evening, he asked you to come over and watch a movie when he yawned in a very clichéd way to put his arm over your shoulder and pull you closer to him. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, but he just was.

A number of things went through his mind. What if you don’t feel the same way about him as he does about you? Will you still want to study abroad? Would you end your friendship with him if you didn’t feel the same way?

He tried to block out the questions and then, with his usual calmness, asked you if you could imagine anything more than a friendship. Luckily for him, you said yes.

From that moment on, everything was perfect. You had created your own little world over several years. You studied, and luckily not abroad. Suna was successful in volleyball, so you were both able to buy an apartment together quickly.

Just the two of you. Your friends were there from time to time, but in the evenings you were always alone at home, arm in arm, in the quiet flat without any noise or other people to disturb you.

Until one morning where you look at the little piece of plastic in the bathroom, stunned, when the two red stripes tell you that you are pregnant.

You hadn’t spoken to Suna about having children yet, but you’ve been together for so long now and everything is going well that you assume he would be just as happy as you are.

You thought…

When Suna comes home, you’ve already prepared a little surprise. There are a pair of baby shoes on the table in the living room, the pregnancy test in front of them and a little balloon with “Best Dad” written on it. You can’t help smiling as you see Suna walk into the room when you call out “surprise”, looking a little shy in his direction. But Suna’s reaction differed from what you expected.

Almost disgusted, he looks in your direction. “This better be one of those stupid TikTok pranks, right?” he says, and your smile disappears abruptly. Your stomach turns and you feel sick. And not because of the pregnancy. You stand there irritated, only able to utter a quiet “No... it’s not a joke”, confused by his negative reaction. “No? What week are you in? Tell me you can still have an abortion...” he says, annoyed, as he walks towards the table to see if there is any information about the week of pregnancy on the pregnancy test. 

“What?” you say in bewilderment, still looking at Suna, who throws the test on the table in frustration before starting to massage his temples. “We’ll go to the gynecologist tomorrow, okay? Get rid of it. A child means responsibility. You have to look after this thing all the time, you’re no longer flexible and it’s noisy too... I just don’t want that.” 

His words feel like a thousand stabs. Never have you seen Suna act like this before. You anticipated that he might be a bit taken by surprise and perhaps not be able to deal with the situation at first, but Suna seems to have a very clear opinion on the subject. He doesn’t even seem to be willing to talk. But abort a child? Let Suna’s and your baby die just like that? You can’t do that. You don’t want that. 

The two of argue. Suna’s look gets progressively angrier. Yours sadder until he decides to leave the house with a “Do what you want, maybe it’ll die anyway”. Now you’re home alone with his painful words. You stand rooted to the spot in the room for several more minutes until the strength in your legs finally gives way and you slump to the floor, crying bitterly. The night, you spend alone in your bed, without Suna. He doesn’t answer his phone and doesn’t reply to your messages. You don’t hear from him the next day either, and he hasn’t come home. Thank God you get a message from Osamu, who texts you that Suna is with him and that you have nothing to worry about. But how are you supposed to stay at home without worrying if your boyfriend doesn’t get in touch with you and you’ve been arguing for days? You are scared. Afraid for the baby, afraid for the relationship and everything you two have built up.

Another day passes. You lie in bed, tired and lacking in energy. Nevertheless, you pull yourself together and get up, go to the bathroom to get ready for the day and don’t notice when the front door opens and Suna walks in. “Baby doll, I’m at home... and... I’m sorry...” you hear Suna’s voice and walk out of the bathroom. Even though you had a fight, you are still happy to see the man you love so much again. With a somewhat sad smile, he stands there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand as he approaches you.

“I’m really sorry. I behaved like an ass. You took me by surprise with the news and somehow... I don’t know. What do you say you sit down now? I’ll make us a drink and we can talk about all this. About the baby, and what happens next?” You can hardly believe his words. What has Osamu done in the last few days to make Suna suddenly do a full turnaround and be willing to talk to you openly, without shouting about becoming a parent? You make a mental note to thank Osamu later, before nodding with a smile and sitting down on the sofa in the living room.

But what you don’t know is that Suna went to a friend, a doctor, who gave him two pills before he came home. Pills for an induction of abortion. You have to take one now and the other two to three days later.

Suna knows that you wouldn’t take these pills voluntarily.

So he makes sure that you are indeed sitting in the living room before he takes out a small bag containing a pill, puts it in the grinder and turns it into a fine powder before mixing it into your iced tea.

He takes a deep breath, putting his smile back on as he walks towards you in the living room, where you are already waiting for him with happy eyes.

Without saying much, he hands you the glass, sits down next to you and watches you.

“I know it’s all so sudden and I could have said it differently. I really took you completely by surprise with the news,” you say quietly, looking at the iced tea in your hand, unaware that an abortion pill is floating there.

Suna listens attentively as you talk about how you first had to understand what a pregnancy means, but that your overwhelm quickly turned into joy because you are looking forward to holding a mini version of the two of you in your arms in less than 9 months. You talk about all the beautiful things that are going through your head, while Suna continues to listen to you, his eyes constantly focus on the tea in your hands and you.

He keeps looking at you as you raise the glass and press it to your lips, ready to drink the poison cocktail, when he realizes what he was doing. What he’s trying to do here.

Panic strikes him. His green eyes widen as he literally knocks the cup out of your hand. It falls to the floor with a loud thud. “Don’t drink that!” he says in an unsteady voice and looks at you in horror.

But you don’t understand anything, only shake your head.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me. I... I think I just made the worst mistake of my life,” Suna says, looking back from you to the broken cup. You don’t understand what’s going on and tilt your head, asking him if everything is all right. But when Suna continues talking and tells you what was in your tea, your world collapses. You are shocked that your own boyfriend wanted to do this to you. “I was overwhelmed. I... I know that’s no excuse. But when I heard you talking, I realized that -“ Suna wanted to continue, but your voice cut him off, your words silenced him.

“Let’s break up,” you say, and unlike before, unlike when you argued a week ago, your voice is determined now, your eyes full of pain and betrayal. Those green eyes that used to mesmerize you are now looking at you desperately. “What?” Suna whispers softly, followed by a “No, wait”. But you interrupt him again.

“You just wanted to give me some drugs without my consent so I’d lose the baby?! No, Rintarou… I’m breaking up with you. That... no, I can’t do that.” Abruptly, you get up from the sofa, ignoring the hand that tries to grab you before quickly slipping into a jacket and a pair of shoes just to leave the apartment. Suna wants to run after you, but his legs won’t move. His mind and heart are screaming to run after you, to stop you and tell you he’s sorry, but his body just won’t obey him. When he finally manages to get up, you’re already gone.

Still wearing his slippers and without putting on a jacket, he eventually runs out to check out all the places you love, all your friends, to see if he can find you somewhere. But no matter where he looks, he can’t find you. You don’t reply to messages or phone calls. The mechanical voice of your voice mail greets him directly. “Shit, shit, shit!” he yells as he stands in the park where you two had your first official date. The surrounding people look at him. Some with an irritated look, some as if they were pitying him.

Without really knowing where to go, your legs automatically led you to the bus that goes to Kita’s home.

Kita was one of your best friends back then. And you knew that if you went to Kita and told him not to tell Suna that you were there, he wouldn’t tell his friend either. And that’s exactly what Kita did.

You were in Kita’s guest room when you heard Suna’s voice in the hallway.

He sounded shattered, broken, as he begged Kita to tell him where you were.

This went on for several weeks, until one evening Suna rang the doorbell again, trying to talk to Kita in a voice you had never heard before.

His voice was so thin, so fragile, as if a heap of misery was speaking out of him.

Kita tells him once again that he doesn’t know where you are when you hesitantly open the door, thinking about going downstairs and listening to what Suna has to say. But for now, you just listen to the conversation.

“Please, Shinsuke, I know you know her location. Please, just give her this. Please...” Kita sighs, followed by a soft “ok...” before the front door closes. Your best friend’s footsteps creak beneath the floor as he walks up the stairs, looks at you a little twisted and hands you a large package.

You know that you demand a lot from Kita. It’s not easy for him to lie to his friend either. Eventually you have to talk to Suna.

Alone in your guest room, you spend almost half an hour looking at the unopened package at the other end of the bed until you finally decide to open it. When you see what’s inside, surprise catches you. Multiple emotions flow through your body without you even noticing how your eyes suddenly turn glassy. Small letters and several items are in the box. You take out the letter that is on top of all the other items.

“My love, I don’t even know where to start. I can’t apologize for what I did. Nevertheless, I want to tell you that I’m sorry. I was confused and scared. Our relationship has always been perfect so far and I thought it was great that it was just the two of us and that no one else disturbed our privacy. I was afraid that when we had a child, we would argue, have no more time for each other, and grow apart. I was selfish and didn’t think about how you would feel. I wasn’t thinking about our baby. The thought that we were both going to be parents hadn’t crossed my mind at all. But every time I walked past those little shoes you had placed in the living room, I couldn’t think of anything else but seeing our child standing in them. How it tries to move around in it, sometimes falls down because it loses its balance and seeks shelter with its beloved mom. I regret every second of what I’ve done, every word I’ve said. Hurting you was the last thing I wanted to do, and yet I did it. I am sorry. I am so terribly sorry.

I did some research. Did you know that it is currently very difficult to find midwives? You should probably start looking very early on. My team colleague gave me the number of the midwife he and his wife had at the birth of their two children. I also have three other numbers. You might want to give them a call. There are also birth preparation classes in our town. I have also put a brochure in the package for you. You don’t necessarily have to go there with your partner. With me… So... if you want, you could also go there with Kita, even if I would be happy if we both did it together. But I can understand if you don’t want to.

Are you eating enough? You should pay particular attention to your diet during pregnancy. A lot of women suffer from a vitamin deficiency during pregnancy. But you have probably already discussed this with your gynecologist. Anyway, I’ve written down a few recipes for you that are rich in vitamins. I admit that Osamu helped me a little with this. Oh, and on the back are some things you shouldn’t eat during pregnancy. Raw eggs and products containing them such as ice cream, mayonnaise and so on... you should not eat them, because the risk of salmonella infection is high. Peanuts can contain aflatoxins, which can also harm the fetus... but as I said, I’ve put together a list for you. In case you didn’t already know all this already. There are a few other things in the box. Maybe you’d like to take a look.

I hope you are doing well. I hope the baby is doing well too. Have you thought of a name yet? Do you know whether it will be a boy or a girl? I’m sure there’s already a little bump on your belly. I... would really like to be with you right now. Would love to hold you in my arms and stroke your tummy. I know I made a mistake that can never be fixed. But if you’re willing, if that’s what you want, I’d really like to be by your side again. And if not as your boyfriend, then as the father of our baby. I would like to do couples’ therapy with you so that we can find our way back to each other… So that you can trust me again. Because in all of this, I was the problem and never you. But only if you want it too, of course. I know it may be hard to believe, but I love you. So much that a life without you scares me. I am sorry…”

You’re crying bitterly by now as your tears blur the ink on the letter before you put it aside and look in the box. Next to a small onesie for babies, there is a note with the telephone numbers of midwives, a small book with recipes, the brochure he had mentioned and another box containing photos and memories. Pictures that Suna had always secretly taken of you at times when he thought you looked extra pretty. You always found the photos embarrassing, but for him they were beautiful to look at. Because they were moments when you were just being you, not smiling for the camera or doing anything else to disguise yourself.

There was also a necklace with shells on it in the box. You made it for Suna when you were on vacation in Croatia. It turned out incredibly ugly, yet Suna wore it proudly during the whole vacation. You’re touched that he still has this ugly necklace. Little notes that you wrote to each other at school are also in there. So many more memories from the past. Where had Suna hidden this little box in your apartment so that you never noticed it?

You hastily get up, open the door and run down to the hallway as Kita comes out of the living room and looks at you questioningly. “Is everything all right? Do you need to see a doctor?” He asks concerned, but you just shake your head, wanting nothing more than to see Suna, talk to him again. He asks you if you are absolutely sure, but your determined nod is enough for an answer. So he grabs his jacket and car keys, driving you straight to your ex boyfriend, to your apartment. He doesn’t want you to take the bus in your current state.

Suna is sitting in the living room. In front of him on the coffee table are various reports on pregnancy, parenting and more. His head is leaning on his hands as he takes a deep breath. Have you opened his package yet? He wonders, unable to think clearly, when he hears the key in the door lock and runs into the hallway as if stung by a tarantula. His eyes are wide as he looks at you, standing rooted to the spot in the doorway, not knowing how to react.

“Shinsuke... Drove me here...” you say. “I opened your package.” You continue, watching Suna swallow hard, still not moving an inch from the doorframe. “How are you, the baby?” he asks quietly, almost absent-mindedly, as if he can’t believe you’re really standing in front of him. “Good... can... can we talk?” you ask and watch him nod, having trouble sorting out his feelings. You take a step towards him, clearly seeing the dark circles, the red eyes, the slightly thinner face, as if he has lost weight. And on closer look, you can see his whole body trembling.

“Is everything you wrote in your letter true?” you ask him, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible, even though you’re at your wits’ end. “Yes, yes all of it. I’m sorry for everything... I want nothing more than to see you happy. To see our baby happy. And if you want another partner by your side to be happy, if you don’t want me in your life, then I will accept that.” Suna whispers, knowing that if he were to speak even a little louder, his voice would fail and he would cry. You take another step towards him. “What if I want you? Want to give it another try?” You have barely spoken your sentence before you hear a bitter shuffle from Suna, which he seems to have been suppressing the whole time. His shaky hands carefully reach for your face before he presses his forehead against yours and says softly, “I would wish for nothing more than that.”

Although you hesitate for a second, you finally put your hands around his back and stand with him in the doorway for a while. Neither of you says a word. Both of you let your tears run until Suna releases you at some point and gives you a kiss on the forehead. “You shouldn’t stand for so long. You’d better get some rest,” he says in a somewhat steady voice before helping you out of your jacket and leading you into the bedroom, where he pushes the sheets aside so you can lie down. 

“Rin, but I’m not tired at all...” you say, even though you are exhausted, but Suna lies down right next to you, pulling you close while his free hand moves to your stomach. “I know... But... let’s just lie here like this for a moment, regain our strength before we talk... Talk about everything, our future, how I can make it up to you, our little baby… Agree, baby doll?” He whispers tiredly. Yet you also notice how all the crying is slowly making you a little tired. “Agree, Rin.” you smile weakly, snuggling closer to him as you both fall asleep arm in arm, his hand protectively on your baby bump, your hand on his.

[storywriter007]

(Part 2) Part 1 - You're Not Her - Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

summary: in which y/n realizes this relationship is no longer worth fighting for

warnings: cursing, character death, toxic relationship, throwing things

genre: angst

word count: 1.1k

-> heroes of olympus masterlist

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y/n laughed as a smidge of vanilla ice cream was put on percy's nose.

"not funny y/n." he said, irritated, wiping it off.

"sorry, won't happen again." she said back, shocked at the mood change. "wanna go for a swim?" she asked, trying to change the topic.

"no, i want to stay dry." he said, plainly.

"do you want to do anything?" y/n laughed.

he looked at her with his sea green eyes.

"what do you think." he said.

"alright per-sassy-eus." she shrugged.

they stared the the lake in silence until a little girl came running.

"y/n! y/n!" she shouted, running towards her.

y/n wrapped her arms around the seven-year old.

"hey serena! what's up?" she asked, smiling.

"me and lily and kayla and a bunch of other girls are making friendship bracelets!" serena said excitedly. "c'mon! hi percy!"

"hey serena." he smiled. "i like your bracelet."

"i have two of them, they are matching!" she grinned. "you can have one."

she slid the blue one off her wrist and gave it to percy.

"now we're best friends!" serena said, returning to y/n and tugging on her hand.

y/n looked at percy.

"percy, i'm gonna go." she smiled, kissing him on the cheek.

"yeah, ok." he shrugged.

"love you." y/n said.

"mhm."

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y/n got to the arts and crafts table and sat down next to her good friend, olivia.

"they got you too?" liv laughed.

"yeah." y/n smiled.

"y/n! why didn't percy say love you back?" serena asked.

y/n felt hurt, but she couldn't show that, not to this little girl. olivia stared at her, waiting for the response.

"he's just a little shy now-a-days." y/n chuckled.

"but he's your boyfriend!" serena's friend, lily spoke up.

"boyfriends can be shy." y/n explained, wondering whether she was lying to the kids or herself.

"but he always say i love you to annabeth!" serena's other friend, kayla added.

"i guess he's just a little more reserved after what happened with annabeth. that changes people." y/n smiled.

"he's still my hero though!" serena smiled.

"him and jason are my heroes!" lily added.

"kayla, who's your hero?" they asked.

"my hero is reyna!" she said confidently.

y/n chuckled.

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y/n and olivia sat on y/n's bed in her cabin.

"what were the girls going on about today?" liv asked.

"percy, and they were right, and they had good points." y/n sighed, tired of hiding it. "we've been dating for almost a year now, and he's just so negative."

"what do you mean?" liv continued.

"i mean he always gets mad at me, he never wants to do anything with me, and it feels like i'm just someone to look at when he's bored." y/n explained. "i get it, things are different for him after annabeth died."

olivia nodded, placing her hand on y/n's for comfort.

"they'd been friends forever, they went through hell together, they'd been in love, and he couldn't save her at the battle. but it's been three years, and he confessed to me. he said, 'i know you've like me for a while and i think i do too.' i remember the day liv." y/n continued. "and things have changed for me too. piper and hazel are always casting me dirty glances, jason and leo and frank avoid me if i'm in anywhere near ten feet to them. i've been slut-shamed, compared, and bullied because i'm dating him."

y/n began to feel tears well up.

"i just want him to talk to me and hang out with me without feeling like he's being forced to do it." she finished.

"y/n, i think this is something you have to tell percy." olivia responded. "you can't keep going like this, it's going to kill you."

"i don't want to hurt him and what if he just freaks out on me? i care about him." y/n countered.

"just talk to him." olivia encouraged. "he's a good man, he'll understand."

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"you're not understanding me!" y/n said, sadness filling her voice. "i-i'm not telling you to get over what happened, i'm trying to tell you that you can talk to me! i'm trying to help you percy!"

"help me! help me! you want to help me by bringing up her name?" he screamed.

gods, he was scary.

"i'm trying to tell you that it feels like you don't even like me, much less love me! it's like i'm a burden to you!" y/n shouted back. "and i understand you're hurting, but why am i a victim of your grief?"

"fine!" he said, throwing a candle across his cabin. "i'm sorry that my girlfriend, who i loved for longer than i've ever known you, is dead and that it makes me upset!"

y/n ducked, avoiding the glass shards. fear ran through her bones.

"and i'm sorry you have to go through that, but it sucks for me too! piper and hazel give me these glares, like they hate every vein in my body. leo, jason, and frank run from me like i'm a disease! and i've told you and you don't do shit to stop it, you encourage it if anything!" y/n yelled.

"they've got every fucking reason too!" he yelled, throwing a picture frame of us across the room.

"what's the reason! tell me, what's the reason!" y/n shouted.

"because you're not annabeth!" he yelled, with every bone in his body as tear welled up in his eyes. "you're not her, she would've never done whatever shit you're doing."

y/n stood still for a minute as the words replayed in her head.

you're not her, you're not her, you're not her.

tears filled y/n's eyes.

it's like percy finally understood the gravity of the situation as he looked around in shame.

"y/n, i didn't mean that-"

"no, no, percy, you did. you really did, because otherwise, you wouldn't have said it. and you wouldn't have followed every action to prove it." y/n chuckled. "i'm sorry i'm not annabeth."

percy took a couple of steps forward, but stopped instantly when y/n backed up defensively. y/n pointed to the glass shards around the room. they stood in silence.

"you're a bad man, percy. throwing shit and telling me i'll never be enough. i wish every little girl and boy could see their so-called camp hero right now. i wish they could see what a fucking monster he is." y/n said, her voice now low and quiet.

she turned around, and walked out of his cabin.

“y/n, can’t we talk about this?” he shouted out.

“oh i tried talking to you percy.” she chuckled. “but, you can always go down to annabeth’s gravestone and talk to her."

[lightlycareless]

hiii i rly love how you portray naoya and i really like how you got naoya's character on point like...... HOW

but like im imagining this headcanon wherein y/n and naoya are lovers and naoya brought up the topic of having an "open relationship" and naoya ends up getting no bitches/loses them in the process and y/n ends up getting approached by men who naoya respects a lot or someone he really looks up to and naoya becomes jealous and very insecure even though he was the one who wanted to open the relationship (reminds me of what you wrote about naoya's jealousy towards nanami)

Hello anon!

Awww, thank you so much ❤️❤️ I spent a lot of time thinking how to make Naoya as realistically possible, how to redeem him and such, which was difficult, but satisfying at the same time.

Yet, something a-hole behaviors of him would remain, lol it has to, or it wouldn't be him, you know???

And the open relationship thing is soooo in character for him. Ugh that man, seriously... As much as I want to deny it, I feel like he would bring it up (but in a universe he isn't like completely devoted to you, like he has yet to realize just how much you mean to him—all paths point to the same destination, it's just... how he gets there that matters lol)

Anyways, here are the warnings of this oneshot 😏: y/n has a harem essentially. gojo, suguru, nanami, and an extra one I've been dying to write. :)))) mentions of infidelity, naoya is a bastard. and a sprinkle of smut. fluff, and angst.

Without any further a do, happy reading!!

When the idea of an open relationship is suggested… the first of many fractures unwittingly struck your relationship.

First by shattering the image you had of him.

Sure, your feelings for Naoya remained, which is what made this ordeal far more painful…

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t harbor other emotions, such as anger.

“—just before we finally settle.” Is the lousy excuse he gives you when confronted, another stab to your heart. “Get it out of the system, you know?”

No. You don’t know, because for the past few years, Naoya is the only man you’ve had eyes for, to the point of imagining a future with him—and solely him.

It hurts to even consider he hasn’t been doing the same, probably already interested in some other woman, the reason behind his suggestion in the first place.

“I don’t want to…” you murmur, doing your best to not leave the table, or at least not shed a tear.

“It’ll only be a short time.” Naoya insists. “This way, we can know if we’re truly meant for each other. See if we don’t feel the same with others, hm?”

It’s stupid.

It really is—

Naoya’s suggestion… and your devotion to make him happy.

Because even after all the dumb things he said to justify the unjustifiable, you still wanted to please him.

“I guess we could go through restrictions or something, not that I have an—”

“No sex.” The rapid way in which you reply is something Naoya can’t help but find adorable, interpreting your eagerness as jealousy, overprotectiveness… before brushing it off as silly.

“Y/N—my love, you’re not seriously thinking we can reach a conclusion without that now, can we?”

Truth to be told, you didn’t want to find out. Not through this way at least, by laying in the arms of another…

Thus, could he really blame you for trying to fight it?

“Besides, don’t you want to try it out too?” Naoya smirks. “I’m fine with it, really. It’s a two-way street, after all. What’s good in me having all the fun?”

What hurts more?

That fact that Naoya wanted to pursue other women with your permission?

Or that he was pushing you onto other men, appearing careless to whatever you did or didn’t do with them?

It’s not that Naoya doesn’t care—far from that, really. He doesn’t like when men do as little as glance in your direction.

But he doesn’t worry because he knows there’s nothing to worry about.

Trusting that his hopelessly-in-love girlfriend would never betray him like that. Aware that your attention and devotion has been on him the moment you took him into your heart—and that no matter what, you’ll always come back to him.

It’s why he suggested the idea in the first place, because he’s long acknowledged that even past your limits, you still tolerate him.

Thus, unsurprised that you agreed to this change—Naoya leaving the apartment soon after that.

Looks like you were right in assuming he already had someone in mind to debut this new arrangement; willing to bet anything to prove he’s already on his way to her.

…Well, you hope that Naoya at least respects the only condition both agreed on: to not bring any partners to the apartment.

Not that you’d be there to see much of it anyways, opting to stay in your friend’s—Shoko— apartment for the time being.

“Can’t say I didn’t think him capable of doing something like that—but I guess I never thought he’d actually do it, not after dating you as long as he did.” She’d say, before taking a deep huff of her cigarette and exhaling.

You always found it endearing how she’d release the smoke to the side, as if it didn’t permeate the air around you… but at least Shoko cares enough to try. Not sure if you think the same of Naoya anymore…

“So much for having faith on him…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you say, offended yet intrigued by her implications.

“I mean, you knew of the rumors before dating him, Y/N.” Shoko adds, you sigh. That, you did. “I don’t want to say I told you so, but…”

“I guess I was hoping they weren’t real, either.” You slowly admit. “…What am I going to do, Shoko?”

A breakup isn’t exactly what you had in mind, certainly not what you wanted to do….

But why do that now when you could take advantage of this exploitable opportunity? An opening all too obvious to Shoko, which she doesn’t hesitate to let you know.

“Give him a taste of his own medicine.” She suddenly suggests. “He told you, didn’t he? That you were good to be with other men.”

“But I don’t want to.” You shake your head. “I don’t—I don’t think I can.”

“It’s exactly the same, just another face if that’s what you’re wondering.” Shoko explains, but to you, it was much deeper than that, always has been, for an emotional personal like you.

It’s why she was so angry that your beloved boyfriend was quick to disregard your feelings.

“Ok, sure, let’s say I agree.” You play along. “How do I even start? It’s been a while since I’ve been in the dating scene—I don’t even know if I’m still… desirable.”

Oh, if you only knew some were dying for this moment.

The first to approach you, and shockingly no less than a day after, was Gojo.

It was through an unexpected text, making you surprised he still had your number after all that time—or at all, considering you didn’t really text anyone outside of your family, close friends, and… Naoya.

Satoru once belonged to your social circle, but due to unknown reasons of his own, most likely to do with Suguru, he strayed.

Either way, you responded as amicably expected.

S: [Are you doing anything tonight?]

Y: [No… why?]

S: [Let’s get something to eat 😋]

Y: [Did you text the wrong person?]

S: [Wait, is this not Y/N’s number?]

Y: [It is…]

S: [Then I’ll pick you up later at Shoko’s apartment, 7 alright for you?]

Y: [Wait, how do you even know where I’m staying?]

S: [It’s a date, then! See you soon!]

It was good to see that Satoru remained as… well, pushy as ever. Not that you were glad to have been pulled into this outing without further precedent, but you eventually succumbed to the flow, and soon, you were in one of the fanciest restaurants of the city, sitting at a table Satoru had gotten through a reservation (difficult to do so given the status of the establishment, guess he can do anything that he sets his mind to), while chatting the evening away with just about anything that crossed his mind.

Regardless of how… oddly this situation came to be, you still found enjoyment in catching up with an old friend of yours. It had been so long since anyone had seen him, many even thought he had left the country all together.

Not that you had a way to know, since your connections were already limited thanks to Naoya—One of the many things you’ve had to sacrifice in to keep your attention solely on him.

…

Was your relationship with him always this consuming?

Well, you had lots of catch up with Satoru either way—it almost felt like you were getting to know him all over again! Happy to see that he essentially remained the same (somewhat irritating) goofball he always was.

But unfortunately, just as the good remained, the bad also prevailed, which you’d be reminded of when going for a walk around the city, just a few blocks down the main road when both were approached by a group of women, who upon catching sight of him and his undeniable attractiveness, knew they needed his attention.

That’s the thing with Satoru. Raised as the heir of a highly prestigious company, he just never got enough of it. Always wanting more and more, and not afraid to do whatever necessary to get it, careless if it was to the detriment of others.

Thus, you assumed it wouldn’t take long before he completely ignored you in favor of them, leaving you behind.

When talking about him, you normally wouldn’t care if he left you or not. He was just another friend, long accustomed to his ways. It was just… never like that.

But after all that happened with Naoya, it’s like your still-healing wound reopened, pain sharper when slowly reminded that even with a friend, you weren’t good enough to retain their attention, less their care…

Well, at least it was a good distraction, and you got to see Satoru again. You wonder how much would a taxi cost to take—

“Seriously, couldn’t you be any denser?? I’m on a date here!”

As if you’d been showered with a bucketful of ice-cold water, you freeze, blinking while slowly turning to see him and his angered face.

Did you… Did you hear him right?

“Get lost.” Satoru doesn’t even bother letting them respond before his hand is already on your back, gently pushing you forward and away from the group, leaving behind both the distraught, slightly spiteful women…

And your erroneous preconceptions.

As he goes back to the previous conversation you two were having, acting as if nothing happened, even suggesting getting something sweet to serve as dessert —your choice, he’d tease— all the self-doubt you felt for his actions immediately evaporates.

It was simple, more likely unintentional, but his gesture in defending your importance, highlighting the fact he wanted to be with you, against how he usually behaved…

Made you feel special, realizing that perhaps it wasn’t that hard to be somewhat of a decent person.

Yet, your feelings…

“It was a nice night out.” Satoru would say once parked outside Shoko’s apartment complex, signifying the end of your unexpected yet pleasurable evening with him.

“Yeah, it was… nice.”

“I hope we can do this again.” But you don’t keep your hopes up, not when your feelings for Naoya were still there, prickling at the back of your mind, inundating you with a sense of wrongfulness, for you were never one to offer the other cheek, regardless of what your estranged boyfriend was or wasn’t doing.

Unless Gojo were to do something to make you… well, not change your mind, but rattle your beliefs, if only for a moment, when he ruffled the top of your head, giving you a smile, before softly kissing your forehead.

Alongside the reminder that…

“You’re too pretty to be upset about someone like him.”

Albeit archaic, his words convinced you that perhaps… you could do with another day like this.

The second to approach you, yet again to much of your surprise, is Geto. Just a few days after Satoru did. Although his invitation was much more… palpable.

In other words, you were getting lunch with Shoko when he made his “sudden” appearance, joining the two for a bite, before driving both back to her apartment, only voicing his intentions when she was out the car, leaving you alone.

Although sweet, wholeheartedly intending to spend time with you, you could still that some of it lingered the realms of an unspoken competition between him and Satoru—which you didn’t know whether to be flattered by, or worried…

“—and let me guess. He spent the whole evening talking about himself.”

Somewhat, not that you cared to justify, really, for you were far more enthralled in learning all that he’s been up to since he left.

But it was the truth either way.

Geto sighs.

“We’ll do something better.” And so, is how the date begins, by first taking you to the mall, window shopping through essentially every store that crossed your path, while catching up with him—he too had disappeared for a while, motives unclear, although the common theory was that he had a nasty falling out with Gojo. But now it seems they’re on good terms given the way he occasionally mentioned him throughout the conversation.

Beyond that, you assumed Geto also took this visit as a good opportunity to go through some pending errands, maybe get something for himself as well—or… for someone else.

The things he was looking at were quite eye-catching, after all, very gift appropriate.

Regardless of who it was intended to, you were right to assume they were special to him if he was considering buying a diamond necklace…

But yet again, that’s what you believed—reality was simply much different.

Or obvious.

“Why don’t you try it on?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you wanted to try it on— I know it’ll look beautiful on you.” He’d say that, genuinely, with just about anything he deemed suitably for you, ranging from jewelry to clothes…

With your face flaring every single time.

“Oh—I—I don’t—” you stammer, struggling whether to decline his offer because this is all too luxurious for your taste…

Or because you were still processing the words that made you blush in the first place… alongside the fact that at one point, his hand had reached for yours without even noticing, intertwining his fingers with yours and staying that way while the two continued to walk around the mall.

Just… why did Satoru and Suguru decided to appear out of the nowhere?

“No, thank you.” Is what you eventually manage to say. If he’s noticed your nerves, he doesn’t say, instead, he simply gives your hand a soft squeeze, followed by another equally charming smile. “I don’t feel like trying out things either way.”

“Don’t worry about it, then. Perhaps another time.”

At his promise, you can’t hold back your skin from growing increasingly hotter, doing your best to instead focus on the movie the two agreed to watch, with little to no success, of course, considering Geto also took this opportunity to unconsciously drape his arm over your shoulders and move you closer.

While stereotypical, it still manages to fluster, and that’s how you’d remain for the rest of the date: even when getting something to eat, or when it was time to take you back to Shoko’s apartment once late enough.

But on the way back to the parking lot, you’re able to snap out of this trance when something catches your attention, just by the corner of your eye, effectively stopping you on your tracks.

Something simple, like a minimal black halter dress… unintentionally the same model you’ve wanting to try since forever, but never daring to do so, believing that your body was unbefitting of such style—and quickly, you moved on.

Your gaze didn’t linger much on it beyond a few mere seconds, certainly not for Suguru to notice, or so you considered…

But when the next day comes, a package is suddenly delivered at Shoko’s apartment, with your name on it, that by various personal reasons you open with great anticipation, growing distraught when seeing it had to do nothing with what you projected—

Quickly flustered upon realizing that the sender was Suguru all along, demonstrating his attentiveness by gifting you the same dress you saw last night, as well as his intentions of seeking something more with you.

“I enjoyed our time together. I wish to see you again—hopefully with this dress.”

You didn’t think you were too obvious when it came to your reaction, but at Shoko’s mention, you finally acknowledge you’ve been smiling, heart loudly pounding against your chest as you lovingly held the dress, moved by his gesture…

For when was the last time someone had gifted you something to your liking, without having to beg for it? Without having to justify why you wanted it?

…

…

Had it really been that long?

Just what else was missing in your relationship with Naoya…?

Or perhaps, not wanting to face?

…

Your feelings, to begin with.

Because as attentive and caring Satoru and Suguru had been, neither were courageous enough to acknowledge the situation that put you in their reach in the first place, opting to instead reap the benefits, but ignore the rest.

It wasn’t malicious, not at all. It’s been stated by now that they truly cared for you, always checking in on you whenever possible.

It’s just that… they didn’t feel comfortable doing so yet, believing they were far from appropriate, or close enough, to do so.

Judging by those characteristics, the only one worthy enough, and the one that would end up confronting you for that matter, was Nanami, who wanted to see you as soon as he found out the horrible situation Naoya had forced you to but struggled to do so thanks to his strenuous new job.

But once he was free, the first thing he did was call you, eventually meeting in Shoko’s apartment (she was gone for the day, for privacy matters, how convenient) and thus, everything else unfolded.

“Why are you even dating Naoya if he’s hurting you so much?”

“I—I don’t think that’s for you to discuss.” You objected, going through a roller coaster of emotions, a combination of unwillingness to speak of the matter, and fear of admitting the truth.

To talk about something like this was never an easy matter, more so when the situation was already deep in hot water…

Yet, his assertive nature didn’t come as a surprise to you anymore, nor permitted you to avoid it.

Nanami had always been this way, the one willing to speak about difficult things, rip the bandage, careless if you were prepared for it or not.

And let everything that is meant to happen, happen.

“My relationship is something only I should speak about! And when I feel ready for it…”

“Not when I see how much it’s hurting you.” He rebutted. “When was the last time you were genuinely happy at his side? Or where you didn’t have to sacrifice your personal life just to keep him happy?”

It’s obvious what he’s referring to—Nanami is another one of your friends you’ve lost contact with due to Naoya’s… jealousy. But different from Satoru and Suguru, he cared too much to just let you go, consistently reaching out to you whenever possible—even when you never answered.

“You don’t know what we agreed on—”

“I don’t think that losing your friends was part of that.”

“You don’t know him, you don’t know Naoya at all!’

“And you do?” Nanami counters, breath hitching at your throat, upset by his abruptness. “You once said Naoya was crude, but he’d never do anything to willingly hurt you—and yet, here you are, in an open relationship you clearly didn’t want.”

“Kento—that’s—” your voice trembles, his words too close for comfort. “That’s not—"

“Then why? Why do you keep tolerating him?” Nanami frowns. “Do you hate yourself that much?”

“What? No!” You shake your head, aghast by his accusation. “That’s not it, at all!”

“Then what is it, Y/N? What could possibly entail sticking around with a man that has done nothing but hurt you?”

“Stop it…”

“Seeing other women while still being with you? Is that your idea of a good relationship?”

“Kento, please—”

“It’s never my intention to offend you, but I can’t help believing you’re growing desperate—seeking for something you can’t have with him! So why? Why do you try so hard to make it work, when he clearly doesn’t deserve—"

“Because I don’t want to be alone, ok?!” You eventually shriek, tears in your eyes as his words stung your heart too deeply, too much to handle in silence anymore. “It’s just as simple as that!”

Nanami’s eyes widen, taken aback by your unexpected outburst and confession, yet, as surprised as he was, if not bothered, he was also very, greatly hurt by its meaning.

Your words unknowingly disregarding everyone else that had ever been there for you.

And such, he cannot believe it. He doesn’t—not when he’s been there all along.

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” Nanami insists. “What is the truth? Is he forcing you to this??”

“No, Kento, he’s not!” you objected. “I truly want to be with him, because he’s the only one that has ever wanted to be with me.”

“You know very well that’s not true.”

“Seems like our perspectives vary greatly.” You frown. “I remember attempts of trying to get close to people, only to be pushed to the side when someone better came along. Person after person, they all just… ignored me; either because I was overshadowed by my family, or because I was too mundane to compete with others.

Until… Naoya came along. He was the only one that saw me for who I was. Even though it was mostly because I fit the mold he wanted.

But even then… I was happy to play along, because it meant that for the first time in my life, I meant someone to something.”

“That’s what you think? That you didn’t mean anything to no one else?”

“It’s not what I think—It’s what I know.” You sniffle, doing your best to hold back the tears pooling in your eyes from falling. “…Even now I know I’m only relevant because I’m Naoya’s girlfriend… but once that’s gone, I’m sure no one will look my way—"

“That’s not true.” He swiftly interjects.

“…And how would you know that? How would you know that this time, fate wouldn’t be cruel to me, like it has always been?!”

“Because there is someone that cares for you.”

“Let me guess, my parents.”

“No—I didn’t mean them.” Nanami frowns.

“Then who—” you breathe. “Who are you referring to??”

And suddenly, thanks to his softening eyes and growing silence…  something clicks in your mind and all makes sense.

His anger, his protectiveness, his insistence…

There was a reason behind them all, only now does it become clear to you.

“…Why didn’t you say anything?” you softly ask, heart sinking when looking back at the dismissive way you treated him, always standing by your side, and yet…

“Because you seemed happy with Naoya.” Nanami adds. “Perhaps I was at fault too, for not having spoken of my feelings before, but… after seeing the way you smiled with him, I supposed it was for the best if I instead, supported you as a friend.

But because I’m your friend, I can’t allow you to go on thinking no one has ever cared for you. That no one has loved you for who you are… or will never do.

And most importantly, remind you that this—this isn’t what happiness looks like.”

At his open declaration, you couldn’t stop the wave of overwhelming emotions from washing over you, a combination of shock, sadness, and perhaps… longing, wondering what would’ve happened if you knew of his feelings back then.

Would you have accepted them? Or would everything continue as it does now?

Well, one thing is for sure—Nanami would’ve never suggested something like this; the thought wouldn’t even cross his mind!

But it’s too late now. You’ve made your decision and now, you were suffering the consequences…

However, you didn’t have to be alone anymore—and Nanami would reassure you of such by the following words, the same one’s he wished to have told you back then… and possibly save you from all this pain.

“I love you, Y/N. I always did, and I’ll always do. Even if we never see each other again—you’ll always remain in my heart.”

Because he would rather die than to make decisions that hurt you.

Leading you to unwittingly discover what it was to feel loved, for the first time in your life.

A heartwarming sensation, with no strings attached, just… someone that wishes your well-being above everything else, alongside your happiness, and nothing more.

And such, something grows inside you, something that pushes you to be closer to him, far beyond this day—

Coincidentally, he’s also the first one you kiss.

After Nanami’s visit, your days would slowly become brighter, although the grey cloud of Naoya’s seeming infidelity still lingered in the background.

But even then, your mind didn’t dwell on him for long, difficult to do so thanks to Satoru’s, Suguru’s, and now, Nanami’s interventions, as well as Shoko’s advice of enjoying the best of your new status.

The men involved didn’t seem to mind… too much.

Sure, their jealousy would sometimes rise to the occasion (from one person in specific) but as long as you continued to be attentive with them, they were willing to “share”, believing it was only a matter of time before you left that jerk-of-a boyfriend of yours once and for all, settling for on them instead.

Long story short, everything seemed to go on peacefully with your new routine…

Until the sudden appearance of a man you never expected to see, less set his eyes on you, since the only time you’ve seen him was that one instance you became acquainted with him thanks to Naoya’s business, never to speak again, disrupted all you held true.

While you might’ve seen this moment as expendable, forgettable even, to him, it was the fated day he knew he must have you—a growing desire to make you his when the time was right.

Naoya’s stupidity opening that door.

Sukuna was the owner of a rival company, a fierce competitor that always made the Zen’in uneasy whenever mentioned, constantly keeping them on their toes—because with a man as belligerent as him, to let their guard down, if just for the slightest, meant the complete loss of all they’ve worked for.

It’s safe to say that Sukuna had garnered the reputation of being aggressively intimidating, thus it was only right to assume that his approach would be of the same nature.

“I—I can’t” is what little you manage to muster through the fear constricting your throat; you still remember the eeriness you felt when meeting him that one time, never believing it could worsen… until you had him just a few feet away.

“I wasn’t asking.” He responds, the tone in his voice not only highlights his sincerity, but also warns you there won’t be a second chance.

Urging you to do what’s best for you, less…

Perhaps out of fear of experiencing his anger, some kind of retribution, or because deep inside, past your worry and hesitation, you were genuinely intrigued to know what a man like him might’ve found interesting in you… you accept.

Because after all was said and done, he was far different to what you were normally accustomed to…

As well as to willing to bargain for.

You don’t know what it was—maybe it was your blinding intrigue, your desire to taste something way beyond your reach… or because you took Shoko’s words a bit too literally, even though with him, she insisted you to be careful…

You ended up following Sukuna into his apartment; And not only that, but you also let him show you what true desire meant, in more ways than one, sure to never forget.

“Su—Sukuna—!” you’d breathe, whatever little you could muster through the tightening of your chest and the fuzziness of your mind, harshly gripping his arms, as he pushes you over the edge and into your release for what seemed to be the nth time that night. “Sukuna, please—I need—I need a break—”

“No—you will take it!” he groans, holding your waist and keeping you in place as his cock deep into your core, each time harsher than the last one, bruising that spot that always made you see stars over and over again; unexpectedly, a place that Naoya was all too ignorant of, Sukuna being amongst the few, if not the only, to achieve such feat.

No wonder you were reacting the way you were, losing yourself in pleasure, because just as he teased…

“This is the first time you’ve ever been with a real man, isn’t it?” He laughs when feeling you quiver against his hold, feeble against the sensations he’s relentlessly giving you, finding your numbing reaction, eyes rolling to the back of your head, mouth agape, and toes curling… to be quite adorable.

Doing all in his power to get more of this reaction—hopefully, beyond this night too.

“They simply don’t make the cut! —But how could they? With a cunt as lewd as yours, one isn’t enough!”

Sukuna doesn’t find satisfaction in seeing you with other men, less when you’re still “taken”.

But ever the one to seek advantage, even in the most uneven of fields, Sukuna was quick to see the endless possibility this opportunity provided—more than ready to exploit them…

“Don’t—don’t say that!” you’d moan, with such an exciting cry, Sukuna just couldn’t help prolonging this night. “That’s not—that’s not tru—ah!”

And keep you all for himself.

“I don’t want you staying at that hideous apartment anymore.” Sukuna would mutter the moment you opened your eyes; having fallen asleep soon after the strenuous ordeal, and suffering from its aftermath as soon as conscious.

“It’s not… nasty.” You groan, slowly blinking as you look back at him, doing your best to push yourself up from the bed, only to fall back down when resulting too weak to do so. However, even when dealing with the sharp pains across your body alongside unbearable drowsiness, you’re capable enough to defend Shoko. “…It’s a nice place.”

He chuckles.

“Yeah, I’m sure it is.” Sukuna then reaches over to the nearby bedside table, sliding the first drawer open and taking out a pair of keys which he’d give over to you soon after.

You look at it perplexedly, confused as to their meaning… before growing shocked, slumber completely gone from your body when listening the following statement.

“From now on, you’re staying in my apartment.”

“Wh—what?” First that, and now, this? Sukuna meant no joke when it came to you. “No, I can’t accept this!”

“You sure love making me repeat myself, woman.” He scoffs. “It’s not a matter of whether you can or cannot—you will.”

It’s an amazing talent of Sukuna to always sound threatening even when dealing with the most ordinary of things, but either way, you’re not interested in testing how far his limits went, and thus, (not that you had any other option) you accept the keys while silently wondering what the future holds for you by making this decision…

“Uraume will help you move your things. I better see you here when I come back after work—less you wish to be punished again.” He smirks, fingers sliding along your skin before pulling you close to him once more, a whine escaping your lips as you realize what is to transpire next yet again.

Guess you’ll find out soon enough.

…

…

…

As well as what Naoya’s been up to, for the day Sukuna allowed you to, you decide to go back to your shared apartment to pick up a few things to take with… him, now that you’re essentially living together.

It was a very awkward arrangement, if you thought about it, one that Shoko was strictly opposed to, but… well, you would be lying if you didn’t admit you were having a good time (outside of the painful pleasures he pushed you through every night) for a plethora of luxurious reasons. Far nicer than what you were used to seeing with Naoya.

Which you could openly enjoy due to Sukuna’s absence, rarely getting to see him due to work commitments, Uraume representing him instead… not that it was any better, for they were just as awkward as awkward can get.

And yet, not as much as what happened when you walked through the door of your shared apartment with Naoya, welcomed by the one person you did not expect to see there, believing him to be completely enraptured in his new freedom, given the silence he always responded with whenever you texted or called him.

“Naoya?” You asked, although confused, you were more… shocked to see his distraught appearance, almost as if he hadn’t been able to sleep for the last few days—or at all.

“What are you doing here?” you add. “I thought… well, I thought you’d be… somewhere else.”

“I can say the same thing about you.” He frowns. “Is it true that you’re staying with that woman?”

“Her name is Shoko…” you murmur; even when away, Naoya remains…

Either way, given his attention on her, it seems like he doesn’t know about Sukuna, yet.

Or Gojo.

Or Geto.

Or Nanami.

Because if he did, it would’ve been the first thing he mentioned; his jealous nature never one to take as a jest.

Unless…

“But yes, I am staying with her.” You confirm. “What about… you? Where have you been staying?”

… and still, you can’t help but worry for him.

“Here.” He confesses, you blink.

“…Really?” Even when skepticism is evident in your voice, he doesn’t not say anything else. Instead…

“Yes. And… it’s time for you to come back home.”

“Why? What happened?” you fret, naturally fearing the worst…

Which you were right in assuming, just that… it wouldn’t be what you expected.

“You—you had enough fun.” Naoya unwittingly stammers, a scowl on his face, or was it sorrow? As he continued. “It’s time for you to remember you’re mine and come back home.”

“Enough… fun?” You slowly repeat, invertedly hurt by his words, as if he weren’t the one that set up this situation in the first place, yet, still overwhelmingly confused as to what he meant.

Suspicion that perhaps he did know about your flings after all begins to settle in your mind, but it isn’t until his following words that it finally takes roots.

“Don’t hide it, Y/N—I know you’ve seen others. And quite frequently too!”

“You’re… you’re doing the same thing.” You immediately respond, scurrying to defend yourself. “And you don’t see me complaining…”

Even if you wanted so much to do so.

“No, of course not—too busy with them, aren’t you??”

“Excuse me? You’re—You’re one to talk! You never answered any of my texts, or calls!” you gasp. “Do you even know how… how…”

Hurt I was?

Guessing by his absence, you assume not.

… Oh, how you wished Naoya kept silent. Kept his words to himself and went on acting as he always did, because maybe, you wouldn’t have felt this burning anger stirring inside you, created by the reassurance by those around you, the reminder that you were still deserving of being cared for, appreciated.

Far more than what Naoya has ever done for you in the past few years.

That much you see now.

“… Let me get this straight, Naoya… you want me to come back… because you don’t want me to see others, even though you did the same thing??” you say, and by the gloomy look in Naoya’s eyes, you could tell you guessed right, stinging a nerve while in the process.

Yet not a sentiment that insulted him, but rather… reminded him of the shocking truth he’s keeping away from you.

Hoping it stays that way, unless you place the pieces together yourself.

“Do not talk to me like that.” He warns, you frown.

“I’m just stating the truth—you went to see someone as soon as you left that day, didn’t you?”

“That’s not—why does it even matter at this point? You did the same afterwards!”

“Again with that—You were the one that suggested it in the first place!” you gasp. “Why does it bother you so much?? Didn’t you…. Weren’t you encouraging me to it?!”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I expected you to actually—”

Realizing the imprudence of his words, he suddenly goes silent.

“Expected to actually… what?” you frown.

Naoya doesn’t answer, all he does is scoff before looking away.

A few more seconds of silence, something clicks in your mind.

Anger finally taking a hold of your emotions.

Because just how foolish could you have been?

“Please, come back.” Is what Naoya eventually says. “I don’t want an open relationship anymore—let’s just forget about this and… move on.”

“And why would I do that?” you scowl. “Don’t you have other dates to go to?”

…

Silence yet again.

“Naoya?”

“I don’t. I… never did.”

The truth jolts you far more than you imagined, for it completely contradicts all that you once believed to be true, replacing the pain you’d been feeling since that day, the tears, the anger, and all your actions… with nothing.

As if everything you suffered… was void of any true meaning.

But that was only one point of view, you had yet to see Naoya’s. The truth as to why he hadn’t gotten any dates.

Or at least… successful ones.

Naoya did go out with women that caught his interest, having his go-to procedure ready to go when it came to impressing them, such as taken them to an expensive restaurant, gifting them luxurious jewelry, or simply showing off the privilege his family name provided— things he was sure would get him in their pants.

But when he thought it was only a matter of seconds before he got lucky, they would coldly ignore him, turn around, and… disappear.

It was difficult for him to understand why that happened, considering all that he “offered” …

What he failed to realize, though, is that one simple yet big problem stood between him and his ultimate goal: a personality many weren’t willing to tolerate, especially with the intensity he seemed to go on about, no matter the amount of riches he represented.

And soon, it wouldn’t take long before rumors of his personality began to spread into the circles he was involved in, not like it wasn’t happening already beforehand, Naoya was already well-known as a bratty heir with an equally explosive temperament—he just became more… popular.

Rumors he never had issues with, unbothered by them, because you… well, you seemed to not care for them. Willingly tolerating him instead, perhaps far more than he was deserving of, and keeping by his side, no matter what.

Giving him a false sense of confidence.

Unfortunately, he wouldn’t come to realize this until seeing you with someone else—whispers and sightings of your dates, far more successful than any of his attempts, and without even trying, was enough to ignite a fire under his ass and come rushing to you.

Falsely believing it was just a matter of calling it off for everything to return as it was—you by his side, and his blinding jealousy effectively gone. Because only he deserved to have you.

Failing to realize the damage he’s already struck onto this relationship,

Yet, he still came back, shamelessly expecting he’d be received with the forgiveness, compassion and care you unconditionally provided, no matter the gravity of his mistakes…

But what seemed noble, prophetic even, for him—

Was only insulting to you, and when the nature of his actions reveals itself to you, your anger transforms intofury.

Because a man like Naoya shouldn’t have the freedom to openly discard you, and then want you back when things aren’t going his way—without facing consequences.

You were not there to be a steppingstone of sorts, be there through every single step of the road, sacrifice your life… only to be replaced just because he wants.

It was painful, it was unjust…

And it was unpunished.

For him to make it up for you, he’ll have to face the repercussions of his acts, experience just how much you suffered…

Only then, would you consider going back to him.

“I’m sorry, but I have things to do.”

“What?” Naoya’s eyes widen. “What do you mean you have things to do, Y/N? What could you…—you’re going to see someone.”

“And what if I am?” you frown. “I’m not doing anything I’m not allowed to do.”

“I don’t want this anymore!” He gasps. “I don’t want you to see anyone else, just me!”

“…Then you’ll just have to wait until I’m done. Until I’m sure we belong together, you know? You said so yourself, I just need to get it out of my system before I make a decision—” At being served a spoonful of his own medicine, the color in Naoya’s face disappears. “Only then, will I’ll come back.”

If you ever do.

“Y/N—Wait!”

Because after what you have planned for the following weeks, Naoya would only be lucky if you even do as little as think of him.

Shoko is the one that let everyone know of your new "single" life. Except Sukuna, that man has ears everywhere, and when he saw it as his moment, he rose to the occasion. Nice.

Not gonna lie, this idea has been on my mind for a while now, like, as soon as Y/N is single people begin to hound her. Everyoneeeeeeeee Naoya really does not realize the stupidity he committed until it's too late. :)

And there you have it, my take on an open relationship with him! I once read that open relationships don't work, unless you're talking about celebrities, and I'm honestly inclined to accept that...

But yeah, him doing this is like the worst thing Naoya could think of; there's just so many things that could go wrong—safe to say, in another universe 1) Naoya would never suggest it. 2) Y/N would never accept it lol.

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask! I hope it was to your liking :> ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Take care, and hope to see you soon!

[decaying-church]

Slasher Nsfw Headcanons

(a/n: pretend I've been posting constantly this year :))

Pairing : Herbert West x male!reader, Vincent Sinclair x male!reader

Requested by @unspeakableoftheoscarwildesorr : Will you do a nsfw headcannons with vincent sinclaire and herbert west? It’s alright if you don’t want to. Please have a good day :))

Warning: bottom!slashers, top!reader, hair pulling, public play, Vincent's conservative upbringing, Vincent writes smut for you, bondage, mentions of chemical burns, getting caught multiple times (slight exhibitionist Herbert) sorry dan, breeding, aftercare

Characters: Herbert West, Vincent Sinclair

Vincent Sinclair

He likes it when you watch him work, hovering over his shoulder, sometimes leaning on the table next to him. It makes him nervous, his hands fumbling a bit. If you tell him he was doing good and his brain would shut off.

He loves it when you praise him.

He also likes it when you run your hand over his back, whether you're giving him a massage or just feeling clingy he won't be able to focus on anything but you touching him.

Definitely a virgin when you met, but he knows about the general action of sex. Like the thing goes in the thing and then a baby comes out.

An utterly submissive bottom.

Before you met he figured that if he ever did end up having sex then he’d be the one doing all the work, as men do. (mmmh, conservative, yee-haw upbringing)

But then he met you, and he loved you, and you were both men, so his picture of what sex should be was completely shattered.

If you're generally smaller than him, he’ll try and be dominant. It won't work, the second you flirt with him or make a suggestive comment he goes weak in the knees.

He will make a single attempt at being on top before metaphorically throwing his hands up and going “well I tried”.

If your bigger, there is no attempt, there isn't even a thought of dominance, you were bigger- stronger, therefore you could do whatever you wanted to him and he would not complain (he will never tell you this because he knows you’d tell him otherwise but it honestly added an extra layer of excitement to everything)

The town is pretty empty so the two of you could essentially fuck anywhere.

You once joked about fucking in the middle of the road- and even though you were just joking, the thought of you holding him down on the old road, in front of all those houses, fucking him without a hint of modesty or secrecy genuinely plagued his dreams for several nights.

In reality, you’ve fucked in the gas station, in the movie theater, in the church, and in (or in more risky cases, against) the various houses around town.

Personally, I believe Vincent can talk, he’s just severely traumatized and doesn’t do it often, most days he communicates though groans, gestures, and forms of writing or drawing.

So, sometimes, when he wants you to try someone very specific with him, something too specific for him to say out loud, partially because of humiliation, but also because speaking was difficult for him, he will write it.

And not simple sentences either, he will go on and on about what he wants you to do to him, he’ll draw pictures, he’ll rant on for pages and pages.

The first time he did this you nearly read it out loud, you got about half a sentence in before realizing that no one else (especially Lester, who was just in the next room) needed to hear what he’d written for you.

Of course, with a set of quite specific instructions, you were able to make his every fantasy come true.

Vincent can genuinely go forever, round after round after round.

After years of being a recluse, he has a limit for how long he can go without some kind of stimulation.

Really, finally having someone who wants him and loves him above everybody else makes it a bit harder to continue the streak of celibacy he had before.

He can go about two weeks before he starts outright begging you to fuck him. Again, in great detail.

He doesn't have any prior experience so you'll have to teach him quite a few things.

The first time he asked you to tie him up he brought you some old ratty rope that would have torn his skin the moment things got too intense.

You have to ride out of tow a couple of times for supplies.

He is heartbroken every single time you leave, he always half expects you to just keep driving and never come back.

You always come back, much to Bo’s, who has to put up with Vincent being agiant baby whenever you leave, relief.

(if you ever actually leave Vincent, Bo will hunt you down. Despite everything he does love his brother)

He has a pretty average set of kinks, he likes being praised, tied up, and fucked within an inch of consciousness. He like it when you pull his hair and call him pretty, he likes getting fucked in places he shouldn’t, and he likes it when you leave marks on him.

Aftercare fiend, he’s not a pillow princess but you’d think he was with the way that he’d just lay there, fully fucked out, waiting for you to take care of him.

If you’re someplace where you can’t fully take care of him, (I.e. any other place you’ve fucked outside of your bedroom) he will become extremely flustered. Because that means he has to travel however far away you are from your bedroom in this state. And you could be several houses away or just a couple rooms away but he doesn’t consider either to be more or less embarrassing.

The state he’s in could varies depending on what you did, he could just have ruffled hair and messy clothes, or he could be walking around with a limp with every inch of visible skin covered in bruises.

Herbert West

A very busy man that doesn't like being interrupted while working.

That being said, he will sit on your cock while he's working.

He’ll tease you, act like he’s ready to get his back blown out against his desk, only for him to keep you inside while he works, shifting every so often, fully ignoring how hard he was in favor of chemicals and mildly unethical plans.

You might be able to fully pull him away from work if you give him an explicit rundown of all of the things you were going to do to him.

It'll distract him to the point that he just gives up, grabbing you by the shirt and pulling you in for a kiss.

Most of your “interactions” in his lab were just the two of you humping like animals on the nearest flat surface, which could be anything, a desk, the floor, the wall.

The two of you had so many chemical burns that could have been avoided simply by moving to his bedroom, you think the two off you would learn your lesson after the first time- you didn’t.

Herbert did not care what Dan heard or saw.

This was his house too after all. He could fuck wherever he wanted.

You’ve be caught by Dan an embarrassing amount of times.

Herbert from time to time will treat you like an experiment.

Don’t be surprised if he strips you down and asks to run some “test”

Herbert really, really likes oral.

He loves it when you guide him, one hand in his hair, slowly pulling him back and forth on your cock.

He is not immune to pet names.

Honey, baby, sweetheart, darling. The list goes on.

While he certainly likes those names, nothing captures his attention quite like you calling him “doctor”

This would be extremely inconvenience if you also worked at the hospital (the number of quickies had in closets/labs/bathrooms is downright disposable)

If you don't, you do it purely to tease him.

Leaning in close, telling him all the disgusting things you want to do to him, then just, “come on, Doctor West, don't you think you deserve a break?”

Herbert is definitely a switch with a preference for power bottoming.

He's in control while also getting fucked sideways, it's perfect for him.

When he is feeling fully submissive he will beg you to breed him.

He knows he can't necessarily be bred, but he likes the feeling of you cumming in him over and over.

Every position he likes, he likes for a very specific reason.

He likes missionary because he can leave marks all over your back, he likes being bent over the table so he has something to rest against when his legs inevitably gave out, he liked getting fucked on the wall because he liked how frantic and desperate it felt.

He will not flirt or try and sugarcoat what he wants, he doesn't care who hears, if he wants you to fuck him, he's going to tell you.

Herbert says he doesn’t like slow sex, but there’s been a couple of times when he hits a road block with his research and he’s frustrated and overwhelmed by everything and everyone and he just wants you to make it better.

You can’t necessarily help with the research but you could help him relax.

The way he reacts to aftercare changes drastically throughout your relationship.

When you first got together, he didn’t want you near him, don’t touch him, don’t talk to him, don’t look at him. Even though his legs were shaking violently and his body felt like it was on fire he insisted that he could handle everything himself.

There was somehow always water and food for him though, he figured it was a coincidence (leave him alone, his brain isn’t working at full capacity at the moment)

Further into you’re relationship he will definitely still be a brat about it, but less so. He’ll let you clean him, feed him, praise him. And on some of the more intense days, you’re gonna be carrying him around like a princess.

He “hates it”, but the moment you try and leave him to fend for himself, he gets even more irritated.

If it’s one of those days where you’re both bone tired afterwards then he’ll let you cuddle with him, he won’t initiate it, but he’ll enjoy it .

Kinktober 2023

[deathbxnny]

Can i request for JJK HCs of Yuta, Yuji, and Megumi with a Huohuo (from HSR) like reader? I was inspired by Huohuo trailer where she gets possessed by Tail and exorcised a spirit with a technique that reminds me of the Domain Expansion from JJK.

Context:

So the reader accidentally became a vessel for a powerful cursed spirit (which is tail) when they were 6 years old. Immediately, they were taken in custody by the Tokyo Jujutsu High. Like Yuji and Yuta, they were at first planned to be executed but thankfully Gojo stepped in and ensure they do not receive that fate (they're a child for God sake) and put them under his care.

Now they are 13 years old and are now beginning to go to the field because of their abilities which are the same ones Huohuo has in game and also they can exorcise cursed spirits when Tail possess them (with consent) like during Huohuo's trailer

Now how do those three react to meeting the reader and realized they are a crybaby and pretty young and why the hell is a child is on the field rn??? (The elders forced it, despite Gojo doing everything he could)

How do those three react that despite being young and a scaredy cat, the reader is actually pretty strong?

How do those three react to seeing Tail being mean to the reader and it being crystal clear that he does care for them like a father?

I remembered you saying that despite not doing any HSR request, readers who are based on HSR characters for request on other fandoms were still acceptable. If i remembered wrong, sorry 😅, you can just ignore this request or put it in the pending waitlist. Hope you have a good day/night though

- Flower Anon 🌸

Hello flower Anon!! Sorry that this took so long to complete. Work has been torturing me as usual, so yeah, please forgive me. I really love this request, though, especially as it has Yuta in it, who's one of my favorites, lol.

Also, these are technically not headcanons and just small stories for the characters, but I've been desperate to write more, so I hope that's okay with you and that you'll like them!!<33

Content: Platonic relationships, preteen reader, mentions of battles, cursing, kinda unserious, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns!

((Not proofread))

》YUTA OKKOTSU

Yuta was a little bewildered at first when he saw a kid shakily appear onto the battlefield, clearly scared and terrified of the curses that surrounded them. He opened his mouth to tell you to get away and hide, when suddenly a curse in the form of a tail swished into view behind you, clearly annoyed at how you were acting.

"They're not going to exorcize themselves, you know? Get it together and attack them already!" It hissed, making you whimper and quickly wave your flag in terror when a curse attempted to injure you. The tail curse then suddenly posessed you quicker than Yuta could move to save you. Its energy was so strong, however, that it made the teen freeze in surprise. One swipe of your hand essentially disintegrated the curse on the spot.

"Just... who are you?" Yuta asked carefully, arms crossed patiently for answer, when you two got out of the danger zone. You nervously fidgeted under his gaze and went to speak when Mr. Tail beat you to it quite rudely. "Why does it matter to you? The kid got enough to deal with because of you weirdos, so give them a break." He said, making the older boy raise a brow in interest. It seemed like you two had something in common, even if Rika's care for Yuta was alot... kinder, if you could say that.

On your walk back to the school, you told him all about your origins and what got you here in the first place. At the sound of the elders having a hand in this, he couldn't help but sigh. That wasn't all too surprising somehow. He was just glad that the curse you were posessed by seemed to genuinely care for you, despite his uncaring and rude attitude.

"Well... if you want, I can help train you-" "-Absolutely not!-" "-Mr. Taillll!" At your exasperated, teary eyed plea, the curse couldn't help but roll his eyes and give in anyways. "Fine... but no funny business, got it?" Yuta gave you a playful and amused smile as he raised his arms in faux defeat.

"I wouldn't dare to."

》YUJI ITADORI

Yuji tried dragging you off the battlefield before you could even show off your abilities, thinking you were simply a lost child, until Mr. Tail eventually was sick of your one-sided arguing in which you were just nervously trying to stutter out the reason for your appearance, whilst the pink haired sorcerer attempted to "scold" you for being there. "Ey you! Let the damned kid go!" He yelled out, making both of you pause.

Shivering in fear, you quickly tried to make up excuses, considering that you've heard more than enough from Yuji and the curse he was a vessel for. But Mr. Tail clearly didn't care enough. "Huh?? Woah, your tail can speak?? Wait, you have a tail-" "-I'm a curse, dumbass!" Yuji blinked before a bright grin crossed his face. "Oh wow! So we're both possessed by a rude curse? Haha, we have so much in common already!" You attempt to smile back shakily but were clearly too anxious to keep it up for long. Especially when you were still surrounded by evil curses practically waiting to attack you.

"Well, anyways, you look pretty young, so you can't be the backup Gojo talked about..." "U-uhm... actually, we are the backup..." "Oh... that's cool then! Show me what you got!" Mr. Tail deadpanned in annoyance, absolutely over this already, as he simply possessed you and took care of the enemy curses himself.

Once he was done doing so, and he finally let you return to normal, Yuji clapped his hand with a determined and proud nod. "Man, we're such a good team, you know?" Mr. Tail felt a vaij pop then as he narrowed his eyes in agitation. "You didn't even do anything!" "Yes, I did! You just weren't looking-" "Oh you little-" The rest of the walk was filled with the two bickering with a teary-eyed and trembling you stuck in the middle.

At least you gained an unlikely friend who was just like you... kind of-

》MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

Megumi already knew and heard about you long before you entered the battle zone. Gojo had been the one who told him of you, asking him to keep an eye out in case you couldn't handle it anymore due to your rather anxious nature. But what he didn't except was how young you actually were. Raising a brow and crossing his arms, he looked at your shaky form in front of him, which was clearly doing everything it could to not look him in the eyes.

"So... You're the backup?" "Uhm... yes...?" "Hm." Despite knowing that the elders forced you to come here, he still didn't feel too confident or good about this. Sending a child onto a suicide mission was on brand for them, however, so he supposed that being very surprised would be wrong too. It was unfortunately expected.

"What the hell are you looking at them like that for?" The curse that you introduced as Mr. Tail hissed out harshly, obviously very unamused by the entire situation himself. Shrugging, Megumi simply shoved his hands into his pockets before turning to enter the building your mission would take place in. "Nothing. I just don't think they should join, if they're scared." He said, referencing the tears that were about to spill from your eyes, including the clear trembling of your body in fear. You absolutely didn't want to be here. Not that he could blame you.

"But... I have to. Otherwise, the elders will..." You trailed off, head hanging low as you found yourself unable to finish that grimm sentence. Megumi paused in his step, head turning slightly to look back at your defeated form. You were strong, far stronger than most were at your age. And your predicament reminded him of a certain friend of his.

Sighing, he scratched his head in speaking up again and continuing on his way. "Fine. Come with me, but stay close and only use your cursed technique when I tell you to." You looked up in surprise and followed after him quickly, feeling somewhat grateful despite the terror that he gave you and Mr. Tail a chance after all.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

reading update: july 2024

full disclosure: I started out July in a bit of a mental lurch, really feeling stuck in a rut. there are a lot of reasons for that, absolutely none of which need to be shared with the general populace of tumblr dot com, but suffice to say that I was feeling listless and reading was not a high priority. I was pretty content to accept that this was going to be another month where I didn't finish a lot of books. I was too busy for most of June, and now too unfocused and bummed out in July.

and then that ended up not being the case. I think I can chalk that up to three things:

very early in the month I realized that none of the reading I had been planning on getting to was grabbing my interest at all, so I did something drastically different: picked up a YA memoir that I bought at pride on the recommendation of a bookseller. not my usual kind of reading at all, but YA is very readable and memoirs grab me fast because I'm nosy, so I figured it might be great for getting out of a rut. and boy, was I right!

Akwaeke Emezi also has a new novel out, and if you don't know then please note now that I'm a person second and an Akwaeke Emezi fan first. their newest novel was a sinister joyride, non-stop twists and turns that I couldn't put down until I saw the characters through to their bitter ends.

and, of course, over in the Dungeon Meshi manga I got to Mithrun. I've only had Mithrun for a couple of chapters, but if anything happened to him I'd kill everyone in this dungeon and then myself. even if I hadn't been able to read anything else, that would have kept me running back to the library for more Dungeon Meshi.

all of which added up to a fairly voracious appetite for books being reignited in my brain, and my second most book-heavy month of the year so far (still haven't beat May, but there's time). sick!

so - what have I been reading?

Delicious in Dungeon Vol. 7-10 (Ryoko Kui, trans. Taylor Engel, 2019-2022) - mannnnn I know I'm not saying anything that hasn't been said elsewhere, but Dungeon Meshi is so. fucking good. the way that Kui starts to raise the stakes of the story and grow the world beyond the core band of adventurers is so conscientious and well-done, timed perfectly so it never feels like having an undercooked heap of fantasy exposition thrown at you all at once. instead everything proceeds at a perfect simmer, leaving me feeling like the frog in that pot of boiling water who didn't notice how dire things had gotten until it was very suddenly too late and I was screaming bloody murder at a book. things have gotten so dire that I'm yearning for the days when fighting a red dragon was our biggest problem - and yet, through it all, every character remains rendered with humanity and compassion, no matter how scary, dangerous, or outright alien they first appear. I'm not naming any spoilers, but I need [REDACTED] to fix shit ASAP in Vol. 11 and [SUPER REDACTED] is on my shitlist fucking forever. also Mithrun sweetie you're perfect, do as many crimes as you want.

Heart and Hand (Rebel Carter, 2019) - my romance novel of the month, as picked by my lovely patreonites! this self-published historical romance promised some messy f/m/m, following a biracial (half Black, half white) young lady, Julie Baptiste, as she responds to a marriage ad that takes her out west to the fictional town of Gold Sky, Montana. Julie's sort of a standard historical heroine - she doesn't care for the silliness of high society and vastly prefers the company of books, looking forward to becoming Gold Sky's schoolteacher - but her marriage has a twist: rather than marrying one man, she's agreed to marry two, a pair of friends who have been inseparable since they served together in the Civil War. this book is charming, for sure, but I can't help be more intrigued by what isn't there than what is, namely: are these men having sex with each other or not? Rebel? hey, Rebel? why is there no DP in this two husbands mail order bride book? that was, like, he bare minimum that I expected. for the love of god, why did those men never put both of their dicks inside Julie at the same time? why did we spend so much time on emotional conflict that could be easily resolved if anyone just talked to each other when Julie's two beautiful husbands could have been having sex in front of her? HELLO?

also, listen, this is such a nitpick, but I am FROM Montana and it feels personal: I know that the general poverty of frontier life isn't sexy, but god these people are WAY too well off. at one point Julie enjoys some fucking BANANAS, something that I goddamn assure you were not easy to come by in late 19th century Montana. a banana. as fucking if.

All Boys Aren't Blue (George M. Johnson, 2020) - as is proudly advertised on the back cover of my copy, in recent years All Boys Aren't Blue has been the second most-challenged book in America behind Maia Kobabe's Gender Queer. reading through All Boys Aren't Blue it was initially hard to see what exactly was so objectionable, until I realized that a queer Black person living their life with compassion and joy is the scariest thing some of these motherfuckers can possibly imagine. Johnson writes about their life growing up in the nexus of racism, homophobia, and masculinity with wisdom and endless compassion, directly addressing young people who may find themselves in similar positions to offer them assurance that they, too, can be okay. more than anything, All Boys Aren't Blue is a plea for young people to live their lives without fear and shame. it's a beautiful blessing of a book that I hope brings comfort to every innumerable kids who need it.

Little Rot (Akwaeke Emezi, 2024) - how do I even begin to describe Little Rot? definitely not for those who feel squeamish about sex crimes, I guess that's an important place to start. this novel starts with the breakup of a long-term Nigerian couple, Kalu and Aima, and follows both of them into a weekend that starts with drugs and sex parties and spirals increasingly out of control from there, drawing more and more characters into a complicated snarl of money and power. Little Rot has the seedy, lurid draw of an episode of SVU if SVU ever grew up and realized that cops don't do shit, reveling in the nastiest that Emezi's imagined city of New Lagos has to offer. cannot say this book is for everyone - few of Emezi's novels are - but god, it's a thrilling study in corruption.

The Persistent Desire: A Femme-Butch Reader (editor Joan Nestle, 1992) - this is a massive and fascinating historical document, assembled by Nestle as part of her work with the Lesbian Herstory Archives. within this collection are letters, interviews, academic essays, poems, and transcribed oral histories from all manner of self-identified butch and femme lesbians. while some of the contributors are recognizable names in the history of American queer activism (including Pat Califa, who's a bisexual trans man now lmao), others are women who were just trying to live their lives with as much authenticity, comfort, and dignity as was possible in their time. (although, notably, the vast majority of these women are white, and all but a very few are Americans. racial and cultural diversity is not one of the collection's strong suits.)

the personal narratives span all over the twentieth century, and I was really delighted to see the very frank discussions of what would be written off as "bad representation" by a lot of queer resources today: butches overdosing on toxic masculinity and getting in messy bar brawls, femmes committing outlandish acts of adultery, lesbian sexual awakenings taking place between fairly young children, and one extremely memorable instance of a butch getting unexpectedly pregnant and decided to do a little sex work on the side since she couldn't get more pregnant than she already was. I was particularly fascinated by the many, many accounts of "second wave" self-identified lesbian feminists who tried to do away with butch/femme identities and "politically incorrect" expression of lesbian sexuality altogether (that's everything but mutual cunnilingus, btw) in pretty eerie echoes of contemporary radfem arguments. at close to 500 pages it's definitely better suited to skimming and stopping to read whatever catches your attention rather than trying to read cover to cover, but I think this is a really invaluable piece of history.

American Mermaid (Julia Langbien, 2023) - this was a novel, for sure. American Mermaid is a novel about a broke, anxious high school teacher named Penelope whose novel, also called American Mermaid, is a runaway success that gets optioned for film. Penelope quits her teaching job and moves across the country to Hollywood to work on the script with two dude bros who don't really Get what American Mermaid is about, and set to work turning Penelope's weird, unsexy female empowerment novel into an MCU-style action romp with a hot young lead. the novel's strongest when it's deep in the spirals of Penelope's frantic mind, probing the conflict between her fairly desperate need for cash (she wants to be financially independent of her conservative father, she has good reason to suspect breast cancer is in her future, she wants to start a family someday) and the artistic affront she feels at watching her story be disrespected and dismantled. where it's weaker is in the extensive chapters of the story-within-a-story; while useful for context, I straight up didn't need to read that much of Penelope's novel. and the plot overall kind of felt like it fell off the rails near the end once Langbien finishes making her point about how Hollywood sucks. it's not bad, but it's also just... fine. it's fine!

How to Taste: A Guide Discovering Flavor and Savoring Life (Mandy Naglich, 2023) - how do I put this so nicely? this book is for people who are kind of dork ass losers about food, a group that I do very much count myself as a part of. I first became acquainted with Naglich's work when she appeared on a podcast called the Sporkful, which claims that it is "not for foodies, it's for eaters." I'm a fairly devout listener, and after listening to Naglich describe her efforts to become a master cicerone (one of the world's most elite beer tasters, a distinction that is taken Very Fucking Seriously) I thought sure, whatever, that's a book I can get behind. Naglich is maybe a big more entertaining as a podcast guest than a nonfiction author. in places the book can be dry or roughly constructed in a way that suggests another pass by an editor or maybe a co-writer would have helped. and straight up, there are just weird fucking typos in this book that are like. crazy to me, I cannot believe they got through. the cheap-ass cover art also suggests this was not exactly a high budget production.

but having been very mean about it, there are a lot of extremely interesting tidbits about the world of professional tasting here! it sounds awful and you couldn't pay me to do it, but here's the cool thing: Naglich is extremely aware that what she does is insane and she knows that the average reader doesn't want to learn how to identify where a coffee bean was grown just by sniffing the bean from across a room. what she offers instead are really approachable ways to be more conscientious about how you interact with and appreciate food! and she also shares some really cool info about tasting snobbery that IS bullshit, to help you sort out the stuff that actually matters and emphasize that fun and personal taste ultimately trump any "rules." it's a very dorky book but I, personally, did have a good time.

Sex Criminals Vol 3: Three the Hard Way (Matt Fraction and Chip Zdarsky, 2016) - every time I read another volume of Sex Criminals I find myself thinking "man, hang on, do I ever actually like Sex Criminals? am I enjoying this?" but then I end up placing a hold on the next one. I don't know, it's charming! it's like so very VERY 2010s in its dialogue, by which I mean it's like. you know. it's giving Joss Whedon before we all found out how bad he sucked and collectively booed him. but man, I love a story that's down to get weird, and Sex Criminals is sooooo about being weird. and yet also very normal where sex is concerned! considering this is a series all about people having freaky world-altering powers that activate when they cum, sex is treated as an incredibly ordinary thing, warts and all. I like that! I like seeing that! idk, I don't need every comic to be perfect, as evidenced by the fact that I'm actively enjoying Azrael: Angel of the Bat. sometimes the vibes are just good.

[888-fr]

What are some of your favorite skins you've made?

I thought about the answer to this question for a very long time. I want to tell you a story about a skin that broke the site.

(I think this has been fixed now, which is the only reason I'm posting about it.)

Up until around March of this year, skin names weren't sanitized. I wasn't aware of this and continued to be unaware of this until the day I asked for my Valentine's pearlcatcher skins (named <3 and </3 respectively) to be renamed. Special characters often break when you submit them through the queue, so you have to go and ask the mods in the skroblems thread to fix apostophes for you so they display properly. I went and asked them to fix my pearlcatcher skin's names for me, since they weren't displaying correctly either. This lead, by accident, to the most interesting way I've gotten the site to break in a while.

My friend noticed first when they got a subscribed notification to my skin shop thread. They realized there were two pages that were completely gone.

Then they realized that the front page didn't look right either. My catalogue posts had completely vanished. Only to find... when you hovered over the thumbnail of the </3 skin's icon, my posts had hopped into the item description.

We experimented a little more before realizing this thing was... very, very powerful! You could put the skin into a den tab description, and it would put every single dragon in that tab into the space of the description box. You could break your userpage for ANYBODY on site. Your entire dragon could get swallowed up if you put it into their bio. And because the skin deleted the edit button, you couldn't get it back out.

Little did I know, the </ part of the skin name - when posted using [skin=skinid] or [item=skin: </3] - would act as an HTML tag anywhere it was posted, and completely mess up how the site displayed! I compiled everything I found and sent it into the bug forums and the contact team box for review. The thread got deleted almost immediately, confirming what I suspected: skin names aren't sanitized, and this could very easily be exploited with malicious intentions or SQL injects.

Luckily, they fixed it pretty quickly! I hope the way the site handles skin names has been updated now too. This sort of thing wouldn't have happened even if I had named the skin </3 or, god forbid, dropTable(); in the first place. I do think it was because I had the mods go in and edit the skin name that allowed the unclosed </ to display in the skin's item icon and then break the site.

So that's the story of one of my favorite skins I've made! <3 and </3 are now LOVE and LOVE(LESS) respectively. The designs themselves didn't sell too well, but for a glorious 16 hours, they contained all the power of little nuclear bombs detonating on various HTML-dependent sitepages.

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

David Tennant and Michael Sheen on The One Show 10.7.2023 ❤ :)

(also there Zoe Saldana and Nicole Kidman, and Alex Jones and Jermaine Jenas as interviewers :))

Int1: Well, this is lovely for Wednesday, isn't it?

David: It's a lovely way to spend a Monday night, innit?

Zoe: I was excited to see you both.Likewise.

Int1: Now, Good Omens. I mean, people love the first series. It's back for a second. If there's anybody watching who didn't see the first one, they don't know what we're talking about. Go on, Michael. Fill them in.

Michael: I play an angel on Earth to do angel things.

David: I play a demon. I'm Hell's emissary on Earth.

Michael: And we decide that it's a lot easier if we team up because it saves on shoe leather. So we come to an arrangement, and then we realize that we actually quite like it on Earth, and we don't really want to deal with our respective head offices. And in season one, we save the world from the apocalypse. Season two...

David: And get excommunicated by our respective...

Michael: Yes. Exactly. So season two picks up. We're now...

David: We're at liberty.

Michael: Yeah. I'm in my bookshop, having lovely meals and watching lovely shows and hanging out with my best buddy here.

David: I'm living in my car, unfortunately, becausemy apartment came with a job.

Michael: And then John Ham turns up naked at mybookshop in Soho one day with no memory. And so the mystery begins. Int2: The plot twist. We know we've got a clip.

Nicole: I don't understand why he's [Jon Hamm] not on the couch.

Michael: Well, exactly. Nor me. I think everyone's asking the same thing.

David: Apparently it's a BBC rule you have to be clothed, so he was having none of it.

Int1: Yeah, that would push Monday over the edge. Let's see the clip.

Int2: Let's see the clip.

[familiar trailer plays, nothing new there]

Michael: When I said that line in the scene [I think I may have just started a war.], I knew it would be in the trailer. Do you know when you sometimes go, yeah, this is a trailer, and I got really nervous .I couldn't do it. Doing it over and over again.

Nicole: Well, I'm looking for something to watch. I'm watching that.

Zoe: Yes.

Int2: I like how you were like, yeah, that's the one.

Michael: On 28th.

Zoe: Okay, you watch ours and we watch yours.

Michael: Deal. We're in. We're in.

David: Yes, very good, very good.

Int1: Beautiful. This is the thing, at the heart of Good Omens is this unlikely friendship between you two, but in real life so you filmed it, you didn't know each other, and then they clicked. Look at them. They joined at the hip. They do everything...

Michael: It's true.

Int1: You even had babies at the same time.

Michael: We did.

Int1 [to David]: Your wife posted this picture of you two leaving the hospital.

David: Look how in tune we are with each other.

Michael: And now those two little babies are nearly four, and they send each other little video messages. Yeah.

David: Well, they're babies of the pandemic, so that's how they think everyone communicates.

Michael: Exactly.

Int1: Is then when you went on to do Staged together?

Michael: Yeah.

Int1 [to Zoe and Nicole]: Have you seen that?

Zoe: No.Wait a minute. What are you guys doing on stage right now? Like a tour or something?

David: No, no it's a show .

Michael: It was a TV series called Staged that we did over Zoom. So we could work from our own houses.

David: Yeah.

Michael: We've done three series.

Nicole: They're extremely clever.

Zoe: That's insane. I have to watch it.

Int2: Now, Michael, apparently you turned down the opportunity to play David's character. Arguably got a better wardrobe. Is it something that you're regretting right now?

Michael: He gets all the best clothes. No. Neil Gaiman, who wrote the book that it's based on with Terry Pratchett. I've been friends with Neil for years, and so when we first started talking about the project yeah. We sort of both kind of, for some reason, assumed that I would play this one character, and then as he started writing the scripts, I was like, that's not the character. I'm not going to play that. So I felt kind of bad about saying that to Neil, and Neil was sort of feeling, because he was thinking thesame thing, feeling bad about saying it to me. So it all came out and then eventually it made way for the Tennant to emerge.

Int1: And he came in his lovely outfit.

Michael: Yeah. And his slinky hips.

...

Int2: David.You're returning to Doctor Who. We had Catherine Tate on a couple of weeks ago.

David: Oh, yes.

Int2: o we spoke to her about it all. Now, she said it was like slipping back into a comfy pair of slippers. Was it the same for you?

David: Yeah. I mean, 15 years is quite a long time. And you do worry you won't be able to runf ast enough anymore, but...

Int1: Is it 15 years ago?

David: 15 years.

Int1: It's not, David, it can't be.

David: You're a lot older than you think you are.

Michael: I was only five when... I remember the David Tennant. I was just a little nipper.

Int2: On the Doctor Who subject. Watching... that's what inspired yo uas a child, wasn't it? Watching Doctor Who.

David: Yeah.

...

Int2: Good Omens Series Two on the 28 July on Prime Video and you can catch all three series of stage on IPlayer.

...

Int1: Let's say Nadoli Llawen.

Nicole: Yeah. [Tries]

Int1: Nadoli Llawen. Merry Christmas in Welsh.

Michael: Very good.

Int1: Michael, you can verify this. I mean, even the both of us are from South Wales, and even within 20 minutes car Journey, there'll be different dialects...

Michael: Within streets! Streets! Yeah, you can tell where someone comes from, which end of town people come from. [to Int1] I know which end of town you come from.

Int1: Say no more.

Michael: It's always been very clear, Alex.

Int1: Always very clear.

[gloomysoup]

@steddieangstyaugust day 3 | prompt: "the sunset looks lovely, don't you think?" | rating: g | word count: 618 | tags: major character death, grief | ao3

sunsets and lemon blueberry cake

“The sunset looks lovely, don't you think?”

Eddie sat on the threadbare picnic blanket at the top of the hill. His voice was quiet, so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere. There was no response. He never expected one.

“It's been five years, you know,” he said to no one in particular. “Today, actually. I still find it kind of hard to believe.

Still, no reply. The wind blew gently through the trees, picking up a few of Eddie’s curls. He figured that was enough of an answer.

“Dustin called to check on me this morning. I told him I was fine. Robin called too, but I told her a little more of the truth. It's still hard. I woke up this morning thinking you'd be in the kitchen making coffee like you always used to. Obviously, you weren't.” Eddie sighed, watching the sun slowly sink lower on the horizon below. “Robin wanted to be here, but she's got this new PhD student on staff. Says he has a lot of potential, but needs a little more guidance. She couldn't get away from work to be here. She said she was sorry, but I told her it was fine. It is fine, though. I know she'd be here if she could. I told her you'd understand.”

Eddie took a deep breath and reached for the box he’d brought from the car. He opened it, pulling out a small cake. “I know it's silly, but I brought your cake. Tradition, right? I'm still not sure I'm really celebrating anything, but it didn't feel right not to bring one. Lemon blueberry, right? I still don't know how you eat this shit.”

A sad smile pulled at Eddie’s lips as he stared down at the cake. It was a small, circular cake. Not big at all, but he didn't need anything fancy. Most of it would probably get tossed anyway. It was simple. No words across the top. He wasn't sure what there was to say. This wasn't really an anniversary worth celebrating, especially one worth mentioning to the stranger at the bakery, but he always brought a cake anyway. Lemon blueberry. Steve's favorite.

“I didn't realize it until the other day, but I'm starting to forget your voice. I wish I had some way to remember. I miss it. I miss your laugh, too.”

The wind blew again, a little harder that time. If he listened hard enough, Eddie could almost hear it. Steve’s voice.

“I miss you a lot,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “Every day. Some more than others. I wish you were here. Lucas’s little girl is almost three now. I know you would've loved to meet her. I'm supposed to leave in two weeks to visit. It won't quite line up with her birthday, but it's the closest I could get with work. Too many appointments, and I don't want to have to reschedule. The shop’s doing well, though. I've been thinking about taking on an apprentice, maybe adding a piercer or two. I don't know. I've never been very good at all the business stuff. Not like you.”

The sun was almost gone. Eddie sat in silence. The minutes stretched on. Eddie grabbed the plastic fork he'd brought, poking into the cake. He took a bite, wrinkled his nose, and took another. He never did understand what Steve liked about it. Maybe he never would. That wouldn't stop him from trying.

The stars began sparkling overhead, reds and oranges fading to blues and purples. Eddie sighed and closed the box, sealing the cake away. He looked to his left, smiling sadly at the tombstone that rested there.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Always.”

[madwomansapologist]

Hi. Can you write a smut scene between the female reader and my favorite Disney character, Captain Hook from Disney’s Peter Pan 1953 original film that starts with love at first sight please? I have a serious fangirl crush on him.

hooked by you | captain hook

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Captain Hook | AO3

synopsis: It happened. It finally happened. Hook defeated Peter Pan. He saw the silhouette flying above the clouds, readied the modified harpoon that fired a net, and finally managed to catch him! Little did he knew it wasn't Peter Pan.

warnings: DarlingSister!reader. female!reader. porn with plot. love at first sight. mention of erotic literature. that man is possessive. guns. chats about murder.

note: Thanks for your request, darling! I watched it again to write this, and I've just realized it's been almost eight years since I last saw Peter Pan. It was fun. And you made me realize I don't have normal pure thoughts about Hook. Like if I needed another character to be obsessed with. Hope you like it!

After so much screaming and arguing, George and Mary finally left the house. You waved, wished them a good night, and locked the front door. What a mess. All that fuss because of a character from a bedtime story.

You went upstairs and opened the door to your sibilings' room, but the three of them were already asleep. You knew that Wendy didn't want to leave the children's room, you thought that if you talked to her that fear could be eased, but she was already sighing. Maybe tomorrow.

You entered your room and changed into your pearly nightgown. You saw your parents entering a cabriole from the wide window. When they disappeared, you ran into the backyard and released Nana from the leash.

Tomorrow you'll sort it out with your dad. George can be furious, your mom word it as passionate, but deep down he's the most caring father you could wish for. George is always barking, never biting.

And your night would have ended there if you hadn't looked up. You should have seen a starry night. A full moon. But you saw your brothers. Flying.

That's it. You went crazy. Mad. Lunatic.

"Peter, wait!" Michael cry out. "You forgot one sister!"

"Michael?" You shuddered. Insane. Completely insane. "Michael, is that you?"

"Wait a second!" Michael waved the teddy bear at you and disappeared into the sky. After a infinite second, he appeared with something glowing in his hand and flew towards you. "Think happy thoughts," he instructed you.

Then a glittering dust fell on you. You coughed and tried to clear yourself. Crazy. Completely crazy. When you looked down, you saw the ground. Which would be normal. If it wasn't too far away.

Michael took your hand. "I told you Peter Pan existed!"

"Oh. My God." You shouted. "Oh. My God." You were flying! Flying. No. No, you weren't. You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and emptied your mind. When you opened your eyes, you saw the Big Ben. From above. "Oh. My. God."

"Don't be scared." Michael gave you two pats on the back. The same you do when he wakes up from a nightmare. He gave you his teddy bear. You hold onto it like it would protect you from anything. "We are going to Neverland!"

Then Michael flew again. You got to see John and Wendy flying up ahead, along with who could only be Peter Pan. You tried to follow them, but flying was a lot harder than the three of them made it out to be.

It was just a really realistic dream. Just that. A good dream about flying with your siblings.

Hugging the teddy bear, you slowly followed them. You passed chimneys, climbed through clouds, stood over the hands of Big Ben: always a few minutes late in comparison to them. But in the end, even with a lot of fear, you did follow them towards the Second Star to the Right.

Seeing Neverland, you felt butterflies in your stomach. It wasn't madness, it wasn't a dream, it was true. When the four stopped on a cloud, you thought you finally caught up with them.

Then something hit you.

It got tangled up in your body, heavy enough to make you fall. A net pulling you into the sea. You tried to fly, you tried to let go, but the more you moved the more you got tangled up in it.

The net was heavy, pulling you down, but it wasn't a sudden fall. You just couldn't go up. Which didn't mean it was comfortable. Yards and yards of fabric tangled up on you, just weighing you down.

A whirlwind of voices showed you that people were approaching, but you couldn't see anything. You just felt the impact against what must have been the ground. It didn't hurt, but it felt weird to stop flying.

"Finally, Mr. Smee, I will take care of my worthy opponent." You heard a rough, deep voice. People laughed at what he said. "I've waited years for it."

"That's not countin' the holidays, either", Mr. Smee complete. "Aye, there is the knife, Captain."

You tried to let go but only heard a deep chuckle. "Don't be a coward, my old enemy, face your fate." You heard the ripping of ropes. The weight on you began to lift. "Hook defeated you."

The knot holding the hammock came undone, and only then did you realize how much you needed to breathe without pounds of rope over your face. You blinked, the sun blinded you, and the black silhouette in front of you took on color.

And he was beautiful. You've read stories about pirates. Beautiful and funny stories like the ones Wendy shares with her brothers. But also about strong men, who know their ships like the back of their hands, who survive the ravages of the sea and vanquish the mightiest heroes. And you've also read about pirates who knew how to please a woman, dishonest men who kneel in front of their beloved, experienced men doing things girls shouldn't even know exist.

Hook reminded you of the latter type. "Disappointed?", you whispered. After all, it was just a dream.

Hook was frozen in place. Ready to slit Peter's throat and deliver him an honorable death, what was caught in his net was something far different than his little imp.

His heart was pounding so loudly that he almost didn't hear the question asked by the lady in front of him. Disappointed? How could he? You were more beautiful than any mermaid, more graceful than any woman he had ever seen, more delicate than any pearl. Wars would be fought in your honor and that would be the least any man with sense could do.

But his sailors are not known for being sensible.

"Of course we are!" One of them thought he had the right to talk to you. As if it wasn't already a miracle that he could see someone like you. "Where's Peter?"

Then Hook moved. He took the revolver out of his jacket and, without even looking in the direction he was aiming, pulled the trigger. The sailor fell overboard.

"Forgive me", Hook extends his hand to you. "My men don't know how to treat a lady."

You hesitated but accepted the touch. Hook set you on your feet again, more gently than you thought a pirate could display. "Apparently you kidnapped me."

"Aye, this is just a misunderstanding. See, I thought you were Peter Pan. It's not every day you see someone different flying over my ship."

"So... can I leave?" Your feet left the ground. Looks like you were already getting used to this flying thing. "And nothing will happen to me?"

Hook ran his fingers through his hat, a polite smile spreading across his face. "I would never dream of hurting you." Hook gestured toward his office. "May I apologize for the misunderstanding?"

"Apologize?"

"Drinks and conversation." Hook ran his fingers over his face. Good thing Mr. Smee shaved. It would be a horror if the love of his life met him in something other than his best version. "A proper apology."

You wouldn't normally accept such a request. To be alone with an unknown and dangerous man. Drinking with a man! But that was just a dream.

In his room, you floated around looking at the different shelves and finds. A pirate ship! It has so many treasures. "If you had captured Peter, would you have killed him?"

Your question took him by surprise. "That doesn't strike me as a conversation of lady interest."

As you turned, you saw Hook swapping the silver hook for a gold one. You smirked. "I showed interest, didn't I?"

Bossy. Ah, Hook knew you were his soulmate for sure. "I would have. Does that bother you?"

"No." You floated toward him, and sat down on the chair across from the table. Hook poured two glasses of some drink. You took the glass and thanked him, but didn't drink. "After all, this it's nothing but a dream."

"Dream?” Hook chuckled, downing his drink and sitting back in his armchair. “What convinces you of that?”

"I was at home, ready for bed, and suddenly I was flying to Neverland." You shrugged. "Clearly a dream."

Hook understood what was happening. Peter seems to have been confused. You are not a lost child. He never was careful. "I can prove this is not a dream."

"How?"

Hook rose, slowly circling the table. In front of her, he leaned on the wood. "Aren't you going to drink?"

Only then did you remember the glass in your hands. You took a sip, a grimace came over your face. "Strong", you coughed.

"Here's the proof." Hook touched your chin, making you lift your head and look. Only he did it with the golden hook. "Ever felt something like that in a dream?"

You swallowed hard. "No."

"So that means you're alone with the most dangerous pirate on the seven seas, the person who wouldn't have thought twice about slicing someone's throat out, completely helpless." Hook leaned in until he could feel your breath against his face. "Does that bother you?"

"You don't seem interested in ripping my throat out."

He gave you time to walk away. To fly in the direction you wanted. To leave him without saying a single word. Hook gave you time, but you let him kiss you.

He tasted like the rum you ignored. The hook left your chin and slid down to your waist, pulling you toward him. You leaned into his chest, kissing him back. It was so wrong, so unlike anything you would ever do, but it also felt so good.

You pulled away for air, and felt his fingers caressing your cheek. When you opened your eyes, you saw that Hook was smiling. "Do you know how to be silent?" You nodded in agreement. "Excellent."

He lifted you from the chair, and in one swift movement sat you down on the table. Hook was strong. Too strong. He pressed his thumb to your lip, watching you with lust. "You were made for me."

Before you could say anything, Hook knelt. You've read about it in books, but you could never imagine it would be such a satisfying sight. A man so strong, so dangerous, brought to his knees by you.

Hook didn't even bother to remove your nightgown. He just stuck his head between the fabric, desperate to satisfy you. To make you feel the same way he felt about you. To make you scream for him and make everyone understand that you belonged with him.

And so you did. Feeling him delight in your curves, his tongue brushing against your lips, his fingers pressing into your clit. You tried to be silent as he asked, but after a while you stopped worrying about it.

"You..." You didn't even knew what you wanted to say. You just wanted to feel more. To feel completed. To feel more and more of him. "I think I had dreams like that before."

You felt him gasp against your sex. Hook rose, his damp face close to yours, and you felt your face burn. "Haven't I convinced you this isn't a dream yet?"

His fingers explored your lips again, applying just the right pressure. You moaned against his lips, Hook squeezed his eyes shut. "What else do I have to do to convince you?"

You smiled. "I think you know what you need to do."

He bit your lip. "As you wish."

His fingers entered you. Slowly, carefully, but no less willingly. He filled you, long fingers repeatedly penetrating your insides, and you were unable to do anything but hold on to his shoulders and allow him to do whatever he wanted to you.

The sound of your wet pussy was almost embarrassing. "You're mine", Hook whispered against your ear.

"As you wish."

He quickened his movements, fucking you with a devotion no one has ever shown you. So close, so glued to your body, Hook has guided you to orgasm. You shuddered against his fingers, your fingernails scratched his perfectly groomed jacket, your moans were uncontrollable.

"Do you still think I'm part of a dream?” Hook trailed kisses from your throat to your jaw. “Has anything this good ever happened in your dreams?'

You shook your head. It was as close to an answer you were able to give him. It was enough for him. Hook is patient. He can wait.

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