#with him it's more just cause he's the worst

[sttoru]

ahh i just cant stop thinking of sukuna's fav concubine getting injured from the other concubines but she hides it because shes scared of being weak (in sukuna's eyes) and/or a burden ☹️☹️

 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. fluff, sprinkle of angst n comfort. size difference. reader gets called ‘brat, woman, little one’ — ig this is a bit early in their relationship

“i’ve arrived, my lord,” you announce your presence once you step into sukuna’s quarters. the dimly lit room removed all the stress you currently had in your system—the knowledge that you’re safe in his space causes your shoulders to drop.

sukuna turns his head to look at you while he’s laid back on his bed, topless. all four of his eyes roam over your body, which isn’t anything unusual for you. he always does that.

“tch. took ya long enough,” the king of curses scoffs before gesturing for you to come closer, making that familiar motion with his fingers, “when i order y’ to come, you’re supposed to drop everything and rush to be at my service, woman.”

you hurry over to his side of the bed with a nod. “my apologies,” you mutter. you can’t tell him why you’re late, because hell would break loose within these walls. and also because you’re scared of what his reaction would be.

before being called over, you were in the kitchen, peacefully trying to get a snack, when two other concubines entered the room. you tried ignoring them, but that didn’t seem to be the smartest move. it wasn’t long before they threw derogatory remarks at you.

of course, you stood up for yourself and yelled some back. that’s when one of them pushed you backwards, causing the skin near your hand to get slightly burned by the fire on the stove.

if it weren’t for the maids around that went to report the ruckus to uraume, god knows what more would have went down in that kitchen.

“oi,” sukuna grabs your jaw and lifts your head up. he can immediately notice the vacant look in your eyes, which is unusual for you. you snap out of your trance and set the nasty memories aside—ignoring the impulse to scratch the injury on your wrist.

“i’m sorry, my lord,” you say again before slowly undoing your obi. you figure that is why sukuna had called you over, to do your job as his concubine. you halt your movements when you realise that undressing meant that he’s going to see the wound on your skin.

you hesitate. that same instant of hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed by the king of curses. a large hand of his moves to stop both of your wrists from pulling off your robes.

“. . .i’m giving y’ three seconds of my time,” sukuna narrows his eyes after allowing you to speak up and tell him what’s on your mind. he hears you whimper in pain when he holds onto your wrist, your facial expression clearly uncomfortable. “spit it out,” he impatiently huffs. he wants to hear you say what’s wrong.

you desperately shake your head, biting your bottom lip. you don’t want to tell him—even though you know you’re obligated to.

denying an answer to sukuna was your next big mistake.

“fuckin’ brat,” the pink-haired man grunts. he yanks your arms up to his face, harshly pulling down the sleeves of your kimono. all four of his red eyes immediately fall onto the wound on your wrist. you obviously hadn’t treat it yet, even though you should have done so long ago.

there’s tension hanging in the air almost instantly after your little secret gets revealed. sukuna’s grip on your hands tightens which causes you to flinch. you close your eyes and expect the worst. you can already hear the insults he’ll throw at you—how he’ll call you useless, weak, stupid and all that.

“look up at me,” his voice rings out in a firm tone. you don’t want to anger him more than he already is, so you obey. you open your eyes and glance upwards, your worried gaze meeting his.

sukuna takes a deep breath to contain the bubbling rage inside of him; a rare sight indeed. he doesn’t want to unnecessarily lash out at you when it isn’t needed. however, he can’t deny that itching urge in his chest, to get mad at whoever caused your skin to get tainted like that.

sukuna stares at you with an intimidating glare. when you expect him to yell profanities at you, the unexpected happens.

“who did this to you?” he asks, voice strained like he’s trying to hold himself back.

you blink a few times. the king of curses sounds pissed off, and when he’s in that kind of mood, you know he’s not to be played with. you look the other way and try to think of a proper answer.

will you snitch and cause unnecessary bloodbath, or will you spare the lives of the concubines who hurt you and lie?

you’re scared of being seen as useless by sukuna if you tell him the truth. if you lie, he’ll probably call you weak and stupid as well. it’s a lose-lose situation, you conclude.

you swallow the spit that has gathered in your mouth before parting your lips.

“m-miko,” her name echoes in his ears. you decide to be honest, because you know that there’s no fooling the ryomen sukuna. a second of silence follows and when you look up at him, he stares back at you with furrowed brows.

“ah,” you then realise that he doesn’t know his concubines by name. he has way too many women at his disposal and doesn’t find them worthy enough to remember.

however you have heard from uraume and the others that he does know your name—only yours. it makes you feel special.

you try to describe the concubine you’ve tussled with, “s-short blonde hair, uhm, mole under her right eye.. brown colored eyes—“

sukuna thinks for a moment before clicking his tongue once he faintly remembers who that’s supposed to be. without a word, he stands up and wraps one muscular arm around your waist, sweeping you off your feet and carrying you under his armpit like some package.

“uraume!”

his voice is loud enough to make the walls shake and it carries a clear hint of pure rage. everyone in the estate should have heard him by now, which means that they know what is going down in a couple seconds.

sukuna sounding this angry only means one thing; someone is going to die today.

the servants hurriedly scurry around, deeply bowing as he walks past them in the hallway with you still tucked underneath his arms. you let yourself be carried while your heart beats uncontrollably fast in your chest.

you feel your hands shake a bit. seeing someone like sukuna be this mad for your sake—to the point that he’s ready to turn the entire area upside down—is somehow thrilling. though, you can’t help but feel sick because of your own thoughts.

someone is going to die and there you are, cheesing about the king of curses.

you see the white-haired chef appear from a corner, their steps hurried. they glance at you and then back at their master. it’s like they immediately connect the dots.

“treat her in my quarters. don’t let her leave until i come back,” sukuna commands without even looking at uraume. he’s staring ahead, with an ominous aura emitting from his body, one that somebody can sense from miles away.

he puts you down next to uraume before glancing your way one last time. he lets out a deep sigh as he sees the worried expression you’re making. he lowers his head to your level so you’d be face to face.

“and you,” his warm breath hits your cheeks and sends a shiver down your spine. you gulp as sukuna’s hand reaches up to firmly tug at your earlobe, “i’ll deal with your ass later, yeah? i’ll make you feel what it means to hide stuff from me, little one.”

that sentence makes you even more nervous. you know you won’t be able to avoid the punishment sukuna has in mind, so you simply nod. “understood,” you reply in a squeaky voice. you don’t have the guts to disobey him—he’s already out to kill someone and you don’t want to be the next victim.

sukuna straightens his back again and continues his journey towards the concubines’ quarters. every heavy step makes the floors and walls shake, a sign of his unstoppable rage that’s about to be unleashed.

you feel slightly puzzled. you didn’t expect this outcome when you revealed your injury to the ruthless man. you expected to be belittled and mocked for not being able to prevent a wound from being inflicted on your body.

instead, there he goes, off to get revenge in your stead. you feel a twisted sense of satisfaction after seeing sukuna be this protective over you. actions like these demonstrate more than his dull words can do, even if it may seem like he doesn’t care about what could happen to a human like you.

[keerysfreckles]

sparks fly — LN4

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: “drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain. kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain” — or when y/n goes to lando's childhood home in england, after her night turned for the worst.

warnings: abusive relationship, cursing, not proofread

a/n: shoutout to pookie nat for finally getting me into taylor 🙏

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n knew from the moment she watched her first rom-com, she would find a love like the movies. how to lose a guy in ten days. thirteen going on thiry. ten things i hate about you. twenty seven dresses.

the list could go on. she was more than positive she'd find someone to love her the same way these fictional men loved their partners.

y/n met her first love during her spring break of her second year of uni. she could've sworn they were meant to be. they had plenty in common. they were studying the same major, both loved hockey, both wanted to study abroad someday, in paris or germany.

she thought it was perfect. until the fairy tale castle started crumbling.

during their third year of uni, y/n noticed patrick changing. he got more focused with his school work, but became more aggressive when y/n was involved.

y/n thought at first it was just the stress from exams coming up. she justified it as everyone's on edge, getting antsy for the year to be done with.

however it only fell downhill. the words of aggression turned into loud yells heard from their shard apartment at late hours. the yelling turned into patrick throwing any item he could find, which soon turned into y/n dodging almost everything patrick threw.

he hasn't hit her yet, which was possibly the only thing keeping y/n in the relationship. she really believed he could change. but as days passed, and his anger only progressed, she wasn't sure the old patrick was still inside.

sure, the man would always try to make it up to her. a million open eneded apologies could only do so much.

on the twenty third of october, that's when shit hit the fan.

"patrick please, just let me go to bed. it's late, we're both angry and not thinking right," y/n tried reasoning with him, knowing her words don't mean a thing to him.

"no, you're going to tell me what you were doing out so late."

y/n only lets out a scoff. it was the same fight almost every time she went out with friends, or simply went to the library to study. patrick never believed her.

"for the last time, i was out with jess. all we did was go shopping," y/n explains again. her own anger starts rising. she feels the bottle inside her shaking, getting ready to explode.

she stands from the couch, walking to their shared room.

"you think you can walk away from me?" patrick quickly follows, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

"what is your problem!" y/n finally shouts, "you never believe me. what do you think i'm doing? cheating on you? how can i do that when you barely let me leave this goddamn apartment?"

y/n's breath heaved. she felt a small pressure release as she finally got the courage to yell at the man standing in front of her.

"who do you think you are?"

as patrick spoke, he stepped closer to y/n. causing her to step back, eventually becoming trapped between the him and the wall.

"who gave you the right to talk to me like that?" patrick seethed, before reaching out and grabbing y/n's wrist.

his grip only tightened when she let out pained sounds, as tears started forming in her eyes.

she tried prying his hand off her wrist with her other one, "let go," she begged.

y/n started kicking. she didn't know where her feet were ending up, but was grateful patrick had started backing away from her movements.

she managed to release her wrist from his hold, and ran towards the bedroom door. grabbing anything she could before leaving the apartment, she was able to grab her phone and her shoes.

patrick tried grabbing at her again, yelling and begging for her to come back. she was still struggoing to slip her shoes on even when she got outside.

y/n swore she still heard patrick's yelling from where she stood.

once she got at least a block away, the tears couldn't help but fall. her vision became fuzzy as she kept walking. she kept tripping over he untied shoe laces, stepping in the puddles from the rain beginning to fall from her sky.

as if the rain was matching y/n's mood.

in the ten minutes she continued to mindlessly walk, y/n couldn't believe how stupid she had been. scolding herself for staying with the man who only made her the worst version of herself.

y/n kept walking, until she seemed to find herself in an all too familiar neighborhood. she couldn't even begin to count the times she's been here.

she tries ridding her tears, knowing its no use as her eyes are probably bright red and puffy.

she begins to knock on the door of the house she knows too well. as her hand leaves the wood, her mind only begins to spiral.

what are you doing? they might not even be home. this could be too much for them to handle. they won't want to see me. they can't do anything–

the sound of locks turning brought y/n back from inside her mind.

cisca stood on the other side of the door, in the warmly lit house. her heart broke at the sight of y/n drenched from the rain, her shoes barely holding onto her feet, and her shaking hands.

"oh darling," cisca starts.

"i didn't know where else to go," y/n's voice shakes as cisca lets her inside. she's gone for a moment, before coming back with a towel for the girl.

"you know you're welcome here any time," cisca brought y/n towards the living room, not caring if the couch gets wet. she can always fix it later.

"you dry off some more, i'll be back with a cup of tea," cisca rubs y/n's arm before leaving for the kitchen. the older woman's mind wanders to all the possibilities for why y/n was at their home at the late hour.

minutes pass and cisca sets the warm cup of tea in y/n's hands, instantly receiving a thank you from her.

cisca gasps slightly at the bruise already forming around y/n's wrist. "sweetheart, what happened?"

she rubs her back as y/n explains everything to the woman. from the point patrick began getting verbally violent, to the events that happened no less then half an hour ago.

cisca couldn't believe her ears. the sweet y/n she knew would never have stayed with someone like that, but cisca hardly knows her at any more. ever since she started uni she rarely comes over to her best friends childhood home.

after pulling y/n into a much needed hug, cisca began setting up the extra bedroom. while y/n stayed on the couch, finishing the cup of tea in her hands.

"hey mom, i heard noise from my room. everything okay?" lando peeks his head into the spare bedroom, instantly confused to why his mother is setting up the bed.

"y/n is out there, and she just needs to be comforted right now, okay? she's had a rough night," cisca explains as lando nods in understanding.

lando walks through the hallway towards the living room, and just like his mother, his heart sinks at the sight of y/n. she's hunched over on the couch, finally getting warmer from being out in the rain.

"i thought i heard noise out here," lando chuckles, hoping a light hearted mood might fix the atmosphere around y/n.

once their eyes meet, he knows one slightly fun comment won't make anything better. he sees her bloodshot eyes, and worried expression.

"oh, baby," the nickname slips through his lips. one he's called her many times in the past.

he kneels in front of her to wrap his arms tightly around her waist, as hers reach for his shoulders.

he didn't know how much comforting she needed, but could only guess it was a lot after she started crying against his shoulder.

he continued to hold her, rubbing his hands up and down her back. his heart started to break once she started shaking in his arms. a mixture from the crying and her body finally letting the stress and anxiety get to her.

"i should've listened to you," y/n mumbled against his shoulder.

lando doesn't respond, knowing exactly what the girl meant.

her grip loosened slightly on his shoulders, now just resting her hands there as she looks at him.

"you were right. he wasn't a good guy. you had a feeling and i should've listened to you," y/n rambles on, knowing lando's been right about patrick since the first time the two men met.

"what did he do?" lando asks, moving his hands to hers. however, his fingers brush over y/n's brusing skin. the action makes her flinch slightly, and lando's heart breaks for the second time that night.

"i shouldn't have come here," y/n states, beginning to shake her head back and forth. "i'm sorry."

"you have nothing to be sorry for, you can stay," lando tries to reason with her.

he continues to try even when he follows her back out in the rain.

"y/n! just come inside!" he runs after her, his socks getting damp from the drying puddles outside. he looks up, the rainfall definitely slowed, but y/n's hair was beginning to get wet again.

"no lando, it's fine. i'll go back there for the night. he's probably calmed down by now."

lando reaches y/n, "you can't possibly want to go back there. he hurt you. you can barely move your wrist because of the bastard."

y/n turned to see lando looking at her, his curls falling slightly from the drizzling rain.

"you can't go back there y/n."

"i've already ruined yours and your mom's night."

lando laughs, "that's the last thing you've done. you and i both know you're more than welcome to stay the night."

after minutes of silence, lando speaks up again while stepping closer to y/n.

"i want you to come inside. i want you to be comfortable and safe."

it's as if a switch went off in y/n's head. a switch she's surprised didn't go off sooner.

seeing lando like this, standing in the rain in front of her. wanting nothing more than to make sure she's protected. something patrick would never have done, during any circumstances.

he watches her eyes flick between his own and his lips.

he lets out a shuddered breath as she simply begins walking closer to him.

"y/n, you went through way too much tonight. i don't want to add to any of your stress."

y/n shakes her head, "lando i've never been more sure of anything."

lando's hands find their way to her waist as she finally steps in front of him.

"take away my pain lando, please. you're the only person who's been here for everything. you're the only one i need. i'm so stupid for not seeing it earlier. i should've never went on that stupid date. i should've listened to you, and– and if i did i would've been here so much sooner."

y/n catches her breath. her heart hammers in her chest waiting for lando's reaction.

tears begin to blur her vision once more, her emotions getting the better of her as lando doesn't respond.

"lan, please say something. you're what i want, not h–"

y/n stumbles back slightly from the impact of lando's lips pushing against hers. her hands hold onto his face, scared that if she let's go, she might just be imagining this.

"please, let me take you back in–"

now y/n cuts off lando's words, making the man laugh into the kiss. the sound and feeling sending shivers up y/n's spine.

lando breaks the kiss, but feels y/n's breath fanning over his lips.

"now can you please come back inside?"

"one more," y/n mumbles against his lips before he has the chance to reject her offer.

[dcxdpdabbles]

More cave boy? <3 <3 <3

Constantine kept throwing him long looks. Ever since the core test, the British man couldn't stop staring. Sometimes, he would glance at him, look away to shake his head, and then quickly glance back and start the whole cycle over.

Danny wasn't really sure why he was behaving this way. Much less why John Constantine felt the need to send a message to everyone in the magical community a message.

There was a large group of people wearing the most ridiculous outfits he'd ever seen—and his parents ran around in jumpsuits daily—peeking at him from every window, doorway, and, in that one girl's case, a shadow. They all stared at him like a natural miracle was happening before their eyes.

If you asked Danny, the worst part was that they didn't say anything. They just stood there, menacingly, in silence, staring. Bruce and the others had tried to get rid of them, but all the magic-user had done was a scurry to the edge of Bruce's property and camp out there.

He was sure he saw a boy with a cat praying to him at one point. The boy fully bowing low, hand on the ground, and muttering in ghost speech of gratitude for being in his presence.

Danny couldn't figure out why.

Constantine had yet to be evident on the issue either.

The man had been much more focused on explaining why he had been so disrespectful when he first woke.

Apparently, the day they found his cave, he had detected overworld energy in such high density and frankly alarming robust levels. He had assumed that a demon, an evil ghost, or even a trickster god had targeted the alternative version of Bruce Wayne.

Everyone knew the phrase "Get noticed by a higher being" never ended well in any legend, regardless of where the myth originated. Humans have always suffered in some way in those tales—most times, the human's death was the best possible outcome.

It would make sense why Danny had been thrown into a different dimension despite being a mere civilian—or as civilian as a version of Bruce Wayne could be if this was the case. He was worried that the young boy was in danger from forces far beyond human compression and had decked his room with every protective ward he knew.

He had almost demanded Danny be moved to the House of Mysteries since the death covering him had been so thickly layered over his soul. Then Danny woke up, making it evident that he was the cause of the energy, not the guiding light attracting the power like a month to the flame.

Then Constantine figured that Danny had been killed by the higher being who was done playing with him. Whatever happened in that cave meant that Bruce's alternative had lost, and now that higher being was pretending to be Danny.

The reason?

When Danny had first been found getting dangerously close to the Batcave, Constantine had been one of the first Bruce had called for some tests (tests that he was unconscious for while being held in that glass cage). He had confirmed that Danny had no magical power, so they wrote him off as meta.

The second time Constantine saw his unconscious body, he was significantly less human because he had been Phantom for literal days until he passed out. His magic had been reported as such, so Constantine had reacted accordingly, believing that the Ghost King seal was the only deserving revenge for the boy he allowed to perish in such a horrific manner.

He wanted Danny's body back from whatever was pretending to be him when he woke. Constantine just wanted to help him rest. He was not expected to threaten the King with his own seal and apologized profoundly once the confusion was cleared up.

Danny had no idea what the magic trench coat man was talking about. What King Seal? That was the badly done carvings he did with Jazz two summers ago!

What King's Guard? That's just a badly drawn photo of Fright Knight that Dan made!

What King's Cry? That's just a recording of Danny singing badly to a radio song Tucker made!

None of this made sense, especially this royal mystical treatment he received. Thankfully, the Waynes were on his side about it. They still treated him like Brucie, but there was one notable difference.

"You're majesty," Jason said with a mocking bow. "Your carriage awaits."

Danny frowns. "What?"

"Tim finished your ship."

"Oh," Danny stood quickly, a rush of impatience and slight wonder overwhelmingly developing in his chest. He'd been here for literal months, almost a full year. Danny never gave up on his idea of going home, but that was more of a stubborn hope that he would see his world again.

With each passing day, he felt that his home was getting further and further away.

And now, here it was, within reach. He didn't know what to do with that knowledge. Other than race down to the cave with his heart beating a mile a minute. He's so close. So close.

Out of his eye, he spots a woman in the window wearing a strange outfit and pressing her hands against the glass. Her silver bracelets gleam as she offers him a quick smile.

Danny swears he had seen her coming and going through the manor when he was pretending to be simple Brucie- Wonder something- but she now offers him a deep down on her knee bow. He checks Jason's reaction, but seeing that he hasn't noticed, he walks by her with a tiny head nod.

He cares more about going home, not manners.

"Hey Danny," Jason calls, falling in step with him. "I've been meaning to ask. But.....your parents are alive, and everything thinks you're this big shot in the afterlife....are you like me?"

"No, I'm caucasian," Danny tells him while mindlessly changing the arms of the clock that should open the Batcave to him.

Jason laughs. "No, kid. I mean about dying."

Danny squints up at him with confusion. "You're not a ghost."

"No, but I did die. I just came back." Jason tells him with another laugh, but this one is bitter. Danny considers the question, then shakes his head.

"No, I technically never left. I died and lived and died and lived and died and lived again." He makes a circle with his hands. "It's a cycle of being on the line between worlds, not one side completely on any given day."

"You are a god then." Damian comments, suddenly at Danny's elbow. Danny has no idea where the kid came from, only barely stopping himself from screaming as the younger boy puffs up his chest. "Of course, my father would be a god."

"Wait, if Bruce is a god in one world, maybe he has the potential to turn into a god in everyone. That would explain how he strengthens the more people know of him- the more they believe in him." Tim calls from across the cave, where he is typing on the computer.

He pauses and twists around with a look of manic curiosity. "That could mean he passed along powers to his children- Jason, what if Bruce made you a demi-god that day he adopted you, and that's how you came back? That's how all of us come back!"

"The dots are connecting," Dick shouts from the top of the cave, waving his two forefingers around. Danny had no idea why he felt the need to climb high places to do the splits between two rock formations, but he found that Dick tended to do that often. "The Justice League was right....we bats aren't human!"

Danny raised a hand. "I'm not a god. I'm not a King. I'm just a kid from Amity Park who wants to go home."

The others don't pay him any mind, so Danny leaves the Bats to gather around and compare notes. All he can see is the ship resting on a ledge. It resembles Fenton Tech so much that for a second, he feels an overwhelming sense of homesickness.

Soon, he thinks, running his hand on the smooth metal. Soon, I'll be home.

"I call dibs on the godhood of delinquents!"

"You can't just call dibs on godhood, Duke."

"Yes, I can. I have two godly fathers now, which means I have double the demi-god. I'm a mostly-god; I outrank you, Tim."

"I am Stephine, the demi-god of purple!"

"Steph, what does that even mean?

"All things purple answer to me."

As soon as the Waynes focus.

[ellecdc]

can i request a hurt comfort (with as little hurt as possible)

where barty either gets a letter from his dad or his dad is just a dick and he goes to reader for comfort

thank you

thanks for your request lovie! and also for your patience in my writing it <3

Barty Crouch Junior x Potter!reader who comforts Barty after a moment with his dad

CW: fem!reader, Sirius spends the entire fic being an absolute pain in Remus' ass, I feel like Barty acts a bit ooc in this (more hurt Barty than angry Barty if that makes sense), I'm also not 100% sure how I feel about this piece so I apologize if it reads weird

“You can always add more layers, right? But you can only remove so many.” Peter explained earnestly.

“Not the way that I do it.” Sirius replied salaciously, earning him a jab in the ribs by Remus. 

“No, I think being cold is the worst feeling in the world.” James offered resolutely.

“Wrong.” Remus drawled without looking up from his book. “I’ve never been more miserable than when I’m overheated” 

“You’re miserable 75% of the time, Moons.” Sirius mumbled; though the words seemed to escape his mouth without his permission because no sooner had he said them was he slapping a hand over his mouth and looking at you with a horrified expression.

“Yeah well next time you’re so cold, Sirius, you can try crawling into Peter’s bed for snuggles.” Remus muttered back.

“What’s the count at now, Pete?” James asked quickly.

“That’s the….eighteenth time Sirius has been put in the dog house.”

“This week?” You asked.

“No, just since breakfast.” Peter responded simply.

“How about you, Trouble? Do you think being too hot or too cold is worse?” Sirius redirected.

“Hot.” You replied as you flipped a page of your book, earning you a snicker from Remus, a cheer from Peter, and grumbling from James and Sirius.

“You only voted that way because I’m your brother.” James bemoaned.

Peter looked between the two of you inquisitively. “Erm, wouldn’t that have put you in her favour?”

You, Sirius, and James all chorused ‘no’ as Remus snorted.

“Siblings don’t operate that way, Pettigrew.” Regulus said from behind you, causing the group to turn towards the entrance of the Gryffindor common room to see Regulus and Barty making their way over.

“Hi baby!” James called over, causing Sirius to make a dramatic gagging sound and Regulus to roll his eyes, though no one missed the furious blush that decorated his cheeks as he moved to sit beside your brother.

Barty quietly moved around the sofa to sit beside you on a cushion and let his head fall onto your shoulder.

“Hey bubba.” You greeted quietly, pressing a kiss to your boyfriend's hair.

You heard a quiet ‘hi tres’ as he pressed a chaste kiss to your shoulder before repositioning his head back onto your shoulder.

“Merlin, who kicked your pygmy puff, Junior?” Sirius asked after a beat of silence, causing Regulus to hiss something at him under his breath and Remus to snap his book shut abruptly.

“Alright, you’re done.” He barked at Sirius before he was throwing his now gawking boyfriend over his shoulder and marching up to the boys’ dorm room. 

You craned your neck to look at Barty whose head was still pointed downward as he fiddled with the bracelets adorning your arm.

Your bemused gaze shot to Regulus who pursed his lips before mouthing ‘dad’ at you. 

You took in a deep breath and tapped Barty’s thigh twice before standing and offering him your hand.

You knew it was bad when he never made eye contact with you as he accepted your hand willingly. 

You knew it again when not one word was shared between the Gryffindor tower and the Slytherin dungeons; nor as you whispered the password to the Slytherin common room and made your way to the boys’ dorm room.

And you knew it once more when nothing was said as you and Barty pulled off your uniforms, changed into some comfies and crawled into bed. 

Barty curled up in a quasi-fetal position on his bed as you mirrored it, your body facing his as you brought one of his hands in both of yours to your chin.

“What’s going on, my love.” You whispered before pressing your lips to his knuckles. 

The only response you got was a quick shake of his head. 

You allowed silence to fall over you for a few moments before you couldn’t stand the anguish anymore.

“Barty? Please? Talk to me…” You all but begged.

Barty’s breath hitched slightly before he was pulling you towards him from where you were joined at the hands.

Needless to say, you went willingly. 

“What happened?” You whispered as you tucked his head into your chest, wrapping your arms protectively around your boyfriend as if they could single handedly protect him from any negativity the world tried to throw at him. 

You’d certainly try.

“I don’t know why I let him get to me. I-” Barty started, his voice cracking miserably. “I don’t know why I care-”

“Of course you care, Barty.”

“But I shouldn’t!” And though his volume got louder, his tone never grew angry; not at you, at least. “I shouldn’t; he’s awful Y/N, just terrible. And I shouldn’t care if terrible people hate me or wish I was never born or wish I was dead or whatnot. I shouldn’t care if he wants me to be more terrible like him. I shouldn’t care, it shouldn’t hurt-”

“Bubba.”

“I don’t know why I ever thought managing to receive all 12 O.W.L’s would be good enough for him.”

“Sweetheart, I-”

“I don’t know why I give a shit what he thinks of me when I know-”

“Because he’s your dad, Barty.” You finally got out, tightening your hold around your quickly spiralling boyfriend as he took a shuddering breath. “Because even if you only managed to pass 3 O.W.L’s, even if you dropped out of school to become a hard-done-by ventriloquist performer; he is supposed to love you and he is supposed to be proud of you. That’s why it hurts.”

Your words seemed to be of little comfort to Barty who simply nuzzled further into your chest which was quickly growing damp with his tears.

“I’m sorry, Barty. You’re not wrong for feeling hurt; he’s wrong for hurting you.”

Barty managed to fall into a fitful sleep as you simultaneously thanked the gods for blessing you with parents like Euphemia and Fleamont Potter and cursing the gods for not gracing such luck onto every child. 

No matter, though; you had a plan.

“Goooooooood morning, Siri!” You greeted as you floated up to your most dutiful fellow trickster.

He simply looked at you sceptically. 

“No way, Trouble.”

“What?”

“Not happening.”

“I haven’t even said anything!” You whined.

“Yes, but you see, I’m on my best behaviour today.” He explained solemnly as the other three marauders made their way over to the table where you had found Sirius sitting alone. 

“Remus refused cuddling privileges last night, didn’t he?” You asked nonplussed.

Sirius harrumphed and sat back in his chair as Remus, Peter, and James all chorused “Remus refused cuddling privileges last night.”

“That’s too bad…” You hummed noncommittally. “I could really use your guys’ help with something.”

“Yeah?” James asked, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees as he considered you.

“With a prank.” You continued, noticing the way both Peter and Remus perked up at the p word.

Finally, you turned your gaze to the eldest Black brother who was very pointedly looking down at the book he’d been studying from prior to your arrival.

“Against a very old, very bigoted, downright horrid Pureblood family.” You finished.

To both your absolute horror and delight, Sirius finally looked up at that; a rather sinister looking smile taking over his face as he locked eyes with you.

“Well…why didn’t you just say so?”

Remus was in the middle of muttering about how it was horribly unfair that he put in nearly three times the amount of effort into his homework only for his boyfriend to earn the same score as him after having hardly read the book at all just as Regulus, Barty, and Evan took a seat at your table.

“Morning.” Barty greeted you quietly as he cozied up on the bench beside you, pressing a lingering kiss to the side of your head before fixing himself up a cup of tea.

“How is it that when McGonagall calls on you, you’ve not got a sodding clue what she’s been going on about, but you managed to get an Exceeds Expectations on your paper?” Remus grumbled before putting down his cup rather more aggressively than strictly necessary.

“Because, Moons; I’m brilliant.” Sirius responded simply.

“You’re a brilliant pain in my arse is what you are.” He grumbled as Sirius beamed at him. 

“I hardly understand how any of you lot get anything done with all the tomfoolery you concern yourselves with.” Regulus mumbled as he fixed himself some toast.

“Tomfoolery. Merlin’s tits, Reggie, come join us in the twentieth century will you?” Sirius taunted from the other side of James, earning him a withering glare from his brother.

“Speaking of tomfoolery.” Evan started as he looked at you with a mixture of pride and suspicion. “Why don’t we go around the table and share where we all were last night? I’ll go first; Reg and I were studying for the alchemy test coming up. Barty?”

You barely had a chance to give Evan a sideways glance before Barty was scoffing at him. “I hardly think that’s any of your concern, Rosier.”

“Nevermind; Regulus and I left you in the dorms and found you in the dorms immediately afterwards; how ‘bout you lot? Oi! Gryffindors! Where were you last night?”

“Head boy duties.” James offered without looking up.

“Prefect rounds and then bed.” Remus explained nonchalantly.

“Following my boyfriend around during his prefect rounds and then bed.” Sirius continued.

“Pete and I played three rounds of wizarding chess and one round of gobstones before bed.” You said flippantly.

“Who won?” Regulus asked quickly.

“What?” 

“Who won the game of gobstones?” He clarified.

You and Peter said “I did” at the same time before whipping your heads to look at each other.

“In what sodding world did you think you won that, Peter?!” 

“Uhm, how about because you’re a cheat?” Peter scoffed back at you.

“Oh, you’re dead. Rematch, tonight!”

“No, not tonight.” Barty argued.

“Why not?” You asked, turning your attention from your faux adversary to look at your boyfriend.

“He’ll be too busy duelling me for calling my girlfriend a cheat.”

“Don’t blame the poor sod for the fact that those two didn’t have their stories straight before our interrogation, Junior.” Evan said with a smirk.

“What the hell are you on about, Rosier?” Barty challenged.

Evan made a noncommittal sound as he tossed a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of him.

In big, bold letters, the headline read “MYSTERIOUS FIREWORK RELATED INCIDENT ENGULFED HALF OF CROUCH MANOR IN FLAMES” before the story continued on. 

An alleged attack was sieged on Crouch Manor in the late hours of the night when charmed fireworks were set off within the Sacred Twenty Eight family’s home. It appeared that the two current residents of the manor were not home at the time of the attack, so though there were no resulting injuries, approximately just under half of the Manor had been completely desecrated by the time the occupants had returned home. 

You and the marauders were all in various states of shoving food into your mouth, speaking to one another about the weather, and other general forms of innocent behaviour as Barty turned to look at you incredulously.

“What did you do?” He asked breathlessly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Barty.” You said softly; staring intently into his green eyes that seemed to be searching the very depths of yours. 

“Did you do this for me?”

You scoffed in faux derision. “The only thing I did last night was completely annihilate Pettigrew in a game of gobstones and two rounds of wizarding chess.” You continued to deny. 

“Two!?” Peter exclaimed from a few seats away from you. 

“You’re perfect.” Barty whispered at you before you had a chance to start another verbal row with your co-conspirator. 

You took a moment to examine Barty then; a way you hadn’t done since you last left him.

Since you left him curled up in a blanket, cheeks still damp with tears as he no doubt dreamed of his deep rooted hatred of his father.

But right now, today, there was none of that boy; today his expression only held ease, admiration, and hope.

“Well….perfect would have been if the whole manor had gone up in flames but…I suppose there’s always next time.” You muttered as Barty cackled loudly. 

Yes…you decided you would do it for him a thousand times over if this version of Barty was the one that it promised.

[crystalcerberus]

Boothill x Fem!Reader – Period Relief

Boothill Taking Care of a Female Reader with Period Pain

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow from the bedside lamp casting gentle shadows across the walls. Boothill sat on the edge of the bed, his expression a mix of concern and determination as he looked at you. You lay curled up, clutching your abdomen, the pain of your period almost unbearable.

"Can’t you just shoot me? Or at least cut out my womb?" you half-joked, half-pleaded, a grimace on your face.

His expression immediately turned serious and worried. He knew you were feeling frustrated and in pain, but the thought of you wanting to harm yourself like that alarmed him. He gently turned you around so that you were facing him. He took your face in his hands and made you look directly into his eyes.

"Doll, don’t talk like that. Don’t ever think about doin’ somethin’ like that, okay? I ain’t gonna let you hurt yourself like that, you hear me?"

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and resignation. "Thank you."

He held your gaze for a moment longer, his hands still on your face. He wanted to make sure you understood the seriousness of his words. Then, his expression softened, and a gentle smile formed on his face.

"You’re welcome, doll. Just don’t you ever talk like that again, alright? I don’t wanna hear nothin’ about you hurtin’ yourself. You’re worth too much to even think about somethin’ like that. Understand?"

You nodded slightly, trying to hold back tears. "sigh I don’t want this anymore. I don’t want to suffer every month!"

His expression turned sympathetic as he heard your sob and your frustrated words. He knew that periods could be painful and uncomfortable, and he could see how much they affected you.

"I know, darlin’. I know it ain’t fun. It sucks goin’ through it every single month. But you’re a strong lil thing, ain’t ya? You ain’t gonna let a lil thing like this get the best of ya, huh?"

"But what’s the point if I’m gonna suffer again the next month?"

He paused for a moment, his hand hovering over your lower abdomen. He could hear the resignation in your voice, the defeated tone of your words. He took a deep breath before speaking again, his tone gentle yet firm.

"Darlin’, there’s always gonna be somethin’ that’ll cause you pain. Ain’t no way around it. But that doesn’t mean you gotta give up."

You groaned, frustration evident in your voice. "Why can’t I just be a cyborg like you? Then I'd never have this pain ever again!"

Boothill's expression turned serious, his eyes hardening slightly. "Believe me, doll. You don’t want this. Being a cyborg ain’t all it’s cracked up to be. Sure, you won’t have to deal with nothin’ like this anymore, but you’ll miss out on a lot of things, too. Things that make you human. Things that make you you!"

He began to rub your lower abdomen in slow, circular motions, his touch gentle yet firm. "You gotta be strong. You gotta keep goin’."

You scoffed lightly, trying to hold back a smile despite the pain.

He chuckled at your scoff, a hint of amusement in his expression.

He continued rubbing your lower abdomen, his touch soothing the worst of the cramps. The steady pressure helped ease the pain, if only a little.

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. "It still hurts, you know."

"I know, doll. But you’re strong. You’ll get through this, just like you always do."

You nodded, feeling a bit of the tension ease out of your body. Boothill’s presence, his words, and his touch made it a bit more bearable. You opened your eyes and met his gaze, a small smile playing on your lips.

"Thanks, Boothill. For being here."

"Always, darlin’. Always."

He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips warm and reassuring. As he continued to comfort you, the pain seemed a little more manageable, and you felt a bit more at peace.

[olvxva]

emptiness pt. II / joost klein x reader

have you guys noticed already how much i love angst? :)

part I

warnings: angst, cursing, crying (again yay), drinking if you squint

summary: late night conversations always lead to something good, right?

// 1200 words

‚hey, party at mine tonight ;) hope to see you!’

you stared at the message for a couple minutes. in fact, you weren’t leaving your apartment much since your break up with joost.

that day, after you told him to leave, he certainly did so. when you came home, there was nothing more than silence. 

it’s been two months since that feral day and you haven’t heard much from him really. he didn’t call, he didn’t text. your life has never felt so empty. but you made that decision, he just respected it.

you didn’t feel like partying, but your friend promised you that it was gonna be nothing more than just a casual party with couple close friends. so you agreed. you needed that (or so you thought).

before you knew it, you were staring at the door to your friends apartment and suddenly you weren’t so sure if it was a good idea. you heard people talking and loud music coming from the inside. 

‚okay, fuck it’ you thought, when the door rapidly opened. your best friend was staring at you with her brow raised.

‚finally, you’re here. i was worried you changed your mind.’

‚actually, i considered that, but i know you would beat me.’ you stared at her with playful smile.

‚oh, i definitely would.’ she laughed as you both entered the apartment.

there was much more than these few people you were promised, but you didn’t mind at this point. she left after a while to look for her boyfriend. you were left alone and went straight to the kitchen in search of something stronger to drink. as you poured yourself a wine, you heard something cause quite a commotion in the living room. you looked over the counter at the situation unfolding in front of you.

and there he was. you haven’t seen him in a while, but he looked as good as always. baggy pants, an oversized shirt, a blonde mullet, and those blue eyes that were now burning a hole into your own. you couldn’t hold his gaze, not for much longer. 

you hurriedly ran to the bathroom to avoid his gaze as quickly as possible. of course he was there. you had couple mutual friends, so why wouldn’t he? you starred blankly at yourself in a mirror. you weren’t ready for that moment to come.

‚fuck him, i need to smoke.’

you left the bathroom and quickly went to the kitchen for the cigarettes and lighter you left there. lost in your own thoughts, all you wanted was to get out of sight as quickly as possible. you found a bedroom because it was the only room with a balcony. 

it was chilly outside but really comforting. the sky was beautiful that night. you leaned against the wall and placed the cigarette between your lips. and when you were about to light it, your lighter suddenly decided to stop working. 

‚fuck, seriously?!’ you muttered annoyed.

you closed your eyes and leaned your head against the wall. suddenly you heard a rustle and looked to the side at the door leading to the balcony

‚you need this?’ 

joost stood next to you, handing you a lighter. a cigarette smoldering in his mouth. 

‚thanks, i guess.’

you lit a cigarette and looked at him, handing the thing back. 

‚you can keep it.’ he smiled. 

you couldn't help yourself, you smiled back slightly. 

it reminded you of when you two first met. 

you were standing in front of the club when you noticed a blonde guy whose lighter was failing.

was he drunk? definitely.

was he handsome? without a doubt.

you were always afraid to talk first, but your intuition told you it was a good idea. 

what’s the worst that could happen, right? 

you approached him slowly.

'here, i think you need it more than i do right now.' 

he looked stupidly at the pink lighter and then at you.

'thank you so much, you are saving my life. i'm joost, by the way. and you are?' 

you just looked at him and with a stupid smile you replied 'you can keep it.’ and just left. 

he found you through mutual friends after two days.

you knew he remembered it too. 

he was now leaning against the railing and looking at the sky, blowing smoke slowly. there was a silence between the two of you, but it didn't seem awkward at the time. you looked at him, wondering what he might be thinking about right now. after a moment he turned around and you looked down in shame, feeling caught.

‚i hoped, i would see you here tonight.’

these few words caught you off guard.

you remained silent, not really knowing what to answer. you just looked at him again. he stepped closer towards you, and when you went to step back, you realized that you were actually already up against the wall. he looked down at you. his eyes seemed so dark under the cover of night.

‚did you miss me at least for a moment, y/n?’ he almost whispered.

you looked down, afraid that ​​tears would immediately fall from your eyes.

‚look at me, please’ he grabbed your chin and tilted it up.

‚what do you want me to say, joost?’ you choked out the words, but it was so hard to think straight in that moment.

‚just tell me the truth.’

‚i miss you so much it hurts me. and looking at you now instead of brain i have a hole.’

he laughed quietly. his eyes showed pain and regret.

‚i wake up every day to realize how much i screwed up our relationship. i regret everything so much. i’ll never forgive myself for how much I hurt you, you know?’

the cigarette in your hand burned out a long time ago. you were hoping your feelings for him burned out exactly the same way. you were wrong. without thinking too much, you brought your face closer to his and kissed him. he kissed you back right away, as if he had been waiting for it all these two months.

suddenly you realized what was going on. you moved away abruptly.

‚sorry, joost, i can't do that to myself again, i'm sorry.’ 

you left the wall and leaned against the balcony railing. joost turned toward you.

‚y/n, please, think about it, there must be some way we can fix it.’ he came closer and grabbed your hand.

feeling his warmth made you feel at home. the truth is, you missed him so damn much. but it was all too much and too soon. you stroked his cheek and ran your thumb over his lips.

‚i will always love you, joost.’

not giving him time to answer, you left the balcony and headed straight for the front door of the apartment. leaving, you heard only the voice of your friend asking what happened. you had a confusion in your head and your heart filled the void again. tears flowed down your cheeks. you wanted to be home as soon as possible.

joost still stood on the balcony and saw your figure moving away towards your once shared apartment. a tear flowed down his cheek. he did not move an inch. but he knew one thing - maybe you'll forgive him someday. at least he hoped so.

[presleyheart]

Hello!! I was wondering if I could request a 70s Elvis X reader fic where before a concert, Elvis is really nervous(stage fright) and he doesn't usually tell reader that he is so after a bit of observing reader finally comforts him?

Take all the time you need, of course!

OMG OMG!!! Of course! I'd love to do this ^^ I feel like this is on par w/ Elvis having anxiety!! My first request!!! YAY! Sorry if it's bad lolol it's early in the AM but I'm so eager to write for you <3 So sorry if it's short, too.

"Walk A Mile In My Shoes" https://open.spotify.com/track/3TYiPU151GF7VASDPzk74Y?si=858262a5d85c419c Pairing 70s!TTWII!Elvis x gn!reader TW: mentions of !! Anxiety, light swearing, skin picking, throwing up !! ----------------------------------------------------------------------- It was 1970. Elvis was filming a new film, more-so like a documentary. Cameras were following you two around everywhere. No matter where Elvis went there was already a camera. He's absolutely been on edge. Every time you'd ask him, he'd say he was fine. You trusted him. What's the worst that could happen? Elvis has always sort've been a busy uptight man whenever it comes to concerts. This shouldn't be any different. ______ ______ You were tending to things backstage.

Everything was going perfectly. You saw Elvis come out of his dressing room; he decided the jumpsuit of tonight would be his Fringe Jumpsuit. No cape. Once he had exited, you could see by his posture something was off.

"Satnin." He had said, he went straight for you. "Hm?" You responded, looking at him. He was slightly taller than you so you had to look up to him a bit.

He immediately pulled you into a soft embrace. You could hear his heart thumping in his chest. "What's wrong?" Is all you could have mustered. He had you buried against him tightly.

He hadn't made a response. He was breathing lightly. He eventually pulled away after a few moments.

"Nothin'.. I just wanted to hold you'a moment." He responded. He was absolutely in shambles over something.

He had started picking at his face a bit and he looked almost queasy inside of his jumpsuit. He wanted to crawl out of his skin and hide from the looks of it. He was a mess. His eyes were red

"C'mon." You said. You had looked him up and down as you drug him to a spot to sit backstage.

"Y/N?-" "No." "Whad'dya think you're doin'?"

The expression on his face and posture said it all. You could tell how sensitive he was. His friends kept looking over but you shot a mean glare. They'd rather stay out of it rather than hear you "bitch up a storm" as they put it.

"Your heart is about to beat out your chest, Elvis." You answered. He looked around at the suffocating room pathetically, pawing at his seat. He twiddled his thumbs and just kept looking away shyly.

"Tell me what's going on." You demanded. Elvis failed to communicate his emotions too often.

You had been together for almost 3 years now and he was still nervous to express certain emotions. His past relationships had really caused emotional scarring on him.

"...'m anxious.. I-I..I don't understand why. I been doin' this for 'bout 16 years." He stated. He couldn't bear eye contact. He sighed softly. "It's all of these damn cameras, baby. I promise I'm okay. Jus' bein' a damn cry baby. Lem'me go"

You felt like you were ready to scream. He was very clearly anxious and tired. He looked ready to throw up, almost. He also couldn't bear to even look at you. Like he was ashamed to have feelings. It was heartbreaking.

"Look'ah me." You said, kneeling down in front of him. "What?" He says pitifully. He looks into your eyes. You could see how exhausted he was. There was no excuse for this.

You wished he could rest for only a moment, but sadly Colonel has him booked back to back. He had been acting off all week since his first concert of the month. It was like watching someone go insane, and it drove you crazier than him when he didn't even tell you.

"It's okay to be nervous.. It isn't okay not to tell me." "I-I know," He stammered; "Jus' hate bein' a burden.. y'know this"

You sighed and gently kissed him. You let him lean his head into your shoulder. He's always been a sucker for attention. He's needed someone like you after his mother had passed.

He needed love. And you were beyond certain you could give it to him.

"You're never going to be a burden. I love you so much. I understand how worried you must be, but just think.. All these people paid this money to see you. You have never let them down, and surely you won't let them down tonight." You knew exactly what to say to calm him down. You had learned quite a bit by being with him what most of the things were that he was insecure about. "Promise me?" He muttered into your shoulder "I promise." You responded, almost in a whisper. He pulled his head up fully.

"Look at'cha.. cheerin' this ol' man up." "Easy now.. you're hardly 30." "You're funny. I'm halfway through. 35." "30-shmirty. You're still a baby deep down." "Am not." "Are too."

He chuckled softly. "My baby. I love you most. Ever. Don't start tryna fight me on it, neither." He said to you. You just smiled, nodding at him. "Whatever."

He actually forgot about his anxieties. This was perfect. All you've ever wanted was for him to be happy. It was another thing to bring him happiness. Makes life a little worth living.

He eventually pulled away and nodded. He trusted you more than anything. Yet, sadly, your sweet moment was interrupted as one of his friends called over.

"E.P.! There is 5 minutes!"

You pulled away from Elvis softly. "Go on now, you'll do just fine." "I know, thank you." He says. Straight to the point. No hesitation. He had all the trust he could gather set on you.

His heart rate went to a normal speed for right now and he stared at you with adoring eyes. He kissed you on the forehead before getting up and walking towards the edges of the curtains, with his friends, coworkers, whatever. All of the fans were hollering as the lights dimmed.

"Shit, man.. I don't understand what took you so long." His friend made a snarky comment at Elvis. Even if Elvis wasn't even late. Elvis glanced over at you. He smiled a bit.

"Walk a mile in my shoes, Charlie. Then you'll get it."

The intro started and Elvis was ready to go, with a little help from his #1 fan. -----------------------------------------------------------------------

[ickadori]

[cws] fem/chub chub reader -> choji’s gf. voyeurism -> togame accidentally watches you two fuck :3 exhibitionism -> choji is into it. unedited.

Togame wonders how it works.

You two.

Choji and you.

You’re more than a handful in all aspects — big personality, big voice, big thighs, big hips, big ass, big tits…yeah, you’re bountiful.

And Choji is big in his own way — he has a big heart, a big ego, a big mouth that’s put him and Togame in predicaments that they just barely managed to fight their way out of, and that same mouth has landed him with you clinging to him like a lifeline.

The two of you getting together doesn’t perplex him — he knows his friend, has for years, and he’s heard the things he whispers into cute little thing’s ears, saw how he’s sidled up next them and felt them up while they giggled and fawned, experienced the many fallouts he’s had with past partners when he inevitably grew bored of the relationship.

He got around.

What does perplex Togame is how he keeps them. He’s not especially loose with his money—not to say he doesn’t have you adorned with whatever jewelry and clothing that catches your eye, because he does, but his money isn’t that long, so that’s not keeping a certain brand of woman around for long.

He’s not the romantic thoughtful type. Togame had witnessed plenty-a arguments about forgotten anniversaries, birthdays, and other prior engagements, and had blanched at the date plans that Choji had come to him for his thoughts on.

He’s a lit firecracker who’s worst fear is to sit still and take things slow, and he’s seen firsthand how that’s grated on people’s nerves and put them on edge.

So what the fuck is it?

Togame whistles a low tune as he walks, hands in his pockets, a white shopping bag encircled around his wrist, and shades resting on the bridge of his nose. The sun is just about to set, an orange glow overcasting the empty streets, and a cool breeze wafts against his undercut.

He rounds the corner onto his and Choji’s street, eyes falling on the sight of your car parked in the lot, and his whistling pauses for a moment before starting back up. He hadn’t expected you to be coming around tonight, he would have made plans to stay out longer and give the two of you some privacy, but he’s already got a date with the couch and the cans of beer in his bag.

Shit, it’s my place, too.

Why Choji doesn’t go to your place instead is beyond him, but Togame isn’t really complaining. You don’t get in the way, and when you do, he finds that he doesn’t mind the intrusion when it comes in a pretty package.

Key in lock and hand on knob, he pushes the door to their apartment open and kicks off his slides. The door shuts with a click and he turns the lock into place, jacket quickly discarded as well as he ventures further in.

The bag is placed on the counter and a can removed, and he wastes no time in cracking it open, cool can pressed to his lips as he takes a big swig. It tastes like shit, but it’ll start tasting like gold after the first two.

He swallows and lowers the can, takes a step towards the living room only for a chiming notification to make him pause again. A glance down to the counter reveals Choji’s phone on the counter, and the screen lights up to showcase the barrage of missed calls from his mother dearest.

He takes another swig and contemplates letting the calls rack up even more — his mom would come make a visit to chew him out, she had before, and the sight was always an amusing one.

“Ah, fuck it.” He snatches the phone up and begins to head back towards Choji’s room, ringtone suddenly blaring in his ear. He kisses at his teeth as his foot weakly knocks into Choji’s door, a door he had assumed would be latched, causing it to slowly open. “Choji, your phone. It’s your…”

His mouth runs dry at the sight before him.

Your face is pushed down into the sheets, hands clenched tight around a pillow, and Choji has your hips propped up to his liking. He’s got one foot on the bed, the other on the floor, and the muscles in his calf flex as he stretches up on his toes to drive his cock into you.

The sound the action makes is nasty — wet and sloppy and filthy. Choji grins at it, teeth showing and eyes big as he palms your ass, the plump cheeks rippling from the force in which his pelvis collides against them.

A shrill, muffled moan comes from you, and Choji barks out a breathless, rough laugh, fingers sinking into the fat of your hips as he goes faster, back bowing as he licks a stripe up your sweat soaked spine until he reaches your shoulder and bites.

“Choji!” Your head flies up, hands scrambling as you inch further across the bed. A sound resembling a growl leaves him, and his hands move underneath you to grab fistfuls of your swaying tits and squeeze. “Mmf, Cho—”

“Don’t run from me,” he rasps. “‘M not done with you yet.”

Togame leaves as quietly as he came, a cold sweat at the back of his neck and an uncomfortable weight in his balls.

He waits in the living room for you two to finish, and he refuses to look over when the both of you finally slink out of the room, a surprised noise coming from you when you notice him on the couch.

“Oh! Jo, I didn’t know you were here.”

“Uh-huh.” His beer can still sits full in his hand, and he rubs his thumb along the rim of it. “Came in about five minutes ago.” Right around the same time he heard you cry out for the last time.

“Oh, okay.” You sound relieved, a bit raspy, too, and against his better judgement, he glances over. Oh. You look throughly fucked - there’s no other way to put it. Your eyes are glassy, lips swollen, hair frizzed in some places, and there’s still a sheen of sweat glistening on your skin.

Choji is no better - dusty curls matted down and sticking to his skin, angry red lines adorning his shoulders and arms, and that satisfied grin on his face as he nuzzles into your neck while you get out the ingredients for a sandwich.

“Cut it like you did last time.” He moves to embrace you from behind, and the position sends Togame’s mind hurtling back in time. “You remember? The stars?” His hands squeeze at your sides, and Togame can see it clearly again, those same hands keeping you pinned down as Choji fuc—

“…Jo?”

He flinches as he meets your gaze, mouth running dry once again, and he wets it with his beer. Still tastes like shit.

“Huh?”

“You want a piece?” You smile and he chokes.

“Huh?”

Choji snickers, face hidden away in the crook of your neck, save for his eyes that Togame down, his knowing eyes.

“Of the sandwich? If you like it, I can make you one, too.”

“Do I want a piece?” He repeats the question, and the corners of Choji’s eyes crinkle, his hands disappearing underneath your shirt as you swat at them. “Yeah…yeah, I do.”

Togame doesn’t wonder anymore.

[kimingyuslover]

Screen time

Synopsis : Soonyoung can only see you on his screen now.

Word count : 904

Pairing : Kwon soonyoung x reader

Genre : angst, lovers to exes

Warnings & note : TEARS, soonyoung's an ass, members mentioned, mention of alcohol, one (1) curse word, a few paragraphs are the literal lyrics lol, this fic does not represent his character in real life!

a.n : reading through the screen time lyrics translation today, WHY IS IT SO SAD???? anw sorry for my bad grammar

“Come on soonyoung, it's been what? 2 hours and you still checking your phone” Jun said while patting soonyoung's back lightly.

It's been a year since they broke up, and soonyoung still can't let you go. The worst of it? He's the cause of the downfall of your relationship.

Soonyoung failed to realise that he's an ass throughout your 3 years relationship, and when he did, you cuss him out and start to pack your belongings.

“I still love her, jun. it hurts" Soonyoung held his left chest, feeling the pain from his heart, tears welling in his eyes waiting to fall every now and then.

Jun gives him a sympathetic look, soonyoung’s other 11 friends are also worried about him, he refused to do anything except checking his phone as minutes pass, and they are aware of the reason.

It’s you.

When they heard about your break up, they didn't dare to do anything because deep down they know, this is the best for you, even though soonyoung have to be a miserable man.

they've seen the way he treated you back then, seungcheol remembers, the way soonyoung don't want to come to your third dinner even when he say he would come, and he easily lied to you that he exhausted so he sleep early last night even in reality he go to a club with them.

They tried, and they really tried to talk to soonyoung about his relationship. You always have to message them to know about soonyoung's condition.

They saw your disappointed expression when you have to pick up soonyoung the night you're supposed to have an anniversary dinner.

And they know you're done taking soonyoung's shit when you have to pick him up, again, and with the same expression as the night of your anniversary.

So when soonyoung said you both broke up, they're not surprised at all. The least they can say is that soonyoung doesn't deserve you, and he never will.

The night of your break up, soonyoung seems fine, and he always said that to everyone, but as days passed, he seemed to worsen more

His eye bags are prominent, and everyone can point out that he's not sleeping for at least 2 days.

Meanwhile, they can see you grow happier, away from soonyoung. Joshua, along with Wonwoo, are in the same department as you, and he can see the way you would always smile genuinely now. Before your break up, your smile always seemed to be forced.

After 1 month, soonyoung always stared at his phone, hoping that you would update anything, anything to your social media. You blocked him as soon as your relationship ended.

Then, you did, you’re always updating your life through social media, and he can clearly see you look so happy without him. He learned that it was, in fact, true because when he sees your old post, you don't seem to be happier than now.

Soonyoung cried everynight, wanting no more than to have your relationship back, to have your attention back to him.

He missed waking up to your eyes, and now he has to see them on his screen, both of his hands are occupied holding onto your relationship, and he keeps forgetting there is no relationship until the night returns and he gives himself up to slumber.

It's hard to let go of your relationship.

You're living as if nothing happened between both of you, you're colder than he thought, he feels naked and his heart is cold without you.

his worries were in vain, you're doing just fine without him, from your words to your happy photographs, he actually relieved, you're getting better.

Because he knows you're not going to get better if you're still with him.

He always wants to contact you, asking you how have you been? How are things? Is work going well? Are you taking care of yourself? Do you have any regrets?

He can't stop checking up on you. He worries about you everyday and night.

Your smile once an arrow that guided him, now it pierces his heart, he used to hate the attention you gave him, now he misses the attention that you gave.

He knew his regret was meaningless, he's sorry for the time you spent with him.

The days fade into the distant horizon, and your memories rise and fall. It's late, but he's sorry.

In the end, you're both going through different separations.

He wants to ask you another question, are you broken like him? He wants to know what you're eating and drinking these days and what you find happiness in.

He always wonders, what are you wearing today? who makes you laugh, who holds your hands, where you are headed.

He's just curious. This is how he has been, miserable.

“Tell the others we're going to the club, they can join us, i think i need more drinks” Soonyoung said as he got up from the couch and took his jacket, wallet, and lastly his phone.

Not even a minute later, his phone let out a sound of a notification he just set for you, he quickly checked his phone and opened his social media.

It was a photo of you, but you're not alone. There's a man hugging you close.

his eyes finding your caption in a fast motion, his heart breaks, yet again.

my boyfriend is getting more clingy lately

[blank468]

Oh look another unhinged wonder boy Stan who thinks every scene with Bakugo and Deku has to deal with romance. Once again I’m not revealing who this person is to protect their identity but you’ll most likely find them on Twitter if you search hard enough. Three things in particular that proves that they don’t care about what’s happening in the story or if it even makes sense. The only thing that’s important to the eyes of these people is whether the Green Jesus and the Creator’s pet will bang or not.

I’m not sorry.

“Katsuki being overly protective in their relationship, he's always making sure to keep Izuku in line. In an actual relationship it's good to have a partner who is making sure you're not mistakingly saying anything private or personal.”

This person tries to claim that after their second fight, Bakugo was being over protective to Deku as in the way he acts and treats him moving forward is another sign of love. Yeah because him throwing his sharp head piece into Deku head causing him to bleed is a sign of protection and love. Deku in that scene wasn’t even talking about his improvements with Blackwhip out in the open, he said that all in his head. The only I can think of as to B***h boy doesn’t like to see Deku be happy about anything. How romantic.

There was also that one scene in the Endeavor Agency arc where Deku was explaining his quirk and how he wants to improve to Endeavor and Bakugo gets triggered. People like to make the argument that Deku was telling him way too much information about OFA, but does it really matter? Endeavor surprisingly understood what Deku meant and didn’t reveal anything that would get him caught.

I know that Deku almost revealed OFA out in the open(USJ Arc), but that clearly on accident and was in fear for All Might’s condition. And after that he clearly understood how important it was to keep the secret hidden, until the neighbor’s Pomeranian decided to step in and make things insufferable.

So basically Deku was actually being the smart one with these situations and Bakugo was just full of s**t.

“Being vulnerable in a relationship is also important because you feel safe and comfortable enough to show your true emotions around the other, which is Katsuki in this case.”

While being vulnerable is essential in a relationship, that does excuse your behavior and how you treat your partner especially if it’s extremely toxic and stressful. This series can go on all it wants on how Sweaty Pits here feel insecure and vulnerable when he doesn’t get what he wants, but none of that changes that fact that Bakugo had no right to defend himself or justify his shitty behavior when he knows what he’s done is wrong. And even after he EXPRESSES his emotions after losing in technicality to Deku in the battle trials and throwing a child like tantrum all because he wasn’t picked to be All Might’s successor, it doesn’t really matter cause the story finds a way to reward him and guilt trip Deku for no reason.

“Katsuki wants to spend the rest of their lives chasing each other. He wants a future with Izuku and he broke down in front of him cause he's scared they won't be able to.”

Yeah cause apparently there aren’t enough moments where D**k cheese here wins against Deku. All the physical and mental torment Deku had to go through has no meaningful conclusion and are now pointless because the story now decides it wants to support the worst kind of deviant behavior. We have to go through another damn fight/situation that goes through the same process.

1. Deku and My Sweaty Pits git in to a fight.

2. Deku despite being broken AF loses to Bakugo

3. More gloating

I just accepted that Horikoshi will never let his main character beat his most popular character ever in a fight. We’re just supposed to accept the idea that Bakugo is able to beat Deku despite the fact that his victim has several different quirks that could have killed him. I can only imagine if get another round with these two idiots, we all now who’s going to come out on top.

In conclusion, this person and the rest of these stans are delusional.

[pfhwrittes]

no but wait what if werewolf!reader has a major scent kink and gets annoyed with the 141 wearing deodorant? i mean think about it, chemical smells must be offensive as fuck to such a sensitive nose.

gaz is probably the worst culprit for wearing cologne which smells wonderful to a human nose but is olfactory hell for werewolf!reader. it clings in a way that natural scents just don't, astringent and cloying on every inhalation. werewolf!reader can't help the way their nose crinkles in disgust whenever gaz walks past. unfortunately it makes him spritz a little more on after showering because gaz thinks that werewolf!reader thinks he smells "bad" (aka like a human being) and werewolf!reader ends up avoiding him to minimise the migraines his cologne causes.

don't worry he catches a clue after werewolf!reader stumbles out of their room after a 3 day migraine and faceplants directly into gaz's lap begging him to never ever wear that cologne again please. gaz switches over to arm & hammer unscented deodorant after that too. it's not completely scent free but it's way less offensive than his previous combination of cologne + deodorant and gaz is rewarded by werewolf!reader spending way more time with him than before.

price reeks of tobacco. everything he touches has a faint lingering scent of stale smoke that makes werewolf!reader smother coughs even when he isn't actively puffing on one of his admittedly expensive cigars. werewolf!reader ends up standing upwind of price as much as possible but still coughs whenever price lights up.

eventually price gets so fed up of the constant coughing and badly hidden grimaces that he slaps multiple nicotine patches on his arms and chews his way through endless packets of nicotine gum just to avoid it. werewolf!reader definitely prefers the hint of peppermint on price's breath when they're close enough to get a hint.

soap refuses to wear deodorant if he can't wear his favourite brand and somehow his favourite brand goes missing within a day of purchasing it. he tries keeping a little stash in his room, locker, gym bag but they all go missing too.

he definitely sulks and grumbles about stinkin' out the place but it's worth it when werewolf!reader seems to lean in subconsciously when they're in the gym together. he could swear he saw werewolf!reader's nostrils flare and felt them shudder happily when he slung a sweaty arm over their shoulders one time.

ghost is complicated. he has the least offensive smell to werewolf!reader but that comes with it's own set of problems. ghost constantly smells of himself, the iron tang of dried blood and something like cordite. for werewolf!reader it's positively mouthwatering. the problem is that ghost goes out of his way to avoid werewolf!reader. they're too tactile, too friendly for his liking and it makes his skin crawl that they seem to sway into his space at every opportunity.

(the less said about the way his heart skips several beats in his chest when he catches werewolf!reader burying their nose in his sweat drenched t-shirt while holed up in a safe house together the better in his opinion.)

[moondragon618]

Hmmm thinking about early season 1 dsmp before canon lives were implemented and how much less serious everything was, with death being nothing more than a minor inconvenience at worst and in some cases being indistinguishable from affectionate roughhousing lmao. And also the way that even after canon deaths are implemented, death has actual weight and consequences, and everyone's behavior shifts accordingly to fit the more serious tone, Dream's attitude towards death remains exactly the same. If anything it even starts to shift in the opposite direction as time goes on, him seeing everything more and more as just a game where death and violence are simply just part of the bonding experience :)

It's just. Something about the contrast between how Tommy reacts with mild annoyance to being killed repeatedly by Dream during the disc war and the way he reacts with visceral panic and horror when Dream threatens to do exactly that again during their post prison break confrontation makes me absolutely insane. The stakes are now literal life or death (and for Tommy in particular, life or an eternity of literal torture) and Tommy reacts exactly as you would expect- because it's not a game for him anymore- meanwhile Dream is still exactly how he was in S1, just a guy playing a game and having a fun little friendly rivalry with his best friend and favorite plaything little brother :) :) :)

And definitely not clinging desperately to an idealized version of the past that he can never return to and perhaps never really existed while also desperately trying to maintain his power over a server that is slowly leaving him behind, all while doing everything in his power to drag Tommy down with him-

And like this isn't to say that he doesn't know what he's doing or is in any way justified bc he absolutely does know the weight of his actions and the pain and suffering he's causing, and he's having the time of his life doing it lmao :) If anything his actions now having that kind of impact on everyone (and especially on Tommy) just makes it all the more fun for him :) :) :)

[cinematic-phosphenes]

About Blood & Cheese and Daemon:

What if Daemon knew exactly what he was doing? Sending two bumbling fools (one of whom has no combat training and can’t even fight anything more formidable than a rat) after that one-eyed, one-man army Aemond was a dumb idea likely to fail. And Daemon is not dumb.

He told Blood and Cheese he wanted a son for a son. (Blood: “A son for a son, he said.”) He warned them Aemond is dangerous. He waved a fortune in front of two people desperate for money and told them they’d only get the second half if they brought back a head. And the last part of the conversation between the three of them was very nudge nudge, wink wink.

Cheese: “What if we can’t find him?” (Translation: I’m not taking on that walking anime villain Aemond. I don’t have a death wish.)

Daemon: “Serving a meaningful look in the federal crimes hoodie” (Translation: A son for a son. Do your worst.)

So which royal sons are in the Red Keep apart from Aemond? Aegon and Jaehaerys. Aegon is the king and likely to be so heavily guarded that B & C wouldn’t get anywhere near him. (And for reasons unknown Aegon was the only royal in the Red Keep who had a security detail on them that night. Well, apart from Alicent, but Criston Cole wasn’t technically on her.)

That leaves Jaehaerys, a defenceless child, the most likely option B & C will go for considering their skill set. Daemon most likely knew that if any Green royal son was going to die that night, it was going to be Jaehaerys. B & C killing Aemond was a pipe dream, but Daemon saw an opportunity to potentially take out the Green king’s heir and he took it.

Why?

Rhaenyra wanted justice for Luke. Killing Aemond would be just given how Westerosi law and order seems to work. Daemon just wants cold-blooded revenge. He wants to wound the other side as badly as they've wounded Rhaenyra.

Would Rhaenyra order the killing of an innocent child? Probably not. Taking out the Green heir is a very strategic move that would destabilize the Greens and benefit Rhaenyra’s side, but Daemon would have to do it behind her back.

The Greens might blame Aemond for what happened to Jaehaerys, given it was a retaliation to his fuck up at Storm’s End. If the Greens turn against the man controlling their biggest nuke, that will destabilize them even more.

Rhaenyra is practising restraint even after what happened to her son. Does Daemon think the Greens will practise the same restraint if their young son is killed? He probably doesn't. From Daemon's POV, this is likely to start the all-out war he's been frothing at the mouth for.

Daemon was frustrated that Rhaenyra was mourning Luke instead of fighting the war. Rhaenyra is not moving on to other matters before she gets justice for Luke. But taking Aemond out at this point is difficult to impossible. From Daemon's POV, they'd be stuck unless he moved things along. Post B & C, Daemon can say he tried to give Rhaenyra what she wanted, he tried to get Aemond for her, but it failed unfortunately. He got what he wanted and he has plausible deniability.

Daemon probably thinks he's helped Rhaenyra's cause by doing this. He's being loyal in his own messed up way. He's the Rogue Prince King Consort. But this is not what Rhaenyra wanted and she probably won't be happy with Daemon at all.

[sapphiel]

Any facts about Envy and/or Abaddon? If not, that is completely fine with me.

Envy is an artificially created demon, specifically a yaoguai, a demon infused with the essence of an animal.

She was created by another demon who was a grieving father, mourning the loss of his beloved daughter, envying those who got to keep their own children. After years of searching for ways to bring her back, he found a way to create yaoguais. In the end... Envy was the result. A corrupted form of his daughter who doesn't even remember herself.

Her former name was Mariah Julia.

Being half-chameleon, Envy has a prehensile tail, a long sticky tongue, can change her appearance to become invisible or even resemble someone else, and her back pair of eyes can move independently and give her unparalleled vision. Strangely, her fingers and toes are also adhesive, much like a gecko.

Her name is gotten from the fact that not only was she born out of envy, but she secretly yearns to be like other people, be they demon or not. She feels incomplete, a disappointment... and maybe someone else's life is a lot more fulfilling than her own.

Abaddon is the Lucifer of Treachery, the lowest of the lows. Lucifers are demons branded by Hell as sinners and criminals that not even fellow demons can tolerate. He bears the worst title, the Ninth, after manipulating several people into getting his own way, like tricking other demons into crimes so that he may report them to Hell to be branded as other Lucifers, and even seducing higher authorities just so he may ascend in power.

His punishment as the Lucifer of Treachery is the fate of non-existence. He was sentence to vanish from reality for as long as no one is thinking about him. Several millennia had passed since his banishment, and only just recently had he returned to reality due to complicated reasons.

Formerly an overachiever who wants to ascend in life, Abaddon is now extremely nihilistic, and wants to be rid of reality. His current goal is to find the child he made with an angel long ago in order to harness their power. Demons and angels in Schism form a race called the nephilim, nicknamed "godkillers" for their potential to overthrow even the mightiest of powers. He seeks to use his child's power to hopefully destroy The Schism, and end not just the world, but reality as we know it, so that all will cease to exist.

In relation to the other Lucifers, he is actually the reason for the other eight's (technically nine) imprisonment: He pushed for Archibald's dream of a truce with angels but reported him as a traitor to Hell (Limbo), blackmailed Jezieka's lover for her indulgence in cannibalism, only for Jezieka to offer herself to be punished in her stead (Lust), corrupted Lady Vylke into consuming massive amounts of demon flesh then had her reported (Gluttony), tricked Tytus and Dima into robbing a bank of Fodere (the Circle of Greed) then lured them into a trap for capture (Greed), seduced Ariel when she was a lieutenant so he may climb the ranks with her graces, who eventually went insane with anger after finding out his betrayal (Anger), goaded Heresy into forming an army to fight the government of Hell only to rat her out in the end (Heresy), captured the general that was Red Lady mid-war for her acts of extreme and unwarranted violence (Violence), and finally, reported his own right hand, Adarahiel, who knew everything, to the authorities so that no loose ends remain.

His child, Morticia, does not know her true origins, as her angel mother had sacrificed her body so that Abaddon cannot lay his hands on either her nor the child, and she initially know she was a nephilim. Eventually though, Abaddon will find her, possessing and corrupting her, then ensuing a grand battle that causes a lot of the Schism's greater powers to unite against the Treacherous menace who dared to rear his head again after millennia of silence.

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

What if in Earthspark, Optimus and Megatron had a sparkling together after the war and destruction of the Ground Bridge?

They would be considered the first Terran, given they were sparked on Earth and lived there for most of their lives.

And while they enjoy Earth and have a good relationship with both of their creators, they can't help but feel uncomfortable with how they were enemies in the past and both led their own armies that fought and brought destruction to the planet and its populace.

But still there happy for the most part with there family and are great friends with the new Terrans and the Maltos.

Ok but imagine the fucking baggage of having those two as parents. Because while the kid might have been shielded from the worst of it when they were young (kept in the dark, the more gruesome details being omitted), it's only a matter of time before they find out the scale of the war. Billions died. Cybertron was left a desolate landscape. Lives were ruined. And at the very heart of it all were their parents. Two bots that, for millions of years, tried to kill each other.

Imagine the kid meeting Soundwave. Or Starscream. Seeing the direct results of Megatron's actions. Not just his betrayal of the decepticon cause, which he encouraged bots to live and die for, but also the abuse that he employed against some of his own people. Megatron is a better person now, kinder, but that doesn't erase what he did.

The kid would end up with two different images of their Megatron; the gentle parent that they know and the cruel warlord. It must be so hard to try and even reconcile that they are the same person.

Not to mention Optimus. Jesus Christ, that's a mess on its own. Because yeah, to them he's kinda goofy, the fun parent that makes dad-jokes and goofs around but he was a leader too. He inspired bots to fight, even when there appeared to be no end in sight. Not only that but he's a Prime, a chosen one some would argue, and you can't tell me that some autobots didn't get fanatical in their devotion to the cause and to him. And now he's just some guy? Or at least trying to be?

And both of them just left all of that behind. Left Cybertron, left their armies and settled down on Earth, like they could start anew. How wild is that? That they could just dump those responsibilities and start this new life? What about their armies? The bots that fought for them? What did they think about the fact that their leaders were now together and have a child?

It feels like another betrayal.

Know this turned out a bit more angsty/serious than the initial prompt suggested but this just ignited something in my brain and made me go a bit hogwild.

[starfxkr]

Reader finding out JJ is unhinged and bribing him with pussy to scare off her weird stalker ex bc she knows he’ll do it 👀👀

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧

you didn't wanna think of it as selling yourself out, but that's what it felt like in a sense. granted, you knew jj wanted you and it's not like he made it a secret either. and with the way you ex was escalating his behavior you figured now was good a time as any to accept jj's "date."

it didn't take long for him to be on you either, he had you in the backseat less than 30 minutes into the excursion and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't wanted it on some level. so you let jj have it--kissing and sucking on your neck while he brings his hands under your shirt and you stop him, you have to play tis right.

"jj--wait..." he's reluctant to pull off but he does, lips swollen and pupils blown wide with his hands caging your ribcage, you almost wanna say fuck it and let him go ahead, "i really wanna do this but..."

"but?" jj's eyes are darting around, his whole body is tense like he wants to bolt.

"it's my ex."

his hands flex around your waist, his tone is clipped, "what about him?"

the sigh you let out isn't feigned this time, and you genuinely start to feel anxious, "he won't leave me alone. fuck i won't be surprised if he followed me out here! i can't do anything without him knowing and causing a scene. and nobody will listen to me. they think he'll just let it go at best or at worst they think it's 'romantic' that he's fighting for me." you were genuinely frustrated. his behavior was escalating and nobody seemed to care but you.

you can see the gears turning in his head, "i'll handle it."

this time you have to pretend to be shocked, you have to play a little coy, "i-i can't ask you to do that besides he won't listen to anybody-"

"oh i'm not gonna talk to him. i'll handle it though, don't worry bout it." he leans back in to kiss you, and somehow its even more heated than the first, like his newfound mission has reinvigorated him as he tries to practically swallow you whole.

you struggle to get a sentence out between kisses, "what-are you-gonna do?"

jj pulls back and he drags you until you're laid flat under him before he reaches under your skirt to pull your panties off, "don't worry that pretty head bout it mama, i'ma take care of you now."

god you hope you don't regret this.