#you should so you can hear how absolutely fucking delusional you sound

[sea-dukes-assistant]

All that effort to be reported, blocked, and publicly shamed.

Also, you're a piece of shit for advocating sexual assault.

[suguru-getos]

| Bully!Satoru Gojo x F!reader | Part 2 |

-> Part 1

Summary: You had just transferred schools, and your first day was an encounter with your new bully. He’s mean, terrifically hot & absolutely a menace. Though there’s more to that personna. Chapter Summary: After humiliating Gojo in the cafeteria, he has better ways to force pay-back. Hey! That shirt you ruined, was expensive.

Warnings: Oh he is a real piece of shit here with a barely there moral compass. Mentions of humiliation, bul!ying, belittling, teasing. The reader is slowly getting into an auto-pilot mode.

New chapter every week, comment down below if you want to be tagged! ^^

Taglist: @mc-reborn @tvdumarvelhpsimp @alula394 @getoxmahito @knanamii @he4rts444mi @localginger22 @animeisforkings @ran6ia @creative1writings @lenaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @nerdiel-has-no-braincells @zoemaelol @shoutascoffeepot

It feels like pure humiliation, the way you walked off from the cafeteria. Satoru stood there, the warm, sticky gravy sticking to him. It feels like a sensory nightmare. White hot rage simmering through the very marrow of his bones. He exhales, glancing up just to see if there was anyone dumb enough to enjoy his misery he could stomp on. Nobody had the balls to, nobody has the balls to until you come across.

What was your fucking problem?

He walked away from the cafeteria, long strides eager to seek you out and punish you ruthlessly for your deranged and depraved, bratty behaviour. Satoru Gojo is worshipped like the literal god, who the hell are you? Meanwhile, you, amidst all your molten courage flowing in your veins, were the epitome of anxiety. You can't mistake his blazing steamy rage filled blue eyes greying… to be anything but merciful. You're not delusional.

A veiny, pale hand gripped your hair, the other wrapped around your mouth as you were dragged through the lonesome corridor. You whimpered at the burn in your scalp and before you could register what was happening, Satoru was standing in front of you. Baring his hostile teeth as he grits. "You've done it." He's almost amused, contemplating what more he can do to you, what more can you really handle��� then again, does it matter if you can or can’t handle?

"Here's what's going to happen…" He pushed himself against your chest, unrelenting at how disgusting you might feel, transferring the filth on his shirt to yours. You struggled like a fish out of water. Satoru is taller, bulkier, stronger and you realize that soon enough.

"You will be my silly little pet, because guess how much this shirt costs?" He chuckled, whispering gravely against the shell of your ear. "1800 dollars, missy."

You feel shocked upon hearing the price, eyes widening as he slowly leaned his hand away so you could speak.

"Either you fucking pay me back, with interest for each day. Or you shut the fuck up and be my silly little pet for a month I will stomp on, my little useless errand girl. Sounds fitting to someone who looks like you, no?" He smirks, watching the colour fade in your eyes. He is sort of impressed by himself, the way he instantaneously thought of such a brilliant idea. That money means nothing to him, but not everyone is that blessed.

Once you finally gathered what was happening, you raised a brow. "Why should I be an errand girl to someone who collided against me and is now begging to be paid for his filthy shirt? Learn to walk properly asshole!" You spit back, eyes siren and jaw gritted.

"Kay then, I will ask your mommy and daddy to pay for their daughter's bullshit." He left your hair, the pain subsiding into a dull ache.

He wasn't fucking serious was he? You and your parents weren't essentially on the best terms, they have just shifted to Tokyo and while they would be willing to pay, your self-respect wouldn't allow you. Your mother would keep taunting you about this for the rest of your life… you really don't want that.

Satoru noticed the shift in your behaviour when he mentioned your parents - "Heh, guess they don't like you either huh?" He smirked, not caring how hard it would jab you. It kinda did.. but you couldn't care less. Not coming from him especially.

"10 days, of me being your errand girl." You wanted to be ploughed down into death once you uttered these words. There was nothing you could do anyways. Parents involving, not so much…

"A month." Satoru shrugged, smirking. He has you exactly where he wants. His sole goal is to make you cry every single day and make sure you apologize for being a little shit to him.

"And, you do whatever the fuck I say you to. If I tell you to clean my shoe with your tongue, you 'fucking' clean my shoe with your tongue."

Oh it felt like dying, like you were stabbed endlessly by a thousand swords when he said that.

"How do I know after a month you wouldn't bother me or my parents with the money?" Satoru raised a brow, smirking. "I'm a man of my word, little bitch." He squeezed your face in a single hand, watching your puckered lips. "I say you're free after a month, then you're free after a month, though you'll wish every single day that you paid me back." He chuckled, rolling his eyes as he let go of your face with a jerk, letting the back of your head collide a little with the wall.

You were so cute, small, stompable…

"See me when the school ends."

Satoru walked away with that, and your shoulders slumped. This is what it has truly come to? You needed some time to yourself after this, why are you always so pushy and so cocky? What if you didn't humiliate him… a month of sheer torture is what you've signed up for, just to not be tortured by your mother. Besides, it's a lot of money and you don't think your parents owe you because a shitty ass senior got pissed.

You dragged your feet to him, after the school ended. His whole group was present, they were busy chitchatting. Satoru perked up like a spoiled brat the moment his eyes glazed through you beneath the glasses. "My little lap bitch is hereeee~" He perked, walking towards you and smirking at how you grimace when you see the way he was treating you.

"Go, fetch us popsickles." He grinned, giving you the money. You didn't say anything, trying oh so hard not to slap him across the face and breathing out. "Mkay."

You looked up, counting the number of people, "Excluding yourself, no popsickles for you." He simply shrugged.

Oh he was getting beneath your nerves so bad. "I wouldn't buy them for myself." You explained anyway, "Don't wan' em." With that, you walked away, getting to the vending machine and getting those fucking popsickles which you rather wish were poisoned so he dies for good.

When you're back, he made sure you give them to everyone, made sure you give it to him- after opening the packet- and then dropped it.

"Whoops, gotta run again lil girl." He chuckled, his friends were… stunned too. Satoru is a cunt, they all know that. He pushes people through their limits but he's never been this much of an asshole towards any girl. Maybe because none of them did anything except slither around him and worship him.

You tear up, you have never… felt this humiliated in your life ever. Nanami gives his popsickle to Satoru, "Here, Gojo san. I don't want it. Please take it." He is so polite, kind… but his Senpai had other plans.

"Didn't you hear what I just said?" He raises his voice a little, and you are left with nothing but a reminder of him demanding this money from your parents. Your feet are stoned to the ground though, unmoving. "Okay." You managed to say again, taking a deep breath as you force yourself to the vending machine yet again, bringing back his popsickle.

You thought highschool would be fun, you would make new friends, go to karaoke parties, excel in subjects, in extra curriculars, whatnot.. you never expected yourself landing into the clutches of rich asshole Gojo Satoru.

Once you're back, you unwrap it again and give it to him. For fuck's sake he finally accepted.

"Kay, gimme your number." He extends his hand with his phone on it, letting you reluctantly add your number and saving it as 'Servant'. Showing it to you to rub salt on your wounds. "Off you go, see you tomorrow." He smiled. You were relieved you don't need to see his face for the rest of the day.

Once you reached home, you cried. All the emotions overwhelming you all at once. Guess he was right, he will make you cry everyday..

The rest of the day passes by in a haze before you find yourself back in school again.

"OH good morning little errand girl!" Satoru's presence looms, he was waiting for you at the entrance, you looked up at him. Not responding for now. You needed to get to class. OH so you're being indifferent now? Satoru is pissed…

"So eager to go to class, I have a job for you though!" He snickers, watching your stompy feet come to a pause. Good, you were still listening. He will push you a little more. "During the lunch time, go and bring my lunch for me, kay? You won't eat unless I finish." He smirked, walking away.

The problem is… it's not fun anymore. At least… not how it was when you retaliated. Maybe he shouldn't have used the money thing and just teased you when you had the means to push it back. You just nodded and left.

During the lunch time, you did as directed. Bringing his plate to him in front of everyone… oh it satiated his silly little ego so much.

Though he wonders if you will snap… finally. If not, he can just push it. No? He extends his hand to Haibara who reluctantly gave his water bottle to Satoru.

Before you could process what happened, you were drenched. The white shirt now translucent, showing your bra. Everyone laughed, some of them were gawking at how the shirt does no justice to you, now that it sticks to your skin, you look much more delectable. "Oops, my hand slipped." He says again, though he knows he's pushed this one too hard. Today was only the second day. Besides, a vile feeling erupted beneath him when he felt others gawk at you. Look away. Look. THE FUCK. AWAY.

Rolling his eyes, he puts his blazer on you, "Here, go get changed.." He mumbled, your silence was not helping. Not fucking helping when you shivered at the coldness of your body, how you just… took it. You didn't even cry, this was to be expected from him anyways.

You nodded, walking towards the infirmary alone. "For fuck's sake…" Satoru snarled, whatever left of his inner conscience slapping him hard as he followed you to it. Making sure you change your clothes and gave you a juice.

You were silent again, taking it from him. "Got nothing to say?" He raises a brow, "I thought you were all big and mean…" He emphasized again.

"Nothing to say. I expected worse." You shrugged, walking away. You expected 'worse'? What kind of worse…

"What the fuck do you mean?" He holds your wrist, "You know, like beating me the fuck up or something." You looked at his eyes. Wow… you truly think of him as vile and disgusting don't you? Why does it pinch him so hard? He's done nothing but bother you and made you believe he is trash.

"Kay." He mumbles, walking away. He's the one bullying you and he's the one being bullied at the same time.

Satoru Gojo doesn't bother you for the rest of the week and the weekend after.

Monday… he asks you to hold his bag for him all the way to his home. Watches you cutely manage both yours and his bag when he could easily hold your bag and you…

You're panting softly when you reach the Gojo estate, cutting the call from your mother and texting her you'll be late. "Here's your bag." You gave it to him and he took it from you easy peasy. "Alright, well.." He can see the sweat beads on your forehead, the way you are twisting your shoulder for relief. Suguru has already stopped talking to him because of this behaviour. You look cute, even when you piss him off so bad.

"Go run home." Satoru scoffs and leaves. Maybe he should just shorten the duration from a month to 15 days… but then, would you become the rebel he liked you to be or would you just ignore him…. contemplation, contemplation… and lots of contemplation.

[metranart]

Mikey x Reader x Draken (Tokyo Revengers)(Part 8)

Being a gang leader doesn’t leave a lot of free time and having hit the critical age of the hormonal teenager, Draken and Mikey are beginning to feel the raging urge of having some needs meet.

They knew what was to come, same reason why they kept you at arm reach. 

Now that their brains aren’t a pool of hormones and lust, they realized how instead of being gentle and tender as any first time should be, it was animalistic bordering primal. You basically drove them to the edge of insanity, and they willingly fell into the spell.

Spellbound still, they follow closely behind you, trailing your every move with attentive eyes, internally ready to chase if they need to, to restrain if is necessary and to beg if you force them to it.

All in hopes of keeping you for themselves. They want you to have their kids, share their dreams, conquer Japan along them—… not in that specific order but you get the idea.

You walk moving quickly but quietly. The idea to go find your own gang leader passes through your mind briefly, but you dismiss it. Draken and Mikey’s gazes are on you like a hawk.

If you miraculously manage to escape and go to Elliot's, -you sigh, long and breathlessly- imagining being beside him and under his protection. Your body tenses at the prospect of running away, maybe straight to a cop—

“Such a long sigh,” you hadn’t taken more than three steps when Mikey cuts short your plans by snaking an arm around your shoulders. “Tell me, (y/n), were you planning to run away?” 

 You wrinkle your nose at being discovered. His eyes study you as you stand frozen beside him. 

“Nah, my Babygirl is not such a dummy,” he states, voice heavy with sarcasm. “I wonder where you were off to?” Mikey continues, and soon Draken joins as well.

“Perhaps she fancies another restaurant,” the tall blond suggests, airily.

“Feeling a little peckish, are we?” Mikey replies, playfully, his attention solely on you. “—Looking for another sip of milk? You can have some of mine, if you like.” The Toman leader smirks at seeing you blush hard, and you can hear Draken chuckle.

Your injured hand is wrapped in fresh bandages, you feel exhausted and weak, your crotch is sensitive and your body aches. It might be safer to play along and then plan an escape route. 

His wicked laugh draws your attention back to him.

“My, my Kenchin... how very little our girl is.” Mikey notices, glancing back at his friend, taking in count how your whole frame is dwarfed by his. “Humor me, (Y/N). How old are you?” he asks, and you hate the sound of his patronizing voice. 

Drawing yourself up, you respond with as much pride and dignity as any gang member should have.

“Not old enough, Manjiro,” you snarl, trying to shake him away from you to no avail. “You just raped a minor—” 

Draken sighs, claiming the other side of the sidewalk to walk right next to you. Flanking you. 

“So very young, indeed.” The tall blond shares, calmly, “but so are we, and sex between teenagers is NOT legally rape…. more like mildly disappointing for society, but not jail time.” Draken patiently explains, and your fists clench, painfully. 

“That’s fairly horrifying, ain’t it?” Mikey croons and you bared your teeth at them, a mocking imitation of a smile. “Plus, you being our girlfriend, ummm-” he taps his lips thinking, “is not rape at all, it was our first time. Lovers sharing an intimate—” 

“Do NOT call me your fucking girlfriend, delusional asshole!”

You raise your voice, moving slowly to your right towards his left side, but he catches your subtle motion and mirrors it casually in his own. He laughs at you, then, and it absolutely prickles your skin.

“Delusional asshole?” Mikey repeats in a spoiled, childish voice, “-that seems like a bit too harsh, don’t ya think, baby?”

You are about to mitigate any kind of hope Manjiro Sano may be harvesting in that blond sick head of his when Draken towers over you, leaning so closely that you can feel his warm breath against your face.

“(Y/N), please, don’t presume that because we allowed a little disrespect, we will continue to endure it,” his eyes seem darker than ever up close, and your body's involuntary reaction is to try to run to which he catches your forearm in his firm grip in an almost lightning-fast motion.

“I can catch you-” he warns, a little upset by your foolish attempt, “I will catch you, and it’s quite unseemly for a girl to be dragged back like a spoiled brat, don’t you think?” 

Draken’s face is so close that you are only a breath away from a kiss, or head-butt him but neither would have a happy ending for you, so you back down and allow them to believe that you have given in.

“—And just like that all her fight is gone.” Mikey says between merry laughter, eyes creasing while he sticks his front to your back in a possessive hug. “Give her a break, Kenchin, she's just getting used to us.”

Graciously offering you his hand, Draken sighs and waits for you to take it, and after a couple of tense seconds, you do. As a sign of good omen between the two.

You can feel the bulge of muscles and the twisting veins that ran from shoulder to knuckles just by the grip of his hand, it's not bruising but is firmer than what you expected. You shudder, imagining those powerful hands locked around your hips, driving himself deep inside once again.... and you being unable to stop him, once again.

“Why me?” you ask, suddenly, ice dripping from your tone.  

Mikey’s arm is around your waist, light as a feather on the wind as he aids Draken to escort you to the restaurant. A blush creeps up your neck when Manjiro Sano choose to deposit a chaste kiss on your neck instead of answering you, and before you can even think of ask again, Draken does the same but on your cheek.

And you puff some air, outraged. “The least you can do is answer me—”

“And that's exactly what we just did.”

Draken cuts your outburst short to then fall silent. 

“Please,” you whisper, your voice hardly there. But their heads turn towards you slightly, and their attention makes you feel brave enough to continue. “Please let me go. I want to go home, I just want to go home, I’ll do anything! I’ll renounce to my gang, I’ll convince Elliot to…to…not do anything against you, I’ll do anything!” You stutter, finally reaching your breaking point.

“You have nothing to offer us.” Mikey claims in all calm smoothness, trying to pass some of that energy to you. You know they don’t care about any you have to offer, even so, you need to try. “Plus, you are not our prisoner, just our girlfriend-”

“What's the difference?”

The words leave you before you can stop them and both stop suddenly and release your hand and waist, turning towards you.

“Loving can heal—” Mikey proclaims, way too invested. You can clearly see in his eyes that he believes what he is saying. “—But you need to give us a chance to let us make up for what’ve we done, okay?”

Maybe this was their way of apologizing for violating you in every possible way.... did they believe that this could be erased and the three of you would end up being a happy polyamorous couple?

You stood quiet for a moment, staring into his startlingly beautiful dark eyes. He was handsome, and sometimes –like now– he even seemed kind enough, though his words were firm and good intentioned, you knew better than to listen to them. 

So, without answering, you turn from them coldly, taking a few testing steps ahead of them. 

“–Just walk.” You hear Mikey advise; gaze firmly set on your every move. 

“Don’t run… we won’t be able to stop ourselves if you run.” Draken warns, his voice tight as if is taking him a lot not to chase you down. 

You were only a couple of steps away from them, but you could see the tension that it caused them.

Testing your luck and their small slip of freedom for you, you visualized the restaurant and move faster, they compensate for the speed but still don't grab you or pull you. Leaving you some air to breathe. Feeling a little -tiny- more in control, you trot demurely until you reach the door, and turn around.

Genuine surprise showing on your face when you noticed that they hadn't chase you.

“Not even a day ago I trusted you.” You remind them, “you spitted in that trust with your more than reprovable acts-….” their blank faces were hard to read, “-I’ve yet to trust you since.” 

Both blonds nod, understanding what you are saying but still unable to process why you can’t understand them as well.

“She’s going to be a tough nut to crack, ain’t she, Kenshin?” 

The aftermentioned smirks, “if she weren’t we wouldn’t be so interested.”

Mikey snickers at that, opening the door to follow you inside. “Damn right.” 

Both gang members enter and just start to walk, you are already inside a booth occupying the long seat of the right and leaving just the seat in front as their only option. 

“Scoot over, (Y/N),” Mikey orders, “Kenshin and I are far too big to share the same side—” 

“I never hear you complaining when you had to share the same, small and diminutive, bed….” You snarl out, and he looks down at you. 

“I’m hungry and tired, even if you find it hard to believe,” the leader of the Toman confesses and for the first time you notice the bags under his eyes. “If you don’t scoot over voluntarily I’m going to be forced to put you on my lap-” 

You’re quick enough to swallow the gasp, and before it continues, you slide to the end of the booth.  

“Good girl,” Mikey praises, taking the seat next to you, sliding gracefully closer until feels the side of his thigh pressed to yours. Then he starts. 

“Communication based on threats will not help us grow our relationship,” Mikey begins to lecture you, and you feel your blood boil.  

“He’s right, little mouse,” Draken adds, taking the seat in front of you as he flips through the menu. “We ought to be civilized,” he instructs, offering you the menu, and when you take it, he doesn't let go, "do you think you can be civilized?”

Your lips purse, even so, you reply.

“Of course, Sweetie, whatever my dear boyfriend asks.” Your tone drips harsh sarcasm. 

“—I know you are doing it to spite me,” Draken begins letting go of the menu, serious facade yet soon his mouth curves into a smile. “… But you calling me your boyfriend really gave me goosebumps, doll.” 

A blush creeps across your cheeks when you frown, making it unable for them to know if its out of embarrassment or anger.

“Now I’m jealous,” Mikey pouts, “Tell me something pretty as well.” 

The blond asks unashamedly, as if your sarcastic comment were actually a show of affection. 

You ignore him, in order to read the menu and suddenly feel him take your hand nonetheless. 

You are about to snatch it back, violently, when you see him bowing, you feel the barest hint of his breath on your knuckles before he presses his forehead to them, instead of his lips. 

“I couldn't even bring myself to kiss your beautiful hand, my love—” he mutters, “Not when I can only think of kissing your lips.” 

When he look up, his eyes are blackened yet overflowing with a feeling that you refused to call love, and his tone as cold and composed as ever. 

“Knock it off, Sano.” You grunt, uncomfortable. “You can drop the act—” 

“It’s not an act, darling.” Draken cuts in, “It never has been.”

You try to snatch your hand away, but Mikey isn’t ready to let go, not without a token of affection. 

“Let go.”

He shakes his head. You sigh, burdensomely.

“You know what I ask in return.” He simply instructs. 

You would like to hit him but you are so emotionally and physically exhausted that you are reduced to saying.  

“Could my dear boyfriend let go of my hand?”

The blonde's eyes shine and placing a soft kiss on your knuckles before releasing you, he smiles.  

"Your boyfriend doesn't want to, but he will do it because he loves you." He announces and your nose wrinkles in disgust.  

You shake your head disapprovingly and he nods.  

“We love you.”

Draken adds.

“A lot.”

“You are delusional and confused—” 

"Whatever you feel, my love, we feel all the more," Mikey say slowly and clearly. His thumb reaches your cheek and brushes it, affectional. 

You flush a little in embarrassment, and he smirks, glad that you made his point easier. 

“The implication behind this blush tells me of how you don’t find us inadequate nor disgusting-” 

You seem to regret your involuntary body reactions, But unfortunately this only makes you blush more, much to the delight of both blondes.

“There’s hope,” Draken adds out of the sudden. 

“Yes, there is.” Mikey nods, “…. We only have to work for it.”

You're about to reproach him when his fingers gently fall on your lips, "and we will, gladly."

“You will fail.” You say in an icy tone. 

Both smirk, and Draken is the first to talk. 

“Wanna bet?” 

COMING SOON PART 9....

⭕️ In my PATREON you will find NSFW art of this story and lots of NSFW content from Tokyo Rev and other popular anime, exclusive smut fanfiction and more. Join our community and vote for the next smutty fanfiction.

[xoxo-greed]

Sooooooo my little filthy self would love to ask you if you could write about Jack eating his partner out? I mean: why having breaking when he can devour le (delusional) us

an: holy shit anon(s) yall give me the best things to write about jejejeje ‼️ Anyways, I tried to get this done quickly, so sorry if its a lil late!! enjoy guys

———————————————————————

Jack is one hungry guy, by that of course, is that he eats at-least two trays of the school breakfast. You always look at him with surprise, joking at his big appetite, although he always responds with the same thing when around you.

“I’m craving something different.”

He always says, letting you in suspense every. Single. Time. Lately though, he’s been eating more than before, he seems to be himself distancing too, you look at him, and for some reason, he always seems hot and bothered. His tail wagging like crazy, and ears slightly twitching with excitement. You wondered, “Why is he acting up like this?”

For some reason, you regretted and also enjoyed the fact how you found out.

A few days later, you were cleaning the History classroom, since the guys in your class are absolute animals and don’t know how to pick up for themselves, just to hear a door open and close, and your gaze meet with a confused Jack starring into your eyes. “Y/n? What are you doing here?” He asks, approaching you quietly, you smile. “Picking up after some classmates, is all.” You responds, bending down to get a few papers under the chairs.

You gave him the perfect chance.

Your stomach hit the flat area of the chair, normally where you sit upon, not lay, a flustered Jack behind you, and all you can feel against your uniform pants is a rock hard feeling. This can’t be happening.

“Stay there, okay?.. Just,- Quiet. Stay quiet.” Jack says with the utmost delicateness, but somehow still in a stern way. You couldn’t speak, only watched as the moans now tight in your neck trying to come out at the grinding Jack’s hips were situating against your now wet clit. You wouldn’t dare to speak, finally matching the pieces on why he was so hot and bothered, always leaving you behind, you were the only girl at NRC.

“Can’t handle one horny dog, seriously?” Jack tells you, broken up moans coming out of your throat, again, you wouldn’t dare speak.

Panties ruined, on the floor, and a beast-man on his knees, licking your slit with the utmost passion. “Jack-.. Jack!” You scream out, your hand covering your mouth to stop more sound from coming out. “What part of stay quiet don’t you understand?” He says, only squelching and lewd noises leaving your body, a tight little knot tied up in your stomach, and his tongue that keeps it tied up as he sucks on your clit, giving it a long lap, with that tongue of his. You can feel it, so hot, so fucking hot down there, getting the relief it needed with cold, wet saliva. You felt dirty, filthy even, but you don’t have the concept to stop him, all basic knowledge left your head when you felt his finger get wrapped by your gummy walls, nail markings on your thighs.

After a while of him working that climax up, your puffed clit tired from the feeling of such good pleasure surrounding the area, you let go, and Jack, admiring the way that white liquid is licked off by his tongue, letting it drip down his mouth.

“We should do this again soon.” He tells you.

AN: THANK YOU SM FOR READING! Remember, requests are still open!!! Ask for anything!! You’ll get it :3

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hey! I was wondering if I could request separate headcanons for Yan!Giyuu, Yan!Obanai and (aged up!)Yan!Muichiro for a reader who's personality is like Mulan. If not, that's fine! Have a good day/night and rem to drink water!

Ooooh! Okay, a really good Disney Princess! I wanna see how this’ll go!

Yandere! Tomioka Giyuu

Giyuu didn’t connect the dots for a long time that the new Hashira claiming to be a male was actually the daughter of a very wealthy family that wished to make her a traditional wife until he helped tend to your chest wounds

But when Giyuu did. He let his unknown feelings run wild and his passion he developed for you overtime run even wilder. He never wanted to admit it when he thought you were pretending to be a male, but he was falling for you

Giyuu is immensely proud of your independence and your courage. You’re not scared to fight and get dirty as you prefer it over being a helpless little wife to some man

You want to help in the war against demons, even though Giyuu is appreciative of your care and support, he hates the idea of you being put in danger as his obsession with you as a whole as grown to a unhealthy rate

He does silence a few people here and there who try to tell you who should be whilst pretending as if nothing happened. As if he didn’t shed blood for you

Giyuu is a supportive Yandere. What you want is what you get but not sometimes, all the time sometimes, he just wants to keep you in the Water Estate safe and sound, so you can’t let any demons dare try lay their disgusting hands on you

“You don’t have to wear that kimono with me, okay? I understand who you are… and I’m so proud of you”

Yandere! Iguro Obanai

At first, Obanai thought nothing else of you but another battle pawn in this war. Then he found about your dirty little secret and his world changed. He did like you a lot, but if he knew you were actually pretending to be a male, he would have spoken up sooner

Yes, Obanai know that you can sing very well as he watches you every single night from your window and he sometimes hear your nighttime lullabies in his head. He falls asleep to them as if you’re a siren

Obanai is the embodiment of overprotective. He will bark, hiss and attack absolutely anything to everything that makes a slight annoyance to you. Opinionated men say you can’t be a slayer, Obanai is plotting how he’ll hide their bodies

Like both Giyuu and Muichiro, Obanai is supportive of your dreams and like your loyal little assistant, he has the people hurting you at bay and your cause hide up in the air. His love does what she wants and he’ll make sure she can be who she truly is

He is delusional as fuck, over how you spend most of your time with him. He is the only person you’ve met that doesn’t view you as a wife but that’s interpreted by his love-rotten mind as you expressing your mutual love for him

Yes, Obanai wants you as his wife more than anything but he won’t try suppress you to being something you don’t want to be. He’d only suppress your freedom and keep you at the Serpent Estate to ensure you don’t leave him

“Who says a woman can’t use a sword? I think you fit the battlefield more than the kitchen, as you’re better than that wife shit”

Yandere! Tokito Muichiro [aged up]

Muichiro originally didn’t a single fuck about you as he thought of you as another Hashira but then, you begun befriending him and accidentally revealed your secret. It bumped you from ‘okay, you’re decent’ to ‘whoa, I actually care about you now’ in Muichiro’s head in a instant

Muichiro is possessive over you, he does truly believe you deserve to have your independence and willpower, but he doesn’t want you to go away anytime soon so he sticks himself to you like glue

He likes watching you sharpen your special Nichirin Katana as you hid it in your kimono before going out to a hangout with him. Why be defenceless? Even though, you don’t need to. Muichiro will drop anybody who tries to touch you and brutally too

His love for you bubbles up harder when you help protect him during a fight. He is a lot more skilled then you, yet, you care enough to risk yourself for him. He has mixed feelings over it; his delusions tell him that you did it because you love him whilst his obsession tells him you were in danger that he can’t bare

Muichiro has met your cute little animal friends; a cute little cricket and a red bearded dragon. Both are not that fond of Muichiro but he tries his best to make them like him so you’ll like him more. In reality, he hates them for having your attention and wants to kill them but that’ll hurt you

Your spirit is beautiful and intriguing, a little something that drew him to you and now, he knows he can’t live a single day without you being in it. He will take you away from the world at one point to stop his anxiety once and for all, but until then. You’re free

[thewholecrew]

@headstrongblake said: is there any way we can talk about what happened? / rev & nick

"what? talk about how instead of being there for someone who actually needed it, who fucking desperately wanted it we were off on some fucking stupid ass goose chase? how instead of me being there for alec and the girls, i was looking after your stupid ass? how you're absolutely delusional to think that grant would ever come back in the goddamn first place?!" rev fired off at him, words dripping in vemon. "talk about how alec could have fucking died, how the girls had to fend for their fucking selves to rescue him? THAT I SHOULD HAVE FUCKING BEEN THERE?" a snarl near animalistic escaped them as they sent their fist flying through the side of the dumpster, the noise echoing in a loud gong like sound.

nick had some nerve to try to talk to rev and he was lucky they left his precious little bar he abandoned for so long, otherwise they'd probably leave it full of holes. rage and hurt and guilt radiated through their body as they heaved a painful breath, aqua eyes sharp enough to cut and flickering with a wild flame. "what the fuck is there to talk about, nick? there's nothing to talk about. we all said going to find grant was a bad fucking idea but you did it anyways, and here i am equally a fucking idiot to go along with you, especially after the first fucking time we ran into him. and look at you now. all that, all that and guess who's still not fucking here?" they weren't holding back, couldn't even if they tried.

did nicklas deserve all the fury and hatred they felt in this moment? maybe not, they had a lot of guilt and shame for not being there for alec but they couldn't blame themself, it tore rev up inside because they loved him, they loved alec more than any of them and they almost lost him, they hadn't been there to save him, not like they had with the girls. and it was all nicks fault. "you're lucky they managed to save him," rev spat, "you're lucky--" they began, head shaking as they drew closer to nick with balled fists at their side, "because i swear to god i'd kill you if they hadn't. if it had been too late." the roughness in their voice was also almost animalistic and it was taking everything inside rev not to let the beast over take them.

they were more than sure nick felt plenty guilty, that rev probably didn't even need to kick him since he was already down but he had the audacity to come over and try to talk to rev. whether it was an apology or whatever fucking bullshit he had to say, they didn't want to hear it. "there is nothing to talk about," rev repeated in a snarl of finality as they tried to breathe through their anger before turning sharply and leaving nick standing out there in the dark alone.

[winns-stuff]

LO RANT:

There’s a reason why Rachel tweets passive aggressive tweets “calling out criticisms” and talking about how ridiculous they are and deleting them and genuinely I think it’s time to talk about it. I’m tired of her throwing rocks and hiding her hands, that’s like someone giving you a backhanded compliment and soon as you confront them about it they make it seem like nothing was said. It’s clear that she knows that her audience will always dick ride her no matter how delusional or disgusting their rebuttals for this story is, she clearly has no problem welcoming in all arguments if it’s on her side I wonder what that reminds us of.

But I once again think this is an attempt to make critics look like the absolute worse thing on earth. Because why would you actually clarify your reasoning for fucking up the themes of the comic so badly if you can just put on some crocodile tears and whine to your army about how bad people are being mean to you. Listen, I understand that criticism on your work isn’t what you want to hear at all I get it I’m passionate about my work as well and I’m hella fucking sensitive. But you get absolutely nowhere not making progress and it’s very clear to me that no one actually wants to see Rachel make her story writing better or develop her characters because if they did they wouldn’t be feeding her this nonsense about LO being the best comic ever. There’s tons of reasons why having yes men around you never work because they’re completely biased, they will look at any of your mistakes and overlook it, if you had a bad week they’ll convince you it was a great one, whatever bad decision you do they’ll back you up on it, etc.

This may sound like a good fanbase and wonderful friendship out in the real world but it’s actually pretty fucking harmful. There’s gonna be a time where listening to your diehard fans is going to make you completely delusional and shut you out from progress. Just like it’s doing now. A lot of the fans are not worried about the time and effort anyone puts into the story although they try and preach to us about it they don’t actually care about it because if they did I wouldn’t see most comment sections talking about Hades and Persephone having sex, I wouldn’t see posts that pertained them in bed together getting the most action, I wouldn’t see them posting and talking about the episode that may contain dumbass porn quotes. You see what I’m saying? They only care about one thing and they’re obviously not worried about the substance mainly because these people would pay money to see two people with no chemistry, no romantic bond, not even a fucking connection with each other dry hump. They don’t care about the story which is why those who want it so badly aren’t at all worried about how bad the story is going.

I’m only saying this because I’m tired of Rachel doing things specifically to get more heat on us when her fans should be held accountable more. It’s pretty amazing how she “calls out” critics but she’s never once called out her fans for saying degrading things about SA and what makes it count, victim blaming statements, misogynistic arguments, body shaming paragraphs, blatant racism, and very weird abuser x victim work. You’ve got a bunch of other stuff to worry about within your fandom because it seems to me that they are actively going against everything you and your comic supposedly stands for unless you actually don’t care about the themes and victims you yourself put into the comic and used it for profit because you knew the trope would attract more people.

[violetwinterwidow01]

MEMORY LANE (AU)

A/N: I meant to post this Jan. 1st, 2024, but never got around to it!!!

Feel free to reblog!!!

ENJOY

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

It's Cevyn and Bucky's 4th wedding anniversary, and their 9th best friend anniversary. But since Buck is on a mission, Cev has nothing better to do than go down memory lane from when they first go together.

Quick timeline:

Besties: Dec. 31st, 2014

Dated: Dec. 31st, 2016

Married: Dec. 31st, 2020

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Cevyn walks into the common living room finding Natasha, Yelena, and Clint.

Cevyn: hey guys

C/Y/N: hey! Happy anniversary!!!

Cevyn: Thank you, lovelies!!!

She joins them on the couch as they indulge in some action movie.

Yelena: We know it was yesterday and Bucky couldn't be here.

Cevyn: it's fine, I told him I'd figure out what I wanted by the time he got back today.

They hum.

Out of nowhere, She decides to ask a question.

Cevyn: ...Ya'll remember when i was such a whore back in 2021?

Yelena: SUCH A WHORE!!!

Natasha: ABSOLUTELY, HOW THE HELL COULD WE FORGET!?!?

Yelena: WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?!?!

The girls talk over each other making Cevyn laugh, while Clint violently chokes and spits out his beer. Cevyn and Natasha tap him on his back.

Cevyn: Yo, you good?

Clint: *cough, cough* No, no!!! *cough* Im not good!! I- I dont think i should be listening to this!!!

Natasha and Yelena laugh. He tries to get off the couch but nat pulls him back down and crosses her legs over top of his motioning Cevyn to do the same to keep him there. She lays her head in Yelena's lap.

Natasha: Sit down, she was a menace last year. youll wanna hear this!

He gives up. Sounds like good tea any damn way. (We all know Clint is one of the girls!!!)

Yelena: Cevy, what happened?

Cevyn: well after my 2 year relationship failed, i decided to have some... fun. Safe fun.

Natasha: Yeah, a WHOLE year worth of 'fun'.

Clint: that asswhole cheated on you didnt he?

Cevyn: yup

Clint sighs.

Clint: Why didnt you call me?

Cevyn: Cause i handled it... no ones gonna miss him.

C/Y/N: WHAT!?!?

She laughs.

Cevyn: im kidding!... maybe.

Clint looks at nat.

Clint: And what do you mean by a whole year?

Nat sighs and rubs her temples at the very fond memories of the year before.

Natasha: a different guy. Each day. 365 days in a year. You do the math.

Clint: CYNTHIA ELINA VALYN YAZMINE NOELLE STRYKER!!!

Cevyn side-eyes him at the use of her government name.

Clint: what the hell?!?! Didnt you have missions???

She smirks as Yelena burst out laughing.

Clint: my god

Cevyn: yup, i called upon him a couple of times. It was also more ladies than guys.

Yelena calms down from damn near dying.

Yelena: WHAT?!?! ARE YOU SAYING I COULDVE BEEN ONE OF THEM?!?!

Cevyn: im sorry baby, and it was only 364. I didnt have anybody on new years eve.

Yelena mumbles.

Yelena: could've had me...

Cevyn sits up and kisses her cheeks.

Cevyn: Maybe next time, boo. But Doesnt mean i didnt do anything though.

Yelena: whatd you do?

Cevyn: Well...

Flashback: Tony's Avengers ONLY New years eve pajama party 2021

Cevyn's PJs

(For once Tony didn't want a hell of a lot of people around.)

The party was BANGIN'!!! It was getting close to midnight, There was tons of liquor, everybody was dancing, Cevyn got so drunk she gave a full on lipsync concert. After that, she walked into the kitchen to grab some water.

When she walked in she saw her best friend Bucky and the one shady bitch she could never stand: Sharon. It seriously bothered her that bucky would choose that thing to date out of any woman in the world, which she reminded Buck daily about.

Theres a reason why Cevyn hates Sharon. Before Cevyn's last relationship, she caught the bitch sucking him off. After that, Sharon tried to act as if nothing ever happened. (Tryna be her friend and shit, bitch you know what the fuck you did!)

Finally, when she gave up and started dating Buck, Cev plotted her revenge. If bitches feel that they can take and play the delusional card, two can play that game. She walks over, purposely bumping Sharon out of the way to stand on her tiptoes wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a loving kiss on Bucky's cheek.

Bucky: Hi Cevy.

Cevyn: Hi Bucket.

Sharon scoffs as he wraps his arms around her voluptuous body, damn near feeling her up. He returns the kiss close to the corner of her mouth, a sight Sharon doesn't miss.

She shoves Cev out of the way. Cevyn was about to swipe Sharon across her face but Bucky caught her wrist and turned her around slowly.

As she opens the fridge she mumbles about how she was gonna snatch this hoe up by the hair on the nape of her neck and slang her on the floor resulting in dog walking her like the bitch she is.

Bucky: Sharon, the hell did you do that for?

Sharon: Oh, when she does it theres no problem, but when i do it there is?

Bucky scoffs, making Cev turn around snickering.

Bucky: Oh god, im not doing this with you.

Sharon walks away damn near on the brink of tears, which no one cares about. Bucky lets her go, reaching to grab a cupcake from the cake tower. As he grabs it, frosting gets on his metal thumb. Before he can grab a napkin, Cevyn takes his hand.

Cevyn: Dont worry, baby. Ill lick it up

Bucky: Its okay- oh shit!

Hes cut off as she latches her soft, plump lips around the tip of his thumb, gently sucking the tip. She pulls back with a pop that echos throughout the kitchen, even though the music is pretty loud.

Cevyn: What was that?

Bucky stumbles over his words trying to get out of the trance shes put him in.

Bucky: I-I- I dont-

Keeping eye contact, she kitten licks his thumb. She plays confused while smirking.

Cevyn: You dont what, baby? Whats wrong?

He continues to stammer and look between her eyes and her tongue rounding circles on his thumb, placing it back in her mouth.

Bucky: I dont know w-whats happening... but- but i like it.

She smiles. She moves to kiss his lips mumbling against them.

Cevyn: Mm-hm *kiss* I know you do *kiss* Keep your eyes on mommy, ok?

He nods absentmindedly slipping into a place he's never been before: ✨️SUBMISSION✨️ With his thumb back in its rightful spot, and continuous eye contact, she gets on her knees, holding his wrist, sucking faster. She unzips her onsie letting her tits spill out.

She places his right hand on her boob for him to squish. She moves her hand feeling him grow in his sweatpants. She moves off of his thumb to pull his sweats and boxers down to reveal his dick. Before he can say anything, shes fast like lightning, sucking his tip greedily then deepthroats him causing his knees to weaken and a string of 'holy fucks' to leave his mouth, catching him off guard. She giggles and moans sending vibrations around his shaft.

5 minutes go by and Sharon walks back in. She hears moans so she tries to be silent. She gets around the island and sees Cevyn on her knees with her eyes rolled back as Bucky fucks her throat. Cevyn looks over to see her standing with her jaw dropped. She sends her a menacing wink, smirking with her mouth full, cum dribbling down the side of her mouth.

She pulls away from Bucky swallowing every drop. She pulls up his sweats, using his thumb to swipe up his sweet sticky leftovers just to suck it off, and stands up to fix her clothes, but Bucky stops her picking her up to sit her on the island, and latches on to her nipple, making her laugh. She rubs her hands through his hair still eyeing up Sharon.

Cevyn: Enjoying the show?

Bucky turns his head, not so concerned about the situation at hand. Hes had a thing for Cev for a long time. But he made the mistake of dating Sharon to take his mind off of her. He smiles at her, picks up Cevyn wrapping her legs around his waist, walking out of the kitchen.

Cevyn: Paybacks a bitch, aint it?

Bucky: We're done Sharon.

Cevyn laughs. Bucky gets in the elevator.

Cevyn: where we going?

Bucky: To our floor. Where im gonna fuck you SENSELESS and make you cum so hard while we count down. Is that alright with you mama?

She smirks.

Cevyn: Yes, daddy.

End of flashback

As Nat and Yelena clapped and cheered, Clint sat puzzled.

Clint: didnt you ruin a relationship?

The girls laugh.

Cevyn: More like rescued Bucky because that shit show was doomed from the beginning. He's mine now, and I don't plan on letting him go anywhere.

Buck sneaks up behind. He gently pulls her head back, planting multiple kisses on her lips putting a smile on her face.

Cevyn: Hi baby.

Bucky: Hi mama. Happy anniversary.

Cevyn: happy anniversary. Oh, speaking of...

She gets up, rounding the couch.

Cevyn: I know what I wanna do now.

Bucky: Whats that?

She whispers in his ear.

Cevyn: Mind-blowing, life-altering, earth-shattering sex.

Without a second thought, he taps her thighs, signaling her to jump up.

Bucky: SOLD!!!

He runs them out of the room.

C/Y/N: BYE GUYS!

C/B: BYE!

Cevyn: IF YOU HEAR SCREAMING, ITS NOT ME!!!!

FIN.

[hapigairu]

@deathbirby mentioned you on a post “when I read a 3h fic involving the nabats I...”:

@hapigairu lol go right ahead

​Thank you!

So... um... I thought the idea of the fic was to have Edelgard in the Blue Lions or something? Why does it look like a retelling of CF? "rhea forces edelgard to transform into a nabatean and it's very body horror-ish. she's like a mad scientist, completely crazy, insane, delusional and everything you would expect from CF fanfic rhea." That sounds like something Cornelia would do, not Rhea. Dunno how cruel Rhea is supposed to be there, but the whole mad-scientist with horror-ish vibes is very much a Cornelia thing. I am very confused. "rhea talks about the red canyon tragedy and seteth even mentions how he's heard her screaming at night babbling for her mother to come save her and it's just.. kinda shrugged off cuz bad things in past doesnt let you do bad things now (hmmm hypocrisy)" I mean... that's true that you can't justify doing terrible things because you had a traumatic past, obviously... Except Edelgard can for some reason? What? Also if someone's traumatised to the point of "screaming at night" (though I don't think Rhea would do that, I could see her crying when she's alone though), maybe don't shrug it off and help them regardless of what they've done? Which... Rhea did some questionable things (and still it wasn't out of malice at all), but absolutely nothing so evil that she should be denied compassion or help? Am I crazy in thinking that?

"also something where the holy tomb splits or something (rhea had a hand in that im pretty sure because of course) and sothis's dragon corpse is in there and that alone makes draconic features appear on the nabateans (pretty sick idea all things considered)" Splits? But yeah, that's a neat idea (the whole draconic features thing)! "edelgard's sibling (???) is a massive rhea simp and very zealous because of course"

Sibling? Okay, why not. Maybe they didn't all die, which... good for them and Edelgard! I don't think it's a bad idea at all, especially since the drama potential can be very strong. But how did they end up simping for Rhea if they were basically prisoner of the Agarthans? How does that happen? I'm guessing it's explained, but... it better be a very good explanation for it to make sense. And yeah... of course you can't like Rhea without being a zealot. *sighs* "the agarthans are more sympathetic?? like you can have an agarthan standing next to seteth without him losing his shit. also the holy tomb is apparently an alien mothership now because why not (thales said that. why is thales even alive idk)" The Agarthans are just so comically evil that I can understand wanting to flesh them out and add some complexities to them. Personally, I'd like to think that some Agarthans living in Shamballah are really not cool with what Thales and the others are doing, but freedom isn't exactly a thing in Shamballah when it comes to "Surface Dweller Sympathisers" or something like that. Cause no group is a monolith and surely, there must a minority of them -however tiny- not okay with their leaders? Like, younger people who are just done with having to hear about Thales' hate spiel and just want to live their damn lives? Idk, maybe I'm completely off-base with this lol. But yeah, I can't see Seteth be totally calm and collected when someone who likely participated in murdering his race stands near him. Just... nope. "epic final battle against rhea! you got edelgard, hubert, jeralt(??) and byleth all up against rhea! and she holds her own quite well. and then byleth gets knocked out and sothis takes control to scold rhea. and because even her own mom is against her rhea loses her will to live (not literally but she actually does lose her immortality as punishment??)" That's...uh... huh. Sothis is a bad mom and somehow it's her daughter's fault because it's always her fault? Seems a bit fucked up if you ask me. "oh and you get fun moments where edelgard yells at rhea during the fight and throws arguments at her. she thrust nobility onto humanity (false), she made herself a false idol (??), etc." Ah, yes. Rhea is the reason why nobility exist. What's that? What about Brigid and Almyra? The fact that they have nobility shall be either ignored or still be Rhea's fault somehow. And like, we don't know exactly how the Church was created IIRC? Yeah, Rhea had a hand in it, but she wasn't the only one I'm guessing? It reminds of a fanart where -after the battle against Nemesis- some soldiers said they fought for her and she was really moved. Really nice fanart, hats off to whoever did it. "if im not mistaken, the author of the fic is a "agarthans are actually natives and sothis was a colonist" believer. so that should give you a general idea." Yeah, that checks out. It's such a shame that, for all the discussion about how everyone is supposedly morally grey (lol), not many people are actually trying to give Rhea and the Nabateans nuances. She's far from perfect (and she knows it actually) and she has so much potential as a morally-greyish but ultimately good person. But not even KT/IS (IS a bit more with FEH) are interested in being fair to her, so it's no surprise most people aren't either. And, ofc, no hate to the author. It's just disappointing to see that the Rhea hate is so prevalent.

[felsenbluete]

I would love to hear your Neji theories, even if it's about his death. Also, if you write fanfiction, would you be open to a paid commission to actually rewrite the series over time? Like, with the revisions and fixes you think should be canon? Obviously it should be consulted on, but like if you're actually for real about that I would be 100% interested in paying you for that 😄

Actually, I do write Fanfiction of Naruto (or have done so in the past), the thing is just - as one might be able to tell by my random use of English punctuation - I am not an English native speaker, so my existing work is written in German. So if I were to rewrite Naruto (which I am in fact very interested in), I'm not sure I'd feel comfortable to make it on a commission basis, especially if I don't have anyone beta it. Also because of the whole legality issues. More like pay-what/if-you-want after I posted it with things like the ko-fi system. I'm just also still failing in uni, so the earliest I could kick that project off would be in summer. But I'm honoured by your interest!!

_________________________

Note: As said, I have no idea how common some headcanons are in the Neji fandom, so maybe I'm contributing nothing new here. Also this is completely delusional and based on absolutely nothing. Note 2: From the perspective of the author I understand why one of Naruto's peers has to die. And it makes a lot of sense to choose the family you have two characters of. Yes, my favourite version of events has Hinata dying and Hanabi taking actual steps to dismantle the clan structure. This version also includes Neji training Hanabi instead of Hinata, because if Hizashi can get the seal, so could Hanabi. Note 3: to make sense of the canon happenings I have to assume that either the Byakugan itself or the justus in connection with it slow down time for the user. Note 4: I have no idea how physics work.

All that said, Hiashi killing Neji is the theory you can pry only from my cold dead hands. I never understood how Neji could be sure that jumping in front of that splinter would save Hinata and not have it a second Minato-Kushina-Kurama-situation. So my idea is that he is actually jumping to explode that splinter with a direct hit instead of the more general blasts he employed before. Were Hiashi to activate the seal in just the right moment he would stop Neji's momentum and not have him crumble down immediately. Makes even sense for the whole "because you thought I were a genius" thing! The Hero of the Village thinks the Branch member a genius, now that can't sound great to Defender-of-the-Status-Quo Hiashi. Incorporating the "I understand freedom" thought is a bit trickier, but if I turn it so that he understands that his father didn't even "choose" his own death (which he fucking didn't and it sickens me that the narrative twisted it this way), I can make it work. With force all things are possible.

Bonus: Why Neji's death could have worked I hate NaruHina, I hate Hinata on her own, Neji is one of my favourite characters. And STILL I think Neji's death could have been a great element of the story. Because Naruto is the main character. And after him talking Nagato to death and the 4th war leading to the Alliance, you might almost forget that within Konoha not everything is flowers and sunshine. Old problems persist and Neji dying should have been an acknowledgement of that.

Bonus 2: Hinata should have already been dead I hate the Tensei-no-Jutsu. I think Hinata should have died during Pain's invasion and stayed fucking dead.

[the-firebird69]

It looks like the max plan to kill you and they sit here everyday saying I might or might not get money the apartment might burn down you dumb m************ might break in and ruin it every single f****** day until your death I'm going to have to listen a stupid s*** out of you John remoulard that's been years of the stupid crap from the max through you stupid s*** is you're so f****** lame and dumb imagine everything is hingy on a certain item and you don't think so she go ahead and f*** it up and well that's it and this guy this is unimaginable it has nothing to do with my people the failures of these gifted people as you call them astronomical they go from 800 mph to zero in like 2 seconds can you read that it's way out of proportion there's no comparison proportionally it does not match up error you can make them as big as you freaking want 300% of the population they're still dumber than a wet sock. This guy next door this loser Joel Watts has lost so much money and stuff the people who are poor should have money from him you can break open one of his bank accounts and feed everybody for a year did this poor I'm sick of looking at his face and having the same done things he's a very very wealthy person he's just extremely stupid I I can't believe I can't explain this correctly your little boy here had enough wealth to control the planet and chose not to because he's a fucking huge asshole.

Zues Hera I hate him too a lot but really what he says it he's saying you had him do it but he's really stupid and blew it and he blew like everything out the door just like he hates it and stuck to him it's really gross he stores all the stuff I've loses it and just sits there she has to go after him you find out it's just dumb now he's got other hate his things but really nothing justifies the stupid crap here

..

They're absolutely right this guy so far out there and he's a nut and he's insane he's clearly insane Howard Stern said it the guys just nuts he's a retard who's also insane and Insanity happens all the time the zombies are insane and TBI victims and he happens to be both of those as well. And really that kind of spent so someone thinks is good is probably foreigners who have a fight each other I tell you I don't think he's ever going to get it and we're talking to nobody and is regurgitating stuff. But you sure you're right about something he has so much money it's such a wasted place to have money if a friend here had money he'd be doing things to at least help society it'll be covered that this guy does his dog s*** he's Biff from back to the Future and he was Beth and super 8 and gets his face bit off and there's some symbolism there but they take the face and tell you what they've done comparisons to his voice and the laugh of the creature it sounds like him it says it shouldn't really sound like me because it's a creature and we say this that's actually true and they've been dumping it in and little garth is starting to blab and what a weirdo you should hear what these kids sound like. They are horrible.

They are delusional as hell and they demand that he believes stuff. I almost reached in there and pulled this idiot's head off and it's guarth. So it happens every day now I mean like it's a Lucky strike it's in there going no you have to try and fool me a little retards. And we're getting mad cuz it's real.

Macs

I can see it now they separated in their cities and the threatening everyone that they blow everything up the max are going to be sitting here saying we don't have these chips and they don't they're not ready yet and they're just investigating these other ones I mean this is a disaster these people are way out of line and it needs to go into a council meeting and we have one and we should have to bring it up and are my grandson says we have clout and we just don't believe it and we need to do something we need action that Grandpa's in trouble again and he got hurt by these fools and they don't know how they're doing and my grandson says it looks like I'm doing it but there's only one of me and you're always trying to harm me so we have to go after them and very hard this is a pile of s*** here

Bill

Olympus

[fckinsupreme]

maybe one story about michael being jealous and obsessed with her?

Some fire & reign daddy for you!!

———————-

Michael was a man of few interests, and the beautiful woman that worked for the two jokers he was consulting with had been one. The moment he saw Y/N, with her short skirt, her white button up top, her thigh highs & heels, her hair done in a way that made her facial features pop, he knew that he was done for. It was instant obsession—not love, for he did not believe himself capable of it, but an infatuation so intense that it nearly brought him to his knees. But there was one big problem, and it was one that Michael should have seen coming, but once which he still could not have anticipated at the same time.

There was another man who worked at Kineros, one that Michael barely associated with, but one that Y/N had liked very much. It wasn’t enough that he was armed with this knowledge through Mutt & Jeff’s interactions with each other, but also the fact that Michael had to watch Y/N and that asshole flirt with each other every single fucking day. The way she touched him, her smile, the seduction in her gaze, the way her chest puffed out, the way he moved closer to her, the way they whispered in each other’s ear, her laughter…all of it. It drove him up the fucking wall, and the jealousy nearly ate him alive. He knew damn well he could easily take care of it by ripping the bastard’s spine right out, but what would that solve? Y/N would hate him, and he would never get to experience what it was like to have her, to hold her, to kiss her, to touch her, to be inside of her…

No, it was too much of a risk. One that he was not willing to take.

Michael would always conveniently turn up everywhere she seemed to be—the copy room, work room, the lobby, the cafeteria. It was all a matter of knowing her schedule, something he had memorized like clockwork every single day. He knew exactly when she had a meeting, or a lunch date, or when Mutt & Jeff needed her for something. He was always there, hoping to get a glimpse of her. Glimpses and “accidental” encounters were well & good for a little while, but then the day came where it was no longer enough. He had to have her, before it drove him absolutely insane. He had to know what it was she felt, or how she tasted, or how her body would feel pressed against his.

It was time for action.

He found her alone in the copy room one afternoon, humming to herself as she made a series of copies at the machine. She was startled by his sudden appearance, having not heard him enter the room, and placed a hand to her chest as she giggled in relief. He was delighted to see that she was cornered now; he stood between her & the exit, and there was no way she could get out without getting past him. This was the moment he had been waiting for, and he would not let it be fleeting. Besides that, he knew that there would be no issue in making her stay; he could sense she didn’t want that to happen. The smell of her arousal—thick, sweet, pounding, irresistible—was hanging like a veil between them, and he could sense how badly she wanted him. Whether she would admit it or not, he already knew.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice like velvet as he surveys her hungrily. “How convenient that I would find you here.”

“Just like how it was convenient that you found me everywhere else?” she quips, her head tilted to the side as her eyes narrow. “It’s funny how you turn up everywhere that I go, isn’t it?”

“Perhaps,” Michael says thoughtfully, closing his eyes as he thinks it over for a moment. “Or perhaps I’m just following your scent.”

“My what?” she asks, looking at him in confusion. “What are you, a dog?”

“No,” he drawls, his fingers brushing down her forearm. She recoils out of surprise, but allows him to touch her again when he makes another attempt. “I can tell how attracted you are to me. You may call it a sixth sense, or perhaps a superpower. Whatever it is you want to believe, I can tell how much you want me. I can /smell/ it, Y/N, so don’t try to lie to me. It will end very badly for you if you try it.”

She laughs wildly, her brows knitting. “Is that what you think this is? You think I want to hop on your dick, and what, exactly?”

“Whatever it is you fantasize about doing with me, I suppose,” he says. “That isn’t my business to know; I just know that you lust for me.”

“I do n—“ she begins.

“I own you,” Michael says, backing her against the wall as her eyes widen. “Whether you know it or not, you are /mine/.”

“Excuse me?” she says, her brow raised as an expression of fury crosses over her features. “What did you just say?”

“I think you heard me quite well,” Michael says, pressing her further against the wall. “I said that you are mine.”

“You’re delusional,” she spits, and Michael is taken aback by her bold remark. “If you truly think—“

“I /know/ that you are,” he hisses, his hand coming up to close around her throat. He brings his face mere inches from hers, and he can feel her pulse quickening under his touch. Fear, possibly, but Michael knew better; she was aroused, the desire for him coursing through her veins as she tried to remain as cool, calm, and collected as possible. “Don’t deny what I already know. It won’t end well for you, and it’s just more work for me. I don’t think either of us want any of that, do you?”

She is silent, save for a few shuddering breaths that fall from her lips. Finally, she speaks. “You’re wrong.”

“You are bold to question me,” he says, his grip tightening on her throat as she gasps slightly. “Especially knowing who I am and what I am capable of.”

She opens her mouth to reply, no doubt some off-the-wall, snarky remark. But instead, she just says: “You don’t know shit about me.”

“I know enough,” Michael says, bringing his lips to hers and barely ghosting them. He hears her whine, a sound that is barely audible, but there all the same. “I know that you want me.”

She is quiet for so long—so much, in fact, that Michael wonders if he could have accidentally killed her. But then she moves, and her eyes are fixated upon his. “Let’s just say you’re right.”

“I know I am,” Michael says smugly.

“Fine, you’re right,” she says impatiently. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“I think you already know the answer to that question,” Michael says with a smirk, running a finger between the cleavage exposed by her button-up top. “All you have to do is give in.”

She is no longer hesitant, nor is she in denial or putting up a fight. Her fingers lace through his curls, drawing him closer in a hot, passionate kiss. Michael groans against her lips, and the taste of her is so much better than the fantasy. Of course, he already knew that she was going to be an excellent kisser, and taste sweeter than cream; it was a sixth sense he seemed to have. He grabs her by the hips, pulling her tight against his own as she moans against his mouth.

“That worthless sack of shit you call a boyfriend is not worthy of you,” he breathes as he kisses her neck, making sure to leave behind a series of purple marks in his wake. “You know it, and I know it.”

“Is that what all of this is about?” she asks, her eyes closing as he bites just below her pulse point. “Mmm…You’re jealous of him, aren’t you?”

“So what if I am?” Michael asks, ripping her blouse open as buttons fly & scatter through the room.

“It’s kinda hot, that’s all,” she says with a shrug, but says no more as he leaves bruising kisses all over her breasts. “Fuck…”

Michael comes back to her lips, and kisses her heavily. They make out for awhile, hands wandering, gasps and small moans filling the air, fingers tugging at her hair and clothing. Michael eventually pushes her onto one of the tables, and sinks between her legs in a slow, almost catlike manner. He hikes up her skirt, kissing over her inner thighs as he grins up at her.

“How badly do you want me?” Michael asks her, his tone almost taunting as he bites her inner thigh. She gasps, and he smirks against her smooth skin. “You have to tell me.”

“So fucking badly,” comes her reply, so breathless and desperate that Michael has to bite back a wide grin. “I’ve never wanted anyone as badly as I want you.”

“Good,” Michael says, tugging her thong off and tucking it into his back pocket before pointing toward some of the cameras in the corners of the room.

“What?” she asks, pushing herself onto her elbows to look at what he is pointing to.

“Smile for your bosses, sweetheart,” he says, beginning to devour her cunt as she moans filthily. “They’re watching us right now, so let’s make it worth their time.”

——-

Baby taglist: @littledemondani @with-dandelions-in-her-hands @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern @wroteclassicaly @dark-mei-rose @melodylangdon @xavierplymptons @bloodcoatedeclipse @bitchchatter @welcometothelioncage @angelicmichael @lovelylangdonx

[retrievablememories]

too good to you | ten (m)

title: too good to you pairing: ten x black reader, slight xiaojun x reader genre: smut, angst, fwb-2-lovers summary: being friends with benefits is fun until it’s not. because you’ve always loved him, and you can’t pretend anymore. word count: 5.4k warnings: ten and reader being messy bitches who live for drama, conflict/arguing, cursing, oral sex, face sitting, fingering, protected sex a/n: the sequel to just as friends. i have absolutely not felt like writing fic the last few weeks, but i figure i should post something soon so...why not this fic since y’all will not let me live about it lmao

the whole first part of this fic was inspired by That One Ten Fancam because i saw some stans saying he looked mad during it. yep. that’s literally it. also, that scene with xiaojun is pretty self-indulgent but you ain’t hear it here

song recs: bussit - ari lennox | too good - drake & rihanna | hit different - sza & ty dolla sign

➤ tennie🐱: can i come over ? ➤ tennie🐱: actually i’m already on the way so

➤ y/n: thanks for the advance notice 🙄🤕

The sudden message doesn’t give you much time to get ready, but you do what you can before he gets to your place. When he messages you like this, you know he’s upset and is looking for your special type of comfort.

When Ten shows up on your doorstep, he’s still wearing his makeup and hairstyling from earlier that day; you know they’d had a stage performing Kick Back. The only indicators of his restless mood are the slight twitch of his lips and the weary expression in his eyes, which you don’t even get a good look at before he has his mouth on yours and is backing you into your house.

You kiss him back for several moments until you have to separate yourself from him so you can actually close the front door, because his hand is already ascending up your shirt and you don’t need to give the neighbors an eyeful. “I don’t know why you didn’t take the makeup off, it’ll just get fucked up anyway.”

“Because it looks good on me,” Ten responds, like it’s too obvious for words.

You roll your eyes and giggle. “Hmm...well, you’re not wrong.”

The corner of his mouth lifts as he steps close to you again. “And look, you’ve even got my favorite shorts on...” His hands are firm on you as he gropes your ass, pulling your body towards his. “You wanted to be a good little baby for me, didn’t you?” Those words make your stomach pitch, and you think of how ridiculously easy it is for him to get you just as pliable as he wants.

“M-maybe.” Ten presses his lips to yours again and cups his hands under your thighs so he can carry you over to the kitchen counter. You protest lightly when he sets you down on it, though it’s difficult to form a full sentence when he’s got his tongue in your mouth. “Here? I make food here.”

“We’ve already fucked here, Y/N, don’t act so fussy about it.” There is truth to it; he’s bent you over this counter more than a couple times before.

“But that’s different,” you sigh, listening to the smacking of his lips as he kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“I don’t feel like walking all the way to your bedroom.” He’s pushed your shirt up above your chest now, his mouth trailing up your sternum and between your breasts.

“You’re so lazy, it’s only a few feet away.” It gets a bit harder to focus on your words when he latches his mouth to one of your dusky nipples, suckling it and teasing it gently with his teeth.

“Lazy?” One of his hands dips past your shorts and underwear, his fingers nudging between your lower lips. The soft touch over your clit makes you shudder, and he keeps his fingers there, rubbing it in a maddening circle. “All I do to make you feel good, and you call me lazy…”

Ten’s fingers dive lower still, pressing against your entrance and gliding through all the slick that’s already gathered there, then pushing in deep. You grasp the back of his neck, your hand sliding into his gelled hair as he simultaneously focuses his attention on your breasts and your pussy.

The pads of his fingers rub that honeyed, pleasurable spot inside of you as soon as he finds it, making your legs weaken, and you’re glad you’re already sitting down. He makes sure the knuckles of his other fingers slip across your clit as he fingers you, heightening the stimulation, and this motion drives you a little further up the wall.

“Ten,” you sigh, leaning back slightly as he scissors his fingers inside you and sucks on your breasts. His tongue rolls around your nipple, sending heated tingles through your body and down your spine. His fingers keep hooking into that sweet spot, and it makes your stomach get warm and your walls grow wetter until you are dripping around him and onto the counter below you. You have a vague thought about how you’ll have to clean this up later, but you know he gets his thrills from getting you this wet, and you can tell by the stiff outline of his dick pressing against his sweatpants.

And just when you are inching closer to feeling that rope of tension snap within your body, your chest heaving against his eager mouth, his fingers slide entirely out and leave you feeling empty.

“Wait, don’t stop,” you cry out, reaching for him as he steps back from you. Your complaint goes unheeded as he reaches for your waistband and strips your shorts off, but not your underwear. He slips a thumb over the black fabric of your panties, dragging it momentarily over your clit before pulling away; he smirks at the stickiness covering the pad of his thumb even through that layer of clothing.

Then he shoves his sweatpants further down over his hips, freeing his reddened cock from his confines. You didn’t see him pull the condom out but it’s there now, and he rolls it hurriedly over his shaft.

“Not even gonna take your clothes off? Ah...you must be really upset today,” you remark absently. An abrupt moan punctuates the end of your sentence when Ten pulls your panties to the side and pushes into you, his other hand gripping your thigh.

“Mm, don’t wanna talk about it,” he replies, but it’s mostly spoken into the side of your neck as he buries his face there and leaves over a dozen open-mouthed kisses. His grip on your thigh tightens fractionally as he begins thrusting into you, dragging his hips away until his tip is just kissing your entrance, and then shoving back in like he’s trying to bury himself wholly within you. “Just wanna forget...god, you’re so tight…”

He ends up laying you across the counter, one hand supporting you by the back of the neck for leverage as he thrusts into you hard enough to make your body shift up the counter slightly. His thighs smack against your own as he fucks you, and it is all you can do to let him pull one of your legs over his shoulder and continue pushing into you like a man starved. Your mouth parts in a silent, overwhelmed moan, and you let him push his thumb past your lips, sucking around the tip of his digit like you often do to his dick.

“Y/N, Y/N—Fuck.” Ten’s voice is a lot less steady than you expected it to be, especially with how nonchalantly he was talking earlier, and you get the inkling that he is already close to cumming. His hold on your leg tightens and his head tilts back as he mindlessly thrusts into you, using your body to get himself off; his thumb stays hooked into your cheek, keeping your mouth parted so you end up drooling on yourself and his hand. The furrow between his brows, the wild strands of his hair in his face, and the way he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth is sexy, but not quite sexy enough to get you off, which you want him to do, with his fingers or dick or anything else.

His tip hits your spot every few thrusts, and this alone could be enough to get you off, just a little more—you focus your attention on that single delirious point of pleasure and the way his hips crash against yours—

The palpable tension that was coming off him earlier unspools itself quickly as Ten spills into the condom, his pace stopping as he holds himself deep in you but flexes his hips for that barest hint of friction. You still haven’t come yet, though, and you’re irritated about it, especially with how he barged into your place fiending for sex. But then he pulls out and disposes of the condom in one deft movement, then strips you out of your underwear before picking you up off the counter again. His hands never leave your ass as he carries you to the couch. 

“Don’t worry, kitten. You know I always take good care of you. Don’t I?”

If you had it in you, you’d want to hate him for calling you by that pet name. It makes you delusional enough to think there could maybe be something more between you.

Ten had even taken to calling you kitten outside of the bedroom. It first happened in front of the WayV members, and you’d wanted to die of embarrassment from how everyone else gave either surprised or knowing looks. Despite the momentary panic of the situation, Ten found that his precious little name for you came way too easily off his tongue and kept on calling you that. And despite yourself, you did not tell him to stop—couldn’t even if you wanted to. It gave you something to cling to, no matter how slight.

“Don’t I?” he repeats, pushing his face into your neck to kiss your throat and feeling your pulse thump wildly against his mouth like a butterfly’s wings.

“You do, Ten,” you sigh. Then he plants a satisfied kiss on your lips in response, nipping at your bottom lip and sucking it between his own. His lip stain is almost completely rubbed off now, giving way to the natural pink of his mouth.

Ten pulls your body on top of his, tugging at your hips and coaxing you to move up more until your pussy is over his mouth. He looks up at you with eyes dark like charcoal, and just as hot.

He parts your lower lips with his fingers and dips his middle finger into you, creating a soft squelching sound from how wet you are. With his other hand kneading your hip, he pushes a couple digits into you to get them wet and pulls them out again to drag the wetness over your clit; he circles it lightly with only the very tips of his fingers, giving enough friction to keep you on edge but not enough to satisfy you. You take a deep breath, your hands moving restlessly against the couch arm, trying to be patient—and not just knock him on the head and tell him to eat you already.

Ten leans up and brings your pelvis down so he can lay wet kisses over your clit; he reintroduces his fingers and immediately goes looking for that bunch of nerves again, the button that will have you dripping down his chin. Then he shifts his hand from your hip to pull the hood of your clit back, exposing more of that sensitive nub, and he mouths at your clit so intensely that you have to focus on not clamping your legs around his head.

You’re already wound up from him fucking you earlier, and it does not take much longer to finally come, your inner muscles squeezing around his fingers as they stroke in and out of you. Your hands slip to his hair as he parts his mouth a little wider, like he’s trying to suck your entire pussy. You are not even embarrassed by the messy slurping sounds he’s creating—it feels good enough to push you over into another orgasm right on the heels of the first one.

“Woo, oh fuck, okay,” you choke out once he releases your swollen clit from the tight grip of his mouth. He takes his fingers out of you too and licks them clean of your cum.

Ten looks up from between your legs with his mouth messy with cum and his hair ruffled out of place, still looking very much insatiable even though he’s already fucked you once and eaten you out. You’re still holding onto his dark strands, and you slide one of your hands down further to thumb at the corner of his eye.

“Just like I said,” you murmur breathlessly, smudging some of the eyeliner that’s already running outside its lines. “You’re two seconds away from looking like a raccoon...go take a shower.”

He drops one last little kiss on your clit, and your legs tremble on either side of him. “Come with me.”

You go with him all while knowing that little actual washing will happen. And as you predicted, Ten pushes you against the shower wall as soon as you’re both naked and fingers you again until you have to slump against him to be able to stand. When he is done, smirking and dick hard against your stomach, you suck him off until he’s cumming down your throat and calling out some semblance of your name in a long, shivering moan. By the time you both get around to cleaning up, the water has turned cool.

Neither of you bother to put on any clothes once you get into bed.

“You better feel better after all that,” you say, blinking your eyes at him within the dimness of the room, trying to make your pupils adjust to the dark faster. Ten’s hair is damp against the pillow, and a distant memory sparks in your mind of that dream that became the catalyst for all this. Feeling suddenly disarrayed, you turn on your back and look at a spot on the ceiling, wondering what the fuck your friendship has transformed into.

“I do,” he hums, grinning. “You’re too good to me.” He draws his fingers up the length of your arm as he tells you this. His eyelids are already closing halfway, weighed down with sleepiness. Though he is beautiful with his stage styling, he is also painfully attractive scrubbed down to his bare face, and it makes your heart throb to look at him.

“Maybe I am,” you whisper back, closing your eyes.

--

When you wake up next to Ten the next morning, it once again feels like waking up to a boyfriend. You try to move out of his embrace, but he complains, half-asleep, and pulls you closer. You are too defenseless to reject the promise of his arms around you and allow yourself to mold your body against his once more. Somewhere between his arms gripping you more tightly and his hair fanning across your neck like down feathers, you fall asleep again.

Waking up the second time comes by way of him kissing your neck and shoulder—you with one of his arms around your back and your breasts pushed against his chest. When he notices you’ve woken up, he moves back to look at you and brings his hand to the side of your face. His own face is half-illuminated by the sun spilling through the crack in the curtains, some silly little smile on his lips and his eyes crinkled like he’s just seen the happiest, cutest thing in the world, and you decide then and there that you can’t do this anymore.

His nose nudges yours, like he’s about to kiss you. “Kitten…”

“Stop,” you say.

Ten’s face drops, and he pauses. “Stop what?”

“Stop this. I don’t want this anymore.” You successfully shimmy away from him this time. He lets you do it, but stares at you with a troubled expression.

“What...do you mean?”

“We can’t keep doing this.” You get off the bed to pick your robe off the hanger it’s on, and you wrap yourself up in it as if it will protect you from your own emotions.

Ten scrambles up from the bed, the sheets gathering at his waist. “Y/N, tell me why. I thought we...”

“I love you. I am in love with you. That’s why.” You cross your arms and look at him angrily. You want to cry, and you don’t know if you’ll be able to stop yourself if you do. You feel very small in this moment.

“...What?” He looks at you as if he’s been slapped, his eyes widening.

“I hate this, Ten. I hate it when we go somewhere and you call me kitten and everyone thinks we’re together. I hate how you always want to touch me, even when it’s not sexual—especially when it’s not sexual. I don’t want to know how it feels to have your hand in mine or your fingers on my cheek. I hate it how you wake me up in the morning like this, when you look at me like…” Your voice catches, and you belatedly realize that you are almost shouting. “...like this is more than what it really is.”

Ten’s face is a storm of emotions, and if you didn’t know any better, you might even say he looks frightened or panicked. What could he be afraid of? If anything, you should be terrified that everything is now ruined between you. “But...Y/N, we agreed to—not take things further.”

“Ten, you are the one always taking things further than they need to be. Stop treating me like I’m your girlfriend when all you want is sex! I don’t want to do this with you anymore.”

You expected him to be more upset about this, maybe even angry, but he seems untethered. It’s as if you’ve just left him out at sea with no knowledge of how to swim. Your words seem to spark some kind of realization in him, though you don’t know what that is.

“I’m...sorry if you misunderstood me, but it wasn’t my intention to make you think we were going to be together.” He speaks weakly, like he feels bad about what he’s saying. Maybe he thinks you’re pitiful and is trying to handle you with kid gloves to avoid hurting your feelings, and that thought makes you even more upset. Maybe you would’ve preferred it if he’d just gotten angry.

“Misunderstood…” You don’t know whether to yell or cry. “But what am I supposed to think when you…” You try to search for the words, but it feels useless and ridiculous. How can his actions not be obvious to him? “Just leave, please.”

So you watch him gather his clothes, redress, and leave your place. There’s a hesitation before he passes through your bedroom door, but in the end he just says I’m sorry again. It is still not enough and not the answer you want to hear, so you let him go for the sake of your own sanity.

You let the tears drip only after he’s gone, feeling like you’ve just experienced a breakup. The thought of the relationship-that-never-was makes you sniff angrily again. When you sink into your bed, the sheets pulled over your head, you try to convince yourself that you do it because you’re tired and not because the linens still smell like him.

The next two months after that day are the most awkward and annoying ones of your life.

Much to your own surprise—because you were sure everything would end in flames and rubble after that rejected confession—you and Ten try to go back to some semblance of your previous friendship. However, every interaction is strained and weird; he never acknowledged your confession again after it happened, and you refused to do so to avoid being rejected for a second time. You can’t shake the feeling that every one of his glances is filled with some odd sympathy, as if he just can’t believe you’ve gotten yourself into this unrequited love nonsense. There’s an even stranger anxiety in his demeanor, too. A nervousness you are unable to assign a meaning to.

You try to distract yourself from it all with hobbies; you even adopt new ones. You’ve never cared much about knitting or collecting postcards or scrapbooking, but you do those things now just to fill in the empty spaces and quiet the mess of your mind. You don’t have to wonder about what Ten is doing, because you already know; Kun keeps dry begging for your help, as if you want to hear about any of Ten’s business in the first place.

“To put it lightly, we’re dying in here. Maybe if you could talk—”

“Oh please. Sounds like he’s having fun with his new buddies, and who am I to stop him. Like he’ll listen to shit I have to say,” you say dryly.

“Having fun, sure, but I’m not. There was the guy he brought home last week—and the girl I caught him in the living room with even before that. And the others,” Kun sighs wearily.

Jealousy curls like a snake in the pit of your stomach, but you dig your heels in and try to throw it to the side. “Tch. Tragic, and also not my problem. If you’re that worried about noise complaints, talk to him yourself. Would hate to hear about y’all getting kicked out.”

“I’m not necessarily concerned about that, I’m talking about him sleeping with all these people because you two—”

“Oh, damn. I can’t hear shit. Looks like you’re breaking up. Talk to you later!” You feel a little bad about hanging up on Kun, but the last thing you want to do is talk to him as if he’s your therapist and discuss the mess between you and Ten that was never truly resolved. And as far as you can discern, Ten is not thinking about you in that way anymore.

Rolling your eyes, you toss your phone away and roll over in your bed with your face in the sheets, trying for the hundredth time to not think about what Ten is doing with people who are not you.

One night when you’re hanging out at WayV’s dorm and attempting to pretend there isn’t some weird tension between you and your (former?) best friend, Yangyang and Xiaojun talk you into going to the club. Ten tells you all he will meet you there later, and it makes you roll your eyes—because you know he has plans to pick someone else up, but also because everything he does lately makes you roll your eyes—but you’re also glad you won’t have to sit awkwardly next to him in the car on the way over.

The club is dark and hot and pungent with the smell of alcohol. Once you are inside, you suddenly feel a little lost within all the chaos. You also realize you don’t want to let Xiaojun out of your sight—Yangyang has already bounced off somewhere with someone he knows, otherwise you might’ve clung to him similarly—because you don’t want to be left alone, so you grip his hand and he squeezes back, pulling you onto the dance floor amongst the crowd of bodies. 

You aren’t sure when Ten shows up. One moment he’s nowhere to be found, and the next moment he is right there, attracting your eyes like a magnet out of all the other people in the club. While you’re in the mass of people with Xiaojun, dancing and trying to empty your mind of anything important, you spot something you would rather not see, and it makes your body come to a standstill.

Some girl is talking to Ten at the bar—maybe the same one Kun says he’s been seeing lately, you aren’t completely positive about it—and pressing her body against his. He’s likewise leaning into her, giving her that same look he’d lavished on you months ago. The one only reserved for lovers. It was never exclusively for you, you know that, but seeing it directed to someone else again after everything that’s happened only incenses you.

She whispers something into his ear and kisses the corner of his mouth, and he pinches her chin to kiss her back, full on the lips this time.

You turn your head away from them with your mouth screwed up. Xiaojun stops dancing when he sees what you’ve seen, and he looks at you with a frown. “I think I should leave.” Your voice sounds watery, and you hate reacting like this. Life would be a lot easier if you could just Bad Bitch your way out of this and forget about him on the other side of the room with some girl you don’t know from Adam, but you can’t.

“Wait.” Xiaojun grips your shoulders with a pleading expression. He acts like he’ll say something more but then abandons whatever that thought is and says instead, “I’m sorry, Y/N. Please don’t kick my ass for this.”

“Huh?” 

Xiaojun kisses you. 

You stand there unmoving and bewildered for a few long seconds, and it’s awkward. You think you know what he’s trying to do though, and it’s fucking nonsensical because Ten has clearly moved on from you so why bother, but you shut the rational part of your brain off and respond to the kiss anyway. It is surprisingly easy to reciprocate; Xiaojun is attractive, and he kisses you intimately, like you’re both true lovers instead of two people attempting a cliché scheme. His hands are on you, one on your nape and the other on the small of your back, though maybe slightly lower than it needs to be for this little act. When his tongue parts your lips, slick and hot and faintly mint-flavored, you begin to wonder if this is all just acting.

Then it all abruptly ends when a sharp voice cuts through the air.

“So you two are hooking up and didn’t think to tell me?” Ten stands in front of you both looking unimpressed, and you are genuinely surprised by this.

Xiaojun’s mouth moves aimlessly—his lips are noticeably shinier from your lip gloss—and you can guess he didn’t think far enough ahead to consider what he’d say if Ten really did respond to his impulsive trick.

“Fuck you!” you blurt out, and they both look at you. “I don’t need to tell you a damn thing.”

“Y/N, for fuck’s sake—he’s my groupmate! You don’t think that’s important to mention?”

“What do I owe you? You’re not my man, and we barely even act like friends anymore.” His face falters when you say this; a nerve has been struck.

“If you fucking hate me, just say so Y/N; I didn’t think you’d go this far.”

Xiaojun gives a feeble attempt to jump in. “Now wait, this wasn’t her—”

You laugh, though your expression is marred with anger. “Hate you? That’s the last thing I ever did, but you didn’t want what I offered.”

Ten looks pained at that. “You don’t understand, I…”

The rest of his words are lost to you as the song changes and the music’s volume rockets up further, and you have no choice but to shuffle closer to Ten to narrowly avoid being bowled over by a couple who dances too near to you, oblivious to their surroundings. This puts you close enough to him to feel the heat radiating off his body, to smell the hint of sweat mingling with his cologne, and you think it might’ve been better to just get knocked over.

Unbeknownst to you, Ten’s hand had instinctively reached for your back to steady you, though he stopped himself from touching you just before his fingertips made contact. Suddenly, it dawns in his mind that neither of you have touched each other in quite some time, hardly even in a platonic way, and this knowledge disappoints him.

“I think we should go outside,” Ten says, staring at you intently. It’s a look that’s far too serious for the context of standing in a hot and sweaty club, and it makes you feel peeled apart, much like that first time you both had sex. Xiaojun has turned his eyes elsewhere in a laughable attempt to look like he’s searching for Yangyang; he’s caught between your tension and feeling much like he’s witnessing something he’s not quite supposed to be seeing.

And even though you are angry with Ten and want him to shut the fuck up and explain himself all at the same time, you still find yourself staring back, your gaze catching on the way the lights glint on the smooth skin of his exposed chest. “Fine.”

--

A few minutes later, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of Ten’s car. His phone buzzes with an incoming call, and then a text message. And then another. You both watch the phone vibrate on the console until it falls into one of the cupholders.

Because it doesn’t seem like he’ll speak first, you say, “I think she must be calling for you. Go tend to your little girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

You shrug. “I don’t know. Go see what she wants.”

“I don’t care.”

You shift your head a little to glance at him, but you won’t yet give him the satisfaction of your full attention. “Now you don’t care? Didn’t look that way earlier...”

“None of that meant anything.”

“Oh…the same way with us, then. I get it.”

Ten grips the steering wheel and leans his head on it like he’s tired. “No. It’s not the same as us.”

“What’s different?”

“I can’t fucking forget about you,” he scowls. “I can’t forget how you taste, or how you look when you wake up in the morning, how you say my name when you’re happy or sad, how pretty you smell right out of the shower, how your mouth falls open in that cute way when you’re asleep and dreaming about something, or how you ask me to tie your scarf at night because you don’t feel like doing it.”

You sit back against the seat, unsure what to think of that revelation. “So what does all that mean. You miss the fucking and pretending? Because you experienced all those things and still only ever wanted to be friends.”

He sits up again to look at you. “No, it means I miss you and I love you and I’m a dumbass.” The way his voice softens reminds you of one of those chocolate candies with caramel in the middle, and you sigh shakily. Some unconscious part of you has already made up its mind about how this will turn out.

“Yes you are,” you agree instantly, although your heart pounds. You stare at the blackened tail-lights of the car in front of you and don’t know how to feel or what to say. Everything feels like a live wire right now, like the situation might explode no matter what move you make. Not the kind of explosion that destroys, though—the kind that clears the way for something reborn. “...I had to kiss Xiaojun for you to realize you felt that way? That was never even my plan.”

“Maybe I can be a little oblivious sometimes. And...I tried very hard to distract myself from...thinking about us.” 

“You could’ve just told me.”

“I thought you might’ve moved on or wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore.” Ten slides his hand over top of yours where it rests in your lap, though it is a tentative move. “When was the last time we shared our dreams with each other?”

“You’re getting all sentimental now.” You look down at his hand on yours, and for the first time in months, it is the one thing that makes sense to you. “I don’t know. Definitely before any of this mess happened.”

“I miss you.” He squeezes your fingers tightly where they’re entwined with his. “Do you still love me?”

“Ten, please. As if I could stop,” you respond softly.

A quiet moment passes between the two of you. Finally, you turn your head to look at him, his silhouette illuminated by streetlights and the club’s neon signs, and he chooses that moment to lean towards you.

You hold your free hand up to his face. “Huh...no. You kissed that girl.”

He gives you an incredulous look. “And you kissed Xiaojun, but do you see me complaining?”

“Then we’re both even. But I ain’t kissing you tonight.”

Ten sits back in his seat and sighs, although there is a tiny smile on his lips. “Ugh. You kill me.”

You snort and tighten your grip on his hand, feeling the imprint of his rings against your skin. “But, you can still come home with me. I’ve missed just having you around...or whatever.”

He smirks. “Tell me how much you missed me on the ride over.”

“Don’t push your luck.”

[bruhstories]

You Truly are Beautiful when You Cry

Summary: Y/N leaves a party only to find Eren in front of her apartment. Shit happens. Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader, mentioned Eren x Mikasa (modern AU) Warnings: language, mentions of loss of virginity, unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), masochist!Reader, toxic and dominant Eren, sadist!Eren, face slapping, mentions of blood, mention of toxic relationships, dacryphillia — Eren’s nuts, just fiy Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: I just wanna say, I have absolutely nothing against Mikasa, I like her a lot, but for the purpose of this fic, Y/N hates her. Also, shameless smut y’all. I feel like this needs a part two  — who knows, maybe one day.

You and Eren have been friends since childhood — not inseparable, like he was with Mikasa and Armin, but good friends nonetheless. It came as a shock to you when him and Mikasa started dating, almost feeling disgusted, considering they were practically siblings. You tried your best to be supportive of their relationship, but Eren knew you too well for your own good, and sometimes you had to swallow down the vomit when you saw them together. It was even more shocking when you left Connie's party and found Eren on the stairs leading up to your apartment. He had a blank stare, not a single hint of emotion behind his emerald eyes, his lips pursed and waiting for you. You almost didn't recognise him in the dim light, his bun dishevelled, locks of hair covering his face.

"Jaeger? Is that you?" You asked, keys between your fingers, ready to hit.

"In the flesh, Y/L/N." He replied, his voice empty. You two had a habit of calling each other by your last names ever since you met in kindergarten. You lowered your hand and rushed to him, wondering if something happened tonight.

"Are you okay? You disappeared from the party all of a sudden. Armin was worried sick-"

"We broke up." The words caught you off guard, but in a sick twist of events, you were happy to hear that. In a way, you knew their relationship was doomed from the very beginning, surprised that it even lasted three full years.

"Shit." You chewed your lip in the darkness of the hallway. "Come on, let's go inside, you can tell me everything."

Eren looked at the hand you extended and gripped it tightly, helping himself up. The two of you had an odd friendship, to say the least. Before Mikasa, Eren would tease you, sexual innuendos all over the place, he'd seen you naked countless times, you caught him jacking off once. You both lost your virginities to one another, no strings attached. But you did get attached. You got so attached when him and Mikasa started dating and the rotten feeling ate you from the inside out.

You flipped the switch inside your flat and threw your backpack on a chair, along with your jacket. Eren kicked his boots off and threw himself on the couch with a growl while you pulled out a bottle of vodka from the fridge. He always acted like your apartment was his.

"Food?"

"No."

"Alright. Now tell me, what happened?" You asked, seating beside him and passing him the alcoholic beverage. He took a sip to wet his dry throat and threw his head back.

"We went in a room at Connie's. I wanted to tie her up with that stupid scarf she keeps wearing — my scarf — and she kept saying no." Eren explained before taking a few more sips. You nodded, eager to hear the rest of the story and trying your best to contain your giddiness. "I didn't force her or anything. She started spewing shit about how I changed, how I'm always angry and aggressive, how we don’t make love anymore. How I'm not the pure, innocent boy she fell in love with." He practically mocked the sentence. "And then that was it. Said we aren't compatible anymore and that she wants out of this 'toxic' relationship." Eren gestured quotation marks in the air while you took the bottle and downed some vodka yourself.

"Man, I'm really sorry to hear this." You lied. The sound of his dark laughter sent shivers down your spine, the little hair on your arms and the back of your neck standing up. "Something funny, Jaeger?"

"You're such a terrible liar, Y/N." Eren slightly turned his head to look you in the eye. Your own name rolling down his tongue sounded so natural, so perfect. You tried to speak, but the words stopped in your throat when he moved closer, his figure hovering above your petite frame. "What, you think I didn't know?"

"K-know what?" You finally managed, a short-circuit in your brain.

"That you're so obviously in love with me." Eren flashed you a sneer.

"Am not—" slap

His palm met your cheek, hard enough to flush it crimson, but not hard enough to hurt. Mouth agape, you just couldn't respond. For three long years you waited for this man to come to his senses and realise how much you truly loved him, how much you devoted yourself to him, how much you support him. Not Mikasa, you.

"You don't have to hide anymore, Y/N." Eren kissed your forehead and you were putty in his hands. "I know you’ve loved me since we first fucked. I know how much you yearn for me to fuck you again."

"You're delusional!" You finally told him, despite how correct he was.

"Prove me wrong then. Go on, yell at me, shove me. Do it." But you couldn't do it, could you? Your luscious lips parted open, then they closed. "That's what I thought." He crushed his lips onto yours in a sloppy, wet kiss, your hands tangling in his messy hair, the bun long gone. Eren's calloused hands snaked around your waist and under your shirt and, in a moment of clarity, you stopped him.

"W-wait, you two just broke up! I don't want to be your rebound—"

"Who said anything about that?"

"Are you insane? You loved her!"

"Have I?"

The simple question made you realise that Mikasa bight have been right all along. That something was indeed wrong with Eren. The lack of empathy and emotion, the aggressive behaviour, the manipulation. Yet, it didn't bother you, because he came to you specifically. He could've hooked up with any other girl from the party, but he wanted you.

"Don't spoil the moment, Y/N. I might change my mind."

"No, please!" The words came out of your mouth without a warning, strengthening the fact that you were completely and hopelessly desperate.

"Perfect." Eren purred in your ear. That was all he needed to hear before his shirt was on the floor and his hands on your thighs. You tentatively pulled your skirt up, spreading your legs for him, just for him. "Good slut."

The degrading praise earned him a mewl from you, your hips thrusting into his touch, wanting more. Eren didn't waste any more time, and his fingers rubbed your wet folds through the fabric of your thongs. Your muscles instinctively flexed at the touch, your body burning with need and lust. His other hand trailed off to find your perfectly soft, round breasts. Your own hands roamed through his black hair, fingers tangling in the locks as you merely whispered 'more', unable to speak louder.

"Tell me, have you been whoring around these last years?" Eren demanded, fingers pushing your panties to the side. It slightly bothered you how much he talked during this, but, as always, Jaeger got what he wanted.

"N-no..." You told him, quiet as a mouse, but he wouldn't have any of that. Like a maniac, he ripped the lace lingerie off of you, scratching your thighs in the process. You could feel the burning sensation in the markings he left.

"I told you, Y/N, no fucking lies. I wanna know every single man who's touched you."

"W-why? Why does it m-matter?" You stuttered, your eyes searching his. Why did it matter, though? It wasn't like he cared about who you fucked. Unless... unless he did care. And his relationship with Mikasa was nothing but a mistake on his part.

"Because," Eren oh so slowly caressed your folds with his long fingers, "you're mine. Always have been, always will be." He easily slipped his index finger inside of you. "And I won't fuck you unless you tell me who else you slept with."

"Ah– w-with Jean!"

"And?"

"And R-Reiner!" You whimpered, frantically fucking yourself with his hand. You were a sight for sore eyes, sprawled on the couch and longing for his touch.

"And?" The word accentuated so hard that you thought he was about to kill you on the spot.

"Fuck– P-Porco and Ah-Annie! I swear, that's it!" You promised, your breath hitching, heartbeat raising.

"One more thing, Y/N. Did you think of me while you fucked them?"

"Yes! Always! P-please, Eren, please fuck m-me! I'm begging you!"

The little plea seemed to satisfy Jaeger. Or so you thought, because he grabbed a fistful of your hair and dragged you all the way across the apartment to your bedroom, unbothered and unphased by you screaming how much it hurt. He threw you on the shaggy rug in your room, and as you scrambled to gain your composure, you heard Eren's belt hit the floor.

"You should be an expert in sucking cock by now. Prove me how much you want me." He commanded. His voice was low and dangerous, he didn't have to yell to make you scared shitless. Obediently and afraid, you crawled to the bed on all fours, removed your shirt and palmed his hot, hard member. It was already leaking precum, and so your tongue sensually licked the droplets, the saltiness mixed with the aftertaste of vodka in your mouth sending you in a frenzy. He scared you — no, he terrified you, but you couldn't deny you were enjoying this. Mikasa didn't like it rough? Fuck that, you would let Eren kill you if it pleased him. You swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock and worked your way down his shaft, guttural sounds coming from his throat. His hand found its way to your head, and he forcefully pushed it down, stuffing your mouth and throat with his (too) thick member. Tears from pleasure and pain pooled at your Y/E/C eyes and he held you there for a good ten seconds before releasing you.

"Did I make you cry?" Eren asked, his voice almost concerned.

"Mhm." You sobbed with a nod, and he once again grabbed you by the hair, pulled you up and bent you over the wooden bedframe. So much for concern.

"Good." Jaeger slapped your ass so hard you screeched and dug your fingernails in the wood. "Remember what I told you first time I saw you cry?" He asked before positioning himself at your entrance. You nodded — how could you forget? You were both 13 and you got a bad grade, crying your eyes out and thinking that was the end of the world. Normal people would have tried to comfort you and tell you to stop crying. But not Eren. He told you he's never seen anything more beautiful. That should've been a red flag. That should've been a sign to run. Instead, you kept crying as he told you he wanted to see more. A sadist from the very beginning, and you — nothing but a slave.

Eren's thrust woke you up from the distant memory and you arched your back in response. He stretched your walls and it felt like his cock was made for you.

"You don't happen to have any rope, do you?" He asked so nonchalantly.

"N-no-"

"'S alright, we'll just use my belt." Jaeger pulled out and a sense of emptiness filled you. He belonged inside of you — you knew that for a fact — he was meant to be with you. Eren cracked the belt and whipped it all over your exposed ass, your pain-filled scream bringing joy to his ears. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel his sadistic smile burning like the sun on your nape. Before you knew it, he had your wrists tied behind your back, the thin wooden frame pushing into your skin.

"Much better." He decided as he thrusted back inside. You whimpered, moaned, groaned, all sorts of sounds came out of you as his fingers dug into your flesh. As much as you wanted, you couldn't move, gravity pulling you down. You didn't know what hurt more: the bedframe sinking deeper into your abdomen, his deeper thrusts or the tight belt around your wrists. It was safe to say your knees were wobbly, and you could feel the climax getting closer. God, you were pathetic. He barely fucked you and yet you were done for.

"E-Eren! I'm c-coming!"

"I know." He told you absentmindedly, his hand moving from your hip in-between your thighs. "I want you to be good and cum, alright?"

"Yes! Oh, fuck!! Harder – faster!" You moaned as Eren rubbed your swollen clit. A wave of pleasure took over your entire body, your legs trembling as you came all over his cock. He didn't stop, despite you begging him you couldn't take it anymore, instead he kept fucking your numbing cunt, longing for release. It hurt like a bitch to feel his thrusts, and you really wanted him to pull out, but at the same time, you had to do it — for him.

"Whoever told you that you get to tell me when to stop?" Eren bent over and grabbed you by the neck, bringing you closer to him. The fingers around tour soft neck would definitely leave a mark next day. "I'm your god, Y/N!" He groaned in your ear with one final thrust. You both sighed as he pulled out, cum leaking from your folds. You were extremely thankful to be on the fucking pill. He untied your wrists and gathered his underwear and jeans from the floor.

When you noticed him getting dressed, anxiety seeped into your veins. Wasn't he going to stay over? At least for the night? Take a shower? Anything!

"You're leaving?" You asked him, surprising yourself with the condescending tone of your voice.

"Yes?" Eren retorted, baffled by the audacity of your question.

"B-but, where are you going??" Now you just sounded desperate. “We can stay in silenc—"

"To get back with Mikasa."

Your heart sank to your stomach. To do what? Mikasa? How could he do this to you? Shit, it would've been better if you were his rebound, but this? This hurt worse. Your entire body shivered, and not from your climax. You were trembling with anger, disappointment.

"N-no, you're not!" You ran to the front door, despite the pain in your abdomen caused by the wooden bedframe. "Eren, plase! She'll never love you like I do! Please don't go, I'm begging you!"

"Don't be pathetic, Y/N." He rolled his eyes. That stupid brain in your head made you fall down your knees in front of a fully dressed Eren, tears rolling down your cheeks and trying everything in your power to stall him from leaving. "You truly are beautiful when you cry." He pushed you with his leg and walked past you. You tried to grab his sleeve, his hand, anything, but it was too late.

When the door closed behind him, he didn't know what he'd created. There, on the floor, you swung your body back and forth, knees to your chin, makeup ruined, matted hair. Your fingernails clawed at the wood underneath you until the nail polish chipped and blood seeped at the tip of your fingers. Eren Jaeger broke you into a million pieces, he ripped your heart out of your chest and ate it. But it’s alright, you told yourself between indiscernible words. The only word that you could coherently say over and over again was revenge.

[jjkpls]

the wishlist (m) - 4

“What does it mean if a guy talks about your nipples?”

> genre : smut, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> total words : 4.7k

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; sextoys talk; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity ; awkwardness

previous - next

The issue is that Jungkook -and you're not a bitch for thinking that- is a little bit of an idiot.

He can be very smart. He can be wise and present unsuspecting resources and knowledge. He can teach you things you don't know anything about, figure out others you struggle to -but not during stressful times like for say an escape game because during those, he turns absolutely, utterly useless. 

But he is an idiot too. An idiot that sometimes shapes situations and conclusions and ideas in a very peculiar way that is very singular to him.

That’s precisely what happens then. He plays his role right, to its full extent, with great dedication and commitment. Except he missed a memo, misread the script and ends up playing a role that's not the one you planned for him. He believes that he’s your new adult toy provider (as if there is such a thing).

When you think he’s coming over to share a meal or play some game or binge-watch a series you promised to wait for him to experience together, he has a box hidden in his pocket or carried under his arm. 

He has the decency to not comment on it the first time around. He just set it down on the coffee table, between the bowl of chips and the one filled with guacamole. You see the logo on top of it. You recognize the design, reffined, minimalist with the pretty pastel matte colour. 

He probably identifies the shame and the annoyance on your face, painting your cheeks and reshaping your eyebrows, and doesn’t say anything. Simply smiles to himself and starts talking about the series’ new episode that’s about to start. 

It takes a lot of efforts, coming from you, to ignore the conspicuous object sitting just in front and in between you. But eventually, probably because more than a decade of friendship with this guy have grown impressive mind muscles on you, you manage to make abstraction of it. 

It just stops existing for a while until he leaves and you’re curious to see what’s inside. And again you have the same old intentions as before. The same ones.

You won’t use it. 

It’s curiosity. And it's fine for you to be curious because he’s the one buying it and gifting it to you. Why should you be blamed?

Freshly hopped in bed, just done reading the notice hanging over your face, you’re yawning and sending your eyebrows high in interest. Again you won’t use it but it sounds very interesting. That’s when you get a text from him.

Guk

So about the toy!

As if you were waiting for his explanation. As if the conversation got cut short and you were expecting him to pick it back up whenever possible.

You won’t entertain him.

You

I said not to buy me this.

Guk

You never said that! You said something about me being crazy but never about buying one again

Because you're mostly made of petty bitch material, you scroll higher quickly, wishing to find something, any text that would corroborate what you’re saying.

You don’t find anything though. Because you never actually told him to not buy you other toys by text, and now that you come to think of it, you probably never did out loud either because you didn’t fucking know that he would even consider doing so.

It’s not even Christmas anymore. It’s not your birthday. There’s even less of a valid reason for him to get you this therefore, of course, you did not explicitly warn him not to, you didn’t think it would be necessary.

You

It’s not even my fucking bday why???

Guk

I told you the lady at the shop

But who the hell is that lady?

Guk

She talked about a lot of products and they all seemed cool and because you liked the other one I thought I’d get you this one too

You

Jungkook

This simple response says a lot, you hope he can read between the pixels of his screen the desperation, the irritation, the frustration, the silent insults. 

Guk

Listen it’s super cool it's supposed to mimic the touch of a finger

Jungkook then proceeds to explain to you how it works. The original idea being a system with a tiny ball rolling under a silicon skin, to place on your clitoris to have the illusion of a finger's touch. And it’s interesting and innovative surely and sounds intriguing as in, you wonder if it’s accurate, but you’re tired and it seems like you’re wading in some sort of swamp you can’t escape from. There’s a fire burning your skin from your cheeks to your chest. You’re both hating this conversation and unwilling to just draw a final period to it. This asshole.

You

I can read

Guk

So you opened it already??

There’s a bunch of excited emojis that follows his last message and fill up the empty space your lack of response leaves. 

Why and how can he be so eager?

Here comes the delusional part of your brain. It’s a very wide, very deep hallway covered in bookshelves filled to the brim with stupid interpretations and beliefs and sometimes even memories you’ve shared with him. Often next to the laters are pinned an article from a teenage magazine or the jacket of a romance movie, specifically there to validate that yes, indeed, it must have meant something. 

The door of that corridor just creaked opened. You can discern the sound, you can feel the particular atmosphere without even having to take a step through. 

Is it really that normal to be so excited about that? For him? As a friend?

It’s the most frustrating part: you are friends. Friends who supposedly can tell each other everything. Friends who can ask each other anything. 

You should be able to talk about it. Just ask him. If there’s anything behind this whole mess, if he means to tell you something, if it’s wholly mindless, if there’s no hidden agenda.

It should be fine. There’s only trust and affection in this friendship. 

You are still too scared, you are terrified that he’d start linking dots, ask himself some new questions, potentially answer them himself, and have you all found out.

You'd have your barely well-worn cover thrown completely away. 

You send the blank emoji. The one with even the eyes closed. It summarizes your actual state pretty well, speechless, relatively annoyed. 

Guk

She said you could try it on other parts of your body too

Guk

At first

Guk

Like on your lips or your nipples

You want to die.

Now.

No, better, you wish to have never been born. 

Why is he talking about your nipples? Why?

And through all that, you still feel like something is wrong with you, along with your feelings. 

Turns out you are so overwhelmed by his clueless inadequacy, you need a good half an hour and a random shot of tequila to get through it. When it’s gone and exhaustion of a long day and alcohol have knocked nervousness and panic out, you fall asleep, forgetting about answering his outrageous last texts. 

“What does it mean if a guy talks about your nipples?”

Min's finger stops midair, above the cash register she's been working on. She needs a good minute to get back to her senses and while you wait, anxiety invades you. Maybe you should never have brought it up. 

But this question, the torturous thing is slowly killing you.

Min finally turns her head to you, eyes squinted and eyebrows drawn low. She sucks in her pretty red lips before opening them to start formulating, with it seems a certain struggle, an answer. 

“I don’t think I quite understand.”

It’s a pretty straightforward, relatively easy question. That’s what you'd want to say but you’ve reached the state of bashful regret and decide not to press it. Some things are better just left alone. 

“Who talked about your nipples?” She ends up asking the one thing you wished she wouldn’t because there is no way you’re giving his name. 

“Doesn’t matter.” You mumble, turning around slightly, getting back to the task you were here, paid, to do -wipe the shelves clean and not talk about your “““love””” life. 

“I think it does. You wanna know if it means something? Like the guy's into you?”

“Something like that.” Your cheeks are aflame now. No doubt about it. You silently curse at your manager who refuses that you don’t wear the ugly hat that holds your hair back because having a curtain of hair to hold behind, as a help to keep some of your remained, sparse dignity would have been peachy. 

“What did he say exactly?”

Silence. You’re not elaborating. She sighs, defeated. 

“Well, I suppose... he’s considered the fact that you have boobs. If it’s a straight guy, that’s a good sign, I guess?” She shrugs.

You don’t like the answer. It’s exactly what the wrong, defective part of your brain, the one directly wired to your heart, wanted to hear. 

She doesn’t even have the context, anyway. It doesn’t mean much, doesn’t hold much power in your court of sensibility. 

She stares at the side of your face, clearly attempting to drill holes in your head to try and find some answers. You’re awfully silent, have said too much yet not enough and she’s dying to know the whole story. You won’t give in and she can tell. There’s no way you’re sharing the whole thing. The most, probably, probative point of the whole story: the sex toys. It’d turn her into a devastating tsunami of nonsense and misinterpretation and drown you in its wake and you can’t, when you’re already struggling to stay afloat, allow that.

Tag list: @fangirls94 @realswimshaddy @safi4x @pnkd @somewhereinthestarss @kpopfandomftw @kai-kai-bookshelf @pasteljoonie @ggukkieland

A/N: Don’t forget to click on the next button on top, two parts are being posted simultaneously :)

[ushidoux]

Not Enough - Oikawa (Haikyuu) x Reader x Gojo (JJK)

Summary: Your relationship with Oikawa feels more like a curse than anything else as it comes to a close. (~4.2k words) or tl;dr gojo is mr. steal your girl

Warnings: breakup, idk Gojo is a warning, cracky angst?, pegging mention, yandere themes

A/N: Ngl I’m patting myself on the back for making a crossover fic work somewhat LOLLLL, you can roll your eyes if you want this is hella melodramatic.

(if you wanna commission more niche things, you can always dm me <3)

---

“I-I think it’s best for us to end things here, Tooru...”

Oikawa’s fingers tightened around the cell phone in his hand at the sound of your shakily delivered proposition, and further at the abrupt pregnant pause thereafter - not because he was angry, nor afraid, but out of an all-encompassing confusion.

Two things were wrong with this situation. First of all, it was late enough for you, thousands of miles away, that he was genuinely surprised that you were still awake in the first place and the fact that your voice was thick with tears was particularly upsetting, implying that you’d been up all night before you decided to call. Second, you had to be feeling unwell because you were talking pure nonsense.

He must have not heard correctly. You wanted to ‘end things’?

End what? You and him? That couldn’t possibly happen.

Moments passed, maybe even a full minute, and Oikawa stood perfectly still in spite of the uncomfortable combination of a weightless sensation in his legs and a feverish pounding in his chest as he tried to let himself understand what you were saying. Suddenly lightheaded, he realized he had been holding his breath while you remained quiet on the other end of the line. Maybe he was hoping for you to fill the silence, but he knew you wouldn’t offer anything additional; he could tell from the single soft sniffle that betrayed your sadness.

He sucked air into his lungs.

“I... don’t know what you mean,” Oikawa replied, his voice steady even if his body wasn’t.

You continued.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore. It’s really hard… and I get so lonely, and I know it’s wrong, but sometimes it hurts to see you so happy without me…”

Your voice was smaller still, enough that he strained to hear you past the rush of blood past his temples. For a moment, he considered pretending he couldn’t hear you say such unpleasant things just so that he wouldn’t have to deal with the reality unfolding in front of him in this disdainfully sunny early afternoon, while he stood in the middle of the hallway right outside of his high rise apartment.

The fact that you had finally given up on him after all this time.

In a small way, Oikawa couldn’t blame you. While he had been gone chasing his dream, the emerging star had just as quickly been running further away from you day by day. He knew this was mostly his fault: he called you less frequently and whenever you did talk, the conversations were shorter and less substantial until you and he both felt like your interactions were a simple chore, a checkbox on his never-ending to-do list.

But yet, he could and would absolutely blame you. Long distance was hard but you had promised you’d stay by his side, hadn’t you? You’d promised him, rain or shine, through drought and storm. What could possibly be the issue now?

Even if you hurt, it would only be temporary, and he could always make up for it in full or even twice-fold. In fact, he was on his way to come see you in person this very second; it would just be mere hours before his flight would depart. Coming suddenly on holiday like this was meant to be a surprise, and his suitcase beside him was filled with gifts and souvenirs for you that would, at least partially, assuage your hurt.

At least he thought. Maybe the issue stemmed deeper, starting with the very fact that you weren’t such a fan of gifts - what you really craved was loyalty and quality time - and that too, he had chosen to ignore. Because it was easier to love you the way he wanted to love you, rather than the way you wanted to be loved.

You were often indecisive anyway. Did you ever truly know what you wanted?

“___, stop being silly. I love you -”, he paused at this last declaration for emphasis, gauging your reaction, of which you gave him none, then continued, “-and I’m coming to see you before the sun sets tomorrow,” he insisted, a stern edge in his voice to further supplant the denial that was keeping him able to breathe. Strength returning to his limbs, he resumed his path to the elevators, dragging his belongings behind him.

You were silly. You missed him and you were delirious from loneliness and sleep, and that’s why ridiculous things were coming out of your mouth, that’s all it had to be, he figured. End things? What you had was something precious and irreplaceable. Nothing could be better than what you were together.

It would be you and him for life, at least to him.

Unfortunately for you, that ideal had long since perished.

Any other time, you would have paused, your breath hitching in your throat, your heart pounding as you conjured up the image of your Tooru coming to be in your arms once more, to cross the vast distance and be yours again as it should be. He’d be quick to show you that he chose you over crowded gyms full of adoring spectators, a perfect set, the rush of victory, or a pretty Instagram model.

Any other time before, but time had run out with both you and him unsuspecting, in a flash of clear blue eyes.

---

A few months earlier...

“I’m not interested.”

Your voice was flat and so was your expression. Muttering a soft ‘excuse me’, you walked past the tall young man who had taken the fact that he’d helped you reach an item on the highest shelf (despite the fact that you were still somewhat tall, you still had struggled), as an invitation to follow you around the grocery store.

The stranger had started off indiscreetly at first, and you had to admit, when you’d passed him in the aisle, you had given him a double-take, and it wasn’t just because you were wondering how he could see the food before him with a black blindfold wrapped over his eyes, so you hadn’t thought too much of it. He was admittedly handsome - at least the lower part of his face was - and his relaxed voice and posture as he reached over and handed you your box of cereal reminded you just a smidge of your Tooru.

Your Tooru wouldn’t be caught in that nondescript dark ensemble, though.

Saying “thanks” and continuing on your merry way should have been enough. But instead, this same man had immediately started walking besides you as you pushed your cart as though he knew you, making comments about your groceries.

“I’m not particularly fond of eggs, but they’re a good source of protein.”

“You seem to have a sweet tooth, just like me!”

You probably should have been concerned about this man’s mental state, but he didn’t exactly seem harmful or delusional, just weird. But you were almost done with your shopping trip, and now he was in line with you with a single bag of chips in his hand, and it occurred to you for a while that this stranger might try to follow you home.

“Do you need something, sir?” You told him in exasperation.

He furrowed his eyebrows in mild confusion, still a smidge too close behind you and raised his bag of chips. “No, I’m fine.”

“Why are you following me?” You finally said, bolder than usual in this semi-crowded grocery store. You had had enough of being polite and you’d tried very hard so far. Today had been a long day and you just wanted to cook a meal and sleep, not argue with strangers.

“Oh, I was trying to be friendly,” he replied, shrugging, as though that were normal behavior, and thus here you were, switching lanes abruptly while making it clear to him that he needed to leave you the fuck alone.

Checking out of the store with your items occurred without incident but you had to admit you were both irritated and confused about that encounter, and again, while you didn’t exactly feel malicious intent or really any sort of ‘creepiness’ from the young man, the behavior was nevertheless alarming. You surreptitiously glanced over your shoulder just to make sure he wasn’t still in sight, only to catch him walking in the other direction, whistling again with the single bag of chips in his hand, now paid for.

Again stunned, you found yourself lost in a stare for a moment, a million questions in your head.

What was he trying to accomplish? And most importantly, how could he see with that blindfold?

What did he look like without it?

Quickly realizing your questions were getting absurd, you decided that whether he was attractive or not was a completely inconsequential thought, because the fact of the matter was that he had to be clinically insane. Absolutely.

With that thought in mind, you texted a friend briefly sparing the least salient details.

Call me in about thirty minutes if I don’t call you first. I’ll fill you in later.

Just for safety’s sake, but thankfully, you didn’t think you’d ever seen him again.

You may have brought up your odd encounter to Tooru that night, if he had managed to return your call.

---

“Go to sleep, I’ll talk to you when I land tomorrow. I love you, ____.”

Before you could protest, the line cut off abruptly and you lowered your phone to your lap. Now it was no longer just your voice wavering, but your entire body trembling as you sat over the side of your bed. You lurched forward, the pit of your stomach heavy with guilt.

Your Tooru was coming to see you and for once, he was the last person you wanted to see.

---

You had left your home a little later than usual but given that you would rather die than miss your morning coffee and croissant, you still stopped by your neighborhood bakery.

Noting that the line was a little longer than expected, you queued up, humming softly to the beats of your favorite song, not registering that the man standing before you had turned slowly in your direction and was now smiling down at you.

“Fancy seeing you here again.”

Your eyes furrowed as you looked up, then almost yelped in surprise when your eyes registered the same white-haired stranger who had stunned you at the supermarket lined up just two paces before you.

What the-

Of all the coffee shops in this city, why here? The hairs on your neck stood up on end, worse when he decided to keep speaking.

“Let me buy your coffee,” he proposed, tentatively. “Only condition is that you have to drink it with me.”

Today, the strangest of strangers almost looked normal; rather than a blindfold, his eyes were hidden by a dark pair of sunglasses and his hair had been allowed to fall into a slightly windswept cut. He was also dressed less eclectically, in a loose-necked long sleeved shirt and a pair of fitted dark jeans.

Like this, you could call him fashionable. He was definitely forward, at the very least.

He was obviously flirting and normally you would have a curt prepared answer for him, but the manner in which he leaned forward, smirking with hands on his hips, again felt too familiar. Like Tooru, who had forgotten to call you back and instead sent you a quick text that promised he’d get back to you.

If he remembered.

Before you knew it, and almost embarrassed as soon as it left your mouth, you blurted out, “I… have to go to work.”

It wasn’t a lie but for some reason it came out like one. Perhaps because what you would have normally said was, “I have a boyfriend,” without giving him a second look.

He frowned nevertheless.

“That’s too bad,” he finally said, letting out a loud sigh, excessively dramatic for the situation. You stared at him, dumbfounded, and he suddenly clasped his hands together, preparing to say something else but the barista had called for the next customer.

He made a motion for you to go before him, and flustered, you obliged, giving the barista a look that implored for help in any way he could offer it. The barista knew you well enough to ring up your order before you even asked for it, but not well enough to sense that the man behind you was actively harassing you.

“I can buy my own coffee, sir,” you murmured once you saw him rummage in his pockets and pull out his wallet while the barista went off to toast your pastry.

He grinned widely.

“Call me Satoru.”

---

“A drink for you, sir?”

The flight attendant’s voice betrayed a hint of irritation under her sweet tone of voice, hinting that she had been waiting for him to answer a while, and Oikawa realized that he had been staring at his phone for a lot longer than he expected. He flashed her his classic pearly whites before nodding, but the wheels in his head were still turning.

A mere couple of hours into the first leg of his flight back to Japan, he had taken to poring over his last few conversations with you.

Conversations that, at least from his end, had become pressured, short, and at times, he had been downright dismissive.

But he loved you - you had to understand that! It was a lot to manage:  being available for you but also giving 150% of himself to the game.

So what if he missed your calls but kept his Instagram up-to-date? So what if he was a little bit too cozy with his fans (and known to be so)?

There was always you, and you were supreme. He’d do anything for you.

“Wine?” The attendant offered him the higher octave in her voice making it clear that Oikawa had managed to charm her back into her retail persona.

Maybe a glass, but he’d limit his drinking. He wouldn’t want to disappoint you when you met.

---

You were shocked.

Satoru stopped a car that was meant to crush you, and you were still trying desperately to comprehend what had just transpired.

You were possibly too eager to escape that coffee shop, to get away from the young man whose presence both unsettled your stomach and made your face grown warm, that you’d hurried out into the crosswalk, somewhat complicated drink and slightly crisped pastry in hand, and right into the path of a car hurtling through a red light.

You didn’t have time to scream or rarely even time to drop your drink, but the impact of your carelessness and preoccupation, between him, being late to work, wondering why the fuck your boyfriend had yet again forgotten to text back, never came.

Instead, the car seemed to halt to a stop almost immediately before you, before him who now stood before you with lips held into a neutral expression, and one hand in his pocket. Even if time seemed to stop for a split second, the force that should have struck your body didn’t, instead hurtling around you in a terrifying gust of wind.

But you were safe.

There was a shatter of glass windows as energy redistributed and the car took the brunt of the shock, and airbags deployed, engulfing the driver who could have possibly ended your life.

When Satoru finally turned to you slowly, looking at your cowering form, you finally caught a glimpse of piercing blue. For once he wasn’t smiling, and he was suddenly much more terrifying than anything else.

As though the mask had come off.

He didn’t ask if you were okay. Instead, he asked you to control your grief.

---

You shouldn’t be able to love anyone so much that your heart breaks repeatedly.

Something about you had to be pathological - it couldn’t be normal to feel the pain of separation this acutely. It was just a long-distance relationship, even if he was just getting more famous and less available by the day.

You shouldn’t wake up wondering if you could still breathe without him.

You shouldn’t.

---

“I’m a sorcerer,” Gojo revealed as he stirred a warm caramel latte, as though he had said the most natural thing in the world.

You tilted your head over so slightly, knit eyebrows betraying your confusion.

“... Like a circus performer?”

The repetitive turn of his wrist halted almost immediately and he looked at you, the constant smug smirk immediately awash from his features.

“Do I look like I belong in the circus?!” He half-exclaimed, half-whined, as though you were the only patrons in this bustling coffee shop. Part of you was bent on saying yes, but you kept mum yet staring at his face in distress, you find yourself stifling a giggle.

Now that he’d saved your life, you felt (and probably erroneously so) obligated to at least indulge him in coffee, and your curiosity about the young man sitting before you a whole day later now waffled between morbid and genuine.

Cursed energy? Leaking from you? Sorcery?

He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair once he realized you were more entertained by his distress than anything else, crossing his arms and raising his legs on the table. You stared at the bottom of his shoes with mild disgust but instead focused on his face.

He really was like your Tooru, the boyfriend that slipped away from your reach in your nightmares, causing you to wake in a cold sweat. You shook the thought of your head, a quick barely perceptible movement, and crossed your own arms.

“You’re sad enough that I can sense it, which despite the fact that I am obviously quite gifted, can be a bit of an issue long term.”

“Why would it be an issue to you?”

“Because grief creates spirits and spirits are a pain in my ass.”

You furrowed your eyebrows again.

“So you followed me because you thought I was sad?” It sounded far fetched enough but absolutely on brand for a weirdo like the man before you. You took a sip of your tea - you’d picked chai for this… meeting. It wasn’t a date.

He grinned, an elbow rested on the table propping up his chin as he leaned back towards you.

“No, it’s because I thought you were beautiful.” ---

For the first time in a year, Oikawa’s first step back on Japanese soil did not immediately bring him joy but anxiety.

It was odd for him to feel anxiety, this unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach, but of course it would dissipate the moment he saw you.

But first, a warm shower in his new hotel room. Then he’d go to see you.

It felt odd not to have you waiting for him, your million dollar - no, priceless - smile on your face, so he could kiss you dramatically in the midst of all watching to again reassert that you are his, and his alone.

But you were upset, and understandably so.

So he would come to you, as a good boyfriend should.

---

“I have a boyfriend,” you told him immediately and indignantly, as you got up to leave. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you I’m not interested.”

He didn’t rise as fast as you did, watching you calmly instead as you balled your fists in irritation. It’s so shameless how he flirts, you thought. He’s so bold and rude and even if he’s a ‘sorcerer’ as he claims, there’s no spell that he can cast onto you that will make you leave Oikawa for him.

Not your Tooru, whose last Instagram post features a beautiful, tan, large-breasted and bikini-clad woman you’ve never met.

“Where is he then?” Satoru said in a low voice. He didn’t necessarily mean to cut but it did anyway. A lump formed in your throat.

“Overseas.”

---

The sound of chirping crickets is surprisingly loud for this part of the city, Oikawa considered, as he made his way towards your apartment building. It was an atypically warm evening for this point in the spring and he briefly mused if that is what excited them. Maybe they were cheering for him. They sounded a lot like the crowds if he closed his eyes.

He also hoped you had room for the gifts he carried with him, the most important of which was a Cartier bracelet he would hand to you once he departed, with a solid gold T for Tooru.

If he was on the search for fame and glory, he had to spoil you too, right?

To think that you were so angry with him that you had not yet contacted him since he had landed.

He knocked on your door finally, noting the shuffling of too many feet towards the door. This was the right door. He didn’t understand. Did you have friends over?

He called, and you didn’t immediately pick up.

---

“You have to leave!” You hissed. The statement was a plea and it was a command and it was a curse.

The blue of Satoru’s eyes was less electric in the dim moonlight, now more of a cool ice. Bare naked like this and barely visible save for the cracks of the illuminated city through your blinds, he was unfairly beautiful, as though he were carved out of marble. Again like your Tooru. Like, not better.

But still, he was there when Tooru wasn’t.

But Tooru was there now, knocking on your door, having traveled thousands of miles despite the fact that you had broken up with him just yesterday.

It was too little, too late.

But you didn’t love Satoru. He was just a band-aid for the loneliness that wrung agony out of you.

Right?

“I don’t want to leave,” your makeshift lover replied, flatly.

Your glare was sharp and instant, but Satoru matched your look, less pointed but unwilling to sway.

An unstoppable force, no different from the day he’d saved your life.

But he’d caused the problem in the first place, hadn’t he? Would you have run out so carelessly if not for him?

Your voice softened as you slipped on your clothes. The fight was lost before it started.

“Please? I… I can’t do this to him.”

Only a plea was left.

Your phone started to ring and your throat felt as though it would close up.

“___?”

Before you knew it, you heard your front door open and your heart dropped into your throat.

---

“What the fuck-”

Blue eyes were cruel.

Oikawa prided himself on his height but Satoru was taller, and his smirk was wide, while Oikawa’s face was ghostlike, devoid of any appreciable expression. Stunned.

“So you’re the boyfriend?” His voice dripped with mock amusement and he patted him on the shoulder before swinging open the door wide, letting Oikawa into his own girlfriend’s apartment, only to stand face to face with you whose feet seemed glued to the floor in shock.

“I.. T-Tooru..”

“Are you fucking serious?!”

His voice came out as a cry and his tears hot and fast. You never thought you’d see him crumple so fast, for you, for anything.

Your mouth opened and closed, and your hands shook but again, you stayed planted to the same spot while Satoru, still shirtless (but at least with the decency to have worn a pair of pants before answering the door), settled himself on the couch.

Before you could open your mouth to find a word to defend yourself to your sobbing boyfriend, your visitor let out an exaggerated yelp.

“____, you really showed no mercy on my asshole, did you?” he jeered. Then covering his mouth, he made a gesture of ‘Oops.’

What could you do?

Oikawa looked like he would stop breathing any second. He wanted to fight and maybe scream, but what use was that?

You had broken up with him yesterday.

You approached slowly, attempting maybe a touch, anything that would make your mistake less grievous.

You’d only been seeing Satoru for several weeks to… you weren’t sure why, really? Tooru was the one you loved. And to see him curl up like this… someone who was normally so proud...

You were disgusted with yourself.

“Tooru-”

“You said you’d wait for me.”

It was shocking how quick he rose, broken dignity, gifts and all.

“Tooru!”

He turned to leave, while Satoru contented himself on picking the earwax from his ears. It was easier to be like this, insufferable, than to gracefully accept the idea that his object of affection loved someone else.

He’d coveted you from the day he’d met you.

“Tooru!!!”

You were running after a man who gave 150% to everything, yet again. 

Everything but you.

But had he at the very least given you 100%? You weren’t sure.

Oikawa was the last person who could accept the thought of someone else. You weren’t sure if he’d call you ever again. You weren’t even sure you wanted to break up.

Cursed energy. Maybe you didn’t just leak cursed energy. Maybe you were just cursed.

Heart shattering to pieces once Oikawa was no longer within view, you made it back to your room. Satoru was there waiting, and you couldn’t see the look in his eyes, but his arms were open, and so you fell into them.