#god he was so nice about it that i just feel so bad. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

noctiva · 2 days ago

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Flesh + Blood

toby rogers x f!reader [NSFW!]

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WC: 10.1k

Summary: toby usually tries to keep the more violent aspects of his life out of your line of sight, but after a mission gone awry you get a taste of his true self. literally.

CW: 18+ content, filthy dirty nasty shit, descriptions of violence and gore, rough handling, masochistic tendencies + just masochism in general, heavy sadism, biting, blood kink!!!, marking, dead dove don’t come at me, explicit sexual content, unsafe sex, creampie, hair pulling, degradation but also praise (kinky ver. of hurt/comfort), rough oral sex, dirty talk, dacryphilia, CNC if you squint, toby being mean in a hot way, reader is a fuhREAK

Reminder to separate reality from fiction! Some of the acts written here are definitely not recommended to imitate. Be safe!

[also, if you can speak german I’m sorry lmao I used google translate ε-(´∀｀; ) if you can’t speak it just highlight then hit translate!]

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NSFW under the cut! Minors do not interact!

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You had known Toby had a bad day before he even walked through the door.

The morning, had been like any other. Your boyfriend waking you up with soft, sleepy kisses against your neck, your limbs tangled with his beneath the covers. His soft hair tickled your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin as the morning sun shone through the window of the cabin you called home.

"Gotta g-go out today." He had murmured, voice thick with sleep and gravelly - his stubble scratching gently against your jaw. "Boss's orders."

His hands had slid up your body, under the loose t-shirt you had worn to bed - his calloused palms a soothing abrasiveness that quickly smoothed over any disgruntled thoughts about him leaving for the day. Up your stomach, over your ribs, resting just under the swell of your breast to feel your heart beat beneath his touch. "Don't worry, it's an e-easy job. Should only be gone f-for an hour or two."

You had reached up, threading your fingers through his messy, chestnut brown hair - knotted with bedhead, but still so soft as the strands slipped through the gaps. You nodded softly, pulling him in closer, murmuring a gentle 'be safe' next to his ear before pressing a kiss to the lobe.

And Toby had laughed, a sweet, honey-like sound before he lifted his head to look at you proper through his half-lidded eyes. "You-You're sayin' that t-to me?" He had chuckled, a cocky, yet boyish grin stretching across his lips.

God, that smile. It did something to you every single time. How his eyes crinkled up at the corners, and that one dimple that sunk into his unmarred cheek. His teeth, crooked and chipped from too many blows to the face, had a unique quality to them that left you charmed. Every imperfection on Toby, was perfection to you. Even the left half of his face, mangled and scarred, flesh torn from gums to leave his back molars on display at all times.

Grotesque, to most, but to you it was simply captivating. Just another special quirk in the sea of things that made up the man you loved. "You fuh- forget who you're t-talkin' to?" He had chastised you lightly, raising an eyebrow. "Baby, I am the danger. You- You know that."

You did know. But it was so easy to forget, when he was so sweet on you.

"Yeah, I know." You had hummed back to him. "I just forget sometimes, because you're so nice to me."

A little snort of a laugh left Toby, and he rolled his eyes, just before leaning down again to press a gentle kiss between your eyebrows.

"Remind me to j-jog your memory sometime." He had huffed softly. "I'm p-plenty scary."

That had been at just past eleven this morning, and now as you stood in the kitchen - with one of Toby's shirts hanging oversized over your body - it was nearly six. The mid-October sun has already started dipping under the horizon line, filtering in streaks of pink and gold through the window while you busied yourself.

If you didn't, you knew you'd just start to worry - despite the fact that you knew Toby would just make fun of you for doing so.

A paring knife in your hands, you were peeling potatoes whilst humming softly to yourself, a pot of stew simmering on the stove next to you. If he had been out this long, you were sure he must've worked up an appetite, and needed something warm to ward off the chill accumulated in his bones.

Besides, you liked doting on Toby. Liked to see the way his eyes shone when you did something for him just out of the good or your heart - because you loved him. You wanted him to always know that fact, never doubt the love you kept harboured in your heart just for him and him alone. It was more little gestures than big ones; scrubbing bloodstains out of his clothes and patching up holes, tending to wounds he didn't notice he acquired, or cooking dinner like right now.

None of these things felt like chores, they were almost therapeutic. And so as you stood by the stove, chopping potatoes into little cubes, you were blissfully calm despite your boyfriend's extended absence. The television was on in the living room, playing some old rerun movie you had only picked for background noise. The fireplace below it crackled, though it was dying because it had been a little too long since you had thrown in a new log.

Was this domestic bliss? It sure felt like it. Maybe as close to it as you would come, with a literal axe murderer as your chosen partner.

And like a tulpa born straight from your thoughts, the moment your mind wandered back to Toby - the man himself was making an entrance like a freight train.

The front door burst open, so quickly slicing through the soft and cozy atmosphere you had been shrouded in. You couldn't see him, not yet, because the entryway to your home was behind a rounded corner - but you should sure as hell hear him.

The door creaking before it slammed shut. Heavy boots knocking against wood floor. The metallic clang of something hitting the ground (presumably his hatchets), and soft grumbled curses spilling from his lips.

You had been right. You knew there was something off about today.

"Toby?" You call to him, your voice soft and gentle. Not wanting to poke the bear even more than it already had been. Setting the knife down on the cutting board, you quickly shut off the stove and move the pot to a cold burner. Then, with your feet moving faster than your mind was, you make your way out of the kitchen and through the living room. "Are you o-"

The words die on your tongue the moment you round the corner. Now, you were well aware of what Toby did when he left home. Though he hid the gory details from you more often than not, his stained clothes were all of the confirmation you really needed. He was a killer, a good one at that, judging from the little snippets of what he had told you.

But right now, he looked like more than that. He looked like a butcher.

The amount of blood almost didn't look real. Like something out of some gorefest slasher film rather than the authentic remains of a real human being. Toby was coated in it. It was matting in his hair, smeared across the goggles that were pushed up onto his forehead. It was clinging to his eyelashes, dripping down his cheeks and off of his chin. His sweater was drenched, splattered with crimson and torn at the hems - like the fabric had been snagged by the forest brush as he trudged through it.

There was a handprint on his chest, just below his shoulder - smeared and frantic, like someone had been trying to shove him off of them, clawing at the fabric in vain.

Then your eyes trail up again, and god. The look in his eyes.. Dark, somehow both simultaneously dead hollow and wildly crazed. It was almost hard to believe this was the same man who had left the house this morning.

"B-Bitch got away." Snapping you out of your stunned stupor, is Toby's voice - gravelly and strained, sounding almost like he had spent the last hour just screaming his lungs out. You blink a few times, feeling as though his very presence has given you whiplash, before squeaking out;

"What?" Your gaze drops down, eyeing the pool of red accumulating beneath his boots, and you have to ask yourself if at least some of it is his, because there's just so much. Also, you're suddenly very happy you chose hardwood over carpets.

"She- fuck! -She got a-away." Toby repeats himself, his shoulders jerking as an involuntary tic wracks his body. You could hear his joints crack and pop as it happened, a noise that you really never got used to, no matter how much you loved him. He takes a step closer, then another, his boots producing a sickening squelch against the floor. "I fuh- fuckin' gutted her like a damn fish, and she g-got away!"

He's looking down at you, wild eyes glinting in the low light of the entryway, and you can't help but shrink a little. You had never seen him like this. Bloodied and bruised, sure, but never drenched in it - body shaking with unspent adrenaline as he recounted what he had done in graphic detail. "Cut her from here-" He poked your belly button through your shirt with a stained finger, the touch making your whole body tense up. "Up to 'er tits, a-and she still got away. F-Fuckin' scooping up her own guts with her hands as she ran." You look up to meet his eyes, and he's already staring dead straight into yours. "C-Can you believe that?"

He goes silent, looking at you expectantly, and it takes you a few moments to realize that he's actually waiting for an answer. You give him a small, jerky shake of your head, and clear your throat.

"No." You manage out, your voice coming out much softer and shakier than you had meant it to. "That... That doesn't make any sense."

Toby lets out a bark of a laugh, hollow and dry - nothing like the warm and soft chuckle that had graced your ears just this morning. It's a chilling sound, almost maniacal in the way he takes in a wheezing breath afterwards, his head tilting backwards as a warped version of a smile stretches across his lips.

"Yeah, n-no shit." He snorts, before stepping around you and stalking into the living room. You follow, because what the hell else are you supposed to do, collecting blood on the soles of your socked feet as you adhere to the gruesome trail he leaves behind. Toby, pays no mind to any of the mess he's creating, too caught up in his own tumultuous mind to realize that it's starting to look like the murder (or, attempted one, you guess) played out here. "Her friends were easy, maybe t-too easy, but I had expected that! S-She wanted to act like she was t-the fuckin' final girl."

He shrugged off the coat he had been wearing over top of his hoodie, the material falling to the ground with a heavy thump before he started trudging over to the couch. You have to bite your tongue. God, was he going to stain that too? "B-But it might be my fault. The first two were so a-agonizingly easy. So buh-boring. Wanted to have a bit of fun with the last one." He flopped back against the couch and, yup, now your sofa is now smeared with blood as well. "Shoulda just lodged my axe between 'er f-fuckin' eyes."

Something about the way he's speaking, so detached from the acts he committed, made your blood run ice cold in your veins. There's a pit in your stomach, and your chest feels tight every time you take in a quivering breath.

His eyes lift to meet yours from where he's sitting on the sofa, and that's when you realize it.

You're scared of him.

Your palms feel clammy, your heart thudding so hard in your chest that it feels like it's bruising your ribs from the inside. You were scared of him. Of Toby. Never, not once in the years you had been by his side, had you ever felt fear run through your veins while in his presence.

Not when you wiped a few little speckles of blood from his face, not when you sat beside him outside as he sharpened his hatchets, not even on one of his bad days when he would get snappy and snide with you.

But right now? Oh, there was no denying the feeling swirling through your veins like a toxin. You were damn near petrified, and oddly - it was exhilarating.

It was hard to explain exactly what avenue your mind went down, but you were pretty sure it went a little something like this: Toby was always so sweet to you, almost sickeningly so, barely letting you get more than a peek into what he did when those orange goggles of his came down over his eyes. He was hardly ever harsh with you, like you were an angel, and he was scared to sully your spotless white wings with his stained hands. Right now, as he sat before you, eyes cold and his skin growing sticky with drying blood, he was the exact opposite of that. Finally, finally, letting you see every part of who he really is, right down to the gory details.

It made something in you stir. Excitement? Awe? You weren't quite sure. All you knew was that the lead in your stomach was moulding into butterflies.

"Well, she's got to be dead." You murmur, approaching him slowly, eyes locked on him as he settles into the couch - legs spread and his head tilting back against the cushions. Fuck. Were you crazy? Why has he never looked hotter? "If what you said is true, she probably didn't make it far before collapsing. Probably died from blood loss, or shock."

You come to stand before him, right between his knees, and the way he stares up at you has your own nearly buckling under the weight of his gaze. "There's no way she lived."

"Y-You'd think, right?" He hums back to you, his voice low as he leans forwards and rests his elbows on his thighs. "And yet I never found her f-fuckin' corpse. She got away after s-socking me in the nose and I just... Never saw her again. Combed that forest for hours." He reached up, pointing a finger at you. "And you know. You know t-that I know those woods like the b-back of my hand. I looked everywhere." You swallow thickly. "Nothin'. No corpse, no blood trail to lead me to her. The bitch went g-ghost."

"She's dead, Toby. She's got to be. There's just no way." You reassure him. Then, slowly, you sink downwards, folding into a kneel on the ground between his thighs. Wanting to be eye-level, but also, wanting to be closer. Despite the blood - because of the blood - you weren't sure. Your mind was a tangled mix of emotions, and all of them were volatile. Toby watches you, his eyes unreadable as his gaze tracks you moving downwards in his line of sight. "I'm sure you got her."

"Yeah, well." He had noticed your shift in demeanour immediately. Through his clouded mind, there was a shred of guilt that had been prodding at him when he caught sight of the fear in your eyes - so sweet and lovely compared to him, like a scared little rabbit cowering before a pack wolf. It was still there, that anxiety, but it was bordered with something else. Something he couldn't quite put a finger on. Or maybe, something he just didn't think was plausible. "I-It's not a job done unless there's a-a body to show for it." He reaches up, wiping away some of the blood that had begun to drip into his eye, smearing it across his skin in consequence. Your heart leaps. "Brian and Tim are pissed. T-Told 'em I could do this one on my own and look what h-happened."

“Well it’s not your fault.” You breathe back to him, holding his gaze as you place a reassuring hand on his knee - looking up at him through your eyelashes. “How were you supposed to know she would practically be immortal?”

Toby laughs dryly and shakes his head, watching you for a moment before he reaches down and pinches your chin between his fingers. You can feel it as the blood smears against your face, and you can smell it - sickly metallic, almost sour. It made your stomach churn.

“Not immortal, just way t-too determined.” His thumb smooths against your cheek, dark brown eyes watching with interest at the stark red mark he leaves against your soft skin. Pretty. He thinks to himself. Real fucking pretty. He really can’t help it when he tightens his grip a little bit, just to feel how soft you are. How fragile you are.

Your eyes widen minutely, and he lets out a soft hum before dragging his hand up the side of your face - painting the canvas that was his pretty girl’s skin. Might even be prettier if it was your own blood. It takes a lot of willpower on his end to squash that thought down.

Toby would never hurt you, he had sworn that to himself on the first day you had met eyes, but he’d be damned if he said he didn’t think about it sometimes. About how your eyes may look, glassy with tears while your face scrunches up in agony. What specific shade of red your blood is. How it tastes. Smells. How it would look smeared across your perfect tits.

Leaving scarlet handprints on your ass, hips, neck, all just to lick you clean afterwards.

He wouldn’t though. He couldn’t. You were far too lovely for that. Far too gentle to be tainted by the likes of someone like him. It was a miracle you hadn’t been already.

It was getting a little difficult to restrain himself though, when you were kneeled before him looking like something pulled straight from a wet dream. So decadently pure, with trails of his sin streaked across your face.

He could fucking eat you whole if you’d let him.

“Toby?” Your voice, soft like spun silk, pulls his thoughts out of the depravity they had been falling into. He tears his eyes away from where his hand met your cheek, and sinks into your irises instead - which might just be a more dangerous route. Wide, like a deer in the headlights you look up at him, with a slight tremble to your bottom lip that makes his stomach feel hot. Makes his whole body feel hot, like you had set him alight with one look.

He doesn’t respond at first, instead just holding your gaze as his hand slips down. Then his eyes are flickering towards the sight of his fingers instead as he presses his thumb to your bottom lip. He swipes across it, smearing blood on your lip like some grotesque form of lipstick - his breathing stuttering when you’re left with the most decadent shade of red against the soft plushness.

“P-Pretty.” Toby can’t stop himself from saying, his voice just above a whisper. As if in a trance, he pushes his thumb past your lips without a second thought, hooking into your jaw and prying your mouth open. You sputter, face immediately scrunching up at the action.

You can taste it, the blood. Somebody else’s blood, drained from some poor victim Toby had incapacitated. It was pungently metallic, just a tad bitter, and it immediately made your stomach twist when it hit your tastebuds. With eyebrows furrowed you pull away from him, watching how a pink-tinged line of spit connects your mouth to his finger before it breaks.

You spit onto the floor beside you, not caring about the mess because there was already so much to clean up. You just needed the taste out of your mouth. Toby though, he had other plans.

There’s still drool dribbling down your chin when his hand seizes your jaw again, tilting your head back to look at him with a force that made goosebumps prickle your skin. “You d-don’t like it?” He asks as he leans forwards a little, wild eyes boring into yours. His fingers dig into your jaw, with a strength he’s never shown on you before, and suddenly you’re wondering just how much he’s been holding back all of this time.

You shake your head once, before clearing your throat.

“Don’t like the taste.” You murmur, trying to ignore the fact that your body was so easily conceding to him. Scared, but still so willing, still so eager. You could feel your skin heating up more and more with each second that ticked by.

Why? You should be pushing him away, right? Shoving him towards the shower and throwing his bloody clothes in the wash. For some reason though, you just couldn’t. You were disgusted by the taste on your tongue, shaking where you kneeled because of the man before you, and yet you couldn’t force yourself to move. Not even out of fear anymore, out of something worse. Something sick and twisted that had been sleeping for a long time, now clawing its way to the surface with jagged nails.

“No?” Toby presses his fingers to your lips again, this time his pointer and middle finger both - watching you with an intensity that made you squeeze your thighs together. You knew what he was doing. He was testing you. Seeing whether you’d take the bait and give in, or stick to your morals and shove him away for the second time.

Right then, you remember what he had said to you earlier that day. ‘Remind me to jog your memory sometime. I’m plenty scary.’

You wanted more proof of that.

And so you meet his eyes, then slowly part your lips. His pupils practically swallow his irises whole, eyes going damn near black before he’s slipping his blood soaked fingers into your mouth.

Again, you get the acrid taste or blood on your tongue, and it makes your stomach turn just like it did the first time. But you don’t push him off this time, you let him push further, further - until you’re gagging when the tips of his fingers hit the back of your throat. “Lügnerin.” He murmurs darkly, watching with a keen interest as you sputter on his fingers - drool pooling at the corners of your lips. “You d-do like it.”

You whimper around the digits, a sound that even you would admit was pathetic, and it just makes Toby’s lips twist into a wicked grin. The rasp of his mother tongue always did something to you, he knew that and he found it so adorable how you just melted for him when he spoke it - even if you didn’t have the slightest clue what he was saying.

This was just like - no, better than - his wildest dreams. You looked so pretty and pitiful. His sweet girl. His angel. Kneeling before him, just begging to be ruined.

How could he ever deny you? “Y-You’re not as innocent as I thought, huh?” He taps his fingers against your tongue, his eyes glinting dangerously. “Lick ‘em clean.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment you completely freeze up - aghast by the command he’d just given you. You couldn’t deny how the low drawl of his voice sent tingles straight down to your gut, leaving you shifting where you sat before him. It was a humiliating thing to realize, but the evidence was there, already dampening your panties.

You were incredibly turned on.

You breathe in a breath through your nose, before closing your lips around his fingers - suctioning to them as you began to gently suck. It was filthy. Your mouth coated with a metallic tang, your tongue scrubbing against his rough callouses. It nearly made you gag, and yet you didn’t stop, you kept going - swirling your tongue around the digits until they were spotless, and you were releasing them with a soft ‘pop’.

“Scheiße..” Toby breathes out, his voice rougher than before as he stares down at you. At his two fingers, now starkly cleaner than the rest of his hand. Your lips are stained even more now, and it’s smeared across your chin and cheek, making you look like such a bloody little mess for him. If you let him go this far, you’d let him push more, right?

He wanted you coated in it. Wanted some of it to be your own. Needed to see what face you made when he broke skin. He knew it would be lovely, every part of you was. “S-Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He murmurs, reaching out to cup the side of your face and squeezing softly. “You really d-do like this.” Toby’s voice sounds almost awestruck, and for good reason. Who would’ve ever guessed you wouldn’t mind, scratch that, you liked seeing him like this? A lot more than you were saying, if the way you keep squirming was anything to go by.

Were you already wet? Dripping slick into your panties just from sucking blood off of his hand? His heart thuds like a drum beat in his chest, and he could feel his cock stir in his jeans just from the thought alone. How much could he push you? Just how far would you let him go?

Hell, even if you stopped him here he thinks he’d be satisfied, because what he had just witnessed was prime jerk off material for fucking years to come - but he couldn’t help but want to push his luck, and see how much he could get from you. “You like s-seeing me like this?” He asks softly. “Like seeing proof of w-what I do?”

His hand trails downwards, tracing the line of your jaw before circling your throat. Not squeezing, just resting there, making its presence known. “Makes y-you realize just how fuh-fuckin’ nice I am to you, hm? C-Could kill you so easy i-if I really wanted to.” Now he squeezes, a gentle yet firm pressure against your throat that has your pulse kicking up a notch. “You’d be d-dead before you even knew w-what happened, baby.”

He tightens his grip a little, enough for you to really feel it, and your breathing stutters because it’s already getting hard to breathe and you know he’s still holding back by a lot. “Or maybe, I’d go slow. J-Just to hear your pretty screams.”

He leans down, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fan against your face, and then he’s asking; “Would you l-let me?” It’s a question that has your heart rate spiking, making goosebumps rise over the entire surface of your skin. It’s enough to render you speechless, and so when you don’t respond, he continues. “Would you let me h-hurt you? I’d never really k-kill you, darlin’. Just wanna see you b-bleed.”

And, fuck. Fuck. Those words seemed to be armed with the intention to go straight to your cunt, and that’s exactly what they do. You can feel it as you just grow wetter, your neglected clit throbbing within the confines of your panties. It was a thin pair, something lacy and sheer (just how Toby liked them) but they still felt like too much. Restrictive. Irritating in the way they were a barrier between you and his bare touch.

Had you always been this much of a freak? Maybe. Maybe that’s why you looked past Toby’s profession so easily. Secretly indulging in the thrill, the danger of sharing a bed with someone like him.

Someone who, as he had just made clear, could end your life on a moment’s notice if he really wanted to. The constant uncertainty of another promised day, the silent wonder of if he’d ever snap on you instead.

You had been wanting this. You just hadn’t fully known it until it was staring you right in the face.

“Yeah.” You end up choking out, the last remnants of your self-respect completely flying out the window. If he wouldn’t actually kill you, maybe this was the safest way to dive into the dark desires growing within you. Maybe you wanted to experience every last thing he had been holding back over the years. What would he do to you? What had he been fantasizing about, unbeknownst to you? The uncertainty of it all, is what was making your blood hot. “If… If you really want to.”

“Oh, I want t-to.” Toby murmured softly as he drags his hand back up to your face, before sliding behind your head and pulling you closer by the nape of your neck. Closer to the crotch of his jeans, which - you had noticed but not commented on - had grown a tent in it since you had begun speaking. He really was into this just as much as you were. You suppose that shouldn’t have been a surprise at all. “D-Do you know?” Closer he draws you in, until your chin is brushing against his fly. “Do you know how many t-times I’ve thought about it? D-Dreamt about it? You screaming for me? Really screaming?”

You swallow down a lump in your throat, and you’re still trembling. Haven’t stopped, ever since you knelt before him. It was intoxicating, how he set your mind and body alight. “Y-You’re just so p-precious. So sweet to me. I never wanted to actually d-do it…” His fingers curl into your hair, gripping the strands tight enough for you to wince. “But if you’re asking me to? I won’t want to stop until you’re b-begging. And even then, I-I might not.”

You might just fucking drool from that warning alone. God, how had you not known he had been restraining himself so heavily around you? You had thought it was in his nature to be gentle and sweet, the acts he committed for the entity he served just being something he had to do. But no. He had been craving this for longer than you could imagine. Probably since the first day you met. Had he always viewed you as prey? “Y-You really want that? I don’t wanna buh-break you.”

He smiles, an expression so sweet it almost feels uncanny for the circumstances. “I love you t-too much for that.”

“I want it.” You say before you can really mill over the thought, pure impulse taking over - the craving too strong. “I want it, Toby. I do.”

He hums softly, his eyes darker than you’d ever seen them as he looks you over. You wonder what you look like from his point of view. Bloodied, begging, just centimetres away from his clothed cock. Probably like a feast, and his eyes were flickering like he was just itching to dig in.

“D-Du spielst ein gefährliches spiel, meine Liebe.” And it doesn’t even matter that you don’t know what he’s saying, you can just tell it’s a warning. By the look on his face, how his grip on you tightens to the point of near painful. You know it’s just a taste. He could give you so much more. “Prove it th-then.” He hums softly, finally releasing his hold on you in favour of settling back into the couch cushions once more. He crosses his arms over his chest, cocking an eyebrow as he watches you with an expectant gaze. “Prove that y-you want it, and maybe I-I’ll humour you.”

It was the nonchalance that had you squirming, it was what had your heart racing from the moment you stepped through the door. He wanted this just as much as you did - hell, definitely more than you did - and yet he wasn’t easily cracking like you would’ve expected. It was like he enjoyed the performance of it all, the joy of seeing you sink lower and lower all just to please him. Having his favourite girl beg on her knees for him to paint her crimson? Now isn’t that just a treat.

It takes a moment for you to will your body to move, feeling paralyzed by the sheer potency of dominance radiating off of him. Toby had always been a bit on the commanding side with you in the bedroom, but in a more gentle way.

‘I know you c-can do it for me’.

‘You look so puh-pretty on your knees. Stay just like th-that, okay?”

‘Just a l-little more. You feel so good.”

Tender coaxing. Husky words of encouragement and soft touches to move you how he wanted. You’re realizing though, that may have been a watered down version of how he really wanted to treat you.

You move slowly, your shaking hands raising from your lap to reach for his belt buckle instead. His hips twitch at the action. Eager. Impatient. Your eyes lift to meet his as you start to pull his belt loose, and you feel it as goosebumps raise on the back of your neck - sparking up a chill that travelled all the way down your spine.

Toby was watching you like a hawk, like a predator, tracking each and every movement of yours with a keen interest. It was chilling, really, but the fear just went straight to your core. His belt comes undone, and you don’t even bother pulling it from the loops before you’re popping the button of his jeans.

The fire has died out by now, and the movie you had been playing had finished the ending credits, so it was incredibly silent in the room with him. So much so, that you could hear his every breath. The sound of his zipper being pulled down sounds so incredibly loud. “D-Du bist ein k-krankes kleines ding, nicht wahr?” He’s murmuring right as you’re beginning to tug his briefs down his narrow hips, and he’s normally so cold to the touch - but he’s burning up beneath you right now. “C-Come home c-covered in filth and you j-just drop straight to your knees.”

His cock springs free just inches from your face, and you can’t help but gasp softly. You always felt like you had been blessed when it came to what your boyfriend was endowed with. Long, but not enough to hurt. Thick enough to really feel the stretch. Curved just the right amount, with a vein running up the side and flushed pink at the tip. “Schlampe.” Toby mutters under his breath, right as you feel your mouth start to water.

And you know what that word means. Your eyes dart back up to him immediately, face flushing a deep shade of pink - so perfectly complimenting the blood smeared across your skin.

“I’m not.” You murmur softly as your eyebrows scrunch together, but you close a fist around the base of his length anyway. You hear it when his breathing stutters, and you feel it when his cock jumps at the touch.

“I-I’m not convinced.” He snorts, his eyelids drooping as you pull your hand away to spit into your palm, before returning it to him nice and lubed up. He’s so warm in your hand, already so hard you can feel him throb against your palm. His words make your ears burn, because you know that you’re just proving him right as you lean your head down to lick at the tip.

Toby’s eyes flutter, a satisfied hum rumbling from his chest as you flatten your tongue against him - lapping up all the salty precum that he had already accumulated. God, he tasted good, he always did. Always left you craving more. “D-Du bist eine d-dreckige schlampe.” You’re circling your lips around the head of his cock. “Ich wusste es.”

He’s being mean and you know it, but it just makes you burn hotter as you sink your mouth down onto his length. The drawl to his voice, low and sultry as he spits germanic insults down at you - you can’t help but moan around him as you try to take in more. He’s bumping against the constrictive muscles of your throat, but you can take him if you really put your mind to it. You’ve done it before.

You’re trying to get your throat to relax, breathing in through your nose and getting comfortable - when you suddenly feel a hand on the back of your head. It’s sticky, smearing blood into your soft hair, and then it’s pushing you down.

Immediately your eyes blow open wide as you’re shoved down onto his cock, your throat burning and hot tears immediately springing to your eyes. You gag around him, fingers flying down to dig into his thighs. Your gaze darts up towards him, equal parts bewildered and frantic as you try and blink back the tears. “You were t-taking too long.” He chuckles, his grin wicked and lacking any semblance of remorse. His fingers curl into a fist in your hair, gripping the strands with enough force to make your scalp burn as he pushes you down further - until your nose is bumping against his pelvis. “You wanted this, baby. D-Don’t forget that.”

You can barely breathe, your throat practically convulsing around him as it tries and fails to adjust to the intrusion. Tears cling to your eyelashes before they’re dripping down and landing against Toby’s skin. “Ich liebe es, wenn du weinst.” Even if you squirmed you couldn’t try and get away, the strength of which he’s pushing you down being something you could only dream to fight against. “D-Du siehst so hübsch aus.”

Then he’s yanking you back upwards until just the tip remains between your lips, giving you a second to take in a few gasping breaths through your nose. You try to fill your lungs as much as you can, but it still doesn’t feel like enough when he pulling you down onto him again.

He keeps like that, grip tight on your hair as he bobs your head up and down on his cock, making you taking him to the base each and every time. Your throat feels raw, your ears are fucking ringing, and you can’t see a damn thing through the tears blurring your vision. He’s merciless with it, only giving you seconds at a time to greedily take in air before he’s filling up your throat again.

And yet somehow, you don’t think you’ve ever gotten wetter. Your pussy is throbbing, soaking through your panties and making the fabric cling to your folds. Rubbing your thighs together isn’t even helping, you’re so worked up that it’s nowhere near enough to placate you.

So, as Toby switches to holding your head in place as he bucks his hips up into your drooling mouth, you snake a hand down between your own legs.

Toby, of course, tracks the movement immediately. “Oh, poor baby.” He drawls, his tone dripping with mockery and oh so cruel. “Pussy’s g-gettin’ wet because I’m t-treating you like a wh-whore?” He huffs out, fucking up into your mouth with more vigour and making you let out a strangled whimper. “Du bist so erbärmlich. It’s c-cute.”

You whine around his cock as your fingers slip into your panties, and you waste no time finding your clit and rubbing tight circles against the slick nub. A moan leaves you immediately, vibrating through Toby’s length. He hisses out a curse, his hips stuttering a little at the sensation.

You looked so lovely. Lips stretched around his cock, drool seeping out of the corners of your mouth. Tears streaking your blood smeared skin. Your face flushed a pretty pink shade as you touch yourself almost frantically, brows pinched together in pleasure. It was an image that Toby was sure would be burned into the back of his eyelids for a long time to come.

You were just perfect.

His breathing has grown ragged, heavy huffs of breath leaving his lips each time he fucks deep into your throat. With a hand on each side of your head, your hearing is muffled - the echo chamber of your skull filled with nothing but the obscene ‘schlick, schlick’ of his dick dragging against your tongue.

You’re such a mess that it’s pitiful. There’s a growing pool of your liquids accumulating at the base of his cock and dripping between his thighs - your drool, tears, and even a bit of snot from how brutally he’s been treating your poor face. It’s so filthy, as is the slurping sound you make everytime his length leaves your mouth.

Your fingers pick up the pace - faster, more pressure - chasing the heat brewing low in your gut. Your thighs are shaking, knees aching from kneeling against the hardwood flooring, and it’s so good. So good that you can barely even think anymore, your brain reduced to a puddle of thoughtless mush that sloshed around with each buck of his hips.

Your body feels like it’s on fire. You don’t think you’ve ever felt like this before - just a bundle of desperation and need. Shaking from discomfort with an aching jaw, and yet it’s exactly where you wanted to be.

Then suddenly, you’re yanked off of his cock, which hits his stomach with a wet slap. And you’re blinking up at him, fingers stilling as you silently question him on why on earth he’s stopping. You could keep going for hours if he wanted you to, the aches and pains just something that fuelled your desire even more. “G-Get up here.” He huffs out, reaching down to grab at you before you can even process what he’s said. “Ich muss d-dich spüren.”

Your legs are shaky and sore when you rise, but lucky for you, you’re not standing for long. Toby tugs you onto his lap without hesitation, impatient hands clawing at the fabric of the loose shorts hugging your hips. “Ich werde dich zum Schreien b-bringen.” You shift, making it easier for him to tug the shorts off of you along with your soaked panties. With how he’s being, you’re pretty sure he would’ve just ripped them off if you didn’t. “Ich werde dich z-zum Weinen bringen.”

He slides a hand between your legs, a soft growl rumbling from his chest when he feels just how slick and ready you are for him already. “You’re fuh-fuckin’ dripping.” He hisses out, giving no warning before sliding two fingers (the ones you had already sucked clean) into your leaking cunt. You gasp, your pussy fluttering around the digits at the sudden intrusion - hands flying up to grip at the bloodied fabric of his hoodie.

He’s far from gentle, just like how he warned you he’d be, but at least he was stretching you out a little bit. Pumping his fingers into you, curling them in the way he knows you like. Scissoring them wide, impatiently getting you ready to take him all.

And with how you had already gotten yourself so close, it’s a piece of cake for him to finish the job. You let out a whine, eyes screwing shut as the pads of his fingers rub against your gspot, taking you higher and higher until-

“Toby-“ You moan, your head dropping low to rest against his shoulder, the drying blood feeling cold as it smears against your face. You can feel the knot in your gut tying tighter, and when his thumb comes up to play with your already swollen clit - you know you’re done for. “I can’t- I’m gonna-“

“Y-You gonna cum for me?” He rasps out, just doubling his efforts as your lips part in pleasure. His gaze drops down, catching on the way his thumb smears blood against your folds, and his abandoned cock jumps at the sight. “Wunderschön.” He’s breathless when he speaks, even more so when you start to shake in his hold.

Your hips twitch, thighs tremble, and then you’re melting against him as you cum - pressing your face into his neck as a wave of pleasure washes over you from head to toe. It’s so intense that stars dance behind your eyelids, your breath catching in your throat as you choke out a moan against his skin. “T-That’s it.” Toby murmurs. “Schönes Mädchen.”

He pulls his fingers from you, leaving you whimpering at the loss - but it’s not for long. He grabs you by the waist, tugging you close until you’re positioned right over his leaking cock. “Y-You’re so p-perfect for me.” He murmurs as he reaches down to take hold of himself, swiping the tip through your slick and getting it nice and wet. “Ich liebe dich.”

You know that one too. “I love you more.” You breathe back to him, and then your brows are pinching together as he slowly lowers you down onto him. Even with the small amount of prep he’s given you, it’s still a stretch, making your breathing stutter as you sink down inch by inch - swallowing him up with your sopping wet pussy.

“S-So tight.” He hisses out, grip like a vice on your hips as you take everything he gives you. “F-Fuck, you’re a d-dream.”

You squirm a little once you’re fully seated, your thighs meeting his. He’s pressed right up against your gspot, a constant pressure that sends sparks of pleasure up your spine. He’s so perfect, everything you could ever need and then some. You feel filled to the brim, your walls pulsing around him to the time of your heart beat, eyes glazed over as you raise your head from his neck to look at him.

He smiles. Bloody, crooked, and yet somehow so incredibly charming. Toby gives the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen him produce, as if he wasn’t six inches deep in your blood smeared body. “You look so g-good like this.” He hums, trailing his hands up your sides and bringing your shirt with it, before tugging it off of you completely. Braless, your nipples perk up once they’re exposed to the cold air, and it just makes his grin widen before he’s bringing his palms to your chest.

He kneads the soft flesh, leaving streaks and bloody fingerprints against them, and just like that - he thinks he’s fallen in love all over again. “My girl.” He murmurs as he rolls his hips up, pressing into you more. “My baby.”

Calloused palms slide down the expanse of your abdomen, then settling on your hips again and giving a squeeze. You were so soft. So soft, warm, and pretty. And your pussy - so wet and hot around him, your walls clinging to him like they’ve been molded to the shape of his cock. He could drown in you if you’d let him. “Lettin’ me g-get you all buh-bloody.” He drags against your sensitive core as he pulls you upwards, eyes locked on you face - watching each little change of your expression. “Gonna l-let me give you mo-more? I-Ich möchte dich s-schmecken.”

“More, Toby.” You whimper, voice trembling. Whatever he’s willing to give you, you want. Screaming, crying, breathless - you don’t care. You’ll give it all to him.

“D-Du bist reizend.” He breathes out, just seconds before dropping you onto his length. He fills you up again in such a swift movement it nearly knocks the wind out of you completely, but you don’t even have time to catch your breath. The pace he picks up is just as ruthless as the treatment he had given your throat.

Fast snaps of his hips, deep thrusts, fucking up into you like it’s his only mission in life. It feels like he’s punching the moans out of your lungs, hitting so deep on every stroke that it makes your vision blur around the edges. You can do nothing but take it, your cunt drooling all over him as he bounces you on his lap like a doll.

Toby, is absolutely captivated. You are everything right now. Better than his wildest dreams. The most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on. Mouth dropped open as you cry out and gasp for breath, skin glistening with sweat and streaks of scarlet. Tits bouncing with each thrust, skin rippling in the most enticing way.

He needs to sink his teeth in, and so he does.

With your eyes squeezed shut from pleasure, you don’t even get a warning before he leans forwards and bites down on your neck. Hard.

Immediately, the pain that blossoms from his teeth is something that has your eyes snapping open - momentarily sobering you up and clearing your mind. When he breaks skin, you scream.

A real, genuine, straight from the soul scream. It’s ripped from you, your cunt tightening around him as your whole body tenses up. The feeling of his blunt teeth biting so hard that they tear skin, is something you don’t think you’ll ever forget. It’s a searing pain. The kind that makes your mouth go dry as all the air leaves your lungs.

Instinctively, you reach your hands up to push at his shoulders to free yourself, but he doesn’t budge. If anything, he just bites down harder. Toby moans against you with a mouthful of flesh, snapping his hips up into you harder, his grip tight to keep you right where he wanted you. No amount of struggle or pushback was fazing him. He was so drunk on the taste of you, and the sound of your screams, that every protest was falling on deaf ears.

His jaw finally relaxes, and then he’s pulling away - slowly pulling his teeth from the stark puncture wound now standing out against your previously unmarred neck. He watches as the blood pools in the deepest parts of the wound, then beads up before it drips down - down, over your collarbone, across your chest, sliding down the slope of your breast. Fuck, this is so much better than his dreams.

“Toby-“ You cry as fresh tears well up in your eyes - salty and hot, just like the blood staining Toby’s tongue. Your neck was throbbing, and with how he just kept impaling you on his dick over and over despite your cries, you were beginning to feel a little dizzy. It was a lot for your body to handle, maybe too much. But you’d be damned if you backed down now.

Toby looked feral. You catch his gaze and you swear your heart stops. You’ve seen him in the heat of the moment more times than you could count, but never like this. He looked… Deranged. Absolutely intoxicated by you, and fully sinking into that fact. His pupils were blown wide behind drooping lids, lips smeared with your blood as they stretch into a satisfied smile.

“D-Du schmeckst so s-süß.” His right hand slides downwards, meeting your clit once again with ease. Giving you a few, soothing circles. “I-Ich könnte dich l-lebendig essen.”

Toby seats you back on his dick fully, and then your worldview flips. It’s only once your back hits the couch cushions, that you realize he’s picked you up and pinned you down. “Y-You know how puh-pretty you sound when you scream?” He asks as he shimmies off his jeans fully, staying pressed as deep as possible the entire time. “And those t-tears.. Fuck, y-you’re gorgeous.”

He nuzzles against your neck as he gets comfortable between your legs again, putting a pressure against the bite mark that made you wince. It had just started to settle down from a blinding pain to a dull throb, but it feels like he’s reignited it all over again. “Ich glaube, ich ha-habe vorhin gelogen.” With one hand on your stomach and one on your waist, he’s got your trapped beneath him. “Ich möchte d-dich wirklich b-brechen.”

You feel a tongue against your neck as he begins to rock his hips once more. Gentler this time, finally giving your body a chance to relax. Toby laps up the blood from your neck as he fucks you with slow, shallow strokes, muffling his moans against your skin. Your body arches up into him, your chest meeting his, and you’re gasping right next to his ear. It’s the strangest feeling, having his tongue dip into the pits of the wound he had just made, but the sharp sting is almost welcome. It just feels so… Comforting. Intimate.

Like you’ve never been closer.

Toby pulls his head back, fluffy strands of hair falling against his forehead as he watches you from above. You look like a damn work of art, a sight that makes his breath catch. His gaze travels down to focus on the image of your pretty pussy swallowing him up over and over. Stretching around him. Leaving him glistening with slick everytime he pulled out. Then, his eyes lift, and he’s focusing on the blood smearing your stomach and chest. Higher, his eyes trace the shape of the mark he left on you. Finally, they stop at your face - contorted in pleasure and streaked with tears. “Y-You’re so b-beautiful.” He gasps out, nails sinking into your skin as he starts pulling your body back to meet his thrusts.

Your body shifts and slides against the couch cushions, already damp with sweat and blood. He’s got you taking his whole length again, making sure to bury himself to the hilt on every single stroke - his pelvis bumping against your clit. “I love you.” He moans softly to the melody of his skin hitting yours. His voice is so sweet and gentle, just like in the morning. A reminder that he was still the exact same man.

“I-I love you, Toby.” You choke out, just barely getting the words out between gasps and moans. You were nearing another peak. Could feel it brewing and growing hotter with each snap of Toby’s hips. His hands slip down and around to your ass, large palms splaying against each cheek and keeping you nice and spread open while he gets lost in your heat.

You just barely see it through your hazy vision as he leans down once more, but you notice his lips parting. At least this time, you’re getting a bit of a heads-up.

His teeth meet your skin again, this time your shoulder, and he bites down so quick it takes a moment for the pain to even register. But once it does, it’s even worse than the last one. Again, you yelp, crying and squirming beneath him hopelessly as he sinks his canines deeper into your flesh. Right into the muscle, it feels like, when his jaw locks into you harder.

It’s excruciating. A blinding pain that makes your head feel fuzzy. What you were feeling right now, with Toby latched onto your shoulder while he pounded into you, was something you couldn’t quite understand. Did you hate this, or love it? Did you want to push him away, or draw him in closer? Was it pain or pleasure?

The answer to each question, was a resounding ‘I don’t know’.

Your body seemed to decide before your mind did though, because you find yourself reaching up for him with a trembling hand. Into his hair your fingers thread - not tugging or pulling, just cupping the back of his head. Holding him there as he tears at your flesh. You think you would do the exact same thing even if he started pulling meat from bone.

You feel like you’re melding into him, becoming one as the warmth of your blood drips down into his throat. The pain started to do something funny as he released your shoulder before biting down again just a few inches below. It wasn’t distracting from the pleasure anymore, it was heightening it. Two opposites swirling together to form something new and exhilarating.

Toby notices the moment it happens, feeling how you relaxed so sweetly into his brutal hold. His nails bite into your hips, surely leaving scratches and bruises behind - just a few more marks to add to the collection he’s already given you.

“P-Perfect.” He breathes once he pulls back again, mouth smeared with blood and his teeth stained with it. Toby looked like a rabid beast in your eyes, and you were his willing victim. He wasn’t all violence and ferocity though, you could tell as you looked into his eyes through your blurry vision. His gaze was teeming with nothing but love. A tad obsessive, a little warped, but love nonetheless.

It makes your heart swell. “Y-You’re everything t-to me, you know that?” He tells you softly, rolling his hips deeper as he feels your walls start to flutter around him. Your blood drips down his jaw, glinting in the low light of the living room. You don’t think he’s ever looked more handsome.

Without a thought in your mind, you pull him in with the hand you still have placed on the back of his head - pressing your lips to his in a messy kiss. You can taste your own blood, even more so when he slips his tongue past your parted lips with a groan. It’s sloppy and crude, blood and drool smearing against both of your faces as you drink each other in. “Wenn ich ein b-besserer Mann wäre, würde ich d-dich heiraten.” He gasps against you after pulling away minutely, such filthy noises spilling from his lips and falling straight into yours. “Du verdienst alles.”

Your fingers fist into his hair, now gripping hard enough that you know it would hurt him if he could feel it. But he couldn’t, so you just tug harder as his length slides against your convulsing core.

“Toby-“ You cry in an attempt to warn him of your impending release, but he doesn’t even need you to.

“I-I know, baby. I know.” Toby groans, then leaning in just a little closer again to catch your bottom lip between his teeth. You’re expecting it now before he even spilts it with his canines. You can’t even taste it when blood gushes into your mouth, your tastebuds already completely coated in that metallic tang. “G-Give it to me.” He rasps out once he tears his teeth from the supple flesh.

And you do, you give him everything. One hand pulling his hair until his scalp went raw, and the other one clawing at his bicep - you tumble over the edge for the second time in a flurry of gasps and moans. Your legs lock around his hips, squeezing him tight as your cunt just squeezes harder - pulsing around him, sucking him in like you never wanted to let him go.

You didn’t. You could die like this and be a happy woman. “A-Ah, fuck.” Toby groans out, head dropping low as he fucks into you with even more vigour. Chasing his own release while prolonging yours. With stars in your eyes and ears ringing, your body trembles beneath him as his hips begin to stutter.

And you suppose you should’ve predicted what he did next. Right as you feel him start to throb inside you, he reaches for your hand and yanks it from where it had been gripping his shoulder. Toby seizes your wrist, letting out a gravelly moan just before he presses his lips to your forearm.

Teeth break skin again right as you feel him spill inside you. Hot ropes of his release, pulled in deep by your still convulsing body. Even hotter waves of painful pleasure washing over you like he had cast a spell.

His thrusts go lazy, still pumping into you as his spend gushes out around his softening cock - just adding to the mess you’re already coated in. He pulls out of your body first, then tugs his teeth from your arm second.

When he looks back to you, you feel your joints go gooey. His eyes are so warm and satisfied as he parts his lips, holding your gaze as his tongue darts out to lick at your newest wound. It’s comforting in the strangest way, and it’s the sickest form of sweetness when he’s pressing kisses to it just moments later.

He does that for every single one. Peppering kisses against each tooth shaped indentation, lapping at the blood until you’re left (relatively) clean. Raw, red puncture wounds that had already begun to swell, but each kiss makes the throbbing dull.

“S-Sorry.” He murmurs softly, lips brushing against your sensitive skin. “Y-You don’t even ha-have to say it. I know I-I went too far.”

Your body feels like it’s been drained of all of its energy, weak and sore all over, but you still force yourself to shake your head. Your arms feel like they’re made of lead when you lift them, pain rippling from your neck downwards - but you wrap them around him anyway.

“No you didn’t.” You whisper back, with a throat so raw that your voice comes out hoarse. “I’m alright.”

Toby relaxes a little at your gentle reassurance, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and letting out a shaky sigh.

“Y-You sure?” He asks, just to be certain. You were still trembling, muscles sore and stiff as you held him close. “I-If you hate me now, I wouldn’t buh-blame you.”

You let out a short breath through your nose and shake your head again.

“I could never hate you.”

—————————————————————————☆

the toby brainworms were eating me alive so I started writing this and then just kept writing and writing and ended up with 10k words of pure filth

if my invite request ever gets accepted on ao3 I’ll post it there too but for now this is a tumblr exclusive lols

thanks for reading! ♡

#toby rogers x reader #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x female reader #creepypasta x you #ticci toby smut #toby rogers smut #creepypasta #ticci toby #toby rogers #creepypasta headcanon

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avaredava · 2 days ago

Note

I think we can all agree Satoru is so nice usually. But I think I NEED mean Satoru. He absolutely makes fun of you when you inevitably can't take all the dick he gives you, especially if you're folded up into like, mating press. Just calling you dirty names.

I'm fucking drooling holy lord

IM TWEAKING THAT IS SO YUMMY ISTG

I fucking love your ideas ilysm 😩 btw this one is kinda short i'm still sick but if you want a longer version just ask i'll make one ( ˘ ³˘)♥

୨୧・・・・୨୧

MDNI

Master list's

⯌ Sum

Mean Satoru Gojo (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

⯌ Wc

0.7k

it's really short but it's all mostly smut

⯌Warnings

Mean!Satoru, Fem!reader, Degradation, Humiliation. Overestimation, Edging, Bondage, Restraints, Impact Play (pussy spanking), Cervix bruising, bruising, brief mention of rope burn, Degradation & Humiliation, some aftercare, kinda kinky, breast playing, mating presses, eagle spread, vibrator that suctions, clit stim

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Satoru Gojo is one of the kindest and sweetest boyfriends you ever had. He would buy you everything you want and kiss you so gently it feels like an angel's kiss. One thing no one has ever expected was him to be so cruel when you both are having sex.

All your friends talked and gossiped about how "He'd just give you vanilla sex nothing that feels good.", "Orgasmless sex.", and "He's tall but probably a small dick." They chuckled and giggled about there own comments.

Little did you know when you joked about what they said about Satoru to him. He decided to prove them absolutely wrong.

"Toru! Fuck!" You whine as he slams his big cock inside you in the tightest mating press. His hips snapping wildly like he was so fucking desperate to make you and him cum he was about to cry from over stimulation but he doesn't fucking care.

You tried to move away from overstimulation since he's been edging you but his hips snapping and his hands gripping your shoulders making sure you can't move away.

All you can do is holler and squeal and beg for mercy. Obviously he doesn't. He pulled out for a second and you thought it was over so you let out a sigh of relief before you heard a buzz. Your eyes shot open and you squirm. He ties your wrists and legs bound to the bed post in a eagle spread.

Your nipples perked in the air with arousal your stomach moves up and down with harsh breaths. You let out a shaky breath as he puts the pink vibrator on your clit. It suctions with a click of a button and you yelp as the buzzing gets stronger and more stimulating.

"Your such a fucking slut. Talking about me with your friends, agreeing about these insults. One of those insults maybe being... orgasm-less sex hmm..?" He snarls at you raises the vibrations a notch.

"S-Satoru please I was joking!" You begged and hollered. You know there's no point. He's too pissed off to stop. "I don't fucking care Y/N. You're getting what you said I give you- or what i don't give you. Being a bad girl means no orgasms."

He shoves his fingers inside your pussy pushing against your sweet spot and you were on the brink before he takes the vibrator off while it was still suctioning so it caused a little sting and you whined.

He unties your legs but not your arms so you can't leave or stop him. Your legs shut close fast. "I swear to god Y/N stop closing your fucking legs. I undid them to put you in another position you slut. So keep your legs open." He snarls meanly at you but for some reason it got you more wet.

He put you into a mating press again, his dick hitting parts of you only he can hit. You holler and moan sweet music for his ears. He crushingly hits your cervix. It hurts so good you're at the brink of screaming. His hips snapped at this point both of your hips are bruised.

He grabs your tits aggressively. Tweaking your nipples. Your voice was hoarse from your screams so your moans were more quiet as fat tears dropped down your face. "Fucking slut."

He slapped your pussy, hard. He kept smacking as his thrusts got more bruising. Your cervix is at the point of bleeding. You do have a safe word but fuck it feels too good to stop.

"Y-Your so b-big 'Toru." You whine your eyes squeezed shut. "You can't take it? I thought you were my personal whore hm? My little slut can't even take my own dick." he grins meanly with an evil grin. He decides to take some mercy on you but with a price.

"I'll let you cum if you are a good girl and be quiet no moaning? Hm? Show how obedient you are?" He says wanting power over you. You nod frantically wanting him so bad you don't care what he says anymore.

His hips snap faster and you finally cum on his cock holding in your screams letting out cute noises as his hips don't stop moving crazy fast. He moves a hand down rubbing your clit prolonging your pain of trying to be quiet but the pleasure unknotting from your stomach your pussy feeling good with thrusts and rubs. It's so worth it.

He finally pulls out and unties your wrists kissing the rope burn marks gingerly pulling you close.

"Still gonna joke and make fun of me?"

Maybe you will, maybe just maybe, you want that all again.

୨୧・・・・୨୧

Sorry ya'll it's kinda short 😖

#jjk x reader #jjk drabble #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo smut #satoru gojo #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x you #jjk x reader smut

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thoughtfulfiction · 1 day ago

Text

While We’re Young

Author’s note: Anon requested, Hope you all enjoy!

“Wait,” you said, your voice breaking the comfortable silence in the car. You twisted one of your hoodie strings around your finger, tightening your grip on it and staring at Justin as if the realization had just crashed into you. “What if they don’t like me?”

Justin glanced over, his brows furrowing before his expression softened. His hand found its place on your thigh, his thumb tracing a lazy pattern through the fabric of your leggings. You were convinced that his soothing touch could change lives. “They’re going to love you,” he said simply, as though it wasn’t even a question. “My mom’s already planning to interrogate you about your favorite foods so she can cook for you. That’s her love language.”

You wanted to believe him, but your mind was already racing. “I mean, what if they think I’m not good enough for you? Or—oh god—what if I say something stupid and embarrass myself? Bad first impressions are impossible to recover from, and if this doesn't go the way we hope…” You trailed off, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten.

At the next stoplight, Justin leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “First of all, you couldn’t embarrass yourself even if you tried. And second, I’ve seen you charm complete strangers. My family doesn’t stand a chance.”

Despite his confidence, your nerves didn’t fully settle. “Thanks, babe,” you murmured, managing a small smile. “But what am I supposed to do with the next thirteen hours? That’s so much time for me to go through worse case scenarios.”

“And to make me listen to your Sad Girl playlist,” Justin switched gears to remind you, his lips twitching into a grin.

“Oh, absolutely.” You laughed, connecting your phone to his car’s Bluetooth, taking a break from your negative self-talk. The opening chords of your favorite melancholic ballad filled the car as you leaned back in your seat.

Justin groaned dramatically but didn’t complain. Instead, he reached over to squeeze your hand, the warmth of his skin a quiet and comforting reassurance that you’d carry with you all the way to Eugene.

The fact that he was bringing you was a big deal already but to know that he’d only really done this a couple times made you feel special. Even if he didn’t really say it, he was falling for you just as much as you were falling for him.

Justin pulled you out of your thoughts when he asked, “are you hungry at all? Because I’m thinking about stopping somewhere. I’m starving.”

“Oh yeah, lunch sounds good. I think I saw a Wingstop sign towards this next exit but I can look it up.”

You opted to sit in the car and eat, giving him a long winded breakdown of what you wanted to do and see in Eugene.

“I want the works. Walk me down memory lane. And definitely take me to Nike. It honestly feels illegal not to go to a Nike store where it all started. I’m sure you’re looking to add to your endless collection anyway.” You note with a laugh. If Nike made suits, he'd definitely be first in line.

He gave you a pointed look. “It was an endless collection until I met and started dating a thief. Do you know how many of my sweatshirts I found in your closet this morning while helping you pack? I was looking for the purple one for weeks.”

You laughed so hard you nearly choked on your fries, swapping spots with him after lunch so he could take a break from driving. “Well I’m sorry! It’s not my fault your clothes are so big and they smell like you. Anytime you’re gone I just throw one on and it’s like you’re always with me.”

“Nice save…Catwoman.”

You scoff. “I prefer Robin Hood, actually. Take from the rich and give to the poor. You’re rich, so I take from you and...give to me. The poor.”

“That would work better if I didn’t get most of that stuff for free, but that is a pretty solid comparison.”

After about 8 hours of you being on aux, you decided to cut him so slack and let him take over on music as you continued to drive, mouthing the lyrics of the latest song that was playing from his phone, quickly getting lost in the rhythm.

He glanced over at you, chuckling softly, nodding his head along to the beat. “I didn’t know you were an 80s rock fan.”

“I didn’t either but you played this a few weeks ago while we were making dinner and I’ve been listening to it ever since. Hate to admit it but this is kind of a banger." You smirked, tilting your head toward him. "You know…I won’t tell anyone if you sing.”

Justin immediately starts shaking his head. “No shot. You’re not doing this to me.”

You turned up the music, singing loudly and deliberately off-key as he sighed deeply, his head dropping back against the headrest. But to your surprise, he joined in during the chorus. Both of you were screaming the lyrics to “Pour Some Sugar on Me” by Def Leppard, the car practically vibrating with your energy.

“What happens on the road trip stays on the road trip,” he said, holding out his pinky.

“Deal,” you laughed, locking your pinky with his before refocusing on the road.

A few hours later, Justin motioned for you to take the next exit. “Let’s hop out right here. I want to show you something,” he said cryptically.

The stop turned out to be a scenic lookout, the perfect place to watch the sunset with Mt. Shasta looming majestically in the distance. Justin laced his fingers with yours as the two of you walked toward the edge, stretching your legs after hours in the car.

“This is the most beautiful view I’ve ever seen,” you whispered, mesmerized by the golden and pink hues painting the sky.

Justin turned to you with a warm smile, his eyes full of something that made your stomach flutter. “Yeah… me too.”

You smacked his arm, keeping your gaze on the horizon. “Justin, focus. You’re not even looking at the scenery right now.”

“Sorry, I just got really distracted by the view in front of me. It’s kind of become my favorite.” He stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on the top of your head. His beard—something that came and went whenever he felt like it—tickled your temple, making you smile.

Turning around in his arms, you finally look up at him, the sight still stealing your breath even after all this time. His green eyes were softer in the glow of the setting sun, flickering between your eyes and lips as if he couldn’t decide where to focus.

“You’re my favorite view too,” you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Wouldn’t mind waking up to you for a while...the rest of my life even.”

The words hung in the air, fragile yet heavy with meaning. His brows lifted slightly, and for a moment, you worried you’d said too much. You hadn't even meant to say that last part out loud and you almost backtracked. But then, his lips curled into a small, hesitant smile, like he was processing the weight of your words.

“Really?” he asked, his voice low and steady. His hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek. “You—you see us doing this? Getting married, spending our lives together?”

The vulnerability in his tone made your heart ache in the best way. “Yeah, I do. Which is funny because I’ve never actually been with someone that I see a real future with.”

Justin didn’t respond immediately, but his actions spoke louder than any words ever could. His hands slid to frame your face fully, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones as if memorizing every detail. He leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted to—but you didn’t.

When his lips finally met yours, it was soft and deliberate, like he was pouring everything he felt but couldn’t say into that one kiss. It wasn’t hurried or frantic; it was the kind of kiss that made the world fade away until it was just the two of you.

His hand gently cradled your head, holding you in place as if he was afraid you might slip away. You gripped the front of his hoodie, pulling him closer, your heart racing as the kiss deepened. There was something so raw, so unspoken in the way his lips moved against yours—it wasn’t just passion; it was promise. Everything you saw, this bright beautiful future together? He saw it too.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting together. He let out a shaky laugh, his hands still cradling your face. “I’ve never actually been with someone that I see a real future with either,” he admitted, his voice hoarse but filled with a quiet certainty. “Until now.”

The kiss lingered for just a moment longer, both of you savoring the connection, the sound of your heartbeat matching the rhythm of your breath. When Justin finally pulled back, there was a brief moment of silence, a quiet understanding between you. He took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair, giving you a small smile before pulling away completely to open the door of the car.

“I think we’ve stalled long enough,” he said, his voice a bit rougher than usual but still carrying that calm confidence you admired. “Let’s get this over with.”

You both shared a laugh, though it felt a bit nervous on your part as the reality of the day hit. You had no idea what to expect, but you knew this was a big moment for Justin—and for you.

Justin took the keys from your hand, giving you one last reassuring squeeze before getting in the driver's seat. You took a deep breath, trying to shake off the jittery nerves you hadn’t even realized you were holding onto.

The final leg of the drive felt like it stretched on forever, even though only a few hours had passed since you were on the mountain. There was something different in the air now. The soft, quiet hum of the road felt more like a countdown to something important.

Every few minutes, Justin would glance over at you, a soft smile curling at his lips as if trying to reassure himself just as much as you. His hand eventually found itself encasing yours, his thumb making lazy circles over your skin. He wasn’t saying much, but his presence, calm and unwavering, was more than enough.

When the exit for Eugene finally appeared, you felt your pulse quicken. This was it. This was the moment.

“Here we go,” Justin murmured, his voice somehow more steady than his movements, as he guided the car off the highway and toward the familiar road leading to his childhood home.

The transition felt sudden, but not uncomfortable. It was a quiet moment of realization that everything you’d shared so far had been leading to this point. He was letting you in. You were meeting the people who mattered most to him, the ones who had shaped him into the man he was today.

As you approached the house, you could see the familiar outline of the porch, a few trees swaying in the breeze, and a small garage you guessed held memories of Justin’s childhood. The house was modest, but there was a sense of warmth and familiarity that seemed to radiate from the front door, even from the car.

Justin slowed as he approached, his hand reaching over to squeeze yours one last time before he parked the car. He looked over at you, eyes soft but serious, like he was searching for your reassurance.

“You ready?” he asked quietly, his voice laced with both excitement and nerves.

You nodded, squeezing his hand back. “Yeah. Ready.”

And with that, the two of you got out of the car and walked toward the front door of his family’s home, the journey that had brought you here feeling like both an ending and a beginning.

The door swung open before you even knocked, and there stood his mom, her arms outstretched.

She was gorgeous, her dark hair a stark contrast to Justin's much lighter features. But she wasn't interested in him at all, making a beeline for you straight away. “Oh, you’re even more beautiful than he said! I’m Holly—come in, come in!"

You barely had time to process her words before you were enveloped in a warm hug, her energy immediately putting you at ease. Over her shoulder, you spot Justin’s dad, Mark, standing on the porch with a reserved smile, and Justin’s brothers are leaning against the doorway, smirking. Justin laughed softly behind you, side stepping you and his mom. "Alright, let her breathe please? It'd be helpful if she made it through this entire night without suffocating," he jokes as his mom pulls away, rolling her eyes as she gives him a hug.

A younger guy who looks almost exactly like a mustached version of your boyfriend greets you next. "Hi, I'm Patrick. Glad Mitch wasn't lying and you are a real person, but pro tip? You're way out of this dork's league," he says with a serious face, nodding his head towards his older brother.

Justin glares at him and doesn't respond, muttering something under his breath that only Patrick catches as he bursts into a fit of laughter. You give Mitch a hug—the familiar face of Justin's older brother a welcome sight. He was a first-year orthopedic surgery resident at UCLA, the perfect situation for him and Justin to live together again. You'd been able to meet him on several occasions which proved useful in easing your nerves about meeting everyone else. “How was the drive? Are you guys staying at the ranch tonight?”

“We are,” you replied with a smile. “I’m really excited to finally see this infamous place.”

Justin’s dad steps forward, his handshake firm but warm, his eyes studying you with quiet curiosity before his face softens into a welcoming smile. “Don’t let these two scare you off. We’re happy to finally meet you. Let's head inside, I think Holly already has the baby pictures set out and ready for you to go through," he smiles, patting Justin on the back as his son shakes his head.

"You're lucky your dad talked me out of making a PowerPoint Presentation because we were seconds away from watching a pre dinner slideshow." Holly says to him with a small smile as everyone steps inside.

Patrick's voice cuts through everyone's laughter, "she's not even kidding, it was about to have music included and everything but dad saved you. I was about to give her some of the best material." He looks over at you, overenunciating for emphasis. "Two words: bowl. Cut."

"See what I have to deal with?" Justin whispers, gently pulling you into his side. Mark and Holly exchange knowing looks but don't say anything.

The house smelled of cinnamon and fresh bread, like warmth itself had settled into the walls. Framed pictures lined the hallways—some faded with time, others vibrant and new—each capturing a story of childhood adventures and hard-won victories. The fireplace crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the cozy living room. This wasn’t just a house; it was a sanctuary, a place where love was stitched into the very fabric of its foundation.

On the table in the living room is a stack of photo albums from when Justin was a newborn all the way up until his senior year of college. Countless memories were shared in these frames, a clearly busy but joyful childhood filled with love, laughter and lots of sporting events of all kinds. You could see that this family valued quality time with each other and the home you were in radiated warmth and love.

You ran your fingers lightly over the plastic covering of one album, tracing the faded marker label: Justin – Year 3. Inside, a chubby-cheeked toddler grinned back at you, his tiny facial features stretched in a mischievous but slightly forced smile.

“He never changed,” Patrick teased. “Still hates cameras.”

His words made you laugh a little because it was true, but you also saw something deeper. A boy who had grown up in a home where love wasn’t measured in trophies or contracts but in moments. The same boy who had fought to protect his private life in the face of stadium lights and national attention. You understood now—it wasn’t about secrecy. It was about keeping his people, the most important part of him, safe.

Your gaze flickered to Justin, his fingers tapping against his thigh—a telltale sign of deep thought. He wasn’t just reminiscing. He was remembering what it felt like to carry all of this, to be seen as something larger than life before he even had a chance to grow into it. And yet, here, he wasn’t the NFL quarterback. He was just...Justin.

"He was the starter by the end of that season, kind of became the hometown hero from then," Mitch sighs, sifting through some of the photos. "Things kind of got chaotic after that, with comparisons and people talking on social media."

"It was annoying," Justin cuts in, "deleted my Instagram after that. Only got it back around the draft for endorsement purposes." His words are dry, like it was painful or embarrassing thinking back to that time.

You had always respected, even admired, Justin’s need for privacy. But sitting here, surrounded by the people who had shaped him, you understood where it all came from: it wasn’t just about keeping the world out—it was about keeping his world safe. The weight of expectations, the relentless scrutiny, the unspoken pressure to be perfect—it had started young. He hadn’t chosen to be private. He had been forced to learn how to protect the things that mattered most.

And that’s what this house and his family was.

His one refuge from a world that always wanted more.

"Alright," Holly says, breaking you out of your epiphany, "who's ready to eat?"

This was a family you could definitely see yourself being a part of. Justin seemed so much more relaxed and at ease here which was a stark contrast to what you'd seen from him recently. His job was unforgiving, unrelenting. And the fans? You thanked your lucky stars daily for the fact that Justin wasn't on Twitter, especially after the Houston loss. This is where he belonged, these were his people. They didn't care about the stats or the money or everything that came with it and that's exactly how he wanted to be treated. He had a home in these people. He'd only found that comfort and peace one other time since he left Eugene.

And that was when he met you.

Dinner went on seamlessly, Mark joking asked if you two had a wedding date set after watching his son not-so-subtly check in on you throughout your stay. There were inside jokes, little moments of laughter from your relationship with Justin like how you had to adjust to his crazy hours in the facility from Monday-Wednesday but Thursdays were the days that really mattered, it was just the two of you. And sometimes Mitch and Isabella. But those were the days that brought you even closer, those little moments, just like this one that brought you so much joy it felt like you'd explode. There was easy laughter, Patrick telling some story about Justin being so private and how much he likes to keep to himself that he never thought he'd see this day. You spoke up and reassured him that you think you've successfully peeled back some layers and found your best friend in the process. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Mitch giving Patrick a nudge. Even Mark cracked a little smile, but all you could focus on was Justin's subtle smile that spoke volumes, in his own unique way. After everyone was finished with their meal, you found yourself in the kitchen with Holly, helping her plate dessert while the guys debated football in the other room.

“He’s different with you, you know.” She nodded, wiping her hands on a dish towel before leaning against the counter.

Your hands froze mid-reach. A small knot of nerves twisted in your stomach. “Different good or…?”

She smiled, her eyes soft with something unreadable. “Good. Really good.” There was a wistfulness in her expression, something unspoken lingering in the air. “You remind me of someone.”

You tilted your head, curiosity sparking. “Oh?”

“His grandma. My mom,” she said, voice quieter now, like the weight of memory had settled over her. “She was the only one who could ever get my dad to slow down. He was always moving—always thinking about the next challenge, the next goal. But with her, it was…different. She had this way of pulling him back to the present, reminding him that love isn’t measured in achievements. That life isn’t just about what you do—it’s about who you share it with.”

Her eyes met yours then, her meaning unmistakable. “Seeing you and Justin felt very similar to seeing them together again. It’s really nice to see him be with someone who helps him to reel it in a little.”

Your heart clenched, warmth blooming in your chest. You swallowed past the lump in your throat, forcing out a small laugh. “Well, he’s still a workaholic, so I might not be that good at it.”

Holly chuckled. “That’s just who he is. But I see the way he looks at you. The way he’s always checking in. You’re his home. His safe space.” She paused, and added softly, “And that’s all a mother could ever want for her son.”

You blinked back the unexpected sting of tears and watched as Holly swiped at her eyes. Before you could really process what you were doing, you were hugging her again. All the nerves and tension from earlier have completely vanished. Justin might not say much, but his actions had always spoken volumes. And now, hearing it from his mom—knowing that she saw it too—meant more than you could put into words.

The two of you walked back in with trays holding little bowls filled with apple crisp and a scoop of vanilla ice cream on top with caramel drizzle.

As Justin watched you, something settled in his chest—a feeling he hadn’t even known he was searching for. His mom was smiling at you in that way she only did when she had already decided someone was family. His dad—usually quiet, reserved—nodded along to your words like he genuinely enjoyed the conversation. His brothers, relentless as ever, had already started pulling you into their teasing.

And there you were. Sitting beside him, laughing like you belonged here. Because you did.

An hour later, after lingering goodbyes and a few last jokes, you walked side by side to his car. As Justin slid into the driver’s seat, he exhaled slow and deep. A weight he hadn’t even realized he was carrying finally lifted. Maybe it was the fear of his two worlds colliding. Maybe it was the quiet, unspoken worry that you wouldn’t fit into this part of his life.

But you did. Seamlessly. Effortlessly. Like you were always meant to.

“Well,” you said, patting his thigh with a teasing grin, “that went great. Can’t believe you were so freaked out.”

He turned to you, feigning offense before shaking his head with a laugh. The sound of it filled the car, warm and easy. You joined in, your laughter melting into his as he reached for your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

This. This is what home should feel like.

Justin leaned over, pressing a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering for just a second longer than necessary. “Told you they’d love you,” he murmured.

But as he pulled back, hand still wrapped around yours, the thought hit him like a slow-burning realization.

I think I might love you too.

#justin herbert #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x reader #justin herbert fic

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ohgodthevoices · 1 day ago

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going crazy over how husband material osamu is, hear me ouuutttt

tags : fluff, time-skip, f!reader, tattoo , he listens to, he cares , and he cook , i’m thirsting m sorry

osamu would be the type of bestfriend that knows damn well you want him bad but keeps on teasing you and acting clueless just to see how far you can go before you crack

as childhood friends, it was normal for you to be touchy and generally comfortable with each other but it raised his suspicions when you now looked away when he was topless around you. it’s not like you were uncomfortable with it ?

you’ve basically lived your whole life with the miyas, you’ve seen osamu wet the bed as a kid, get rejected by his middle school crush you’ve even witnessed him putting his hand in his pants and scratch his butt, seeing him topless in the comfort of his apartment was a casual thing so why the hell would you look away , did he lose his shape ? no, he still worked out frequently even if he’s not an athlete anymore…

either way osamu always took care for you, he was always so careful when it comes to you , sure he’d playfully hit you here and there but it was nothing you couldn’t handle

just imagine him cooking you a nice heart-warming meal, glancing at you every now and then while you’re sitting on the counter looking like a mess after a long exhausting day , wine glass in hand and rambling your worries away. it really became a ritual for you to swing by his place unannounced after a bad day.

he’d open the door with his signature lazy smile “ya had a bad day?” you finally let you shoulders relax “long story..” he steps back, inviting you in “i got time”.

sometimes osamu gets this weird feeling he can’t explain when he realizes he’s seen you grow into a real woman, it really freaked him tf out when you told him you had your first time with some boy he never heard the name of.

he scolds you after a bad decision for sure , but he’s always there to comfort you right after. SO imagine his surprise when during a drunken confession after you finally listened to him and dumped your toxic bf, you admit to him between sobs that broke his heart into pieces

“why can’t i find a guy that actually likes me—?” your face was buried in his now wet tshirt , his strong arms holding you tight as if they were gonna protect you from feeling hurt, your words were muffled, melting together “why can’t i find someone like you samu…im so jealous of the girl that’s gonna be yours” holy fucking shit how was he so blind to never realize this…

thank god that night was complete blurry in your mind , so when you woke up the day completely hung over and found your beloved best friend making you breakfast with a bed hair and his sleeves rolled up showing off his forearms that you find really hot for some reason , your slight blush was explained.

omfg the day he showed up to your workplace during his break with a well crafted lunch box he made full of delicious onigiris because he listens and he remembers that your annoying coworker kept flaunting her relationship to you and it pissed you off and you wanted to show her that you can pull too

ever since he realized the power he had over you, he wouldn’t stop just picking at you and seeing how far he can go, he was basically testing the waters by stretching until his shirt lifts up, hold eye contact for a lil longer than what he should, and how he praises you don’t get me startedddd

“yer actually pretty decent at this” when you cook dinner with him, “look at ya bein all confident and independent !” when you actually tell the waiter they got your order wrong, “yer pretty distractin’ yk that? that’s kinda dangerous.”

osamu was a pretty touchy guy, not overly cuddly or anything but he did enjoy proximity, he’d usually hold your wrist when passing crowds but for some reason he now held your waist, his touch gentle yet firm on you. istg his hand placement is impeccable

there’s just something about him keeping a hair tie on his wrist for you that’s so endearing, so caring and attentive to your lil daily struggles.

it all happened when you got your first tattoo, he had sent you to his friend whom he deemed good enough to ink your body. he was nervous and excited as if he was the one getting tattooed but that’s mostly because you wanted to keep it a mystery, he knew that when he came home after closing the shop he’d find you there already.

there was just something so intimate about him coming back from work and finding you already at his place , he liked it, he could get use to it.

“ ‘m here !” he yelled out closing the door behind him , analyzing you from head to toe as you pop infront of him with his tshirt and shorts on displaying an almost mischievous smile, his eyebrows creasing as he doesn’t see any trace of a tattoo on your arms or legs, maybe it was on your shoulders?

he plopped down on his couch , man spreading “soo… are ya gonna show me or ?” you happily turn to the side, his eyes widen as you lift up the shirt enough to reveal a sideboob tattoo. he sits up the shock visible on his face “holy shit cmere” you obey him , getting closer for him to get a better look. with a swift motion his arm was now around your hip , pushing you to sit on one of his legs

he clearly recognized his friend’s intricate style, the design cupping the side of your boob, he wanted to admire his work but damn he felt a lil jealous that he worked so close to you. he finally looked at you only now noticing your reddish face

his face was just inches from yours, his previously shocked expression fading as he met your eyes. he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your jaw, and for a split second, everything around you felt quiet, just the two of you in that small space. he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, though, breaking the tension as he nudged you lightly

“didn’t know you had it in ya to do somethin’ like that” he whispered.

before you could answer, his hand found its way to the back of your neck, gently pulling you in. his lips brushed yours, just a soft, teasing touch, before pulling back slightly with that same smirk. “couldn’t resist,” he muttered under his breath, and this time, when he kissed you again, it was longer, deeper—no more teasing, just the feeling of the moment taking over.

i’m currently such a sucker for time skip osamu he’s all i’m thinking about

#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fanfiction #osamu headcanons #osamu miya #osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu osamu #osamu fluff

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thatguyjam · 2 days ago

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Hab!Oscar Piastri headcannons

Because of how fucking hot he looks in this picture. God I'm gay.

Gender Neutral reader, no sport specified but not f1

I'm gonna use the word game but not go into too many details, so meets, matches, races and other formats also fit :)

Like he will finish a race and be on route to you as soon as humanly possible

He always tries to make as many games as possible

He probably has easier access to a private jet than you, so he doesn't want you to worry about making his races, he'd rather go to you

He almost doesn't want to win just so he'll be able to see you sooner

Whenever you win or score well, he is instantly as close to you as possible to give you just so many kisses

During games he watches you very closely, and gets very invested

He will get upset at judges or refs for calls that don't favor you

And again after you finish changing or showering he will be there to hug you

Like he'll appear out of nowhere just because you looked so hot during the game and he needs to tell you

No matter if you won or if you loss he'll always make sure you eat a big dinner and he'll draw a nice bath for you with nice bath salts and all

And then it is cuddles galore in bed <3

He understands that you are also very busy, and probably can't make very many races, especially if you are playing in Europe during his home race or something

But whenever you can make it, of if you tell him that you can't, and surprise him, he will just be so happy

He will not leave your side until he has to race

If you guys are in the same area but your game and his race overlap he will always make sure you stay in the same hotel

Nothing makes him race better than knowing he gets to see you afterward

The faster he goes, the faster the race ends, and the faster the race ends, the faster he gets to see you!

SURPRISE!!!

Wag²!Lily Zneimer x Reader x Oscar Piastri (except we're not really talking about him anymore)

Lily knows she's more likely to be at a F1 race because she's an engineer, so she tries extra hard to make it to your games

She does team up with Oscar to go to you games too, especially if you play a winter sport

Basically the Tennis matches they went to earlier this year but just so much more common

If you have a bad loss, even if she's busy she will drop as much as she can to be there either in person of over call for you, both to comfort you and to make sure you take care of yourself

She either finds or makes cute merch of your team/country for her to wear day to day

I feel like Hattie would be good at sewing for some reason

(Oscar gets pouty about it but she just reminds him that he races for a team with a terrible color scheme)

pApAyA

She is fully willing to come out so that she can openly support both of you as your girlfriend

She makes sure to do as much as she can to make sure you don't think she has a favorite though <3

Taglist: (Comment or DM to be added)

@koalapastries @justaf1girl

#f1 x reader #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #lily zneimer x oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #lily zneimer #lily zneimer x reader #f1 headcanons #gn reader

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kittynugg · 2 days ago

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hi i wrote some stangst

forgst

words: 1,737

p.s: REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!! credit to my pal @empressofsamoyeds (soorry for the tag) for the idea! ALSO DO NOT TAG THIS AS SHIP CONTENT. THIS IS NOT FOR YOU IF YOU SHIP THEM.

Stan stepped out of the shower, shuddering as the cold air hit his skin. Like every other time he showered he was quick to towel himself off and get dressed in the first clothes he could get his hands on. So.. the clothes he’d been wearing for the past month, now? They smelled. He’d have to do something about that sooner or later.

The mirror was fogged up as he tied up his damp hair, but he could still see just enough of what he was doing to get it done.

He stared at his blurry reflection. When he reached to wipe the condensation off of the surface he hesitated, his expression somehow going more blank than that numbness he’d been used to for years. That was.. Funny. He kinda looked like Ford with his hair up like that and the mirror all foggy.

No, he really looked like him.

That familiar empty feeling washed over him as he looked into the mirror, his brain filling in the blanks made by the distorted surface. A pair of glasses. A coat. The haunted look of a guy who’d seen things that shouldn’t even be possible in his eyes.

It took him a while to tear his attention away, maybe a couple of minutes, but once he did he rubbed the sting out of his eyes and left the bathroom. His “walk” had become more of a trudge in the past few weeks. He did whatever that was down the hall. Something about almost seeing his face made his feet even heavier, made the decision to get up that morning even more regrettable.

But it also gave him this weird resolve to keep going.

Maybe if he didn’t kill himself he could actually see that face. Alive, safe, maybe even happy.

He kicked open the door to the office or study he was staying in, announcing in a sitcom-y voice, “honey, I’m home!” Then he put his hands on his hips with a distant grin. “Oh, wait! I don’t have a wife! Or a husband! I’m all alone and nobody fuckin’ loves me because the only person who ever did is god-knows-where!” An unhinged laugh bubbled up in his chest.

“..Anyway,” he flattened after finishing his manic display, then collapsed face-first into the couch he’d been ‘sleeping’ on. Nice couch. Felt like the only thing in the world that actually supported him. “But it’s an inanimate object,” Ford would say, not getting the joke.

And then he’d say something like.. “You’re an inanimate object, nerd.” Then Ford would tell him that was wrong and that he wasn’t making any sense. Stan would just laugh at him.

Back in the real world, he shifted on the cushions to make himself comfortable. He knew just how bad the idea was. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get up. Right now, he just couldn’t force himself to care. Whenever he was up, he’d be up. Wasn’t like anything was waiting for him. Ford actually wasn’t on the other side of that portal, facing whatever it was that had him terrified enough to speak to him again.

Everything was fine. Great, even! So great that he didn’t want to think about it anymore. He heaved a muffled sigh into the couch, knowing that if he pulled his face away from it now it’d be stained with tears. Now he was fucking crying.

Pa would tell him to man up and do something about it. When he tried, his arms wouldn’t move to push him up and his legs only shifted into a more comfortable position. The couch was warm. The basement was so, so cold.

Get up.

He tried again. This time he was too lazy to move at all.

Repeating the command didn’t work. Get up.

Just get up. You need to get up so you can work on the portal so you can get Ford back so you won’t have a reason to cry anymore. Come on, this is the first step. The first step is always the hardest. Up up up. Please.

Instead of listening, his body just sighed again. Then he folded his arms under his forehead to put some space between his face and the couch and shut his eyes.

----

Eventually, he found himself blearily waking up with half of his body hanging on the couch and the rest on the floor. The very first thing that caught his eye was the light from the window glinting against Ford’s glasses, abandoned on the table where he could be reminded of why he was still kicking every time he woke up.

He peeled himself off the hardwood floor with a grunt and stood there for a moment as his shitty excuse for a brain sputtered and revved like his car when he tried to start it. He’d have to do something about that sooner or later.

…

Ford. Right.

A hesitant hand reached toward the glasses, and he turned them in his hand. The lenses were smudged. Ford never let his glasses get smudged. Always crystal clear or it was like he didn’t have them at all, they had to be perfect. He wondered if Ford still carried a spare on him. If he didn’t.. Shit, Stan couldn’t even imagine that. Not just being sucked into whatever nightmare he was so worried about but having to deal with it blind.

The thought of Ford, his brother, of all the people on this Earth (or.. outside of it), going through that made him sick. Maybe he should eat sometime today. Slice of toast might settle his stomach down for a bit.

He stared down at the spectacles in his hand and shook his head, then wiped them on his shirt. Lifting them up to the window shone enough light through the lenses for him to see that they were still smudged, just.. Spread around. His shirt was dirty.

Typical, he just made it worse. A look was cast around the room, nearly untouched in the month he’d been there. “Just fuckin’ poetic,” he whispered to himself if only to test if he even had it in him to talk. “It’s just like my life.” His eyes narrowed at the glasses. “..In a way.”

Barely resisting the urge to throw the damn thing, he set the glasses back on the table and looked toward the door. He should get to work.

He picked up the glasses again, leaving the room with the gait of someone wading in cement.

It was the same autopilot he’d been on for ages that led him back into the bathroom. When he slipped the glasses onto his face, his vision actually cleared a little. Maybe he should look into getting an eye test sometime.

He put up a finger and spoke in his best Ford impression, “I may be a little bookworm, but I know what I’m talking about!” The sheer accuracy of the voice made him chuckle. He sounded just like him!

When he found himself staring at his reflection again, his other hand reached for the shower. The knob creaked as he turned it to the highest temperature and he watched absently as the mirror fogged up again.

Hair was up. Glasses were on.

They really were twins..

His shoulders drooped, and after a few seconds of careful consideration he spoke up. “Hey, Poindexter.” No, that wasn’t right. Say his name. “..Ford.”

Another pause. Then he folded his arms behind his back and spoke in that impression again. “Stanley,” he greeted himself under his breath. Something about it, something about hearing Ford’s voice and– and almost seeing his face was..

It hurt.

But it felt good. The kind of hurt that he couldn’t help but reach for, like the burn of alcohol or a cigarette. Speaking of which, he was running out. He’d have to do something about that sooner or later. Not now. He was busy right now.

“I’m, uh..” his fingertips tapped together in a subconscious tic. “Still trying to get you back, Ford.” A smile spread across his face and he gestured behind him with his thumb. “I’ve been reading your textbooks, yanno, it’s actually startin’ to make sense. It’s not as fancy and sophisticated as you had it but it’s something to show for all the work I’ve been puttin’ in..”

Arms made their way behind his back again and he straightened his posture a little. “My idiot brother, learning physics..” A wistful sigh from “Ford”. “And it only took the worst tragedy of your life to finally kickstart it.” His expression softened, and he moved to place his hand on a shoulder that wasn’t there. His fingers twitched. “You know I’m proud of you, right? Not everyone would go through this much effort for.. Anyone, really.”

He needed to hear that. From the real Ford. This was good enough for now.

“I know, yeah.. I just– I hope you’re still out there. If you’re dead, or.. worse, I don’t know what I’d do with myself, Ford. I don’t know what I’d fucking do, and–” he took in a sharp breath, running a hand down the side of his face. His nails dug into the skin. “And I’m really scared to think about it.”

Silence.

His voice cracked when he spoke again. “..I’m scared, Ford.” The glasses over his eyes and the fog fading from the mirror left him with nothing. Nothing. A reminder of just how little he had. That was it.

And Ford offered no response.

Tears dirtied the lenses of the glasses even more, so he took them off and swiped at his eyes. He set them on the rim of the sink. This was stupid. All of this was stupid. Why was he still here? Why was he still holding on?

His legs wobbled underneath him and he just.. sat on the floor and gave in. With a shaky breath, he gave his tears a moment to fall and murmured into his knees, “because you’re my brother.”

It took him a few minutes. Maybe half an hour. But eventually, Stan pushed himself up and retrieved Ford’s glasses. He rinsed them in the sink to clean the dried tears off of them and only stopped when they were spotless. Crystal clear. The way Ford liked them.

Turning to leave, he muttered, “Love you, bro.”

“I love you too, Stanley. I’m sorry for everything.”

..He already forgave him.

(note: might be a part two with ford if im feeling brave)

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broareweabouttoviberightnow · 2 days ago

Note

i yearn for ponyboy angst after johnny and dally die and for once he needs darry and not soda...or more of the curtis bros grieving their parents/their friends/their childhoods together. just curtis bro angst all day every day. love ur stuff!

AGH!! TY LOVE!! this ask has been truly rottin' in my brain I thought about it durin' my ENTIRE shift today!! I hope you like it!! fic under the cut!!

also song >:D

"Pony?" Darry's sayin' my name in a way that implies he's been sayin' it a while. I blink at him 'n I don't know where I've been. My fingers are all wrapped up in my jeans, white-knuckled. I try to relax but my body doesn't listen to me one bit, so I forget it.

"I've been callin' you, where were you at?" He crosses the room 'n taps a finger gently to my temple, brushin' my bangs off my forehead.

I shrug 'n he worries at his lip. "Somewhere else, I guess." Darry looks stricken but that's how he always looks nowadays: worried.

"I gotta talk to you about your hair, Pony baby." I inhale sharply 'n Darry's face twists up a little more. He moves all slow, eases down onto the couch beside me 'n wraps an arm around my shoulders like I might fall to pieces.

"I'm not colorin' it I swear to God I'm not-" Steve had made a joke, some comment, maybe even just a suggestion, that I dye my hair back to its normal color. I don't think he meant anythin' bad by it. I dunno. I can see it more now. Darry's rough 'cause he's scared. Steve was mean when he meant to be kind. I think Dallas was like that. Rough 'cause he didn't know how to be soft.

I think I said somethin' awful to him. I was always doin' that. Bein' cruel 'cause it all hurt so bad. Last week Darry 'n I had fought 'cause it's all we knew how to do 'n I'd told him I bet he wished I had died that night. Just like-

I didn't mean it. I never meant it. I didn't know how to not mean it.

"Honey?" I shake my head. Darry's lookin' at me again with big scared eyes 'n I know I've done it again. Gone somewhere.

"Sorry." Darry cups the side of my face, there are new wrinkles alongside his eyes. He always looks like he's just waitin' for somethin' bad to happen.

"S'ok, baby. I ain't gonna make you do nothin' to your hair." Soda's beside me now, too. I don't remember when he got there. "We've been talkin' 'n baby... we need you to let us help you wash it."

I flinch. Hard. Straight back into Soda's arm 'n know he had it there, ready to brace me. "No." Darry sighs, glances over my head, 'n Soda gathers me up into his arms.

"Look, honey. I'm not gonna make you. But I think... you'll feel a bit better. You don't gotta take a shower or nothin'. Maybe a bath?" Darry tries, reachin' out 'n coverin' my hand in his.

"No." I don't know what it was. I'd gone through the damn fire 'n come out scared of the fuckin' water. That night in the fountain was a million years ago. Glory, I don't know how I had space in my head to even remember it.

But I did. Fuck. I did.

"Hey Pony? Can we try somethin' else then? If you humor me?" Soda's tone is pliant 'n a little too bouncy. It gets like that sometimes. But someone has to be alright. So we don't mention it.

He climbs off the couch, pulls me gently up 'n I don't fight it. Darry's got a hand on my shoulder 'n Soda's got his arms around me still 'n they were like this more. Since. Like if they weren't always touchin' me I'd fade right away into nothin'. Sometimes it was nice. Sometimes it made me want to bite 'n tear 'n fuckin' scream.

The kitchen counter is clear, a couple towels folded onto the table, a chair tipped back against the sink. Soda guides me over to the chair, asks me a million questions in those big brown eyes he has that I don't know how to go about answerin'.

Are you fine? Is this fine? Does this remind you of- Does this remind you- Does this-

"Look, if you sit here you can rest your head back 'n I can wash your hair out without havin' to get you any closer to the water. D'ya think... that's somethin' you can stomach?" Soda's off to my side doin' all the talkin' but I'm lookin' straight out at Darry. He's still got a hand on my shoulder 'n Jesus. Has he always looked at me like that?

He shifts his weight 'n furrows his brow. His hand comes up slowly like I'm a spooked animal that might bolt. Some kicked dog. Some scared foal. He cups the side of my face 'n it occurs to me. It's the same place he'd once struck.

Odd. Both times touched in fear. A million years apart. I'm not even sure he notices.

"Pony?" I finally tear my eyes off Darry 'n when I twist my head, he lets his hand fall back to my shoulder.

"Ok." My voice aches. It always does. Maybe from the smoke. Maybe from the cold burn of that still water rottin' in my lungs even now. "Ok, I'll try." The look that Soda 'n Darry shoots over my head is filled with such a palpable relief I nearly cry.

"Ok, baby. I know this isn't easy. D'you think you can... take his jacket off?" Soda already has both hands around my biceps, just gently restin' there like he knows I'm gonna flinch again. "I ain't gonna take it-" My eyes flicker to Darry 'n hurt flashes across his face (not meanin' it, not knowin' how not to)- "'n neither is Dar. I just don't wanna get it wet 'n mess it up, ok hon? But if it's too much I can just try my best to avoid it?"

I clutch at the collar. 'N I can hear his voice clear as day. You better not fuck that leather up. You have no idea how much trouble it was to steal.

'N I almost laugh. Almost.

"He'd kill me if I let you give it the kitchen sink treatment." 'N my voice sounds all thick in my ears. I want to laugh. I want Dallas to knock me up the back of my head for even thinkin' of it. I want-

"Oh, Ponybaby." Soda's arms are around me again. I'm cryin'. When did I start cryin'? Why? 'N it's one of those times I don't want them to hold me. Jesus. It makes me want to run. To let the ache in my throat dissolve into the burn in my lungs. I want to bite 'n tear 'n scream.

But all I can do is sit there. Stiff in the arms I wish I could melt into.

"Soda." Darry drops a hand onto his shoulder 'n gently pries him off of me. When he takes his face out of my neck his cheeks are wet 'n I don't know whether it's my tears or his. "He's not-"

Here.

For a long moment, none of us move. Like a gunfight. Or a caged animal. 'N then I drag blunt nails under my eyes 'n scrub my face 'n Darry blows out a long breath like he'd been holdin' it. He lets go of Soda 'n we all go back to pretendin' nothin' happened. Or at least I do.

"Do you... want help?" When I look down my knuckles are white against the collar. I flex my fingers 'n they burn like that time I'd split them against some socs' jaw. Or that night Johnny 'n I had slept in the backyard out under the stars 'n the cold scalded along my hands 'n cracked my skin 'n I'd bled 'n bled 'n bled-

"Don't make me do it." 'N when I'd looked up at Darry I knew he understood what I meant. I squeezed my eyes shut 'n felt hands roughened by labors of love that had done nothin' but leave him with callouses 'n scars rest at my neck. He pulls the jacket off quickly 'n the rush of winter air slinkin' through the cracks we'd never be able to seal up scorches against my bare arms. I don't open my eyes until Darry presses the bundle to my chest.

When I look to Soda again, his face is dry 'n he's wearin' this encouragin' little smile that tugs too tight on the edges of his mouth. "You ready, Pony?"

I nod. Just a bob of my chin that takes every last ounce of strength in me. Darry turns, yanks another chair close to my side 'n Soda guides my head down to the sink.

The tap flips on. A lonely titterin' against the empty bowl. I don't control anythin' that happens after. Not the low, whimperin' sob that snakes out of my mouth. Not the way my shoulders jar up 'n away. Not my nails bitin' into Darry's arm so hard they leave bloody, half moons in their wake.

"No. Soda, no. Soda. I can't." Darry smooths one hand over my forehead 'n I reach for his wrist, catch it tight 'n hold on like if I don't let go he can keep me out of that night. If I can keep him here I can't go back.

"Pony?" Soda drops down so he can see my face. Reaches out to wrap me in his arms 'n I flinch. Fuckin' flinch. Right back 'n up into Darry's lap.

'N none of us are movin' again. Soda's falterin' in place, arms half reached out 'n face a mask of hurt 'n Jesus why do I always hurt the people I love? Why can't I stop bitin' the hand that wants to hold me?

"What is it, Pony? Are you here?" 'N I can't make my voice or body or anythin' work the way it should. But before I can stop it I choke out-

"Darry." 'N Darry lets out a little noise from somewhere so far in the back of his throat it comes out like a whimper.

"Oh, little colt." 'N suddenly his arms are around me again. My face is pressed into his chest 'n I'm heavin' deep sobs that have been rottin' in my chest for too long. Since before Dallas or Johnny. Before the week in the church or that night in the park. Maybe since Mama. Since Daddy. Since the last person to call me that was put in the freezin' Tusla earth.

"I love you." 'N it's whispery 'n waverin' 'n also the surest thing I've ever heard. 'N this time when I feel Soda return to my side, feel Darry open his arms 'n hold us both like were disappearin' before his eyes I just let myself be held. "You're here."

I am.

'N then he's shiftin' 'n I'm clutchin' his shirt tighter 'n he's pettin' my hair 'n tippin' my head back 'n not makin' me let him go though I'm too goddamn old 'n too big to be beggin' for my older brother.

"Keep your eyes closed, colt." 'N Soda's whisperin' somethin' low 'n soft 'n just louder than the sound the tap makes as it drip drip drips against the sink. 'N when the water runs along my temples 'n along the line of the scar that I'll carry until I die from the night I lost two brothers I don't think of the fountain.

No.

I think about the hot afternoon I won my first track race, felt sweat slide along my brow 'n saw the sun glint off Dallas' silver tooth even from way up in the stands. Hear the whoop of his voice still marred thick 'n heavy with his New York drawl. I think of runnin' home through the lot dodgin' the fat rain drops 'n stoppin' only to let Johnny catch up. Throwin' my head back 'n laughin'. Of the spray of a passin' car. I think of Soda laughin' as he flicks the spatterin' of water left on his hands at my face when we finish the dishes 'n mama not even scoldin' us.

I think of Darry's hands wet from the laundry as he runs a thumb absently over my face. Memorizin' it with calloused fingers when he thinks I've dropped off to sleep. The gentleness of his achin' love for us. Low 'n constant 'n how had I ever missed it?

"We're done, honey." 'N then I'm buried in his chest again, Dallas' jacket pressed against my stomach 'n Johnny's letter tucked into the inside pocket closest to my heart. Bangs drippin' cold between my brow, along my nose, 'n minglin' with tears never gone long enough to dry. 'N for the first time since it all, I'm right here. 'N it doesn't even hurt. It just aches.

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hamiltonfc · 2 days ago

Text

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆⭒˚｡⋆ MOTH TO A FLAME; JUDE BELLINGHAM (Chapter Two)

➤ Summary: Surprisingly, Jude and Noah seem to be getting on well, until Noah does something to get in Kaia's bad book.

➤ Pairing: Jude Bellingham x F!OC

➤ Warnings: Swearing, Food mention.

➤ Discussion tag: #my works: moth to a flame (if you ever have any questions about the story, release schedule, etc. my inbox is always open.)

➤ Word Count: 3,171

TAGLIST | SERIES PLAYLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Kaia’s POV

“And this is Jude. My best friend.” Silence hangs in the air for a short while after the introductions. My stomach is tied in a knot while I watch Jude take in my new boyfriend. If it were a stranger perceiving Jude, they’d probably say he’s happy to meet him and that he’s happy for his friend. But I’m not a stranger. His body language, the slight strain in his jaw from the way he’s gritting his teeth and the way his eyes quickly flash to mine tells me everything I need to know.

Jude extends his hand in Noah’s direction. “Hey,” he says while Noah’s hand also leaves the side of his body, grasping Jude’s. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Noah says, quieter than how Jude said it, nerves an obvious thing he’s feeling. The last time Noah came over, and met my family, I knew he had been really nervous, and rightly so because he knows how much my family means to me. But, when it comes to Jude, I had spoken about him so much, about how we had known each other our whole lives, grown up together. Noah knew that Jude meant just as much to me as my family did. However, there was something else about Jude that didn’t threaten Noah, I don’t think (it had threatened other guys in the past), but there was the small fact of Jude being the man in my life. Jude was Noah’s competition, even though I’d told him he had nothing to worry about in the romantic department, and he believed me, Jude’s status in my life was something for Noah, or any other person who wanted to be with me forever, to reach for.

“Oh, hi, Noah,” my mum walks into the room, carrying two plates of food. “Right, these two are for you,” she nods her head at me and Noah so I promptly take my seat across from Jude, as Noah moves to sit right beside me. “Jude, William will be in in a second with your dinner. He’s currently making sure you both get a couple of extra Yorkshire puddings,” Mum flashes Jude a smile. If there was one thing my dad and Jude had in common it was how much they loved my mum’s Yorkshire puddings. Actually, I’m convinced they are the reason my dad decided to marry my mum in the first place.

“You know me so well,” Jude says and it’s then that I see Jude’s first genuine smile since Noah walked through the door. But it’s no surprise because Jude has always been like another son to my mum, he always has a smile for her.

****

“So, Jude,” Dad says when we’re all finally seated and eating. “Are you enjoying it in Madrid?”

“Yeah,” Jude brings his hand up to cover his mouth, pausing his speech while he finishes his food. “It’s great, barely any rain, and the football’s obviously amazing.”

“You know,” it’s my turn to speak now. “These two,” I wave my fork between my parents. “Literally never shut up talking about you. “Like God, forbid we ever see someone we know when they’re out in town because they’ll get a good old rant about how well you’re doing and how proud they are of you. No, but, honestly, I’m starting to think they’re prouder of you than they are of me,” I let out a laugh, everything I said in jest.

“Oh, don’t be silly. But, of course, we’re proud of you, Jude, you know you’re a part of this family,” Mum says. It had always been inevitable that Jude would be part of our family. My mum had been best friends with Jude’s mum, Denise, for years before they even considered having children. So when they did eventually have kids, they became like bonus children for both of them.

I felt, though, when Mum mentioned that Jude was a part of our family, an awkwardness coming from beside me in Noah’s chair. And although I knew Jude appreciated the comment, and knew that he loved my family just as much as they loved him, I could also tell that he was sensing the same thing I was when I caught his eye.

“So, uhm, Noah,” Jude said, clearing his throat, right before taking a sip of his drink, his attention shifting to the man next to you. “How long are you in England for?”

“Oh, erm, I fly back tomorrow,” Noah nodded, shooting a tight-lipped smile Jude’s way.

Jude nods. “So, did you like working with our Kai, then?”

“Kai?” Noah furrows his brow, turning towards me and tilting his head to the side in question.

“Yeah,” I sigh. “He’s always been the only one to call me that.” I shrug. My whole life everyone had just opted to use my full name, apart from Jude, who had insisted on calling me Kai pretty much since the moment he could talk. “It annoys me when anyone else calls me that.”

“Oh,” Noah squints his eyes, puzzled, but turns back to just nonetheless. “But to answer your question, Jude, it was great working with her.”

“Look at that,” Jude points a Noah, but shifts his gaze back to me. “You come with rave reviews and everything.”

I laugh, but Noah’s the one to speak. “I feel like everything I saw about her before we worked together was a rave review, you don’t get called one of the best actors of our generation without doing anything great, do you?”

“Well, I could give her a few reviews just based on her personality, and, let me tell you, not many of them are that great,” Jude smirks are you, bringing his arms up to his chest when I reach over the table to smack him.

“Oi, watch it,” I can’t help but smile at the pair of them as I slump back in my chair. Watching the two of them interact settled my nerves a little. It was almost a given that anyone I invited into my life had to like Jude. Whether it was a boyfriend or a new friend, my loyalty would always be to Jude over anyone, probably until the day that I got married, so it was better to just make sure that they liked him. Why would I want to know someone who disliked my best friend, someone I’d loved my whole life, anyway?

While Jude and Noah got to talking about everything acting and Jude’s football career, I chose to speak to my parents about my next job, which was starting in February, and my summer plans that would follow. Jude overheard the last part of my conversation, “Are you coming to the Euros? You’ll have wrapped by then, yeah?”

This year’s Euros would be Jude’s third international tournament, and seeing as though I had proudly supported him at the last two, I didn’t see why I wouldn’t be going to this one, too.

“Well, that depends,” I placed my knife and fork together on my plate, signifying that I was done. “Are you going to get me free tickets?” I raise my eyebrows at him.

“I’ve already added your name to the family and friends list for tickets, don’t you worry,” Jude tried to wink at me but instead ended up doing a confused blink, to which I let out a giggle. “I can also get tickets for you four as well,” Jude nods towards the rest of my family. “You won’t be in the friends and family section, but I can see what I can do.”

“Thank you for the offer, Jude, darling, but me and Will won’t be able to get any time off work, and these two will still be in school. But we’ll be cheering you on from our living room, there’s no doubt about that. And depending on how well we’re doing, we might book some time off for the final, just in case,” Mum winks at him before pressing a kiss to his temple after she’s gotten up to collect everyone’s plates.

“Don’t listen to her, Jude,” Olivia spoke for the first time since we sat at the table. “I want a ticket to every game, and I mean every single game. I’d do anything to miss a month of school.”

“Don’t be silly, Olivia, you’ve got your GCSEs,” Dad looks up from his phone where he’s most likely scrolling through Twitter looking at Sky Sports News or something in that vein.

“That’s exactly why I want to go, Dad. So Jude, can you get me tickets?” She turns her body fully towards him, exaggeratedly fluttering her eyelashes at him.

“You know, Liv, as much as I’d like you there, you really should listen to your dad. Even I had to do my GCSEs,” Jude tells her.

Olivia scoffs, stands from her chair, and in doing so nearly knocks the thing over. “God, why’s it only Kaia that ever gets to do fun things?”

She’s halfway up to her room before I get to properly reply but it doesn’t stop me from calling her a sore loser. “Perks of being your biggest fan, I guess,” I shrug at Jude, a small smirk on my lips. “Oh, hey, speaking of the Euros, it completely slipped my mind that you’re working in Germany at the same time, aren’t you, Noah?” I turn to look at him.

“Oh, yeah, I’m shooting that show in Berlin,” Noah nods.

“So you’ll be able to go to a few games, then?” My dad looks up from his phone, dragged out of his trance and into the conversation.

“Maybe,” Noah says. “Not sure how much free time I’ll have, but hopefully I’ll be able to get to a couple.”

“If Kaia has anything to do with it, you’ll be going to every single one that’s played in Berlin,” Noah laughs, nodding as he admits defeat, knowing my father is very much correct. It’s a habit of mine to drag people to football matches, even if they’re not the slightest bit interested.

While my dad and Noah talk some more about his job in Berlin, I notice Jude shuffling around in his seat out of the corner of my eye. I could just take it as him being uncomfortable after being sat down for almost an hour, but the way he’s looking at my dad and Noah through his lashes, his chin practically against his chest, tells me otherwise.

“Right, why don’t you kids go hang out upstairs or something while I help clean up this mess?” Dad moves to grab the remaining glasses that are left on the table while Jude, Noah and I get up to go upstairs.

When in my bedroom, Jude immediately goes to sit at my desk, and I can tell that he’s preparing himself for a potentially awkward situation. His hand rests on the wooden surface, tapping away and I know it’s only a matter of time before he pulls a pen out of the pot so he can fiddle with it.

I go to flop on my bed, grabbing my childhood teddy that I bring up to rest on my chest. Noah claims his spot beside me, in a much more graceful manner.

“So,” I say, breaking the silence before it could take over the room. “You wanna watch a film or something?” I look between the two guys in my room, a questioning look on my face.

“Um, yeah, sure,” Jude says. “How about w-”

“Stop right there,” I say, sitting up abruptly. “Before you even ask, no I’m not sitting through Pulp Fiction again. Like yeah, Uma Thurman’s hot as fuck, but she’s also only in it for like ten minutes, so what’s the point?”

“Whoah, I wasn’t even about to say that, dickhead,” Jude annoyingly shakes his head at me while he tosses a rubber in my direction, narrowly missing my head. “I was actually going to suggest that Noah picked what we watched, so, you know, it could save the arguing, and then you started yelling at me anyway.”

“Oh, okay, good idea,” I turn towards Noah. “Is there anything you’d like to watch, Noah?”

“Hmm, that’s a hard choice,” Noah says, a deep-thinking expression on his face. “I think I’d like to watch Pulp Fiction.”

Jude burst out laughing and I feel my face drop in agony at the thought of watching it again. I’m genuinely about two seconds away from punching my boyfriend right across the face.

“Oh, Kai, you should see your face. Nice one, Noah,” Jude’s holding his stomach at this point.

“What?” Noah says when Jude calms himself down. “I’ve never seen it.”

That’s the moment both Jude and I stop what we’re doing, turning to face Noah with, what I can only imagine are, the most shocked expressions the two of us could muster.

I let out a laugh of disbelief before finding the words. “You what?”

“Did I hear you right?” Jude pipes up as well.

I’ve never seen Pulp Fiction,” Noah repeats, causing me to lay back down, simply staring at the ceiling while I try and get over my shock.

“An actor who’s never seen Pulp Fiction, well I never.” I raise a finger in the air when I’ve had about ten seconds to process the mindblowing news. “You know what I think we have to do, Jude?” I sit up on my elbows so I can look at him properly. “Pop his Pulp Fiction cherry.”

Jude nods as soon as the suggestion leaves my mouth. “It’s only right.”

“Pulp Fiction it is then,” I’m just about to get up from my bed to grab the DVD, when the door of my bedroom bursts open, with a boisterous seven-year-old on the other side.

Leo immediately rushes over to the side of the bed Noah is at. “Hi, Noah, would you like to come and play Roblox with me?”

The look on Leo’s face is adorable. His big, brown eyes look at my boyfriend with so much adoration, even though he’s only met him once before. But Noah doesn’t seem to like Leo as much as the young boy likes him.

“Oh, I- uhm,” Noah, fidgets, barely making eye contact with him, while I watch on with furrowed brows. “I don’t know how.”

“Well, that’s fine, I can teach you,” Leo bounces in excitement on the balls of his feet. There’s nothing in the world that makes him happier than when he’s playing Roblox.

“Well, I don’t really want to,” Noah says bluntly, leading to Leo’s face dropping, a little pout forming on his lips.

“Oh, okay,” Leo says sadly and I can tell by the sound of his voice that he’s getting choked up.

He’s about the leave the room when Jude stands up and walks over to him. Getting on one knee in front of him, he places his hands on the small boy’s shoulders. “Hey, I’ll come and play with you, yeah? we can play that one we were playing last time that you kept beating me at.” Jude picks Leo up, throwing him over his shoulder, causing him to giggle louder than ever. It’s a giggle that can be heard all the way down the hall until they get to Leo’s bedroom.

My room is silent for a while, allowing me quite a bit of time to think about what I just witnessed. The only thing I can think about, though, is that I didn’t say or do anything while Leo was in the room with me. I should’ve done something to make sure he didn’t get upset, not even a little bit.

After a little more time, I say, “What the fuck was that?” I turn to Noah, who has barely moved since Jude and Leo left the room.

“I don’t know, he says, eyes failing to meet mine.

“That’s not good enough, Noah, you almost made him cry because you didn’t want to play with him. He’d be really upset if it wasn’t for Jude being here,” I let out a sigh. It was bad enough thinking about seeing either of my siblings upset but seeing Leo’s face for that short moment that he thought no one wanted to play with him was heartbreaking.

“I’m not good with kids, okay?” I have no idea what to do with them,” Noah says, raising his voice a little.

“Then just let him down easily, then, there was no need to be rude. He’s seven, Noah. He only wanted to play with you, you’re never going to get good with kids if you’re never willing to spend even ten minutes with one,” I scowl at him, mad with him for what he did to my little brother. “You know, it’s probably better if we call it a night, I’m quite tired.”

Noah nods. “Okay,” he gets up from the bed. “I’ll see you after Christmas, I suppose,” he leans down to press a kiss to my lips, which I accept, kissing back gently, but he knows that I’m still pissed off at him and that I’m probably going to be like that for a while longer. I shift my body to get off the bed. “It’s fine, I’ll let myself out.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Night. Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, Merry Christmas,” he says, closing the door behind him on his way out.

I fall back onto the bed, once again finding peace against my duvet, a sigh falling from my lips being the last thing I remember before I slip into a deep sleep.

****

Jude: You okay Sleeping Beauty?

Kaia: God when did I fall asleep? Kaia: Also why are you still up? It’s 3am.

Jude: About 7:30ish. Jude: And I’m not tired but I also wanted to make sure you were okay.

Kaia: I’m doing fine. Kaia: Just shocked me a little that’s all. Kaia: Was Leo okay when you were playing with him?

Jude: Yeah but he did ask why Noah didn’t want to play with him so I just told him that he knew I wanted to play with him instead. Jude: But what he did was really fucked up.

Kaia: I know. Kaia: I'm glad he’s not really upset about it though. Kaia: And thank you for saying what you did. I think I’m still going to take him out for ice cream or something tomorrow tho just to make sure he’s okay.

Jude: No problem and yeah that’ll be good for him. Jude: So did he just leave?

Kaia: no I said it’d probably be best if we called it a night. Kaia: I made it clear that I was pissed at him so that’s why I think he was so fine with leaving early.

Jude: You did the right thing he can’t talk to a kid like that without knowing that he did was wrong. Jude: Anyway I’m off to bed. See you on Christmas day. x

Kaia: Yep, goodnight. x

Taglist: @eunoiasgoal @4evermyownmuse

If you would like to support my work make sure to like and reblog this post, and if you're able, consider buying me a pastry! (I also take writing commissions if anyone would like one).

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham fanfic #jb5 #jude bellingham x oc #jude victor william bellingham #hamiltonfc.writes #my works: moth to a flame

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utilitycaster · 4 hours ago

Note

beau's backstory arc really does take 2 episodes and its not even motivated by beau. its nott why we even go up there. beau, like laudna does not desire to solve anything in her backstory. but unlike laudna she does have current goals (learning to people, learning to monk, impressing her teacher, her spy gig, just learning in general) and future goals (cobalt soul, mage rangling, kid having).

Correct...I'm not sure why you mentioned this? Like, I said as much as well, and that's not a problem because Beau has goals and interests, and she could have still had a meaningful story without visiting her family (though it certainly adds a lot).

With that said however this does feel kind of inadvertently an opportunity to point out the care with which Matt treated character backstory in the Mighty Nein vs. the lack thereof with Bells Hells. Beau said she was taken to the Cobalt Soul and her father paid someone off. She was on the run from her home with no reason to return and plenty of reasons to stay away.

In the Mighty Nein's story, not only is she carefully brought back to her home by a thoughtful interweaving of her and Nott's stories; Matt also looked at her cobalt soul backstory, said "does this match up with the Cobalt Soul as it exists in the world," came to a conclusion of "no, this isn't how the institution generally works," and had Dairon look into it, leading to a very satisfactory conclusion that happened without Beau's involvement but still meant a lot to her! Hell, you could even call it a consequence; Beau complaining about it all the time eventually got through to someone!

For Bells Hells, it was always just "YOUR abilities are ALSO kinda tied to the moon and/or you need THIS macguffin." The shards were nice but like...it felt this was a golden opportunity for Fearne and Ashton to serve as heirs to the titans in a re-binding or proper banishment of Predathos but in the end they were just essentially a variation on Cool Magic Items. Neither of them even did anything significantly Titan-related in the end; the But The Titans refrain meant jack shit. And you know, I felt that Imogen, Laudna, and Ashton's complaints about the gods rang hollow...but what if they hadn't? My argument was always "this doesn't match up with what we know of the gods from all other lore" but I think what is notable is that I wasn't proven right...but I wasn't even proven wrong. What if the gods had addressed this? What if Imogen being a Ruidusborn DID mean she was either beyond the reach of the gods/could not be heard or that they felt it was better she suffered? What if the gods feared what the Hishari had done in terms of resurrecting the titans? What if Ashton were textually unable to spend time in temples, rather than this just being theorized by people desperate to prove the gods were bad?

The problem is that, on some level, improv was barely happening. Matt didn't say Yes And or No Actually, he just sort of barrelled on with his original plans and world without addressing any of the things his players brought up (again, lack of consequences, good or bad) and so we have no real answers, Bells Hells do look like selfish jackasses because in the absence of new information I'm continuing to believe the old, certainly when the characters were so unkind in the end, and everything feels flat, unexplored, and dull as compared to the lively and rewarding and meaningful stories of Vox Machina and the Mighty Nein.

#answered #anonymous #cr spoilers

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reverd-ck · 1 day ago

Text

ch.2- he's so perfect, blah blah blah

You blinked into a familiar ceiling. Where have you last seen this?

The morning light shone through the window, penetrating through the blinds. Its pattern left a soft glow of illumination into the room. It took your eyes a few seconds to finally understand: This was Choso’s apartment, and you were in his guest room.

How did that happen?

Breathing in a deep breath, you feel that your throat is unusually dry, and your face feels a little sticky. You clear your throat as you slowly sit up, your aching muscles straining to support your weight. When you got up, a headache out of nowhere hit you like a truck.

Pulsing in relentless waves, it attacked your head over and over again, never once settling down. Hands shooting up to your temples, you try to massage your head, and ease the throbbing pain.

Headache, dry throat, and the sorest muscles ever. Yeah, you definitely got drunk last night.

Moving your legs off the bed and groaning, you head towards the washroom to try to clean yourself up. You washed your face with hot water, which helped soothing the headache a bit more. You could only wash your face as there wasn't a toothbrush or anything for you to use, so to satisfy your other need, you went into the kitchen to get a glass of water.

As you were filling up the glass, you heard some small footsteps, and the creak of a door. Yuji had woken up, and was also going to the bathroom to do his routine. When he opened his door, he saw you in the kitchen. You two exchange a glance while Yuji rubs his eyes to make sure he still isn’t dreaming.

“Ohh!! It’s you!! My brother’s girl friend!!” Yuji exclaimed, a smile on his face.

“Good morning Yuji,” you reply. “Although, I wouldn’t say girl-friend.” you add nervously while taking a sip of the water.

Yuji, having completely moved on from the topic, asked, “Why are you here in the morning? Aren’t you supposed to be at your house?”

You took a second to conteplate how to explain to a 9 year old how badly drunk you got last night that his older brother needed to pick you up.

“Uhh, Choso did me a really good favor and picked me up from a place when I couldn’t drive.” you lie, convincing the nine year old.

“Oh, okay.” Yuji said, accepting the explaination and going on about his morning. You sigh and drink from the glass again. You saw on the couch your phone, wallet, and other neccesities. You walked over to collect them, assuming Choso just put your things on the couch for you.

He’s so nice, you think to yourself, thankful for the little extra he always does for everybody.

As you sit on the couch scrolling through your messages and drinking water at the same time, Choso comes out of his room and sees you already up.

“Hey, sleep well?” Choso asked when he saw you sitting on the couch. He was still nervous on how to correctly approach you after last night, so he decided he’ll just play it off as nothing and be “nonchalant” about it.

“Yup!” you replied, smiling. Your brows furrowed a little, still battling the headache. “Thanks for driving me back too, Cho. Really really appreciate it.”

“Eh, it was nothing, no big deal,” Choso replied, still being cautious on what he said. He looked at your slightly pained expression, and he thinks that you remembered what happened last night. Oh god- Would it be awkward just talking now?

“So..uhh..” Choso mumbled. “Are you feeling better now?”

You thought he was mentioning how drunk you were, but he was really trying to ask you about the scene last night.

“Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better now, I just have a huge headache though,” you sighed.

That wasn’t what I meant. He thought. As in your mood. But he didn’t want to bring it up- what if he was bringing back bad memories? He didn’t want to do that to you. Choso decided it would be worth it to just not mention last night at all and will only elaborate if you brought it up.

But you never did bring it up, being convinced to eat breakfast with him and Yuji.

The whole time, he was scanning your face and expressions to see if you had really forgotten or some part of you still hurt, but you were just hiding it.

Why would you need to hide it in front of me though? Choso thought.

As you ate a simple breakfast- Toast with butter, you were a little lost in thought, trying to piece together a timeline. Weirdly, you feel like you’ve forgotten something that should be mentioned sometime around… someone… you just couldn’t figure out who.

First, that guy did break up with you. Piece of shit, really. Were you over it? A little, now. Better than yesterday, at least, when you decided just to drink it all away at a bar. Then, you have a vague recollection of texting someone, which you found out to be Choso this morning, and then passing out.

Sitting there, thinking to yourself, you didn’t notice the person across from you staring at a face he found pretty for a long time. Choso thought you were playing it off as trying not to be a bother- and he was trying to form a plan to talk about it with you a little more. Hesitantly, he tries to start a conversation about the topic.

“Um… about last night…” he murmured unsurely. He looks down, to the side, at your plate, the fork you’re holding, anything but your face. You tilt your head sideways to signify that you’re listening. In your head, you were freaking out a little bit. Did you do something wrong? Did you do something embarrasing? How bad was it that he needed to confront to you about it?

You spoke up before he coud continue. “Oh- oh my god. If it’s anything I did, then I’m so so sorry for it!” you said, sitting up a little straighter.

Choso was lost. He looked at your genuinely clueless expression to confirm is theory.

You had genuinely forgot.

Alarmed by his sudden silence, you tried to clarify once more. “Really! I don’t remember a single thing! What did I do?” you exclaimed, honestly defending yourself. You put your hands up in the air as a gesture of surrender.

Choso, having snapped out from his momentary shock, tried to clear the air again. “Relax, you didn’t do anything…I’m just surprised you forgot, that’s all.” he said.

He knew you didn’t believe his explaination, but you didn’t question further, which was all he needed to sit down and think about how to approach this.

Still feeling ashamed, you quickly ate your breakfast and left his apartment in an attempt to avoid staying too long. Before you finish chewing, you get up and say, in a muffled tone, that you're going home. Then you go to the couch and gather your belongings. When you mutter "sorry" to him and Yuji, Choso nods in response and hands you your jacket. You closed the front door after putting on your shoes and shouting "Bye," your cheeks still flushed from the awkwardness.

Choso was still standing in the doorway, surprised on how fast you left. He should say sorry for embarrasing you, he thought. He felt a small nudge on his leg. He looked down as Yuji looked up at Choso and bluntly said, “She’s pretty. Why is she not your girl friend?” in little brother astonishment. Choso’s face reddended as he picked up Yuji and mubmled “That’s enough bro, thanks for your input.” Yuji giggled on Choso’s shoulder, kicking his legs and smiling. He smiled back. All he ever loved was you and Yuji. He wasn’t sure how, but he’ll get through with you one day.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Two weeks later, you had found another date to look forward to, getting over the last one pretty quickly, even if it hurt more than the others. This time, it was someone who looked promising. His name was Toji- someone who you met at online. You were a bit wary of him though, since he seemed like the type to abandon his own son and sell him to a clan who wants to kill him, but you weren’t too sure. That was what first dates were for, to learn more about them, right?

It was 5pm, and you were starting to get ready to go to the bar where you guys planned to meet up. You hummed to your favorite song playing on a speaker nearby as you did your makeup, feeling just a bit nervous about the upcoming date. Generally, people online didn’t live up to much of your standards. As you were dabbing on blush, the doorbell rang. Curiously, you weren’t expecting anyone here at this time. Putting your brush down, you speed-walked to the door, yelling “Coming!” and looking through the peephole.

To your surprise, you saw an eye staring right back at you.

You inhaled a sharp breath before yanking your eye away from the hole and taking a step back from the door. Until you heard a familiar voice.

“Yuji, stop peeking in from that side. It won’t work,” said Choso.

“But I wanted to see if she was there yet!” Yuji’s voice whined.

Breathing a sigh of relief that it was just Choso and his brother, you unlocked and opened the door, being met with Yuji’s beaming smile and Choso right there with him.

“Gosh, Yuji! You scared me with your eye!” you said. “Why are you here at my apartment anyway?”

Choso sighed. “Because-”

“Because the skibidi toilet live stream is happening right now!! And it said to bring a friend for double aura points!!” Yuji continued, eyes sparkling.

You blinked at him once. Twice. Aura points? What’s that? You look up to Choso, silently asking him if what Yuji said was what is actually happening, and Choso just gave it a short nod.

“Umm… sure… You can-”

Before you could finish your sentence, Yuji rushed in, laughing. He quickly turned on the TV and navigated Youtube to pull up the livestream.

You turn your attention back to Choso. He coughs a little in his hand, then explains that that livestream told everyone to bring a friend, and Yuji insisted on going to your home to watch the livestream with him.

You felt happy that Yuji chose you to be his friend watching with him, but then again, you had to go in around thirty minutes. You looked back at Yuji and then back to Choso.

“Um, I don’t think I’ll be able to stay and watch the whole livestream, Choso. I’m really sorry…” you said, a pit forming in your stomach.

Choso gave you a pointed look. “Another date?” he asked. You nod slowly, feeling regret that you couldn’t stay.

Choso was silent for a few seconds.

He can stop you now, he thought. Now was a good opportunity to stop you from ruining yourself all over again. He just needed a place where you and him could talk about it without Yuji overhearing.

Opening his mouth, he says nervously, “Hey, can we talk somewhere?”

Curious, you followed him into your bedroom. You closed the door behind you, and asked, “So what’s up?”

Choso stood in front of the closed door and took a deep breath.

“Don’t go on that date.”

Immediately, your reaction was a quick “Huh?”. You registered what he said- you just didn’t believe it.

Choso paused again. “I’m serious, y/n. Don’t go on that date.”

“Why?”

He didn’t answer for a second. He had his hands in his pockets, looking at the floor. His position didn’t come off as someone who was sure about what he was going to say, which made you question him even more.

“Why Choso? Do you… know this guy or anything?” you say, unsurely . “Or do you have magic powers and can tell the future?” you joke with a light smile, trying to ease the tension.

He stayed silent for another second. “Just…don’t,” he reiterated, making you even more confused.

“Why? Should I be worried or anything?”

Seeing him this unsure made you panic a little. You didn’t understand why he was being so secretive. Or maybe he was waiting for you to figure out the reason yourself?

“Is it because of him? Does he have a bad rep or anything I didn’t hear of?”

“No, I don’t know him. I just don’t want you to go.”

Huh? So what was his reason on why he doesn’t want you to go? Wait, was he saying that he doesn’t want you to go on the date, or he doesn’t want you to go in general, what did he mean?

“Oh, is it because of Yuji’s skibidi thing? Is that why you want me to stay?”

Choso could feel this conversation is going in the wrong direction. He needed to speak his mind- but how?

“No, no it isn’t about that either… It’s…”

His sudden pause makes you fidgety. What did he have to tell you that was so important? You checked your phone for the time- 5:36. You needed to be going in almost ten minutes, and you still haven’t finished your makeup.

You don’t want to interupt Choso on what he wants to tell you- but what does he need to say that has to take this long for him to think about it?

“It’s what?”

He sighed. Maybe he should just tell his truth and go in blind. He saw you check your phone for the time, he knew you were getting a little impatient. He needed to be quick.

“Look, y/n. I don’t want you to go because… you need to give yourself time to heal before you move on.”

He did it. He said the words. You would have to get it now. By the end of this, you’ll get it. Maybe he’ll finally be able to stop you.

His words stunned you a bit. Heal? Move on? You already did, right? Why was he so concerned over this now?

“What do you mean by that?” you ask. Truthfully- you knew exactly what he meant, you just needed to confirm it.

Choso hesitates. How is this the best way to put it?

“That last breakup you had, it was really rough, even for you. You know… when you called me to pick you up from the bar, and when you slept over… you sorta…” Choso sucked his teeth in. He wasn’t sure if he should be telling you this, while you were living in blissful ignorance.

Your mind jumped to a horrible conclusion. If you had forgotten about the whole thing, of course he would feel uncomfortable with you going to meet with another person.

“I what? Oh my god, Choso, did I do anything? I’m so, so, so sorry if you were uncomfortable, I-”

“No! No, don’t get the wrong idea.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. At least that didn’t happen.

Choso goes on. “It was nothing like that. Um, last time, you came to me really, really upset because of that breakup.”

You thought about his words. It should ring a bell, right? How could you forget about something like that?

What did you even say though? You had completely forgot about the thing. No recollection at all.

“Choso, I think I completely forgot about that.”

He looks up at you. “I know you did. But I really think it should be unhealthy for you to move on so quickly.”

His words echo in your head. Honestly, they had a truth to it.

On the second hand, why was he being so protective now?

“Choso, I think I get where you’re coming from, but I still need to go, you know.” You checked the time on your phone again. 5:38. You really, really had to be hurrying up now.

Yuji’s voice called from the living room. “Are you going to watch with me?”

Choso looked back at the door. He didn’t want to leave his little brother hanging, but he didn’t want to leave you again.

You decided for him.

“I’m sorry Choso, I really am. How about I go on this date and see? Then we’ll talk about it more?”

You were definitely trying your best to compromise, get rid of the conversation, and get out as fast as you can, but Choso had other plans.

“No,” he said affirmatively. “You need to stay in and let yourself rest.”

Your impatience was really getting a hold of you now. Why was he so insistent? Why couldn’t he just let you go? Was it really a big deal?

Does he need to do this now? Right now?

“Choso, I’m fine. Let me go.”

“No.”

“Let me go.”

“No.”

You clench your fists a little. You really shouldn’t be wasting time like this.

“Choso, please. Why are you being so stingy about this? Since when did you start caring?”

“Since you texted me drunk and sobbed into my shoulder!”

The room was silent for a second. Did you really do that?

“I thought, after that, I would try to make and effort to not let you get yourself depressed like that ever again,” he said.

You looked at Choso in the eyes. He was staring right back into you. It all made so much more sense now. You now knew why he was trying to stop you.

But you can’t just bail out like this.

“Choso, I appreciate it. I really do. But please, I need to go to this one. It’s too late to cancel now. I’ll look like a bitch doing so.”

He was about to lose you. He didn’t want to wait another time to stop you. He had you now, why give up? He needed to say something, anything. Anything to give as an excuse.

“Y/n…”

“Choso, I actually-”

“Y/n. I don’t want you to go because I love you.”

What?

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

a/n

whats up guys?! welcome to the fic that i thought was a good idea then it wasn't.

hopefully i will finish this though.

why did it take so long?

deco*27 monitoring reference yuji itadori?

originally y/n was gonna blow tf up and be a whole bitch then it felt weird so i had to rewrite the entire last part

when the plot is swiss cheesing.

or am i just reading into this too much?

hello brain rot yuji i love you with all my heart

thank you for reading <3

dividers by @.enchanthings @.adornedwithlight

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