#i came with no friends and i left with no friends! and when i tried to talk to the other girls in my cabin i could tell they were like...

[peachesofteal]

more pizza girl

You're fucked.

It's the only way to explain how you feel, standing in the store, staring at bottles of liquor, wine, beer. You don't even know if this is the appropriate thing to do, but you've always seen it in shows, movies, so it must be, right?

You should have said no to this whole thing, should have told them you're busy, or you're working, or you had plans, but for some reason, you just knew they'd see through it. They'd call your bluff.

So here you were, staring at a rack of wine, trying to pick something to take to their house for dinner.

Even the thought is a marvel. You're not a complete shut in, you visit the few friends you have on occasion, your family, attend work functions, but this is different.

You know it is.

"Excuse me?" A petite old lady chirps at your shoulder, and you turn. "Do you need help?"

"Oh, um... no."

"You sure? It's just you've been standing here for almost thirty minutes." Fuck. 

"I'm fine." It comes out more assertive than you would have liked, and she backs away without another word. Great. 

You choose a six pack and book it out of there.

Their place is cozy. Not too small, not too big, clean and organized, orderly.

Except for the dog.

He's massive. 

And slobbery.

And... not for you.

Simon realizes immediately, and herds him away behind a baby gate, where he promptly slumps to the floor and closes his eyes, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth.

"He's..."

"Ye dinnae have to say cute. We know he's not."

"He's a mutt," Simon tells you, placing a bowl of something hot on the table, "but he's ours. Rescued him an' everything. Never liked pets but... found him on the street an' for some reason couldn't leave him behind."

"That's so sweet." He shrugs, Johnny rolls his eyes.

"Didnae tell me a thing. Just came home with a giant slobbering bear." You eye the table and it's three chairs, suddenly overflowing with anxiety. Which one should you pick? Which ones are theirs? Do they sit next to each other? Doesn't someone always sit at the head of the table? "Take a seat wherever," Johnny coaxes but you remain frozen, avoiding their eyes.

A hand folds over your shoulder with gentle, careful pressure, and warmth. "This one." Simon urges you towards the one in the middle, and you relax, grateful.

"Sorry." You mumble, but Johnny reaches across the table and squeezes your hand.

"Ye dinnae have anything to be sorry for. We're really happy you came."

"I... I'm glad I came too." The admission tries to stick in your throat before you force it free, and they reward you with soft smiles.

"Let's eat then."

Dinner passes in a breeze. It's so easy to sit with them, be around them. Involved in their conversation but comfortable enough to bow out of it too, and just listen. They're very good at navigating it, knowing when to stop and go, when to ask you something, and when to move on.

"If you want to stay for a bit, we were thinking about watching a movie. Afraid we're not really exciting." Simon calls over his shoulder, unfolding his glasses and slipping them on his face.

"Oh." Just do it, do it, do it- "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah but no... nothing scary. I can't do those." Johnny jerks his head towards the couch.

"Nothin' scary."

Simon doesn't give you the opportunity to stress over the seating arrangement this time, and points immediately to the left side of the couch. "The button down on the side will extend the footrest, and it can lean all the way back."

"Wow." Johnny settles on the other side, and Simon takes up an overstuffed armchair to your right.

Lots of distance. You kind of feel sad about it.

Your eyelids start to droop after an hour, and no matter how hard you fight it, you're in a losing battle. "I think I should go home." You mumble, and Simon pauses the screen.

"You alright?"

"I'm falling asleep." You don't make any moves to get up, instead curling in closer, tucking your hands under your cheek. The room is warm, the couch is soft, and the dog is snoring, which is comforting, in a weird way. "Should call an uber."

"We'll drive ye."

"No, no... I'm-" you yawn. You don't want to move, and when no one says anything, you let your eyes close for a few minutes. Just a few minutes.

In the dark, who knows what time or how many minutes or hours later, a blanket is tucked around your shoulders, shoes slipped off your feet, and someone strokes your cheek, trailing up over your forehead and away, lingering briefly.

"Sleep tight sweet girl."

[willowsnook]

breaking rules

Can we get heavy PDA Joe and everyone’s reaction

joe burrow x gf!reader 

—-------------------—----

Your friends made fun of you relentlessly because, to a lot of the outside world, it looked like you and Joe were just friends, distant cousins even. PDA made you very uncomfortable, and that paired well with Joe, who hated anyone prying into his private life. Of course, his teammates and your circle knew that the two of you were together, but the media had yet to catch on, even though you guys lived together. 

So imagine your surprise when it was now an hour into the team’s post-season dinner party, and Joe had not left your side. Usually,  at these events, you arrive together but then break off, him going to find his boyfriend Ja’Marr, and you going to hang with some of the other WAGs. Then you meet up at the end to leave, and the cycle repeats. 

But tonight, Joe’s hand had been snugly placed around your waist, even when you were talking to other people.  Missing the playoffs had hit him hard, and you had watched him retreat into his shell these past few weeks; you were there for him when he needed it. So you weren’t shocked at his lack of conversation tonight but surprised by the touch. 

The people you were talking to left to grab a drink at the bar, so you took the opportunity to turn to Joe. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, concerned. 

“Mmhmm,” he mumbled. You looked down at his arm wrapped around you and back up at him, arching an eyebrow. “Just want to be close to you.” 

Nodding, you decided you’d let him have a pass tonight to be clingy, even though you were cringing on the inside. Ja’Marr called over to Joe from the other side of the room and you were dragged along to join them. He was sitting on a couch next to Tee, and Joe sat down in an armchair, pulling you down on top of him. Both of his friends’ eyes widened at the sight. 

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Ja’Marr said once he came out of shock. 

“I thought you guys would never beat the siblings allegations,” Tee chimed in and Joe flipped them off before settling his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you against his chest. 

You felt your cheeks flush as you settled into Joe's lap, acutely aware of the eyes on you. Joe seemed unfazed, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your hip as he chatted with Ja'Marr and Tee. You tried to relax, reminding yourself that these were your friends, but you couldn't shake the feeling of exposure.

"You good?" Joe murmured in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Joe pressed a soft kiss to your temple, and you heard Tee let out a low whistle.

"Damn, Joe. Who are you and what have you done with our QB1?" Tee teased.

As the night wore on, Joe's affection only intensified. He peppered kisses along your shoulder, nuzzled into your neck, and whispered sweet nothings in your ear. Your discomfort battled with a growing warmth in your chest at his open displays of love.

"Get a room, you two!" Sam Hubbard called out as he passed by, earning a chorus of laughter and wolf whistles from nearby teammates.

Joe just grinned, pulling you impossibly closer. "Maybe we will," he shot back and you slapped him in the chest. 

Deciding you needed some air, you walked off towards the balcony, naturally with Joe right behind you. 

“I’m giving you a one-night pass for this kind of behavior only because you’ve been so depressing,” you told him and he smirked at your honesty. He stepped closer to you, sliding his arms around your waist while you rested yours on his shoulders. 

“Then I better take advantage hmm,” he said, eyes flickering down to your lips. Before you could protest, his lips were on yours, moving steadily as he found comfort in you. His hands started to dip lower, and you swatted them, causing him to smile against you. 

When you pulled back, you gave him an irritated look, and he pouted. 

“Come on princess, I just need you,” he admitted and your heart clenched at his words. You knew he was holding on to you like a lifeline and he knew you’d do anything to be there for him. 

“Fine, then let’s get a room hot shot,” you said, dragging him off the balcony and towards the front of the venue. Ja’Marr gave you a teasing wave goodbye and you flipped him off. 

Joe chuckled at your gesture, his hand laced tightly with yours as you maneuvered through the crowded room. The whispers and knowing smirks from his teammates didn’t faze him in the slightest, but you could feel your cheeks heating up again.

“You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” you muttered as you both stepped outside, the cool night air hitting your face.

“Immensely,” Joe replied, his grin only widening. “Can’t let them think I’m a robot all the time.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your amusement. Once you reached the car, Joe opened the door for you with a flourish, earning an eye roll that turned into a laugh. He climbed in after you, wasting no time pulling you back into his lap.

“Joe,” you started to protest, but he silenced you with another kiss, this one softer, less teasing, and more vulnerable.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your lips when he finally pulled back, his voice low and sincere. “For putting up with me tonight. For everything.”

Your heart softened as you reached up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. “Always, Joe. I’ve got you.”

His smile this time wasn’t the playful smirk you were used to. It was small, genuine, and filled with gratitude. You let yourself lean into him, your fingers absentmindedly playing with the chain around his neck as the driver started the car.

For all the teasing and awkwardness of the night, you knew one thing for certain: Joe Burrow might not be big on PDA most of the time, but when he let his guard down like this, you couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

[mononijikayu]

toxic till the end — fushiguro toji.

“You can’t fix everything. You should know that.” you replied, your words trembling as they left your lips. “I don’t know if I can ever forget that.” He nodded slowly, his expression one of deep regret. “I know.” Silence grew once more between the two of you.  You could feel the tears pricking your eyes harshly. And you could tell that he was noticing as much as you.

GENRE: alternate universe - actor/s au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, nsfw, r-18, smut, making out, biting, scratching, kissing, rough sex, p-i-v sex, fingering (female receiving), creampie, pet names (babe, etc....), age gap (reader is late 20s, toji is mid 30s) love, humor, light-hearted, long-term relationship, secret relationship, cheating, break-up, falling out of love, toxic relationship, drama, depression, grief, sexual intercourse, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of naked bodies, depiction of cheating, depiction of grief, depiction of depression, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of sexual intercourse, actor! toji, actor! reader;

WORD COUNT: 15k words

NOTE: i know i disappeared for almost a week and im really sorry,,,,,i just wasn't feeling well and in the middle of that - i was also busy. i genuinely wanted to publish something but there were things that came up - including me finishing a commission. and also worrying about uni stuff. its a really long one, i still have stuff to edit for bonus cuts for that. i am really sorry but i come back with a fury with toji!!! anyway, i hope my absence didnt make yall leave. enjoy and i love yall :']

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YOU NEVER LIKED BEING PERCEIVED. Even if you were an actor, you didn’t want to be. You absolutely hated the attention, you hated having to be known to people you didn’t know on the street.

He knew that. Which is why you never allowed yourself to go on dates with him in that local restaurant. Or ever allow yourself to be comfortable kissing him, knowing paparazzis were following you both. 

But he was loud about his love for you. He always has been. It was obvious when he looked at you during press tours. It was obvious when he heard the sound of your name and smiled like it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

He was never good at hiding the fact that he was in love. That’s just how it was with loving a man so magnetic and passionate as him. He tried to convince you that he wanted the world to know. 

Yet, you weren’t prepared to do that. You weren’t prepared for the world to know, for the world to be in your bed. You didn’t want everyone to know that you were his, because you were scared. You were scared of what could happen.

You’ve gone through the trauma of it before, your own ex–boyfriend announcing the break–up before you even knew about the break up. And all the people that hated you, for making him sad. For all those fantasies in their head of all the things you did wrong. You were frightful that it would repeat all over again.

Perhaps he got tired of that. Perhaps he got tired of waiting. Maybe he got tired of you. And you were scared of that. You were scared that this was the case.

You were horrified that he would do the same thing like that ex-boyfriend you loved before. You didn’t want to manifest it. But you also didn’t make a move. You were right. He would get tired of you. You made it this way. You let this happen.

The apartment was eerily silent, the kind of silence that pressed down on you, making every breath feel heavier. You stood in the living room, arms crossed, heart racing as you waited for Toji to come home. He had a late night shoot, he told you. They’d extended the shoot, because of the weather. That’s what he said in the next text. He won’t be home until today.

But as you waited home, all that plagued your mind was the conversation with your friend this morning. You felt sick as the words repeated over the phone.

It won’t go away, not even when you want it to. It remained ever so present, still echoing, hammering deep in your mind. It was as if the weight of her words settled deep in your chest like a knife would. 

"I saw Toji last night." she had said, her voice hesitant. "He was with someone else."

“What….what do you mean by that?” You muttered back at her, still reeling from the words that slipped from her mouth. “Surely it was just another cast member—”

“They were kissing, babes.” She told you earnestly, yet you could tell she was having a hard time with it. She knew that everything she’s saying was breaking your heart. “I’m so sorry.”

“No…no, thank you for telling me.”

You hung up after that. You didn’t know what else to say. What could you have said that could have made it any better? You couldn’t think of anything. All that remained were the years of memories together, now scattered across that empty space where love should be. 

The betrayal, the doubt, and the fear had been building in that space where you should feel your love for him. A place where it is still there, that love, bleeding and tattered by all that grief that comes with mourning the relationship. And now, standing here in the place you both called home, it felt like you were about to explode.

The door clicked open just around lunch time. You had remembered you had given Toji a separate key for your house. Just as you had a key for his. You didn’t want to see him just yet. Not right now. Fushiguro Toji stepped in, face covered by the levelling of his cap. His usual confident demeanor clouded by an unease you hadn’t seen before. He looked at you, the tension in the air immediately palpable.

Babe, didn’t know you’d be awake." he said, trying to sound casual but failing miserably.

"You said you’d never do that to me." you replied, your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and anger. “You said you wouldn’t be like him.”

He nodded, closing the door behind him. "Alright. What’s going on?"

"I know you were with someone else last night, and you kissed her. My friend saw you." you spat, your voice breaking with the anger and pain you kept hidden. "How could you do this? How could you betray me like that?"

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked caught off guard. Then his expression hardened. "It’s not what you think."

"Not what I think?" you repeated, your voice rising. "Then explain it to me, Toji. Explain why you were out with someone else while I was here, thinking everything was fine."

"I was tired, okay?" he snapped back, his voice louder now, the frustration evident. "Tired of feeling like I’m not enough, like I’m just waiting for you to trust me."

“How long has it been?” You asked him. “How long have you and your lover been going behind my back?”

“Babe—”

“How long?”

He looked away, the contorting guilt bellowing all over his face. This was a look you had seen time and time again. “A few months.”

"A few months." You repeated.

“Yes, but it was casual hook ups and she has a boyfriend too—”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” you shouted, tears streaming down your face. "You think that’s going to fix anything?"

"I didn’t plan for it to happen." he said, his voice softening, but the damage was done. "I was just... I felt alone."

"You felt alone?" you repeated, the hurt in your voice cutting through the air. "What about me, Toji? Do you have any idea how alone I’ve felt, wondering if you’d get tired of me, if you’d leave me like everyone else has?"

He took a step closer, his expression filled with regret. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"But you did." you whispered, the fight leaving your body as the weight of it all pressed down on you. "God, I just….is it my fault? Is it because I have a busy schedule? Or is it just because I haven’t allowed the world to know about you? And you were desperate to be seen with someone?”

He shook his head. “That’s not the case.”

“It seems to look like it.” You laughed to yourself, almost mad in the thought of your grief. “You did say she had a boyfriend. I doubt that would have changed much, if she knew that you belonged to someone.”

He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours, filled with a regret that almost made your heart ache. His voice, usually so steady, trembled with sincerity. "Please, let’s talk about this. I can make this right."

The words hung in the air, heavy and bittersweet. You wanted to believe him, to let those words soothe the rawness inside you. But they felt too late, like a balm for wounds already too deep. You shook your head, the fight draining from your body as the weight of it all pressed down on you.

"You cheated on me. So brazenly." you whispered, your voice barely audible, laced with pain. "Just like he has. Just like every other man I’ve ever let into my life." The admission stung, the truth of it settling in your chest like a stone. 

“Babe…..”

"Maybe you were just another number, another ex."

His face twisted in anguish, his hands clenching at his sides. "Babe, please, listen to me—"

“I’ve listened to you long enough.” Your voice was soft but firm, carrying the finality of a decision made. Tears blurred your vision, hot and relentless, streaking down your cheeks. “Just... leave your keys. I’m going. I can’t stand to look at you or stay with you here.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Toji's gaze faltered, his lips parting as if he wanted to say something more, to plead, to explain. But no words came. Slowly, he reached into his pocket, pulling out the keys that once symbolized shared moments, shared spaces, and placed them gently on the table.

“I’m sorry.” he said, his voice barely a whisper, a final echo of the love that had once been so vibrant between you.

You didn’t respond. There was nothing left to say. You turned, each step feeling heavier than the last as you walked away, leaving behind the remnants of a relationship that had once held so much promise. The door clicked shut behind you, the sound resonating like a chapter closing.

After that, he took all his stuff from your place and left. Even the keys. And you were glad he did. You were glad he wasn’t there. You blocked his number, you told your friends to stop relaying any messages from him he sent. You even cancelled any appearances with him for work, especially those for the Japanese leg of the press tour for Jujutsu Kaisen. 

And then you disappeared, as though you didn’t exist.

You moved apartments, you didn’t tell anyone where you were. Only your manager knew, just so you could make it easier for her to pick you up for work schedules when you start doing them again. And changed phones and deleted your social media presence. You just wanted to be alone. You wanted to process the death of a seven year relationship. 

Over half a year later, they start to see you again. The last they had seen you, you were still red-rimmed eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. You had explained that you dealt with some personal loss, which wasn’t untrue. People had speculations, they always have. But you didn’t want to admit to anything. You just let them have their fun and you let yourself have your grief. 

The mirror had become a stranger for a while, reflecting someone you barely recognized, a shadow of the person you once were with Toji. The truest you had been yourself was with him. And now you have lost that. You had lost the version of yourself you had loved so dearly. And you hated how that too had revolved around him. Your most beloved life was him.

You hadn't planned on disappearing, not really. But each day felt heavier, each step harder to take, until retreating into the quiet solace of your loneliness and grief became the only thing you could manage.

And everyone in your agency was understanding of that. You haven’t truly taken a break in your entire career. And with that burn out, as much as the heartache, you had to have your time to yourself.

Little by little, you started to pick yourself up from the ruins of the failed relationship. Little by little you found yourself able to breathe again, even though you were still against the crashing waves of pain. At the very least there was some progress. At least you were getting somewhere.

Though, you couldn’t escape him. How could you, when he was so beloved by the world? Every corner of your world seemed to echo with the ghost of him. His face, smiling and confident, stared down at you from every billboard, a constant reminder of what you had lost years of your life to. Years you were the prettiest to yourself.

His voice filled the airwaves, every interview a cruel twist of fate, his laughter a haunting melody that played on repeat in your mind. Fushiguro Toji. His name was a bittersweet whisper, both a comfort and a curse, lingering in the recesses of your heart.

No one else knew that you had broken up. It was a secret you held close, it was a grief that belonged to you and only you. It was a wound too fresh and raw to expose to the world.

You hadn’t found the courage to say anything, convinced that speaking it aloud would make it all too real. Besides, you believed you didn’t have to explain yourself to anyone. Your pain was yours alone, a private storm that no one else could weather.

As you walked through the winding streets of Tokyo, the city lights blurred against your vision, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. The vibrant energy of the city felt distant, a stark contrast to the numbness that enveloped you. The world moved on, oblivious to the turmoil within you.

No one understood what you felt. No one probably ever would. It wasn’t just the loss of a relationship; it was the loss of a dream, a shared future that had unraveled before your eyes. The quiet moments, the laughter, the unspoken promises. They were all gone, leaving behind an emptiness that you didn’t know how to fill.

You kept walking, the sounds of the city fading into the background, your mind a whirlwind of memories and emotions. The ache in your chest was a constant reminder of what once was, and what could never be again. But even in the midst of the pain, you knew you couldn’t stay hidden forever. Life was waiting, and somehow, you had to find a way to live it again.

The door to your apartment closed behind you with a soft click, but the silence inside felt deafening. You slipped off your shoes and let your bag fall to the floor, the weight of the day pressing heavily on your shoulders. The familiar surroundings felt foreign now, as if the air itself had shifted, carrying the remnants of memories you weren’t ready to face.

You wandered through the small space, your eyes scanning the room aimlessly. You knew you should do something, anything to distract yourself. So you started cleaning, hoping the mundane task would occupy your mind. You wiped down the counters, straightened the cushions, and folded the laundry. But every movement felt mechanical, your thoughts drifting back to him.

Then you saw it—his jacket. Your mouth went agape at the sight of it. It hung innocuously by the door, just as it always had when he would visit your apartment. You didn’t know you still had it, from the move. You didn’t know the movers packed it too. He didn’t take it with him when he left the house. 

You froze, your breath catching in your throat. It was the same jacket he had worn countless times, the one that carried his scent, a mixture of cologne and something uniquely him. Without thinking, you reached out, your fingers grazing the fabric.

The moment you touched it, the floodgates opened. The tears came fast and uncontrollable, pouring down your face as you clutched the jacket to your chest. You sank to the floor, the weight of your sorrow too much to bear.

The scent of him enveloped you, bringing back a rush of memories. His arms around you, his laugh, the way he would kiss your forehead when you were feeling down.

You cried for everything you had lost. For the love you had poured into a man who could never fully be yours. A man older, with a life that always seemed just out of reach. A man who cherished his independence, who was never truly tethered to you in the way you had hoped. You had given him your prettiest years, the best of yourself, only to be left with the pieces of a broken heart.

Tomorrow was the shoot, and you knew you had to pull yourself together. The contract was signed long before the breakup, back when you thought working together would be another way to share your dreams, your passions, your lives. Now, it was the weight pulling you into a reality you weren’t ready to face.

Tonight, the pain was too fresh, too overwhelming. How could you stop crying when every corner of your life was a reminder of him? When his presence still lingered in the smallest things, like a ghost haunting the spaces you once shared?

You stayed there, curled on the floor, clutching the jacket as the tears continued to fall. It wasn’t just about losing him. It was about losing the future you had imagined, the dreams you had built together.

And as the night stretched on, you let yourself grieve, knowing that somehow, you had to find the strength to face tomorrow. But for now, all you could do was cry.

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MORNING ALWAYS DOES COME. And when it does, you try to make the effort to still stand on your own two toes. When the morning came, exhausted and numb, there you were facing the inevitable.

You bowed to everyone, greeting them with as much enthusiasm as you could muster. You smiled as though there was no problem at all. Chattered and sat there on the make–up chair like nothing had happened. As if there was nothing at all that shattered you to nothing. 

The studio lights felt harsher than you remembered, their unforgiving brightness illuminating every inch of the set—and every crack in your heart. It was as if they knew, as if they were exposing the rawness inside you, the pain you had tried so hard to bury. The bustling crew moved around you, adjusting cameras, checking props, but their chatter seemed distant, muffled by the storm in your mind.

You couldn’t help but feel nervous, your hands trembling ever so slightly. It felt strange, almost surreal, like this was your first time stepping in front of the camera. You had done this a hundred times before, but today was different. 

Today, you were a different person. The warmth of reassurance that once came from a simple touch, his hand brushing against yours, his quiet, steady presence—was gone. You were on your own now, and the weight of that reality pressed down on you like a heavy cloak.

You swallowed hard, the bile rising in your throat as the familiar sting of tears threatened to break free. Your muscles tensed, contorting as you fought the overwhelming urge to let go, to release the tears that had been building up inside you. But you didn’t. You wouldn’t. You couldn’t let yourself fall apart here, not now.

Not now, you repeat to yourself, a mantra you clung to with every ounce of strength you had left. You didn’t want it. You didn’t want the tears, the loneliness, the pain. You didn’t need it. You had told yourself this over and over again. You didn’t need to feel this, not here, not under the glaring scrutiny of the studio lights and the watchful eyes of everyone around you.

Your breaths came in shallow, shaky gulps as you forced yourself to focus, to channel everything into the character you were about to portray. The lines blurred between the role you played and the person you were, but you clung to that thin line of separation, hoping it would hold. This was your sanctuary, your escape. If you could just hold on a little longer, maybe the pain wouldn’t consume you.

You could do this, you told yourself.

You could survive this, you know you could.

It’s only for a few weeks of this misery.

But as you lifted your eyes, you saw him again.

And all that resolve dissolved almost instantly.

Fushiguro Toji stood across the room, talking to the director, his usual charm evident in the way his shoulders shook with laughter. The sound of it, rich and familiar, carried across the set, drawing the attention of those nearby. He looked relaxed, his posture loose, his smile easy. He seemed to be in happy spirits, more than the last time you saw him.

It was a sharp contrast to the last memory you had of him—tense, conflicted, the weight of your shared history etched into every line of his face. But now, he seemed lighter, as if the burden of your breakup had lifted from his shoulders. The sight of him like this stirred a mix of emotions within you. Jealousy, sadness, and an aching longing you tried to suppress.

You watched from a distance, your gaze lingering longer than you intended. It was painful, seeing him so carefree, as if nothing had changed, as if the past weeks hadn’t unraveled you both. But there he was, moving through the room with an ease that seemed effortless, while you struggled to keep your composure.

The director clapped him on the back, and Toji’s laugh echoed again, brighter this time. You quickly averted your eyes, pretending to busy yourself with your script, but the image of him remained imprinted in your mind. It was harder than you thought it would be, being in the same space, breathing the same air, while feeling worlds apart.

For a moment, you wondered if he had truly moved on, or if this was just a façade, a mask to hide whatever he might still be feeling. But you pushed the thought away. It didn’t matter. What mattered now was surviving this day, this scene, and the countless others that would follow. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the inevitable interaction. You had to face him eventually.

The director’s voice cut through the low hum of the studio, calling for everyone to take their places. “Alright, let’s get started! Everyone, introduce yourselves before we begin.”

You took a deep breath, forcing your shoulders to relax as you stepped forward with the rest of the cast. The weight of the moment pressed heavily on your chest, but you reminded yourself to stay calm, to keep it together. 

Your eyes, however, betrayed you, flickering towards Toji for the briefest second before you snapped them away, focusing instead on a point somewhere beyond him. You were a professional. You had done this countless times before. You had been through worse—or so you told yourself. You could do this. You had to do this. 

As the introductions began, your turn loomed closer. Each name and face passed by in a blur until the spotlight shifted to you. You bowed to each and every one, smiling at them as best you could even though you couldn’t process it all just yet. 

“Hello, nice to meet you all!” you said, introducing yourself. Your voice is steady despite the storm within. “It’s great to be working with everyone.”

Your words were polite, professional, and utterly detached. At least you notice it. But the others didn’t seem to. You could see the blur in all their smiles towards you, shining in a way you couldn’t recognize. You barely registered the murmured responses of the others, your focus pinned on keeping your composure. Then it was Toji’s turn.

He stepped forward, his presence commanding as always. “Fushiguro Toji.” he said, his voice carrying effortlessly across the room. There was a familiar warmth in his tone, one that made your heart clench. “Looking forward to working with all of you.”

His blue–green eyes flicked to you, just for a moment, but it was enough to send a ripple of tension through your body. You held his gaze for a heartbeat longer than you intended, before quickly looking away, pretending to be engrossed in the script in your hands.

The director clapped his hands together, breaking the moment. “Alright, let’s dive into it! Remember, the first scene is a heavy scene, so take your time and feel it out. Call for a cut any time you want to. So let’s start, like we rehearsed.”

You nodded at the director. Everyone moved to their places, and you found yourself standing just a few feet away from Toji. The air between you felt charged, the unspoken history hanging like a shadow over the set. He glanced at you, his expression unreadable.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost cautious.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. “Yeah.” you murmured, your eyes fixed on the floor.

Toji hesitated for a moment, as if he wanted to say more, but the director called for action, and just like that, you were thrust into the scene. The lines between fiction and reality blurred once again, and all you could do was hold on and hope you made it through without falling apart.

As the cameras rolled and the scene began, you pushed everything else aside, locking the pain away in a corner of your heart. The studio lights continued to shine, harsh and unrelenting, but you stood your ground. You didn’t need your tears. You didn’t need your loneliness. All you needed was to make it through this moment. And somehow, you would.

The first scene couldn’t have been more ironic if the universe had written it itself. A husband and wife, embroiled in a bitter argument, their marriage on the brink of collapse. Every word in the script seemed like a cruel reflection of your own reality. The dialogue cut too close, each line a dagger, the emotions too raw to ignore.

You had told yourself you could handle it, that you could compartmentalize the character’s turmoil from your own. But as the words spilled from your lips, it felt as if the character had seized control of your body, dragging all your buried feelings to the surface, laying them bare for everyone to see.

“Why don’t you ever listen to me?” you shouted, your voice cracking with the weight of suppressed emotion. The accusation wasn’t just a line; it was a scream from your heart. “You’re always so wrapped up in your own world! What about us? What about me?”

The tears that pricked your eyes weren’t from the script. They were your own, threatening to fall, the pain of the breakup echoing in every syllable. Across from you, Toji’s eyes darkened, his expression hardening as he stepped into his character. His voice, sharp and filled with a familiar bitterness, mirrored your own anguish.

“Don’t act like I’m the only one who made mistakes!” he shot back, his tone rising, the frustration palpable. “You think it’s easy, carrying the weight of everything? Maybe if you tried to understand instead of blame—”

“Understand?” you interrupted, your voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. The sting in your eyes blurred your vision, but you pressed on. “I’ve tried! I’ve given everything, and it’s never enough for you!”

The room felt electric, the tension between you both so thick it was as if the air itself might shatter under the weight of it. Each word hung in the air, resonating with a truth neither of you could ignore.

The director’s voice called out, “Cut! Let’s take a moment.”

The tension didn’t dissipate with the end of the scene. It lingered, heavy and suffocating, as if the raw emotions couldn’t be contained by the simple call for a break. You stood there, your chest heaving with the effort of keeping your tears at bay, your hands clenched into fists at your sides.

Toji remained across from you, his jaw tight, his eyes still locked onto yours. For a moment, neither of you moved, as if frozen in the aftermath of the words that had been exchanged—not just between the characters, but between the two of you.

You stood frozen, your chest heaving as the emotions coursed through you. Toji turned to face you, his expression unreadable. You saw him take a step toward you, and panic clawed at your chest, but you forced yourself to stay put. Running away wouldn’t solve anything. You had to face this, face him.

“Hey.” Toji said softly, his voice gentler than it had been during the scene. “Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, nodding even though your body betrayed you with a slight tremble. “Yeah. Just… caught me off guard, that’s all.”

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to gauge how much of the scene was acting and how much was real. “It felt real.” he admitted, his tone cautious. “Too real.”

“Yeah.” You murmured, not looking at him. You didn’t want to. You didn’t know if you were prepared to just yet. 

The tension between you and Toji was palpable, thick like fog, clouding every inch of the set. You stood there, heart pounding, as the reality of the situation settled deeper into your bones. This was not just a fleeting moment; this was going to be every day, side by side, pretending like everything was fine when it was far from it.

Toji shifted on his feet, his usual confidence seemingly faltering as he took in your guarded expression. “I didn’t think you’d come today.” he admitted, his voice lower, more vulnerable than you remembered. “Thought you’d call in sick.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I have a job to do.” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Besides….you showed up too.”

Silence befell the two of you after those words. You started fidgeting with your fingers, something you would do when you were nervous. As you feel your throat closed up, you purse your lips into a flat line. You thought it was time to walk away, to take your time away from him before the next take.

Finally, Toji broke the silence, stepping closer, his voice lower but no less intense. “It was just acting.” he said, his tone softer, almost vulnerable. “I’m sorry for my tone.”

You swallowed hard, your throat constricting. “So was I.” You whispered, your voice barely audible. 

The tears you had been holding back now threatened to spill over, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of him. Toji’s gaze grew softer as he looked at you, the anger from the take earlier melting into something more akin to sorrow. Something you think you were more familiar with.

“I didn’t want things to end that way.” He admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“Can we not talk about it—”

“But I want to.” He tells you in his retort, abruptly cutting you off. “I need to. I want to fix everything.”

“You can’t fix everything. You should know that.” you replied, your words trembling as they left your lips. “I don’t know if I can ever forget that.”

He nodded slowly, his expression one of deep regret. “I know.”

Silence grew once more between the two of you. 

You could feel the tears pricking your eyes harshly.

And you could tell that he was noticing as much as you.

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to the floor before meeting yours again. “I’m glad you’re here….at least.” he said quietly, sincerity lacing his words. “I know it’s hard, but maybe… maybe we can find a way to make this work.”

You almost laughed, the irony of it all hitting you. “Make this work?” you repeated, your voice tinged with disbelief. “You mean like how we were supposed to make us work?”

Toji winced, the pain in your words cutting through him. “I didn’t mean it like that, you know that.” he said softly. “Look, I….I know I hurt you. I know things didn’t go the way we wanted. But this project… it’s important to both of us. Can we at least try to be civil? For the sake of the work?”

You bit your lip, torn between the urge to lash out and the need to maintain some semblance of professionalism. “Civil.” you echoed, testing the word on your tongue. “I guess we can try.”

He offered a small, hesitant smile. “Thank you.”

A tense silence settled again before he spoke once more. “Look, I don’t want to make things harder than they already are. If you need space, I’ll give it to you. Just... don’t shut me out completely.”

Your heart ached at his words, but you forced yourself to stay composed. “Space would be good.” you agreed, your voice firmer now. “Let’s just focus on the work. That’s all we need to do.”

Toji nodded, accepting your terms. “Okay. Work it is.”

The director called for everyone to reset for the next take, but the two of you remained locked in place, the world around you fading into the background. It was a moment of unspoken understanding, a shared pain that neither of you could fully articulate. As the crew moved around you, preparing for the next shot, Toji took a step back, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer. 

“Let’s get through this.” he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that spoke of more than just the scene ahead. “We owe it to ourselves.”

You nodded, unable to speak, and turned away. Your assistant handed you the script once again and you found yourself trying to focus on the script in your hands. The show had to go on, but the lines between fiction and reality had never felt so blurred.

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, a mix of relief and sorrow washing over you. This was your new reality. It probably always will, when people like your chemistry together. 

You are going to be stuck working side by side with the man who broke your heart. But as you watched him go, you realized something: you weren’t the same person you were before. You had been broken, yes, but you were also stronger now.

You knew that. And maybe, just maybe, that strength would see you through this. You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders. The day had only just begun. But you were praying that he doesn’t look at you with that look in his eyes again. 

══════════════════

DAYS ON SET BECAME A NEW STANDARD OF LIVING. You haven’t been sure you were used to it yet after a long time away, but you were sure about to get there. At least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself.

As the days turned into weeks, the rhythm of the shoot became oddly familiar. Early morning calls, practice for heavy scenes, dress rehearsal, the chaos of set preparation, and the god awful long night to morning shoots. 

This was the relentless cycle of takes transformed into your new daily standard routine. You and Toji fell into an unspoken pattern between the two of you, though. But you had to be, if you wanted to keep your jobs. It was a strange thing to witness, if one was being honest. It took a lot of effort to memorize the dance. And every bit of that was equal parts effortless and exhausting. 

On the surface, you were professionals—co-workers delivering lines, executing roles, keeping up appearances. Especially him, he was your senpai too. He was good at maintaining that mask on him more than you were. 

But beneath the polished veneer, tension simmered, weaving itself into every glance, every exchange, every shared silence. You could tell just by looking at his eyes. No one else but you could do that, after all.

The studio became your shared battlefield, its walls echoing with unspoken words. You threw yourself into the work, burying raw emotions beneath layers of performance day after day.

But when the director yelled for the cut, you knew that the veil dropped most instantaneously. And that always leaves you vulnerable to the presence of the man who had once been your everything. 

Fushiguro Toji was close enough to touch yet felt a world away from you. And you were certain that he felt the same way about you too. After all, you had a wall he couldn’t reach. You wouldn’t let him reach it. There was no way for him to know what to do with you. 

But this doesn’t stop you from looking. Nor did it stop him from doing the same thing. You had noticed everything about him and what he does. It was obvious how hard it is to be exes on set. It was even harder when you were soulmates. 

There was the slight hesitation in his laugh, the way his smile sometimes faltered at the edges. He was both familiar and foreign, a stranger wearing a face you had loved. Everything about him was something you knew and everything about him was something that was a mystery. It was a really intriguing thing. And that was the worst thing of all. You were intrigued about the man you loved and hated all at once.

Conversations were sparse at first, clinical and focused on the work. You both clung to professionalism like a lifeline, avoiding anything that might hint at the depth of your shared history. The lines were clear: scenes, blocking, timing, delivery. Anything beyond that was dangerous territory.

You were determined to keep things professional, to relegate your relationship to the sterile confines of work. But no matter how hard you tried, the walls you’d built between yourselves began to splinter under the weight of the unspoken.

The first crack came during a late-night shoot. The two of you stood under the harsh glow of the heavy set lights, running through lines while the crew adjusted the framing. Toji, leaning casually against a prop table, smirked at a mistake you made while stumbling over a particularly convoluted line.

“That’s the third time now.” he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear. There was a teasing edge to it, but it was softer than you remembered.

You shot him a sharp look. “Thanks for keeping count.” you replied, your tone clipped, though your lips twitched against your will.

His smirk widened, but there was no malice in it, just a faint warmth. “You’re welcome. I thought I’d help out since you seem… preoccupied.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing him off. “Preoccupied with carrying this scene, maybe.”

The banter was fleeting, but it lingered in the air long after the cameras rolled again. Once again, you did the best you could and continued to bring your spirits up. As the night progressed, the director started to feel a little bit more satisfied with one or two shots. And that had at least allowed you the hope of going to sleep soon.

Later, during one of the scene changes, you caught him watching you as you adjusted your new  costume. He didn’t look away quickly enough, and your eyes met. For a moment, the distance between you felt less insurmountable, the years of hurt and silence shrinking into the space of a single glance. That glance was the longest moment of your life, you were sure.

“What?” you asked, a touch defensive, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated, as if debating whether to respond, then shrugged. “Nothing. You just… remind me of something.”

You wanted to press him, to ask what he meant, but the vulnerability in his expression stopped you. His eyes, usually so guarded, were uncharacteristically soft, as if he was on the verge of saying something he couldn’t quite bring himself to voice.

Instead of pushing, you turned back to the mirror, pretending not to notice the way his gaze lingered, tracing the reflection of your face as though searching for something. It was recognition, understanding, forgiveness.

But then you caught yourself. The silence was becoming unbearable, the air between you thick with things neither of you dared to say. You cleared your throat, the sound breaking the tension like a sharp crack in the stillness. 

“We should start rehearsing.” you said, your voice steady, though your heart was racing. “For the scene.”

For a moment, Toji didn’t respond. He seemed to weigh your words, as though deciding whether to challenge the sudden shift or let it go. Finally, he tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing in quiet disbelief.

“...Are you comfortable doing that with me?” he asked, his tone careful, hesitant. It wasn’t the confident Toji you remembered, the one who always seemed so sure of himself, even when everything around him was chaotic. This was different—softer, almost unsure.

You hesitated, the question throwing you off balance. There was a part of you that wanted to lash out, to let him know how much his presence still affected you, how rehearsing with him wasn’t just work. But you swallowed it down, forcing yourself to focus on the here and now.

“Yeah, why not?” you replied, shrugging as though it didn’t matter. Your tone was light, almost dismissive, but the tension in your voice betrayed you.

Toji’s lips twitched, not quite a smile but not entirely neutral either. “Why not, huh….” he echoed softly, more to himself than to you. He took a step closer, crossing into your personal space but stopping just short of overstepping. 

“Okay.” he said finally, his voice steady now, though his eyes still carried that flicker of something unresolved. “Let’s rehearse.”

You nodded, turning away from the mirror and moving toward the small table where the script sat. You busied yourself with flipping through the pages, anything to avoid looking at him directly. But you knew, you could feel it — he was looking at you and only you.

As you both settled into the familiar rhythm of line-reading, the tension between you didn’t fade entirely, but it softened, shaped by the shared focus on the work. There were moments, brief but poignant, where you caught glimpses of the man you had once known in the way he delivered a line or the way he watched you deliver yours. 

Yet you knew when you said these things, you knew it would be bad. You knew they would hit too close to home, too personal. And that was what happened. When the two of you were finally shooting the emotional scene, it was more real than your practice and perhaps, that’s what fueled your acting. 

The dialogue was heavy, charged with the kind of raw emotion that mirrored your real-life tension a little too closely. It was a confrontation scene this time around—a breaking point between two lovers teetering on the edge of collapse. As you delivered the lines you had practiced, the words felt too personal, too sharp, cutting into wounds that hadn’t fully healed. And you hated it.

“That’s all you ever do, isn’t it?” your character accused, the anger in your voice reverberating through the silent set. “You push people away the second they get too close. You think it’s easier to walk away than to face what you’ve done.”

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel every pair of eyes in the room on you, the weight of the moment pressing down like a vice. But your focus was on Toji.

He stood across from you, his character’s guilt written across his face, but there was something else there—something unspoken that made your chest tighten. Somehow, it was his real face. Somehow, it was his truest blossom of regret.

The director called for a break, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. The crew scattered, murmuring amongst themselves, but the energy in the room remained electric, charged with the kind of intensity that couldn’t simply be switched off.

You turned away quickly, grabbing a water bottle from the craft table. Your hands were trembling slightly, your pulse still racing. You focused on the coolness of the bottle against your skin, anything to ground yourself, to pull you out of the emotional spiral the scene had sent you into.

“You okay?” Toji’s voice came from behind you, quiet but insistent.

You stiffened, refusing to turn around. “I’m fine. Just… in the scene.”

“Right.” he said, but there was a note of skepticism in his voice. “You sure that’s all it is?”

Something in his tone made you snap. You spun around to face him, your eyes blazing. “Why? Do you think I’m talking about you?”

Toji’s jaw tightened, his posture rigid. For a moment, his mask of calm slipped, and the vulnerability beneath it was laid bare. “I don’t know.” he said, his voice low and even. “Are you?”

The question hung between you, the weight of it almost unbearable. His gaze locked onto yours, unflinching, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you standing there, raw and exposed.

“What if I was?” you shot back, your voice quieter now, but no less sharp. “Would it even matter?”

His lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, neither of you willing to back down, yet both too afraid to fully engage. Before either of you could break the impasse, a crew member approached, clipboard in hand. 

“We’re resetting for the next take.” they announced, oblivious to the charged atmosphere. “Five minutes.”

You tore your gaze away from Toji, nodding curtly at the crew member and quietly thanked them before turning on your heel and walking away. Your footsteps echoed in the cavernous studio, each one feeling heavier than the last.

As you retreated to the corner of the set, you could feel Toji’s eyes on you, his presence lingering like a ghost. Even as the crew busied themselves with preparations and the director barked instructions, the tension between you remained, an invisible thread pulling tauter with every passing moment.

You leaned against a prop, exhaling shakily, trying to center yourself. The scene was over, but the emotions it had stirred up were still thrumming through your veins. And as much as you tried to tell yourself otherwise, you knew this wasn’t just about the script. This was about the two of you—about all the things you’d left unsaid and all the wounds that still refused to heal.

══════════════════

YOU HADN’T READ THE NEXT PART OF THE SCRIPT YET. You had been too emotionally exhausted about what you had been doing for work that you had put off reading the script. Which was fine, you were able to memorize things easily when you see it long enough. That’s why you have this sort of career in the first place.

So the next morning, you arrived on set early with your manager. You greeted everyone as you were clutching your script tightly in your hands. Your manager quickly greeted everyone and went to you, before telling you that he’ll get you both coffee from the coffee truck. You nodded at her, telling her that you’ll just be sitting on the trailer.

It had become a habit, one you told yourself was about preparation — ‘it will work out’; but deep down you knew it was also a way to mentally brace yourself for whatever the day might bring. You have told yourself that phrase for years now, but perhaps, it  didn’t hit as hard as it has now. Much more because you were working with the man you were in a relationship with for quite a lot of years. 

Working with Fushiguro Toji was a constant balancing act, teetering on the edge of professionalism and the unresolved tension that hung between you like a storm cloud storming away with its raging thunder and its hurling battering rains. That was just what it was, when you were working with someone you still had unresolved issues with. 

You settled into your usual corner, flipping through the script for the day’s scenes. You moved to take the pen from your bag, and started highlighting things you wanted to work on and things you wanted to ask for feedback from the director. As you skimmed the pages, your eyes caught on a block of stage directions that made your stomach drop. A part you hadn’t seen just yet.

Hiruka steps closer to Suzaku, their faces just barely inches apart. The tension between them is palpable, one that pushes them together like gravity and after a beat, they kiss.

Your mouth went agape at what you had just read. This was not what you expected. You clutched your heart, feeling how it skipped a beat. For a moment, you just stared at the words, as if doing so would somehow make them disappear. But they didn’t. The scene was there, in black and white, unavoidable.

"Everything okay?" a voice broke through your thoughts. One of the assistant directors, passing by with a clipboard, glanced at you with mild concern. 

You forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah. Just going over the script.”

She nodded, already distracted by another crew member waving her down, and you exhaled slowly, your mind racing. You haven't kissed Toji since… well, since before everything had fallen apart. 

The idea of doing it now, even in character, felt like reopening a wound you’d barely managed to scab over. Even though it had been six, seven months since the breakup, the thought still wasn’t something you had gotten used to. The memories of what had been lingered like a ghost, haunting the edges of your mind whenever you let your guard down.

But then again, no one knew you were dating. To everyone else, you were just friends. Friends and co-workers. That was the story they had always known, the one you had carefully curated and protected. It wasn’t their fault—they didn’t see the quiet moments shared off-set, the way his hand used to linger on yours, the stolen kisses behind closed doors, the whispered promises of something that had felt so certain at the time.

You… you weren’t ready to tell anyone. The idea of opening up that part of your life to the world had felt too vulnerable, too risky. So you had kept it quiet, only sharing the truth with a handful of people you trusted—close friends who had sworn to keep your secret. Back then, it had felt like the right choice, like something sacred and yours to guard.

Now, though, it felt like a double-edged sword. No one on set knew about the history between you and Toji, which meant no one understood how charged this scene truly was. They didn’t know how much it would take to get through it without letting the weight of the past seep into every glance, every word, every touch. To them, it was just another part of the job.

But to you? To you, it was a reckoning.

You rubbed your temples, trying to shake the thought away, but it clung to you stubbornly. You were here to work, to act, to tell a story. You had gotten through every other scene with Toji, no matter how tense or emotionally taxing it had been. You could get through this one too.

Couldn’t you?

Your internal spiral was interrupted when Fushiguro Toji walked onto the set, his usual calm demeanor in place. He spotted you almost immediately and gave a slight nod in greeting, but his expression shifted when he noticed the look on your face.

“Something wrong?” he asked as he approached, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You hesitated, holding up the script instead of answering. “Have you read today’s scenes?”

He frowned slightly, taking the script from your hand and flipping through it. You watched his blue–green eyes scan the page one after another, his expression shifting from neutral to surprised and then to something you couldn’t quite place.

“Oh.” he said simply, his voice unreadable.

“Yeah.” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh.”

Toji closed the script, handing it back to you. “Well….” he began, his tone measured. “It’s part of the job, right?”

His casual response made your irritation flare. “Don’t act like this is nothing.” you shot back, keeping your voice low but firm. “You know it’s not. Not with us.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m not saying it’s nothing. I’m saying we’ve done this before. We’re professionals for a reason. We’ll handle it.”

The word professionals felt like a jab, as if he was reminding you that whatever was between you didn’t matter anymore. You opened your mouth to argue but stopped yourself, biting back the words. Instead, you took a step back, putting more space between you.

“I just... wasn’t expecting it.” you admitted, your voice softer now. “I guess I should do more reading on the script before I say yes. But then again, we were together before this. I would have thought differently if we were….”

You stopped yourself from saying anything. You sighed as you took the script back from him, not looking at him. You fumble through the script once again, stopping at where you were reading earlier. For a moment, Toji didn’t respond. He simply watched you, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded. 

“Neither was I. But maybe it’s a good thing.”

You frowned. “How could this possibly be a good thing?”

“Because….” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “If we can get through this, we can get through anything else this job throws at us.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond to him whatsoever. There was a sincerity in his tone that caught you off guard, a reminder of the man you used to know, a man you once loved—the one who could somehow say the exact thing you needed to hear, even when you didn’t want to hear it.

“Let’s just get it over with.” you muttered finally, turning away to avoid meeting his gaze. You hoped the words would end the conversation, but Toji, ever persistent, wasn’t ready to let it drop. “As soon as possible.”

“Are we going to rehearse—”

“We are not going to rehearse kissing.” you interrupted sharply, spinning back toward him with a pointed glare before he could finish the thought.

He blinked, momentarily startled by your tone, then raised his hands in a mock gesture of surrender. “Okay, okay. No rehearsing. he said, his voice calm but edged with a hint of amusement. “I wasn’t going to push it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, still skeptical. “I mean it. We know how to kiss for work. It’s technical, not personal. We’ll hit our marks, make it look convincing, and that’s it.”

“Got it.” he replied, his tone unreadable. But the faint twitch of a smirk at the corner of his mouth betrayed him, and it made your chest tighten with a mix of irritation and something far more complicated.

“I’m serious, Toji.” you added, folding your arms across your chest. “This doesn’t have to be a thing. Let’s just focus on the scene and move on.”

He tilted his head, his gaze softening just slightly. “I know. I’m not trying to make it a thing, I promise.” he said quietly. “But it’s not like we can pretend it doesn’t feel... different.”

You froze, his words hitting you harder than you expected. Different. Of course, it felt different. How could it not? You had kissed him before, really kissed him. Many countless times in another life, when things had been simpler, when you weren’t standing on opposite sides of an invisible wall you’d both helped build.

But you couldn’t let yourself dwell on that now. Shaking your head, you turned back toward the set. “It doesn’t matter.” you said, more to yourself than to him. “It’s just a scene, Toji. That’s all it is.”

You didn’t wait for his response as you walked away, but you felt the weight of his gaze on your back, heavy and lingering. And as much as you tried to push it down, you couldn’t shake the sense that, for Toji, it might not be just a scene after all. You looked for your manager. 

You needed to get that coffee from her as soon as possible. 

And perhaps, a donut. You need enough sugar to get through the day.

And so you let hours pass by, trying to get the idea of the kiss off your mind. You were not going to think about it until you had to. That’s what you tell yourself. But you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

How will it happen? How will you end up lasting with how he would touch you? How could you keep this professional? You shook your head. You hated how much you were getting too into this.

When you finally make it off to set once again, you find yourself overwhelmed already. After going through the worst of thoughts while on the makeup chair, you couldn’t help but feel even worse here.

The set was quiet as the crew adjusted the lights and cameras for the upcoming scene. You stood off to the side, arms crossed, your script clutched tightly in one hand. The weight of what was about to happen pressed on you like a physical force, making it hard to breathe.

Toji was across the room, leaning casually against a prop table as the makeup artist gave him a last touch-up. He looked calm. Too calm, like this was just another day, another scene. Like there was nothing to freak out about. It irritated you. How could he be so composed when every nerve in your body felt like it was on edge?

Soon enough, the director called for everyone to take their places. You moved to your mark, heart pounding. Fushiguro Toji approached, his steps measured, his expression unreadable. The tension between you thickened as the cameras rolled into position, and the director gave the signal to begin.

The scene started smoothly enough. The dialogue flowed naturally, your voices blending together in a rhythm you had mastered over weeks of working together. But as the emotional intensity of the scene built, you felt the lines between acting and reality begin to blur.

“That’s all you ever do, isn’t it?” you said, your voice trembling with both your character’s anger and something far more personal. “You push people away the second they get too close. You think it’s easier to walk away than to face what you’ve done.”

Toji stepped closer, his character’s frustration mirroring something unspoken in his own eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” he shot back, his voice low, dangerous. “You don’t know what it’s like to carry this kind of weight.”

“I don’t know?” you snapped, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t know, because I was there. I was always there.”

The director hadn’t called the cut, so you kept going, even though your hands were trembling and your breath was coming faster than it should have been. Toji’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might break character. But then he stepped even closer, closing the gap between you.

And then it happened as naturally as breathing —the kiss.

It started the way it was supposed to, his hands lightly brushing against your arms as he leaned in, his lips meeting yours with the perfect mix of tension and tenderness. But as the seconds ticked by, something shifted. The scene was supposed to end with a brief, restrained kiss. I twas just enough to convey the characters’ unresolved feelings. But Toji didn’t pull back, and neither did you.

Instead, the kiss deepened even more, the intensity between you igniting like a spark meeting gasoline. Fire blossoming in the spark of that gasoline, over and over as you both push and pull.

His hand moved to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in a way that felt far too familiar, far too real. Your hands, which were meant to stay at your sides, found their way to his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if you were anchoring yourself to him.

The room around you faded from your reality. The set, the cameras, the crew—it all disappeared as the kiss pulled you under, dredging up emotions you thought you’d buried. Pain, longing, regret. All of it crashed over you in an overwhelming wave, pushing and pulling you towards him.

“Cut!” the director finally called, his voice sharp enough to break through the haze.

You and Toji  finally let loose and separated abruptly, both of you breathing hard. The room was silent except for the faint hum of the equipment and the muffled sounds of crew members shuffling around. No one said anything, but the charged atmosphere was impossible to ignore.

The director, who had been watching the monitors intently, clapped his hands together. “That was… intense.” he said, nodding approvingly. “Let’s reset and do one more take.”

You couldn’t meet anyone’s gaze, least of all Toji’s, as you stepped back to your mark. Your lips still tingled, and your heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of your chest. As the crew moved around you, resetting for the next take, 

Toji leaned in close, his voice low so only you could hear. “You okay?”

You nodded stiffly, refusing to look at him. “I’m fine.”

But you weren’t. And as you prepared to shoot the scene again, you couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever had just happened wasn’t just acting—it was something far more dangerous. Many things were pushing through your mind over and over again. Things you shouldn’t think about. People you shouldn’t think about. 

You touch your lips, before stopping and closing your eyes to take a breath. Toji was still looking at you, as though trying to make sure you were alright. But you couldn’t be coherent, you couldn’t think straight. Not when his lips tasted like forbidden fruit, from paradise, from heaven.

The moment the director called for another take, you felt your chest constrict. You couldn’t do it again—not right away, not with how raw everything felt. Your hands were trembling, your head spinning, and your heart still hadn’t slowed from the intensity of the scene—or the kiss.

“I need a break, director.” you muttered, barely audible, before turning and walking off set without waiting for a response. “Please….I…”

You started to move before you could register it. You ignored the crew members and assistants milling about, their curious glances following you as you navigated through the maze of equipment and props.

You didn’t stop until you found a quiet corner near the back of the lot, where the noise of the set faded into a distant hum. Leaning against a wall, you exhaled shakily, pressing your hands against your temples as you tried to steady yourself.

You didn’t hear him approach, but you felt his presence before he spoke.

“Hey.” Toji’s voice was soft but steady, cutting through the silence.

You stiffened, not turning around. “I just need a minute.”

“I know that.” he replied, his tone careful, as though he were trying not to spook you. “I just… wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You scoffed, your laugh bitter and hollow. “Why do you care if I’m okay?”

His footsteps grew closer until he was standing just a few feet away. “Because I do.” he said simply. “I always have. You know that.”

You spun around to face him, your frustration bubbling over. “You don’t get to do that, Toji. You don’t get to pretend like everything’s fine, like you care, after everything—”

“I’m not pretending!” he interrupted, his voice rising just enough to cut you off. His jaw was tight, his expression pained. “You think this is easy for me? You think I wanted any of this to happen?”

“You walked away, Toji.” you shot back, your voice shaking. “You made your choice. And now you’re acting like—like—”

“Like what?” he challenged, stepping closer. “Like I regret it? Because I do. I regret everything, alright? But I can’t change the past. I can’t undo what I did. All I can do is try to…” He trailed off, his fists clenching at his sides.

“Try to do what?” you demanded, your own anger simmering beneath the surface. “Make yourself feel better? Redeem yourself? Because that’s not how it works, Toji. You don’t just get to show up and act like we can fix this with one stupid kiss!”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do.” he said, his voice softening, though the intensity in his eyes didn’t waver. “I just… I miss you.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You wanted to look away from him, but you can’t. How could you, when he was looking at you like that? Like he still sees you to be the only one for him. Like he still loves you most in this world.

“Toji…” you started, but your voice cracked, and you couldn’t finish the sentence.

His gaze flicked to your lips, then back to your eyes, his expression torn. “Tell me to stop.” he murmured, taking another step forward. “If you don’t want this, just say the word, and I’ll walk away.”

You wanted to say it. No, you wanted to scream at him. You wanted to push him away and shove him and be angry with him, to tell him that you were done, that the past was the past and there was no going back. That you do not love him anymore. But the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, when he closed the distance between you, cupping your face with his hands, you didn’t pull away. His lips found yours, and the kiss was nothing like the one on set. It was desperate and unguarded, filled with all the things neither of you had been able to say.

Your hands clung to the fabric of his shirt, almost as if you needed the physical contact to ground yourself. The kiss deepened as your body pressed against his, the tension between you both crackling in the space that had once been filled with affection and now was choked with pain and unresolved emotion. His lips were insistent, hungry in a way that told you just how long he had been holding this back. The rawness of it, the desperation, sent a shiver down your spine.

His hands moved to the back of your neck, his fingers curling into your hair as if he were afraid you’d slip away again. When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, both of you stood there, forehead to forehead, your breaths heavy and unsteady. The world around you was a distant blur, and all that mattered was the way his chest rose and fell against yours.

The silence was suffocating, yet neither of you moved to speak. You couldn’t find the words, couldn’t find the strength to pull away from him again. He, too, seemed frozen in the moment, as if this brief touch of something real had left him equally shaken. But then, before you could fully collect yourself, he pulled you even closer. His body heat, his scent, enveloping you in the tight space between you.

Your eyes met once more. This time, there was no confusion, no uncertainty. The vulnerability in his gaze mirrored your own, and for just a heartbeat, you both let the walls crumble just enough to see each other for what you were—people who had been broken, but still searching for something to hold on to.

And then, his lips were on yours again, more forceful this time, as though he couldn’t hold back any longer, as though the weight of everything between you was too much to bear in silence. You didn’t pull away. You couldn’t. 

The emotions inside you were tangled, each one vying for dominance. Hurt, longing, anger, and something deeper. A desperate need to feel something other than the emptiness that had been haunting you both for months.

His hands slid lower, tracing the line of your back, and you gasped against his mouth as your body pressed into his more firmly. It felt dangerous, reckless, but in that moment, you didn’t care. There was something that felt like freedom in this chaotic, emotional storm that you both had been trying so hard to avoid.

But it wasn’t just about the kiss. It was about everything that led to this point. The unfinished conversations, the words you both kept swallowing, the feelings you couldn’t express. His lips softened against yours for just a moment before he pulled back slightly, his face inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“I don’t know how to fix this.” he murmured, his voice rough, laden with frustration. "But I need you to know... I never stopped caring."

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat ringing in your ears. You swallowed hard, blinking away the tears threatening to fall. "Then why did you leave?" you whispered, barely able to keep your voice steady.

His eyes darkened, his face tightening with regret. “Because I was scared,” he said, the words slow, deliberate. “I thought I could push it all down, but it just… it just made everything worse.”

You could feel his hands trembling against your back, his words raw with honesty. And for a moment, you let the weight of that honesty sink in.

“I don’t know what this is,” you whispered, your voice breaking as you fought the lump in your throat. “But I can’t pretend it doesn’t hurt.”

Toji’s thumb brushed over your cheek, and you could feel the conflict in him—he wanted to comfort you, to make things right, but you both knew there were no easy fixes, no simple words that could undo the damage done.

“I know,” he said softly, his voice full of sorrow. “I know, but I’ll be here. I’ll be here until you decide if you want to give me a chance to make it right.”

Your eyes fluttered closed as you rested your forehead against his, the exhaustion of the emotional rollercoaster threatening to overtake you. You weren’t sure what this meant, what the future held, but in that moment, you allowed yourself to feel it. 

The rawness, the tension, the connection. The kiss wasn’t just a kiss—it was a fragile promise, a silent acknowledgment that, despite everything, there was still something worth fighting for between you.

But you both knew that this wasn’t the end. It was only the beginning of something uncertain, something that would require more than a kiss to fix. But for now, you didn’t need answers. You just needed this. This seesaw game. 

The more you were on this seesaw, the more you got to him. The more he’s here with you, locked in this cage of your own toxic desires. His touch, his presence, and the understanding that, for the first time in a long while, maybe you weren’t as alone as you thought.

“This doesn’t change anything.” you whispered, though your voice lacked conviction.

“I know.” he said softly. “But it doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying.”

You closed your eyes, trying to block out the rush of emotions flooding through you, but it was no use. Whatever had just happened, whatever this was. It wasn’t over. And you weren’t sure if that terrified you or gave you hope. Because it means you were no better. Your resolve crumbled so easily. How could you, when it was him? 

“We have to go back to the set.” You whispered to him. 

“Let them wait.” He whispers back to you, his breath hot against you.

That’s how you ended up back in his trailer, under him just like you had been six months ago. You had all but abandoned everything outside the door. From your mic packs left on that corner wall a few meters away, to the costume clothes left on the fridges of the trailer door. 

Your lips echoed loud moaning ripples that could embarrass you had you cared enough for it at that moment. But you didn’t. All you cared about was the pleasure of being underneath him, being choked by his figure pressed against you as you squirm over and over again with the breath you didn’t have against his firm grasp. 

All you could do was wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to where the sweat and the drool mixed onto you over and over again. With every tug to pull him closer, you found yourself being pummeled with his member deeper over and over again — taking away the dry spell that had kept your resolve for the past six months.

You could feel him burn you inside, searing you whole with the sheer size of him, taking over every inch of your crevices as though it belonged there. As though all of you were made for all of him.

You couldn’t help but release another moan, feeling your insides close against him, as your inner thighs quivered against the side of his waist repeatedly. The force of his thrusts were so strong that you were sure the bed was going to break.

His fingerprints were being engraved against your thighs with the way he pushes against your flesh, keeping you intertwined in this vicious downfall with him. Toji couldn’t help but laugh as he pressed closer against your body, the build of his cock sliding through your tummy and he could feel it. He felt proud of it. No one knew how to make you feel this electrifying feeling of being alive the way he could. No one else. And you knew that too well. 

Calluses started to form on your reddening skin, pelted with golden sweat as he pulled in and out of you with the speed of a thunderstrike. One moment he’s into the point you could feel him down your throat choking and the next, it felt like you were freed from the vestiges of being full of everything heavy, only to feel so empty that you long for him to choke you whole with his cock. 

And he does. Repeatedly. Over and over again, until you are on the verge of tears you know you shed because of the pleasure you succumb to, to your shame. To your love, to your desires. To him. No, for him.

Because you knew, no one else can love you like this. No one else can make a mess of you like this. No one else can make you feel so whole and broken all at once that it breaks you into many pieces.

You found yourself clawing at his back, successive moans with your breaking tone sounding like music to his ears. He hums in acceptance of the pain, trying to keep his composure as your nails bring blood streaming down his back. You move slowly to bite his shoulder, deep and whole and raw. You find him grunting slowly at the pain of it. You dug so deep that you knew you also drew blood there too.

You find him accepting it knowing that this is your love. This is the love that you have for him. And it will never change anymore. You wanted to love him and love him to the point he hurts. You want him to hurt. You want him to cry. You want him to bleed. Because how dare he make love to you, knowing you didn’t want to be hurt by loving him?

“I hate you.” You cry to him, his blood metallic in your tongue. You cry again, in between your incoherent moans. “I hate you more than anything in the world.”

“I love you.” He whispers to you over and over again, digging deeper into you that he has carved a home in you. “I love you. More than anything. More than life itself.”

You cry at his words. Because you knew they were true. You knew that he does love you. And yet you don’t want to be with him. You don’t want to let him back in. But he is here, with you. He is you, in you. He was everything that encompasses you. He was your first love. He was your first everything. And you can’t take it back. You can’t unlove him, even for your own good. Not even if the heavens wanted you to.

Toji couldn’t help but snarl as he pushes deeper and deeper, his sound animalistic and raw. He was close. You know this too well, once he stops talking. He devotes himself to the task. He pushes through over and over, the beckoning of his thrusts growing more erratic as he nears his peak.

But you knew him too well. He never comes inside of you without making sure you get your fill first. His long fingers reach down to where you're joined, finding your clit and rubbing in tight circles that send jolts of electricity shooting up your spine.

“T–toji!” You cry out loud, arching deeper into his touch as the pleasure coiling on your belly echoing over and over. You could feel his fingers work you perfectly, expertly as he pushes through over and over as he pushes his masterful fingers and his thrusting hips. “I….I’m….I’m close!”

"That's it, baby. Come for me too." he coaxes, his voice a low rasp in your ear. "Let me feel this pretty pussy squeeze the cum out of me."

He only gets this way when he finds himself close, his words disappearing into the reality of pleasure with you. You push against him, throwing your head back against the pillows. You shatter with a keening moan, your walls clamping down around Toji’s shaft as ecstasy crashes over you in waves.

He follows moments later with a guttural groan, pumping you full of his hot seed. You were shaking as you cling to him tightly, mewling softly against his shoulder blades. You could feel his body heavier against you as you both rode out the aftershocks, still gasping and twitching with the intensity of your shared climax.

As the fog of passion clears, you slowly come back to yourself, awareness returning in increments. You purse your lips as he presses kisses against your neck and then your jaw and then your cheeks. The warmth of his seed seeping off you as your hands loosen their hold on his body.

“We can’t do this again.” You whisper to him exhaustedly.

“I know.” He whispers back to you, his eyes shot with the look of love. Or was it lust? You could not tell. “I know.”

But you knew you were both lying to yourselves. 

He was going to come back again and again.

And you would let him in, just as you had now.

══════════════════

YOU HAD SAID YOU DIDN’T WANT TO PARTICIPATE IN ANY PRESS TOURS. It had taken a while before you had even budged to the demands of the director. But you knew that you couldn’t admit that to be a resolve without the act. All Toji had to do was ask you, in his own way and you knew you would say yes. And you hated that it was the case. 

As the lights of the red carpet flickered around you, you smiled, the cameras flashing as you and Fushiguro Toji posed side by side. His presence, tall and imposing, was the perfect foil to your poised elegance, but inside, you felt something altogether different. It was truly a quiet storm of conflicting emotions that you could barely contain.

The interviewer, enthusiastic and bright-eyed, approached you both with a microphone. “You two are the talk of the town! After months of speculation, you’ve finally confirmed your relationship with that press announcement. How does it feel to have it all out in the open?”

You met the interviewer’s gaze, your smile steady, though you could feel the weight of the question pressing against your chest. You exchanged a brief glance with Toji, his expression unreadable. He gave a small nod, as if reassuring you to continue, but you knew the truth—there was nothing to reassure, nothing to calm.

“We’re happy to finally share our truth, really.” you said, your voice smooth, practiced, like you were reading from a script. "It's been an incredible journey, and we're excited for what's next, both in our professional and personal lives."

The interviewer’s smile widened, practically giddy with excitement. “It’s clear that you two are truly in love! Your chemistry on and off-screen is undeniable. Toji, how does it feel to have such an amazing partner by your side?”

Toji’s lips quivered into a half-smile, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. “It feels like a new chapter, honestly. I’ve always admired her strength, her talent. She’s someone who challenges me, changes me, in ways I didn’t expect. I think that’s what makes it work.”

The words were kind, but you heard the undertone. You knew what it was. It was the unspoken acknowledgment of the past. The past you’d both tried to bury under layers of public appearances, press releases, and carefully crafted smiles. The past you had come to hate  with all your hatred.

What had started as something deeply painful had morphed into something else entirely, something you didn’t quite understand but couldn’t escape. This was a gilded cage that you had allowed him to trap you in.

One that you couldn’t escape. That’s why you were here, standing next to him, because you couldn’t tear yourself away. You couldn’t fly away. Even when you hated him. Even when you knew better.

You felt the interviewer’s eyes shift back to you, awaiting a response, her curiosity piqued. "And for you, how does it feel to have him by your side now, after everything you've been through?"

Your chest tightened. The words to explain your truth were there, just beneath the surface, but they never quite made it to your lips. You gave another practiced smile, masking the turmoil that churned inside you. 

"It’s complicated, yeah." you said carefully, choosing your words with precision. "We’ve both had our struggles, but that’s part of growth. That’s a lot of work, to make it all go smoothly. We’ve learned a lot from each other. And we’re both better for it."

The words hung in the air, a soft veil of politeness that couldn’t hide the undercurrent of something darker. The toxic bond, the cycle of love and hate, of pain and yearning. You hated that you were still here. You hated that you could never quite leave him, no matter how much you should. And yet, there was no escaping the pull. Not now. Not after everything.

The interviewer beamed, satisfied with your answer, but all you could do was nod politely, your gaze flickering to Toji again. The smile he gave you was the same one you had seen countless times before, the one that made your heart ache, the one that made you question everything about who you were, about who you were becoming.

You knew you should’ve been stronger. You knew you should’ve walked away a long time ago. But here you were, caught in the web you had spun and truly hated it. You hated him, but you still stayed. You knew, deep down, that this was your reality now. 

Your love for him would never be pure. It would never be something that anyone deserves to have. It was not worth living a life of destitution and desperation. And yet, it was what you had. It would never be easy, it would never be anything other than toxic.. It would always be tangled up in mistakes, in forgiveness, in betrayal, in passion.

And so you stayed.

Because even if he would hurt you, even if you would hurt him, this was the life you had chosen. You had crossed that line long ago, and now, there was no going back. There was no way to escape the chaotic love you shared. It would make you happy. It would make you miserable. It would always be the same, because it had always been this way, and maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

For better or for worse.

For the horrid to the frigid.

You both were toxic till the end.

The moment you stepped inside the theater, the noise of the red carpet event faded into a dull hum, replaced by the quiet buzz of the room. The lights overhead gleamed off the polished surfaces, casting long shadows over the seats where the audience had yet to arrive. 

Fushiguro Toji walked beside you, his presence commanding and strong, but the usual ease between you felt heavier now, charged with a tension neither of you had addressed since the interview. Since you were now a couple in the public hemisphere. And he was too aware of it all. 

As you made your way toward the dressing room, you felt the weight of his blue–green gaze on you, sharp and searching, as if he was trying to decipher something in your posture, in the way you carried yourself. You ignored it, pretending to focus on the steps ahead, the noise of your heels clicking against the floor, the rhythm of your breath.

When you reached the door, you paused for a moment, the cold handle beneath your fingers reminding you of the distance that had always existed between you and Toji, even when you were close, even when you thought you understood each other. Even when you were now stuck in this disturbed romance.

The room was empty except for the faint scent of makeup and old costumes, a reminder of the countless times you’d shared similar spaces before everything had unraveled. Toji followed you inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click. His footsteps were quieter now, the usual swagger in his walk subdued, but his presence still loomed larger than life.

You didn’t turn to face him immediately, choosing instead to adjust your dress in front of the mirror. The reflection staring back at you seemed almost foreign—perfectly poised, with a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. Not fully. And you didn’t know when that would ever happen again.

“You okay?” Toji’s voice was low, cautious, as though he wasn’t sure whether to press you or give you space.

You met his gaze in the mirror, seeing the uncertainty there. It made something inside you tighten, but you refused to show it. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” you said, though the words felt empty as they left your mouth. “It’s just... another night, another show.”

Toji stepped closer, his reflection merging with yours in the glass. “You don’t have to pretend, you know.” he said softly, his tone edging with a familiar vulnerability that made your chest tighten. “You don’t have to say everything’s fine when it’s not, babe.”

For a moment, you thought you might turn to him, reach out for him, let the rawness of it all spill over. But then you remembered the cameras, the words you’d both spoken on the carpet. The image you were meant to present. The lies you’d wrapped yourselves in, hoping no one would see the truth beneath.

“I’m not pretending.” you replied, a little too quickly. You broke your gaze with the mirror and turned to face him now, your eyes narrowing as if daring him to say something more. “What’s the point? Everyone’s watching, Toji. Everyone’s waiting to see if we’re going to fall apart, if we’re going to crack under the weight of it all. So why give them the satisfaction?”

Toji didn’t flinch at your sharp words. Instead, he took a step closer, his eyes softening, his voice quieter. “Maybe I’m tired of pretending too. Maybe I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

You shook your head, stepping back from him, though your heart thundered in your chest. “It’s too late for that. It’s too late for us, for anything real. We’ve already made our choices, Toji. This….whatever this is—this is just for show. This is what we have now. This is what we’re stuck with. And you know what the root cause was.”

For a brief moment, silence hung in the air, thick and oppressive, before Toji took a step forward, his hand reaching out to gently grasp your wrist, stopping you from retreating further. His touch was steady, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes, something that you could feel without needing to see it.

“I don’t want to lose you.” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “I never wanted to hurt you. I know I did, but I swear, I’m trying to fix it. I’m trying to fix us.”

You looked at his hand on your wrist, the heat of it seeping into your skin, and for a moment, you wondered if you could believe him. But then reality crashed back in, the weight of everything you’d been through. His betrayal, your own resentment, the lies you told yourselves about what you were.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again, Toji.” you whispered, your voice shaky, vulnerable in a way you hadn’t allowed yourself to be before. “I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

He watches as you halted, taking a moment to gather yourself. Before you looked at him again. “But god, we are just miserable with and without each other. Nothing changes. And yet here we are.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if pleading for you to see something, anything, in him that might make a difference. “I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I can earn that trust back. If you’ll let me.”

The words hung in the air, suspended between you, as the unspoken tension between you both remained unresolved. There was a part of you that wanted to believe him, that wanted to give in, to fall into the comfort of what you once had. But there was another part of you, the part that had learned from the mistakes, the hurt, that knew better.

“I don’t know.” you said quietly, pulling your wrist free from his grasp. “But I’m not the person I was before, and neither are you. So maybe we just need to accept that.”

Toji’s eyes dropped for a moment, the weight of your words clearly sinking in. He didn’t argue. He didn’t try to change your mind. Instead, he nodded, as if acknowledging the truth you both shared, no matter how painful it was.

“I don’t want to lose you.” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

But this time, there was no more fight left in you to give. 

The words hung between you both, unresolved. 

And for the first time, you wondered if you ever could let him go.

You wondered if you both would ever be free from each other.

Yet you knew that was wishful thinking, you knew that was a dream.

“You don’t have to worry.” You whispered back to him. “I’m not going anywhere….But you already knew that. Didn’t you?”

[arkhamsbrat]

𝜗𝜚 — gk! jason todd x civilian reader

jason todd likes when you’re mad at him because he knows it’s one of the few things he can fix. he can push, and push, and push and he knows you won’t leave because you do it right back. you two do it a lot, a sort of test for each other. constantly searching for the last straw that would never be found. it could be messy sometimes, other times you two were just passive aggressive and snippy.

tonight was one of those snippy nights.

he came home after patrol frustrated.boots stomping against the old wood of your apartment. you’d tried to be extra sweet, slid your hands along his shoulders so you could take his jacket off. “wanna talk about it, baby?” he let out a sharp sigh, shoulders tensing. “hands off.”

no petname. that should be the least of your concern. you freeze, left eye twitching lightly. theres a mental attempt of trying to remind yourself he just had a bad night. it’s been rough on him lately. working nightly to figure out what the hell is going on with his dad? you’d be on edge too.

still. who had dinner (breakfast, technicallly.) sitting in the microwave for him? and he can’t even ask nicely for some space?

maybe your friends were right. you sound like an old married couple.

none of your mental battles stopped the equal snip in your tone. “got it.” you moved to the kitchen, filling his water bottle and setting it on the table a little too hard. it wasn’t that you did it on purpose, but he only realized he was being a dick when you did it right back. you moved silently to your shared bedroom. well, apart from the aggressive slam of the door.

the plan? sit on the edge of the bed and ignore him until he said sorry.

jason is fucked up though. he loves when you slam the door, but he doesn’t hear the click to lock it. he knows he’s supposed to follow and lean against the door, head tilted as he shoots those damn puppy dog eyes at you.

“sweetheart?” he said quietly, cutting the silence cause he can see the gears in your head start turning to blame yourself. “i shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

fuck him. fuck that stupid voice. fuck that he knew exactly what was going on in your head. and fuck that you knew it mirrored his panic.

you tried to stop him from making himself the bad guy. the tone in his voice easily picked apart by your expert “jason todd listening ears”. your boyfriend already thought he was a monster, you can’t be another reason he believed that. “you’ve had it rough for a few weeks, i get it.” you didnt mean for your tone to sound so dry, but he was right. he shouldn’t have. he’s been a huge prick.

he scoffed at you. you pretended to miss the eye roll. he kneels down in front of your perch on the edge of the bed, small smirk pulling at his lips. “c’mon, you know better.”

“you’ve been a jackass.” you admitted quietly, not wanting to come off as too harsh. “there it is.” he rested his chin on your thigh. “i’m sorry, baby. you didn’t do anything, except be really helpful when i get home.” he pressed tiny kisses on your skin between every word. “lemme make it better?”

who are you to deny him?

[originalexcerpts]

“I think I am going to enjoy this more than the last of your kind I burned to the ground.” He combs his fingers through the dark brown curls atop his head before crouching down closer to me.

I can no longer feel my fingers as they press into inches of snow and ice. How did it come to this? A fleck of sleet caresses my cheek as I dare to look into his violet eyes.

“Now. What will it be?” My chest feels tight at his words. They come out so calm and direct. But I know this is the way it has to be. I cannot imagine going another day without Eric. He was my soulmate. My best friend. And two months ago, some drunk driver took him away forever. The worst part is that this is not the first time I have tried to find my way to him. This is just the only time someone has responded.

I look to the Ouiji board burning in the metal bin to our right. Some friends had told me it was great for making connections to the lost. Only, instead of finding Eric…

“Well?” The man before me straightens and fastens a button against his deep blue suit jacket.

I think about what he offered when he first appeared from thin air. I was setting fire to the last bit of hope I had, when poof. Tall, dark, and handsome came into view so quickly, I was knocked flat on my ass. He growled slightly then smiled before offering me certain death.

Well, actually… he asked if I was willing to submit to his will or be destroyed. For one, I will submit to no man. And two, this might be my chance to be together with Eric again.

I do not flinch as I simply shrug my shoulders and tilt my head down awaiting what comes next.

“Fuck.”

But death does not come. I startle at his curse and stare back at him. His brows furrow in what I would guess is frustration, maybe?

“You would rather I burn you in the same way you have burned my connection to this world, versus doing my bidding?”

I cannot help the chuckle I let out. I am so miserable. So miserable that… he is right. I would. I am ready to leave this world. There is nothing left in it for me.

“What? Like I am supposed to want to continue living? Much less living for you?”

The sun has set on the horizon, and the only light illuminating us now comes from flickers of the dying flame. I glance at the board again, and it is still there. I cannot even see any scorch marks against its sturdy wooden frame.

Who is he?

“This is so fucking sad.” I look back at him, but he is gone.

Within seconds his breath is warm against my ear. I quickly whirl my face to my right, only inches away from his lips. How is he so fast?

“How about this, Little Birdy.” I shuffle backwards to put space between us as a smile forms on his lips. “I won’t subject you to torture or damnation just yet. First,” he pulls a small card from his suit pocket and extends it out in front of me, “take this card. His name is Freid and he works wonders on the human and non-human mind.”

Out of curiosity, I take the card and read the bold red print:

              Nocturnal Psychology

              Dr. Freid Ryor and Associates

              111 Winston C. Boulevard

              Seattle, WA

Psychology?

“Next, I want you to come with me and stay at my place until your thoughts on death shift. It’s not some magical playground where all of your Earthly worries can be free from. You humans… I swear.”

I do not even try to hide the shock on my face as I slowly rise from the ground. The wind whips a few strands of my untamed golden hair across my forehead as I steady myself.

When the villain demanded that you submit or be destroyed you just apathetically shrugged and braced yourself for death. You were surprised when the villain did not kill you and instead offered you a nice, comfortable room and an appointment with their personal therapist.

[g4rvez-r3id]

Anything For Ellie : Part Two

Spencer Reid x Single Mom!Reader

Synopsis: It’s your daughter, Ellie’s birthday and your ex has broken yet another promise to her. Spencer’s there to comfort you and perhaps, feelings come to light.

Category: Fluff

Warnings: mild angst, but mostly fluff! reader has issues with ellie’s biological father, crying, yelling, kissing- that should cover it.

Author’s Note: here is part two! anyone want a part three?

part one

It was Ellie’s birthday. And Spencer had gotten lucky with not getting called in for a case. (He’d been the first person to show up to help you decorate your apartment). Of course, he’d come to help you the night before, especially the decorations you wanted to put on the ceiling and seeing as he was tall enough to help with decorations, he was the man for the job.

There were a few hours left of the party, Ellie had been laughing and running around with her friends, having fun and playing games. And even Spencer had shown Ellie and her friends a couple of magic tricks, playing the part of the magician of the party and exciting them.

All of the moms that were there seemingly harbored a crush on Spencer, all jealous of the fact that this Spencer was your next door neighbor and even some of the moms had asked if you two were dating (and if they could get his number if he wasn’t). You’d felt a little territorial over him, laughing it off with the moms and brushing off their comments because at least they didn’t have the luxury of living next door to the sexiest man alive.

Even Penelope, Spencer’s friend — that later became your friend — made an appearance at the party. Ellie always loved the bubbly Miss Penelope Garcia and you’d met her when you’d run into him and Penelope at a coffee shop one time. Since then, Penelope had become a best friend of sorts and came to visit at the bakery all of the time since she met you.

It’d been a couple of minutes before you were going to cut the cake and have Ellie blow out her candles. You’d been waiting on her father to show, like he’d promised Ellie. And as you watched Spencer show another magic trick, you paced. You’d sent text message after text message to your ex and he’d yet to respond to you.

Finally, your phone began to buzz and your ex’s contact came through on the screen and you quickly excuse yourself from the party, going out into the hall since your apartment was noisy at the moment.

Spencer had noticed as you walked out into the hall and by the lack of appearance from Ellie’s father, he knew it was most likely him calling you. Quickly, he distracted the kids with his playing cards, telling them to try and practice the trick on each other and went to go and check on you.

When he opened the door, your back was turned to him and you were angry. “What am I supposed to tell Ellie, Mark? You promised her you’d be here!” Your ex said something on the other line and you’d yet to notice Spencer standing there by your door.

“Something always comes up, Mark. And it’s not fair to Ellie, especially on her birthday. If I knew any better, I’d say you didn’t care about her at all.” He cuts in , most likely to tell you you were wrong, but you interrupt him almost immediately. “No, you don’t care! Otherwise, you’d be here. I’ve tried giving you the benefit of the doubt for Ellie’s sake but I’m tired of bullshit excuse after bullshit excuse. And now, I have to tell Ellie how her bullshit father is not showing up to her birthday like he promised. And you know what? I’m going to the courts and requesting full custody because you cannot be bothered to be there for her like an actual father.” Another pause. “I can do that, Mark. You hardly ever see her. It will be a no-brainer. Now, if you’ll excuse me, one of us wants to be there for our daughter and since it’s definitely not you, I’m stepping up to the plate. Screw you, Mark.” And with that, you hang up and groan out of frustration.

It’s then that you see Spencer standing there and you’re flustered at the fact that he may have just witnessed that entire thing. You sigh and hold your phone up, “Ellie’s dad not coming.” You say. “Yeah, I gathered that.” Spencer stated.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks and you scoff at him, “Am I okay? Not really.” You look down and feel the tears brimming in your eyes and you feel arms wrap around you. Spencer was never really one for hugs, so the motion kind of shocked you. You felt small as you find yourself wrapping your own arms around his torso and you just cry. And he lets you.

“Shh, it’s okay.” Spencer assures but you shake your head, “I just wanted him to keep his promise to her, for once.” Spencer rubs your back in comfort, head resting on the top of your head. “I know.” He whispers to you.

“The least he could do is show up and be there for her, you know? And I try and try and try and he’s always just… it makes me feel shitty because he acts like I keep her away from him and I don’t. I encourage their relationship and he’s the one not putting any effort for his own kid!” You exclaim out of frustration and you pull away, looking at him as you wipe your tears. “Maybe he was right, I am a hot mess.”

“I know, but you know what? It’s his loss.” Spencer tells you, putting his hands on your shoulders. “He chose not to be here but that has nothing to do with you or with Ellie. And if he wants to remain in a state of unhappiness, then that’s on him.” You sniffle as Spencer speaks to you so kindly. “You’re amazing, Y/n. You’re kind, you’re smart and funny, Ellie is so lucky to have you as a mother. I see how you are with her. And you do everything in your power to keep her happy. Your hard work does not go unnoticed, Y/n. Don’t think otherwise.”

You sniffle as you nod at him. “Okay.” Spencer puts a hand over your shoulder. “You’re doing just fine without him around.” He assures and you nod again, “How is it that you always know exactly what to say?”

Spencer simply shrugs, but you stare in awe. You’d had no idea that he thought you were amazing. And he told you you were a great mother. And by no means did you look from validation from a man but Spencer… he was different. Hearing this praise from him made you feel confident. And confident enough to do what you were about to do next.

You’d both been standing close so you don’t know exactly who initiated it or what but one second, you were staring at his lips and then next, they were on yours. And by the look on Spencer’s face, which was mostly laced with shock and confusion — you were the one that leaned in.

You quickly back up, “Oh, my gosh. Oh, my gosh, I am so sorry.”

“Wait, Y/n—”

“We can totally forget that just happened.” You quickly look at your watch. “I need to— It’s time for Ellie to blow out her candles.”

You attempt to head back in your apartment when you feel Spencer grab you by your hand and twirl you around as your lips meet his again and this time, you melt into his touch. His hands are holding your face as he kisses you, so passionately you nearly want to lift your leg up like they do in the movies.

You pull away when it becomes a chore to breathe and you look at Spencer as he asks, “Can I take you out on a date sometime soon?” He asks and you smile with wide eyes and a small nod, “Okay.”

“We should probably go back in, Ellie’s probably waiting for cake.” Spencer reminds you and you nod, “Oh, right!”

You walk back into your apartment, Spencer behind you as you walk over to the cake and light the candles. Ellie is sat at the table with her friends and you place the cake in front of her with a large smile as you encourage everyone to begin to sing ‘happy birthday’.

“Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday to you, Happy birthday dear Ellie, happy birthday to you!” Ellie closes her eyes and makes a wish before she blows out her candles and you look up at Spencer with a large smile on your face.

“Alrighty, Ellie, cake or presents first?” You ask and Ellie cheers, “Presents! Presents!”

There was a whole table filled with presents just for your daughter. Penelope had begged for Ellie to open hers first and she’d received kinetic sand, a doodle pad and three squish-mallows. She was spoiled rotten, the girl. She’d received toys, more stuffed animals for her collection, pretty much everything she wanted. Spencer had been bringing the presents to her, putting them in front of her and watching them being demolished by Ellie. It was only a matter of time before one more present was left on the table.

“Oh, it looks like this one is from Spencer!” You exclaim, looking at the man with a guilty smile on his face and Ellie cheered as she began to unwrap her present and nearly shrieks when she sees what he got her.

“What is it, love?” You ask and Ellie smiles as she shows her friends. “Spencer got me a magic kit!” Spencer had indeed gotten her a magic kit. She’d had her very own cape, gloves, hat and trinkets. “Oh, and here!” Spencer reaches over, giving her his card deck. “But this is your card deck!”

“I know, but every great magician needs a good deck. And you have the greatest there is.” Spencer smiles and Ellie laughs, “Now, I can be just like you!” You look up at the man with a large smile and then back at Ellie, “What do you say, Ellie?”

“Thank you, Mr. Spencer!” Ellie says and Spencer nods, “Oh, of course, Ellie! Anything for you.” You look over at Spencer and he gives you a sly wink and you smirk his way and Ellie looks at you, “Mommy?”

“Yes?”

“Can I have some cake now?”

“Of course, princess.” You tell her and Spencer decides to help you with that as well.

Later, you’ll have to tell Ellie that her dad wasn’t able to make it but as far as you know, the whole thing with your ex is behind you. You occasionally steal glances from Spencer — who you’re going on a date with soon, you keep reminding yourself because it’s so weird to think — and smile to yourself in a way that makes you think how funny life is.

Spencer feels the same way, you think in your head. It’s so crazy to you that he does. And he kissed you. And he asked you on a date! Suddenly, the signs are clear like no other. He’s always liked you. He’s had to have. You look at him one more time and when you look up, he seems to already be staring at you and that just confirms it for you.

You are going on a date with Spencer Reid.

This should be interesting.

[everythingspokenfor]

All characters are aged up 18+. MDNI.

━─━─━─━─━─━─━─━─━

You knew this was a possibility, that's why you took extra precautions, tied the strings so well that you were sure you'll have to cut them at the end of the day. But here you were, contemplating how on earth did this happen...

Mina had finally pulled the entire group into going on a vacation, choosing one of the Okinawa beaches, all of you packed up and came to the private penthouse. The vacation was long overdue, everyone too excited to chill out and relax.

It was all good, friends chilling out eating, drinking and finally relaxing after months of tedious hero work.

You were thoroughly enjoying yourself, even if you had to deal with him. Bakugou and you had a sort of love hate relationship, constantly fighting but still having each other's back. Friends constantly commenting about the thick sexual tension between you both, which left you yelling at them, they weren't wrong tho, not that you would admit outloud.

"Move, Sugar." Bakugou rasps out, hand holding a can of beer, he was shirtless, wet swim trunks sticking to him thighs, tan lines clearly visible on his legs, he was still glossy from playing in the water. Had you hated him any lesser, you would have licked the water off him, alas that thought is something to be revisited in darker hours of the night.

"Go around the towel, dipshit", You retort, going back to lathering yourself up with sunscreen, he snorts, before stepping on your fucking towel and going along.

"Asshole!" You yell at him, whole he continues to laugh at your face. You took in deep breaths, this fucker isn't going to ruin your vacation.

You got back to your sunscreen, before reapplying you lip gloss, you put too much effort into your appearance today. It was a deep maroon two piece, the bottoms had a fabric around it making it seem like a mini skirt, while the top was tied with strings.

As much as you loved the bikini, the top was making you nervous, you had taken every measure to prevent the strings from untying, even kept a spear towel, having heard too many stories of women losing their bikinis in the sea making you paranoid. It was probably also why you hadn't ventured into the ocean yet.

"Gurll- you lookin' cute there." Mina walked up to you, handing you a bright blue concoction, you grinned at her before downing the drink.

"Thanks, babes." You giggled, cheekily winking at her.

"What aren't you getting into waters tho? The weather is pleasant too." She queried, leaning in to steal your gloss. "I am gonna go, just applied sunscreen." You dusted your hands, as you stood up, Mina finished putting on the gloss, tossing the tube in your bag before both of you raced into the waters.

The boys, Kaminari, Kirishima and Sero welcomed you both in with splashes, playing around in waters lasted for a bit, after multiple rounds of chicken fight, Kirishima called Bakugou, asking him to join in.

"Ain't interested in yer shitty games." He yelled back, didn't bother looking at the group.

"Scared you'll lose," Sero provoked him, knowing that with right words he can get Bakugou to do anything.

"Fuck did ya' say?" He grits out, before standing up and charge towards your group, all of you scream before swimming in different directions, trying to not be his first victim.

Adrenaline pumped through your vessels, as you swam to furthest end of the shore, leaning against the big rocks keeping you hidden from the main shore. Breathing hard, you placed a hand on your chest, trying to slow the beating of your heart. Only to come to a horrible realisation that you weren't wearing your bikini top.

You were bare from waist above, frantically you tried looking for you top, hoping to find a maroon cloth lying somewhere, unfortunately you couldn't see anything that could vaguely resemble your bikini.

Panic set in when you realised that from this end of the shore, you can't even go to your spot on the beach, chance of grabbing your towel without being seen by your friends were too thin.

"Caught you!" Bakugou roars as he swims around the rocks, only to be stopped as you let out a yell, turning away from him.

"Stay there, Bakugou!" You barely even stay afloat, hairs shielding your back, while hands crossing over your chest.

"What? You suddenly don't want to play, when I catch you?" He rasps out, slightly curious as to why you wouldn't even turn to face him.

"It's not that." You let out a sigh, contemplating whether it's a good idea or not to ask Bakugou for help, he could potentially swin back and get you a towel.

"What is it then, Sugars?" He is much closer now, you can almost feel him behind you. "My top is lost." You whined out, praying he helps you.

"Sorry, what?!"

"My bikini top is lost, it untied while swimming." You whisper-yell at him, giving him a stink eye over your shoulder. He doesn't reply, instead it goes too quite, you slowly peek over your shoulder, only to lock eyes at Bakugou who is already looking at you.

Infact he was looking slightly below, as if checking whether or not you had the top. "Fucking pervert, I'll beat your ass!" Had your hands not been busy you would have whacked him.

"I am not a fucking pervert, I was thinking."

"Had you thought longer, you would have popped a boner."

"You want my help or not."

You went silent at that, of course you needed his help, especially if you didn't want to flash your friends.

"That's what I thought." He speaks at your silence, his voice a little too smug, "you got spear clothes here?" He queried, swimming back a little to look at your bag by the beach.

"I have a towel in there, it's big enough for me." You answer him over your shoulder, he wasn't looking at you anymore instead he was turned away mostly, head slightly tilted so he could hear you.

"Stay put, I'll get it," he almost start swimming before he turns towards you and says "Try not loosing the bottoms, in the meantime." And off he goes.

You knew just from that comment, he isn't going to let you live it down, you are sure he'll probably end up changing your name to some stupid shit constantly reminding you of today, but at least he is helping.

Everybody had already gone inside, letting Bakugou get you, when he reached where your towel had been laid out, he looked for your bag, not wanting to snoop too much, he got to work, quickly looking into the back to realise that there wasn't any towels in it. For a moment he wondered whether he should gather up your sand towel but decided against it.

He quickly jogged over to his spot at the beach, and grabbed the t-shirt he was wearing earlier, getting back into the ocean, he swam towards the rocks where you were hidden.

"Oi! There wasn't any towels, got you a t-shirt tho." He stretches an arm towards you, wet t-shirt in his fist.

"I had one, tho." You look at him in confusion, submerged neck deep into the ocean, hands crossed tightly. You were facing him slightly, eyes looking that clothe, you unwrapped one arm, from around yourself and reached for it, Bakugou averted his gaze, further stretching out his hand so you could reach it.

He moved a little closer, eyes still looking away, arms spread to make sure nobody can see you, even if it a private area of the beach.

You put the shirt on, feeling a little less exposed, turning around to fully face Bakugou, "Thank you, I suppose." You sheepishly scratch the back of your head, assuming the interaction is over and you'll both head back in.

"First of all☝🏻'you suppose?' and secondly you owe me more than a thank you."

He spits out, crossing his arms, and jutting out his hips. You eyes immediately drifted to his tits pecs that had become extenuated, before immediately locking eyes with his.

"Fucking pervert," He mimicked your earlier words.

"I am not! What do you want, Bakugou?" You exasperated, sighing dramatically, crossing your arms as well.

He moved towards you, arms unfolding to sway by his side, "Be nice, Sugar."

You scoff, eyes squinting at him suspiciously, more than aware of how close he was to you. He leans in clear, backing you against the rocks, leaning towards one side, leaving ample space for you to move away from him if you wanted.

He was close enough you could feel his minty breath onto your face, he locked eyes with you before leaning in, instinctively you closed your eyes, head tilting as your hands came to rest on his chest.

The kiss was taking a bit too long, peeking with one eye, you realised Baking was staring at you with s grin on his face.

"You asshole!!" You yelled at him, pushing at his chest, trying to move away from him, he was cackling, hands still grasping at your wrists, not letting you move away from him.

"Sorry, sorry." He wheezed out, pulling you towards him,"Oi, I am sorry, listen Sugars."

You didn't care tho, too tired to be dealing with his shenanigans, he was determined tho, pulled at your wrists, turning to glare at him, you were surprised by feeling of his lips against yours.

You stood there limp, Bakugou taking the lead for you, one arm around your waist other tilting your head to the side, deepening the kiss. You slowly brought you hands around his neck, fingers coming to run through his blonde hairs.

You pull away breaths heavy, he continues kissing down your jaw, leaving behind love bites for you to later press into.

He comes back up, pressing his forehead against yours, "So, how 'bout I take you out, Sugars?"

━─━─━─━─━─━─━─━─━

[christussy]

boyfriend award

fred weasley x reader

——— fred weasley is ultimately the best boyfriend you’ve ever had ———

he wasn’t your first boyfriend but definitely your last, or at least it felt that way because of how in love you were with him.

laying on his hard chest as he tangled your hair, fred weasley was ultimately the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.

you came to that conclusion quite early on.

he was the most lovable guy at hogwarts. sure he was irritating and annoying sometimes but his charms made people fall to their knees.

there was a rumor once that a third year was so in love with him they tried to spike his butterbeer, but fred caught on early enough and fed it to ron.

they then had to go to the hospital wing that day which was coincidentally where you and fred met.

madam pompey wasn’t as mad at them as she was at you that day though.

you had just beaten up marcus flint for “accidentally” spilling porridge all over you. the only reason he even did that was because a week prior to the porridge incident, you had left hair removal in his shampoo and now he looked like the mix of voldemort and big bird had a child.

can’t say he didn’t have it coming.

—

when fred heard of your prank, he knew he needed to meet you immediately. the one thing he knew how to do was prank people more horrid than pumpkin candy.

“the ever-popular y/n, tell me your secrets.” fred teased.

“what secrets?” you countered, folding your arms.

fred had you cornered outside the hospital wing but you swore you had never felt as comfortable as now.

maybe it was his looming presence or the warmth of your now bloody jacket, but everything in that moment felt comforting.

“how did your hands land on hair-removing shampoo? and how did it end up in flint’s bathroom? so many questions and none answered.” he said with a curious tone.

“well maybe if you let me talk first i could answer them.”

fred smirked, for some reason your witty response made his heart flip more times than it did during quidditch games.

“i got the bottle from my cousin in the americas, and i convinced one of flint’s friends to exchange the shampoos without marcus noticing. well of course i had to provide payment by agreeing to do his homework for potions but it was so worth it.” you explained, and fred could see the glint in your eyes.

“well done, if it was up to me i would’ve exchanged his body soap for rocks.”

“quite a sadist, aren’t you fred weasley?” you teased.

“not sure what you’re getting at y/n y/l/n. i only enjoy the occasional bloody prank, nothing sadistic about that.”

“Y/N Y/L/N! when I find you you’ll be sporting your own bruises!” marcus flint exclaimed from inside the hospital wing as his friends attempted to take the mirror out of his hands.

“guess he doesn’t like the look of purple and bald on him.” you shrugged with a smirk.

you assumed fred would’ve laughed along but he was looking quite grim.

it was then that you noticed his stiff body and arms fisted on his side.

“fred, what’s wrong?”

“he shouldn’t be talking to you like that. especially if he’s threatening you y/n.” fred said with anger in his eyes.

“calm down. nothing i’m not used to as an aftermath of another prank.” you tried to reason, “it is my fault that he’s in there looking like lord voldemort.”

fred cracked out a smile at that comment before letting his anger dissipate away.

“it’s still not okay. when he gets out of here another prank is coming his way.” fred muttered the last bit to himself but realized that you could hear him as he looked down at you with a smirk.

a smirk that made your knees weak.

a smirk that would stay in your mind for weeks to come.

—

after that conversation, fred weasley had appeared in your life more times than in the past.

the routes you had taken before were now included with a red headed jokester who always smiled brightly at you in passing.

the rumors you heard about all the pranks happening to marcus flint were created by none other than fred.

you found that out on a fateful day marcus flint almost ran into you with pink robes on. he had fred, george, and a bunch of first years tailing after him as they laughed.

fred threw you a wink when he noticed you were watching with shock on your face.

the way your body reacted to his wink made you realize you might just have a crush on fred weasley.

—

putting ur chin on his chest and making eye contact with him, you smiled up at fred.

“something on your mind, love?” fred asked as he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“nothing much. just thinking about how we first met.”

“oh yeah, remind me again. was it with marcus flint’s bald head or when you obsessively started stalking me.” he teased you.

“i did not stalk you fred weasley!” you protested with a grin.

“easily could’ve. but there was no reason to, i was hooked from the moment i laid eyes on you outside of that hospital wing.”

when he said sweet things like that, it was hard for you not to fall in love with him all over again.

fred weasley was ultimately the best boyfriend you’ve ever had.

-chrissy!!!

[fenya-scribbles]

Escape

♥--------♥--------♥

Pairing: Bangchan x fem!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend went too far this time and Chan picks up the pieces.

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, friends to lovers?

Content warnings: mentions of domestic violence, mentions of blood, curse words, nudity (non-sexual), lmk if I missed something :)

Word Count: 674

A/N: My first Stray Kids fic, inspired by The Last Night by Skillet. It just came to me. If anyone's interested, I could see myself doing one of these for the other members as well.

♥--------♥--------♥

When you turned up at Chan’s door, you didn’t even remember how you got there. You just remembered leaving your boyfriend’s place, running through the rain without a jacket, freezing and bleeding and crying. You just remember the fear in your bones. And now you were here. 

It was the middle of the night, but you knew Chan was awake. Chan seemingly never slept, which often made you worry about him. But right now you were glad about it, because he didn’t take long to open the door. “Y/N?” His curious look quickly turned into a worried one. “Fuck, what happened to you?”, he asked as he pulled you into his apartment. 

You wanted to tell him, you really did, but all you could to was break down crying. He immediately pulled your rain soaked body against him, arms locking tightly around you as you started to sob uncontrollably. “Hey, hey”, he spoke softly, gently running his hand over your hair. “It’s alright. You’re safe. I got you.”

You stood there crying for what felt like forever, but eventually your sobs died down and you motioned for Chan to let go of you. He did so just enough to be able to look at you. “You’re bleeding, Y/N. What the fuck happened?” He said as he pushed a wet strain of hair out of your face. You swallowed hard. 

“It was my fault”, you said. “I dropped a plate. I should’ve been more careful.” Chan raised his eyebrows. “Your fucking boyfriend did this?” He sounded angry now and you flinched at his tone. “Hey, hey, sorry”, he immediately softened his voice. His eyes went to the bleeding cut on your cheek. “I need you to know that this was not your fault.” You opened your mouth to disagree, but he immediately interrupted you. “Don’t even think about blaming this on yourself. Your boyfriend is an aggressive asshole. You’re not going back there.” 

You were too tired to argue, the heaviness of the situation suddenly hitting you like a freight train, so you just let Chan take you to the bathroom, where he treated your wound. “How about you take a hot bath, hm?”, he proposed, “Wash that pathetic excuse of a man off your skin?” 

It was so nice to be taken care of by Chan. He’d been your best friend for years and he’d never liked your boyfriend. Of course, your boyfriend had also not liked Chan and had tried to break up your friendship multiple times. Chan wouldn’t have any of that, and in this moment you were eternally grateful for that. 

Chan started to run the bath and then helped you out of your soaked clothes. Under different circumstances you might have felt embarrassed to be naked in front of him, but there was no energy for shame left in you. Chan was respectful and gentle, helping you into the hot water and proceeding to wash you with a soft sponge. 

“Can I stay the night?”, you said eventually. “I already told you, princess, you’re not going back there.” “What about tomorrow?” “You’re never going back there. I’ll handle it.” You looked up at him with tired eyes. “Really? He’ll be pissed if you show up instead of me.” Chan let out a huff. “Don’t worry, princess, I can take him.” 

Chan proceeded to wash you, wrap you into a soft towel and carry you to his bedroom. You didn’t fight it, didn’t want to fight it. Chan had always been your comfort person and he was exactly what you needed right now. “Get some sleep, princess”, he whispered as he tucked you in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

When he got up to leave, you reached for his hand. “Please”, you said sleepily, “don’t leave me alone.” He smiled and laid down beside you. “Alright.” He wrapped his arms around you, shrouding you in warmth, safety and comfort. “Never leave me alone”, you whispered. “I promise, princess, you will never have to spend a night alone again.” 

♥--------♥--------♥

Masterlist

[berryhatfingers]

I feel like Jeremy thinks it’s Neil’s fault Jean was worse mentally when he came back than he left, so he hates Neil for that. Neil is upset Jeremy didn’t keep Jean safe.

Andrew dislikes Jean over Neil’s time at The Nest. Jean thinks Andrew is Neil’s rapid pet goalkeeper and dislikes him for not trying with exy? Idk

Here’s the thing, this dislike is so incredibly irrational. Jeremy didn’t know and tried to be a good friend to Jean. With Neil it was bad timing, he offered Jean an out, but they were trapped in the situation anyway. Jean literally kept Neil alive, gotten abused with him, and literally saved his life re:waterboarding. Andrew likes Neil and is also emotionally repressed like Jean, and ultimately they have a lot in common.

i love imagining andreil and jerejean in a room bcus jeanneil are being weird freak forever partner besties and jeredrew(?) are getting along well bcus andrew does in fact like kind people but as soon as u pair jeremy w neil and andrew w jean blood is being spilled

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

January 19, 2025

Heather Cox Richardson

Jan 19, 2025

You hear sometimes, now that we know the sordid details of the lives of some of our leading figures, that America has no heroes left.

When I was writing a book about the Wounded Knee Massacre, where heroism was pretty thin on the ground, I gave that a lot of thought. And I came to believe that heroism is neither being perfect, nor doing something spectacular. In fact, it’s just the opposite: it’s regular, flawed human beings choosing to put others before themselves, even at great cost, even if no one will ever know, even as they realize the walls might be closing in around them.

It means sitting down the night before D-Day and writing a letter praising the troops and taking all the blame for the next day’s failure upon yourself in case things went wrong, as General Dwight D. Eisenhower did.

It means writing in your diary that you “still believe that people are really good at heart,” even while you are hiding in an attic from the men who are soon going to kill you, as Anne Frank did.

It means signing your name to the bottom of the Declaration of Independence in bold print, even though you know you are signing your own death warrant should the British capture you, as John Hancock did.

It means defending your people’s right to practice a religion you don’t share, even though you know you are becoming a dangerously visible target, as Sitting Bull did.

Sometimes it just means sitting down, even when you are told to stand up, as Rosa Parks did.

None of those people woke up one morning and said to themselves that they were about to do something heroic. It’s just that when they had to, they did what was right.

On April 3, 1968, the night before the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated by a white supremacist, he gave a speech in support of sanitation workers in Memphis, Tennessee. Since 1966, King had tried to broaden the Civil Rights Movement for racial equality into a larger movement for economic justice. He joined the sanitation workers in Memphis, who were on strike after years of bad pay and such dangerous conditions that two men had been crushed to death in garbage compactors.

After his friend Ralph Abernathy introduced him to the crowd, King had something to say about heroes: “As I listened to Ralph Abernathy and his eloquent and generous introduction and then thought about myself, I wondered who he was talking about.”

Dr. King told the audience that if God had let him choose any era in which to live, he would have chosen the one in which he had landed. “Now, that’s a strange statement to make,” King went on, “because the world is all messed up. The nation is sick. Trouble is in the land; confusion all around…. But I know, somehow, that only when it is dark enough, can you see the stars.” Dr. King said that he felt blessed to live in an era when people had finally woken up and were working together for freedom and economic justice.

He knew he was in danger as he worked for a racially and economically just America. “I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn’t matter…because I’ve been to the mountaintop…. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life…. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!”

People are wrong to say that we have no heroes left.

Just as they have always been, they are all around us, choosing to do the right thing, no matter what.

Wishing you all a day of peace for Martin Luther King Jr. Day 2025.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[hoseoksluna]

THE END OF THE WORLD | pjm

pairing: best friend!jimin x f. reader

genre: fluff

rating: 13+

summary: when you thought your period cramps would bring in the end of the world, you didn't realize your feelings for jimin would get reciprocated in the middle of it all.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: reader is on her period; brief mention of period blood, jimin has a cute (non-sexual) fixation on reader's feet, kissing, anxiety, the problematics of heavy thoughts, insecurities and feeling not worthy of good things.

luna's note: this little thing literally came out of nowhere. i started writing this at work on friday when i had severe cramps and i felt soft enough to write a little fluff. where my jimin girls at? i've been heavily fixated on jimin lately, seeking comfort in him, buying pcs from muse photoshoot bc it's my favorite. the jimin i wrote about is an older, buffier jimin with blond hair bc that's my weakness. i hope you like this figment of my imagination and that it makes you as soft as it made me. i love you all, sending kisses mwah.

𓂃 ౨ৎ

taglist | join here: @jjk7k, @tkslovechild, @euphoricmyth, @cinmmongirl, @ririkookiemonster, 

@perfectiondazesworld, @https-mei, @bangtansonyeondanue, @jungkoock, @cinmmongirl, 

@hoseokkie-caeks, @kam9404, @fr0ggieth1nk, @parkinglot-nights, @sadgirlroo

@ririkookiemonster, @perfectiondazesworld, @kookienooki, @rrosiitas, @kooloveys

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@mar-lo-pap, @perfectiondazesworld @blackswanpt2 @rpwprpwprpwprw

The pain that coursed across your lower tummy felt like the world ending, and your boy friend carried more beauty than a mere mortal could ever achieve. Too bad there was that doomful space between those two words that speak of his role in your life, even though his current position suggests such closeness that those letters could easily melt together. 

Jimin rests the side plane of his face on the middle of your thigh. You repose on the left side of your bed, seemingly bloodless while you exude liters upon liters of the carmine liquid, which makes you wonder how you’re still alive. The wings of your ovaries constrict and constrict, right under his face, reflecting the membrane of his own pair that you’ve watched grow into those of an archangel throughout the trajectory of your life with him. You try to ignore the pain, even as your features twist in helplessness, and instead imagine the colors that could swift through those feathers. 

Pistachio green. Brown that fades into a soft pink. Maybe a little subdued yellow. 

You’ve always thought he was an angel by the way his presence in your day simply made it better. More joyful, more loving, more gentle. But the more you blossomed into adulthood with him, and your frontal lobe developed as well as your unconditional feelings for him, the more you comprehended he was your angel. And not just an ordinary one. 

He was your archangel. 

He would protect you from people that had no space in your life, no luck or love to pepper your nose with. On the packed public transport, he would cover your knees with his hand so no male strangers would touch you with the back of their legs. If a guy came to make a mess out of your life, he would deal with him in a way that would force him to apologize to you and never bother you again. If someone, no matter their gender, caused you sadness in any small or big form, he made sure they regretted it. And, more often than not, your archangel bought you boba. 

You must’ve tried all the flavors from your favorite bubble bar by now. And by all means, crème brûlée was your favorite—only because when you drank it for the first time, you realized that you irrevocably loved the boy with the faux blond hair, pillowy lips, kind heart and confidential tattoos. And when this dawned upon you, it seemed as though Jimin knew—because he blushed and didn’t say anything for a while. The unspoken information, kept safely in the cores of yours and his being, not born into this world. That’s why it’s your favorite. 

It’s the one that is set on your nightstand right now, unopened, with the straw still captive in the translucent foil. It took only one response to his daily how are you text for him to drive to your usual bubble bar on his way to you, and upon seeing the beige peek through the cup, along with the brown sugar syrup, it’s a miracle your knees didn’t give out on you. The fact he chose this drink over all the other ones you love fed your heart the delusions that maybe, just maybe he loved you back. 

That he wasn’t just a kind boy, whose love language was physical touch, and that’s why he’s laying in your lap. 

Maybe, if you did any good in your life, Jimin gazes at you from this lower position while fondling your aching tummy because he feels something deeper than a sympathy for you. 

The pain almost forces you to ask that life-altering question for clarification. Almost. It is on the tip of your tongue, perfect and fluid, breathless and fearless, but you hold it back because Jimin extends one finger and traces patterns on your bloated belly. 

And not just any patterns.

He’s drawing wings. 

His own flutter in the air. Green, brown, pink and yellow. As if he’s giving life to them by drawing a miniature version of them on your clothed skin. And as they flutter, they open and close, open and close. They lift him, leave him hovering above you for a mere second while his hands find a good spot on the mattress outside of the lines of your body, until he settles. His body plops down onto yours, bringing in such heat that you softly gasp and close your eyes at the impact, and you don’t know what to feel, what your hands are doing as they lift, too, and interlock behind his neck, and you don’t know what this is. 

Is this what friends normally do? 

You wouldn’t know. Jimin has been your only boy friend since… forever. And you can’t think properly because the heat penetrating you mingles with your cramps and his body weight messes with your brain, emptying it out until there’s only two sentences that linger. 

One: I love you, Jimin.

Two: We are connected beyond the laws of this world, through strings which are transparent. 

The second sentence only expands, in metaphorical terms, on the first one.

Jimin’s cheek is reddened by his former position in your lap. A circle of soft and wrinkly skin that must be as warm as the rest of him. His blond hair is a bird’s nest, which an entire league of lesser angels must take care of. And his mellow smile gives off such snug light that it reaches his eyes, dissolving there like sparks of a dying fire. 

You love him, and you fail to understand how it has come to be—him laying on top of you. Did you smiling at the cashier in the grocery stop while you paid for your pads earlier get you this blessing? If the world ended in the next minute, you’d be happy, you wouldn’t mind at all because this, this is everything to you. You’re afraid to speak, to break the spell of the moment, and you feign an absolute calmness, not daring to move an inch, despite the fact your internal organs are colored by fireworks that burst and burst as soon as his breathing syncs with yours. 

It’s not that your lungs copied his—his lungs copied yours, and there’s something terribly intimate about that. 

You can’t halt the scarlet tinge rushing through your cheeks, one of the flower-shaped fireworks flung through you. Jimin’s tender eyes fall to them, one by one, and his mouth cracks the tiniest of smiles, as if he, too, held himself back from ruining the moment. The room is saturated with rosiness that feels light, and you wonder how long has it actually been since you’ve put on these rose-colored glasses. 

How strange it is in reality, to love someone without them knowing. 

You’re a slave to things hitting you all of a sudden. You tend to live in a dreamy headspace, walking through life seeking the arts, the poems, the book lines that cut through your heart without any ounce of pity, and when reality infiltrates that fog like the winter’s sun, the rosiness loses its hue. 

Just like right now. 

What are you doing? What is Jimin doing and why is he doing it? It’s not right, it shouldn’t be like this, you haven’t done anything to deserve this. You don’t think smiling at a cashier would make you deserve—

“Is the pain any better?” 

His tender voice percolates into your anxious thoughts like a pyrotechnic with colors inside its throat, the very fireworks inside you, and they meet in the middle of your sternum, connecting, clicking, never to be torn apart—at least not for a while. Their bond erases your fear, making space for a clean frame of mind, and your brain cells focus on your aching lower belly. The pain has lessened due to the heat radiating off Jimin’s body and seeping into yours, you let out a long breath that caresses the shorter pieces of his hair, and your muscles loosen, your senses returning to you. 

You can smell Jimin.

Apple shampoo, the sweet vanilla of his fragrance, laced most delectably with the manly spice of his aftershave. And the savoriness of his natural scent. 

A moment of physical serenity. 

Your fingers twitch behind the nape of his neck, pining to play with his hair. You take a lungful of the whole essence of him, your pining dilating as your instinct begs you to fist the downy material of his cashmere sweater, drag him up and bury your nose in his neck. 

You do none of those things, however. Your fingers keep on twitching, and so you close them into a fist, holding your thumb for comfort, willing the blackness of your thoughts away. 

You nod your head and suddenly, your body does as it pleases. For a reason unknown to you, your free finger taps the center of the back of his neck, and you’re not sure if it was that brief touch that cast such light in his eyes, or whether it was the fact that he’s helping your cramps. 

You wish you’d stop thinking at all. It’s exhausting, fighting and analyzing all the fucking time. You wish you could just live in the moment, experiencing the beauty of your senses quietly without any intrusions of your thoughts, and as Jimin sizes you up with all that light glossing over his irises, it seems as though he knows the ins and outs of your daily struggles. 

You don’t know that he’s been paying attention all this time. A very close one, at that. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, throwing you off balance enough that your eyes widen and the blood in your veins turns cold. The pain in your belly stops at once as all your concentration is fixed on the call-out. “You haven’t touched your favorite boba. You haven’t said a full sentence since I came over and you keep frowning. What’s wrong?” 

His chest lifts and he reaches over to your bedside table, grabbing the drink he spoke of and placing it on your swollen tummy. His teeth rip off the plastic foil over the straw and he plunges it with utmost expertise inside the large cup, setting off the fireworks inside you all over again as if it was New Year’s eve. And maybe it is—maybe Jimin has fast-forwarded the time and given you a chance to make a change in your life, a new year resolution that could make everything better. 

If only you weren’t such a coward—a wolf of bravery in a foolish, timid sheep’s skin. 

But the tears that rush through when Jimin tilts the cup and the straw to your lips while holding it steady, they have the power to clean you off the old and the ostensibly innate structure of your insecurities. And when they roll down your cheeks and Jimin’s mouth parts in abrupt shock molded by compassion, you sense that their power is bigger than you. 

Your lips wrap around the thick straw and suck in the saccharine, creamy delight. It suffuses all of your senses, and once the black, squishy tapioca plops into your mouth, a soothing tendril of joy overwhelms every inch of your being. To such an extent that you begin to bawl. 

And splutter out the contents of your mind. 

“My mind is always running and I’m so tired of it, like I can’t catch up anymore,” you sob, chewing the boba while your tears freely fall. Jimin continues holding the cup and when your hand wraps around his, the other one encloses around your wrist—the gesture propelling you to spill out more. “I’m always analyzing, always thinking if I’m worthy of this and that. If it’s okay, if I should stop, if I should do something or not, if I—” You sigh, not able to find the words to describe what you’re experiencing. Frustration latches onto you, inciting your anger that begins to ooze out of your every pore. “When you were laying down on my lap, all I could think about was—” You stop yourself, slapping your mouth, realizing that you nearly said too much. 

But Jimin knits his brows, and the hand that held your wrist tugs away the limb that halted the flow of your words. “Keep going.” 

Your heart pounds, violently. The moment feels too severe, and yet your mind is oddly… silent. As if the anger that washed over you scrubbed it completely clean—clean enough that you perceive this to be an interruption rather than a saving. Your mouth wants to continue to speak and your heart… it pushes the words up your throat. 

You feel like puking your guts up, although there’s a strange determination prickling the ends of your fingertips. 

You swallow and in the middle of the interlude, Jimin sits up. Sets your boba on the hard surface of your closed laptop nearby. The sudden distance pulls you, as if by a string, to a sitting position as well, and both of you simultaneously criss-cross your legs while your heart threatens to leap out of your esophagus. You’re stomaching the feeling that you’ve done something wrong, which caused him to exit the closeness you were in, and you tense up and nearly tremble with the need to fix it. 

Jimin opens his mouth, about to say something, but you’re quicker. You’re going to give him what he asked you, just so you can have him close again. 

“When you were in my lap, I couldn’t believe it,” you start softly, graced with the attention of his eyes as they flick up to you in surprise. Your nerve endings sizzle, giving you the words to continue, no matter how devastatingly acute this situation is. “I tried to think of all the things I did that made me deserve having you this close, but I came up short every time. I didn’t understand how our closeness happened to begin with and I didn’t think I was worthy of it. Still do. That’s all.” 

You exhale loudly, detecting no heaviness on your chest, but absolute freedom, out of which blades of grass grow, a perfect home for wildflowers. But a cloud extends over it and it begins to rain as you watch Jimin’s natural expression break into a vivid canvas of dolefulness. The eye contact breaks along with it. The faux-blond boy hangs his head low, his long eyelashes flitting, and you think the world is ending right now as you’re taking small, careful breaths, knowing they’re the last ones. 

But Jimin’s forefinger finds your big toe, and he plays with it. Moves it back and forth, fondles it, squeezes it. Makes the last seconds of this life a little more bearable before it collapses over your head. Ponders something unknown, seemingly prolonging this end. And when he’s had enough and he fists all of your toes and looks up at you, it’s not that he stops this finale. 

He snatches you and takes you to the other world.

“I have something to tell you as well,” he says, his voice coated by that sadness and regret his whole energy is permeated with. He blinks rapidly, running his tongue over his bottom lip inside his mouth, gathering courage or perhaps waiting for your full attention because you’re dipping your gaze in and out of the intimacy of the way he’s holding your foot and the nipping graveness of this moment. 

Everything is too much at once.

“I’ve been a fool,” he starts, similarly like you did, biting the bottom lip he moistened as if to punish himself while busying his eyes on your pink toenail. He strokes the lacquer, shaking his head slowly. “I’ve done all of those things and I still do them without telling you the truth, without confessing.” He flicks his eyes up at you from his downward position, elbows propped on his knees, his stature hunched and buffy. Stops the beat of your heart with that brief look as you anticipate his next words. Sighs, the sound loud and heavy, bearing the kind of guilt and affliction that gnaws at the flesh he owns. Your brain turns off and every morsel of your feelings desires to help him, to make him feel better, but the following words that come out his mouth are the last stop to the other world, and everything is born anew. “I’ve loved you since the moment I first saw you. Soaked like a puppy in the rain, waiting all alone for your friends to finish flirting with the guys outside of the club in Hongdae. I’ve loved you since that moment because you were just like me. You weren’t in the mood, you didn’t want anyone to talk to you. I’m still surprised you smiled your beautiful smile at me when I waved at you, that you let me talk to you.”

The memory sails before your eyes like a murky cloud. All of your friends standing under the roof, smoking and talking to guys, not leaving any space for you to hide yourself from the rain. Jimin finding you in that crowd, waving at you, perceptibly softening when you waved back and smiled because you felt lonely, overlooked and profoundly depressed and he was the only one who saw you. The memory ends at the scene when Jimin walks towards you, takes off his jacket and holds it over your head while getting soaked himself.

Your cheeks were dry from your tears, but they get stained all over again as new tears begin to pour, your heart tender, beating hard but quietly from his confession. Jimin moves your foot over to his lap, drifting his fingers over it, and the tickling sensation prevents your anxious thoughts from reappearing. You breathe in his words, letting them in, letting the change in, all while you squirm and hushedly giggle from his tickles. 

Strange, strange emotions, towering over you, but they feel right—they feel like heaven, and you think that’s where your archangel has taken you.

He loves you. 

You love him and he loves you back.

He loves you.

“I’m sorry that I confused you. I should’ve told you sooner, but I was… afraid,” he says, boring his eyes into yours, sending out the authenticity, with which he covered his words, and the regret he deeply feels. “I was afraid you were comfortable with us being just friends, but still I couldn’t physically keep my distance. It was a mistake on my part, so again I’m sorry I made you feel this way.” 

Your heart grows and your body is too small to cage it inside, ferocious and wild with all the love it feels for the faux-blond boy. You feel constricted and you rid yourself of the iffy sensation by inching a little closer and enveloping your arms around his shoulders. And this time, you have the freedom to sink your fingers into his chamomile-colored hair. You have the freedom to feel the softness, to hear his quiet, confidential purr of pleasure from your touch, which essentially spurs you on to move a little further upon this trail of freedom. 

“I’ve loved you for a long time, too,” you confess, and it’s the easiest thing your mouth ever emitted. No dark thoughts ruin it, but instead you understand that everything Jimin has done for you was through the strings of love that connect you to him. Your delusions weren’t delusions; they were all true conceptions and they were broiling, begging to be let out. “I fell in love with you because of your actions, because of the way you took care of me, because of the way you treated me. No one has ever treated me like you did. You’re a beautiful person with a kind heart—”

Jimin interrupts you with a cry of your name. He yanks you fully into his lap, wrapping your legs around him to make you comfortable, and he embraces you. Tightly, heartfully. You fit into him like petals to disc florets, and you never want to leave. An ardent awareness of safety swallows you whole, especially when he scrunches up your hair and nuzzles his face in your neck, breathing against you so heavily that your entire world spins. 

And then he pulls you away, and asks you the kind of question that deprives you of everything you ever knew, romantically. 

“Can I kiss you? Please, let me kiss you. Jebal.” 

The smile that stretches over your face aches as you vehemently nod and Jimin doesn’t waste a singular second. 

He smashes his mouth against yours, igniting hundreds, if not thousands, of butterflies with a loving fire that they spread across every inch of you. The kiss is deep, and unlike any kiss depicted in any kind of art that you ever longed for. Your mind is gone as soon as Jimin breaks the kiss for a millisecond and goes for another one, seizing your lips, owning them, doing to them whatever he wants. The past world is gone, heaven is in full bloom, with a legion of lesser angels celebrating the kiss of the ending century. The time is gone, too, as both of you kiss until your lips get numb, and the look you give to each other makes those innocent winged creatures cover their eyes in shyness. 

The kissing doesn’t stop there. 

With every turn of the head, with every peck and with every brush of the tongue, it fulfills everything you ever lacked. You forget every poem you learned. The colors of the paintings you liked pale in comparison. And every book scene you envisioned before you went to bed is filled with emptiness. Jimin becomes the center of your new life that stands above the fictional one you so earnestly wanted, and you tell him of it with every kiss you reciprocate.

With words, too, later when you’ve caught your breath and Jimin is spooning you with his hand on your lower belly, occasionally stretching his neck over your shoulder to take a sip of your delicious boba. And you tell him again in your dreams, where the comprehension that you no longer have to live in your headspace in order to be happy and fulfilled unfolds. You make friends with the angels and tell them as well, watching what they do as they run their fingers through his hair, making mental notes, folding them into your heart. 

You do what you learned in the bathroom the following morning, even through the excruciating pain of your cramps. Jimin kisses your feet for it, orders you to rest as he massages them, having brought you some painkillers. And when they take effect and you can function like a normal human being, you note down your first life full of art with him.

And title the first page—“THE END OF THE WORLD, THE BEGINNING OF MINE”.

© 2025 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved

BACK to masterlist

[itzy-bitsy-spidey]

Laundry day

Notes: Just a little college au! One Shot based on this drawing that I made! Hope you enjoy!

Characters: Usopp, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji.

From everything you were expecting from college when you moved away from your home town to study you definitely hadn't thought about the rather... peculiar friendships you were about to make.

The "Straw Hats" as your friend Luffy liked to call the group had been an unexpected, but very pleasant, thing to add into the chaos that was your life. None of you were studying the same career yet somehow all your lunch breaks would sync perfectly, and as it happened to be your luck ( and that of every member of the group) you all happened to have most of your free time within the same hours.

So it didn't come as a surprise when you found yourself doing mundane activities with the Straw Hats. Like, for example, doing your laundry.

Robin and Nami had gone out for coffee and you had been left alone in the shared bedroom, so when Sanji, Zoro, Usopp and Luffy showed up at your door with bags full of dirty clothing you knew what you had to do.

Ditch studying to spend quality time with your boys.

And so once all the clothes were getting washed and there was nothing else to do you all started to goof around the place.

Usopp had brought with him a bag of gummies that were currently flying around as you and Luffy tried to catch them in your mouths. You were pushing each other out of the way to see who could get most gummies, the scene kind of reminded you of a wedding but if Usopp was the bride, the candy the bouquet, and Luffy and you the desperate women trying to catch it.

You even accidentally pushed Sanji at some point (who was discreetly smoking in a corner as to not be seen), and he simply smiled at you and then warned the boys to not drop any of the sweet goods, though knowing Luffy he would definitely eat them no matter what, even covered in dirt.

Between the commotion that you three were causing it did take you a little while to notice the fifth person in the group missing.

"Do you think he got lost trying to go back to campus?" Usopp was the first to ask after you notified them that Zoro was nowhere in sight.

Sanji sighed behind him and kicked him in the back of the head, Nami had started to rub off on him.

"And why would he go back to campus if our clothes are still getting washed? Dumbass"

"Guys! I found him!" Came the sound of your "captain" calling for you.

And, lo and behold, there he was. Sleeping, to absolutely nobodies surprise, though you couldn't say that his sleeping spot wasn't rather... unusual. The only really surprising matter was how he could fit inside the washing machine.

Stifling your giggles you quickly instructed the rest of your friends to pose around him, and you even helped Luffy climbed to the machine on top of Zoro's.

Taking a few steps behind you took out your phone and snapped a picture.

You were so failing your finals, but at least you had a good time with your friends!

[ohburgee]

𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

yandere!villain x hero!reader

tw: Yandere theme, dark theme, obsession, violence, an: I was obsessed with villains having love interests for heroes, so I wrote for myself, hehe. sorry for being inactive for days I just enjoy the season of radiance in sky so I didn't get to continue writing this and I have 4 drafts now waiting and my class starts on Thursday.

He shouldn't form love, he shouldn't fall to his enemy, the hero, you.

One time when he was nearly death after he fought one of his rivals, when the gun was almost going to shoot him then you came into action and fought the rival of his then made them unconscious.

And you look at him in his hopeless state and then fall unconscious. After that you brought him to your place and healed him, you don't know why you're doing this but you're returning the favor when he also saves you from one of your enemies.

You know he is also one of your enemies but you are too kind-hearted and help him instead.

After healing him, he was awake and shocked to see you behind him watching him then he got up from your bed and looked at you with a serious face then left without a word.

Did he just leave without saying thank you jeez.

...

After a week now, he is behind the building watching you working at a small restaurant in front where he standing he watches you carefully and admires how hardworking you are and forgets that you are a hero to this world.

He didn't mind and forgot you being a hero, he wanted you to take your attention to him after you saved him he began to develop mysterious feelings then he started to dream about you and have hallucinations of you and that can't take his thinks of you.

He was going feral obsession.

He wanted to get you and grabbed you close to him and say how you make him like this, how you make your own enemy be like this to you, he would kidnap you and lock you in his place like a porcelain doll.

But it's not the time to let that happen, he gonna wait for the right time to get you fully to him.

How many weeks did he stalk you everywhere you went and watch you work, when some man tried to talk to you or wanted to get your number he went berserk and mysteriously killed the man and that caught your attention why every time a man you talk to, dies tomorrow.

And now he is standing behind the building admiring you as you see someone get inside the restaurant and see your friend guy as he hugs you and sits in front of you as you continue cooking.

As the villain keeps his eyes on you and then on the guy as you two talk and laugh, you are not being with him but he feels like you are not allowed to be with other men like you are owned by him, you are actually soon.

When your friend guy finished eating he got up and made a call sign to call him if you need anything you nodded and he said goodbye and got out of the restaurant.

The villain noticed it and wanted that friend guy of yours to vanish and you never meet him again, he took out the phone from his pocket and called someone after talking through his phone he hung up and put his both hands in his pocket as he admires you lastly and walks away, he has a plan.

...

After your work, your boss gives you the salary and you thank him and he pats your head, he is like a father figure to you so you two are very close.

As you said goodbye to him and to your other co-workers, you got out of the restaurant and walked through the street.

While walking you hear your phone notif and you take your phone out from your bag and see an unknown number on your screen you press the message, and it sends a voice message you click to play.

- Looks like your cat is in trouble *meow*

You hear a deep voice after the sentence the sound of your cat can be heard then the voice ends.

You immediately start running through the street, after a minute you reach your house it's not far from where you work.

You quickly ran towards your door and you opened it you tried to click the lights but to no avail is the electricity was out again.

You immediately went towards your bedroom and saw a person sitting on your bed while holding your cat.

"How much you really care for your precious kitten" you heard a low deep voice you saw your cat lying in their arms, and you heard a purr as you sensed their comfortable being in their arms.

"Who are you?" You ask as you prepare yourself to put your powers but then you hear chuckles.

"Don't worry I won't do anything bad, I'm not the villain who always does bad and I need peace too?" the person said and the curtain flowed from the wind the window was opened and the moon was casting inside your room.

Then you saw their face, it was the villain who saved you and the one you saved, you let your guard down a bit and he slowly carefully put the cat on your bed then he used his power to let the cat sleep, you gasped and looked at him.

"You should lock the window before you go, my love," he said and you looked at him confused as you heard the last word.

"Ha I know this is stupid," he said as he looked at you with a serious face but there was something he admired and wanted to get it.

"After I saved I was full of guilt why would I save a person who wants to kill me, the person who was actually my enemy I don't know why I did it, you are also with this kind of thinking too?" he said and he chuckled to what he just said.

You just looked at him, yes he was right you have also been thinking about why you saved him in the first place, he was your enemy, the villain yet you saved the person who was going to destroy the world.

"To be honest... I was going crazy when I had those fake imaginations of you there beside me" he said and he got up slowly walking towards you.

"Seeing you stand in front of me staring at me like you want something," he said as he walked circle to you while his eyes locked on you.

You want to run but your cat is there, If you run towards your bed and get your cat he can quickly grab you and it's stupid if you're going to leave your precious cat.

"So much in mind, my love," he said as he said that word again as you kept your eyes on your cat sleeping peacefully in your bed.

Till he moves closer to you, you feel his breaths on your ear, "As much I want to kill you right now" he slowly says and you suddenly feel his hands on your hair as he slowly takes a strand and circles it with his finger.

"I want to keep you" he whispered to your ear and you heard a swoosh sound as you immediately knew he was using his power.

You quickly kneel down and use your telekinesis to move the chair to hit him as he backs away from you and you quickly grab and carry your cat out of the room.

You run towards the other room and use your telekinesis to close the door and lock it, you run towards the window to unlock it but it won't budge as you see a dark smoke thing, he uses his powers to lock your house.

You put your cat still sleeping in the armchair as you think of escape you look at the window once again you can't get out since there are window bars as you get the idea, you look at the window and focus your both hands on the window glass as you manage to break it and you do it to the window bars as it slowly moving out and manage it to break it too.

Before you could grab your cat the door was busted open and saw him as your worst villain, it really made him even worse.

You try to fight him back by moving the furniture to hit him but he gets it and move away from him as you keep doing it till he wraps dark smoke around your wrist and you fall down to the ground.

"You really want to hurt your cat," he said as he walked to you and grabbed your both wrists making you get up from the ground he used the dark smoke to carry your cat as you both walked towards the living room.

He pushed you to the sofa and before you could get up a fair of smoke tied your both feet you looked at him, as he carefully put the cat slowly in the armchair behind, your cat still sleeping.

He turns around to face you he looks at your innocent self sitting on the sofa as you look up at him, "Don't worry your cat is fine, I'll let him sleep for long hours, cats loved sleeping right?" he says as he stares at you.

"I've seen this before," he said as he chuckled suddenly a phone rang and he looked in his pockets took his phone, and answered it.

While he talks on his phone you look around your house to find something to help you out here, when your eyes land on a black box and you look confused at it.

Then you realize your phone is still in your pocket so you slowly take it as you look up at him still on his phone his back in your view, you look at his back he has this muscle back that can clearly be seen from his black polo shirt as you stare at it you shake your head and turn back to get your phone, are you stupid right now.

When you manage to let your phone out, you press your friend's guy number and dial as it starts to vibrate your phone, you hear a sudden ringing and you slowly look up at him and he turns around to face you again he is done talking, and takes another phone from his pocket and you saw your name on your friend's phone.

Your eyes widen and as you stare at your friend's phone, you slowly look up to him "What did you do to him!!?" You ask him more like you scream.

"He was really annoying," he said as he put the phone behind the box, you looked at him scared, scared of what happened to your friend.

"Answer me, God damn it!" You yelled at him and he looked at you his amused face turning slowly into annoyed and serious, why do you want your friend? He keeps asking in his head.

His hand reaches to the box behind him and slowly opens as you look at his movements then slowly grab inside, your eyes widen to see half of it, and scream.

"Stop! Stop!" You turn your head down as you see half of your friend's head, he beheaded him, no no no.

The villain put the head back in the box and closed it, he looked at your shocked expression as you started to cry.

"No no don't cry" he kneeled down to you and grabbed your face to look at him as he wiped your tears, "He was in our way I don't want anyone to get us" he added as he stared at your teary eyes.

"Stop please" you whisper as your eyes get teary you try to move your head away from his hands, and he removes his hand from your head.

You look at him furious full of anger, and you feel the rage inside you, he sees your expression those innocent, rage eyes looking at him it makes him even more impressed and wants you more he loves seeing you hopeless and vulnerable, he wants to kiss that lips of yours.

You look away from his gaze and try to move an object to hit him but he quickly realizes you have that ability and grabs your head with both hands and suddenly catches your lips.

He finally devours that lips of yours, he is been waiting for this as he keep dreaming of you together with him and now he is reaching those dreams right now.

While kissing you, you whimpered trying to struggle and move your head away from him but he gripped your face to him, as he stopped you felt dizzy and tired slowly losing vision, did he use something to make you feel dizziness.

You saw dark smoke again as he used his power to make you dizzy, any minute you fell asleep.

Now you fall unconscious he moves your hair strands away from your face as he admires your vulnerable self.

He finally made his dreams true he can't wait for you to be with him, even if you don't want to he will find and look for a way to make you fully be with him. He is now more obsessed with you.

That's what the villain wants, to do terrible things to reach their goals, and you were his goal after all.

[gretagerwigsmuse]

One thing I absolutely love about Bradley and Smart Aleck is how whenever she rides his thigh, he bounces her a little, and that just makes her lose it ��

Like, I can see Smart Aleck sitting on his lap while in front of his friends, and him just randomly bouncing his lap and she has to take a moment before saying or doing anything. She would be a mess by the end of the night.

Also, in your Christmas party fic, Bradley mentioned using the Theragun as a vibrator. Imagine him bringing it out and just surprising Smart Aleck with it (I've never used a Theragun, I have only seen it online so I'm not sure if this is completely correct)

this took me a minute to reply to because i wanted to actually write something for you! i was actually in a meeting at work when i first saw the message preview on my lock screen and i stg i was blushinggg so hard 🤭 because my god what a delicious thought!

yes! he’d bounce her just a little, like just enough to get a reaction out of her and get a little whimper out of her. to your point i could picture them in the hard deck and it’s a big deal that she came out with them? more below!

but also the theragun would actually hurt which is something bradley would realize the second he turned his on to even the lowest setting haha. though i do think that he’d randomly be like ‘gun me’ and have her do his back/shoulders 🤭

—————-

“well, look who decided to grace us with her presence this fine evening.”

jake looked even more smarmy than usual as you and bradley approached the group of pilots and partners holding court at a corner table. at the comment, bradley’s hands tightened where they were on your shoulders. it was a bit of a crush in the bar tonight, but he had guided you over without issue.

you completely ignored jake’s comment and his follow up about slumming it that night and greeted everyone - bob, callie, and natasha, as well as sarah costigan, whom jake had presumably dragged along. sarah even tossed you a kind smile in return. granted, she was still annoying and slightly condescending, but she wasn’t that bad. at least she didn’t head off to the jukebox and queue up hall & oates’ rich girl like jake did.

you let bradley slide into the circular booth before you and then sat on the end. being mr protective, bradley normally wouldn’t like having you sit at the end of the booth, but he knew you liked the space and ease of a quick getaway with a lot of people.

and it wasn’t that you didn’t like going to the hard deck. you just didn’t like how crowded and loud it could get on fridays and saturdays, which was when bradley’s friends tended to go. normally, the group would get together at the beach or go for a hike or even to another bar or someone’s house to hang out - and you always tried to attend - but their old standby was the hard deck and those were the nights you typically skipped.

you had been there about an hour when everything took a different turn. everyone was chatting and the music wasn’t too loud yet, and you were in a good mood, which was probably helped by the fact that you were on your third cosmo and bradley his fourth beer.

but then mickey and his girlfriend, cielo, showed up, which meant there were even more people crammed into the already crowded circular booth. you got up to give both cielo and mickey a hug and then the two of them sat down on the other side of the booth. which in turn meant everyone scooted down further towards your side.

scratch that - your side was gone.

all that was left was a sliver of space for maybe one of your bare thighs to find itself plastered against the warm vinyl upholstery. bradley quickly noticed your distress and pulled you half onto his lap. he barely broke his stride, so focused was he on his conversation with bob and callie. or so you thought.

the way he had manhandled you onto his lap was done with little consideration to your pink dress - the same pink dress from your first date some eighteen months ago - and it bunched up between your ass and bradley’s jeans. you sucked in a breath.

oh.

you were still covered, still safe from any risk of indecent exposure, but oh it felt nice having your bare skin brush against bradley’s jeans. the jeans that were stretched across his big, strong, broad thighs. did he realize? did he know?

it was nice sitting on his lap; you were content, happy, warm. safe. it wasn’t something you’d ever done in front of other people before; normally, neither of you were this bold, but you weren’t yourself, it was too loud, too warm, too overwhelming in the hard deck. and bradley knew that. he knew you were fussy. he always knew when you needed to get out of your head.

a few minutes went by and you tuned into various conversations and groups, but you eventually focused back on your little group at the end of the booth with bradley, bob, and callie. they were talking about one of the the college football games on earlier because bob was a big sec fan. at one point, the boys got so animated and bradley got so into gesturing with his hands that you slipped a little in his lap. and then -

and then bradley bounced you.

oh.

he bounced you on his thigh and tightened his arms around you to keep a better hold on you.

“sorry, kid,” he muttered in your ear and then went back to his conversation, completely unaware of the whimper you let out.

oh.

that felt nice. that felt good.

you loved when he bounced you on his thighs.

you loved when he let you ride his thighs.

see bradley liked when you’d have to work hard to get yourself off. sometimes, he made it a punishment. it was torture - he wouldn’t touch you and you’d have to work for your orgasm. you’d get so frustrated.

and once you’d finally reach your peak and your cum would streak across his thigh, he’d sink his fingers - his big, strong fingers - inside your cunt and you’d ride them for another round until you’d get rewarded with his cock.

this time the whimper you let out was a little louder, but still for bradley’s ears only.

“you okay, kid?” he bounced you again.

this time your legs spread a little wider under the table and you shifted in his lap. you were getting flustered, warm. surely the sweat was building at the back of your neck, between your thighs -

“mmhmm, just slipped.” you took a huge sip of your cosmo, hoping to cool yourself down. god, this was so embarrassing. why were you getting like this? it was just a bounce. he hadn’t even meant to do it.

please don’t let him find out.

“yeah?” bradley bounced you again and your breath caught. “can’t have that - here.”

his thumbs dug into the tender flesh by your hips, anchoring you to him. you tried to shift, tried to squirm, but he wouldn’t budge.

“th-thanks.”

you took another sip of your cosmo. it was almost done, that had to be why you were reacting this way. three drinks normally made you tipsy, but not drunk, so it had to explain your flustered state and your heightened sense of arousal.

he knew. he had to know. he had to know how wet you were. how your pussy was clenching on nothing. how you wanted him to take you out of here and let you ride him in the car. maybe he’d finger you against the bronco like he did that night all those months ago?

bradley turned back to the group. “hey, why don’t you tell bob and callie about that project you’re kicking off at work?”

“oh. it’s not - it’s not really that exciting -”

“she’s lying,” bradley squeezed your hip, “come on, tell them about the projecting you’re presenting in london.”

callie gasped. “london? again? oh, i’m so jealous! how long are you going to be gone?”

“just a - a couple days. they’re scaling this project i did in the US for the EMEA market. just a - a presentation.”

somehow, when bob asked where you were staying and if you were doing anything fun while you were there, you managed to give an almost coherent answer. almost coherent.

but then you turned the tables back on the two of them and asked if they were excited for their trip to see callie’s parents in bryn mawr. you didn’t know much about the area baring the fact that mary once went out there to interview for a teaching position, but that wouldn’t have mattered anyway since you could barely focus on the last minute details for callie’s sister’s wedding because of bradley’s stupid hands.

the first time he did it, you didn’t think much of it. okay so he took a sip of his beer and fiddled with the glass before he put his hand on your thigh. it was cold, no big deal.

but then he did it again when callie mentioned the gorgeous bridesmaids’ dresses. and again when bob praised callie’s speech draft. and again when they mentioned the welcome party on thursday was scheduled around the eagles’ game.

it was cold and you could feel your nipples hardening and your breath coming in faster and god - could everyone tell? did they notice? you didn’t want them to notice, you just wanted bradley to notice.

feeling bold, you tried to trap his cold hands between your thighs, but when bradley yanked his hand away, you almost lost your balance. and what else was he supposed to do but bounce you and get you settled back on his lap. he growled a warning in your ear.

oh god. you wanted it louder, you wanted it just for you. you weren’t wearing a bra, could anyone tell? you hoped bradley could tell.

you hoped bradley bradley knew.

(you hoped daddy knew.)

the promise of what was to come was getting to be too much. you could have blamed it on the cosmos, the noise, the heat, the number of people, but it really was just one thing - bradley.

bob and callie were talking to natasha now, so it was just you and bradley at your end of the table.

“bubs?” you looked over your shoulder to meet bradley’s eyes and knew he was just as wrecked for you as you were him. “please?”

he cocked an eyebrow, looking entirely too smug. “aww sweetheart, why didn’t you just say you wanted to leave?” all the condescension did was make you want him more.

before you could respond, before you could try and say something clever, he cleared his throat and directed his next words to the entire table.

“‘think the kid and i are gonna head out.”

it only took a few moments to say your goodbyes - hugs from those who were easily able, waves to those who were not - and then you and bradley started meandering your way to the bar.

once again, after he paid your tab, bradley guided you out of the bar with a his hands on your shoulders and a broad presence at your back. you whimpered at the thought of him inside you, your big, broad, beautiful boyfriend inside you, telling you that you were a good girl for him. such a good slut for him. for daddy.

it had been a couple months since you’d first said it - said daddy - but it still made your pussy clench and your heart beat wildly.

the moment you were out in the cool parking lot, you sighed back against his chest. the pulsating music that once felt too loud was not a calming presence away from the chaos.

“atta girl, you did such a good job with my teasing.” his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close so you could feel how much he wanted you. “you ready for your reward?”

“yes, daddy.”

———————

half an hour later, on their way way out, bob, callie, and natasha didn’t even notice that bradley’s car was still in the parking lot even after the two of you supposedly left.

they also didn’t notice that the windows were fogged up. or that one of your sandals was on the ground by the driver’s seat door. 🤭

[wlwsoccerfics]

Tiny Surprise(GiuliaGwinnXBühlReader)

Warnings: pregnancy, failed IVF tries mentioned, mental health struggles

You were getting quite frustrated. cause this was the third IVF try and once again it didn't seem to have worked. The Test you took a while ago came back negative. Both you and Giulia were quite sad and you felt like you failed her. Coming to terms that you would have to try again but over the last two days you had a weird feeling that you maybe should take another test. You didn't want to tell your wife though because you didn't want to get her hopes up.

So when she was out to go shopping with your sister Klara you took the Chance and grabbed three more pregnancy tests you still had left. You took one after another and they all said pregnant around 5-6 weeks. You started crying but also smiling. You were having a baby. You couldn't wait to tell Giulia. You quickly went to hide the positive tests & quickly went to the Bayern Campus to get a FC Bayern Munich romper for the Baby. You pretended it's a Gift for a friend cause you didn't want anyone to know yet. Giulia should totally find out first and she had to tell the coaching staff soon because you didn't want to risk anything and you sure couldn't play soccer without a risk of getting hurt or the baby getting hurt. Well and you wanted to tell Klara. Cause she was your sister after all.

You got home quickly after also buying a cute little box. You put the romper in there, the three positive tests and a note that simply said:'Hi Mommy'. Then you put it on your bed. Waiting for your wife to get home. Which she did around 20 minutes later. "Beautiful? Are you Home?" Giulia called out. You walked out of the bedroom, making your way over to her. "Hey Love. How was your shopping Trip?" You asked her, kissing her softly. She kissed back. "Good. I got some new pillows for us & new blankets!" She told you. You smiled sheepishly. "I have something for you!" You let her know. She hang her jacket up and took her shoes of by the door. Palcing the Shopping bags aside. "You have something for me?" She asked, looking a bit confused. "Yes! It's on the bed!" You took her hand and lead her to the bedroom you shared. "It's in the box." You explain and sit down on the bed with her. "Can i Open it now?" She was still confused but also curious. "Yes you can!" After Giulia got a reply from you she slowly opened it. And started crying right away. "You are pregnant?! So it worked...oh my god! Babe you are pregnant! We are having a baby! There is a Baby growing inside of you right now!" She was all over the place with her thoughts. "Yes, my Love we are having a baby!" You told her and teared up as well. The two of you hug for a few minutes before she kissed you and gently placed her hand on your stomach. "Hi peanut. It's your mommy here! We are really excited to meet you. Your Mama is the best and i just know you gonna be like her." Giulia talked to your stomach. And you gently played with her hair.

After you Guys cuddled for a bit you made an appointment at your gynecologist to have a Check up which you thankfully had just the next day. And it was before practice so you also had time to figure out your next move. If you possibly make up an injury before telling the team or sharing the news with them so soon.

The next morning the two of you got ready to see your Baby for the first time, which was so exciting. Giulia even filmed the moment you got to hear the Heartbeat for the First time. You indeed were 6 weeks pregnant. When the doctor took a moment to check though he went quiet for a moment which had you worried. But then he turned to you & Giulia who was holding your hand gently. "Congrats it's twins!" He told you and both of you started crying even more. "Babe we are having two Babies?!" You told your wife. Sobbing, squeezing her hand softly. She kissed your forehead. These are amazing News!" Finally after all the heartache you had to go through the two of you got what you always wanted. Before you left you got some Ultrasound Pictures that said Baby A and Baby B on it.

The two of you got a shirt made at a Shop that said 'Proud Aunt of Twins'. You talked about it in the Car that you would tell people now and be honest with them. The Shirt obviously was for Klara. You got a nice Box for it . Put one of the Ultrasound Pictures in it and the Shirt in top of it.

When you reached the Campus the two of you went to talk with Alex. Since he was the headcoach you wanted him to know first. You would now tell Klara and your teammates before the rest of the staff would find out.

You texted your sister and asked her to come to the medic room. But you told her everything was fine you just wanted to have some privacy to tell her something important and unfortunately all the conference rooms were booked. She quickly made her way there. Looking really confused when she saw you and Giulia smiling gently at you holding out a Box. "Hey sis! Let's make this short. This is for you!" Klara sat down on a Chair. Putting the Box in her lap. "You two are acting Strange." She told them. "No we don't" Giulia replied. Your sister opened the box & took out the Shirt but noticed the Ultrasound Pic right away. "Oh my god you are pregnant!" She placed the Box on the table and ran over to you and your wife, pulling you in for a hug. "Indeed. Currently carrying twins!" You explained to your Sister. "Twins?! Sis that is awesome! Congrats to the two of you!" Klara was offer the moon for you. The three of you talked for a few minutes and hugged alot.

You decided to announce your pregnancy to the rest of the Team today. So Klara put the 'Proud Aunt of Twins' T-Shirt on and walked into the changing room, you and Giulia walking right behind her, holding hands. Lea was the first one to notice the Shirt and put things together. "Oh my god! Congrats!" She said and run over to you and Giulia. Hugging both of you. "This is so exciting! We are getting not one but two FC Bayern Munich Babies!" Klara told them and the whole thing ended in lots of Happy tears, a group hug & the team congratulating the two of you.

You and your wife couldn't wait to welcome your tiny surprises into the world.