#i don’t talk enough about how much i love these two together | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

niningtori · 10 hours ago

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the way we were before | oneshot

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: you've been in love with beomgyu for as long as you've known him. deep down, you've always thought that he loved you, too; so when he tells you that he's engaged to another woman, you decide to break it all off after a nasty fight in which he shows you just how little you mean to him. a life-ending accident seems to put your feelings to rest, for good. just when you think it's all over, however, you awaken to a time before everything fell apart; and you're determined not to repeat the same mistakes. it's just that beomgyu can't seem to let you go.

genre: ANGST (literally so much angst it's not even funny), romance, second chancelau, rebirthlau, she falls first but he falls harder, possessive!beomgyu

warnings: mcd (and rebirth), somewhat graphic depictions of death/a corpse, suicidal thoughts, you can interpret a scene at the end as somewhat suggestive but not really

word count: 12.7k

notes: this work contains a lot of angst... and that's coming from ME. this might be too sad to the point of being corny but luckily i was born on the cob. don't be mean to me tho i'm going thru it rn. feedback also means the world 2 me <3

some things are a matter of course. for example, when you were initially paired with beomgyu for a project in your senior year of college, it was a matter of course to fall in love with him. supporting him morally and emotionally while he struggled throughout the rest of the year and well into his adult career? well, that was a matter of course, too. being with him every day, spending every spare second you had with the intention to make him happy, and giving up any concept of self-preservation in exchange for even a morsel of his affection? the answer doesn’t even need to be said. through it all, you’ve suspected that all of the intimacy that you’ve nurtured will inevitably end up with you two being together, of course.

you haven’t done any of it for the outcome. truly, you haven't. you make him happy simply because it makes you happy just to see him shine. he’s always been such a bright, sunny boy, and it’s always been enough just to be the one who helps maintain his true personality. it absolutely kills you to see him hurting, so it isn’t unusual to drop everything, be it work or social events, just to give him advice, give him comfort, or even just give him company. while he certainly doesn't show his affection towards you as profusely as you do to him, you know he cares about you. you can see it in the way he notices the little things about you, and in the way he listens to you with full attentiveness, even when you have nothing particularly interesting to tell him. when everyone talks over you, he tells you that he wants to hear what you have to say. and that’s enough.

with all of this in mind, you jump at his invitation to hang out at his apartment. he’s been a little distracted lately, cancelling plans together for reasons unknown. it’s been odd, to be sure, but you know he’ll tell you whatever’s been bothering him soon enough. he always does. you greet him with takeout from his favorite restaurant in tow as a surprise, and he takes it with that smile you love so damn much. he looks a little nervous, but happy, mostly, and you don’t have to wait for very long before he clears his throat and announces that he has something important to tell you.

you try not to get your hopes up, but who can blame you for feeling a hint of anticipation? maybe he’ll finally confess his feelings to you. maybe that’s why he’s been a little weird. naturally, since your mind is racing so much with romantic hypotheticals, of course it comes as a shock to you that he simply says, “i’m getting married.”

beomgyu, notorious for never even having the time nor interest to date around, is not only dating, but engaged. your jaw drops when he tells you that it all happened so quickly, he doesn’t even know how it unfolded. all he knows is that once he met her, a whirlwind romance swept him up, and just a few months have been more than enough for him to know that she’s the one. in fact, as he so fondly declares, he knew it from the very first moment he saw her at the dinner between the company you two work for and her own. the one where you were his “date”. you knew that it wasn’t a real proclamation of love or affection for him to ask you to accompany him, but you can’t say that you weren’t beaming with pride and validation at you being his natural choice. when you arrived at the dinner, you remember some of your coworkers jokingly whispering to you to just make it official already. you spent the night mostly by his side, looking up at him in admiration and love. as it turns out, the time you spent fawning over him was equally spent with him falling in love at first sight with another woman. you weren’t even apart for very long, but apparently he met her when you two broke apart to mingle.

it’s a kick in the chest, to put it bluntly. you feel the wind being knocked out of your lungs, and you’re struggling to breathe. the first time you caught a glimpse of him, you knew that any attempts to stop yourself from falling in love with him were hopeless. his smile, his charm, his playfulness immediately had you enraptured. you’ve always, always known that he didn't have a similar experience with you, but you just assumed that he simply isn’t the type to be caught up in such childish romanticism. you've always loved him outwardly and persistently, and you've shown him that in every single way you possibly know how. you dared to hope that maybe he was just the type to quietly reciprocate. obviously, with how emphatically he’s professing his love for another woman, you were very, very wrong.

“what's the matter? aren't you happy for me?” you struggle to answer, but he continues as if he doesn’t notice. “you know, i was thinking you could be, like, my best man. i've seen people do it these days—you'd pretty much be my best woman. i really want you to do it. there's no one else i can think of to—well, actually, there's soobin, but you’re my—”

“beomgyu,” you sharply interrupt, wetness pooling in your waterlines. beomgyu may be a little emotionally slow, but he’s not stupid. you know he knows that you've had feelings for him since forever ago. while it hurts, the fact of them being unrequited isn't what really gets you; it’s the fact that he doesn’t have the decency to just tell the truth. he took advantage of your love for him, always calling for you when he needed you, without ever really doing the same for you. “what… what about us?”

“what about us? you’re my best friend, and i want you to be part of my wedding,” he says smoothly, but you level him with a watery stare. as if realization finally dawns on him, he replies in a way you sincerely did not anticipate.

“c’mon, you know i don’t see you like that,” he chuckles with a wave of his hand, and you really would’ve rathered him say literally anything else. you’d prefer it if he had just punched you in the stomach, actually, because that would feel considerably better than this… this humiliation. you’re silent for a moment before you feel the tears you’ve been struggling to keep in cascade down your face. to his credit, he has the decency to look uncomfortable, and his playful smile drops. before he can reply, however, you speak again.

“you knew how i felt about you this whole fucking time, you were just too much of a coward to be honest with me,“ you declare. “if… if you had just told me, i would’ve understood. i-i would've—you didn't have to do it this way.”

“listen, i’m sorry that you’re hurt, but i really didn’t mean—”

“are you really sorry that i’m hurt, or are you sorry that i showed you i’m hurt?” you cut in. “beomgyu, you don’t care about how i feel, just as long as you don’t have to be the one to deal with it.”

“i’m—you're being unfair. i didn't want to hurt your feelings, i just wanted us to stay friends. what's so bad about that? don't you want that?” he seems genuinely puzzled, as if he can't wrap his head around why you'd ever be indignant at the fact that he stayed friends with you mainly for his own comfort.

“jesus christ, beomgyu! a real friend would never do this. you kept me around so i’d keep helping you with work, with life, with what the fuck ever. why can't you just be honest, after all this time? just don’t lie,” you spit.

“i'm not lying! you've helped me a lot, and i'm grateful for that, but you can't expect me to just owe you my feelings,” he snaps.

“that's not what this is about, and you know it,” you tremblingly reply, dignity cut right to the bone.

“seriously? that's exactly what this is about. you're the altruistic angel who does nothing wrong, and i'm just a fucking scumbag who takes advantage of you, right? well, i'm sorry, but it's not my fault that you're acting so goddamn crazy over something so stupid.” your eyes burn with an intensity so great, it feels like they're being seared out of your skull. in this moment, you realize that he will never, ever respect you enough to consider you worthy of being leveled with. he doesn't think you're even worth the time. you're his silly, lovesick best friend who's absolutely delusional to the point of being laughable for suggesting that he actually take you seriously, for once. and that revelation breaks you like nothing else.

you won’t do this anymore. you couldn’t even if you wanted to, and you don’t.

“i never want to see you again,” you sob, and while it may seem juvenile to say, you truly mean it. before you can hear beomgyu reply, you dash out of the building and to your car.

everything is a blur when you peel out of the parking lot and onto the road. your eyes are pouring out thick, hot tears, and you try your best to swipe them away as soon as they come, but it’s difficult when they’re seemingly endless. you don’t even attempt to hold in your sobs—they’re far too deep and frequent for that. if someone were to glance at you through their window, they’d think you were absolutely insane. and maybe you are, you don’t know. maybe you’re insane for thinking that things could’ve ever been any different. maybe you were just imagining everything that seemed like confirmation that he loved you back. maybe it was all a delusion because you wanted it so fucking badly. and maybe that’s your fault.

but did he really have to crush you like this? he knew you were in in love with him. he knew you were waiting for him. he knew what he meant to you. why couldn’t he have just been honest instead of stringing you along? to ask for him to return your feelings would’ve been too much, you've always understood that to be the case; but even to the bitter end, he’ll call you crazy before he tells you the truth.

you try to keep yourself focused, but everything’s a blur with your eyes bleary with a film of tears. you have half a mind to just pull over and have a meltdown on the side of the road, but before you can do that, you hear your phone ringing. you pick it up in a frenzy, silently hoping that it’s beomgyu with an apology, but the number is unknown. you don’t even have time to feel disappointed before you look up and see that you’re barrelling past a red light. in a panic, you realize that you’re about to crash headfirst into another car. you swerve your steering wheel as hard as you can, seemingly avoiding danger, but the sight of a tree coming closer and closer into your vision paralyzes you with fear. you try to brake, but you’re going too quickly for it to be of any use.

the collision is bone-shattering in the literal sense. you’d think you’d feel adrenaline alone in such a situation, but you can feel pain bursting out of every cell of your body as you still after being thrown back and forth in your seat. every organ, every bone, feels like it’s just been crushed, and not for the first time today, you’re struggling to breathe.

as you slip out of consciousness, one immovable thought resounds in your head: i wish i never met him.

the sound of your alarm ringing pulls you out of the darkness. your eyes shoot open and you sit straight up in pure shock. while you pant—just trying to catch your breath—you grab your chest, clutching at your shirt as you feel your heart drumming erratically. did you survive? you scramble out of your bed and look in the mirror. there’s nothing on your face. no fresh wounds, bruises, no scars from what just happened. that can’t be right. you know you were torn up from the collision, and there’s no earthly way you came out of it unscathed. was it a dream? it can’t be; you can still feel the phantom of pain on every inch of you, even when there’s no indication of any material harm. you remember every second you spent before and after wrapping yourself around that tree. does that mean you’re dead? are you in the afterlife?

that doesn’t seem right, either. you don’t know much about what the afterlife is supposed to be like, if there’s even one at all, but this feels too real and familiar. you reach for your phone, with its alarm still blaring, and as you hit snooze, you notice the date. it’s just a few months before… before everything happened. did you go back in time? is that even possible? you try to reconcile yourself with that fact for a long, long time. so long, in fact, that you don't even realize you're supposed to be heading to work until it's five minutes after you're supposed to be there.

as if on cue, your phone rings with your boss’ contact displayed on the screen.

“hello,” he says as casually as anyone ever can. this just solidifies the idea that your accident must never have happened, because if it had, he certainly wouldn’t be greeting you as if it’s just another day.

“h-hey,” you attempt to reply, and your voice is so choked and thick with emotion, he can hear how badly you’re struggling to speak at all.

“is everything alright?” he asks, concern laced in his tone. that’s enough to make you break, and before you can stop it, you’re outright sobbing into the phone.

“i’m—i just—i don’t think i can come in today.” you fumble for an excuse, but it’s difficult to think straight as you feel your mind breaking down. “i, um, i—”

“hey, it’s okay. you can take the day off, alright? don’t worry about anything, just focus on feeling better.” his words, so comforting in nature, do nothing but make you cry even harder. it feels nice to be cared for like this. if you had the coherence to think so, you’d wonder how baffled he must be at your behavior. luckily, you’re far too gone to care. you think you end up stammering out something similar to a thank you, but you’re not quite sure. either way, the call ends, and you collapse onto your bed. you curl yourself up and tuck your knees to your chest as you grip yourself as tightly as you can. this is real. you’ve gone back. thank god, you’ve gone back.

you cry and cry until no more tears will come out, and while you try to keep yourself awake as the hours pass by, the relief you feel coalesces with the enticing nature of your soft bed, so you can't help but drift off. it’s different from the way you drifted off mere hours ago. it’s a lot warmer and kinder, and you're so, so fucking tired, you don’t even want to fight it anymore.

a knock on your door wakes you from your sleep. it’s a good thing, too, because you were having a nightmare. rejection, devastation, primal fear, mind-numbing pain, then total darkness repeated incessantly in your head for hours on end. you swipe away your tears, but they continue to flow as you practically drag yourself to your door. you’re so disoriented, you don’t even think to check to see who it is before opening it. what a mistake that turns out to be.

“hey! whoa—are you okay?” he asks, and who else could it be besides beomgyu? your heart pounds in your chest, and even more tears stream down your face as you let out a sob. his mouth contorts into a frown. his face, previously so endearing to you, makes you feel absolutely repulsed. you lost everything for the figure standing before you, and he has the nerve to ask you if you’re okay. a fire is ignited in your stomach, and you feel yourself on the precipice of carnal rage. while you’re trying to suppress that feeling, he speaks again.

“i heard you called in, so i thought i’d check on you. do you have a fever?” he questions, reaching out his hand to check your forehead for abnormal warmth. without even thinking about it, you smack his hand away.

“don’t touch me,” you all but growl, but beomgyu is undeterred.

“what’s the matter? i don’t care if you get me sick; i could use the time off,” he teases with a grin, but your face remains twisted up in pure anger.

“get out,” you mumble between clenched teeth.

“what?” he asks, and it's unclear if that's because he's confused, or because he simply didn't hear you. either way, you don't care.

“get out,” you repeat, louder this time, but not lacking any of the previous anger. your erratic behavior is enough to finally irritate beomgyu.

“fine, whatever. forget i even bothered,” he scoffs as he stalks out of the door. you slam it behind him before falling to the floor. this is your chance. you came back too late to avoid ever meeting him again, but it’s still good enough for you. from now on, you two will live completely separate lives spent being nothing to each other. owing nothing to each other. again, you find yourself sobbing in relief.

when you return to work the next day, the first thing you do is head to your boss’ office. he looks relieved to see you for a moment before he notices the envelope in your hand. with the way his smile drops, you know he immediately knows what it is.

“what’s that?” he asks, though the tension in the air is more than enough confirmation that he has no doubts about what the letter reads.

“my resignation,” you tell him.

“may i ask what this is about?” he probes. no, he can’t, because even if you told him, he’d never believe you.

“i just don’t think this position is right for me,” you deadpan, and the look on his face shows that he doesn’t really buy it.

“you’ve worked so hard for so long, and you want to give up now?” he has a point. your company is on the brink of a major deal with another company, which will result in a financial breakthrough like none other, if successful. as fate would have it, said company is the one in which beomgyu’s future wife works, and the dinner where the two of them met is the celebratory party for such success. you’d laugh at the circumstances if you could. “whatever the issue is, we can work it out. just don’t leave before we do this. we need you, and even if you want to leave after we close the deal, you’ll still be rewarded for everything you’ve done. don’t you want to see that happen?” you do. you really, really do. you’ve given so much of yourself for this opportunity, and you really want to see it work out. you guess, in a way, you already have seen it; but if you leave now, that’ll never happen. this particular project needs you to get off of its feet.

but can you really stand to see beomgyu for a second longer? have his mere presence fuck with your head? is it even worth it? you’re about to declare that it most certainly is not, but you stop yourself. the money will be good for you to start a new life. maybe you’ll move buildings, maybe even to a new city, maybe across the country, who knows? you’ll be more than comfortable with this potential payout, and then you can start a new life somewhere where you know nobody, and nobody knows you.

“i want a new partner, at least,” you counter, and his face morphs into a grimace. he’s undoubtedly confused at your sudden aversion towards beomgyu, but he doesn't mention it to you.

“that’ll be difficult. i need you both for this to work.” you’re about to flatout deny him, but he continues. “if you can just make it through this, i promise that you can go wherever you want to go, and i’ll even give you a bonus for your trouble. deal?” you purse your lips as you mull it over. if you can suffer through being partners with beomgyu, your move will be considerably easier. still, you’re undecided before you have an epiphany: in just a few months, beomgyu will meet his future wife and fall head over heels in love with her. all you have to do is ignore him until then, and he’ll inevitably leave you alone once he meets her. so what if beomgyu’s here? you don’t want to care about him anymore. and once everything’s settled, you’ll pack your life away and start somewhere without the bad memories.

“okay,” you reply, and his face breaks out into a grin.

beomgyu is very visibly ruffled today, which you would immediately notice if you just spared him a glance, but you do no such thing. your lack of attention towards him serves to only rile him up even further. he wants to be stubborn—act out until you apologize to him, but once he realizes you have no intention of doing so, he finally relents and approaches you.

“hey,” he says coolly, still a little annoyed, but prepared to forgive you. you look up at him blankly, and he’s unsettled by just how empty your eyes look, so he nervously asks you, “are you… are you feeling better?” you look at him as if he just spouted the most asinine question of all time, and for the first time ever, he feels small under your gaze. he shifts awkwardly on his feet before you break the silence.

“i’m fine,” you tell him. he waits for you to ask him how he is, but the words never come. in fact, you turn away and bury your nose in your work as if he’s not standing there, waiting dumbly for you to respond as you usually would. well, whatever. you’ll have to talk to him, eventually. especially since you two are working on such a big project.

you don’t really talk to him, though, aside from what’s absolutely necessary. for most of the day, you silently slide papers over to him without even deigning to look at him while you do it. when you do have to speak to him, your words are cold and detached, as if even speaking to him is a chore. it’s like you’re looking past him, almost. like you don’t even really see him, and he’s never felt as unsettled by a gaze in his life.

at lunch, you quietly remain at your desk instead of joining beomgyu like you usually would, and you can't quite bring yourself to eat. you just feel sick by this entire situation, and while you know you need food to survive, you’re sure you’ll vomit if you try to eat anything.

beomgyu, on his part, leaves you alone, though he desperately wants to try to get you to eat with him. he won’t admit it, but he’s actually afraid that you’ll reject him again. he doesn't know why, but the thought of you doing so slashes at his heart. this is a mystery to him. he shouldn’t really care if you reject him or not, since he’s been quietly rejecting you for years, but he can’t help it. still, as he watches you space out at your desk, he tries to will himself to bear the brunt of a possible denial before a coworker he recognizes approaches you.

you don’t even notice mingi walking up to you, so you jump in surprise when he greets you. you’re pretty familiar with him, but you’re not particularly close, so you’re a bit surprised by his arrival.

“can i sit with you?” he asks, grinning as he asks it. you nod in response, and he grins even wider before he pulls up a chair and seats himself in front of you.

“are you going to eat?” he questions, and you shake your head.

“not hungry,” you reply. he frowns.

“you still need to eat. you need energy, especially since you’re working so hard.” you’re actually a little sheepish because of his words. so he’s noticed how hard you’ve been working? it feels nice to be appreciated. is he worried about you?

“i’ll eat later,” you lie. he seems a bit reluctant, but he eventually nods.

“make sure you eat, okay? i’ll—i’ll text you and make sure you have. is that alright?” you’re stunned for a few seconds before agreeing, and he ends up sliding you his phone so you can put your number in it.

beomgyu watches it all from his desk, and he feels a sense of loss. is it because you’re directing your attention elsewhere? that has to be it, right? it can't be any deeper than that, but somewhere nearly unreachable inside of him, he feels an unfamiliar sensation scratching at his heart, begging him to acknowledge it. but he shakes away the thought. you’re acting really weird, but that’s okay. you love him, and you’ll get back to normal really soon.

that’s what he tells himself, but you remain as cold as ever throughout the rest of the week. you don’t look at him with those adoring eyes, and you don’t even crack a smile at his attempted jokes. he feels like he's going insane, as if he's on the brink of understanding something really important, but he can't quite make it there.

it all comes to a head when beomgyu shows up late back from grabbing lunch. he's done this a million times before, and he's always been greeted by your insistence that his tardiness isn't a big deal. in spite of the tension between you two, he still assumes that you'll be as forgiving as ever.

“hey, sorry i'm late. i got caught up with eating and didn't realize how late it was getting,” he says casually. he searches your face for any traces of leniency, for the indulgence you used to give him, but there is none. only anger, and maybe even something like regret, though he can't quite understand the latter.

“don't be late again. we don't have time for this,” you say coldly before sticking your nose back into your computer, effectively ignoring anything else beomgyu could say to placate you.

you two work late into the night. beomgyu gets so caught up in his work, too afraid to draw your ire again, but when he realizes he hasn't heard any noise coming from you in a while, he peers over to see you staring blankly at the wall. your face seems expressionless, but your eyes are what horrifies him. dead, empty, hopeless. “a-are you okay?”

the sound of his voice does nothing to break you out of your trance, however. in fact, it seems to have triggered something in you, decimated a dam that was already leaking. your eyes still look blank as tears begin to leak out of your eyes. they fall slowly at first, then incessantly. it's hard to reconcile the steady stream with the way your face remains completely devoid of emotion.

tentatively, he places a hand on your shoulder. suddenly, you're jolted awake, eyes now looking as composed and indifferent as ever.

“are you okay? w-what's wrong?” he asks anxiously,

you hurriedly wipe away your tears before you say, “nothing. just thinking about something.” you redirect your attention to your work, just trying to fully shake the way you were just locked into the memory of you dying alone.

“what could you possibly be thinking about to make you look like that?” he asks concernedly, his voice unintentionally rising in frustration. your eyes harden before you turn to him.

“none of your business,” you say firmly. before he can say anything, you're packing up your things. “i'm going to call it a night and go home.”

“wait! talk to me! what's been bothering you so much lately? you've been weird for a while now, so just tell me what's going on with you. i'm here. i'm listening,” he says as gently as he can.

“you're here? you're listening?” you sneer. “i'm so honored that you finally give a fuck about how i'm feeling,” you say sarcastically. he frowns at your words.

“what are you talking about? i'm always here for you,” he says, and he looks so genuine, it makes you even angrier. he sincerely thinks he's telling the truth. so fucking clueless and selfish.

“are you? do you think offering up your ear once in a blue moon makes you an altruistic angel or something?” you know he can't understand that you're throwing his own words back in his face, because he can't even remember saying them, but you don't care. it just feels too damn vindicating to stop yourself. “beomgyu, you're only as available to me as is convenient to you. you'd never put yourself out of your way to comfort me. meanwhile, i've always been ‘here’ and ‘listening’ at your will. i don't need your pity, and i certainly don't want it.” he's stunned into silence. you're absolutely correct, he realizes with a sinking feeling. before he can formulate the words to defend himself, you pack up your things and leave the office.

in the following weeks, you realize that mingi is… nice. really, really nice. you’re not used to prospective romantic partners actually seeming to like you, so the feeling is foreign, but not unwelcome. do you have feelings for him outside of appreciation? well, not really. in the back of your mind, you honestly doubt that you’re even capable of having feelings for other people anymore, but you try not to think about it too much. if you seriously search for an answer, you fear you won’t like what you find.

mingi is diligent, though, and you like that about him. now that you’ve made it clear that you’re not involved with beomgyu (and never want to be), he’s pulling out all the stops to charm you. lunches you would previously spend with beomgyu are now spent laughing with mingi. in the same way, downtime at work, which would normally entail catching up with beomgyu and maybe helping with a few of his assignments, are now reserved for chats with mingi. as beomgyu watches you two giggle with your heads together, he wonders what you two could possibly be talking about to ever be that funny. his jaw ticks in irritation at the scene. most notably, though, is the fact that instead of spending your off days with him, you flatout reject him with no explanation. not even with a perfunctory “sorry”. he doesn't have to wonder what you’ve been doing when he hears your coworkers gossiping about how you're always hanging out with mingi.

beomgyu feels you slipping away, and it brings a sense of panic he’s never known before. but why? he shouldn't care about your romantic endeavors. granted, you haven’t had one during the entire time that you've known him, but it’s only natural that he supports you as your best friend. best friend. does that term even apply to him anymore? he wants to insist that it does, but as the weeks turn into months, your disgust for him becomes clearer and clearer. as he sits across from you and mingi at an after-work dinner with your department, he watches as mingi flirtatiously whispers into your ear. when some of your coworkers tease the two of you about it, he realizes with sickening certainty that he doesn't just want to be your best friend, he wants to be the one who sits next to you. he wants to be the one your coworkers joke about being your boyfriend, and he wants them to be right about it. the time you two have spent apart has shown him that he can't imagine anyone else occupying the space beside you. with an overwhelming sense of clarity, beomgyu realizes that this feeling, so deep and all-consuming, is love.

how could he not love you? regardless of everything you've done for him, you're still so perfect to him, for him. he finds himself appreciating things he previously took for granted. you're beautiful, caring, funny, and smart. he loves your smile, your laugh, your company. he loves the way you look when you're focused, the way you look so innocent when you sleep. you're the first person he wants to tell any time something happens, good or bad. you're the face he wants to wake up to in the morning. you're the only person he trusts to be his partner for the rest of his life. and now, it's clear that he can't just let you go without a fight.

as everyone begins to leave the restaurant one by one, he follows you out into the parking lot, determined to make his feelings known. even if you don't reciprocate them anymore, he's willing to put in the effort to make you love him again. and even if you don't… even if you can't… the desire to simply be next to you supersedes the need to be loved back.

you don't realize that beomgyu is trailing after you until you get to your car. he calls out your name as you're about to pull the door handle. with a sigh, you turn around.

“what is it?” you ask flatly.

“are you serious about mingi?” he asks firmly, but he already knows that you are not. the way you look at mingi is laughable compared to the way you looked at beomgyu before your sudden change in behavior.

“yep,” you say.

“no, you're not. i can tell,” he argues with conviction.

“oh, and you know me so fucking well, huh?” you snark.

“i do,” he tells you, stepping closer. “i know you, and i know you don't really like him. not really.” damn. he caught you.

“just because i don’t like him now, doesn't mean i can’t like him later,” you insist.

“so what? you’re just going to string him along while hoping you’ll like him someday? are you just going to spend the rest of your life never really caring about anyone? you can't live like that.” his words leave no room for argument, but you’ll be damned before you don't at least try.

“you’re right, i shouldn’t lead him on, but what’s it matter to you? even if it doesn't work out with him, maybe i’ll meet somebody who i can tolerate, and who can tolerate me. i don’t think i need anything more than that.” beomgyu flinches at your bizarre words, but he's already reconciled with the idea that even if you don't want him anymore, he'll still take whatever you want to give him with a smile on his face.

“then what about me? i… i can be that person.” he's so nervous, you can tell that it took all of his courage to say that. but who cares?

“you can’t,” you argue.

“why not?”

“that would mean i’d have to be able to tolerate you, and i don’t want to do that.” not anymore.

“why are you acting like this? you’re acting like i’m so fucking horrible, but you used to lo—” he stops himself, but you both know he was going to bring up the love you had for him. “i just want to know what changed.”

“i did. i changed.”

“but why? i mean, i didn’t realize it before, and i know i wasn’t always the best, but i’ve always had feelings for y—”

“don’t even bother finishing that sentence. you don't like me at all,” you sneer, “you just don’t like seeing me move on.” this makes him pause, and even you don’t have the heart to pretend like you can’t see the hurt in his eyes.

“why can’t you ever just believe me?” he asks quietly. “i’m telling you i love you, but you don’t even care. i’m saying that it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but you’re acting like… like i'm disgusting to you.” he looks like he's about to cry, and it makes you all the more frustrated.

“you don’t understand,” you reply in between clenched teeth.

“then help me understand. i just want to know why. i just want to know how to fix it. how can i bring you back?”

“you can't. look, i’m—” and you’re about to apologize, but you just can’t make yourself do it. “you’ll get it really, really soon. you won’t even remember feeling this way, i can promise you that, and you’ll forget all about me.”

“what are you talking about?” he says exasperatedly. beomgyu may not have always been the best of friends towards you, but he can recognize when you’re holding yourself back. “what aren't you telling me?” you purse your lips in response.

“nothing. there's no point in saying anything, because you wouldn't understand even if you tried. you wouldn't remember—fuck, never mind. just let it go, beomgyu. i have.” but he can't just let it go. this whole fucking thing as an enigma to him. but your words are… odd. what do you mean he wouldn't remember? there's nothing to remember, no matter how much he tries. before he can respond, you get into your car and drive away.

“c’mon, you know i don’t see you like that,” beomgyu tells you, forcing an awkward laugh. your expression immediately crumbles, and he begins to shift uncomfortably when he realizes that he must’ve said the wrong thing. your silence is deafening, ringing in his ears, but he still tries to maintain a smile. maybe you’ll lighten up. maybe you’ll go back to the way you were before. maybe you’ll even crack at smile at this ridiculous situation when you realize that he’s right in his assumption that you’re just being emotional. your feelings for him can only go so deep, right? you can go back to being friends after this, just the way he likes it.

his smile is wiped clean off of his face when your eyes redden and well up in pure, unadulterated hurt. hurt he’s never seen before. he fumbles for the right words, but before he can find them, you break the suffocating silence.

“you knew how i felt about you this whole fucking time, you were just too much of a coward to be honest with me. if… if you had just told me, i would’ve understood. i-i would've—you didn't have to do it this way.” any delusions beomgyu has that you’ll just let this go are promptly flushed away at your biting tone. jesus christ. you’re right, and he knows it. he flounders for a response, but nothing he can possibly say could really be enough.

he spends the duration of the argument mainly trying to defend himself. honestly? he doesn't want to remember everything you two say, but he knows he's being nasty in an effort to keep himself from reconciling with the fact that he is, indeed, a coward. he knows he’s never been the greatest friend to you, though he’s always justified it by recalling the times where he did do thoughtful things for you. when you tell him that your resentment isn’t about the fact that he doesn't feel the same way, but because of the fact that he won’t own up to his actions, he feels a stab to his pride. before he can stop himself, he lashes out.

“i never want to see you again,” you choke out between sobs, and he feels a piercing pain shoot through his body, all the way down to his bones. you don’t mean that. there’s no way you mean that. you care about him. you love him, and even if he doesn't feel quite the same way, he loves you, too. but one look at your resolute face is enough to tell him that you mean it. he wills himself to say something—anything—but you rush out of the door before he can quite muster up the courage to speak.

he stands in a stunned silence for longer than he could ever rightfully justify, but a call from an unfamiliar number eventually pulls him out of his daze. usually, he’d reject it and chalk it up to spam, but something tells him that he should—needs to—answer it. with shaky hands, he accepts the call.

“h-hello?”

the response mostly sounds rather clinical in nature, really. there’s a perfunctory greeting before the monotone voice detachedly states that there’s been an accident, and he will need to come to the coroner’s office to accurately identify the corpse, which had been declared deceased at the scene. as it turns out, he was your first emergency contact.

“we are deeply, deeply sorry.” the final words are the only ones that seem to hold any hint of an emotion in them, but beomgyu is too preoccupied to hear it. in a daze, he gets in his car and makes his way to the coroner’s office. hoping, praying, needing for this to be a bad dream. as he comes to find out, it is not.

beomgyu’s head whips up in horror, and he’s panting like mad in between whimpers. tears incessantly pour out of his eyes, wetting his flushed cheeks. was it all a dream? there’s no way; it was too real to be a dream. he was there—he lived it. no, no, no…

“beomgyu?” a voice says, somewhat breaking him out of his panic. his bleary eyes snap up to the doorway to see you standing there, your eyebrows knit with concern and confusion. you two have been working late again, awkwardly alone together once more after his confession. you saw that he had fallen asleep, but he looked so tired, you couldn't bring yourself to wake him up. “are… are you okay?” he's absolutely frozen as you tentatively approach him, pausing a bit uncertainly before approaching him to get a closer look. he grabs you and tugs you towards him, wrapping his arms around you in an almost bruising grip. he nuzzles his wet face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent in between shudders.

“beomgyu, are you sick? did you have a bad dream?” you ask. his heart would flutter at your concern, concern you haven’t shown him for so long, in any other context; but as it is, he’s far too distraught to appreciate it.

“i… i remember,” he croaks, trying to get even closer to you, as if doing so is the only way to keep you safe. you’d like to break out of his embrace, but he’s so distraught while you’re so off-guard, you don’t do it just yet.

“remember what? something about the project? we can—”

“no. i’m—i remember… i remember losing you.” he can’t quite bring himself to be any clearer, but you seem to understand him, anyway. you stiffen in his arms before prying him off of you. he fumbles for you, just to touch you again, but you push him away. you exert very little force, but it’s firm and unrelenting.

“oh,” you reply, looking a little lost, but mostly just cold. he's basically wailing now, but he tries his best to answer.

“i’m so, so fucking sorry. i didn’t—”

“what, you didn’t mean to? you’re sorry? maybe so, but does it matter?” you cut in, almost snarling. now that he remembers, all of the feelings, all of the resentment you’ve kept bottled up come tumbling out of your mouth. “what's the point in telling me this now, after everything? you’re not sorry, beomgyu. you only care because i’m—because i was gone. i don’t want to hear about your regrets; they’re worthless to me.” he recoils as if you just punched him. his eyes turn even redder than they were before, too, and he’s silent at your words.

he wants to tell you that you’re wrong, because he really is sorry, but can he truthfully say that he’d realize his feelings if you didn’t… go? he can’t. for all he knows, he’d have rejected you forever. he's so ashamed, he'd rather die than feel this way. even so, he wants to attempt to explain himself; you deserve that much. before he can reply, however, you rise and stalk towards the doorway. it’s reminiscent of the way you left when everything happened, and he desperately tries to follow you, grabbing your arm before you can make it out the door.

“don’t touch me. don’t you ever touch me,” you seethe, ripping yourself out of his grip as if the mere feeling of his hands on you burns through your skin, and he staggers backwards. he keeps his arm somewhat outstretched, though. just in case you change your mind.

“don’t leave like this. i-i don’t want you to get hurt.” not again.

“what’s it matter to you?” you sneer. “you didn’t care before, so i won’t waste my life on you ever again.” his eyes widen in terror, and tears fall even more profusely than they already were. you begin to leave, but to your regret—and to his anguish, the angriest part of you forces you to turn around and face him again.

“do you want to know what my last thought was?” you ask, face mostly blank besides the slight traces of disdain in your eyes, and he’s too terrified to move or even speak at all. he knows whatever you say will be something that breaks him, so he tries to shrink himself to be as small as possible; subconsciously praying that doing so will make him disappear in the face of your anger. still, your eyes remain locked on his face—narrowing in on him regardless of his efforts. “it was of you, actually. i was wishing i’d never met you.” he visibly flinches as he gasps sharply, feeling like you just knocked the air out of his lungs. he feels like he can’t breathe. it would have felt better if you had just ripped his heart out of his chest, because as it is, it’s aching so badly, he wishes you had.

his lips tremble, and he looks like he’s just heard the worst news of his life. and he has. you hate him that much? you regret all of the time you had together to the point of wishing it had never happened? he’s never, ever regretted a moment he’s spent with you, but he guesses your company has always been better than his. how could it not be? you’ve always given him more than he could ever reasonably ask for, and even if you hadn’t, you’re still a much better person than he is. better to the extent of making him realize just how unworthy he is.

he lets you leave, but his anxiety makes him frantically pace about the room. he tugs at his hair, willing himself to calm down, but he just can’t. after a few minutes, he texts you and asks if you made it home. to his relief, it says that you’ve read the message, so he knows you must be okay. still, you don’t respond.

the deal is tied up exceptionally smoothly; you’ve done it before, after all, so that comes as no surprise. on the night of the celebratory dinner, you take mingi as your date. you’ve already told him that you don’t see things panning out, but he actually takes it really well. maybe telling him that you’re planning on moving helped smooth things over. still, he insists that you accompany him to the dinner, just as friends. you oblige.

it’s mostly the same as you remember. you spend the night mixing with your coworkers for the last time, and it’s bittersweet. they don’t know that this will be the last time you see them, as your two weeks before resignation have already passed in secret, and you’ll spend the next few weeks just packing and finding a new place to stay far, far away from here. it’s freeing, in a way.

at some point, your manager announces that he’ll be making a toast, and the room quiets as everyone’s attention is placed on him.

“firstly, i’d like to celebrate the success of this collaboration. everyone has worked hard to make everything come to fruition. secondly, i’d like to recognize two of the people who made this possible.” he specially thanks you and beomgyu, which is normal, but the unexpected happens when he voices his regret that you’ll be resigning.

your coworkers look at you in shock, but one person in particular is especially stunned. beomgyu. your manager probably thanks employees of the other company, too, but he doesn’t hear it. other voices, other people, are drowned out by the buzzing in his ears. you’re leaving, and it's all because of him.

he tries to drown his feelings in alcohol, stomach burning with every round, but the regret never seems to numb. the room seems to be spinning, and he looks visibly ill. eventually, a familiar figure takes a seat next to him. ah. his previous fiancée.

“hey,” she says, somewhat coyly. he doesn't respond. “wow, are you okay? you look a little green. how are you getting home?” again, he doesn't respond. she actually appears to be embarrassed, but she tries one more time.

“i actually—i came over here because you're really… cute. if you don't have a way home, i can take you. i won't try anything on you, but i can't just let you go home alone. and maybe, you know, when you're sober, we can—”

“beat it,” he snaps. he knows it’s not her fault, and that she hasn’t done anything, but he still can’t help his resentment, even when it should all be directed towards himself. but his recognition of his unfairness isn’t enough for him to care. she blinks in surprise and embarrassment, rising from her seat in defeat.

beomgyu continues to drink until he’s on the verge of passing out, putting his face in his hands. he draws attention from everyone, but he doesn’t have the mind to care. people try to approach him, but he flatly rejects everyone who attempts to offer their help in order to ensure that he gets home safely.

“should you… should you take him home?” mingi asks. it’s obvious who he’s referring to.

“it’s not my problem,” you reply, a bit more curtly than you intended.

“you’re right, it’s not. but you’re the only one he’ll listen to, and i think you know that.” mingi argues. you sigh. he’s right. as much as you want to blame beomgyu for everything, you’ve come to realize that after the conversation—more like confrontation—you two had, you’re not angry anymore. it was hard to see in the moment, but you’ve begun to question your merciless stance towards him. isn’t it partially your fault that things turned out the way they did? he didn't make you check your phone that day, so isn’t it unfair to completely blame him for everything?

with this in mind, you approach him. he initially bats you away, assuming you’re just another one of his coworkers, but your voice pulls him out of his drunken stupor.

“c’mon. i’ll take you home.” his head whips up in surprise, and he almost thinks you’re joking, but your face is completely serious.

“o-okay,” he replies, sounding extremely docile. you don’t respond, but you begin to walk ahead of him as you head to the exit. he’s having a hard time even following you as he clumsily staggers through the crowd, following you like a lost puppy. hesitantly, he reaches out for your hand, though the fear of you telling him not to touch you remains. you turn back to see his fingers hesitantly outstretched to your hand, and with a look of resignation, you let him grab it as you lead him out.

the ride to his home is a silent one. beomgyu rests his head upon the cold window as he stares at the scenery outside. he doesn’t really take anything in, far too dazed to appreciate the view, but he looks, anyway.

when you enter his apartment, begrudgingly letting him lean on you for support, you take him to his bedroom. he plops down onto his bed in an unnaturally clumsy manner.

“th-thanks for taking me home,” he says meekly.

“mm,” you reply, no inflection of emotion in your tone, getting ready to leave and head to your apartment.

“w-wait! can you… can you stay here tonight?” you look at him doubtfully, but before you can resolutely deny him, he begins to retch. with widened eyes, you pull him up and drag him to his bathroom. he hunches over the toilet and lets everything go. he’s trembling after he’s finished, and you clean him up as best as you can. he melts into your touch as you gently wipe his face. you’re not soothing him with your words like you would’ve a few months ago, but your care, no matter how unwilling you seem to give it, is something he revels in. he brushes his teeth, but he keeps his eyes on your pensive reflection in the mirror. after he's finished, you speak.

“i’ll stay,” you tell him.

“w-what?” he questions, eyes watery.

“i’ll stay for tonight. i’ll take the couch. i just don’t want to leave you when you’re feeling like this. it’s dangerous.”

“n-no! you can stay in the guest room.”

“i need to be able to hear you if something happens,” you argue.

“th-then i’ll sleep on the couch. i don’t want you to—”

“beomgyu, you need to properly rest. if you don’t sleep in your room, i’ll leave.” his face crumbles before he acquiesces with a strained nod.

“good,” you say with a ghost of a smile at his blind obedience, but he's too drunk to notice it. if he had, he would’ve clung to it like a man drowning.

“thank you,” he solemnly whispers.

“goodnight, beomgyu.”

“goodnight,” he says, and you rifle through his drawer for some clothes before heading to his living room and changing. you pull out spare blankets from his linen closet before sliding onto his couch.

you sleep rather peacefully, but beomgyu has no such luck. instead, he's pulled into a dream—one he comes to realize is a memory.

when beomgyu arrives at the coroner’s office, there is a moment, albeit brief, that he sickly hopes that it’s literally anyone else in the world, but when he sees you—body mangled nearly beyond recognition—he realizes that there is no such mercy. apparently, you didn't even die on impact, but by the time somebody reached you, you were already gone. he doesn't want to imagine how you must've felt, being alone in your last moments, but he feels like he should. against the warnings of the coroner and surrounding police officers, he demands for your face to be uncovered. he can surely identify you based on frame and clothing alone, but for reasons he doesn’t dare to dwell on, he feels like he just has to see. he just has to be sure. he just has to know what he did to you.

and he does come to know it. to his eternal regret, he begins to know it at that moment, and consequently, every moment after. as it turns out, they suspect that you were looking at your phone before you swerved off of the road. he doesn’t know how, but he’s instinctively sure that it’s because you were waiting on his call. one resounding thought thrums incessantly in his head: it’s all his fault, all his fault, all his fault.

your face is bloody, barely even showing any of the underlying skin, and marred from shattered glass. he swallows thickly as he reaches out to touch you, running his hands over the gashes on your face as softly as he can as to avoid hurting you, and he can’t help but wonder if it’s at all possible for him to tend to your wounds. he would go over single one, softly patching you up back to normal; but you're already cold to the touch, and though you definitely can’t feel anything, his mind imagines how much it must hurt to have him caress the gaping wounds on your face. he snatches back his hand, as if his touch is poison to you.

“s-sorry, i’m really sorry!” he panickedly exclaims. “i-i won’t—i didn’t mean to hurt you.” he’s unsure if he means that in the current physical or the previous emotional sense, but does that really matter? he already has. besides, you can’t feel anything anymore. all of your muscles are relaxed, leaving you devoid of any expression as your eyes hollowly stare up at the ceiling. for a moment, he wishes the hurt he saw in them a mere hour ago was still there. anything would be better than the current blankness of your features.

the blankness remains, however, even after all of the makeup and superficial repairs done to make you look like you’re only peacefully asleep. to him, you just look dead, no matter how badly he wishes the former were the case. as much as he wants to speak at your funeral, he does not. he doesn't deserve the dignity to speak, much less to properly mourn you. not after what he said to you. not when everything that's happened is all his fault.

the breakup with his girlfriend—or fiancée—is more bothersome than he can handle. in between her pleas and attempts to reason, all he can do is coolly recite the constant refrain: “i’m sorry, i just don’t want to be with you.” she tells him he’s just grieving, that he’ll get over it with time, and she wants to support him while he does it; but he montonously repeats his words as if they're the only ones he knows. in her anger and desperation, she tells him he’s making a mistake, and that he’s just feeling guilty because of your unrequited love, which ultimately proves itself to be the categorically worst thing to say. he finally explodes, telling her that she was the mistake, that he doesn't know what he ever saw in her that even closely compares to you, and he'd take every moment with her back if he could. she's the biggest regret of his life, which previously felt like it had only just begun, but now feels like it stretches far beyond what he can tolerate.

in the days, weeks, months that follow, he struggles to understand how something so unjust could occur. it doesn't make sense. really, it just doesn't make sense. eventually, even his initially patient friends grow weary of his neurotic harping upon how unfair it is, how sudden and wrong it all is. he should be punished. you shouldn’t have had to be the one to suffer, but you were. what kind of justice is that? what kind of universe allows something so cruel to happen right under its nose?

when everyone finally tells him that it’s time to move on and let go, he resorts to speaking to the only person who can’t argue back. you. he visits you every day, bringing you gifts on christmas and your birthday, and even just when he sees something he think you'd like. in a way, they’re almost like sacrifices to you to atone for what he did. his contrition. he spends many of his visits by raving like a man gone mad at a stone slab. he likes to think that you’re agreeing with him, that you see the unfairness for what it is. he’s realized that he loves you, has always loved you, but he was too self-absorbed to notice. as hypocritical as it is, he’s only noticed after you… left, and he’s more disgusted by himself than he ever thought possible. still, he thinks you deserve to know. you deserve for him to be brave and tell the truth, but who cares? what’s the use of only recognizing it after everything he’s done?

he apologizes to you while crying about how much he misses you. he tries to tell you about other things, too. about the things he thinks you would’ve liked to hear. about current events he decides you’d find funny or interesting, about life updates on your friends that you’d want to know, about how a new album has been released by an artist you really liked, and that he can't quite bring himself to listen to it yet. he’ll definitely listen, though, someday. he’ll give you his opinions after describing each track in great detail, once he’s able to bear it, that is. you always look(ed) forward to their releases, so it’s the least he can do to repay his debt to you.

but if you owe someone a debt as deep as their life, how can you repay that debt when they’re no longer here to collect it? if he really thinks about it, there are a lot of things he owes you. he owes you the years you spent caring about him when he couldn’t be bothered to reciprocate a fraction of the same courtesy. he owes you every thoughtful action, every encouraging word you wasted on him. he owes you the time you dedicated to make sure he always felt seen, felt understood, felt loved. yes, he owes you a lot of things—too many to properly account for, actually. and now, he even owes you your life. his debt is so heavy, he crumbles under it every day, squirming pathetically beneath the crushing weight of it all like an insect. the worst part is: he owes you more than you ever asked him for. all you wanted in return was honesty, but it appears that even that was too much to ask from him.

he wishes you were here to punish him, to scorn him for being such a fucking bastard. yell at him, hit him, kill him. anything would be fine—he’d tolerate it all—just as long as you were still here. he’d be perfectly content with your hatred, he’d revel in it, even; but he supposes that he doesn’t even deserve that much. as it is, your silence is the most punishment he can receive, but that doesn't feel like it's even close to enough. he finds himself praying for mercy, for some bizarre, cosmic event to put him out of his misery once and for all. he indulges in the idea that if he plays his cards right, if he begs and pleads enough, he’ll find you again. such a notion is initially enough to placate him, but it is to his horror when he realizes that he’s more afraid of that than anything else. what if he finds you, and you tell him, “i never want to see you again,” just like before? such a terrifying outcome is enough to keep him from snuffing out his own light with his own two hands for good. he’d rather live as if he were dead than hear those words again.

so he does. he lives like that for years, decades, until death mercifully takes him. he lives quietly and utterly alone. no wife, no children, and hardly any friends. if your life was robbed from you by his actions, then it’s only right that he lives as if his own were robbed from him, too. it’s the least he can do to atone for what he’s done. what keeps him up at night, though, is the possibility that it’s just not enough. if you do meet him again, what will you say? will you still tell him that you don't want to see him? that the lifetime he spent regretting everything he's ever done pales in comparison to the price you paid for caring about him? as the darkness overcomes him, however, he realizes that you deigning to say anything at all to him is better than your unbearable silence. his final thought before he's swallowed whole is: please, just let me see you one more time.

beomgyu awakens in a cold sweat, panting heavily as he struggles to understand where he is. is he still alive? that can’t be right—he clearly felt himself slipping away. but what if he can’t die? what if that’s his punishment? the thought alone is enough to elicit a guttural, “no, no, no!” out of him as he realizes that his nightmare is not yet over, and may very well never be. tears pour down his face as he wails like a child.

“beomgyu?” you say as you walk through the doorway, looking somewhat sleepy and disheveled in clothes he subconsciously registers as his own. when he looks at you, he's relieved, but the regret he feels is what overwhelms him.

“oh, god. i'm—it's all my fault.”

“what?” you ask, still a bit disoriented from just waking up, seeing as how it's still the middle of the night.

“it's all my fault. it's all my fucking fault. i did that to you.” suddenly, you realize what he’s saying, and your heart clenches at his words.

“beomgyu, no. i was distracted. i didn’t see—”

“you were distracted because of me. you thought i was calling you, i just know it. you were there because of me. because i’m a fucking coward who couldn't just tell you the truth.” you don’t know what to say. did he really blame himself for everything? even after all of this time? before you can answer, he speaks again.

“i saw—you just looked so small. i've never—i didn't even think anyone could bleed that much. you were so cold, a-and your face was—”

“hey, hey, hey, stop it,” you say firmly, but gently, “you're not—”

“they said you died at the scene, all… all alone. and i know i was the one who did that. if i had just listened to you, if i had just been honest with you, you would've been alright. but i called you crazy. i said you were being stupid. w-why did i say that? what did i do it for?”

“look at me,” you say firmly, which makes his unfocused eyes zero in on you. “listen, listen to me. it's not your fault, okay? i used to feel like it was, but now i understand that you were scared. i know you couldn't control how you felt about her, and you were right about you not owing me your feelings. you could've been honest, but that doesn't mean you killed me.”

“no, i did it. i did it. i did that to you. if i had just—”

“gyu,” you sigh, and his heart can’t help but stutter at the nickname you haven’t called him in months. “i’m telling you it’s not your fault. i used to blame it all on you, and i was wrong for doing that. but you get it now, right? you're supposed to be with her. you love her.”

“no, no, no! i don't. i really don't,” he desperately exclaims, trying to convince you in the only way he knows how.

“maybe not yet,” you concede, “but you will. once you get to know her, you'll want to spend the rest of your life with her. that's how it's supposed to be, just like before.”

“there is no before,” he cuts in pleadingly. “i lived and died alone, just like i deserved. i just—i love you so much, i couldn't stand to let you go.” you frown at his words—they make you actually feel guilty. even so, you guess that it's time to let the purgatory you find yourselves in go. besides, maybe he needs an apology to finally put it all to rest.

“i'm sorry that—” his heart drops to his stomach. please don’t say it. he’s begging you not to say it. not to someone as unworthy and filthy as him.

“don't. please, please, don't apologize to m—”

“—i made you feel that way. even when i hated you, i never wanted you to live like that; but you can't mistake guilt for… something else. maybe this is another chance to get it right. you can be with her guilt-free, and i can live without regrets.”

“no, i-i didn’t break up with her because of guilt! i did it because i realized that if it’s not you, i don’t want it to be anyone else. it can’t be anyone else.”

“you don’t know that,” you sigh. “you think you feel that way, but you’re just sad that things ended how they did.”

“you’re wrong!” he exclaims. “i didn’t realize it—i was too stupid to realize it. and i know it’s disgusting of me, but i only… i only understood it after i lost you. i-i’m sorry i didn’t realize it before, but please don’t tell me how i feel. i spent every day wishing i would just fucking die so i could see you again. i just couldn’t stand living without you. that’s not normal—that’s not how friends feel, no matter how guilty they are. i just wanted to die.” you purse your lips at his words as you feel dread pooling in your stomach. at least when you died, you didn’t suffer for long, but he suffered for the rest of his life. in the same way, you didn’t want him to hurt himself, no matter how angry you were.

beomgyu has begun to hyperventilate, but he doesn’t take his eyes off of you—too afraid that you’ll disappear if he does. he’s probably having a panic attack as tears stream down his face, and he ruthlessly tugs at his hair in pure distress. all he can do is repeat that it's all his fault and how sorry he is, and any lingering resentment you may feel dissipates like smoke at his absolutely shattered state. it seems like he really can't live without you, so are you sure you can abandon him like this? you don't think so. although it may not be right, you still think that it's worth a shot. you don't think he has the capacity to hurt you ever again, and you realize that even after everything, you don't think you can love somebody the way that you love him. so, you're willing to let him try again.

“hey, hey. stop it,” you coax, seating yourself on his bed. but he can’t stop it, he physically can’t. he’s whimpering now, like a wild beast with a mortal wound. you don’t hesitate to take him into your arms, holding him tightly as you shush him. “shh, it’s okay, i’m here. don’t cry. i’m here, and i won’t leave again. i promise. just breathe, in… then out. that’s it, just like that. good job.”

eventually, his breath begins to even out, though his body is still racked with shudders. you’re here. you’re okay. you promised that you won’t leave him, and you always keep your word when it comes to him. he finally feels like he can breathe, and even though he’s in so much pain, he still wishes this moment will never end. he wishes he could stay in your arms forever, never letting you leave his side. always staying where he can reach you.

“better?” you ask, pulling away to get a good look at him, but he shakily grips your sleeve in sheer desperation. he just has to be touching you, somehow. he forces himself to nod.

“good,” you say, eyes soft and lips slightly upturned in relief. he almost loses it again at the sight of your smile, no matter how small. he never thought he’d see it directed towards him again in this life or the next. “do you want to start over?”

“s-start over?” he asks. he doesn't dare to let himself hope that you mean what he thinks you mean.

“start over,” you nod. “we can try again, okay?”

“oh, p-please,” he begs. he’s so pathetic. he doesn’t deserve your mercy, but he supposes he’s too selfish to reject it. you look at him for a long, long time with soft eyes. you’re not angry anymore—he’s suffered more than enough, and you finally believe that he loves you just as much as you love him, and maybe even a little more than that.

“you promise you won't hurt me again?”

“i promise. i swear to god—”

without a second thought, you gently cup his face in your hands, which makes his words catch in his throat. his eyes widen as you lean in while pulling him towards you. when your lips meet, he’s electrified to his bones. he melts into the kiss, whimpering slightly at the feeling of your lips against his. when you break apart, you rest his forehead on his own, closing your eyes as he stares at you before he does the same. he clutches the hand you have on his face and grazes his thumb over it as he lets out a contented sigh. nobody has ever made him feel this way before, and if he could go back to the first day he met you, he’d tie you to him immediately.

“thank you, thank you so much,” he whispers. with a smile, you press your lips against his again. he falls into the feeling just as easily as the first time, and you push him down before continuing to go even deeper. before completely giving in.

you spend the night loving and being loved in a way that you never thought you could. you feel cherished to a degree you previously considered impossible. beomgyu reveres you as if you’re his god, and he shows you as much with how loving and gentle he is. when you’re finished, panting heavily against each other, he holds his hand against your cheek as he stares at you in awe.

“i missed you so much. i love you so much. i promise that nobody will ever love you as much as i do. i promise that nobody will ever treat you as well as i will. just don’t leave me, okay?” and when the time comes, even if you do leave first, he’ll be sure to follow you. he won't let you be alone ever again. but he definitely can’t tell you that, or else you’d yell at him for not caring about his life enough.

“okay,” you tell him with a sleepy smile, and he beams before kissing your forehead and letting you drift off. he stares at your peaceful face, resolving to always give you what you want, no matter what it costs him. even if it kills him, he'll gladly do whatever it takes to ensure that you're happier with him than you could ever be with anyone else. he'll prove to you how much he loves you, and he'll pay back the debt he owes you a million times over. you'll see. he’ll marry you, start a new life with you, and chain himself to you forever; which may sound selfish, but he’ll make up for his willfulness by being everything you could ever want and need. and finally, before he joins you to sleep, he thanks the universe for having mercy on him—for letting him see you again.

notes pt. 2: ... so? LMAOOOOO i hope this was worth the wait bc this work was so hard for me to get through it was making me so sad to write it. anyway, love yew. please don't be mean to me tho like if u don't like it just close your eyes n scroll 🙏

permanent taglists: (sfw only) @defnotleee @yaoizee @tubatukimoa ([n]sfw/sfw) @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @midwinterblizzard @sooberryworld @20-cms @hyueika @boba-beom @vicurious28 @blossommi @lickingan0rchid @katsukis1wife @binniebakery @notevenheretbh1 @shymexican @that1sadgrl @archoive @paegesoobin @buttercreamerie @ifwtxt @softesyoongi @serenityism00 @fairfootedflekk @kyanmeai @definitelynotherr @hyunj00 @taehyunluvrs @m00gyu @denleave1088 @hwanghyunjinismybae @bmo-bri @todorokiskitten @choikanghuening @naoristerling

join one of my taglists here!

#niningtori #the way we were before #txt angst #beomgyu angst #txt ff #beomgyu ff #beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fic #txt fic #txt x reader #txt x you #beomgyu x you #txt x y/n #beomgyu x y/n

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altruistichellhound · 3 days ago

Text

Beastars Boyfriend Head cannons!

I’ll be doing a separate post for the shishigumi. Let me know if you want anyone added to this.

I made this as non specific and gender neutral as I could. I wanted everyone to read this and imagine themselves as whatever person/animal you see yourself as.

Legoshi

Legoshi cannot control his tail around you. Smile at him? furious wagging. Laugh in the sweetest of ways? furious wagging. Kiss him? He’s taken off like a helicopter with how fast his tail is going.

Absolutely loves being close to you! Cannot get enough of your scent, breathes it in more than the air around him.

Territorial of you, anyone looks at you and he’s pissed. Not that you can tell, or anyone else really. Isn’t outright jealous/confrontational unless you are out right disrespected. Absolutely not afraid of getting in fights for you.

When Legoshi is comfortable he will go on and on about his interests. He is so incredibly smart, especially when it comes to bugs. At this point you’re pretty much an entomologists.

Teaches you about the way of the sea and some of the seas language. (You’ll probably be pronouncing it wrong the same as him..)

At the beginning of your relationship he found it hard to communicate his feelings, not he fully able to express his wants and needs. It works very well for the both of you as he is an incredible listener.

Very oblivious…

Loves taking you on dates, especially private ones like picnics and star gazing.

You>Anything else

Louie

If you don’t come from a deer family of high value you’ll be his secret.

He might not show it with words but lord does this man love you.

Endless, and I really mean endless gifts. You offhandedly mention something you like? Oh what’s this, he bought it for you! He’s out and he sees something that reminds him of you, bought it. “Oh that’s cute!” Boom he bought it.

Secretly likes it when you give him massages. Poor man is so stressed out he needs that extra care. He wants a quiet life with you. One where he can be the beastar but come home to your little cozy home where it’s soft and quiet.

Knows you guys simply cannot exist together but pretends like it’s not reality…

Openly jealous, “I don’t like him”. Tells you when he thinks someone has bad intentions. Tries his best to protect you but sometimes it’s slightly misguided.

Acts like he needs to be the dominant one in the relationship but really likes it when you take control.

A balance of all out luxury dinners and simple little cafes you two like to frequent.

If it comes to it he would give up everything, including his relationship with his father; for you.

Gohin

Works out in front of you totally not on purpose. Flexes his muscles when you just happen to be looking at him.

Gohin is such a tease! Doesn’t matter what it is he’ll make fun of you for it. If you don’t like it he’ll tell you it was just a joke but he takes it very seriously and makes sure not to tease you like that again.

Tries his best to keep you away from his work. If you want to help he will tell you no until you persist so much he caves. While he loves you he cares about your safety more, so much training. He will run you until you colapse; he would never forgive himself if something happened to you.

Tea after training/work. He enjoys making you two a drink then sitting and talking about your day between sips.

Even if it doesn’t feel like it I promise you he listens. If he is busy or stressed he will respond with simple, hmm and mhms. However, he heard everyone word and won’t forget what you’ve told him.

At first he’s an awkward kisser, but he’s a quick learner and you’ve never had a better kisser in your life.

You remain the light of his life.

Bill

Childish. Not necessarily a bad thing but sometimes you want to beat him with a stick.

PDA to the max, you’re his and he’s yours. Why shouldn’t the people know? Hold his hand and steal quick kisses please.

Not the best at planning things but he’ll try his best. His goal is to make you happy and have something that will last.

Doesn’t really think about a serious future that much. Not that he doesn’t want to be with you, just that he hasn’t planned ahead enough to really put thought into marriage and a possible family.

This man makes you late to almost everything. Unless it’s the club, he is not on time.

You basically aren’t ever not laughing. He loves to see you smile and squirm around while you laugh so hard your stomach starts to hurt. Surprisingly his jokes are actually funny and land quite well.

All his friends know you very well, all he does is brag about how amazing and hot you are.

Jack

The sweetest man to have ever existed.

Had a crush on you for thee longest time before he either got the courage to talk to you or you finally went up to him.

Wants you to be happy, in his mind he can never do enough for you. He doesn’t want you to be happy, he needs it. If you are sad or angry he tries his darnedest to make cheer you up in a way that suits you the best. Listening, taking you out, leaving you alone, really whatever you need he will give.

Snores. Not loud though, sweet little snores and huffs throughout the night. At this point you can’t sleep without hearing him.

Always smells weirdly good. Like it’s unnatural how he always smells the same and it’s never bad. He could sprint three miles and still smell insanely good. When asked about it he just shrugs.

Constantly blushing! He can’t help it around you, doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together.

Collot

You trim his bangs. He lets you but in all honestly doesn’t trust you after you cut them way too short last time. He won’t tell you that though.

Suspiciously calm, makes him a good listener but sometimes it’s frustrating when he doesn’t get mad with you.

Speaking of anger he hasn’t really gotten mad with you. Maybe a few spats here and there but he has never once raised his voice at you.

Worst sleeper in the world! Moved, kicks, loud sleeper, talks. How did he kick you in the face? You don’t know and neither does he. Scares the crap out of you, “He’s coming.” You proceed to violently shake him until he wakes up and reassures you back to sleep.

Really likes playing video games with you or just doing things quietly next to each other.

Riz

Tries his very best to control himself around you after what happened. Really doesn’t matter to him what species you are he’s constantly afraid of hurting you. Cannot let go of you even if he’s afraid.

You on the other hand aren’t afraid of him. He told you what happened and you understood him. He would never hurt you, or so you think.

Protective as hell. Does not matter who it is no one will ever get to you.

Practically worships you. Would kiss the ground you walk on if he could. Lives to serve you, you want something it’s already been done.

Constant cuddles, he always wants to be the big spoon unless he’s sad. Being around you makes him feel powerful knowing in that moment you are untouchable. When you hold him he feels vulnerable, he hasn’t decided if he’s okay with that feeling yet but he knows that it feels good to be the one being protected for once.

Really likes cooking with you and for you.

Pina

Best way to describe him is annoying, but in the best way possible.

Can, and will, talk your ears off. Constantly yapping about something and expects you to listen. He’s offended if you ask him to give you even a second of silence.

Really loves it when you touch his horns.

Best lashes in the room, better than you and he will constantly brag about this. He tells you he’s joking (he’s not).

He’s just a little bit of a freak, “Eat me.” Doesn’t matter if you’re a carnivore or not. “What the hell Pina?” You can’t tell if he’s being serious…

He knows absolutely everything about you. Some things you didn’t even know about yourself! Not only does he know you but he knows everyone else. Tells you all the best gossip and keeps you up to date with rumors even if you don’t care.

Definitely needs someone to keep up with him.

Melon

Crazy but that’s okay!

Would kill someone if you asked him to. Neighbor pissed you off? Gone. Boss is being a dick? Gone. You tend to abuse this fact.

Okay he does not know how to express his love for you. He’s not even sure if what he’s feeling his love. He knows he oddly doesn’t want to hurt you but is that love? Who knows he’s just going with it.

This relationship is pretty much the definition of playing with fire.

You get to see such a different side to him, quiet and maybe even a little soft. Sad maybe? Is it an act? You don’t know but you’ve decided it’s okay not knowing you. Even when you have that nagging feeling that you should care.

Potentially likes you so much because you are very similar to him.

Won’t ever tell you or anyone this but he likes it when you hold him. He also enjoys that you aren’t afraid of his fangs. Will bite you if you let him.

Would both love and hate you even more if you were a hybrid.

Gosha

Biggest softy with you. Would do absolutely anything for you, to him, you are nothing less than the universe.

Thinks you are the most wonderful thing to have ever graced this world. He loves to show you it too. Random gifts, always brings you fresh flowers before your last ones die.

Evening walks are the best with him. As the sun turns the clouds orange and pink he’ll tell you about his adventures as a youth and his previous dreams of becoming the beastar.

The best support you’ll ever have. He whole heartedly believes that you can do anything you set your heart to. Encouraging your passions and making sure whatever you need to meet your goals is there for you to use.

You’ve never felt so safe than right by his side, and rightfully so. No one would even think to mess with you with him around.

Everyone knows you too are together, he’s made sure of that the way he runs around bragging about you.

Yahya

Tries his best to keep you and work separate. This is not only for your safety for also for him. He never expected or wanted a relationship because of his goals but when he saw you he just couldn’t let you go.

Manages balancing you and protecting the world pretty well. Though, he is in fact just a man like everyone else.

Missed dinners often which turns into arguments which ends in mutual apologies and making up.

He is so tired. Needs you to rub his shoulders and lightly scratch his back.

Can’t really sleep but if you tell him stories or hum softly while playing with his mane he knocks right out.

Keeps you out of the public eye because he knows that if he didn’t you’d have a target on your back. Constant security watching you from afar.

Makes sure to provide a good life for you first and foremost, but also is very focused on changing the world. It is a relationship based on understanding on both ends. Compromises have been made.

You are the closest thing to his heart and constantly on his mind.

#legoshi x reader #beastars fanfic #beastars x reader #beastars louis #louis x reader #riz x reader #pina x reader #Beastars Jack x reader #beastars yahya #yahya x reader #beastars gosha #gosha x reader #beastars bill #beastars collot #beastars gohin #gohin x reader #beastars head cannon #melon x reader

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who-can-touch-my-boob · 21 hours ago

Text

<- love and deepspace masterlist

Hey, so guys—I’m gonna write a whole ass theory/not-theory post about love and deepspace. Please give me your own thoughts and excuse my rambling it’s 2 am and I’m supposed to be asleep.

—

No but I actually need the LI to interact in game, I know (think or read somewhere) that the love and dating parts are separate timelines and in the “main” timeline MC doesn’t romanticise any of them(?). Anyway not my point, my point is that they all canonically exist in the same place and Caleb is probably the one tying everyone together.

I swear I believe it was Caleb that Rafayel talked to in the nest place where he lead MC so she could find the Onychinus. There was also a TikTok someone made (probably as a joke) of why Rafayel’s reaction to MC feeding him an apple threw him off.

Caleb is also Zayne’s childhood friend, but alright I’m gonna take a little spin off and ask;

When Zayne is reborn, does he remember everything immediately? Does he as a child bear memories of his previous lives as an adult? Or does the memories come to him with age?

Because IF the case is that Zayne already as a child knows of his past with MC and still has the powers of seeing the future, did he perhaps purposefully become friends with Caleb and MC?

Alright back to the main plot point of my post.

I dunno much about Xavier because I don’t have his full 5-star myth yet, but I do know he’s travelling through space and time (?) and that dude knows some shit. He’s most likely also being extra overprotective because of Caleb, like he’s maybe met an alternative version of him in the past?

Oh, but then there’s Sylus.

I’m just saying, Zayne, Rafayel and Xavier all helped MC find the Onychinus and if they truly thought she would be in life threatening danger they probably would’ve stopped her.

I don’t know how!!! But I’m just yapping so stay with me, ok? They all wanted her to find Sylus, because Sylus is the only one strong enough to protect her.

They probably know about the aether cores, that MC can use the dragon to their advantage. However they didn’t realise that MC and Sylus actually share half of each soul, that they are two kindred spirits.

Oh-ho! But Caleb knows, and Caleb haaaates it. Because he, the one who imprisoned Sylus to begin with, wants nothing more than to see the dragon back into the abyss. Because Caleb, the whole reason he’s in MC’s life is to get to Sylus.

Knowing she’s the key to the dragon, he decides to use her, manipulate her into thinking he’s nothing but a kind and loving friend. Sadly, Caleb didn’t anticipate that he too would be smitten by MC.

So everything just turns complicated now, because in the “main timeline” where MC doesn’t romanticise any of the LI, they’re all very much in love with her.

Gods and when they finally all meet… I’m envisioning like the Deepspace throwing every universe together, causing the past, future and present to mash up and fuck the whole reality… and something something Ever.

#love and deepspace lore #love and deepspace #lads #lnds #lnds sylus #lnds zayne #lnds rafayel #lnds xavier #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace xavier #lnds caleb #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #lads sylus #lads zayne #lads xavier #lads rafayel

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hayleythesugarbowl · 2 days ago

Note

I was really inspired by smoshs most recent video where they go back and rewatch their first video appearances so here is a request!!

this does not have to be based on a specific video but just more of an idea.

I would love an ian x reader who is on the crew but makes appearances here and there like spencer. where they react to a compilation of them basically being in love because they are a really huge ship in the fandom, and it makes them realize feelings, and you know how it goes from there!!

Shipped || Ian Hecox x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist ��˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: when you and ian watch fan compilations of yourselves for a video, you realize how much you actually like each other

word count: 2.4k

warnings: swearing

a/n: ahh this is such a cute idea! i’m so sorry it took me so long to get to love, hope you enjoy 💌

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey guys, today (Y/n) and I are going to be getting married!”

There was a chorus of laughter from the crew as Ian went off-script.

“That is not what’s happening,” you said, in your best news anchor voice.

“She said no, cut the video,” Ian joked, spiking the camera.

You laughed, rolling your eyes at him as he continued the intro.

“But seriously, it is Valentine’s Day and to show you all how much we love and appreciate you, we’re going to be reacting to some fan compilations. Specifically compilations of us, because apparently, and Erin would be so proud of me for using this phrase, you ship it.”

Ian gestured between the two of you. It was true. You’d started out at Smosh as an editor but after appearing in a TNTL Crew episode, the audience loved you and you kept making more and more appearances on camera.

You were almost a regular cast member at this point. The new Tommy, people called you. And ever since you had begun appearing more regularly, fans had started shipping you with Ian immediately.

It helped that you two were good friends and that most of the videos you were in, he was in as well. You and Ian had been close for a while now, ever since you’d started at Smosh a few years back.

You’d never thought of you guys as anything more than that though. Friends. But it was fun imagining the fans analyzing your interactions and making more of them. You couldn’t wait to watch the compilations.

“We have compiled some edits and videos that you guys have made that are apparently about me and Ian,” you said. “I guess now that Shayne and Courtney are married and there aren’t enough clips of Angela and Mater, we’re ‘the ship’.”

Ian nodded, laughing. “We haven’t watched these yet but I can’t wait to get started so let’s jump right in, shall we?”

“We shall. This first one is called ‘ian and (y/n) being endgame for 17 minutes straight’ by rogertheredditor. Do we need to give a definition of endgame for Daddy Ian?”

“Hey!” Ian protested. “I watched avengers.”

That got a laugh from the crew and you put a hand on Ian’s shoulder.

“Ok,” you said. “Let’s dive in.”

You pressed play on the video and watched as clips of you and Ian came on the screen. Most of them were from videos you were in together, Reddit stories and TNTLs and challenge pit. You leaned your elbow on the table, giving the laptop all of your attention.

───────↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺───────

“Oh my gosh, Ian you can’t say that on camera!” You exclaimed as Shayne laughed, the iPad almost falling out of his hands.

“Well if James Charles didn’t want me talking about it, then he shouldn’t have done it,” Ian defended.

You smacked Ian on the shoulder as you laughed and he shoved your hand away yelling ‘cooties!’

This only made you giggle more and you threw a pillow at him. He caught it, pretending to repeatedly hit you with it.

───────↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺───────

You pressed pause. “I don’t even remember what you said. I just know we had to bleep it out.”

“Oh I do,” Ian said, laughing. “It was—”

“Next clip!” You interrupted him, pressing play.

───────↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺───────

“Watch this” you told the camera, glancing at Ian in the stool. “This is about to be the fastest bit in TNTL history.”

Ian looked at you with confusion in his eyes as you walked towards him, leaning in to whisper something in his ear.

He immediately spit his water and you clapped, feeling triumphant. Ian choked on water as he lost it.

“Wait, now we have to know what you said!” Courtney exclaimed, coming out from behind the divider.

“Inside joke,” you informed her.

“Wait, (Y/n),” Ian said, gesturing to you to come closer, a mischievous smile on his face. “Remember…”

He leaned in and whispered something in your ear and you both started laughing again.

“Get a room!” Angela called from off camera.

───────↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺───────

“Dude, I remember that,” Ian said, stopping the video.

“And we did get a room after that,” you joked. You remembered that moment too, you and Ian laughing over something no one else would’ve understood. You didn’t realize there were so many of these kinds of clips of you and Ian.

“(Y/n) stop! They’re gonna believe you and then this clip is going to be put in edits.”

“You’re welcome Ian and (Y/n) shippers,” you winked at the camera.

“Wait, we need a ship name,” Ian announced.

“Put our ship name on the comments,” you said, starting the video again.

───────↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺��──────

“Oh my gosh, I’m gonna puke.”

You waved your hand in front of your face as you tried to swallow—whatever was in your mouth.

“What you are eating—or, drinking—is called ‘The Birthday Smoothie’,” Courtney read from the card. “Anchovies, birthday sprinkles, spice drops, and cream of wheat.”

You gagged and Ian put a hand on your back, laughing.

“Can we fly in the puke bucket for (Y/n)?” He asked, looking at you in amusement as you grabbed on to the table, covering your mouth.

Courtney handed it to you and you turned, emptying the contents of your mouth into the bucket. Ian rubbed your back as everyone reacted.

“You’re ok,” he chuckled.

You came up a moment later, wiping under your eyes and fixing your hair.

“That was disgusting.”

“You’re so dramatic,” Ian rolled his eyes. “It couldn’t have been that bad.”

“Oh yeah, tough guy? Care to try it then.” You gestured to the smoothie still sitting on the table.

“I would but—I’m on a diet so…”

You giggled, rolling your eyes.

“Oh, you have a—” Ian trailed off, reaching to carefully pull a strand of hair off of your mic, tucking it behind your ear. “There.”

───────↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺───────

And that was the end of the video. You sat there for a moment. You of course remembered that Eat it or Yeet it—in fact it was only filmed a couple weeks ago.

But you hadn’t realized how sweet Ian had been.

You couldn’t get the image of him rubbing your back out of your head. Of him tucking your hair behind your ears.

You turned to Ian now, only to find he was already looking at you.

“Um—well that was the first compilation. What did you think Ian?”

“I think I looked good in all those clips so I’m not complaining.” Ian shrugged.

“Ok Buddy,” you teased. “On to the next one. This one’s called ‘more ian and (y/n) clips that make anthony jealous’ by amangelalover9. Let’s jump in.”

This video had some of the same clips from the first one but others were ones you hadn’t seen yet. A lot were times you and Ian shared the screen but others were simply moments where one of you mentioned or talked about the other one.

───────↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺───────

“I was with Ian the other day…”

“You know who would think this was so funny? (Y/n).”

“Wait let me text Ian and settle this.”

“Bro, (Y/n) said the most wild shit last night…”

───────↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺───────

You watched with Ian, laughing and remembering each part that came on.

A clip appeared that was older than many of the others—one of your earlier videos, judging by your hairstyle.

───────↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺───────

“Hey guys, welcome back to challenge pit!” Keith announced. “Today we’re going to be competing to see who can win at doing household chores—but with a twist. I’m talking swords and shit.”

“Swords and shit? Title of your sex tape.” Ian leaned over and mumbled to you.

You busted up laughing and everyone else turned to see what was so funny.

“Sorry Keith,” you wheezed. “Keep going with the intro. Please finish.”

“Also the title of your sex tape.”

───────↻ ◁ || ▷ ↺───────

Ian reached forward pausing the video on the laptop. “I remember that day.”

“It was at the end of a shoot week, right?” You asked.

Ian nodded, looking wistful. “Yeah. I remember it was the first time I made you laugh.”

“Must have been the very end of a shoot week and I was delirious,” you teased, but your mind was on his words.

Ian clutched his chest in mock offense. You giggled, nudging his shoulder as you pressed play again.

As you watched more of the video and laughed with Ian, you couldn’t get his words out of your head.

I remember it was the first time I made you laugh

He kept track of that?

Eventually, the video ended and you moved on to the final one.

“That was so good,” Ian chuckled. “We are so Shourtney coded. Like I feel like if we announced that we were secretly married, no one would be shocked.”

“Again with the marriage? Is this whole video a secret proposal or something?”

“Only if you’d say yes,” Ian countered.

You knew he was joking, but something about his eyes—about the way he was looking at you—made your heart beat faster. It was probably just the effects of being in a video about you and Ian being in a ‘relationship’, but you found yourself imagining what it would be like if it was real.

You had a sudden image of leaning across the table and bringing your lips to his.

You shook it off. “The jury’s out on that one. Meanwhile, our final video is titled ‘ian and (y/n) putting kelce and taylor to shame and giving us more feels than that one scene from marley and me’ and this one was posted by pandalover717.”

The crew laughed at the long title and you kept talking.

“This is a shorter one—”

“Shayne,” Ian coughed. A loud ‘hey!’ came from off-camera. You ignored them.

“—so we’ll see what it entails. Let’s go.”

You started the video and a Taylor Swift song started playing, dramatizing shots of you and Ian talking or hugging or falling on each other as you laughed.

I like shiny things, but I'd marry you with paper rings

Darling, you’re the one I want

Was this how everyone saw you and Ian? You had always been close but—had you been missing something.

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

Darling you’re the one I want

How did you see you and Ian? How did he? You tried to think of your relationship from the perspective of these edits and fan videos.

I want to drive away with you

I want your complications too.

You tried to stop your heart from racing. You were starting to see Ian in a whole new light.

I want to drive away with you.

I want your complications too.

Seeing all of these moments that you’d had with Ian—you were beginning to form a clearer picture that you hadn’t been able to see before.

I want your dreary Mondays

Wrap your arms around me, baby boy

Maybe one you hadn’t let yourself see before.

Because you and Ian were friends. Best friends.

But what if you could be more than that.

You were lost in your thoughts as the video ended and Ian tapped a button on the laptop.

“That song slaps every time,” Ian announced, turning to you. “What’d you think of that one?”

You shook yourself out of it, answering Ian. “I love a good edit. These were all so good and it’s so much fun to see how you guys interpret interactions and find little hidden meanings in things.”

“Or not-so-hidden meanings,” Ian said. He sounded so sincere that it threw you off.

“What?”

“Nothing. What—what was your favorite moment from all of those clips? Personally mine is when you lost your lunch after that smoothie.”

You smacked his arm and he ducked away from you, holding up his arms in surrender.

“Not funny Ian, my stomach wasn’t right for a week. And I don’t know if I have a favorite, there were a lot of good ones. By some crazy coincidence basically all of the videos I’ve been in have been with this guy.”

Ian was silent a moment.

“And—and what if it wasn’t?” He finally said. “A coincidence, I mean.”

“What?”

“It was at the beginning but then I, um, might’ve asked to be put in every video you were going to be in,” Ian admitted, running a hand along the back of his neck nervously.

“Why?” Your voice came out breathless. “Why would you—”

“Well,” Ian started, crossing his arms over his chest. “For starters, how else would people have enough content to make edits about us?”

“Ian.”

“Fine. At first it was just to hang out with you more,” Ian said, “We were such good friends and—and then it was more than that. Y’know, once I, kind of, fell in love with you.”

You could’ve sworn your heart stopped. The room was silent. As far as you were concerned it was just you and Ian.

“Is this some bit for the video or—”

“It’s not a bit,” Ian confessed, smiling ruefully. “I wish it was, because that I’d be good at. I’m not good at this. At emotions and feelings and—”

But he never got to finish that sentence because you leaned over and kissed him. He kissed you back, his lips crashing into yours with an intensity you’d never seen from him.

When you broke apart, the entire room erupted into applause and shouts of ‘oh my god’ and ‘guys!’ and ‘pay up shayne, where’s my 30 bucks?’. That last one was Chanse.

But you hardly heard any of it. You could only smile at Ian as he smiled back at you.

“Wow,” you said. “That was not how I imagined this video ending.”

“Me neither,” Ian said. “But a guy can dream.”

You smiled, thinking about how Ian had felt about you all this time. How you felt about him now. It would be a miracle if you could stop smiling.

You looked away from Ian and towards the camera as Spencer spoke from behind it. “I think I speak for all the fans when I say we are going to have a field day with this video in our next edits. This is straight out of a Lynn Painter book”

“We?” You asked, intertwining your fingers with Ian’s at the same time as Ian said,

“You read Lynn Painter books?

“Yeah,” Spencer shrugged “They’re dope as hell.”

You giggled as he continued, a small smirk on his face. “And as for the edits…

Who do you think pandalover717 is?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed babes, lots more smosh fics coming soon!! also if you caught my b99 reference ilysm 💋

#ian hecox #ian hecox x reader #smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #x reader

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calphalon · 2 days ago

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wine and dine | dick grayson headcanons

⤵ tw: not an uppercase in sight, unhealthy relationship, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, yandere, manipulation/semi-gaslighting, implied purposeful harm ⤵ note: i just think he is overbearing and overstimulating on purpose, but he makes up for it by buying you literally anything ever ⤵ inspo song: under my skin by jukebox the ghost

- dick grayson is not shy when it comes to buying your happiness, a trait he picked up from bruce growing up. even if you’re not comfortable with this, gift giving is deep in his blood.

- it doesn’t matter where you came from before him because everything feels like humble beginnings in comparison to the endless fortune dick has a share in. there is enough money on that black card of his to solve problems you hadn’t even thought of yet, and it was intimidating the power he had just with a call of his name.

- he takes you into places where the price is never discussed, at least not to you. and if you hesitate due to how much you think it costs, he’ll find a way to talk you into getting it anyways. clothes with brands you only thought you’d see photos of, flights to the next place to vacation he randomly planned without telling you, restaurant reservations at such popular locations not even the queen could get a table as soon as he did for you.

- “but wouldn’t this look nice for a date? that way we’ll look good together. people will know we belong together.”

- that’s his excuse often, that the two of you would look better together if you matched. If everyone saw the two of you and immediately knew the two of you were a set. that if you were somehow lost, they would just have to take one look at you to know you were his. some of this is because he wants you to be pampered the way he thinks you deserve…

- some of it is also because there is an image he has to keep as the first son of the wayne legacy. the torch his father passed down to him, playboy billionaire with a desire for a good time, has to be held high even if it comes at the cost of your happiness.

- some of it also because you’re like the perfect doll for him. so easy to dress up and play with, keeping him entertained even when you’re far too tired to do much of anything. he wants to pick you up and take you everywhere, even places you don’t belong, just as an excuse to show off his favorite pastime.

- he does care though, at least he says he does when you’re crying about how you have no privacy with all the cameras in your face all of the time. how people will go to extremes just to capture video and photos of you at your lowest, in those moments you thought you were actually alone.

- he tells you how well you look, how he’ll shield you from all the press tonight so the two of you can just enjoy each other's company without the worry of the outside world. dick will never admit he gave some of those photos and videos on purpose just so you’d come to him seeking a moment of peace. that you would vent to him. that you would see him as the only one who can bring you back to that feeling of normal, even if he is the cause of all the stress.

- you’re his charity case, something to make him feel like a hero when he isn’t playing nightwing. someone to see him as he knows he is, the perfect man. the protagonist's love interest that gives purpose to the story.

- he could never explain where he disappears off to, that he’s the hero in the night who guards the city you’re locked within the border of. excused off as necessary trips… maybe he likes the way you seem so desperate to know if he’s humoring other lovers during this time. maybe he wants you to get as jealous as he does when he sees anyone even try to sway you from him.

- he likes to rush your relationship, asking you to move in less than a month into the relationship and suggests marriage shortly after. he wants you to depend on him for everything. money, safety, privacy, care, everything.

- the home he bought, decorated just for you to house you when he wasn’t playing with you, had everything he could think of to remind you just how much of yours was his. Nothing of your old life made its way in, whether it be a single piece of clothing, a photo of your friends, or even your pet from before. everything in that house was his, including you.

- if he could be the air in your lungs and the blood in your veins he would be. he doesn’t realize how much he wants to live inside your skin, to puppet your brain and convince you he is all there is in the world.

- maybe that’s why it hurts so much when he gets back from a long mission, excused as a family trip that you couldn’t go to because he was concerned how the family would react to you being there, and you’re not there.

- that none of the gifts he has bought you while he was gone, the ones he had sent over special just for you so you’d still be able to be dressed up by him even with all the distance, were touched let alone opened.

- when he calls for you through the house? nothing. phonecalls? voicemail. He knew you had run off when he noticed your wardrobe just a bit less full and that pretty wedding band he got for you left on your nightstand.

- barbara knew he was desperate when dick came knocking on her door, begging for some sort of help finding his lost doll. pleading that you were out there, probably so scared and alone without him. you have nowhere to go without him, that you had nothing else but him.

- when the two of them found that you, where you had run off to while he was gone, dick called in a few more favors to make sure he would never lose you again. maybe if he gave you a reason to fear everything but him, you’d be truly trapped in the dollhouse he built for you.

thank you everyone for the support !! please do reblog & share if you enjoyed so i know what people are interested in. if you happen to have any requests, feel free to drop those in the ask box :D

#nightwing x reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson headcanons #nightwing headcanons #yandere dick grayson #yandere nightwing #x reader

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beemochi-art · 2 days ago

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Fandom hot take?

Oh I’ve got a couple

1) Not a big fan of cygate. It just feels kind of weird.

2) I’ve ranted about this before but The treatment of Nightshade is unacceptable. And I’m not talking about the standard homophones, no one cares about what they think, haters gonna hate and all that. No, what I’m more concerned about how they are treated amongst the fandom. For some basket case reason we’ll have these people crying from the rooftops about protecting trans kids but when an individual comes along who represents trans kids, oop! Time to make porn! I never understood that, what makes people see a non binary kid and suddenly it’s and excuse to sexualize. Like if it’s a pass. Why! It usually Just Nightshade. It’s honestly made me uncomfortable to post them. I’ve drawn a bunch of Nightshade stuff, a bunch of goofy comics that probably won’t see the light of day. I’ve already had some idiot on here try to share their perversion to a completely innocent comic. It makes me so angry, if anything would make me gtfo off this page it’s that.

3) There are a lot of problems with Oplita fans. I’m a fan of the ship, I LOVE the ship. But I think the way most people ship them it also takes away a lot from elita. It seems like her existence is just to compliment Optimus. Many Oplita fans can’t describe Elita without saying mommy, girl boss or pegging. Maybe not that last one but still. I enjoy seeing Elita just on her own sometimes, skybound, earthspark and tf one some examples (idw as well but I don’t like her too much, she kinda eh. Honestly I’m not a big fan of angry boss lady but to each their own.) I think when people approach this ship they should try to ask themselves about her hopes, fears and motivations. If all you can describe her as “mother is mothering” I don’t think that’s good. I like mom Elita! I really do, but the thing you’ve got to remember about moms is that they were a person before they had kids. Elita is such a cool and interesting character and shouldn’t be treated as just Optimus girl boss accessory.

4) I’m of a clear enough mind to recognize that JazzProwl fans are insane and that’s ok. Cause Prowl and Jazz don’t really have any meaningful interaction in most continuings, except in tfa. But if we were all sane we’d ship tfa prowl and jazz. Not everyone will like the ship on the basis of they look good together and that’s fine. That kinda of why Forte-verse is just kind of silly. It ain’t that deep.

5) Tf one Megatron was wrong. His feels were valid all the way until he dropped Optimus. I think the villain worshiped is a bit unsettling, don’t get me wrong, I LOVE Megatron. But I think only focusing on him and his crash out takes away from the message Optimus gives. Optimus was incompetent and a bad friend but that didn’t warrant death. I think a lot of times Orion was just so shocked by what his friend was saying that he struggled to say the right things D16 needed to hear. Orion was soo close to getting through to Dee, but then he, as Dee’s best friend compared him to Sentinel. That was a major trigger for Dee.

On another note, I think it’s interesting the reactions to Sentinel’s betrayal. I noticed Megatron uses a lot of language that is related to religion, “no more false prophets.” “Have faith in Sentinel Prime.” this was his everything. For Orion it may not have ever been that deep. For Dee his faith, body and sanity all rise of what he believes in, if he could serve the primes by being a slave it was all worth it. Unfortunately Sentinel is just like those mega church pastors.

6) I think the existence of femmas are cool and important. I think gender dynamics and social structure can have a part to play in Transformers even if it’s an uncomfortable subject, but they’re existence shouldn’t be a we are all the same gimmick, if you look to our real world the dynamic between the two sex’s and the social structures are different and sometimes not equal. I’m not saying that’s how it’s meant to be but I think it’s a topic that can be explored without shame. And as much as I think that, femmas in series also outline the nature of the writers as well even if it’s negative, the fan project Galvatrons Revenge being a good example.

7) I was looking at the story boards of the first story for Tf one. I think those were fun and all but I prefer the product that we got. A lot of people are saying that we were robbed but I don’t think that’s the case. That Megatron was evil, and his actions of shooting Orion didn’t feel as heart reaching as it does in the og. Tf One Megatron was emotional and vulnerable, I think he connected with the audience much better, his raw emotions is what makes a good megatron. And the storyboards just didn’t have that. It wasn’t nearly as emotionally impactful, I’m shock people said they would have preferred that over the Original. I don’t think I would have liked it nearly as much if so.

Not to say that they’re weren’t very sweet lines in the ere that I liked very much. I liked hearing about Dee’s motivations and dreams. And how he had a home with Orion. I liked how Dee looked to Elita and Bee when Orion was making him choose. There are parts that I thought were very sweet. And if the movie was that I still would have liked it just not as much.

Ok I’m done

I hope some of this made sense. Some things annoy me more than others lol.

#hot takes #transformers #bee talks #asks #transformers earthspark #transformers one

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multi-fandom-imagine · 3 days ago

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I feel like Ian would be the type of partner who goes off on random tangents when he's talking.

I would love to hear him talk about something he's passionate about and just smile as he talks even if I don't understand half of what he's saying.

A/n: -Sobbing- Thank you Anon

You sat on the porch swing with a cup of coffee cradled between your hands as Ian Malcolm paced in front of them, his dark curls catching the golden glow of the setting sun. His hands gestured wildly, his voice rising and falling like a symphony of enthusiasm as he dove into another impromptu lecture.

“Chaos theory, you see, isn’t just about unpredictability—it’s about understanding how small changes in initial conditions can lead to vastly different outcomes,” Ian said, his eyes alight with passion. “Take the butterfly effect, for example. A butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil can set off a tornado in Texas. It’s all connected, every little thing, every decision, every action. Isn’t that just… exhilarating?”

You didn’t fully follow what he was saying but you couldn't help but love the way Ian’s mind worked—how he could find fascination in the unpredictable, the strange, and the interconnected. A small smile forming on the edge of your lips as you took a sip of your coffee, eyes twinkling as you watched him animatedly flay his hands around.

“You’re smiling,” Ian paused mid-pace, his dark eyes narrowing in mock suspicion. “You’re not even listening, are you?” He was teasing you of course, a habit of his.

“I’m listening,” you insisted, setting the coffee aside pushing off the chair. “I just might not understand all of it.” You stated with a small shrug of your shoulders.

Ian folded his arms and tilted his head, a grin playing at his lips. “Ah, so you’re humoring me. I see how it is.” His voice light as he stepped forward letting his arms drape around your waist.

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, Ian. I love watching you get excited about these things. Even if I don’t get all the science, I get you. And that’s enough.”

He stared at them for a moment, his expression softening. The swagger he so often wore fell away, replaced by something quieter, more genuine. His head now dipped to crouch down to your level. “You know, sometimes I think you’re the anomaly in all this chaos,” he murmured. “A constant. My constant.”

Reaching your hand, you let your fingers brush a stray curl from his forehead. “I think you’re giving me too much credit, Ian.”

“Impossible,” he said, his grin returning, though softer this time. “Besides, if chaos theory has taught me anything, it’s that the most beautiful things are often the least predictable.”

You let out another soft laugh as you tugged him down to sit beside you on the swing. His hand found yours, you two sitting together, watching the sun dip below the horizon, chaos and constants blending into a quiet, perfect moment.

#blurbs #blurb #ian malcolm #ian malcolm x reader #ian malcolm x you #jurassic park #jurassic park x reader #jurassic world #jurassic world x reader

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swiftsalad · 8 hours ago

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This is a very sentimental piece that I recently drew of Armand, specifically from a couple chapters of the fanfic-in the deafening polar province called You. Please read it first if you don’t want to be spoiled bc I’m about to talk about spoilers.

Spoilers free TLDR: Armand’s trauma being this shapeless thing over his heart, that is fragmented due to his broken memories, is a well of pain that seems endless, and so all he can do is claw at his skin.

GOOOOOD I really love this fanfic. I feel that the author really understands Armand’s character and his relationship with Daniel and they expand these concepts in such a beautiful way. And the first couple chapters that summarize Armand’s POV of the 2 weeks in Dubai, are done so well where I can really feel how Armand is comfortable in his relationship with Louis but isn’t really happy and how in his mind he can’t really comprehend why he does what he does but really only knows how to act in the moment when his security is jeopardized. So of course he runs after Louis when the truth is revealed because Louis is his safety blanket, and without it Armand knows he’ll be alone again. That feeling is also what pushes him to tell Daniel about their past, stringing along enough information so Daniel keeps him around for a couple days once they’re back in New York. But then you have that chapter where Armand realizes that his relationship with Louis turned into comfortable complacency and that he never stopped loving Daniel and then a hint of subconscious, self sabotage because he really let Daniel reveal the truth without realizing it. AND THEN YOU GET THE FLASHBACKS. it’s my personal belief that we get the flashbacks as Armand himself is remembering/thinking about them since it’s his POV, like I think every flashback is done not only so its in sync with the plot beats but also because its Armand’s line of thinking.

Returning the memories to Daniel; heartbreaking, their last time having sex; heartbreaking, their first time having sex since; heartbreaking, “what we both want, we get”; heartbreaking, Daniel once again asking to be turned; heartbreaking, Armand trying to dissuade Daniel from vampirism by having him kill a guy and drink his blood via Armand straw; INSANE but heartbreaking, Daniel pinching and poking Armand until he agrees to turn Daniel; so funny and real but heartbreaking.

Then we get to the last 10 chapters and the whole time I felt as though there were a thorn in my heart and I was on the verge of tears the whole time. If these previous chapters were heartbreaking then these last chapters are DEVASTATING.

“I need you to keep it together”; DEVASTATING, “take it all and punish me for this”; DEVASTATING, Armand seeing Daniel’s gold eyes for the first time; DEVASTATING, Armand needing to be in pain for their first time as maker and fledgling; DEVASTATING,

And I quote:

“Five hundred years, Armand’s heart has beat the same lonely rhythm. Five hundred years, and every moment has been captive to the pounding, pulsing need. To the question that has forever gone unanswered. Do you love do you love me do you love me?”

“You can feel it now.” Daniel murmurs, irises nearly clear, pupils blown wide like two yawning holes Armand wants to fall into. “How much I love you.”

Daniel’s heart beats and beats and beats.

And yes, Armand can feel it. Daniel inside him, his heart and its steady I do I do I do, so certain that not even Armand’s own can find a way to doubt it.”

End quote.

So DEVASTATING that I’m crying, screaming, and throwing up. This chapter is one of the two that inspired me to draw something from the concepts and themes that arose with these characters. The other chapter that inspired the composition of the drawing is only a few chapters later in chapter 23, the moment is too long to quote fully but to put it simply, after Armand has a nightmare where he relives his trauma(btw as someone who has trauma dreams, this was written really well and realistic to how trauma works in dreams) Daniel wakes him up and he slowly realizes that in his sleep, he clawed at his chest, directly above his heart, subconsciously trying to rip it out. When I tell you, I had to look at the ceiling for many hours after chapter 23. And then I spent a week trying to draw it, I scrapped so many sketches because it was so important for me to get right. What’s crazy is that I felt as though the fanfic was not the same after chapter 23 either, like in the following chapters until the epilogue, there’s this weird melancholy in Armand’s narrative, and then in the chapter where they temporarily split, Armand directly calls it a “bomb” that hasn’t detonated yet. Like Daniel is simultaneously a reprieve from Armand’s self-loathing and now the source of it. Everything, everything, everything in this fic is exactly what I want from Devil’s Minion, past and current. The gentle violence, the violent intimacy, the bond before the blood bond, before the vampire bond, the constant draw to one another, the push and pull, the unspoken parallels; young Daniel being similar to Arun, old Daniel being similar to Amedeo, old Daniel with returned memories being something new but getting closer to being Armand’s equal, then vampire Daniel not only being Armand’s equal but being ONE with him, of course with the help of the vampire bond, where Daniel feels Armand’s feelings before Armand can even recognize them. And any time one of them puts their hand over the others heart it makes me just want to roll around on the floor or sink to the bottom of a pool, I really need that to be canon at some point.

THANK YOOOU @shineforthee for writing such a compelling fanfiction, I’m literally obsessed with everything you write it's not even funny!!!

#yap session #i cried so much #i think this is the best fanfic ive ever read #actually its one of the best things ive ever read #iwtv #devil's minion #interview with the vampire #armand iwtv #iwtv fanart #fanfic rec #iwtv fanfiction #armand and daniel

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evoscancelled · 1 hour ago

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OMG, finally someone who thinks that Caitlyn is not rough all the time. I mean, look at her when she was with Vi – SHE WAS SO GENTLE THERE, ITS CANON (I'm not saying she wouldn't get rough and aggresive at times) (By the way, I love the headcanons!)

caitlyn kiramman NSFW headcanon

content : afab/fem reader, nsfw, soft sex, fluff??

writers note : thank you so much!! making a part two fairly soon of the caitlyn hcs.

men dni!

based off of my last post— where the majority of the nsfw headcanons were rough/dom!cait.— check it out if you haven’t, yall!! :))

—

she would NOT be rough all the time. there are still nights she wants to make love to you and remind you how much she really does set you as one of her top priorities.

I really headcanon her to be somewhat starved to actual romance and love before she met you, and not just rough n kinky sex, ykwim?

yes, she’s a dominant person but I’m not saying there aren’t times where she wouldn’t “bottom” or let you take the lead. sometimes she just gets tired and doesn’t feel like doing all the crazy stuff, she just wants to make you cum.

which I mean you oblige because caitlyn kiramman making you cum?? who’s to deny that?? and also the instance you get to top her?? bet.

she’s just soft and slow at times, really taking her time, kissing you down your body, whispering the corniest shit to you like “we are gonna spend the rest of our life together, yeah?”— but it’s in her cute lil british accent so it doesn’t even matter, plus, you literally dig it.

I really cannot stress this enough— she is desperate to make you happy, she loves you so much she can feel that shit in her heart PHYSICALLY. nothing you do goes unnoticed— you are comfortable enough to let her access your body? she’s melting. you share your insecurities and secrets with her? she’s never telling anyone else ever.

fucks you with a sliiightly smaller strap than when she rams the shit out of you— but the way she talks you through it is so sweet and pure.

“fuck.. ur doing good, okay, love?”

“tell me if it gets too much, wont you, darling?”

“ur so sweet for me”

“you are so pretty, you know that?”

“I’m so proud of you.”

and when she’s about to cum—

“fuckfuck— iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou” as if there is some urgency to remind you

“hah— I’m close— I’m close.. cum with me?”

“mmh, I’m gonna cum, okay?”

“are you getting close?— mngghh..— want you to cum with me okay?”

“you— mmh— look so good when you are about to cum, darling.”

the aftercare is— im sorry to say— but it’s immaculate.

if you don’t feel like showering or bathing, she just brings you a warm, wet towel and wipes your privates as she leaves little kisses down your stomach

brings you a glass of water with a lemon in it n shit, gets all fancy and sometimes pops out the wine.

prepares a little snack like cheese n crackers or some kind of fruit

holds you and tells you how much she loves you, kissing your forehead and always making sure you fall asleep before her.

—

01/11/25

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herweirdass · 15 hours ago

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maybe a fic abt two people who love each other dearly but just aren’t good for one another.

divided shores | rafe cameron

the outer banks were nothing like the city you’d grown up in. the endless beaches, golden sunsets, and tight-knit community were a far cry from the bustling streets you were used to. moving here felt like stepping into a different world—one where everyone seemed to already know each other, and the divide between kooks and pogues ran deep.

you were a pogue now, not that you’d chosen a side. living in a modest house on the cut, working shifts at a local diner, and hanging out with jj, kie, and pope made it clear where you stood in the social hierarchy. but you didn’t care about the labels—at least, not until you met rafe cameron.

it started innocently enough. you ran into him at the marina while helping jj with a boat repair job. rafe had leaned against his truck, watching with mild curiosity before offering a sarcastic comment about pogues “fixing scraps.”

“got something to say, kook?” you shot back, not even looking up from your task.

his grin had been infuriating. “just wondering how someone like you ended up here. you don’t look like the rest of them.”

it wasn’t the best first impression, but for some reason, rafe kept showing up. at the diner where you worked, at the beach bonfires, even at the marina again. his cocky attitude slowly gave way to something softer, something that made your stomach flip when he looked at you.

against all odds, you started spending time together—first in secret, then out in the open. it wasn’t long before the whispers started.

“rafe, are you seriously hanging out with her?” his kook friends would sneer. “what’s next? you gonna start wearing cut-off jeans and drinking beer from cans?”

meanwhile, jj wasn’t much better. “are you out of your mind? that guy’s a cameron. he’s bad news.”

at first, you and rafe laughed it off. the sneers, the gossip, the disapproving looks from both sides—it didn’t matter when it was just the two of you, sitting on the beach and talking about dreams that felt too big for this island. but over time, the weight of everyone’s judgment started to sink in.

“maybe they’re right,” you muttered one night, after yet another argument with jj about rafe. “maybe this… whatever we’re doing… doesn’t make sense.”

rafe frowned, his brows furrowing. “you’re really gonna let them decide that for us?”

“it’s not just them, rafe,” you said, your voice cracking. “it’s everything. your family, my friends. we’re from two different worlds. how are we supposed to make this work when everyone is against us?”

he was silent for a moment, staring out at the ocean. finally, he said, “i don’t know. but i know i don’t want to lose you. not because of them.”

the vulnerability in his voice made your heart ache. but doubt was a heavy thing, and it had been building for weeks.

“maybe we need some space,” you whispered, your chest tight.

rafe looked at you, his jaw tightening. “if that’s what you want.”

“it’s not what i want,” you said quickly. “but it’s what we need. for now.”

he nodded, though the pain in his eyes was evident. “okay.”

for the next few weeks, you tried to keep your distance, throwing yourself into work and spending time with the pogues. but nothing felt right. no amount of laughter with jj or heart-to-hearts with kie could fill the void that rafe had left.

it wasn’t until a chance encounter at the beach, late one night, that things came to a head. rafe was sitting on the dunes, his figure silhouetted against the moonlight.

“i didn’t think you’d be here,” you said softly, approaching him.

“could say the same to you,” he replied, his voice quiet.

you sat beside him, the silence stretching between you. finally, he said, “i tried to stay away, but i can’t. i don’t care what anyone says, or how hard this is. you’re worth it.”

tears pricked your eyes as you looked at him. “rafe…”

“i’m serious,” he interrupted, turning to face you. “they can hate us all they want. let them. but i’m done letting them make me doubt what i feel for you.”

his words broke something inside you, the wall of doubt and fear you’d been building. without thinking, you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his.

it wasn’t a perfect resolution. the disapproval from both sides didn’t magically disappear, and the challenges didn’t vanish. but that night, sitting under the stars with rafe’s arms around you, you knew one thing for sure: love was worth fighting for.

my first rafe fic ahhhhh

#obx cast #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe x you #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader

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reijamira · 3 days ago

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THK EP 7: Uh-oh, trouble in paradise. (My reaction.)

I tried to stay away from spoilers, but I’m weak. I sneaked a few glances at my Xitter timeline and one at my tumblr dash. What I learned beforehand was:

It’s Bison’s birthday, and Fadel gifts him a cute cake despite him being angry (Why angry?)

Keen is spying on FadelStyle in the restroom (it’s a trend, right? JoongDunk have a restroom scene in literally every one of their shows. What's more: Dunk said when they met for the very first time ever, they also went together to the restroom to have a little chat. 🤣 Coming back after I watched EP7 to add: Now Style's comment about making friends in restrooms is all the more funnier.)

Fadel’s arm is in the sling.

Fadel uses chloroform on Style. (Why??? 😭)

They do paintball.

Style gets jealous.

There is a scene with a husband?

Style drives while Fadel points a gun at his head.

Style, with his arms tied behind his back, clad in only his boxers, sits on the side of an empty swimming pool. (Help! I’m so scared!)

That’s it! How does this all add up? Joong said on his IG today that it’s not a sad episode. Let’s see if he’s right.

Wow, 1:09 hours long! Make that at least two for me. (In the end it took me three. 🤣) I will have to pause and rewind a lot. Roll around on my bed, hitting my pillow, squeeing and screaming. Like always. 😂

My hands are cold as ice. I’m already so emotional and I’m not even two minutes in. Uhh!

Oh Jesus, Bison’s fake smiles and his overly cute expressions! 🤣😭

Those little kisses and pecks Kant gives Bison are so adorable. Oh my, he is so whipped.

Omg! That scene with Style on that garage trolley! HOT! Love how Fadel gets Style to consider with a challenging “are you scared?” It’s always the challenges between them.

OMFG, the dad!!! Muhahahaha! Lol he didn’t buy Style’s explanation! 😂😂

Style’s dad is so wonderful! I like him a lot. Yes, give Fadel a hint that Style loves with his whole heart!

The scene with Kant and Bison in bed: It’s so tragic. If you know where Kant is coming from, it’s all in his dialogue. He thinks about family and work. Yes. Ooooh, my poor guy.

“No matter what happens, I’ll keep all the good memories.” Please, no foreshadowing!

WOW! Bison just said “I love you, Kant.” And Kant said it right back! My heart is aching! Will Style confess his feelings for Fadel in this episode as well?

Man, I really feel for Kant here. His broken expression. What should he do in a situation like that?

I LOVE Fadel wearing Style’s shirt and him loving Style’s scent! 😍

Both Kant and Style have noticed and commented upon the fact that their boyfriends act weirdly. Interesting.

Soooooo adorable! Fadel smelling Style, loving how he smells. Omg! He is an addict. 🫠 He looks like a cute dog.

Please, no sad Fadel face! I can’t bear seeing that man so miserable.

The paintball game is so much fun. lol Style’s worried look when he sees Fadel firing his gun. 😂

Bisooon, come on “lovers in the trenches”, “like we are going to die together”. Enough with this nonsense. This is a rom com. No one of the couples dies! Kant’s “we’ll fight through it hand in hand” is killing me! 😭

Bison: “You gotta protect me, then. Don’t let anyone harm me.”

Please, why so much foreshadowing?? 💀

Fadel saying Kant “started all of this”. Uhhhhh lord, the heavy double meaning! Style did notice something.

I can’t with the heavy double meaning in this scene. Style doesn’t know that Fadel knows. 😭

Style: “Professional BB gun shooter” 😂😂🤣😂🤣😂 Saved at the last second.

Fadel: “Make sure no one shoots me in the back.”

And then their talk about trust. Whew! Love the subtext!

FUCK! I knew it! They did intend to shoot them for real! Shit! Kant!!

Okay, apparently, Bison did intend to shoot Kant for real?

Ah, no, so there IS still a plan? 😭

Whoah! FLASHBACK!

Not Bison burning their trophy! 💀😭😱

Uh oh!!! So, that’s how Fadel learns how Style got involved! Jesus! Bison just told him straight up. Intense! No, Fadel, don’t hit him!

Gods, their shouting at each other was hard to watch. I know that Style and Fadel will also have a scene where they will be shouting at each other. I’m not ready for this. Not. One. Bit.

No, Fadel, you weren’t happy before Style. You said so yourself. Stop lying to yourself! 😭🥺

My goodness, make them fall head over heels in love and then kill them. But they ARE already heads over heels in love! Just open your eyes and see!!

Man, you are all so wrong! They don’t think you are fools, you FOOLS! Seriously, if any of you would just open their eyes and interpret the evidence (couldn’t resist the Hannibal reference 😄).

HELP!!! I did not expect to witness Bison’s murder fantasies in such explicit detail! 💀😱

Oh, my heart is melting! Fadel, you adorable man! The cake is so sweet! With the little house! 🥺 They want to be safe and normal.

Style and Kant in the shower. I love how positive Style is. It’s so refreshing. He really brings a bit of light in the darkness of late.

Well, was that the husband from my spoiler? The disgusting guy with the death glare at Fadel and Bison? Maybe he is the shooter, not Keen?

It’s getting exciting now!

Oh no, not me tearing up about Kant’s thoughtful gift to Bison. 😍🥺

Not Fadel and Style watching this cute, romantic scene play out right before their very eyes. Fadel’s expression is getting to me. He had a partner once, who apparently vanished. Now he has a new partner, but this one is seemingly fake. 😨

Fadel saying Style is unique. My god, just lay it all on the table. All the cards. Enough with these games!

WHAT!!! Style?? A ring and ask Fadel to marry you!!! Jesus, this is foreshadowing I LOVE!

WAIT!! WHAT?!!? JESUS, WHAT?? WHAT JUST HAPPENED HERE?

For a second, I was worried, Style’s intended way to go was by poison! Look y'all, how worried Fadel got in a blink of an eye! Wasn’t he supposed to murder him? Doesn’t look to me like he could, though. 🤣

Did Style really just cough up a ring? The fuck? Muhahahaha, this is such a Style thing to do! I bet Fadel found it secretly endearing. Yeah, look, he calls himself a fool. Yes, a fool for love. Good thing, Style’s love for you is genuine! Open your eyes, Fadel! And please, do marry him!

Uhh, Fadel? What did you just intend to put into Style and Kant’s beer?

What’s Keen’s plan? Appreciating the antiques?

lol Style, you are so naughty. Wash your hands first, please, would you? 😂 I bet Keen is perking up his ears now.

I think Keen will set his eyes on Style now, right? I believe he had something to do with Fadel's ex, too.

Oh gosh, it’s happening! So, Keen wanted to shoot, but it’s the disgusting husband from outside the bar!

Hahaha, Style! lol way to show your jealousy! 😂😂😂

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Everything I thought was WRONG! Bison gets stabbed!!! Not shot! And Fadel gets shot protecting the woman! My goodness! What a mess!

Fucking hell! STYLE! Just like that, yes? Picking up a gun and training it at someone with a death threat on your lips. How freaking badass!

What a captivating scene!! Jesus, lord!

Huh, a broken arm? Thought he got shot?

My boys, Fadel and Style! Just realize that there is genuine love between the two of you!

No, no, no, don’t push Style away, Fadel! 😭😭😭

Kant breaks my heart. 🥺🥺🥺 No, man, I’m crying with Kant here. 😭

Oh shit, Kant! Bison! Behave!!!

Hehehe, Captain Christ cursing is hot!

No, but Bison’s crazy psycho look at Kant in the trunk was scary. And sexy.

Nooo, the chloroform scene! Why, Fadel??! 😭😭😭😭

Nooo, I can’t watch this scene!!! Help! I was hoping it wasn’t Fadel who would do this to Style!

Great cinematographic shot, btw. Style has a beautiful back.

Good god, what is Fadel’s plan? (How did he even do all of that with a broken arm???)

Jesus, I can’t! Style said he loved Fadel! Man, this scene does my heart no good. It wants to beat out of my chest.

No, what? Don’t hurt him! Whaaat??? You can’t end this scene on a gunshot and then nothing! What the hell??

Shit! Goosebumps! Oh my lord, that’s why Kant is afraid of the ocean! Jesus Christ!

Oh, he really did jumb. For Bison! 😭😭😭😭

NO! Not another cut!

lol Style! Flirting with your enraged hitman lover. You sure love the rough, romantic side! 😂😂

What’s with the appreciative glances at Fadel? 🤣 Style, you are beyond help.

Wellll, that was an emotional rollercoaster! I love this freaking show so much! Next week, we finally get the bathtub scene, y’all!

What’s with the car bed scene?

I think they will angrily shout at each other and the car bed scene comes right after that (Dunk said in a clip I watched on YT that both their voices were still raw from shouting at each other for a scene of THK.)

Kant has to do penance with Bison. Poor man, but he did fall in love with the crazy one. 😂

It looks like Fadel and Style get attacked? Is this the scene where Style gets his injury?

Gosh, I can’t believe the seven days of waiting in doom and misery have begun anew. 😭

Joong was right. This episode had its heartbreaking moments, but overall, it wasn't sad, rather dramatic and scary and thrilling.

#the heart killers #the heart killers episode 7 #the heart killers meta #the heart killers my reaction #fadelstyle #kantbison #fadel thk #kant thk #style thk #bison thk #spoilers #the heart killers episode 8

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tmnbxx · 2 days ago

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ANGST MUHAHAHAHAHAHA. Got this idea from a TikTok. I’d do a part two, where the reader and him would get together.. maybe, if I’m feeling nice enough.

______________________________________________________

The night air was cool, the city buzzing faintly below. You and Jason sat on the edge of the rooftop, your legs swinging idly over the side. It had become a habit, these late-night talks, the kind of routine neither of you ever formally acknowledged but would have missed if it suddenly stopped.

The conversation had started small—favorite foods, movies, little things to fill the silence. At some point, it shifted to colors.

“I don’t think I have a favorite anymore,” you said, leaning back on your hands. “I used to think it was yellow, but now? I don’t know.”

Jason stayed quiet for a moment, staring out at the city lights. Then, without thinking, he said, “Yes, you do. It’s green.”

You turned to him, surprised. “Green? Why green?”

His jaw tightened briefly, and he shrugged, trying to play it cool. “You just… you look at stuff that’s green all the time. Plants, sweaters, that dumb mug you keep stealing from me—you always light up when you see it. It’s green. I’m just saying.”

There was a beat of silence before your face broke into a wide grin. “Oh my god, it is green! I totally forgot! I love green! How did I forget that?”

Jason chuckled softly, keeping his eyes on the skyline to avoid yours. “Guess I know you better than you know yourself,” he muttered.

You didn’t catch the way his voice softened, the way his words came out more like a quiet confession than a joke.

What you didn’t know—what Jason would never let you know—was that green wasn’t his favorite color. Hell, he hated green. It reminded him too much of the past: a green domino mask, a green Robin suit, the green of Lazarus waters that still haunted him when he closed his eyes. But if you loved green, then Jason loved green. If it made you smile like that, he’d wear it every day.

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, watching as you talked animatedly about how you couldn’t believe you’d forgotten something so simple. You were beautiful like this, so unguarded, so full of life. Jason had to look away before his heart gave him away entirely.

He hated that you thought of him as just a friend. God, it was torture sometimes, sitting this close to you, hearing you laugh, seeing you smile, and knowing he’d never be the reason for it—not in the way he wanted. But if this was all he could have, he’d take it. He’d take every late-night rooftop chat, every stupid argument about whether pineapple belonged on pizza, every quiet moment of just existing in your orbit.

Because the truth was, Jason didn’t care what his favorite color was. He didn’t care about his own favorite anything anymore. His whole world shifted the day he realized he was in love with you. Every little thing in his life—his choices, his thoughts, his goddamn heart—it all moved around you now.

And yet, you didn’t even notice.

“Hey,” your voice broke through his thoughts. You nudged him lightly with your shoulder, your grin softer now. “Thanks for reminding me. You’re pretty good at that, y’know. Knowing me better than I know myself.”

Jason forced a smile, biting back the words he wanted to say. You don’t even know the half of it.

“Anytime,” he said instead, his voice steady but his chest aching.

For a moment, you just looked at him, your expression unreadable. He wondered if maybe, somehow, you could tell. But then you smiled again, turning your gaze back to the city below.

Jason stayed quiet after that, letting you talk while he sat beside you, soaking in every word, every laugh. And if his chest tightened with every unspoken thought, if his heart broke a little more with every stolen glance, well—he could live with that.

Because at the end of the day, it wasn’t about whether you ever looked at him the way he looked at you. It was about this—being here, next to you, in whatever way you’d let him.

Even if it wasn’t enough, it would always be everything to him.

#dc #jason todd #jason x reader #jason x you #red hood #jason todd angst

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tsupengu · 1 year ago

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old art dump (afufubu themed)

#im very soft for them #i don’t talk enough about how much i love these two together #domestic boyfriends #inazuma eleven #inazuma eleven fanart #boys in love #inazuma eleven go #afuro terumi #aphrodi inazuma eleven #fubuki shirou #afufubu

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tonycries · 5 months ago

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THIS P*SSY DEPRESSED!

Synopsis. Don’t worry, he knows exactly the solution when you’re upset - fúck it out of you, of course!

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, FÉRAL GOJO, cheering you up, oraI (fem receiving), breéding, MAJOR overstím, PRAISE, THEY’RE SO DOWN BAD, lowkey sweet, slight exhíbitionism (Toji’s), mean Geto, síxty-nine, chokíng, making Choso cry mhm, spítting, pússy-slappíng, cúmplay, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. You’re loved n’ I hope y’all have a good leak day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Noise complaint(s)

Any time Toji decided to visit you in your cute lil’ apartment, so did a few complaints from your neighbors.

It wasn’t because of his intimidating presence, or those deadly glares of his - targeted at everyone but you, or even because of the way his large frame unapologetically blocked every doorway in your building.

No, they were noise complaints.

“So that’s what’s got my girl so mm- upset?” Toji has the audacity to chuckle - chuckle - so raggedly at that syrupy pout of yours he’s kissing away. “Usually you and this sweet pussy-” He cups a palm at your glistening cunt, smearing your sweet, sweet juices in a glossy sheen down his wrist. “-are so happy to see me, n’ now you want to keep her quiet? All because some blue-balled loser just moved in next door and got jealous overhearing your pretty moans?”

At your nervous nod, he clicks his tongue gruffly, “Makin’ you all upset like this, tch-” Leaning down to whisper, until his sharp canines graze dangerously against your earlobe, “He’s about to find out that he hasn’t heard even half of it.”

“But Toji!” you’re squealing, fingers scrambling to clamp your already-deliriously sagging mouth shut. “I told you- we have to mmpf- be quiet. He seemed so grumpy, and-”

You’re being cut off with Toji nudging the divot of his fat head against your g-spot, until all those complaints are lodged in your quivering chest by a moan. Teasing, “Talking ‘bout another man when m’trynna make you feel better, doll? Bold today, aren’t ya?”

“N-no I was jus-” Barely-audible babbles drag out of you at the heavenly stretch of your pussy lips. Toji’s muscled chest heaves up and down at the way your pussy lips addictively swallow up his leaky cock, slobbering down, down, down his length till it glistened in the dim lighting. Your legs kicking up in the air when he insistently feeds your cunt inch by greedy inch.

Again. And again and again and so needy. Depraved.

But it still wasn’t enough for him.

“Aww, come on, woman.” He’s rolling his eyes, that tiny scar curling up in a devilish grin when he pries away the hand on your mouth. “Why’re you lyin’ to yourself like this? I know you wanna heh- scream my name as much as this cute cunt of yours is right now. Do it.”

As if to confirm his point, Toji’s pushing apart your puffy folds to let your gaping pussy squelch! even louder at each of his bullying thrusts. Tight ring of muscle taking each and every smack of his sharp hip bones so well, the riotous creaking of your bed following shortly, headboard just slamming into your poor wall despite being bolted onto it.

It was already so loud.

“I don’t hngh-” you let out a feverish gasp when each roll of his hypnotic cadence gets too much. “I don’t wanna give off a b-bad impression…I just want the neighbors to like me.”

Heart clenching in his chest at how cute you are, how sorry your voice sounds, he finds his irritation flaring once again at whoever this bastard was that had you doubting yourself this way.

“Doll– they’d be fuckin’ stupid not to. And I’d beat their asses, too.” Two soft pads of his fingers come to smush your cheeks together, forcing you to stare up into his darkened emerald eyes. “But my poor baby’s still ngh- upset, no?” When you’re hesitant with your answer, they slide down to your neck - just barely putting a bit of leering pressure, “Answer me while m’still being nice, doll.”

It’s all you can do to choke out a shrill, “Yes.” He can feel your walls clenching around every ridge and prominent vein down his shaft so tight with every sultry, mewled-out word. “H-he was really sweet! But it made me- a bit- jus’ a bit.”

“See?” And Toji sounds so smug, predatory tone bleeding into the way his harsh rams pick up to an obscene speed. A thumb of his dips down to swivel over your neglected clit, wrenching out those candied moans he loves so much. “Nothin’ wrong with makin’ my girl feel better after a shitty experience. N’ if anyone has anything to s-say, they can come complain to hngh- me.”

“B-but-”

“Ah ah-” Toji kisses sloppily at your lips trying to press together and quieten, sucking on your lower lip. “What did I say just now? Loud, pretty girl.”

And it’s like a dam breaks open right then and there, you’re arching your body off the bed like such a slut to press your bare tits against Toji’s pecs. Sensitive. Faster. “Toji- oh fuck, m’so-”

“Heh, louder. I don’t hear you losing your beautiful voice yet.”

Keening, “M’so close. Fuck- g-gonna cum all over your cock.”

He’s cupping his ear so mockingly, hips still stuttering and thrusting forwards without a moments’ faltering. “Still can’t hear you, m-ah not gonna let you cum if you’re not loud enough, y’know.”

You were sure your sinful noises were traveling through the heavy, plastered wall now. Picking up in pitch and speed with every double-attack on your sweet spots everywhere. Spearing the lewd curve of his dick into you, he’s fucking you into the mattress so mean - meaner that usual. Rugged muscles of his toned waist flexing when he jostles and thrusts unforgivingly. Your voice is hoarse at this point, “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck Toji m’cumming. I’m-”

Every other loud moan is drowned out by the ringing in your ears, Toji’s own soft rasps filtering through the white-hot pleasure running down your spine.

He’s fucking you through wave after wave of high, gifting your bruised g-spot with a thorough, sly pistons of his still-swollen cock. Something that didn’t bode well for you, you already knew.

“Tha’s it. Yeahh, that’s it-” A hand cups the back of your head gently, even though his slamming staccato was anything but. “Loud. Jus’ like that- shit, gonna make him jealous. Have him regret makin’ my girl upset, fuck-” An irritated banging sounds from the other side of the wall right above your headboard - your neighbor. “Fuck, just watch I’ll give him a real show.” Still throwing jagged hips your way, ram after ram. “What’s the fucker’s name again?”

��He- he said his name was Shiu.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Sweet, sweet treat

“I can fix it.” your husband eyed that droopy bowl of frosting and back to your candied, icing-glossed pout. He can’t help but plant a sweet, sweltering kiss on them, just groaning out, “We can do it together.” Barely managing to break away and breathe out, “S’gonna- turn out- perfect, my love.”

Which is how you find yourself splayed out so shamefully on the cool granite countertops of your kitchen, your soft cotton dress only pulled lazily to the side. Nanami’s knees seated firmly on the hardwood floors, face tucked in between the heavenly sweet folds of your already soaked cunt.

“Oh- oh fuck, Ken–” he makes you let out a honeyed drawl with every drag of his hot tongue up and down your soppingly wet slit. “Y-you’re gonna get the- ngh- counter dirty!”

So what? He thinks, and it only takes a flicker of surprise in your half-lidded eyes for him to realize he accidentally said that out loud. Not used to those uncharacteristically brash sentences, but Nanami was so drunk off your addictive juices right now.

Tipping his head back, back, back to let them make their slow, sultry journey down his throat. He’s slurring out proudly, “I’ll clean the mess after I cheer up my upset lil’ wife, okay?”

With this, he’s spitting on your quivering cunt. Adding to the glistening gloss that traveled down your folds - and Nanami couldn’t help himself but kiss at the mess he’s made. Over and over and-

“F-fuuuck, jus’ like that-” You’re keening when he’s alternating between hollowing his cheeks out with methodical, never-ending sucks on your sensitive clit and just peeking inside your needy hole with his tongue. “You’re too good with your hngh! -tongue, Ken–”

It’s impossible to run away - and he knew that, too. Every little inch you backed on the counter had him just dragging you back twice as much. Hot tongue clashing and angry to part your swollen pussy lips.

You can only thread your fingers through his neat blond hair even tighter when he surges back forward. Pussydrunk. Groaning at the lewd smack of his tongue dipping in and out of your puffy folds, Thumb circling around your throbbing clit, “And you’re too sweet, darling. Even sweeter than-” He pools your slick on two thick fingers of his, coating a glossy sheen of obscenity all the way from his rounded tips to the gold wedding ring glinting in the dim light. Before popping them in his mouth to take such long, cleansing drags without even a shred of abashed hesitation, “-that icing of yours.”

“I know–” you’re babbling in disappointment, the full force of your failed attempts at baking something special earlier this evening hitting you once again at full force. “Ugh, what a waste. I can’t even-”

A syrupy beat passes. One. Two.

And at that very moment, you’re feeling the maddening stretching of your gummy walls being forced to their very limits. Whirling your dazed gaze down to spot that Nanami was now standing, belt unbuckled, tugged down just enough that you were reeling from the pressure of his fat head just barely kissing past your fluttering hole.

“That’s my wife you’re talkin’ about.” he growls, low and satiny. Hands steadying on the two sides of your trembling thighs, his grunts catch in his throat when he thoroughly sinks his swollen length in. Never-ending, dizzying. A quick frosting-coated glide of Nanami’s fingers on your lips, and he’s pressing another lingering kiss on your slack mouth. Tasting you and the sweet icing and you, “And I don’t let anyone talk about her that way, my love.”

Now, usually, Nanami was a man of patience - liking to prepare and play around with your pretty pussy as if you were his favorite toy. Molding your plush walls like clay to take his massive cock.

But now, oh now Nanami Kento was anything but patient. Shit, he didn’t even know if your snug walls could take him right now.

Hands curling up into painful fists far away from the curve of your hips, as if he was trying to stop himself from just grabbing your quivering body and just slamming himself inside you until he reached your lungs, your heart, that stupid brain of yours that loved to overthink.

“Don’t you ever fuckin’ say anything bad about my wife. You’re perfect.” he breathes, greedy hazel eyes looking like they could devour you whole. “The frosting is perfect, the anniversary cake is perfect, your smile, your mind, you-” You’re being attacked by a flurry of kisses being gifted on every inch of your face that could be reached, “You you you- I love you.”

If you were in the right state of mind, you’d have responded back in a heartbeat. But right now, he’s not waiting a split-second longer before bullying the rest of his swollen, filthy cock in. Solid inches being shoved inside to force your walls to accommodate, stretching out so maddeningly across every divot and upwards curve down his shaft.

In and out in and out in and-

Your nails tear across his favorite blue button-up, down his muscled shoulders, down to that speckled yellow tie you’d gotten him a few years ago.

“You’re so- hngh-” you squeal, tugging Nanami closer by his tie. Making him bully past your narrow opening even deeper, slick walls squeezing so tight at how his weepy red tip presses right on top of your g-spot.

He chuckles, it’s so endearing how you’re already too cockdrunk to speak. One engulfing hand on your shoulder is all it takes for you to be sprawled back on the cool counter. Nanami’s pummeling cock bullying so deep inside your hot core it’s the only thing you can think about - nothing but him.

“How about, after-” Another dredge of sweet sweet frosting is dabbed along your lips, your heated skin. All for Nanami to lick sultrily, “-we’ll make the cake together, hm?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - “Just use me, baby.”

Those shallow, sultry words are falling from Choso’s rosy lips before he even realizes it - ringing like sheer melodies over the heady smacking of skin-on-skin where he’s bullying his fat cock into you.

After a few seconds of his sloppy, stuttering rams sending the gooey puddle of cum and slick spreading further and further on the sticky, silken sheets below you - the words finally register.

“Use you, baby?” you purr, batting your lashes in a way that has him gulping. Feeling his aching shaft twitch against your gummy walls, swollen balls squeezing so so angrily with how much seed he’d been gushing out tonight. “You want me to use you?”

Each thrust of his is lingering, rolling forwards to push you further and further up that pooling mess. He can’t think, he can’t even breathe. And it takes everything in Choso to groan out, “Yes yes- fuck, please.” You’re feeling him place a trail of wet kisses up to the nape of your neck, big tears clinging to his dark lashes, “If my- hngh- if my girl is upset, I want her to use me. Ruin me till she forgets all about it.”

It only takes a split-second for you to immediately flip around your positions, pinning a whiny, pliant Choso so harshly down onto the plush mattress.

“Hngh- oh, baby—” He bounces slightly at the sheer force. Dewy eyes rolling to the back of his head at the slobbering sheen of cum dripping down his long, long length. Bucking up his quivering hips till you’re speared all the way down on his cock, clit hitting the tufts of black at his thick hilt. “Fuuuck—.” He’s groaning raggedly, like a mantra, two big arms tugging your body stuck to his sculpted front. Nodding half-lucidly, “Yeah- yeah just like that. Whatever you want with me.”

Your pace was unforgiving - barely even giving him a moment to spew out those pussydrunk promises before rocking your hips up and down up and-

“Use you, huh?” you echo back his own words, the sheer need dripping in them having Choso bow his body upwards to pummel into you in a matching feverish pace. You’re humming, thinking back to those stupid pick-up lines the creepy new manager at work had snided just today. It was harmless, but oh how Choso would kill him if he knew. “Well then, don’t mind if I do.”

With a pained keen, he’s surging upwards onto his elbows, craning his head to mesh your honeyed lips with his. “Mmm- mpfh yeah, exactly like this.” Mixing out such throaty groans with your gasps, so desperate to please you with the way he plants two feet on the bed, thrusting up hazily to find your sweet spots, “S’this any better? How do you- ngh how do you feel, baby?”

You’re letting out a drunken giggle with how he’s the one asking - when really it should be you. Because your sweet boyfriend looked so ruined, eyes wrecked with tears. Milky skin a canvas for possessive red marks from your nails. Kiss-bitten lips spit-glossed and permanently parted in ecstasy, only slacking further every time your snug channel dragged down him.

“Much better, forgot about m’day already.” you’re hissing into his open mouth. “So fuckin’ gorgeous n’ mine, that bastard doesn’t know what the fuck he’s ah- talking about.”

Choso had no idea what you were talking about - though, he thinks his mind is too much of a hot, gooey mess to understand right now. Still so needy to please. Only being able to babble out a stupid, “Yours- fuck m’yours.”

And despite being the one setting the tempo, you can only let out such whiny groans at the sheer stretch Choso’s swollen cock is causing you. By the way he’s molding your gummy walls to each and every throbbing vein decorating down him.

“Sh-shit m’so close, baby.” he whines, a fresh wave of tears streaming down with each overstimulating smack! of his tight, overworked balls against the curve of your ass. Lazily, like he’s moving through molasses, Choso’s drawing messy patterns on your pulsing clit - not even circles, brain too fried to. “M’so close fuck- I need you to- I need-”

“Shhh shhh.” you coo, running a hand through his dark strands, damp with sweat. “Cum f’me, Cho~”

“Hngh!” He can’t stop his hips from bucking up ferally, crying out, “But- I can’t. Wan’ you to feel better. Need you to cum f’me. Use me-”

“Cho.”

“Please-”

“Choso.” you warn, narrowing your eyes, deciding to tease him a little with shallow, repetitive grinds of your hips up and down. Toes curling at the friction of his creamy seed sloshing around inside. “Cum.”

“Hngh- but-” he’s thrashing upwards, so addicted to the rough collision of your sensitive spots against his fat head. Pulling out such fucked-out moans from you already, “But m’spposed to be making you feel happy-”

Your fingers deftly find themselves on Choso’s temping throat, right above his racing pulse. You tighten your nails just enough to leave five matching crescents to match the rest of his marked-up body.

“Cho–” you puff in a sultry groan against his ear. “All I want is for you to fill me up right now.”

And then he’s spilling into you in thick, hot dredge after dredge of his potent seed - before you’ve even finished your sentence. It overfills your pre-painted cunt, that obscene white slopping out of your slit and onto where your hips rocked against your boyfriend’s even harder. A creamy white ring forming mouthwateringly. Relentlessly.

“See?” Choso couldn’t - vision blurry, ears stuffed with cotton. “I don’t care what any sleazy manager has to say, you’re perfect for me.” A gentle kiss is placed on his pouty, worried lips and shit you still didn’t show any signs of slowing down, overstimulating him to tears. You trace his furious marks, “N’ pick me up from work tomorrow in your skimpiest muscle tee~”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Overtime?

A lewd smack! is all that’s ringing in your ears right now, so loud over the distant hum of the photocopier. Accompanied shortly by Geto’s sing-song rasp of, “Heh, missin’ our reservation for this- Are you the one havin’ a bad day or am I?”

Before you can answer, you’re being gifted with another mean kiss of your boyfriend’s palm against your bulging pussy. Smack! Lingering on the nudge of where he could feel your sloppy hole mending around his girthy shaft, before dancing upwards to grip your hair in a sultry hold.

Pulling your entire weight up, up, up like he didn’t care about the way he was treating you like some ragdoll right now. Up to drag his lips towards your ear, “Doesn’t matter, because m’still fuckin’ you just the same.”

“S-Sugu–” your breaths crack with need when he’s pushing in a harsh thrust to slam back into the very bottom of your poor pussy. Eyes darting to the tiny window of your office photocopy room, “Sugu, we’re going to get caught.”

“And yet, she’s still hah- sucking me up as sluttily as ever.” he grins, tilting his head back to get those long, inky strands out of his face. He chuckles at the obscene sight of your cunt stretched to her limits, struggling, and drooling a sweet, sweet gloss down his length. “What’s with the ngh- attitude now? You said you wanted to feel better about working overtime so here we are.”

You bite down on your lower lip to hold back your moans when his fat tip draws a solid, straight line across your bruised cervix. Slamming forwards to have you scrambling forwards into some more important paperwork you really should be looking over right now.

“I did but-”

“Problem solved then.” Geto lets out a low whistle, sounding so utterly smug when he pulls your hips deeper into his. “Now let me make this shitty workload hah- so much better for you, gorgeous.”

Honestly, when you told your dear boyfriend that you’d have to cancel tonight’s date because of a sudden deadline for tomorrow, you felt guilty. Working after everyone else had left, spewing out upset little apologies until he told you he’d come over to the office to “help you take your mind off of things.”

You just didn’t expect it’d end up like this.

Smack!

Geto scoffs, “Aww documents have you zoning out on me again, pretty girl? Take a break, didn’t I tell ya you don’t have to worry about work and all those stupid things when you’re with me?”

Your knees weaken involuntarily when his gruff question is followed by such an unapologetic crash into your ravaged g-spot. Thankfully being held up by one of Geto’s strong arms to fuck yourself back all the way from his red, weepy tip to that see-through ring dredged up on his thick base. Somehow, you’re managing to gasp out, “N-no, I was just…”

“N-n-no, you were just zoning out, that’s what.” he’s mocking your answer in an overly-dramatic higher pitch, adding a few extra moans you were spilling with every harsh slam after slam of his hips. “What did I tell you now, relax. Let me fuck this shitty overtime and that shitty boss outta ya cute lil’ head, gorgeous. You and her-” His red-rimmed eyes, drunk on the feeling of your slicked walls enveloping him, lock on the sight of his curved dick disappearing so easily in and out of you. “-don’t have to worry about a thing right now.”

It was that same little promise - the one he’d whispered over and over into your sagging open mouth when he’d first ambushed you in the photocopy room. Bending you over the nearest flat surface before ramming into you all those thick, greedy inches of his long-needy cock.

And here he still was.

Splatters of your syrupy slick coats his toned pelvis with every jagged thrust, fucking you so deep - so disrespectfully - into the office desk. Your feet don’t even touch the ground now, mind spinning and syrupy. Geto’s bending his own to angle up exactly to hit the bullseye of your sweet spots. All those familiarly mapped-out areas to drive anything and everything out of your mind but him and the temptation for more more more-

Click!

Both of you are raising your heads in sync at the distinct clamor of an opening door somewhere in the office - shit, was someone doing patrols at this time?

Your jaw drops open in shock - and the feeling of your boyfriend sliding two slender fingers to your pulsing clit. Drawing rough, skimming circles on the bundle of nerves. He has you jolting and arching your back right into him, his arms - exactly where he loved to have you.

“Now we’re-” your words come in strangled little stutters, mindlessly bouncing your ass back onto his cock. Feeling the sinful tremors run down your spine with each slam, “-we’re really gonna get hah- caught. And I’m not even halfway through my project yet.”

And Geto - that smug bastard - sounds amused. He thinks he’ll have a ah- talk with your boss later about piling on workloads later. But for now, he sounds so fucking content when he’s musing, “Better cum fast before they give you more than overtime, pretty girl.” Before planting a deceivingly chaste peck on your lips, “Though, I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to havin’ a cute lil’ housewife to spoil all day either.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - QUIET TIME!

“Oh, Kuna–”

“Now that’s music to my ears.” Sukuna smirks darkly, lips searing in a trail right down your arched spine. Two inhumanly large hands massage down your back, pulling you against his sculpted front. “So much better to hear you say m’name than complain about some fuckin’ eugh-” His tone trembles in distaste, “-office drama.”

Scoffing, “No need to be so mean, Kuna. You really should’ve heard what Mrs. Smith down at-”

That little tangent earns you a sharp smack! to the fat of your bare ass, cupping the little tremors with a chuckle. He hums with a mocking lilt in his baritone voice, “You’re testing my patience~” Sukuna goes back to kneading at the stressed knots in your body. “Shut up and let me massage you, woman.”

And oh you should’ve learned your lesson - should’ve taken this rare, sweet little moment you’d gotten from your rough boyfriend. Should’ve done anything other than huff out, “Ugh, if only you’d heard what she said, ruined my whole-”

“Lift your hips.”

Your eyes widen at the sudden interruption, “Wh-what?”

“Lift your hips goddammit.”

It’s all you can do to mindlessly head his gruffed out words, legs stuttering and shaky when you get up on all fours. A gasp rips from your throat when Sukuna shuffles into the gap between your pliant body and the silken bedsheets. Not stopping until his hot breath was puffing against your sopping slit, your eyes mere inches away from his massive erection. Throbbing thickly and outlined with precum through his boxers.

Your mouth waters, “K-Kuna what-”

“So it really takes this to get me back on your mind, huh, brat?” he’s cutting you off with another branding smack on your ass - this time, the very rounded tips of his thick fingers just grazing against your dripping folds. “Couldn’t stop talkin’ about some fuckin’ Mrs. Smith even when I’m right here.”

“Are you jealous?” you muse, brows turning upwards in confusion. “Because I can assure you-”

Before you can run your mouth again, Sukuna’s cutting you off with one hand reaching down to wrap around your throat. The other pulls your shaky hips down to sit on his face.

“How’s this for jealous?” He grunts, an obscene slurping noise pouring into your hazy bedroom, eyes rolling to the back of his head at this messy kiss with your needy cunt. “Gonna make you forget about those shitty people. Just focus on me.”

You’re managing to wrangle your greedy gaze over your shoulder to spy his lewdly wet smirk, glistening down with a glossed cover of your slick. They’re so pretty, so kiss-bruised in your favorite shade of pink when they wrap around your throbbing cunt to give a harsh suck. “What? Got a problem, woman?”

You wine softly in protest, your lower lip jutting out in a pout that makes his clothed cock just coat down his fat tip with syrupy precum. Opening your mouth to retort and-

In all of two seconds, Sukuna’s hand snug around your throat drops down to tug on his boxers. Tall, angry erection hitting your parted lips with a soft thwack! It doesn’t stay there for long - no, because you feel that familiar pressure back on your throat again, and his achy cock being bullied down, down, down your throat.

“Actually, don’t answer that.” he’s letting out a strained groan, sanity dancing away with every clench of your tight throat around his glistening shaft. Holding you still with the hand on your throat, Sukuna’s powerful thigh muscles strain when he’s fucking up into your heavenly mouth slow, sultry. Spitting to coat him in all your sweet saliva, “Consider this quiet time, just shut up and take my cock.”

Your eyes are watering, Sukuna’s girth rubbing against every part of your plushy mouth. Swirling a pool of salty precum on your tongue. You can’t do anything but keen brokenly around that warm weight when long, thick fingers are spreading your puffy folds to wrangle his long tongue in deeper. Textures of his tastebuds grazing over and over against your spongy entrance - your clit.

“Hngh- mmpf-” you’re jutting your hips traitorously. Dragging your slobbering pussy up and down his thorough lips, giving longing, drunken licks up from your weepy base to your hot clit. “Kuna-”

He breaks away with a sinful smack! Your sensitive bud being tugged along with snapping strings of delicate precum and slick.

“Mhm, that’s what I like-” he’s slurring out words mixing together with need. Free hand coming down to toy your clit between two rolling fingers. And you could tell how much he liked this, fat shaft twitching animalistically inside your mouth. Nudging his leaking head at the back of your throat, it’s only with how long you’ve been with Sukuna that you manage not to gag. “-to have you shut up on my cock this way. That pretty mouth is better used for something other than rememberin’ some shitty people when you’re with me. They can fuck right off with the disrespect towards my woman.”

It’s all you can do to keep your jaw slacking further and further with every dragged-out smack of Sukuna’s heavy balls against your face. His hips using you like some glorified cocksleeve, ruthless in his pace. Molding your mouth to the shape of him while he does the very same with yours.

“F-fuuuck-” you manage to gasp out through the drooling edges of your lips. “It feels so- ngh–” Moans getting lost when Sukuna flicks your throbbing clit slowly, nudging with the very tip of his dark fingernails. “You’re being so-”

“So loud.” he finishes your own sentence for you. Grinning a grin that sends shivers up your spine, right to where he was stuffing your mouth shut with all long inches of his cock. Murmuring dangerously around your sloppy hole, “Interrupt quiet time again and you don’t get to cum, brat.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Unmistakably depraved.

“Fuuuuck, sweetheart.” Gojo’s whispering, over and over. As if he can’t - won’t - manage to articulate anything else right now. The honeyed words wrenching out of him with each sticky crash of his shaft down your sloppy slit in this firm mating press. “Do you know how hngh- long I’ve missed this sweet cunt?”

You don’t have to answer, and the echoing smack! of his too-sensitive balls against the curve of your ass is enough of one for him. Making his eyes gleam with such a feral glint, traveling straight to where he was pressing in bullying little grinds past your clamping walls.

It’s been so long - too long - about a whole week since your pussy-whipped boyfriend was able to have his fill of you.

A soft pad of his thumb rolls in a languid circle over your needy clit. Sending white-hot shockwaves that have you jolting the balls of your feet to greedily swallow up even more throbbing inches of him.

“Fuck, forgot how tight you s-squeeze me when I do that.” Gojo eyes dance to the back of his head with every bottom-out hit against your clingy mess of a cunt. Crashing so messily onto every velvety inch of your cunt. It only takes a few drags of your slobbering walls down his length for your dear boyfriend to run his mouth, “Forgot allll about this because of some- hngh- some mournng for a fucking fictional character-”

“My favorite character, Toru!” you exclaim, through furrowed brows. Both of you are shocked at the fact that you’re still managing to speak in coherent sentences - just means he hasn’t fucked you good enough yet, he muses with his syrupy, pussydrunk mind. “He was my- my favorite and he died and-”

You’re immediately being shut up by two sweet lips planting on your own, immediately moving to suck on your tongue so filthily. “Well, I’m your favorite boyfriend-” Your only, but semantics. Gojo whines - whines, “Shouldn’t I- hngh- be more important?”

As if to help you make your decision, he’s burrowing his cock in such needy thrusts. And Gojo can’t help but crane his neck to bite down on your frantically racing pulse, feeling himself salivate with how well you’re milking each and every single vexing ram of his hips. Just spearing the hotly saturated tip into your spongy g-spots, so fucking big that every stroke feels like a brush against your throat, an indent into the plush walls of your pussy, wrapping and molded around his girth.

Another bite to your neck at your silence - sharp canines just shy of drawing blood. And you swear Gojo’s eyes spark with an unnatural lightning blue when he devours you with a greedy stare, “Answer me, sweetheart.”

“You a-are.” Is all you can gasp out, but that’s not enough for the great Gojo Satoru. You’re instantly earning a rosy pout and a loaded smack! right on the bullseye of your glistening clit, faintly you think you hear the crackle of jujutsu. Thighs burning at the sheer stretch of being folded down, down, down until your knees knocked against your tits. “You’re more- hah! Fuck fuck fuck don’t– you’re more important!”

This seems to soothe your jealous boyfriend a bit, but it still doesn’t stop him from placing such brutal thrusts on your poor, ravaged pussy. Bruising. Sloppy.

You’re whining so brokenly, “Fuck, right there- feels too good- hngh!”

“Mhm, exactly what I thought.” Another explosive slap to your sensitive nub, humming with power, and Gojo throws his head back at how much it makes you gush so wetly around his thick hilt. “Now, was that- ngh- was that so hard?” Spitting out little profanities into your lips, as if the man he was jealous over wasn’t a few pixels, “The f-fucker- Had to wait a whole week before I got to comfort my sad girl? I’d kill him myself.”

You can’t even formulate a response to that - not even if you wanted to. Because with increasingly sloppy drags of his cock against your walls, Gojo only grows more and more heated.

“Fuck- makin’ my girl so upset. Gonna fuck all thoughts outta him for ya.” Babbling out little curses a mile a minute, swift pace bruising your spring cervix, your g-spot. A thin trickle of drool trails messily in-between your clashing kisses, only growing every time he’s ramming into your gripping cunt. “Gonna make you cum- make you mine.” Difficult, even with how you were clinging onto his every rough, angled thrust, and you don’t think Gojo even realizes the possessive little spanks he’s repeatedly leaving on your puffy clit. “Won’t you cum like a good girl f’me, sweetheart?”

He’s moaning at the sloppy way you listen to his ragged plea, letting out such pretty moans into the heady air when you fall back into your high. Toes curling, jolts of needy pleasure running down your spine, such a mess.

It makes Gojo falter in his tempo, it makes the sharp bones on his toned hips slam into you even harder, stuttering and rutting forwards like some animal in heat that can’t bear to do anything but be buried well inside you. It makes him cum.

“Oh- fuck, Toru s’in so deep.” You mewl, too cockdrunk to say anything else. To feel anything but the slow, sultry filling of your quivering cunt. Rope after rope of his hot cum painting the mess of your branded walls inside, and each time he’s fucking his cum even deeper you feel a lewd whimper of his name leave you. Vision tinging with need, with the feeling of being so overfilled you could barely breathe. “Oh- oh my god I feel it coming-”

Your words hitch in your throat when Gojo - cock still angry and twitching with faint wisps of trickling cum - plugs a slender finger into your bulging cunt. Stopping the overflow, the grins, “Hope you’re on the pill, my girl, because we’re not done until you forget.”

A/N. Ouu y’all should’ve seen the way I was CACKLING writing Toji’s ending.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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