#so. I’m actually not sure if I’m going to keep watching it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amkyor · 2 days ago

Note

Hey! I'm a big fan, annnd I have a bakugou x y/n idea... where bakugou hasn't been paying attention to y/n his girlfriend lately and it's been lonely.... so y/n is watching a romance anime with Mina and y/n says... "I wish I had that"....and then Mina ask if she loves bakugou and she says ...."hes okay"..... but the whole time bakugou and his friend kirishima were listening....and bakugou his mind is like "I'm a bad boyfriend? Does she love me? Im...okay?"

K. BAKUGO SHORT STORY

Synopsis: Bakugo has been distant toward his girlfriend (you), and she realizes how much it is actually affecting her while watching a romance movie that includes the love that she wishes she had.

Short note: Chapter 23 of my Bakugo x Reader Fanfiction is out now! If you like my stories on here, I'm sure you'll like my fanfiction, so go check it out! The link is at the end of this post!!

Distance Between Us:

It all started slowly, too slow for you to realize.

The day you started to notice it was when it was late in the evening, and you were sitting on the couch, waiting for Bakugo to come home.

He had promised to spend the evening with you after work, but as the hours ticked by, your excitement turned into frustration. Finally, you heard the front door open.

Bakugo walked in, still in his hero uniform, his face tired and serious. "Sorry, I got held up at work. Some idiot caused a mess in the city," he muttered, tossing his gloves onto the table.

You smiled, trying to be understanding. "It’s okay. I’m just glad you’re home now. Want me to heat up the dinner I made for us?"

"Not hungry," he replied shortly, already pulling out his phone. "I need to check the patrol schedule for tomorrow. There’s a lot going on."

You sighed, your shoulders dropping. "Katsuki, can’t it wait? You’ve been working all day. We barely get time together."

But he didn’t seem to hear you, his eyes glued to the screen. "Huh? Yeah, sure, whatever you say."

The evening dragged on, and though he was physically present, his mind remained consumed by hero work.

You ended up eating dinner alone while he sat at the kitchen table, typing away on his laptop.

---

Another time was when he had made plans out of nowhere to hang out with his friends and ditch out on the two of you had planned.

It was a rare weekend when Bakugo didn’t have patrol or missions lined up.

You had planned a quiet day together—something simple, just the two of you.

But as you were setting up breakfast, his phone buzzed on the counter.

Bakugo glanced at the screen and smirked. "It’s Kirishima. He wants to hit the gym and grab lunch afterward. I’ll be back later."

Your stomach sank. "I thought today was for us? We haven’t had a day off together in weeks, Katsuki."

He blinked as if realizing for the first time that you might have feelings about this. "We can hang out later. It’s not like I’m gone all day. Plus, I haven’t seen the guys in a while."

You bit your lip, trying to keep your disappointment in check. "But we haven’t seen each other in a while either."

He paused for a second, then ruffled your hair in a halfhearted gesture. "Come on, it’s not a big deal. I’ll see you tonight." Before you could argue further, he was already grabbing his gym bag and heading out the door.

---

Another day came, and he did the same.

Bakugo’s dedication to his work often left him exhausted, and his sleep schedule was all over the place.

One night, you stayed up late, waiting for him to come to bed.

You had something important to talk about, but he was still in the living room, sprawled out on the couch, catching up on sleep.

"Katsuki," you called softly, standing in the doorway.

He grunted, barely lifting his head. "What is it?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something. It’s been on my mind for a while."

He groaned, sitting up slightly. "Can it wait? I just got back from a double shift, and I’m dead tired."

"But it’s important," you insisted, stepping closer.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Y/n, I can’t deal with anything serious right now. Let’s talk tomorrow, okay?"

The next day came and went, and so did the conversation. You couldn’t help but wonder if you’d ever get the timing right.

---

Then, of course, came another.

One evening, Bakugo was in the backyard, practicing his explosions while you watched from the patio.

You had been waiting for him to finish so you could spend some quality time together, but he was completely absorbed in his training.

"Hey, Katsuki," you called out, waving at him. "How much longer are you going to be out here?"

"Not now, babe," he shouted back, his voice carrying over the sound of crackling explosions. "I’m almost done!"

Almost turned into an hour, and by the time he came inside, you were curled up on the couch, half-asleep.

He walked past you, grabbing a water bottle from the kitchen.

"Sorry, I lost track of time," he said, but there was no apology in his tone.

You gave him a small smile, too tired to argue. "It’s okay," you mumbled, though deep down, you wondered if he even realized how much you had been waiting for him.

---

In each of these scenarios, Bakugo’s priorities—whether work, friends, or personal routines—seemed to overshadow his time with you. While his intentions might not be malicious, his actions often left you feeling overlooked and craving the attention he gave to everything else in his life.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The evening was calm, the golden light of the setting sun filtering through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow across the counters.

You stood at the stove, carefully stirring the simmering pot of stew. The gentle aroma of sautéed vegetables, rich broth, and spices filled the air, blending seamlessly with the soft hum of the overhead fan.

Tonight, you had decided to prepare something special—something hearty and comforting, like the conversation you hoped to have with Bakugo.

It had been a while since the two of you had truly spent time together.

His hero work had consumed most of his days, leaving you with fleeting moments of his presence.

You understood, of course, the weight of his responsibilities, but that didn’t make the distance any easier.

So, as a gesture of love and an attempt to reconnect, you had spent the better part of the evening preparing this meal.

The kitchen was cozy, lit by the soft glow of under-cabinet lights.

Plates were set neatly on the table, silverware arranged perfectly beside them.

A bottle of chilled sparkling water stood in the center, and the faint crackle of the stovetop added a soothing rhythm to the room.

You glanced at the clock on the wall, noting the time. He should be home any minute now.

You adjusted the flame under the pot, letting the stew bubble gently, and moved to check on the freshly baked bread cooling on the counter.

The sound of the front door opening broke the quiet, followed by the rustling of heavy boots on the doormat.

Your heart gave a small flutter at the familiar noise.

He was home.

You didn’t look up from your task, your focus fixed on the pot as you gave it one last stir.

Toward the front door, the faint creak of the door closing reached your ears, followed by the soft thud of a duffle bag hitting the floor.

Bakugo’s presence filled the space immediately, even without a word.

The faint scent of smoke and ash mingled with the aroma of dinner, a signature of his return after a long day on patrol.

You heard the stretch of leather as he raised his arms high above his head, likely working out the stiffness from hours of action.

His footsteps echoed softly against the hardwood floor as he made his way down the hall.

You could picture him rubbing the back of his neck, his hair likely a mess from the day’s exertion.

The sound of his approach grew louder, each step deliberate yet unhurried, as if he were easing back into the calm of home.

You stayed at the stove, stirring slowly, waiting for him to join you in the kitchen, the moment of connection hanging in the air like the steam rising from the pot.

The clatter of the wooden spoon against the pot ceased as you set it down gently on the counter.

Wiping your hands on the apron tied snugly around your waist, you turned toward the kitchen's pillared entrance.

The soft shuffle of Bakugo’s steps nearing the kitchen tugged at your curiosity, and you couldn’t help but abandon your task momentarily.

You stepped around the corner, leaning casually against the frame of the kitchen entrance.

Resting your hand lightly on the wall, you peeked out toward him.

The sight of Bakugo, mid-stretch with his arms behind his head, immediately brought a fond smile to your lips.

His usual scowl was softened by a tiredness that clung to him, his messy ash-blond hair catching the dim light of the hallway.

He hadn’t noticed you yet, too busy absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck, likely sore from a long day.

His broad shoulders rolled slightly as he worked out the tension, the faint sound of his knuckles popping filling the quiet space.

The corners of your lips curled further upward as you admired him in his element—worn out yet still exuding the confidence and strength you loved about him.

Before you could say anything, his crimson gaze lifted, finally catching sight of you standing there.

His expression didn’t shift much—just a subtle raise of his brows as if to acknowledge your presence.

You straightened slightly, your smile warm and inviting as you prepared to greet him.

But before you could utter a word, he spoke first, his gravelly voice breaking the silence.

“I’m going upstairs to shower. Gotta get this grime off my body.” His tone was matter-of-fact, and he started walking toward you without breaking stride, cracking his knuckles as he moved.

Your smile didn’t falter as he approached, though the hurriedness of his words made you hesitate. “Oh, well, that’s great,” you began, your voice light and teasing. “But don’t take too long becau—”

“Oh yeah, by the way, before I forget,” he interrupted, his voice cutting through yours without a hint of malice, just his usual bluntness. “The gang and I are gonna hang out later, so I won’t be home for long.”

The abruptness of his words hit you like a splash of cold water. Your mouth hung slightly open mid-sentence, the rest of your words caught in your throat.

Bakugo’s gaze didn’t linger long, already focused ahead as though his announcement was nothing out of the ordinary.

Bakugo’s heavy boots thudded softly against the wooden floor as he approached you, his expression unreadable but relaxed.

He stopped just in front of you, his tall frame towering slightly over yours.

The familiar scent of ash and sweat lingered faintly, a testament to his grueling day.

Without a word, his hand reached out, rough but warm, and landed gently on your head.

His fingers ruffled through your hair in a way that was both playful and dismissive, tousling it slightly.

A light smirk played on his lips as he pulled his hand back, his crimson eyes meeting yours briefly.

“I know you can handle things here, so I’ll leave you to it,” he said, his voice low and casual, like he hadn’t just brushed past the idea of spending time with you.

As you stood out in front of him, the confidence and courage you had gathered from cooking in the kitchen had disappeared.

Now that you felt this way, there was no way you were going to bring up spending time with him over dinner.

Even though you had spent all evening preparing this relaxing for the both of you to enjoy, you couldn’t bring yourself to to tell him.

You were scared that if you had opened up, he might have gotten angry and dismissed all your worries with his furrowed brows.

Your heart sank a little at his words, but you forced a small smile, not wanting to let it show.

He turned on his heel without a second glance, his footsteps carrying him toward the staircase that led to the second floor of your shared home.

As he walked, his broad shoulders swayed slightly, his relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the tension that suddenly gripped your chest.

You stood frozen for a moment, your mouth hanging slightly open, the words you wanted to say stuck somewhere in your throat.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked rapidly, willing them away. You hated how they burned, how they threatened to spill over.

This wasn’t the first time Bakugo had brushed things off, but tonight, with the effort you’d put into dinner and the mounting distance you felt between you two, it stung more than usual.

He reached the first step of the staircase, his hand brushing against the railing as he prepared to ascend.

At you stood, something inside you snapped—a small but resolute voice urging you not to let the moment slip by.

Swallowing hard, you gathered the courage you had left, your voice trembling slightly but steady enough to cut through the air.

“Can I go too?”

Bakugo paused mid-step, his back still facing you, as the silence stretched between you both.

For a moment, you wondered if he had even heard you or if he’d continue up the stairs without a response.

Then, he turned his head slightly, revealing his side profile, his crimson eyes glancing at you.

“You wanna come?” he asked, his tone even and unreadable, a single brow raised in surprise.

Your hands instinctively came together, fidgeting as you avoided his gaze.

“Yeah,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Gathering a bit more courage, you glanced up at him, noticing his blank expression.

It only lasted a second before you looked down again, unsure how your request would be received. “I mean, if that’s okay…”

Bakugo stared at you for a beat longer, his brow still raised as if trying to gauge your seriousness.

Then, his features softened, his raised brow lowering as he gave a small, nonchalant nod.

“Yeah, uh, sure,” he said, his voice carrying a casualness that made it hard to tell how he really felt.

Without another word, he turned back toward the stairs.

Relief washed over you, and a small smile crept onto your face as you followed his movements with your eyes.

It wasn’t much, but his agreement made you feel a little better, a small step toward closing the gap that had been forming between you two.

As Bakugo reached the first step of the staircase, he stopped again, his hand on the railing.

He turned his head just enough to look back at you, his expression neutral but firm.

“I’m leaving by 6, so get ready,” he said, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Then, without waiting for a response, he ascended the stairs, his heavy footsteps echoing through the quiet house.

You stood there in the kitchen, your smile slowly fading as his words sank in.

Glancing at the half-finished dinner you’d worked so hard on, your arms dropped to your sides, mirroring the exhaustion settling in your chest.

The kitchen felt colder now, emptier, as you stood there alone, staring at the plans you’d made that now felt insignificant.

With a deep breath, you tried to shake off the weight of disappointment, forcing yourself to move and tidy up the counter.

But no matter how much you willed yourself to focus on the task at hand, the sting of his casual dismissal lingered, leaving a quiet ache in its wake.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The soft hum of the Porsche's engine filled the quiet evening air as Bakugo sat in the driver’s seat, his hand drumming absentmindedly on the steering wheel.

His gaze occasionally flicked toward the house, his sharp crimson eyes scanning for any sign of you.

The minutes ticked by, and though he didn’t say it out loud, he was growing impatient.

But there was a part of him that understood why you were taking your time—he had sprung this last-minute outing on you, and you deserved a moment to get ready properly.

Inside, you were slipping on your white Converse, carefully tying the laces with precision.

The finishing touch to your outfit had just been added—a chic combination of blue jeans, a navy blue tank top, and a white cardigan that fell perfectly against your frame.

You smoothed down the fabric, giving yourself a once-over in the mirror by the door.

Your navy blue purse rested comfortably on your shoulder, and the messy bun you’d styled earlier sat perfectly atop your head, with the white headband completing the look.

Satisfied, you grabbed your keys and reached for the door handle.

As you stepped outside, the soft glow of the porch light illuminated your figure.

The evening air was cool against your skin, and the faint scent of freshly cut grass lingered.

You glanced toward the sleek black Porsche parked in the driveway, where Bakugo sat waiting for you.

Inside the car, Bakugo looked up as the light from the open door seeped out, drawing his attention.

His sharp gaze landed on you, and for a moment, his breath hitched.

You looked stunning—effortlessly chic yet understated, the kind of beauty that didn’t need to try too hard.

The way the soft curls framed your face, the navy blue of your tank top complementing your skin, and the casual elegance of your outfit made his heart skip a beat.

He blinked, trying to maintain his usual composure, but the faintest tint of pink crept onto his cheeks, betraying him.

It was subtle, just enough to hint at the effect you had on him, but it was there.

His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly as he tore his eyes away for a brief second, trying to recover.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath, glancing at the dashboard as if it could somehow distract him.

But his gaze inevitably drifted back to you, his expression softening in a way only you could bring out in him.

He didn't say anything just yet—he wasn’t the type to gush—but the way his cheeks betrayed a rare blush spoke volumes.

The soft hum of the Porsche’s engine was steady as Bakugo sat, his hand draped nonchalantly over the steering wheel while the other rested against his mouth.

His sharp crimson eyes flicked away from you as you descended the steps toward the car, trying to keep his focus elsewhere.

The blush that had crept onto his cheeks earlier lingered faintly, and though he wouldn’t admit it, seeing you like this had thrown him off his usual composure.

You opened the passenger door with care, stepping into the car and adjusting yourself in the plush seat.

The faint scent of Bakugo’s cologne mingled with the new-car smell, giving the cabin a warmth that was uniquely him.

As you closed the door gently behind you, you glanced up to see him leaning against the driver’s side, his elbow propped on the car door and his hand casually gripping the wheel.

His relaxed posture was natural, but the way his eyes darted toward you from the corners of his vision betrayed a subtle curiosity.

“Sorry I took so long,” you said softly, brushing a loose curl behind your ear.

Your voice broke the quiet tension, and you weren’t sure if you imagined his lips twitching into a faint smirk.

“It’s fine,” he replied, his tone gruff yet calm, as he adjusted himself in the seat and placed both hands on the wheel.

Hearing the simplicity of his response made you smile, a quiet warmth blooming in your chest.

You carefully removed your bag from your shoulder, placing it neatly on your lap.

Bakugo, meanwhile, shifted the car into reverse, the soft rumble of the engine vibrating beneath you as he backed out of the driveway with precision.

You stole a quick glance at him from the corners of your eyes.

The streetlights outside cast a warm, golden hue that framed his sharp jawline and stern features as he focused on maneuvering the car.

He looked so effortlessly confident, so in control—it was hard not to admire him.

Reaching up, you flipped open the vanity mirror above your head, giving yourself a quick once-over.

You smoothed down a stray curl and checked your lipstick, making sure everything was still in place.

Satisfied, you closed the mirror with a soft click and adjusted in your seat, letting your gaze wander back to him.

The quiet of the ride was broken only by the sound of the tires rolling over asphalt and the faint hum of the radio playing low in the background.

You bit your lip lightly, debating whether or not to say what had been on your mind.

Finally, you took a small breath, your fingers beginning to fidget nervously with the strap of your bag.

“Sooo…” you began, your voice tentative as you glanced out the window, gathering your thoughts.

Bakugo didn’t respond immediately, his focus remaining on the road ahead. His silence urged you to continue, so you did.

“How do I look?” you asked, your tone light yet tinged with curiosity.

Your gaze flickered toward him briefly before quickly looking back down at your lap, where your fingers continued to toy with your bag strap.

The quiet hum of the car filled the space between you and Bakugo, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

His eyes were fixed on the road, one hand on the wheel, while the other rested lazily on the gear shift.

You waited patiently, watching him through your peripheral vision, hoping for some kind of reaction to your question.

He didn’t answer immediately, his gaze momentarily darting toward you before returning to the street ahead.

The streetlights flickered as they passed, casting warm, golden hues across his sharp features.

His silence stretched on, and for a moment, you wondered if he hadn’t heard you.

Finally, Bakugo turned his head slightly, his crimson eyes flickering toward you.

His gaze traveled up and down, taking in the effort you’d put into your outfit—the way your cardigan fell over your tank top, the way your jeans fit perfectly, and the way you’d styled your hair just so.

His expression remained stoic, but his eyes lingered just a beat longer than usual before he turned back to the road.

“You look,” he began, his voice even though there was a slight edge of hesitation.

He glanced at you again, briefly meeting your expectant gaze before focusing back on the street.

You could see his jaw tighten slightly, as if he were searching for the right words. “Good.”

That was it. Just one single, lackluster word.

Your shoulders sank immediately, the corners of your mouth pulling down as disappointment washed over you.

You slumped back into the passenger seat, crossing your arms loosely over your chest and shifting your gaze out the window.

You had spent so much time getting ready, hoping that maybe this time, he’d notice—really notice—and say something that would make you feel special.

But “good” was all you got.

Bakugo, on the other hand, was far from unaffected, though he certainly didn’t show it.

His mind was racing, replaying the moment he’d glanced at you and the way your face had lit up with hope.

His knuckles tightened slightly on the steering wheel, and a bead of sweat formed at his temple as frustration with himself began to build.

His brows furrowed as he stole another glance at you.

You were staring out the window now, your expression unreadable but your body language screaming disappointment.

“Tch,” he muttered under his breath, gripping the wheel tighter.

You remained quiet, sinking further into your seat as the car rolled through the neighborhood streets.

Your fingers toyed with the edge of your cardigan, your mind replaying the moment over and over.

Maybe you’d set yourself up for disappointment.

Maybe this was just who he was—gruff, blunt, and not the type to shower you with compliments.

Still, you couldn’t help the small ache in your chest.

Bakugo’s jaw clenched as he continued to drive, the silence between you both growing heavier with each passing second.

───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The drive to Kirishima’s house was silent, the tension lingering like an unspoken weight between you and Bakugo.

He didn’t try to make conversation, and honestly, you weren’t sure you’d be able to respond even if he did.

Your disappointment sat heavy in your chest, though you were doing your best to push it down and keep your composure.

When the car finally rolled to a stop in front of Kirishima’s house, Bakugo shifted into park and stepped out without a word, slamming his door behind him.

You sighed softly, your fingers gripping the strap of your purse as you reached for the handle of the passenger door.

Opening it, you slid out of the car, closing it gently behind you.

Bakugo was already several steps ahead, his strong strides carrying him toward the house without so much as a glance back at you.

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling tight as you followed behind him, your fingers nervously playing with the strap of your purse.

You felt small and distant, the space between you and Bakugo feeling far more than just physical.

As Bakugo reached the front porch, the sound of laughter and chatter drifted through the air, spilling out from behind the closed door.

The lively atmosphere of the gathering inside only seemed to amplify the quiet distance you felt from him.

Bakugo raised a hand and knocked on the door firmly, stepping back slightly as he waited.

You stopped a few paces behind him, your hands gripping your purse strap tightly as your mind raced.

You were determined to stand tall, to keep your emotions in check and not let anyone see how you were feeling.

The door swung open after a few seconds, revealing Kirishima’s grinning face.

His red hair was as wild as ever, and his cheerful energy was almost infectious.

“Yo, man! You made it!” Kirishima greeted Bakugo with a hearty slap on the shoulder before turning his attention to you. “Hey! Good to see you too!”

“Hey, Kiri,” you said softly, forcing a small smile as you stepped closer to the door.

“Come on in! Everyone’s already here,” Kirishima said, stepping aside to let the two of you in.

You followed Bakugo inside, the warmth and energy of the room enveloping you immediately.

Mina, Jirou, Denki, and Sero were sprawled out in the living room, laughing and chatting amongst themselves.

Mina was the first to notice your arrival, her eyes lighting up as she waved enthusiastically.

“Hey, you two!” Mina called out, jumping up from her seat and rushing over to you.

She wrapped you in a quick hug, her bubbly personality as bright as always. “You look so cute tonight! I love your outfit!”

“Thanks, Mina,” you replied, your smile faltering slightly as you glanced toward Bakugo.

He was already making his way toward the group, offering a brief nod of acknowledgment before settling into a seat near Sero.

Denki grinned, leaning back on the couch and tossing a chip into his mouth. “Look who finally decided to show up. We thought you might’ve bailed on us, Bakugo.”

“Shut it, Sparky,” Bakugo shot back, though there was no real bite in his tone.

As the group erupted into laughter, you found yourself lingering near the edge of the room, unsure where to place yourself.

Mina noticed your hesitation and grabbed your arm gently.

“Come sit with us! You can’t just stand there looking all pretty and quiet,” she teased, leading you toward the group.

You let her guide you, settling into a spot on the couch beside Jirou.

The lively conversation around you was a stark contrast to the swirling emotions in your chest, but you did your best to blend in, laughing when it felt appropriate and nodding along to the banter.

All the while, your eyes occasionally flicked toward Bakugo.

He was laughing with Sero and Denki, his usual gruff demeanor softened slightly by the presence of his friends.

But not once did he look your way, and that small detail gnawed at you more than you wanted to admit.

You inhaled deeply, forcing yourself to focus on the moment and not the ache in your chest.

Tonight was about being with friends, and you were determined to make the most of it, even if things with Bakugo felt more complicated than ever.

You sat on the couch, nestled between Jirou and Mina, trying to focus on their lively conversation.

Bakugo was across the room, laughing with Sero and Denki as if the weight of the world didn’t exist.

You glanced at him briefly, your chest tightening before quickly averting your eyes back to Mina, who was animatedly recounting a story about a recent date with Kirishima.

“So, get this,” Mina said, her face lit with excitement. “Kiri and I went to this new arcade last week, right? And they had this claw machine he swore he could beat. It was filled with these little red dragon plushies—totally his thing, you know?”

Jirou smirked, leaning back against the couch. “Let me guess. He spent way too much money trying to win one?”

“Way too much!” Mina exclaimed, throwing her hands up dramatically. “But he finally got it, and he was so proud of himself. It was adorable.” She giggled, her expression softening.

“Honestly, though, it’s not even about the claw machine. Kiri and I just… we have fun, you know? We go out, we talk about everything.”

Jirou nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “That’s exactly how it is with me and Denki. He’s a dork, but he’s my dork. We go to concerts, hang out at record stores, and just… talk. Like, really talk. He tells me about his day, his dreams, even the dumb stuff that happens during patrols. It’s nice, being so connected.”

The warmth in their voices as they spoke about their relationships was palpable, and it made you feel like a shadow in their light.

You shifted in your seat, suddenly hyper-aware of the tightness in your throat.

“And you,” Mina said, turning her bright eyes toward you. “How are things with you and Bakugo?”

Jirou tilted her head, her expression curious but kind. “Yeah, how’s it going? You two seem solid.”

The question hit you like a punch to the gut.

You opened your mouth, but no words came out at first.

Your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your cardigan, and you forced a smile, even as your chest felt like it was caving in.

“Oh, we’re fine,” you said, your voice a little too high-pitched. You cleared your throat quickly, trying to steady yourself. “Everything’s good. Really good.”

Mina beamed. “That’s great! You two are like, the power couple. I mean, he’s Bakugo—grumpy as hell but so in love with you. It’s obvious.”

“Totally,” Jirou added, nodding. “You balance each other out, right? He’s all intensity, and you’re like this calming presence. It works.”

You laughed softly, the sound hollow to your own ears. “Yeah, it works,” you echoed.

They bought it, smiling warmly at you before diving back into their own banter.

But inside, you felt like you were crumbling.

The truth was, things weren’t fine.

They hadn’t been for a while. Bakugo’s constant focus on work, his friends, and his own world had left you feeling like an afterthought.

You glanced at him again.

He was leaning back in his chair, laughing at something Denki said, his sharp features softened by the rare smile on his face.

It was a side of him you loved, but right now, it only made the ache in your chest worse.

Forcing yourself to stay present, you turned back to Mina and Jirou, nodding along to their conversation.

You couldn’t let them see the truth—not here, not now.

So you plastered on your smile and pretended everything was fine, even as the weight of your unspoken feelings threatened to crush you.

---

An hour passed as you, Mina, and Jirou chatted away about everything under the sun—relationships, patrol stories, and even a hilarious moment when Denki shocked himself trying to fix a broken lamp.

Despite the warmth of their company, a small part of you still felt detached, your earlier feelings lingering like a shadow.

Mina, ever the bubbly one, suddenly perked up. “Hey, I just thought of something! Let’s go to the other room and watch a movie! I’ve been dying to see that new romance everyone’s talking about. What do you think?”

Jirou shrugged, a hint of a smile on her face. “Sounds good to me. I could use a break from all the noise out there.”

You hesitated, but the thought of getting away from the others, even for a little while, seemed appealing. “Yeah, sure,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

The three of you made your way to a quieter room down the hall.

It was cozier than the bustling main area, with soft lighting and a plush couch that wrapped around most of the room.

The atmosphere immediately felt more intimate and calm, a perfect escape.

Mina grabbed the remote and flopped onto one side of the couch. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road!”

Jirou settled next to her, her legs tucked beneath her while you took the other end of the couch.

The movie started, its opening scenes filled with charming banter and budding romance.

The three of you fell into a comfortable silence, the story drawing you in.

As the movie progressed, the lighthearted moments gave way to more emotional scenes.

The characters faced challenges, their love tested by misunderstandings and miscommunications.

Then, the pivotal scene arrived.

The male lead stood in the rain, his face etched with regret as he argued with the female lead.

Her voice broke as she shouted, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t get it! I feel invisible to you!” she cried, her words hitting too close to home for your comfort.

Your chest tightened as you watched her crumble, her emotions raw and unfiltered.

The male lead, realizing his mistake, stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as she sobbed against his chest.

Your heart ached, the scene striking a chord that you couldn’t ignore.

The floodgates opened, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face.

Your breathing grew shallow, and your palms began to sweat as you clutched the couch cushion beside you.

Mina and Jirou, engrossed in the movie, didn’t seem to notice your reaction at first.

But as you sniffled quietly, Jirou glanced over, her expression softening. “Hey, you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle.

You quickly wiped your cheeks, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… really emotional,” you said, your voice wavering slightly.

Mina turned her head, concern flickering in her eyes. “It’s okay to cry, you know. Scenes like this get me every time,” she said, offering you a reassuring smile.

You nodded, appreciating their kindness but feeling exposed nonetheless.

The movie continued, but your mind was elsewhere.

The female lead’s words echoed in your head, intertwining with your own unspoken feelings.

“I feel invisible to you.”

The weight of those words settled in your chest, and though you tried to focus on the screen, the tears wouldn’t stop.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to keep it together, but the truth was, you felt more vulnerable than ever.

The tears came harder, no longer quiet sniffles but soft, trembling sobs that you couldn’t hold back.

The scene on the screen blurred as your vision clouded with tears, and your chest felt impossibly heavy.

Mina and Jirou both turned toward you, their expressions shifting from casual concern to alarm.

“Whoa, hey… are you okay?” Jirou asked, leaning closer, her voice gentle but tinged with worry.

Mina’s brows furrowed, her lips pressing into a thin line.

She grabbed the remote and paused the movie, the room falling into silence except for your shaky breaths.

She scooted closer to you, her hand resting lightly on your arm.

“Alright,” Mina said firmly, her tone serious but warm. “What’s going on? This isn’t just about the movie, is it?”

You shook your head quickly, trying to wipe the tears away with the back of your hand, but they just kept coming.

“It’s nothing,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jirou gave you a skeptical look. “Come on, don’t do that. You’re obviously upset.”

Mina nodded, her grip on your arm tightening just slightly in encouragement. “Yeah, we’re here for you. So whatever it is, just say it.”

For a moment, you hesitated.

The lump in your throat made it hard to speak, and you didn’t want to burden them with your feelings.

But the way they looked at you, genuinely concerned and ready to listen, broke down the last of your defenses.

“It’s… it’s Bakugo,” you finally admitted, your voice cracking as fresh tears rolled down your cheeks. “I just… I feel like we’re drifting apart.”

Mina’s eyes softened, and Jirou tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful.

“What do you mean? Did something happen?” Mina asked, leaning forward, her tone gentle now.

You took a shaky breath, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. “I don’t know… it’s like he’s always so busy, and when he’s home, it’s like I’m not even there. He doesn’t notice when I try to do things for him. I cooked dinner tonight, hoping we could eat together and talk, but he just brushed it off and left to hang out with you guys.”

Mina’s face fell, a pang of guilt crossing her features. Jirou’s lips pressed together, her brow furrowing.

“I know he’s a hero, and I know his job is demanding, but… I just feel so invisible to him sometimes. Like I’m not a priority,” you continued, your voice trembling. “And I’m trying so hard to be okay with it, but it’s just… it’s hard.”

Mina reached for your hand, squeezing it tightly. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t realize things were like this.”

Jirou nodded, her gaze serious. “That sounds really tough. You shouldn’t have to feel like that, especially not with someone who’s supposed to care about you.”

You sniffled, grateful for their support, but still feeling the weight of your emotions. “I don’t know what to do anymore. I love him, but… it feels like he’s slipping away.”

Mina wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a comforting hug. “You’re not alone in this, okay? We’ll figure it out. And honestly, Bakugo needs to hear this too. He probably doesn’t even realize how much he’s hurting you.”

Jirou nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he’s not exactly the most emotionally aware guy, but he cares about you. You just have to tell him how you feel.”

Their words brought a small measure of comfort, but the thought of confronting Bakugo about your feelings still terrified you.

You knew they were right, though. Something had to change.

You sat there in Mina’s embrace, your tears slowly subsiding, though your chest still felt tight.

The weight of their words lingered, and you knew they were right.

As terrifying as it seemed, you had to talk to Bakugo.

But how? He wasn’t exactly the type to sit down and have a heart-to-heart.

Mina pulled back slightly, her warm hands resting on your shoulders as she looked you in the eye. “You have to tell him,” she said firmly.

“And not in a ‘hinting’ kind of way. Lay it all out. He’s not good at picking up subtle stuff.”

Jirou nodded, leaning back on the couch. “Yeah, Bakugo’s not gonna magically figure it out. But if you’re honest with him, I think he’ll listen. He’s stubborn, but he’s not heartless.”

You sniffled, wiping your face with the sleeve of your cardigan. “I just… I don’t want to come off as needy or like I don’t support him. I know how hard he works.”

Mina sighed, shaking her head. “Girl, no. This isn’t about being needy. This is about being in a relationship where you feel seen and loved. You’re allowed to have needs, too.”

Jirou added, “And honestly? If he doesn’t get that, then that’s on him. Relationships are about both people putting in effort. It’s not all on you.”

You nodded slowly, their words sinking in.

It wasn’t easy to hear, but deep down, you knew they were right.

You couldn’t keep bottling everything up and hoping things would magically improve.

Mina smiled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Look, Bakugo might be a hothead, but he’s not a bad guy. If he knew you were feeling this way, I think he’d do something about it. But you’ve got to give him the chance to step up.”

You sighed, fiddling with the strap of your purse. “I guess I’ll try talking to him later… when we’re alone.”

“Good,” Mina said with a nod, her tone encouraging. “And if you need backup, you know where to find us.”

Jirou smirked slightly. “Yeah, we’ll set him straight if he doesn’t get the message.”

The three of you shared a small laugh, the tension easing just a bit.

Mina grabbed the remote and turned the movie off completely, standing up and stretching.

“Alright, let’s get back to the others before they start wondering what we’re up to.”

You nodded, standing up and smoothing out your clothes.

As the three of you made your way back to the main living room, you felt a mix of emotions swirling inside you.

Anxiety, hope, and determination all competed for space in your heart.

As you stepped into the room, Bakugo was standing near the corner with Kirishima, laughing at something Sero had said.

His usual sharp smirk was etched on his face, but there was something different in the way his eyes flickered toward you, a hint of something unreadable beneath his confident exterior.

For a moment, you just watched him, debating how you’d navigate the rest of the evening while the conversation with Mina and Jirou still echoed in your mind.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Bakugo had heard everything.

It wasn’t intentional.

On his way to the bathroom earlier, he had walked past the closed door of the cozy room where you and the girls had been talking.

At first, he hadn’t thought much of it—just chatter from Mina and Jirou, nothing unusual.

But then he caught the sound of your voice, trembling slightly, and his feet had stopped.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. Really, he hadn’t.

But something in your tone made him pause, leaning against the hallway wall just out of sight.

He listened as Mina and Jirou pressed you about how things were going between the two of you.

He heard the way your voice wavered when you said everything was fine—so unconvincing that even he could tell it was a lie.

And then came the confession.

You weren’t happy.

You felt ignored, neglected.

You felt like he didn’t see you anymore.

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe.

You, the person he cared about most, felt like you were slipping away, and he hadn’t even noticed.

His knuckles clenched, and his jaw tightened as he leaned his head back against the wall.

Guilt surged through him, hot and unrelenting. He wasn’t great with emotions; he knew that.

But hearing you spill your heart out to your friends, feeling like he didn’t care enough—it stung more than he wanted to admit.

When Mina and Jirou encouraged you to talk to him, he heard the hesitation in your voice, the fear of being seen as needy or overbearing.

It made his chest ache. You should never feel like that—not with him.

He had walked away before you left the room, needing a moment to collect himself.

By the time he rejoined the group, his mind was racing.

As you stepped into the living room, Mina nudged you gently with her elbow. “You’ve got this,” she whispered before heading to the group, leaving you to take a deep breath and square your shoulders.

Bakugo, standing near the corner, glanced your way.

His sharp smirk remained, but his eyes lingered on you a little longer than usual, softening for the briefest second before he turned back to Kirishima and the others.

He didn’t say anything, but in the back of his mind, he was already planning.

He wouldn’t let you feel like this again. Not if he could help it.

---

The night had wound down, and one by one, everyone began saying their goodbyes.

Mina and Kirishima gave you tight hugs, Mina giving you a reassuring smile as if to silently remind you of the conversation you’d had.

Jirou patted your arm, her subtle way of showing she was rooting for you.

Bakugo, meanwhile, was his usual self—casual nods, a few gruff “See ya’s,” and a fist bump for Kirishima.

His energy seemed as steady as ever, though you noticed the way his eyes flickered toward you more than once, a slight crease in his brow that he didn’t quite hide.

As the two of you made your way to his car, the quietness of the night enveloped you.

The cool breeze brushed against your skin, and the sound of your shoes crunching against the gravel filled the silence.

You felt Bakugo’s presence ahead of you, his confident stride unchanging, though he occasionally glanced back to make sure you were keeping up.

When you reached the car, he pulled his keys from his pocket, unlocked the doors, and slid into the driver’s seat.

You followed, gently closing the passenger door behind you and placing your bag on the floor by your feet.

The faint scent of leather and his cologne filled the space, a scent you usually found comforting.

Without a word, Bakugo started the engine.

The low rumble of the car filled the stillness as he pulled out of the driveway and onto the street.

His hands rested on the wheel, firm but relaxed, his eyes trained on the road ahead.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, trying to read his expression, but it was the same stoic mask he always wore.

The weight of the evening felt heavy in your chest, and despite the warmth of the car, you felt a chill run through you.

The drive was quiet at first, the soft hum of the engine the only sound between you.

You wanted to say something, anything, but the words felt stuck in your throat.

You fidgeted with your fingers, your gaze shifting between the passing streetlights outside and Bakugo’s profile.

He hadn’t said much since you left Kirishima’s house, and it left you wondering if he’d noticed the distance between you—or if it even mattered to him at all.

Bakugo’s hands tightened slightly on the wheel as he drove, his jaw clenching and unclenching as if he was working through something in his mind.

His gaze remained steady, but every now and then, you noticed his eyes flicker toward you, though he said nothing.

The silence was deafening, and with every passing second, it felt like the space between you grew larger.

Finally, unable to take the tension anymore, you shifted in your seat and let out a soft sigh, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Thanks for driving,” you said, your tone polite but distant.

He grunted in response, a low “Yeah,” his focus still on the road.

The quiet settled again, heavier this time, and you found yourself staring out the window, the lights of the city blurring past.

You wanted to say more, to breach the gap between you, but something held you back.

Bakugo, meanwhile, stole another glance at you, his expression unreadable.

He wanted to speak, to address the weight in the air, but the words felt foreign to him.

For now, he just drove, the road stretching ahead, both of you caught in your own thoughts.

The car hummed softly as the city lights flickered past, but the silence between you and Bakugo felt louder than anything else.

You leaned your head against the cool glass of the window, your eyes fixed on the blurred scenery.

Your hand rested on your lap, fingers nervously fidgeting with your nails as your thoughts raced.

What had started as disappointment had now spiraled into uncertainty.

You couldn’t shake the weight of the conversation with Mina and Jirou, nor the growing chasm between you and Bakugo.

You’d tried so hard to keep it together, but being here, so close yet feeling so far, made it even harder.

Bakugo kept his eyes on the road, his grip on the wheel firm.

Inside, he was battling a storm of emotions.

The echoes of your words from earlier replayed in his mind, mingling with the snippets of the conversation he’d overheard at Kirishima’s.

“I just… I don’t know how much more I can take.”

He wasn’t good with words.

Hell, he wasn’t even good at feelings most of the time. But he wasn’t stupid—he could feel the distance, and it frustrated him because he didn’t know how to close it.

His crimson eyes flickered to you briefly.

The way you sat there, so quiet and withdrawn, tugged at something deep in his chest.

He hated seeing you like this, especially knowing he’d been the one to make you feel this way.

After what felt like forever, Bakugo’s resolve finally cracked.

His hand hesitated on the wheel, fingers tightening for a moment before he let out a sharp breath.

Slowly, almost cautiously, he reached over.

His hand covered yours, warm and slightly rough, the weight of it grounding you.

You blinked, startled by the sudden contact, and turned your head to look at him.

Bakugo didn’t meet your gaze right away.

His eyes stayed focused on the road ahead, his jaw tight, like he was bracing himself for something.

His thumb shifted slightly, brushing against your fingers in an awkward but earnest gesture.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, almost hesitant. “Stop doin’ that.”

You stared at him, confused. “Doing what?”

“Fidgetin’ like that,” he muttered, finally glancing at you for a split second before looking back at the road. “You’ll mess up your nails or somethin’.”

His words were gruff, almost dismissive, but the way his hand stayed on yours told you there was more to it.

He wasn’t just talking about your fidgeting—he was trying, in his own clumsy way, to tell you he cared.

Your chest tightened as you looked down at your joined hands.

The warmth of his touch, the slight awkwardness of the gesture—it all made your emotions bubble up again, but this time, they weren’t as heavy.

“Katsuki…” you began, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t,” he interrupted, his grip on your hand tightening just a fraction. “Don’t say it. Not here, not like this.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat, and leaned back against the seat.

For the first time that evening, the silence between you didn’t feel quite as suffocating.

The car came to an abrupt stop at a red light, but the tension in the car felt like it had slammed into a wall at full speed.

Bakugo’s hand hovered over the wheel, his knuckles white as he gripped it.

His chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, but your anger was a storm now, and it couldn’t be contained.

“Seriously?” you demanded, your voice sharp and trembling. “If not here, then where? If not now, then when?”

Your hand yanked away from his, the warmth of his touch replaced by the cold sting of frustration. “You always say that, Bakugo. You always brush our problems away. You… you brush me off like I’m some kind of bug.”

His eyes darted to you, his lips parting as if to defend himself, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“You treat me like I’m not worth your time,” you continued, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “Do you even know what I was doing before you came home? I was cooking dinner. For you. For us.”

Your hands shook as you gestured toward him, your words pouring out in a rush. “I did all of that so we could talk, so we could try to fix this. Just so I could know—know for sure—that I mean something to you.”

The light turned green, and Bakugo hit the gas with a little more force than necessary, his jaw tight as he stayed silent.

But you couldn’t stop now.

“But of course,” you spat, your voice rising, “your friends are more important! Work, training, hangouts—all of it is more important than me!”

The car swerved slightly as Bakugo’s grip faltered, and he shot you a glance, his brows furrowed in frustration and guilt. “But they’re not! You’re more important—”

“Don’t give me that crap!” you cut him off, your voice almost a shout now. “If I’m so important, then why do you keep pushing me away? Why do you make time for everyone and everything else but not for me? Huh? Answer me!”

Bakugo’s mouth opened, but no words came out. His silence was deafening, and it only stoked the fire inside you.

“Why, Katsuki?” you pressed, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and hurt. “Why do I have to fight so hard to feel like I matter to you?”

The car pulled into your driveway, and Bakugo threw it into park, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly it looked like he might snap it in two.

For a moment, the only sounds were your ragged breaths and the faint hum of the engine.

Finally, Bakugo exhaled sharply and turned to you, his crimson eyes filled with a mixture of guilt, frustration, and something else—something softer, something that looked a lot like regret.

“You do matter,” he said, his voice low but firm. “You mean everything to me, damn it. I just… I don’t know how to show it.”

But you shook your head, the tears you’d been holding back finally spilling over. “That’s not enough, Katsuki. It’s not enough to just say it. I need to feel it. And right now, I don’t.”

Your words hung in the air, heavy and unshakable, as Bakugo stared at you, his expression unreadable.

For once, the explosive hero had no words, and the silence between you felt like it could split the world in two.

Your chest heaved as the emotions you’d been holding in for so long spilled over.

Tears streamed down your face, your voice trembling and raw as you finally let everything out.

“Why couldn’t you have just spent time with me?” you cried, your voice breaking as your gaze locked on Bakugo.

He flinched at the pain in your voice but said nothing, his hands clenching into tight fists on his lap.

“Why couldn’t you see that while you were having fun, I was feeling miserable?!” you continued, your words cutting through the silence like shards of glass.

Bakugo’s eyes darted toward you, filled with a mix of guilt and helplessness, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.

“Listen, Katsuki...” you began, your voice softer but no less intense. “I love you. So much it hurts.” Your words hung in the air, trembling with sincerity. “But it’s starting to feel like... like you don’t feel the same.”

His head snapped up at that, his crimson eyes wide and frantic. “That’s not true!” he blurted, his voice rough and unsteady. “Don’t—don’t say that, alright?”

But you shook your head, your tears falling harder now. “Then why does it feel like I’m always fighting for your attention? Fighting for a moment of your time?”

Your voice cracked, and you pressed a trembling hand to your chest, as if trying to hold yourself together.

Bakugo opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

His jaw tightened, and his gaze fell to his lap, his fingers gripping his knees so hard it looked painful.

You could see the frustration, the guilt, the turmoil swirling in his expression, but it wasn’t enough.

It didn’t fix the ache in your heart.

“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Like I’m not enough for you. Like I’m not your priority.”

Bakugo’s head snapped up again, his eyes blazing with emotion. “You are my priority!” he insisted, his voice desperate now.

“You’re everything to me, alright? I just... I just don’t know how to handle all this shit sometimes!”

His voice cracked at the end, and for the first time, you saw something in him you rarely did—vulnerability.

He looked at you like he wanted to say a million things but didn’t know where to start.

But it wasn’t enough. Not yet.

“Then show me, Katsuki,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. “If I mean so much to you, then show me. Because words aren’t enough anymore.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, the only sound in the car was the faint hum of the engine.

Bakugo looked at you, really looked at you, and for once, the explosive hero seemed completely lost.

Bakugo’s chest rose and fell with unsteady breaths as he stared at you, his crimson eyes shadowed with guilt and frustration.

He opened his mouth to respond, but the words seemed to die in his throat.

His hands clenched tighter on his lap, and he turned his gaze to the steering wheel, as if looking at you was too much to bear.

The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating.

You could feel your heart breaking all over again as you watched him struggle to say something—anything—that could make it better.

“You’re right,” he finally said, his voice low and strained. “I’ve been a shitty boyfriend.”

The admission startled you.

Your breath hitched, and you blinked through your tears as you waited for him to continue.

“I’ve been so focused on everything else—work, training, trying to keep up with everyone—that I didn’t realize what it was doing to you. To us.”

He dragged a hand through his hair, the motion rough and frustrated. “And that’s on me.”

His voice trembled slightly, and he slammed his fist against the steering wheel, the sharp thud breaking the tense quiet. “Dammit, I didn’t mean to make you feel like this. Like you don’t matter.”

You watched him, your tears still falling, but something in his voice tugged at your heart.

It wasn’t just guilt; it was desperation.

“But you do, alright?” he said, turning to face you fully now. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, raw and unguarded.

“You matter more than anything else in my life. I just... I don’t know how to balance it all without screwing it up.”

His hands trembled as they rested on his thighs, and you realized how much it was costing him to admit this.

Bakugo Katsuki, the man who always seemed so sure of himself, so strong and unshakable, was unraveling in front of you.

“You’re not the problem, alright? I am,” he continued, his voice softer now. “And I swear to you, I’ll fix this. I’ll fix us. Just... don’t give up on me yet.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his words, but the pain you’d been carrying for so long still lingered.

You looked at him, your tears blurring your vision, and took a shaky breath.

“Katsuki, I’m not asking for perfection,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m asking for you to try. To make me feel like I’m worth it. Like we’re worth it.”

He nodded, his jaw tight as he swallowed hard.

“I will,” he said, his voice firm despite the emotion in his eyes. “I’ll prove it to you. I’ll be better. For you.”

You stared at him, searching his face for sincerity, and what you saw there made something in your chest loosen.

He looked at you like you were his whole world—like he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you.

For the first time in a long time, you felt a flicker of hope. It was small, fragile, but it was there.

“Okay,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Bakugo nodded again, his eyes never leaving yours. “You can.”

The car fell into silence again, but this time, it wasn’t heavy or suffocating.

It was filled with unspoken promises, with the beginnings of something better.

And for now, that was enough.

---

Bakugo’s hand enveloped yours, firm yet gentle, as if he was anchoring himself to you.

The warmth of his grasp communicated what his words had struggled to convey earlier—a need, a desire to hold on to you no matter what.

The silence in the car was filled with unspoken understanding as you both sat there, the weight of the evening settling between you.

When the car finally pulled into your driveway, you barely had time to move before Bakugo was already out of the driver’s seat.

He strode purposefully around the car, his movements sharp yet filled with intent.

You blinked in surprise as he opened the passenger door, crouching down to your level.

His crimson eyes met yours, raw and unguarded. “You mean a lot to me,” he began, his voice steady but thick with emotion.

“So much... and I’m sorry for not showing you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his words tumbled out, each one more heartfelt than the last.

“I’m sorry for not replying. I’m sorry for not being there. I’m sorry for not showing up,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly as he leaned closer.

“I promise, though, from now on... everything I do, I’ll do it with you on my mind.”

His hands found their way to your thighs, a touch so gentle and deliberate it sent a shiver through you.

It wasn’t just an apology—it was a plea, a vow.

“I promise you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “that from now on, I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel loved. So please, don’t give up on me. Please, don’t lose hope.”

Your heart clenched at the vulnerability in his tone, the rawness of his confession.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you managed a small, wavering smile as you placed your hand over his.

“You swear?” you asked, your voice trembling with emotion.

His grip on your thigh tightened just slightly, his crimson eyes boring into yours with unwavering determination.

“I promise,” he said, his voice firm yet soft.

That was all you needed to hear.

A small, genuine smile spread across your lips as you nodded.

For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt the weight lifting off your chest.

After a moment, Bakugo stepped back slightly, holding out his hand to you.

You placed your hand in his, and he helped you out of the car with a gentleness that contrasted his usual brash demeanor.

Once you were both standing, he didn’t hesitate—he pulled you into a tight, almost desperate hug.

His arms wrapped around your waist, holding you as if he was afraid you’d slip away.

His head rested against your shoulder, and you could feel the tension in his body slowly melting away.

“I missed you,” you whispered, your fingers threading gently through his spiky blonde hair.

“I missed you more,” he murmured against your shoulder, his voice low and filled with emotion.

You stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, the world around you fading into insignificance.

It was as if time had paused, giving you both a chance to reconnect, to heal.

When he finally pulled back, his hands still rested on your waist, and his gaze locked onto yours.

The intensity in his eyes took your breath away, and before you could say anything, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was an apology, a promise, a declaration.

His lips moved against yours with a fervor that made your knees weak, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as if to ground himself.

You responded just as passionately, pouring every ounce of love, frustration, and hope into the kiss.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together.

His crimson eyes softened as he looked at you, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “For not giving up on me.”

You smiled back, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

He chuckled softly, his voice lighter than it had been all evening. “I won’t. I swear.”

In that moment, standing together in the driveway under the soft glow of the porch light, you felt something shift between you.

A new beginning, built on honesty and love. And for the first time in a long time, you believed things could truly get better.

ADULT BAKUGO FANFICTION

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chocobje · 1 day ago

Note

How I like to characterize Sprout is that he’s great talking with the ones he’s close with (Cosmo, Astro, etc.) But incredibly socially awkward with others. He comes off as brash, but he’s trying his best.

What guidelines do you try to follow when writing Sprout? I’m just curious.

Thanks for giving me the opportunity to yap about one of my favourite characters hehe..

You asked for guidelines I gave you a character analysis instead.

(Don't mind the images I didn't want this post to look naked)

ALSO NOTE THAT AT THE END OF THE DAY THIS IS MERELY MY INTERPRETATION OF HIS CHARACTER. EVERYONE HAS THEIR OWN!! Don't take my post as a mandatory guide to follow.

Let's talk about what's canon:

I like checking the Wikipedia for his dialogues every now and then to make sure he's not too out-of-character.

Sprout comes off as blunt, he does not sugarcoat his words when he has something to say.

Not even an excuse or a reason as to why he doesn't want to join Teagan for tea; It was straight up a "no" until Teagan told him Cosmo will join them too. (Also I want to point out he doesn't immediately say yes when he's told Cosmo will be there, so for all we know he'd still decline even if his best friend's joining Teagan).

Dandy's dialogue when you purchase Sprout. I think about it a lot. Out of all the character dialogues, the one with Astro is what I feel like is an example of his overprotectiveness coming across as "pushy".

He'd definitely be the type to scold his friends. Especially after Gardenview's shutdown with all the Twisteds wreaking havoc and whatnot. I don't think Sprout is fond of going on runs, but only does so he can watch over everyone and keep them safe. He makes sure everyone is focused and on high alert, he doesn't want anyone to be reckless.

He prioritizes safety over answers. His dialogue with Rodger shows that. Maybe he's also curious as to what has happened, because in Vee's dialogue he tried talking to Dandy only for Dandy to walk away. I assume Sprout just wanted to check up on him rather than knowing what's going on with Gardenview and the Twisteds.

Another thing I don't really see often is how Sprout is actually pretty forgetful and impulsive.

For a Toon who's constantly keeping watch on everyone he surely does not apply the same kind of attention to himself.

He talks before thinking about his words, but once he realized that he immediately apologized to Vee. I don't think he always notices when he comes across as rude though.

I actually think he's actually quite reckless when he bakes. I obviously can't show it in this post but if you look at that animation with Cosmo and Sprout baking they're not even measuring the ingredients. I mean what. 😭

The way he bakes feels so impulsive and it just looked like they were winging it. Somehow despite that their baked goods still end up great and that's honestly impressive.

Okay now for that dialogue between Bobette and Sprout, I was getting there-- I've never made a gingerbread house but from what I've seen from other people it requires a lot more patience and carefulness.

Sprout is neither.

According to him, his gingerbread house fell apart immediately and then he stopped trying afterwards. It's honestly funny.

I feel like this also shows through his stats. Both his extraction speed and skillcheck is 2 stars. His stamina and speed is way higher. He prefers running around, probably to make sure he can watch over everyone during their runs. That or because he has long legs.

Anyway to recap; Sprout in canon is blunt, pushy, overprotective, and impulsive. But he genuinely has good intentions and means well. He cares for his friends, which is why he scolds them because he wants to make sure they're safe.

Now for some headcanons:

Okay this is the part where I make stuff up. So it's just my take;

• He has ADHD.

I'M STARTING WITH THE NEURODIVERGENT HEADCANON.

This is not a unique headcanon. I've seen so many people who headcanons this too so it's relatively popular. Personally, I only see him with ADHD. (I'm projecting).

He's forgetful, impulsive, and quite socially awkward in a way aswell. He's easily distracted. He keeps forgetting about the oven. He's impulsive when baking. I'm a very impulsive and reckless person myself, I constantly make mistakes when I draw, yet somehow they end up okay 😭. When I'm not able to draw something right, I give up immediately. (I projected this onto the gingerbread house thing earlier).

• He comes across as intimidating.

You know in Kids' birthday parties when there's a mascot a lotta kids go run and hide? I based it off of that. I remember when I was like, 6 or 7, when a mascot came in I cried and hid under a table. They were tall.. <\3

I feel like there was a concerning number of kids who were actually afraid of him, despite how friendly he appears both in person and in the show. Maybe it's the RBF when he's not smiling..

I also like to think he's taller than some of the kids who comes to Gardenview which plays a factor to the whole "intimidating" thing. The way Sprout deals with this is giving the kids cupcakes or other sweets. Once the kids actually talk to him they're immediately comfortable.

• He was one of the very first to become "Twisted".

I don't have a concrete idea on how the story of the game goes, but I always imagine the Mains being the first victims. Sprout is a healer and he keeps an eye on everyone, so he had to go first.

–

Okay, I think that's all now. If you read all of that wow thanks, this took me hours to write 😭. I love overanalysing characters.

#ask #rambles #can you tell i think about him a lot #Sorry asker this might not what you've expected #But I needed an excuse to start yapping about Sprout and his character cause it's so interesting #I might have missed a lot of other details tbh #Oh well!#Anyway bonus headcanon Filipino Sprout.#No evidence no basis no proof I just want him to be Filipino cause I am too #This was genuinely so fun to do tbh #if you guys like these posts I can try making them for other characters too #dandys world #dandy's world #dandys world sprout #dandys world analysis #dandys world headcanon #dandys world hcs #character analysis

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fangdokja · 22 hours ago

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🔞“He says he’d do anything for you. But would you believe him?”

❤︎ Synopsis. Beneath his playful smile lies a predator in waiting—muscles honed for control, a filthy mind veiled by charm, and a dark obsession that festers with every glance you give him. You think he’s harmless, but when his restraint finally snaps, you’ll learn just how wrong you’ve been.

♡ Book. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Best Friend x Fem. Reader

♡ Headcanons. Unspoken Desires - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 5,580

♡ TW. dom + top + older + sadistic yandere, general non-con + manipulation, fear play, isolation, monitoring, non-con kissing and/or touching, forced relationship, BDSM, depression and mental illnesses, implied suicidal tendencies, unhealthy coping mechanisms, masturbation, hinted needle play, degradation, name calling, implied drugging

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr content guidelines involving mental illnesses, self-harm, and suicide, some plot details of the original story were purposefully made ambiguous to fit the platform.

♡ A/N. Actually I was trying to write wholesome, then it went to my usual writing style oop. Though, I wouldn't really say this is explicit. Seems lax for me, but that also has its own appeal.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who grew up with you in a tiny village nestled deep in the heart of a high fantasy world, where magic thrummed beneath the earth like a heartbeat and gods were whispered about in the rustling of leaves. A world where war and peace ebbed and flowed like the tides, and your childhood playgrounds were forests that spoke in riddles and rivers that glowed faintly under moonlight.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who first met you when you saved his life—or maybe he saved yours. You can’t even remember anymore. But you were just kids back then, barely old enough to wield a knife, much less survive a wolf attack in the woods. He’d laughed with bloodied teeth and sparkling eyes, like almost dying was the best day of his life.

"You’re an idiot," you’d muttered as you yanked him out of the beast’s jaws, dragging him behind a tree.

"Yeah, but you saved me," he grinned through bloodied teeth, his grin wide enough to split his face.

"Only so I don’t have to explain to everyone else why I let you die."

"Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that."

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who was always a little too much—too fast, too loud, too bright. The kind of kid whose presence filled every corner of a room, whose schemes were impossible to ignore, and whose laugh could somehow make you feel both exhausted and alive.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who was the sun, burning at a temperature that should’ve incinerated him, and you? You were the moon, distant and cold, orbiting him only because you didn’t mind the warmth.

"You’re like a puppy," you said once, watching him pace excitedly as he rattled off yet another harebrained scheme.

"Like a what?" He froze mid-step, his eyes wide with mock offense.

"A puppy. Annoying, loud, and too full of energy."

"I am not annoying!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms out dramatically. "I’m charming."

"Sure you are."

"And loud? That’s just passion!"

"Passion’s another word for obnoxious, you know."

He gasped, clutching his chest like you’d stabbed him. "Take it back!"

"No."

"You’re heartless!"

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who was your partner in everything. You weren’t just two kids in a village—you were an unstoppable duo, a myth in the making. Climbing mountains to see if you could touch the clouds, sneaking into the elder’s home to steal forbidden scrolls, setting traps for monsters that only existed in bedtime stories.

"You’re going to get us caught," you whispered as he crouched beside the elder’s door, fiddling with the lock.

"Not if you keep watch," he replied, grinning like this was the most fun he’d ever had.

"Keep watch? I’m not an accomplice to your idiocy."

"Too late. You’re already here."

"By force."

"Uh-huh. And yet you’re still standing here, helping me."

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched into a reluctant smile. "I hate you sometimes."

"Only sometimes? I must be doing something right!"

Everyone else thought he was insane, but you always followed. Not because you believed in his harebrained schemes, but because his chaos made you feel alive in a way you didn’t understand.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who was terrifyingly smart in ways that shouldn’t have been possible. He didn’t just think outside the box; he dismantled it, set it on fire, and then asked why it existed in the first place. He could weave together plans and schemes that made grown adults stammer in awe—or fear.

"You’re going to blow us up one day," you deadpanned as he rigged a trap out of nothing but twigs and string.

"Not ‘blow up,’" he corrected, his hands moving deftly. "Just… scare off the bad guys."

"Bad guys? You mean the squirrels?"

"They’re shifty little things."

"You’re insane."

"And yet, you’re still standing here."

"To see how you plan to die this time."

But he was also the same boy who fell into rivers because he forgot they were slippery, or who got stuck in a tree because he didn’t think about how he’d climb back down.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who, even as a child, hated the idea of losing you. He didn’t show it in ways you’d notice—he wasn’t clingy or possessive yet—but he’d always insist on being there.

"You don’t have to follow me everywhere," you grumbled one day, watching him trail behind you.

"Yeah, but what if something happens to you?" he said, grinning like it was a joke.

"Like what? Tripping on a rock?"

"You joke, but rocks are deadly."

"You’re impossible."

"And you’re stuck with me."

Wherever you went, whatever you did, he was there. Even when he got mad at you, even when you got mad at him, the idea of being apart was something neither of you could bear.

────────────

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who, as you both grew older, turned your childhood games into full-fledged adventures.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who always made sure you had his back, just as he had yours. It didn’t matter if you were facing bandits, cursed creatures, or labyrinths that seemed impossible to escape—he would always find a way to pull you through.

And you’d do the same for him, even when he tried to stop you. Especially when he tried to stop you.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who hated how you always put yourself in danger for him.

Whether it was throwing yourself in front of an attack, volunteering to distract enemies so he could escape, or using the last of your strength to save him, it drove him absolutely insane.

He’d smile through gritted teeth, trying to play it off as his usual carefree self, but you could see the tightness in his jaw, the way his hands clenched into fists.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who started to argue with you more and more because of it.

At first, it was just teasing jabs—“You know, one day you’re going to get yourself killed pulling stunts like that.”

But when you kept doing it, his tone grew sharper, his words harsher. “Do you even care about your own life? Do you think I’d just let you throw yourself away like that?!”

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who, despite his frustration, couldn’t stop you.

No matter how many times he argued, begged, or outright yelled at you to stop risking yourself, you always brushed him off with that infuriatingly calm logic of yours.

“If I didn’t, you’d be dead. So what’s the problem?” And every time you said it, he felt like his chest was going to explode—partly from anger, but mostly from fear.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who would never admit it, but the thought of losing you terrified him more than anything else in the world.

He’d rather lose a limb, his powers, even his own mind, if it meant keeping you safe.

And the fact that you didn’t seem to value your life as much as he did made something dark and desperate coil in his chest.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who, during one of your worst arguments, snapped. His usual charm and humor vanished, replaced by raw, unfiltered rage.

“Do you think I need your sacrifices? That I’m some helpless idiot who can’t survive without you throwing yourself in harm’s way? I’m not weak, and I don’t want to watch you die for me, do you understand that?!”

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who stormed off after that, leaving you both in silence for hours, maybe even days.

But when he came back, he wasn’t angry anymore.

His voice was calm, his smile soft, but there was something unsettling about the way he looked at you, like he was trying to memorize every inch of you in case you disappeared.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who started to take more control over your adventures after that. He’d laugh and joke like normal, but he always seemed to steer you away from the most dangerous paths, even if it meant taking longer to reach your destination.

And if you ever tried to put yourself in harm’s way again, he’d find a way to stop you—whether it was with words, tricks, or, in the most extreme cases, outright forcing you to stay behind.

———

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who never thought he liked you as anything more than a best friend. You were his partner-in-crime, his constant, the only person who truly understood him. He couldn’t imagine his life without you, but that didn’t mean he liked you like that.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who felt something strange the first time you smiled at someone else like you smiled at him.

It was during one of your adventures—a random stranger you helped along the way. They cracked a joke, and for the first time, you laughed. Not your usual quiet, wry chuckle, but something brighter, something real. He grinned along with you, but inside, something cold and heavy settled in his chest.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who didn’t understand why it bothered him so much when others got too close to you.

You’d always been his.

Not in a romantic way—just in the way best friends were.

You were his partner, his moon, the person he trusted more than anyone.

But when someone else tried to share your attention, that bad feeling in his chest twisted into something darker.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who started noticing it more and more.

The way you’d listen to someone else’s plans without questioning them, even though you always teased his. The way you didn’t hesitate to step between someone else and danger, even though you knew it would make him furious. The way your expression softened when you thought no one was watching, as if you never looked at him like that.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who told himself it was nothing, just a weird phase.

Maybe he was overthinking it.

He had no reason to be upset.

You were his best friend—you weren’t going anywhere. But the more he thought about it, the more that thought didn’t feel like enough.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who started acting without realizing it. His smiles grew sharper when others talked to you, his words more cutting, his presence heavier. He’d laugh it off when you called him out, waving his hand like it was all a joke, but deep down, he knew it wasn’t.

He just couldn’t figure out why.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who, during one of your adventures, snapped at you for the first time in a way that wasn’t about your safety.

It was something small—someone you met on the road had complimented you, and you’d actually smiled back.

He didn’t know what came over him, but before he could stop himself, he was already muttering, “You’re just going to smile at anyone now, huh? What’s next, inviting them to join us?”

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who immediately regretted it when you frowned and looked away. You didn’t argue back, didn’t tease him like usual. You just stayed quiet, which somehow felt worse than anything you could’ve said.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who started avoiding the subject entirely after that. He went back to his usual carefree self—laughing, joking, pulling you into more wild adventures.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who didn’t know why he felt this way until one night, while camping under the stars, he caught himself staring at you. The way the firelight flickered across your face, the way your usually emotionless eyes softened when you stared into the flames, the way you always sat close enough for him to feel your warmth but never closer.

Something in his chest ached, and for the first time, he realized why.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who didn’t want to admit it. Didn’t want to ruin what you had, didn’t want to think about what it might mean.

But he couldn’t stop himself from wondering. Wondering if anyone else could make you smile the way he did.

Wondering if anyone else could be your constant.

———

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who isn’t stupid—he knows you don’t see him the way he sees you.

He can tell by the way you laugh around him, carefree and unguarded, like you’re sharing a joke with an older brother. By the way you roll your eyes at his antics, always more amused than annoyed.

By the way you lean on him, not like someone who’s in love, but like someone who trusts him to always be there, no matter what.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who knows he’s just your best friend, the person who drags you on adventures and watches your back.

Nothing more, nothing less.

But that doesn’t stop the knot in his chest from tightening every time you treat him like something so casual.

Like he’s just another part of your world, instead of your entire world, the way you are to him.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who wonders sometimes if he’s being selfish, wanting more than what you’re already giving him. You let him into your life, trusted him in a way you trusted no one else. But it wasn’t enough.

It was never enough.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who pretends it doesn’t bother him, flashing his usual grin and cracking jokes whenever you call him out for being clingy.

“Can you blame me? You’re my favorite person in the world! No one else even comes close.” But underneath the laughter, his mind is racing, twisting, plotting.

Because if you couldn’t love him the way he loved you, then he’d just have to make sure no one else could either.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who starts pushing the boundaries of your friendship without you even noticing.

Casual touches linger just a second too long, playful teasing takes on a sharper edge, and his protectiveness turns into something almost suffocating. If you notice, you don’t say anything—maybe because it’s easier to brush it off as just him being his usual self. But he knows better.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who tells himself it’s fine.

That he can wait. That you’ll realize it eventually.

That you’ll see no one else will ever understand you the way he does, no one else will ever protect you the way he does, no one else will ever love you the way he does.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who grows darker, quieter, when someone else gets too close to you. The usual charm and humor are still there, but there’s something off about the way he smiles, too sharp and too cold.

He won’t say anything at first, just watching, waiting, calculating.

But if they try to take you away, to pull you out of his orbit, that’s when things start to unravel.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who starts isolating you without you even realizing it. He’s the only one who can keep up with you, the only one who knows how to handle your quirks and your flaws.

The only one who will never leave you. He plants the idea so carefully, so subtly, that you don’t even question it.

It’s just the way things are.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who knows, deep down, that you don’t love him the way he loves you.

Not yet, at least. But that’s okay.

Because he doesn’t need your love—he just needs you.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who tells himself it doesn’t matter how long it takes. Days, months, years—it’s all the same to him.

Because in the end, you’ll cave.

You’ll see that no one else could ever love you the way he does. That no one else could ever deserve you.

———

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who didn’t even realize how far gone he was until one day, when you were bathing, he accidentally walked in.

You didn’t scream, didn’t flinch, didn’t even care.

Just stared at him with those cold, emotionless eyes of yours and calmly said, “Door’s unlocked.”

As if it was nothing.

As if the sight of your bare skin, the water sliding down your body, wouldn’t haunt him for the rest of his life.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who felt his breath catch in his throat, his usual wit failing him for once.

He laughed it off awkwardly, muttered some excuse about needing something, and stumbled out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

But the image of you was burned into his mind, refusing to fade no matter how hard he tried to shake it off.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who hated himself for it, hated how much his body reacted to you.

He wasn’t supposed to think about you like this, wasn’t supposed to feel this way.

But no matter how much he tried to fight it, the memory of you kept creeping back in, setting his skin on fire and making his heart race.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who found himself lying awake that night, your image replaying in his mind on an endless loop.

He could still see the way the water glistened on your skin, the way your hair clung to your shoulders, the way you looked at him so casually, so apathetically, as if you had no idea what you were doing to him.

———

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who you’ve always seen as a goofy, harmless puppy.

Sure, he’s tall and muscular—towering over most people effortlessly—but his easygoing attitude and boyish charm have always made him seem more like a loyal guard dog than anything remotely dangerous. You’ve never thought twice about sharing space with him, leaning on him, treating him like the oversized, overprotective best friend he appears to be.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who knows exactly what you think of him. He plays his part so well: the playful idiot, the one who makes you laugh when you’re down, the one who keeps you safe without asking for anything in return.

And while some parts of that are true, they’re far from the whole story. Because the truth is, underneath that sunshine grin and those puppy-dog eyes, he’s not your harmless protector. He’s something much darker, much more dangerous, and he hides it all so well.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who doesn’t just want you—he wants to own you.

Every glance, every laugh, every little touch you give him fuels something primal inside of him, something he keeps locked away beneath layers of charm and wit. Did you think his broad shoulders and ripped physique were just for show?

That all those hours spent training, honing his body, were just about looking good? No. It was for you. It’s always been for you. To keep you safe. To keep others away.

To ensure that when the time comes, no one—not even you—could stop him from taking what’s his.

———

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who goes home after a long day with you, his head swimming with the way your body brushed against his, the way your apathetic expression softened for just a second when you cracked one of your rare, sarcastic jokes.

It’s unbearable, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in his chest, and by the time he’s alone, he’s already burning up with the need for release.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who hates how much power you have over him. Hates how weak you make him feel when he’s wrapped around your little finger, playing the role of your goofy best friend when all he really wants is to pin you down and make you look at him differently—to see him not as your protector, but as something darker.

Someone who could ruin you in ways you’ve never even imagined.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who locks himself in his room, leaning back against the door with a sharp exhale, his muscles tight with tension.

The second his hand dips into his waistband, it’s like a dam breaking. He doesn’t even try to fight it anymore. His mind goes straight to you—how you’d feel, how you’d sound, how you’d look beneath him, your apathetic mask cracking under the weight of his touch.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who starts slow, dragging his hand lazily over his length as he pictures the way you’d squirm beneath him, trying to keep your composure. He knows you’d fight him at first—of course you would—but he also knows how easily you’d give in if he played his cards right.

How easily he could shatter your walls and make you depend on him, need him, the way he needs you.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who whispers your name under his breath, his voice rough with desperation as his strokes grow faster, harder, more erratic.

His mind races with all the things he wants to do to you, all the ways he wants to mark you, claim you, destroy you so completely that no one else could ever have you the way he does.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who bites his lip to muffle the low, guttural sounds escaping his throat, his free hand gripping the edge of his desk so tightly his knuckles turn white.

He pictures you underneath him, tears welling in your eyes as you try to push him away, only to melt under his touch. The thought makes his head spin, and his hips jerk up involuntarily as he chases his release.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who finally spills with a choked groan, your name falling from his lips like a broken prayer. The pleasure rips through him like a tidal wave, leaving him trembling and breathless, his body taut with the intensity of it.

But as the high fades, a darker satisfaction settles over him, mixed with a burning hunger that refuses to be quenched.

♡ Yandere! Best Friend who leans back against the wall, wiping a hand over his face as he catches his breath.

He feels no guilt, no shame—only a gnawing desire for more.

Because this isn’t enough. It’ll never be enough.

He wants you for real, not just in the dark recesses of his mind.

———

You lay there, the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing the only thing that pierced the quiet of the night. The warmth of the small, candlelit room was comforting, a stark contrast to the cold, dark woods outside the village walls.

You were nestled in your bed, the soft fabric of your nightgown clinging to your body as you drifted in and out of consciousness, your dreams filled with the excitement of the adventures you and your best friend had shared throughout the years.

Unbeknownst to you, his eyes were fixated on your form, his gaze hungry and possessive. He'd been watching you for hours, his thoughts growing darker with every passing minute.

He knew you didn't see him the way he saw you, but that was a problem that could be rectified.

He took a deep breath, his hand moving to the bulge in his pants, and whispered to himself, "Mine. You're always mine." His grip tightened as he began to stroke himself, his eyes never leaving your peaceful face.

The sound of his zipper was the only disturbance in the stillness, and he felt his heart pound in his chest as he grew harder at the thought of you, his untouchable moon.

"Sleep tight, fucktoy," he murmured, a twisted smile playing on his lips, "because when you wake up, you'll finally know who you truly belong to."

The tension grew palpable as his strokes grew quicker, his breathing becoming ragged and erratic. He was lost in his own twisted fantasy, imagining the way your eyes would widen in shock and fear as you awoke to find him there, invading your personal space, claiming what he believed was rightfully his.

"You think you can ignore me?" he whispered harshly, the anger and frustration in his voice barely contained.

"You think I don't notice when you laugh with others, when you let them touch you?" His hand moved faster, his teeth clenched in determination. "You're mine, and you always will be. I'll make sure of it."

His eyes roved over your body, lingering on the curve of your hip, the swell of your breasts, and the delicate line of your neck. The urge to reach out and touch you, to mark you in some way, was almost overwhelming.

But no, not yet.

The anticipation was too sweet.

He sat on the edge of the bed, the soft mattress groaning slightly under his weight. The room was suffocating in its darkness, only the flickering candle on the bedside table casting dancing shadows across your peaceful face.

He could see the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the soft sound of your breaths echoing in the quiet space. It was a sound he'd become all too familiar with, a sweet melody that lulled him into a sense of security and power.

His hand moved under the covers, the fabric of his own trousers straining against his growing arousal. He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his breaths even as he touched himself.

His eyes never left you, studying every curve and line of your body as if he could burn the image into his mind. You were so close, yet so far away. It was infuriating, a constant reminder of what wasn't his.

Yet.

He corrected the thought in his head with a smirk.

You were his, had always been his, even if you didn't know it yet.

He'd make sure of it.

His hand stroked faster, the wet sounds of his self-indulgence seeming too loud in the otherwise silent room. He couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of triumph as he watched your chest rise and fall, oblivious to the dark desires that swirled around you like a tempest.

"Bitchy cumdump," he murmured under his breath, the word a vile whisper that seemed to hang in the air like a curse.

"Rape slut." He liked those names, the way they painted a picture of you that was so much more… palatable than the cold, untouchable moon you portrayed to him.

But you could also be warm, alive, full of passion and fire, and he knew it.

He just hadn't figured out how to make you burn for him alone.

His hand stroked himself roughly, his eyes never leaving your sleeping form. You had your back to him, the soft curves of your body hidden beneath the thin fabric of your nightgown.

It was almost translucent, revealing the shadowy outline of your curves, your skin so pale it seemed to glow in the moonlight filtering through the window.

His eyes roved over you greedily, taking in every detail, his mind racing with thoughts of what lay beneath that delicate exterior.

He reached out with his other hand, the one not busy with his own desires, and traced a line down your spine.

You shifted slightly, a soft sigh escaping your lips, but you remained asleep. The sound of his own breath grew heavier, his strokes more frantic as he felt the heat of your body through the fabric.

"Mine," he whispered again, his voice low and guttural.

It was a promise, a vow that echoed in the quiet of the room, a declaration of war against anyone who dared to claim you.

His breath hitched as he reached the peak of his desire, his hand moving faster and faster as he thought of claiming you, making you his in every way possible.

With a low, primal growl, he came, his seed spilling onto the bed sheets.

The warmth and wetness of his release brought him back to reality, his hand slowing as he stared at the evidence of his obsession with you.

His heart raced in his chest, a heady mix of longing and satisfaction coursing through his veins. He had never felt so alive, so powerful, so… right.

He leaned back against the headboard, his eyes still glued to your form. You hadn't stirred, hadn't woken up.

It was like you were a doll, a perfect creation made just for his amusement.

He felt a twisted sense of pride that you hadn't noticed his depravity, that his need for you was so strong it could only be expressed in the dark when you were at your most vulnerable.

But that would change.

Oh, how it would change.

As he withdraws his hand from the warmth of his climax, he was careful not to disturb you, his eyes lingering on the soft rise and fall of your chest. He reaches for a cloth beside the bed to clean up the mess he’s made, his mind racing with thoughts of what he’ll do next to claim you fully.

He’s always been the one to watch over you, the one to save you, the one who understands you better than anyone else.

But now, it’s no longer enough to just be your best friend.

He reaches under his bed, his hand brushing against the cold, rough fabric of a hidden bag.

The zipper whispers open, revealing an assortment of morally questionable items: ropes, gags, handcuffs, and a few bottles of clear liquid with handwritten labels. The scent of leather and something else—something darker—wafts out, mingling with the stale air of the room.

His breath hitches as he runs his fingers over the contents, feeling the weight of each item. They're tools of his obsession, tokens of the future he's crafting in his twisted mind.

His eyes flicker back to you, sleeping so peacefully, so utterly unaware of what's to come.

He pulls out a syringe from the bag, the cold metal glinting in the moonlight.

With practiced hands, he fills it with a pink liquid, the viscous substance swirling within the glass tube like a trapped, desperate thing.

It's a potion of his own making, something that would ensure that when the time came, you'd be too compliant to resist him.

He's not a complete monster—he doesn't want to take you by force, not yet at least.

But he knows that the path to your heart is paved with fear and obedience.

He rolls the plunger between his thumb and forefinger, feeling the liquid warm against his skin. The anticipation of using it on you makes his breath catch.

He watches you sleep, the fabric of your nightgown clinging to your body like a second skin. His eyes trace the gentle curves of your breasts and the way your hips dip before flaring out, the shadow between your thighs taunting him with what lies beneath.

The urge to claim you fully is overwhelming, but he reminds himself that patience is key.

Instead, he allows his gaze to linger, his hands straying to the syringe filled with his homemade potion—a blend of aphrodisiac and sedative that would make you pliable in his hands. He imagines pushing it into your soft flesh, watching as the liquid fills you, turning you into a vessel of his desires.

He reaches out with trembling hands, his breath shallow and ragged with anticipation. His fingertips graze the soft fabric of your nightgown, tracing the line of your slit, feeling the heat radiating from your body. You stir slightly in your sleep, but do not wake, oblivious to the violation he's about to commit. He gently parts the fabric, exposing your bare skin to the cool air of the room.

He takes one of the syringes filled with his potion and holds it up to the moonlight, admiring the way the liquid shimmers. "Soon, you'll be mine," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper, thick with lust and possession.

He brings the needle closer, poised at the entrance of your pussy, savoring the moment. "And no one will ever be able to take you from me."

────────────

If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. 🔞Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

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ariahmichelle · 2 days ago

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I want to be that someone- Drew Starkey x actress!reader.

This is a part 2 to ‘Phoning it in’ Part 1 here

•••••••••• ••••••••• •••••••••••

You were home now, but your mind wasn’t. Sitting cross-legged on your couch, you stared at your phone resting on the coffee table, Drew’s text still lighting up the screen.

Alright, you got me good. But seriously, don’t scare me like that again. I’d miss you too much. 😅 Also, come over later? I wanna talk about something.

Your heart had been racing since the moment you’d read it. You still hadn’t replied, and it wasn’t like you to leave Drew hanging. You two had always been easy—no overthinking, no awkward pauses, just years of natural friendship. So why did your stomach flip at the thought of what he wanted to talk about?

You knew why. You’d felt something shift during that prank call. You weren’t sure if it was Drew’s fake marriage proposal, his insistence that you couldn’t leave Outer Banks, or the way his voice softened when he told you he’d miss you too much. Whatever it was, it made your chest tighten in a way that you couldn’t ignore.

Finally, with a deep breath, you grabbed your phone and typed out a reply.

Sorry, I got caught up at the studio. I’ll be over at 7?

The dots indicating Drew was typing popped up almost immediately, giving you the go ahead.

Two hours later, you stood outside Drew’s apartment, fidgeting with the strap of your bag. This was ridiculous. You’d been here a million times before. But now, everything felt different. With a steadying breath, you knocked.

The door opened, and there he was, his familiar crooked smile greeting you. But even Drew looked a little… off. His usual easy confidence seemed to falter, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he stepped aside to let you in.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a little softer than usual.

“Hey,” you replied, feeling the awkwardness settle between you like a weight.

You both walked into the living room, where the table was already set with takeout. It was a normal thing for you two—sharing meals and laughing about whatever ridiculous thing had happened on set that day. But tonight, the tension was thick, and you both seemed to feel it.

Over dinner, you tried to keep things light, cracking jokes and filling the silence with small talk. Drew played along, but his usual playful sarcasm was subdued. He seemed distracted, like he was waiting for the right moment to say something.

You couldn’t take it anymore. After dinner, as you both moved to the couch, you turned to him, clutching a throw pillow in your lap.

“Drew,” you started, your voice coming out shakier than you intended. “What’s going on? You said you wanted to talk about something.”

Drew fidgeted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I, uh…” He let out a nervous laugh. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to say this without making things weird.”

Your heart hammered in your chest. “If it’s about the prank, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or—”

He cut you off, shaking his head. “No, it’s not that. Well, kind of, but not in the way you think.”

You blinked, confused. “Then what is it?”

Drew exhaled, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “When you mentioned going on Love Is Blind, it… it stirred something up in me. At first, I thought I was just worried about you leaving acting, but then I realized it wasn’t just that.”

You sat frozen, watching him intently. He looked nervous—genuinely nervous—and that wasn’t like him.

He glanced at you, his blue eyes searching yours. “The idea of you being with someone else, putting yourself out there for someone like that, whether it was thought some show or meeting someone anywhere else, made me realize something. I want to be that someone.”

Your breath caught, and your cheeks heated instantly.

“I’ve been trying to ignore it for a while,” he continued, his voice softer now. “But when I thought about you actually finding someone on that show, my heart just… dropped. And I couldn’t shake it. That prank just made me realize how much I… care about you. More than I probably should as your friend.”

For a moment, you couldn’t speak. Your heart was pounding, and the words Drew had just spoken hung in the air, heavy and raw.

“Is this your payback prank?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, trying to lighten the moment and hide how flustered you were.

Drew let out a soft laugh, his tension easing slightly. “No, it’s not,” he said, reaching out to take your hand. “I promise, it’s not.”

His hand was warm, steadying your nerves as he gave it a gentle squeeze.

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, your cheeks still burning. “You were the first person I thought of for that prank,” you admitted quietly. “Not just because I thought you’d find it funny, but because… I wanted to see if there was even a sliver of a chance that my feelings weren’t one-sided.”

Drew’s eyes softened, and he leaned closer, his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s definitely not one-sided,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your eyes flicked from his to his lips, and your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest. “Can I kiss you?” he murmured.

You nodded slowly, and Drew closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, but as you leaned into him, it deepened, years of unspoken feelings finally coming to the surface.

When you pulled back, you were both breathless. Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Drew laughed softly and tugged you closer, shifting you into his lap.

“This is insane,” you said, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “Our castmates are going to freak.”

Drew chuckled, resting his forehead against yours. “Let’s keep it our little secret for now,” he whispered. “We’ll figure it out. No pressure, no rush. Just… us.”

You smiled, feeling more at ease than you had in weeks. “Just us,” you echoed, leaning in to kiss him again.

————————

Let me know what u think! Anyone want a part 3 where the cast find out ?

#drew starkey x actress!reader #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x oc #drew starkey fic #drew starkey x you #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic

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soleilpinto · 22 hours ago

Text

Cruising in Papaya: Private but not Secret ˚‧｡⋆🍁

“Life’s Better on Saturn ” ˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚ (Saturn, SZA)

Synopsis: Y/N Laurant, a glamorous socialite, meets Lando Norris during a race weekend, sparks fly between the two, but as their feelings deepen, they struggle to balance their secret relationship with their public lives, all while navigating the pressure of the fast-paced F1 scene.

Genre: (Some) Angst, Fluff, Romance

AU: Social Media and Written!au

Pairing: Lando x Afab!Socialite!Reader

Warnings: None

Note: Did not expect to become so busy lately, this is the final part before the actual finale so everyone buckle up 😭 Thank you all for the support once again and as always don’t forget to like + reblog as a form of support!

Cruising in Papaya Masterlist. (Prev./Next.)

@pitlanespy the way y/n and lando are handling their relationship is so refreshing. they’re not flaunting, but they’re not hiding anymore either. we love a balanced couple

@chicanechatter y/n and lando have mastered the art of keeping it private but not secret. leave them alone and let them enjoy their love!

@turn1drama ok but y/n keeping things private yet giving us hints every now and then is such a power move. the girl knows her pr

@papayaruIes well duh, she’s a socialite. she’s practically an expert

@f1gossipupdates I can’t believe Y/N and Lando are finally being open-ish. Like, she really said ‘we’re together, but y’all don’t need all the details.’ I respect it!

The short off-season break had been a rare pocket for you and Lando to relax without the rush of race weekends or the scrutiny of flashing cameras. It was a crisp afternoon in Monaco, the sun reflecting off the gentle waves as the two of you sat on the terrace of Lando’s apartment overlooking the harbor.

With steaming cups of coffee in hand and a blanket draped over your shoulders, the moment felt calm, natural—far removed from the chaotic world outside.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” Lando broke the silence, his voice soft. “Being able to just exist without worrying about anyone watching.”

You glanced at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “It does. I was almost starting to forget what that felt like.”

The two of you had tiptoed the fine line between privacy and secrecy, but the responses to your soft launch had been surprisingly supportive.

Fans who had once speculated endlessly about your relationship now seemed to respect the boundaries you were trying to set. It was refreshing, almost liberating.

Lando set his mug down and turned to face you fully, his expression growing more serious. “I’ve been thinking about something,” he began, hesitating just enough to make you raise an eyebrow.

“That sounds ominous,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

He chuckled but didn’t look away, his blue eyes searching yours.

“I don’t want us to hide anymore,” he admitted.

“I mean, I know we’ve already agreed to keep the details of our relationship private—and I want to stick to that. But I hate the thought of going to the next Grand Prix without you. It feels wrong now like I’m leaving a part of me behind.”

Your heart softened at his words, but you couldn’t help the cautious tone in your response. “Lando, you know how intense it can get. Even with the positive reactions, there will always be backlash. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

He reached out, taking your hand in his.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything. I’ve been through enough to know that people will always have something to say, but it doesn’t matter to me. What matters is us—and I want you there with me, not just in the background but by my side. I think we can handle it together.”

You studied his face, finding nothing but sincerity in his expression. It was hard not to be moved by his resolve. You had spent so much time questioning if the two of you could make it work, but Lando’s unwavering confidence in your relationship made you want to believe it too.

“And you think it’ll make things easier if I’m there with you?” you asked, your voice teasing but soft.

He grinned, leaning closer. “I know it will. Plus, you being there might actually make all those post-race media sessions bearable.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Alright, Norris. You win. I’ll come with you to the next Grand Prix—but you’d better promise to share some of the attention.”

His face lit up with a mixture of relief and happiness, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “Deal.”

As the two of you sat back, the afternoon sun casting a golden glow around you, it was clear that this decision marked the start of a new chapter. No more hiding in shadows or ducking behind corners. You would face the world together, one race at a time.

The soft hum of Monte Carlo filled the space between your words as you sipped your coffee, the warmth of the mug grounding you.

Pietra leaned back into the plush armchair across you, her curiosity palpable as the sunlight bathed your living room in a golden hue.

“So,” Pietra began again, her voice playful yet genuinely inquisitive. “Are we finally getting the tea on you and Lando?”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head as you set your mug down on the table. “You’re so nosy.”

“Nosy?” she retorted, raising an eyebrow. “Please, I’ve been invested ever since that media meltdown since your birthday. There’s a difference. Now spill.”

Her lighthearted tone brought a smile to your face, but the memories of the past month made your chest tighten slightly.

Pietra had been one of your closest confidantes ever since you met Lando's close circle, one of the few who truly understood the chaos of public scrutiny and the complexities of trying to maintain a personal life within it.

If anyone could handle the details of what you’d been through, it was her.

Taking a deep breath, you began. “We’re good now,” you said, the words feeling like a balm as they left your lips. “Really good, actually. But it wasn’t always like that.”

Pietra’s expression shifted, her teasing giving way to concern. She leaned forward slightly, resting her chin on her hand. “What happened?”

You hesitated, your fingers lightly tracing the rim of your coffee mug as you gathered your thoughts.

“When everything blew up, it felt like the world was against us. The media was relentless, fans were speculating every little thing, and it felt like we couldn’t catch a break. It all came to a head, and we ended up having this huge fight.”

Her brows knitted together. “Over the media?”

“It was more than that,” you admitted. “It was the pressure, the constant hiding, the fear that we’d never be able to have something real outside of all the noise. Lando was frustrated, and I don’t blame him. But he said some things…” You trailed off, the memory still stinging.

Pietra reached over, placing a comforting hand on yours. “Things that hurt?”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah. And I was so overwhelmed, I left. Went back to Saint Tropez. For a while, I thought that was it for us. I couldn’t see how we’d come back from it.”

She squeezed your hand gently, her voice soft. “But you did.”

A small smile tugged at your lips.

“We did. During the break, Lando found out I was in Monaco. He called me—said he wanted to talk, that he couldn’t leave things the way they were. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see him, but when I did…” You paused, exhaling deeply. “It felt like the right thing to do.”

Pietra’s eyes softened, her smile encouraging you to continue.

“We had a long talk. About everything—what we want, what we’re afraid of, what we’re willing to do to make this work. It wasn’t easy, but we both realized that letting go wasn’t an option. We care about each other too much to let all the outside noise ruin what we have.”

Pietra leaned back, her smile widening. “That’s huge, Y/N. It sounds like you both really fought for this.”

You nodded, the relief of the memory settling over you. “We did. And now, we’re taking it one step at a time. He asked me to come to the next Grand Prix with him. He doesn’t want us to hide anymore, and honestly, I don’t either. But we’ve agreed to keep things private—no oversharing, no giving the media more than they need. Just us, on our terms.”

Pietra’s grin turned mischievous. “Oh, I can’t wait to see the paddock’s reaction when you show up with him again. The fans are going to lose it.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I’m sure they will. But for the first time, it doesn’t feel overwhelming. It feels… manageable.”

“That’s because you’re doing it the right way,” Pietra said confidently. “You’re setting boundaries, and you’re doing this together. It’s going to be okay.”

“Thanks, Pietra,” you said, your smile grateful. “It feels good to finally have some clarity, to know that we’re in this together.”

“Absolutely,” she said, a sparkle in her eye. “But don’t think you’re off the hook. You owe me every detail about how it goes when you’re back at the Grand Prix.”

You laughed, feeling a lightness you hadn’t in weeks. “Oh, trust me, I’ll have plenty to share.”

As the conversation shifted to lighter topics, you couldn’t help but feel a renewed sense of hope. For the first time in a while, the future with Lando felt bright, and you were ready to take on whatever came next—together.

liked by mclaren, lando and others

laurant.yn off-season kick off

francisca.cgomes 😍

mclaren starting the break right 🧡

lando ❤️

@f1landolove SHE POSTED HIM. SHE REALLY POSTED HIM. Y/N AND LANDO ARE OFFICIALLY OFFICIAL. I’M SCREAMING. 😭❤️

@paddockqueen_ Not me refreshing my feed 100 times today just to confirm it wasn’t a fever dream. Y/N posted Lando on her MAIN. THE MAIN!!! 🔥👀

@pitstopsocialite_ Y/N really said, “Soft launch era is OVER.” That pic of Lando is giving boyfriend energy. We love to see it. 🥰

@f1overdrive Okay, but I’m lowkey jealous… Y/N Laurant is the definition of having it all. Fashion icon + F1 driver boyfriend? Goals

@neutralnora Honestly, happy for them. Y/N seems like she keeps Lando grounded, and he deserves that. 🥹

@shadypaddock I give it six months. Relationships in the spotlight rarely last. 🙄

The energy in Singapore was electric, the vibrant city buzzing with excitement as race weekend loomed closer. You stood beside Lando, your suitcase rolling quietly behind you as you both exited the airport.

The humid air wrapped around you, mingling with the chatter of fans and photographers who had already spotted you.

Flashes of cameras ignited like small bursts of lightning, and the occasional murmur of your name reached your ears. You instinctively glanced at Lando, who gave you a reassuring smile, his hand brushing against yours.

“We’re really doing this,” you said softly, your voice a mix of nerves and determination.

“Yeah, we are,” Lando replied, his eyes meeting yours with steady resolve. “No more hiding. No more letting them control the narrative. It’s just us, and we’re not apologizing for it.”

The ride to the hotel was quiet, the occasional buzz of your phone from notifications breaking the silence. You knew the media frenzy was already kicking off—pictures and videos of the two of you had likely hit social media within minutes of your arrival. But for the first time, you didn’t feel the weight of it.

As you stepped into the hotel lobby together, the atmosphere shifted. Fans waiting in the lounge glanced your way, some pulling out their phones, their whispers barely audible over the soft music playing in the background.

“People are watching,” you said under your breath, your fingers brushing against his arm.

Lando chuckled lightly. “Let them watch. We’re not doing anything wrong.”

His nonchalant attitude eased the tension in your shoulders, and you found yourself smiling despite the circumstances. The two of you checked in without a hitch, the staff professional and discreet, even as you caught sight of a few camera flashes from outside the glass doors.

Once you reached the privacy of your suite, the tension you hadn’t realized you were holding finally began to dissipate. You sank onto the plush couch, letting out a long exhale.

“That wasn’t so bad,” you said, glancing at Lando as he placed your bags by the wall.

He sat beside you, leaning back with a grin. “See? I told you. We can handle this.”

You turned to face him, your expression softening. “It’s just… surreal. To finally be here with you, not worrying about every little thing. I mean, I know the rumors and gossip won’t stop, but it feels different now.”

“It does,” Lando agreed, taking your hand in his. “Because we’re not letting it control us anymore. We’re doing this our way, on our terms.”

You nodded, the warmth of his hand grounding you. “It’s going to take some getting used to, though. I’m sure the paddock will have a lot to say.”

“Let them,” Lando said with a shrug, his tone calm but firm. “I don’t care what they think, as long as you’re with me.”

His words sent a wave of reassurance through you, and you squeezed his hand gently. “You’re really good at this whole boyfriend thing, you know that?”

He grinned, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your temple. “I try.”

The two of you spent the evening talking, discussing how you’d navigate the paddock together, and agreeing to address any questions with a united front. By the time you went to bed, you felt a sense of peace you hadn’t in months.

The Singapore paddock buzzed with excitement, the air thick with humidity and anticipation for the race weekend ahead. As you and Lando walked through the gates together, it was impossible not to notice the ripple of energy your presence caused.

Fans lining the barriers gasped, some clutching their phones tightly as they captured the moment.

“There they are!” someone whispered loudly, their voice barely audible over the collective murmurs. “It’s Y/N and Lando!”

Flashes from cameras and phones lit up around you as you kept a steady pace beside Lando. He was calm, his expression relaxed but confident, while you mirrored his composure, your hand grazing his arm lightly as if to reassure yourself.

Fans erupted into chatter, their voices mixing with the distant hum of engines.

“Oh my God, they’re actually together.” “Do you think this means they’re official-official?” “They’re not hiding anymore, but they’re still so lowkey. I love it.”

As you passed a group of fans holding up McLaren flags, Lando glanced their way with a small wave and a quick smile. You couldn’t help but grin when you heard someone squeal, “He looks so happy!”

Inside the paddock, the atmosphere was no less intense. Team members and media professionals stole glances at the two of you, some openly curious, others trying to act nonchalant.

You caught sight of a camera crew lingering near the McLaren hospitality, their lenses subtly but unmistakably trained on you and Lando.

“Ready for the circus?” Lando muttered under his breath, leaning slightly toward you.

You smirked, keeping your gaze forward. “I think I can handle it. You’re the one who’s got to focus on racing.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers brushing yours in a fleeting touch. “I’ve got that part covered. It’s the rest of this that’s new for me.”

Before either of you could say more, you spotted Lily Zneimer and Hattie Piastri approaching from the McLaren hospitality, their faces lighting up when they saw you.

“You’re here!” Lily exclaimed, her voice full of excitement as she pulled you into a quick hug. “I was wondering when you’d show up!”

Hattie grinned, giving Lando a knowing look before turning to you. “And here I thought you’d keep us guessing forever.”

You laughed, your nerves easing slightly. “I figured it was time. Can’t keep hiding forever, right?”

“Exactly,” Lily agreed, linking her arm with yours. “And you’ve got us. The paddock isn’t so bad once you’ve got the right people.”

Lando excused himself briefly to check in with his team, leaving you with Lily and Hattie. You felt the stares around you but found yourself surprisingly unbothered, their presence grounding you.

When Lando returned, he didn’t hesitate to rejoin you, his arm brushing against yours in a way that felt both casual and intimate. He didn’t seem fazed by the whispers or the cameras subtly tracking your every move.

Instead, he leaned down slightly and murmured, “Told you we’ve got this.”

You glanced up at him, the corner of your mouth lifting into a small smile. “We do.”

As the two of you walked deeper into the paddock, side by side, it was clear to everyone watching: while you weren’t laying out the details of your relationship, you weren’t hiding it anymore, either. And from the way fans’ excited chatter filled the air, it seemed they couldn’t be happier to finally see you together.

Taglist: @bakingpiastries @linnygirl09

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echo-riot · 14 hours ago

Note

jealous ambessa x gf reader. ambessa treats reader rude & cold because of jealousy and the reader doesn't understand why and gets sad. thanks :3

✞⛧ The Storm Beneath (Ambessa X Reader) ✞⛧

Warnings: Emotional tension and miscommunication, Angst with a comforting resolution.

Ambessa Medarda was a woman of great composure. A Noxian General, a tactician, and a force of nature who could command a battlefield without breaking a sweat. But in the confines of your shared life, that composure seemed to crumble whenever a particular emotion clawed its way to the surface: jealousy.

At first, you didn’t notice. Ambessa had always been a little reserved with her affection in public, her sharp eyes constantly scanning the room, calculating. So when her demeanor toward you shifted from warmth to something cold and curt, you chalked it up to her having a bad day.

“Are you all right?” you asked her one evening as she sat at the dining table, her focus locked on the drink in her hand instead of you.

“I’m fine,” she replied, her tone clipped.

You frowned, tilting your head. “Are you sure? You’ve been distant lately.”

Her golden eyes flicked to you, unreadable and sharp. “Not everything is about you,” she said flatly before rising from the table and leaving the room without another word.

The sting of her words settled deep in your chest. Ambessa was never one for flowery declarations of love, but she’d always treated you with respect, even in moments of frustration. This coldness was new, and you couldn’t understand where it was coming from.

The days that followed were no better. Conversations were short and strained, her responses curt and dismissive. When you reached for her hand, she would pull away under the guise of being “busy.” The distance between you grew, and no matter how hard you tried to bridge it, she seemed determined to keep you at arm’s length.

One evening, after yet another cold interaction, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Ambessa, what is going on with you?”

She barely looked up from the papers she was reading, her expression impassive. “Nothing is going on.”

“That’s a lie,” you said, your voice trembling with frustration. “You’ve been cold, distant, and—frankly—rude. Did I do something to upset you? If I did, just tell me.”

Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought she might actually answer. But instead, she stood, gathering her papers. “I don’t have time for this.”

And just like that, she walked away, leaving you standing in the middle of the room, your heart sinking under the weight of her indifference.

The breaking point came a week later. You were out at a gathering, one of Ambessa’s political obligations that she insisted you accompany her to. The room was filled with important faces and hushed conversations, but you couldn’t shake the tension radiating from your partner.

You’d been speaking with a diplomat—a kind, older gentleman who’d taken an interest in your thoughts on trade routes. The conversation was light and pleasant, and for a moment, you felt at ease.

But when you turned to find Ambessa, her expression was like thunderclouds. She was watching you from across the room, her jaw clenched, her hand gripping her glass tightly.

When you approached her, the frost in her gaze sent a chill down your spine. “Having fun?” she asked, her tone laced with sarcasm.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, frowning.

She shrugged, her lips curling into a humorless smile. “You seemed rather engrossed in your conversation. Didn’t want to interrupt.”

The insinuation in her words hit you like a slap. “Are you… jealous?”

Ambessa scoffed, her voice low and venomous. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Her words cut deep, and for the first time in your relationship, you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t understand what I’ve done to make you treat me like this,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Ambessa didn’t respond. Instead, she turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, feeling small and hurt in a room full of strangers.

The drive home was silent. Ambessa sat rigidly in the driver’s seat, her hands gripping the wheel tightly. You stared out the window, your reflection a pale ghost against the dark glass.

When you arrived home, you couldn’t take it anymore. As soon as the door closed behind you, you turned to her. “Why are you doing this?”

She froze, her back to you. “Doing what?”

“This,” you said, gesturing helplessly. “Being cold, distant, and—” Your voice cracked. “And making me feel like I’m not enough for you.”

Ambessa turned slowly, her expression a mix of anger and something else—something softer, almost vulnerable. “You think you’re not enough for me?”

“What else am I supposed to think?” you said, tears streaming down your face now. “You’ve been treating me like I’m a burden, like I’m not worth your time. I don’t understand why.”

For a moment, she just stood there, her broad shoulders tense, her hands clenched at her sides. Then she let out a long, shaky breath and ran a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice low and rough

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden apology. “What?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, her golden eyes meeting yours. “I’ve been unfair to you.”

“Why?” you asked, your voice trembling. “Why have you been acting like this?”

Ambessa hesitated, the unshakable general suddenly looking unsure of herself. “Because I was jealous,” she admitted finally.

Your heart twisted at the admission. “Jealous? Of what?”

“Of the way people look at you,” she said, her voice tight. “The way they talk to you, like they’re trying to steal you away from me. I know it’s irrational, but I couldn’t stop it. And instead of talking to you about it, I… lashed out.”

You stared at her, the weight of her words sinking in. “Ambessa, no one could ever take me away from you,” you said softly. “I love you. Only you.”

Her shoulders sagged, and for the first time in weeks, the tension seemed to leave her body. “I know,” she said, stepping closer. “But I let my fear get the better of me. And in doing so, I hurt you. That’s the last thing I ever wanted.”

You reached for her, your hands resting on her chest as you looked up into her eyes. “I just want you to talk to me,” you said. “Don’t push me away when you’re feeling like that. I want to help you, not fight with you.”

Ambessa’s hands came up to cup your face, her thumbs brushing away the tears on your cheeks. “I promise,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll do better. I’ll talk to you next time. No more walls.”

You nodded, leaning into her touch. “Good. Because I can’t stand this distance between us.”

She pulled you into her arms, holding you tightly as if she could physically erase the pain she’d caused. “Neither can I,” she murmured into your hair.

For the first time in weeks, you felt like you had your Ambessa back—the strong, steady presence who loved you fiercely, even if she didn’t always know how to show it. And as you stood there, wrapped in her arms, you knew that whatever storms came your way, you’d weather them together.

#ambessa league of legends #lol ambessa #ambessa headcanons #ambessa x you #ambessa x reader #arcane ambessa #ambessa arcane #ambessa medarda #ambessa medarda x reader #amazing body #arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane x reader

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revelboo · 11 hours ago

Note

I’m officially addicted to your fics. May I request an update to TFP Shockwave’s story? 💜

Sure!

Point of Extinction Pt 11

TFP Shockwave x Reader

• Head lifting guiltily from where you’re absolutely not doodling stick figure Shockwaves that are pretty much a cube head with rabbit ears, a rectangle for his giant mech-tit-whatever it is he has going on there, and stick legs. And his antenna go back the second he spots you, pointedly looking everywhere but at you. Which, considering his default mode is staring for an uncomfortably long time and barely speaking, put you on edge. “Everything okay?” And how do you erase the screen? Especially now that you’re realizing his cannon doesn’t actually look like a cannon. Why had you drawn it like that? At a loss, you sit on the screen.

• Everything is needlessly complicated now. Not okay as you put it. Because Megatron had been playing with his human and hadn’t bothered to stop when he’d tried to report his research findings. And he keeps thinking about it against his will. About the sounds that human had made, the way they’d moved against Megatron’s servo. Wondering what sounds you’d make. “Thirteen, do you interface for pleasure or only to breed?” He asks and your little mouth falls open. Making him suspect he’s been neglecting your needs.

• What? There’s no understanding how his weird processor works, but that’s the last question you expected. And wary of him misunderstanding any way you answer him, your eyes narrow as his head tips, antenna still back. “Why do you want to know?” Because no matter what led him to that question, you’re probably not going to like it. What’s going on in that head of his? ‘Could provide a human to interface with if required for-’ Lurching to your feet in alarm, because you don’t want him kidnapping some random person thinking you need a fuck buddy to be happy. “No!” Antennae flicking, he begins tapping his cannon against a thigh in agitation. “No, we don’t do that with strangers, okay? We need to know someone, trust them.”

• Ah. Intimacy only with trusted individuals and that eases tension he hadn’t even realized was bracketing his frame. Realizing he didn’t want you to agree or to have to watch you couple with someone else. “Understood,” he rumbles, reaching to touch a servo to your soft head. He’s not had need for a holoform before, so he’ll need to format one. Or perhaps mass shift. Shouldn’t be curious at all about how you’d feel wrapped around his spike. Servo shifting to tip your chin up, that warmth he can’t quite pin down spreads through him when you lay a soft hand on him. “I will tend to your needs, then.”

• What now? “No,” you blurt and his antenna go back. “What I mean is thank you for the um, very kind offer.” He’s just staring at you. How does he even think that would work? “But I’m good.” Sometimes you really hate his lack of face, you’re pretty sure you’re probably offending him, though. And you don’t even care about the stick figure with the dick cannon, because this is so much worse. He’s so damn serious about it, head tipping like he does when you swear he’s thinking about dissecting you. “I promise I’ll keep it in mind, though,” you add weakly.

#transformers x reader #shockwave x reader #tfp shockwave

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absolutebl · 1 day ago

Text

This Week in BL - There's 3 Good Shows Holding a Ton of BL Cr*p on their Shoulders

Organized, in each category, with ones I'm enjoying most at the top.

Jan 2025 Week 4

Ongoing Series - Thai

Your Sky (Sun iQIYI) ep 10 of 12 - So darn adorable1 I love the whole shopping trip thing: Mom out with the gay boys is great.

GIVE ME MOAR OF LEE AND HIS PHI. Pretty please?

ThamePo (Fri YT) ep 7 of 12 - I love the way Thame is basically like, in my head we are totally dating and acts that way with Po. Yet he hasn't actually discussed it with the poor man. Thame is such a pouty babygirl. Jun is a little shit. All in all, this installment was a little slow but I remain charmed.

The Boy Next World (Sun IQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - I’m actually quite enjoying this. I really do just wanna spend most of my time with this pair watching them kiss (please don't make Noeul act mmm'kay?). So I’m really glad we’re on episode three and the show seems invested in supplying us with kisses already. Thank goodness.

The Heart Killers (Weds Gaga) ep 9 of 12 - mostly I just feel sorry for Fadel. boy is so tired of everybody else’s gay drama queening.

Perfect 10 Liners (Sun YT) ep 13 of 24 - I actually like how they are portraying Yotha’s character in this (with relation to his mother). It’s pretty authentic to that kind of situation and personality type, I enjoy that. I also like that Wa dumped Klao for being too jealous. good healthy decision, should have stayed that way.

Sangmin Dinneaw (Sun iQIYI) ep 4 of 10 - it just keeps moving through absurdist and ridiculous to gratuitously sexual to mind numbingly dull. I never know where I am with this show. At least it’s not boring... until it so much is. Also my cancer danger signaling is going off hard core. Beware.

I'm like one of those dogs that can sense and epileptic fit, only for death in BL.

Flirt Milk (Sat YT) ep 1 or 10 - Star hunter is back this time with terrible facial hair. I’m putting it on the no fly list right up there with wigs. Apparently Thailand and fake hair are mutually exclusive. The lead ingenue looks a little bit like Yim, and I think they mean to give him a similar personality to Yim’s usual characters, but frankly I found him insipid, dim, and boring. Literally every other surrounding character and couple-to-be is more interesting than the mains. The linguistic bit was cute tho.

Ossan‘s Love Thailand (Mon YouTube) ep 3 of 12 - heavy sigh.

Fourever You (Thurs YT) ep 17 end? - supposedly still coming

Ongoing Series - Not Thai

When it Rains it Pours (Japan Thurs Gaga) ep 2-3 of 10 - I’m enjoying these second 2 eps a lot better than the first ep. It’s leaning into the premise and I like a quazi Cyrano de Bergerac thing. It’s got that chewy Japanese “who knows where this is going?” seasoning. But one thing we can be sure of is Japan can always veer sideways given the right pothole. Or should I say plothole? Anygay, I like the way they’re different with each other via text than in person, I like that we’ve already had some language discussion and negotiation, I like the cool banter between these men. And they are men. I like how very adult this is. I’m interested to see where it’s going. Color me suitably intrigued, in a refined manner.

Eternal Butler (Taiwan Fri Gaga) eps 7 of 12 - Ooo I love the side couple!!!! They are soooooo cute. Kissing to seal a debt? Adorable. Also, yes please keep Ever 4 shirtless forever. I applaud his design, functionality, ans aesthetic choice. Rah rah rah. More manual labor in BL! Pun intended.

Impression of Youth (Taiwan Weds Viki) eps 3 of 9 - I like the secondary couple a lot more than the primary. Shocker.

Teenager Judge (Vietnam Sat YT) ep 16 of ?? - I bit the bullet and finally watched the 2 parts. It really did not need to occupy that much of my time. I did watch it on 1.5, which is not normally what I do with foreign language shows, but I’ve lost patience with this damn thing. I didn’t actually mind the student teacher side pairing, I didn’t like it either. I thought this was the final episode, and then I saw that there was an 2 part ep 17 announced. So i guess not. Have mercy.

Oh yeah and trigger warning all round.

It's airing but......

I Will Turn Back Time (China Gaga) 6 eps - It’s Chinese, no idea if it will end well or not. But it’s the stepbrothers trope. Still, I’m not gonna watch it until it’s done.

Winter Is Not The Death of Summer (Thai) - It's done. Did anyway watch it? Thoughts?

In Case You Missed it

End of year wraps are here!

2024 Trend Report

MY BEST & WORST BLs of 2024

Best Kisses (and sex scenes) of 2024

BL's 2024 Quirky Awards

2024 Awards - Quick Picks

Next Week Looks Like This:

2025 Line Up

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 1

BL Announced for 2025 - PART 2

20 BLs Announced for 2025 That I'm Really Excited About

GMMTV 2025 Line Up - My Totally Biased and Wildly Flawed Feels

THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENT

Love a lift and kiss. Show me your muscles by picking another boy up and smooching him silly. (Your Sky)

(last week)

The tag BLigade: @doorajar @solitaryandwandering @my-rose-tinted-glasses @babymbbatinygirl @babymbbatinygirl @isisanna-blog @mmastertheone @pickletrip @aliceisathome @urikawa-miyuki @tokillamonger @sunflower-positiiivity @rocketturtle4 @blglplus @anythinggoesintheshire @everlightly @renafire @mestizashinrin @bl-bam-beyond @small-dark-and-delicious @saezurumurmurs

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gothamite-rambler · 20 hours ago

Text

Dick, Roy, Donna, and Kara were locked in a room, each waiting for their partners to rescue them. Kara was feeling the effects of kryptonite, leaving her too weak to break them out.

Dick sat on the floor, idly circling his finger in the dust. The tension in the room lingered as they each contemplated their situation.

Dick: While we wait to be rescued, I have a confession… I don’t actually think Batman is that smart.

Roy: Wait, what?

Dick: Sorry, I just had to get that off my chest. It's just... He thinks he can do everything on his own, but he really can’t.

Donna: Why are you confessing this now?

Dick: Because he’s my father and I grew up with him. I’m bored, and honestly, I’m frustrated by how long it’s taking him to save us. He’s an egotistical, blunt, traumatized guy who acts like he knows it all, but he doesn’t.

Roy: Um, can he—

Kara (raising her hand while lounging on the floor): Hold on, let him cook.

Dick: This guy has contingency plans for every hero out there but refuses to call them friends. He can’t maintain a relationship; I’m shocked he’s still with Selina. And for a master detective, he sure doesn’t seem to realize that gas station condoms or the pull-out method aren’t exactly foolproof!

Roy (interested now): Keep going.

Dick: He always has to insist on being right.

Donna and Kara: What? No.

Roy: No, I get what he’s saying.

Dick: He’s so difficult! He still refuses to admit that Phil Collins "In the Air Tonight" isn't about a drowning man! I’ll give him credit; he knows how to apologize when he’s wrong, he just sucks at always doing it. I grew up with that man in his twenties. I’ve seen all his mistakes. If it weren’t for Alfred, Jim, and honestly me, he’d be a complete train wreck—

Just then, Batman kicked open the door, clearly having overheard the entire conversation. Roy covered his mouth to stifle a laugh. Dick waved nonchalantly, unfazed.

Dick: Hey, Papa! You made it... five hours later.

Batman (enraged): You… You... You are grounded! Grounded until... next month!

Dick pouted.

Kara: He’s an adult!

Dick: I mean, he can ground me. Totally worth it.

Batman grabbed Dick by the leg and started dragging him out, but Dick didn’t seem to mind, arms still crossed and a grin on his face.

Dick: I want McDonald’s!

Batman: No!

Dick (whining): I want McDonald’s!

Batman: Fine, but you’re still grounded.

Superman, Wonder Woman, and Green Arrow watched the father-son argue for a moment, then turned to their respective family members.

Roy: Can you ground us?

Green Arrow (sighing): No. Just walk to the car.

Roy followed Green Arrow out while Donna linked arms with Wonder Woman and left alongside her. Meanwhile, Kara lifted her leg in front of Superman.

Superman: The effects of the kryptonite wore off.

Kara: Do it, or I’ll spill the beans about that Christmas party.

Superman (groaning): Fine.

He grabbed her leg and began dragging her along the smooth floor.

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the-psychopathist · 1 day ago

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Is Agatha Harkness a sociopath?

I wanted to make this post ever since I finished Agatha All Along, specifically after Agatha was referred to as a “sociopath” in the series. Now, “sociopath” is not an actual diagnosis and most of the time, what people refer to when it comes to sociopathy and psychopathy is actually anti-social personality disorder (ASPD). In this post, I’ll attempt to “diagnose” Agatha with ASPD and see if she fits the criteria for a diagnosis.

Disclaimer: I am not a professional, I’m only “diagnosing” Agatha because she’s a fictional character. Do not attempt to do the same for any real person. This post isn’t meant to stigmatize any real person with that condition, this is simply a character study. None of what I’m writing should be used in a real-life context.

1) Failure to obey laws and norms by engaging in behavior which results in criminal arrest, or would warrant criminal arrest

Agatha is quite literally a serial killer. She has been luring witches to their early graves for centuries. We don't know exactly how many people she has killed, but her body count is definitely quite large. I don't think she was ever arrested for her crimes but it definitely warrants a criminal arrest. If it wasn't for Wanda trapping her in the Agnes persona at the end of WandaVision, she would have most likely been arrested, especially since she attempted to kill multiple S.W.O.R.D. soldiers.

2) Deceitfulness, indicated by continuously lying, using aliases, or conning others for personal gain and pleasure.

This one is a given. Her primary means to steal magic was through a con. She deceived and manipulated unsuspecting witches who trusted her with the intent of stealing their magic and killing them. And even before that, she used her own son to lure witches and do the same. She does it primarily for profit, to get more magic, but she does seem to genuinely enjoy deceiving others and gaining pleasure out of it.

In both WV and AAA she was lying, deceiving and manipulating the rest of the cast from the very beginning for her own benefit. She infiltrated Wanda’s hex and posed as her nosy neighbour “Agnes”, graining Wanda's trust with the intent of stealing her magic from the start. She did it primarily for profit but there was also some enjoyment for her when she revealed the truth to Wanda, so much so that she created her own intro song. She was enjoying putting up a show almost as much as getting Wanda's magic.

This pattern of behaviors is seen throughout AAA too, especially upon rewatch. On your first watch, you might not notice but after rewatching a second time fully knowing the end, you can notice how much Agatha has been lying the entire time. Not only did she lie about the road and always intended to murder the cover in her basement, but when the hex road appeared she kept the lie that she went to the road before going. One could say that she had to keep the lie going because she never intended for the road to appear, so those weren’t lies she intended to tell, but at the same time, we can see how easily she can lie and deceive others. She knew all along that Billy created the road and that said road was deadly, yet made no attempt at stopping him. She knew people would die but she kept the lie going because she hoped that she could get back her powers at the end. So she lied, deceived and manipulated the group the entire time for her own gain.

3) Exhibiting impulsivity or failing to plan ahead.

Agatha is someone who likes to be in control, and does give off the illusion of being in control. But the truth is, she isn’t as much in control as she thinks she is, and is quite impulsive. Lots of her shortcomings are a direct consequence of an impulsive decision (fuck around and find out). Being impulsive doesn’t mean she can’t make elaborate schemes, because she sure does. But a lot of those are made impulsively. She sensed Wanda’s magic and decided to join her hex without knowing exactly how Wanda’s magic worked. She even started messing with her without knowing how Wanda’s magic would respond. Then in AAA we see more of her impulsive nature. She doesn’t think through whenever she makes a decision and ends up needing to improvise in order to compensate for her reckless decisions. She told Lilia about how her ability to steal magic worked, she picked a bound witch to be part of her coven, as well as a non-magical woman. The only one in the group that seemed to have the ability to blast was Alice. Not the greatest group if she needed to steal as much magic as possible. On the road, she made a lot of impulsive decisions that were quite reckless, like attempting to break the window and throwing her wine glass during the first trial, suggesting to summon another green witch, pretending to be possessed by Sharon, or messing with the tarot cards. There’s also the way she provoked Billy right after he nearly killed her. Those were all decisions she took without thinking about the consequences, out of impulsivity. But she’s not only impulsive when it comes to being reckless with others’ safety. She was also shown to be impulsive when it comes to helping some of her coven members. When Rio first emerged from Sharon’s grave, Agatha’s first instinct was to get in front of the coven as if she wanted to protect them. When Billy got thrown into the window, Agatha rushed to go check on him, or when Lilia was about to get impaled she jumped to push her out of the sword’s trajectory.

4) Irritability and aggressiveness, indicated by repeatedly getting into fights or physically assaulting others.

Once again, this one is a given. Agatha is easily irritated and very aggressive, she’s quick to anger, losing her patience and snapping at people. She had no issue hurting Wanda when she had her captive in her basement, slamming her against the wall when she got irritated with her. I’d argue that the mass murdering she did over centuries also count as frequent assaults. She’s also quick to engage in physical fights with Rio (although those are mutual on both sides), and there was a moment at the end of episode 3 where Agatha randomly kicked Jen when she was already down after they all went through the water slide.

5) Reckless behaviors that disregard the safety of others.

Agatha did not care how her actions affected the resident of Westview when she was purposefully messing around with the hex. She did not care either on the road. She knew from the beginning that it was a hex and even after seeing they could actually die in the trials, she made no attempt to try telling the others the road was fake. She could have tried to let Billy know he made the road but she didn’t. Because she didn’t care if some of them might die. She had no concern for their safety. She endangered the coven in the first trial by trying to break the window and by refusing to drink the wine. She did so too in the third trial by pretending to be possessed, making the group lose precious time. Same with the fourth trial by messing with the tarot cards and not stopping even when the swords were dangerous dropping on both her and Billy.

6) A pattern of irresponsibility

This is probably the only criteria I’m not sure would apply. There are instances of Agatha being irresponsible, but I don’t think we have seen enough of her personal life to establish a pattern. So until further notice, I’ll consider this criteria doesn’t particularly fit.

7) Lack of remorse after hurting or mistreating another person.

Agatha does not seem to have any remorse for all the people she murdered. She may have some remorse regarding her original coven, including her mother, but that was a much younger Agatha. The Agatha we know now does not seem to feel bad for the people she had killed for centuries. It’s even something she will be really flippant about whenever she talks about how many people she has killed.

She didn’t feel remorse when Sharon died either. Agatha might not have directly killed her, she is still responsible for her death by recruiting her into the coven. And it’s not like Agatha didn’t intend from the start to put Sharon in harm’s way. If her initial intention was to kill the coven, it’s very likely she would have killed Sharon too, or Sharon would have been killed by the Salem Seven. Billy may be indirectly responsible for Sharon’s death because he created the road, he was not aware of that nor did he intend for this to happen. Agatha on the other hand always intended for Sharon to die and did not feel bad when she actually did die. She acted extremely callous after Sharon’s death and never bothered to learn her name, even forgetting who she was later on.

And it’s not just about murder. She didn’t feel bad when she got Alice fired, nor did she feel bad when she learned she was the person who got Jen bound for a hundred years. She didn’t feel bad either about attempting to kill the coven from the beginning and had no qualms about using them to get to the end of the road even if it meant sacrificing them.

The coven’s members aren’t the only people who suffer because of Agatha’s actions. If we go back to WandaVision, Agatha orchestrated Sparky’s death. And she seemed pretty proud about causing a dog to die. It may have been revealed in AAA that Ralph poisoned the dog, but it was under Agatha’s order. He was under her magical control, so the blame is entirely on her. She did not feel bad at all for killing a dog. Speaking of Ralph, as much as his character is played for laughs, what she did to him was also pretty atrocious. She took control of his life, stole his house, and forced him to commit awful acts, causing psychological damage to him to the point he is completely paranoid now. It’s unlikely Agatha knows how Ralph ended up after what she did to him, I highly doubt she’d feel an ounce of remorse for that.

Now, lack of remorse does not mean lack of regrets. Agatha does not feel bad for hurting others and how her actions affected them, but she does have regrets. She does feel bad if her actions negatively affect her, like personal loss or missed opportunity. She did seem to feel regret about killing Alice, but I don’t think she felt remorse. She did not feel bad for Alice, she felt bad because of the consequences she had to face after. She did not intend to kill Alice at that time, and now she has lost any potential trust she could gain from the coven. Not only that, we know Agatha became a ghost because she couldn’t face Nicky in the afterlife, so the regret might also be that she thought her son had seen her kill Alice. I don’t think she felt remorse for what she did to Jen either. When Jen did the unbinding ritual, getting told over and over that she “holds nothing” worked on Agatha possibly because deep down, Agatha knew it was true. She no longer has her son, she has no magic, and she has driven away Rio. She did hold nothing anymore.

Having ASPD does not mean Agatha is incapable of love, or caring about others. She undoubtedly loved and cared about her son. So much so that she developed a soft spot for Billy because he reminded her of Nicky. She loved Rio too. Same for her pet rabbit. Unlike popular belief, lack of empathy is not a criteria for ASPD. It does usually result in low empathy, and that can vary from person to person. Agatha probably has little to no empathy for most people except the rare people she does manage to bond with. You can see it as a selective empathy for those she did love and care about, which included Nicky, Rio, Señor Scratchy and later possibly Billy.

If Agatha does have ASPD, how did it start? Even if sometimes genetics can play a role in developing that personality disorder, you aren’t born with it. Most of the time, it’s caused by the environment, mostly trauma experienced as a child. We know Agatha’s mother hated her. She thought she was born evil. She, with her coven, attempted to have her executed when Agatha was only 18. I do believe the accusations made at her were mostly true. She probably did steal knowledge and practiced dark magic. But Agatha did beg her coven to teach her, so I think it’s very likely that since her mother thought she was born evil, she didn’t allow Agatha to properly learn magic. If Agatha wasn’t taught magic and had this power she couldn’t control (siphoning), it’s not surprising that she would have to steal knowledge in order to learn. Agatha learned from a young age to break the rules in order to get what she wants or needs. And without proper guidance, it’s reasonable to think she might have practiced dark magic.

So yes, even if the accusations were true, her coven and mother are not blameless. Agatha is the way she is because of how she was raised, how she was treated as a child and growing up, and what she had to do in order to learn magic. She never had a healthy support system growing up, there was no possibility for therapy at that time, she was a witch living in the worst era for her kind, and she couldn’t even rely on her fellow witches to protect herself. After accidentally killing her original coven (including her own mother), which was definitely a traumatic event for her regardless if it was self-defence, she kept doing what she did so far to survive; steal, lie, deceive, kill. All the antisocial traits she exhibits as an adult are learned behaviours. Of course, it does not justify her crimes and horrific actions she later committed, but it does explain why she is that way. She wasn’t born evil, she became evil. She’s the product of her environment, experiences, circumstances and era.

#agatha all along #agatha harkness #marvel #mcu #analysis #theory #armchair psychology #antisocial personality disorder #anti-social personality disorder #aspd #sociopath #sociopathy

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obvithe-bestsoph · 2 days ago

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No. 01 | "It’s always nights like this that I feel the loneliest" HF32

masterlist requests

prompt list (if you request a prompt, please request a player for it as well!) warnings: mentions of make-outs, mentions of hickeys.

This week was gonna be hard. You knew that. More specifically, it was going to be hard because Héctor was away in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia with the team for the final rounds of the Supercopa tournament. Yes, you’re flying there to watch them in the final, but that’s still a few days away. Usually, you’re perfectly fine when Héctor goes away, because he’s constantly away, whether it be for Barca, the national team, or anything else. Of course, you miss falling asleep with his arms around you, and you miss being woken up by him sprinkling kisses across your face, but that just makes him coming home even better. However, for some reason, this time, you’re missing him far more than usual.

It’s 4am, and you’ve been tossing and turning since 11pm, unable to sleep. You’ve already switched your pillow out for Héctor’s and have watched some of his interviews (maybe some edits too), but you just need him. His touch, his smell, his voice. Just him. You know Jeddah is 2 hours ahead of Barcelona, meaning it’s sometime around 6am there, and Héctor is usually awake by then, just laying in bed scrolling on his phone until about 9 when he actually needs to get up, so you FaceTime him.

When he answers, you’re greeted with a rather upclose view of your man’s face, illuminated only by his phone screen, similar to you.

“Hola, mi corazón. ¿Está todo bien (hello, my heart. is everything okay)?” his croaky voice greets you. Just hearing his voice brings a slight smile to your face. “Hola, everything’s fine, I just wanted to talk to you is all.” he frowns slightly. “You sure? You’re feeling okay and all that?” there was concern creeping into his tone. “I promise, mi amor. It’s nothing like that. I just wish you were here.” you sigh slightly, shifting again. “Well, it’s only, what… 3, 4 days until your flight here? We’ll be together again soon. My parents are here, they keep asking when you’ll get here as well.” he smiles a little, you smile too. “I know, not long now. I don’t know why I feel like this today. I never have a problem with you leaving, it just… feels longer than usual.” “Well, maybe it’s just because you’re so whipped for me that you barely even function when I’m not there…” he suggests with a teasing grin, you laugh. “Cállate, idiota. You wish. (shut up, idiot)” “Just saying, it’s a high possibility.” You sigh and your face goes back to it’s previous slightly more negative expression from before. “I just- it’s always nights like this that I feel the loneliest, like, I’m talking to you, but it’s almost like teasing because I can’t feel your arms around me or your lips or smell your cologne. I dunno… it’s just… lonely. I miss you.” Héctor’s expression turns more sympathetic, and he furrows his eyebrows a bit. “Well, I miss you too, more than anything, but seriously, you carry a piece of my heart with you everywhere, mi amor. I’m always there in someway, even if you aren’t thinking about it.” You just about cry at his sweet words. “I love you. So much.” “I love you too, mi bebé.” “You know how I said that you always have a piece of me with you?” you watch as that familiar smirk starts to grow on his face. “Yeah?” you raise a suspicious and slightly skeptical eyebrow. “That hickey on your neck faded yet?” his smirk is full-blown now. You blush and roll your eyes, but mumble a faint, “No.” “See? Always with you.” he says proudly, as if proving his point. “What are you doing tomorrow? I wanna bring your flight forward so I can give you more. You’d be all good to hang with my parents for a few days while I’m training, right?” “I’m meeting my mama in the morning, so I could fly out tomorrow afternoon?” “Perfect. Now get some sleep, mi amor (my love), and I’ll see you tomorrow night, yeah?” “Mkay, bebé. Love you.” you blow him a kiss. “Love you too, text me once you get to the airport and I’ll send an Uber.” he blows a kiss back, and you hang up the phone, now able to finally fall asleep, your face buried in his pillow, still able to smell some of his hair products and aftershave on it.

The next day, as soon as you step off the plane you’re hit in the face with humidity, but don’t really care as it’s only a short amount of time until you can see Héctor again. You make your way through the airport and find the Uber that Héctor organised for you.

It’s only about 15 or 20 minutes before you’re dropped outside the team’s hotel, it’s starting to get dark now, around 8pm, having left Barcelona around 3. You find his room number and knock on the door, you wait a moment, hearing him quickly scramble out of bed or something from somewhere, a clatter, a muttered “mierda” then the sound of things moving around, and finally, the doors opens to reveal the clumsy man that is your boyfriend.

You raise an amused eyebrow and chuckle slightly. “What was all that about?” “Oh… I er- possibly may have knocked over a couple things, but that’s beside the point.” he says, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. You laugh and walk into the room, it’s a nice room, you figured it would be, considering the outside was nice too. Unfortunately for Héctor, the man who loves to be alone, has a roommate. There, on the other side of the room, lying on the other bed in the suite, watching his phone, is Pau Cubarsí.

You chuckle, and he looks up. “Hola, Pau (hello, pau.).” He smiles back at you, as he always does. “Hola. M'alegro que siguis aquí, l'Hèctor no ha callat per tu des d'aquest matí. (hello. i’m glad you’re here, héctor hasn’t shut up about you since this morning.)” You laugh and put down your small suitcase joining Héctor next to him on his bed. You guys just lay together for a bit, before Pau hauls himself off the bed and announces that he’s gonna go find Lamine, meaning you two are left alone in the room.

After you hear the door click shut, the make-out more or less immediately starts, and only stops when your neck looks like it’s been mauled by a dog, Héctor’s red and panting, scratches up and down his back, a few hickeys on his own neck, and Cubarsí comes back in. He snorts and flops back down onto his bed.

“Veig que vosaltres dos no heu tingut problemes per trobar alguna cosa a fer mentre jo estava fora. (i see you two had no trouble finding something to do while i was away.)”

“Shush, germà. Només estàs odiant perquè estàs solter (shush bro, you’re just hating because you’re single).” Héctor retorts, pulling you closer to him from the waist, your back against his front. “Per elecció (by choice),” Pau adds on to that, teasingly, “Tinc moltes opcions si volia una noia. Però a diferència d'altres, prefereixo centrar-me en el meu futbol, en lloc de ser assotat per la meva xicota. (i have many options if I wanted a girl. but unlike others, I prefer to focus on my football, instead of being whipped by my girlfriend.)” Héctor rolls his eyes and mutters back, “El que sigui (whatever).”

You drift off not long after to the feeling of Héctor’s arm around you and his fingers scratching through your hair.

Pau watches for a few moments before quietly murmuring, “Estàs abatut dolent, (you’re down bad.)” with a soft smile. Héctor smiles back at him and gives him a quiet, but proud and genuine, “Sí, sí que ho sóc (yeah, yeah i am.).”

#hector fort #hector fort fic #obvithebestsoph!hectorfort #hector fort x reader #fc barcelona #fanfiction #football #football fic #culer #teenage romance #HF32

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fxgslxvehouse · 2 days ago

Text

Carey listened to the escort with a bit of an amused look on his face. “Relax, I’m not one of those annoying clients.” He imagined there was a few desperate and eager men that tried to cut corners to get to Felix. “Plus, I respect your hustle.” Of course, it was easy for Carey to say since he had all of Daddy’s money to spend. “I just want your number to send you that photo, you know, in case I decide to obey…” A slight flirtiness in his tone of voice, referencing the man’s order to send him a picture of his abs full of cum.

He watched the man until he was out of view. Then proceeded to shower, keeping the plug inside himself. He couldn't hold back any longer, and he jerked off in the shower. Desperate to cum again, this time actually stroking his dick to get the orgasm.

He spent the night at the hotel, and eventually left the room to go back to the frat house. He found it was easy to wear the plug with pants, if he turned the tail inward, tucking it between his legs. It was still very visible, and not so easy to drive with it on, but he made it back to the frat house.

Covering his backside with a jacket, to make sure no one saw him. He hurried to his room, so he could actually do what the man ordered. He was easily horny again, and started fucking himself with the plug. Riding it, then pushing back against a wall, eventually just laying down and using his hand to push it in and out. That was the best for him. Easily coming all over his abs as instructed. He took a few pictures and sent them to Felix with a brief message. He didn't expect much of a response. Carey understood what this was, and he was okay with that.

The End

Felix put his number in. "Just remember you have to contact the agency to buy to my time. There are only a few circumstances under which I'd do anything without them. And unless you want to actually, seriously date me, those won't come up." He winked at the man as he added, "But do get in touch. I want to see you again, Puppy." With that, he was gone.

#felix2 and carey sunsrpmuses #Snapchat!

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cutesyaddy · 2 days ago

Text

from foes to forever

Part Four

Min Ho x Reader

a/n: hope you like this chapter, don’t know exactly what i was going for but hey, i’ll figure it out 🤪.

summary(?): With walls slowly starting to crack, one thing becomes clear—neither (y/n) or Min Ho are quite as unaffected as they pretend to be.

————————————————————

The library door creaked when I pushed it open, cold air following me inside.

My bag was full of books, and there was a migraine pulsing on the right side of my head.

After yesterday's surprisingly productive session with Min Ho, I figured today would be an easy continuation.

That was before I spotted him on the far end of the room, sitting by the window with his laptop open and a scowl carved into his face.

great. He’s already in a mood.

I walked over to the table, and as soon as I sat down, his eyes flicked up to meet mine.

“you’re late,” he said flatly, his fingers now drumming on the table.

“By, like, what? five minutes?” I muttered, unzipping my bag. “Don’t get your panties in a twist; I’m here now.”

Min Ho leant back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Five minutes we could’ve used. I don’t have all day, you know.”

I paused, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? big plans? Let me guess, crushing someone’s hopes and dreams before dinner?”

He snorted, but there wasn’t much humour in it. “Something like that.”

The biting retort I’d prepared fizzled out as I caught the faint tension in his voice.

Something was off. his usual smirk wasn’t as sharp, and his eyes seemed…. distracted.

“Are you okay?” I blurted out before I could stop myself.

his face snapped to mine, confused, before narrowing. “What are you, my therapist? Let’s just focus on the project.”

I hesitated, then shrugged it off. “fine. Whatever you say, partner.

I pulled out my notebook and flipped to the page of notes I’d taken the night before. “So, I looked into that study you mentioned. the one about conflict communication? Turns out it’s actually useful. Who knew you had decent ideas?”

“Glad you’re finally catching on,” he muttered, but his voice lacked his usual sting.

I frowned, watching as he scribbled something in his notebook with a little too much force. Whatever was going on with him, it wasn’t just about me being five minutes late.

and then, as if to prove my point, he abruptly shut his notebook and stood up.

“Uh, hey,” I said, startled. “Where are you going?” “coffee,” he said shortly, already walking towards the door.

“Do you want one or not?” I blinked, confused by the sudden shift. “Uh… sure?”

‘coffee? Since when does Min Ho do anything remotely thoughtful?’ I didn’t know whether to be suspicious or impressed.

Without another word, he disappeared through the doors, leaving me alone at the table, wondering what had just happened.

—————————

Min Ho returned a few minutes later, two steaming cups of coffee in hand.

He slid one across the table, his fingers lingering just slightly on the edge before pulling back. The usual cocky energy was still there, but muted—like he was somewhere else entirely.

“Thanks,” I said, watching him carefully as I wrapped my hands around the warm cup.

He didn’t respond, just sipped his coffee while staring out the window. The sunlight caught on his jawline, making the tension in his posture more obvious.

“So... you going to tell me what’s eating you?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual but unable to mask the curiosity in my voice.

He glanced at me, his dark eyes sharp. “Why do you care?”

I shrugged, pretending his gaze wasn’t making my pulse flutter.

“I don’t know. Maybe because you’re acting weird, and I don’t want it to mess up our project.”

“Of course. It’s about the project,” he said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

I frowned, annoyed that he could still get under my skin so easily.

“What else would it be about?”

He leant forward then, the smirk fading into something softer—something that made my breath hitch. “You tell me.”

The air between us felt heavier, charged with something unspoken. I swallowed hard, gripping my coffee cup like it was the only thing tethering me to reality.

“Look,” I said, my voice quieter now, “if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. But you don’t have to shut me out completely.”

Min Ho’s gaze didn’t waver, and for a moment, I thought he might actually open up. But instead, he gave a low chuckle, leaning back in his chair.

“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” he said, tilting his head as if studying me. “Most people don’t bother trying to figure me out.”

“Maybe that’s because you make it so hard,” I shot back, though my voice lacked its usual bite.

He looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

Then, to my surprise, he reached out and lightly tapped the side of my coffee cup with his finger.

“You know,” he said, his voice softer now, “for someone who’s always ready to argue with me, you’re not half bad to be around.”

My heart stumbled over itself, but I forced a smirk. “Is that your way of saying you’re tolerable too?”

He shrugged, his lips quirking up again, but his gaze didn’t break from mine. It was unnerving—and disarming.

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he said, his lips curving into a faint smile.

But there was something different about the way he was looking at me now—something warmer, more genuine. My heart skipped a beat, and for once, I didn’t have a sarcastic remark ready.

“Noted,” I said finally, my voice a little breathless.

The moment lingered, the quiet hum of the library around us fading into the background. It wasn’t just his words—it was the way he was looking at me, like he was seeing me in a way he hadn’t before.

“Let’s get back to work,” he said suddenly, breaking the spell.

I nodded, fumbling to open my notebook as my cheeks warmed.

But as we worked, I couldn’t help but steal glances at him for the duration of our time together.

—————————

The sun was starting to set by the time I stepped out of the library, my bag slung over my shoulder and my head spinning from all the work we’d done. Min Ho trailed behind me, surprisingly quiet as we walked back across campus.

“So,” I ventured, breaking the silence. “I guess that wasn’t the worst study session I’ve ever had.”

“High praise,” he muttered, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Try not to let the compliment go to my head.”

I rolled my eyes, adjusting the strap of my bag. “I’m just saying—at least we didn’t kill each other.”

We crossed the courtyard, where strings of fairy lights lit up the pathways, casting a soft glow over the campus.

The lights softened the edges of everything, giving the world an almost dreamlike quality.

Or maybe that was just him—this weird, confusing mix of cocky and vulnerable that I was still trying to figure out.

The quiet hum of conversations and laughter filled the air, students milling about in small groups.

It was one of those rare moments when the chaos of the day faded into something calm.

Min Ho shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, looking away briefly before speaking. “I’ll walk you to your dorm.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Why? Afraid I’ll trip and break something?”

“Maybe,” he replied, his smirk returning. “But mostly because I don’t trust you not to get lost.”

I laughed despite myself, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he said again, but there was something softer in his voice this time.

We reached my building sooner than I expected. I stopped at the entrance, turning to face him.

“Well,” I said, awkwardly shifting my weight. “Thanks for... I guess, whatever this was.”

Min Ho leant against the brick wall, his hands shoved into his pockets. “Don’t thank me yet. You’ll probably be cursing my name halfway through this project.”

“Probably,” I agreed, trying to hide the small smile tugging at my lips.

For a moment, we just stood there, the quiet between us heavier than it had been all evening.

He didn’t move right away, and for a second, I thought he might say something else.

Instead, his gaze dipped to mine, steady and unreadable, before the smirk returned.

“Don’t stay up too late, klutz,” he said, pushing off the wall.

“I won’t if you don’t give me a reason to,” I shot back.

As he walked away, the fairy lights caught the faintest trace of a smile still lingering on his face.

For someone I swore I couldn’t stand, Min Ho was starting to make it harder and harder to look away.

——————

chat i highkey didn’t like this one, i made it late last night and im re-reading it like?? why was he angus one moment and all fine the next? whatever 🙈 i hoped you like it, next chapter coming soon.

also i had someone request to be put on a taglist but it wouldn’t let me tag you ☹️☹️😞😞💔💔💔😭😭😢🙍‍♀️🤕

GUYS HELP

#min ho story #min ho moon #min ho xo kitty #min ho fanfic #minho x reader #minho #min ho x reader #min ho #fanfic #story #enimes to lovers #tatbilb #xo kitty

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punkqs · 3 days ago

Text

I'm trying to get the guy I like and it's going wrong (or maybe not)

nerdjo x punkguru

words: 2652

notes: maybe I'll write more about this AU

Geto quietly enters the library, closing the door carefully to avoid making any noise.

Alright, now he has to find his classmate, Gojo Satoru, and, on his teacher Yaga’s orders, tell him that he’s going to be his new private math tutor. He can’t help but feel a little embarrassed—Gojo will probably think he’s an idiot for struggling with simple equations involving numbers and letters, and that he’s wasting time teaching someone who wears so much eyeliner. But whatever. He’s only doing this to pass that devilish math course. That’s the only thing that matters.

He walks through the hallways, first passing by the history section, where there’s no one. So, he heads to the next section—literature—where there are two people, but neither is who he’s looking for. He keeps searching everywhere but can’t find him. Yaga said he’d be here, maybe he’s just looking in the wrong places, though he’s already searched every section… except for the physics section. He hopes he’s there, because honestly, he doesn’t want to search the whole school.

He steps into the hall, and there he is—Gojo, reading a book.

Well, this is it. He sighs, resigned, and walks up to him.

“Hey, Gojo.”

“Huh?” Gojo turns around, blinking, adjusts his glasses, and closes the book. “Oh, hey.”

“Sorry to interrupt. I don’t want to bother you—“

“No, no, it’s fine,” Gojo clears his throat and holds the book against his chest. “What’s up?”

“Well… you see… I need help with math, and Professor Yaga said you could help me.”

“Oh,” Gojo adjusts his glasses again. “Sure, no problem.”

Geto blinks.

“Really? You’ll help me?” He can’t help but smile a little.

“Of course.” Gojo laughs lightly. “So, when are you free?”

“Uh, maybe this weekend? Does that work for you?”

“Yeah, sure. How about we meet at the park near here, around noon?”

“Yes! Thanks so much. See you then.”

“See ya.”

Geto waves and walks off.

Well, that was easy. For a moment, he thought Gojo might refuse, but it went the opposite way. In fact, it was pretty nice. Now that he thinks about it, it’s the first time they’ve really talked. They’re in the same class, but they’ve never said anything to each other before. But whatever, that’s not important. Now he can rest easy.

Meanwhile, Gojo, who had stayed in the hallway, feels his breath return to normal. His face is burning, and his heart is pounding. He can’t believe Geto actually talked to him and that they’re going to spend time together—well, just for studying, but still, it’s something. He sighs, feeling like he’s living in a dream.

Since he can remember, Gojo Satoru has always had feelings for Geto Suguru.

The first time he saw him was when Geto entered the classroom: his black hair impeccably styled, his purple eyes accentuated with carefully applied eyeliner, the piercings on his eyebrow, and that damn lock of hair.

Geto sat next to him, and Gojo froze, not wanting to look at him directly. He didn’t want to seem like a freak. But it was pointless, because Geto glanced over at him while taking books out of his bag. To Gojo’s surprise, he smiled at him kindly. Gojo’s face turned bright red, and he hid behind his book, pretending to read, but really, he was dying inside.

Since then, the years passed with Gojo watching Geto from a distance, like a lovesick fool. Gojo excelled at everything—everything except social skills—so he had no idea how to approach Geto. Plus, it was no surprise that Geto was popular almost immediately.

Of course, Geto Suguru was incredible. It was clear everyone would love him.

So maybe this was Gojo’s only chance to get closer to him and at least try to become friends.

“What’s up with you? You’re distracted, and that’s not normal for you,” Sukuna said while skating next to Gojo as they walked out of school together.

“What are you talking about? I’m not distracted.”

“Yeah, right. I made a joke about Ijichi and you didn’t laugh.”

Gojo rolls his eyes.

“Maybe the joke was so bad that I didn’t find it funny.”

“It can’t be because you laugh at anything that’s about Ijichi.”

Gojo grumbles and walks faster, but Sukuna, on his skateboard, keeps following him.

“You know I’m not going to leave until you tell me—”

Then Gojo shoves Sukuna and runs off. Sukuna falls to the ground, but he quickly gets up, realizing Gojo has already disappeared. Great, next time Gojo will pay for this.

Gojo throws his backpack down somewhere and flops onto his bed. Well, he really doesn’t want to tell Sukuna about being Geto’s tutor. If he found out, he’d never let Gojo live it down. It might sound a bit dramatic, but Sukuna knows about Gojo’s one-sided crush on Geto, and if he knows Gojo’s going to be his private tutor, he’ll torment him for the rest of his life. Gojo’s not about to let that happen.

But now he just has to survive the weekend. It’ll be easy.

It wasn’t easy.

Avoiding Sukuna was a real challenge. In fact, he’s getting paranoid now, looking around nervously. Then, just as he’s lost in his thoughts, he accidentally bumps into someone.

“Oh, sorry!”

Gojo’s heart starts to race… or maybe he’s just having a panic attack, but he hopes it’s the latter.

“Su… Geto?” he stammers, his heart hammering.

“Uh… yeah, I… caught your glasses before they fell. Sorry about that. Here.”

Gojo feels Geto’s warm hand as he passes him his glasses, and he thinks he might melt. He quickly puts them on.

“Don’t worry, I should have been paying more attention to where I was going.” Gojo rubs his neck, trying to calm himself. Now that he can see better, he notices the eyeliner, with hints of purple.

Damn it, he’s going to die.

“You’re so careless, Geto,” comes a voice from nearby.

Both of them turn. It’s Shoko, Geto’s close friend, and she’s smiling at Gojo. She exchanges a few glances with Geto, then laughs softly and says goodbye to Gojo before walking off.

“Sorry, I’ve got class with Shoko, and we’re already running late. So… weekend, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Gojo says quickly.

“Alright, see you then,” Geto waves and walks off.

Gojo is left standing there, his heart racing, feeling like the luckiest person in the world.

The weekend finally arrives, and Gojo can’t stop feeling nervous. As he packs the math books into his bag, he keeps reminding himself that this is just a study session, not a date. He needs to relax so he doesn’t mess it up.

When he heads out the door, he ignores the employees asking where he’s going or when he’ll be back. He opens the door, not bothering to close it, and heads to the park.

He’s the first one to arrive, which is good. He stands by the entrance, smoothing his hair, trying to calm his nerves. He needs to act casual, or he’ll embarrass himself in front of Geto.

“Hey, Gojo.”

He hears Geto’s voice from a distance and turns around so quickly that his neck hurts, but it doesn’t matter. It’s Geto, and he looks… as gorgeous as always. Gojo can’t help but smile.

“Hey, G-Geto.”

“Got everything—notebooks, books, calculator, and a ton of pencils,” Geto says when he reaches Gojo. “Is that enough?”

“It’s more than enough,” Gojo says, sounding like an idiot. He clears his throat and tries to focus. “Shall we go in?”

They head to a bench to study, sitting across from each other. They spend quite a while on math, and it seems to be paying off.

“You did great, Geto.”

“Really? It wasn’t so bad this time.”

“Because practice makes perfect. If you don’t practice, you’ll fail. But don’t worry. For your first session, you did great,” Gojo praises him, and Geto smiles, warming Gojo’s heart. “Do you want to take a break?”

“Yeah, please,” Geto says, pushing the books aside. “I can’t process another number.”

Gojo puts a few notebooks back in his bag, and then he notices that Geto is staring at him, making him nervous. He wonders if there’s something on his face.

“Is something wrong?”

“Uh…” Geto adjusts in his seat. “Actually, I wanted to ask something…”

“Ask me something?” Gojo doesn’t expect this. “Sure.”

“Yeah, well…” Geto plays with his fingers, which Gojo finds endearingly adorable. “I’ve noticed that studying doesn’t seem to be difficult for you, no offense, but it seems like you’re not even trying and you’re always the first to turn in the exam sheet…” Oh, so he’s observant. “So, I wanted to ask… Are you a genius? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, it’s just that it’s a doubt that almost everyone in the class has” he hurries to clarify.

Gojo laughs and Geto waits for a response.

“Well, yeah, I am”.

“Oh…” he looks at Gojo as if he really hadn’t seen him before. “Shoko owes me 10 yen”.

“Wait, did you guys bet?”

“Uh…” Geto shrugs slightly, looking a bit embarrassed. “She started it and couldn’t back down… Sorry?”

Gojo laughs again.

“Don’t worry about it, but at least I expect half the money”.

Now Geto laughs too, although he doesn’t think he said anything funny, but it doesn’t matter, as long as Geto is laughing and he’s happy.

And well, things were going really well, too well to be true, until someone called out his name. And of course, for Gojo’s bad luck, someone had to interrupt him and it was none other than…

“Sukuna” Gojo says between his teeth.

“I didn’t think you’d be around here…” he looks at Gojo and then slowly looks at Geto, then looks back at Gojo and smiles in a macabre way, and Gojo just wants to make him disappear from the face of the earth. “And Geto, what a surprise”.

He approaches and sits down next to Gojo, intentionally pushing him a bit.

“Uh, hi, Sukuna” despite everything, Geto smiles, sensing a bit of tension between the two.

“Sukuna, don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Gojo narrows his eyes.

“Well…” Sukuna pretends to think, putting his hand on his chin. “No” and smiles, showing his teeth.

“I thought you’d be with Uraume” Gojo counterattacks with a smile.

Sukuna had been in love with Uraume for a long time, one of the reasons why they have a minimum of mutual understanding. So far, Sukuna and Uraume were just good friends, but it seems he touched a sensitive nerve because Sukuna frowned.

“Them has other things to do”.

If looks could kill, Gojo would probably already be dead.

Geto looks at the exchange between Gojo and Sukuna, wondering what their relationship is. At school, everyone knows that Gojo and Sukuna are a kind of rivals, always competing for the top spot in the class, he thought maybe they didn’t get along, but it seems it’s not entirely true. So, in silence, he packs up his things, and when he’s done, he looks at them, they’re still arguing, maybe it’s time to leave, although he would have liked to spend a little more time with Gojo…

Geto gets up and clears his throat, trying to get his attention, which he manages to do.

“Uh, I’m leaving, I don’t want to interrupt… whatever it is you’re doing” and says in a low voice. “I guess I’ll see you later, Gojo”. And he leaves.

Gojo panics and Sukuna seems victorious for achieving his goal, but he won’t let that happen, so he gets up and rushes over.

“Wait, Geto!”

Geto stops and turns around.

“Yeah?”

“I… Sorry about that, it’s just that Sukuna is…” annoying, pesky, unbearable is what he would have liked to say. “A special case, dealing with him sometimes is… well, sorry if you felt uncomfortable”.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I really didn’t think you and Sukuna were good friends” and he shrugs.

Gojo blinks, the way he said it sounded a bit weird, but maybe he’s just overthinking.

“He’s an idiot” Gojo downplays it and sees Geto laugh slightly, apparently as a bit of encouragement. “And also, we haven’t coordinated when your next class will be” he rubs the back of his neck with his hand, he’s starting to get nervous.

“Ah, that’s true” Geto thinks for a few seconds and then takes his phone out of his pocket. “How about we exchange phone numbers? That way we can coordinate”.

“Uh, ah… Yeah, sure!” And Gojo smiles like an idiot. After exchanging numbers, Geto promises to text or call him.

“See you soon, Gojo” he smiled warmly and walked away.

“Y-yeah, me too!” Well, time to shut up, he runs a hand through his hair and sighs.

He has Suguru Geto’s phone number.

“So you were trying to keep me from knowing you were seeing Geto? You’re quite the Romeo, Gojo” said Sukuna, who suddenly appeared at his side.

Gojo shook his head.

“I’m just his math teacher.”

He kept his eyes on where Geto had gone, he sure looked ridiculous, but don’t blame him, he’s just a man in love.

“Mmm, I guess it’ll do you good, the good thing is that you made a very good impression —and he laughed.”

“Don’t even think about interrupting us next time.”

“Oh, I don’t promise anything…”

Gojo punched Sukuna in the stomach, then turned around and walked away.

As Gojo headed home, he received a text from Geto. Excited, he replied and hoped that this was the start of a friendship or, if he allowed himself to dream big, something more.

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