#the main topic of conversation lately

[aaronsinferno]

;) my boys

[torgawl]

i'm so in love with wrio. that man is the embodiment of mercy and compassion. he is so... human. despite the deep disdain for atrocious acts that hurt others, especially acts that remind him of his own pain and traumas, he is able to keep himself in check and hold on to his values. despite being so proactive in fixing the wrongdoings of people that actively harm those under his care and assuring that everyone is supported in the best way possible; despite knowing he could have not controlled other people's hearts once they were in too deep in their own sins, he still feels helpless and incompetent. he recognises he cannot fully empathise with those who have been hurt for he has not experienced what they have and he understands that some wounds might not be able to heal even with all the attention and efforts, or at least not that easily. and it pains him. his whole life he's been trying to protect others. all his hard work during his time at the fortress and taking over it's administration has granted him the power and resources to actually change lives in a more restorative way, with a bigger amplitude than just the people who he's close to. yet he's only human. and not everyone wishes to be saved. and he doesn't hold back from breaking his own rules if means he is guaranteeing the best outcome for the greater good, for the well being of all of those he's sworn to protect. and although he earned himself a respectable title and even got used to being referred to in that way, he doesn't see people at the fortress as innmates but as equals. he never stopped being the little boy that was sentenced to live over a decade of his life there. and he is so good at what he does and he is so successful at restoring people's hopes in life, at giving them a second chance to become who they want to be, that there's people who actually want to stay there. he is the literal personification of turning your own pain into goodness, into love. love for community and love for others. he found meaning in making the world a better place and i just think that's really fucking beautiful.

[paradox-the-unimpressed-nun]

Yoriichi x F!reader Minors DNI 18+

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ REQUEST ARE OPEN

Summary: You and yoriichi have one main thing in common, you both want a family

Warning: breeding kink, creampie, fluff, vanilla sex, oral sex f!receiving , mentions of a stillborn, spit as lube. Not prof read⚠️

A/N: I just wanted to write a little smut for my dear lil sunshine boy, I'm sorry for the all the smut as of late I've been possessed.(>-•)╦̵̵̿╤─ (⊙⊙). I’ve edited some things from the og so if it’s different from the sneak peak thats why :4.

Yoriichi has never been the best at showing emotions, you’re very aware of this. Many are put off by his lack of expression.

You’ve learned that even though his face doesn’t show any emotion, that doesn’t mean he isn’t feeling anything. In truth he feels a lot, he’s an incredibly sweet and kind man.

The main point of your bounding between you and yoriichi is that you both desperately want a family.

You lost your family just like Yoriichi, of course you talked about other things but the topic of family always snuck it’s face into your conversations.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You make your way towards Yoriichi with a tray of of food in your hands. Yoriichi is quietly sitting on your porch, he would have been mistaken for a statue if he didn’t shift his head into your direction.

“Forgive me for taking so long, I thought I had sweat tea but I ended up only having green tea” Yoriichi takes the plate from your hands as you sit down, he returns after your fully seated.

“It is fine, I like green tea” his voice bland a quick as usual. You hand him a cup, you carefully watch him take a sip. You’re worried you somehow managed to mess up the tea.

His face doesn’t change as he finishes his sip. “It’s good” again his voice is bland but you know he actually likes it. There’s a awkward silence between you to, your eyes wander trying to find something to make the mood better.

Your eyes fixate on the tea, picking up your own glass you scoot yourself closer to him. You smile at him “I-I heard that green tea is good for fertility” the smile quickly fades from your face as Yoriichi stares at you.

For once you have no idea what he’s thinking or feeling, he just stares directly into your eyes. Panic washes over you as you believe you’ve greatly upset him. Your face turns a beat red and you stumble out an apology.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it-like that!” You avert your gaze away from him being to embarrassed for the prior statement. Yoriichis gaze slightly softens and he opens his mouth “it’s fine, I know you mean well”.

Your gaze makes it back to his, your heart speaks before your mind. “I….I mean…I just thought..what if you got re married” immediately you mentally slap yourself.

In a conversation you had with yoriichi awhile back you brought up getting re married, you said you were open to the idea of getting re married while yoriichi shut down the thought of re marrying.

You’re already about to spill out another apology but yoriichi cuts you off. “If I got re married then this tea would be quite helpful, I appreciate the thought” he’s voice is different you don’t know how but it is, his voice sounds like a new song to you. Your eyes widen as he entertains the thought of getting re married.

You stare at him, and lean closer to him. Slowly you place your hand on Yoriichis cheek, your heart beat fastens. The world feels almost silent as the only thing your able to hear is the sound of your heart racing. Yoriichi doesn't move neither does his gaze, he carefully watches you.

Now you're inches from his face, you pause and stare into his eyes one last time. Next you connect your lips to his soft and warm ones. Your heart flutters as your lips connect, you feel so loved, beautiful and wanted.

Yoriichi shortly kisses you back wrapping his arms around you in the process. Sliding your arms around his neck you both deepen the kiss. As you both kiss Yoriichi gently moves you onto your back and makes his way on top of you. Yoriichi licks your lower lip asking permission to go inside. You let his tongue in as you wrap your legs around his hips. Both of your tongues dance with each other. You feel as if you're melting into him.

You both were so lost in the kiss neither of you realized your hips were grinding against each other. A bulge formed in Yoriichi pants, he subconsciously grinds his bulge harder into your clothed sex.

Yoriichi pulls away from the kiss -much to your dismay- thoughts race through your mind as you wonder what you did wrong in order to make him stop.

“I don’t want our first time together to be on the floor… Can we move to your room?” As he gets up he grabs your to help you up, he doesn’t let go after. “Yes….I think that would be much more romantic” you respond unsure as what to say.

Hand in hand you walk to your bedroom, you open the door for him and went in. You both sit down on the futon, his lips immediately find themselves back onto yours.

Yoriichi once again pulled away but this time he focused on your neck. He trails kisses upon your neck, gently sucking on your neck. There will defiantly be marks on your neck in the morning.

sneakily his hands find their way to your obi, he slowly unties it. Your obi slips off of you and soon does the rest of your kimono. Leaving you in nothing but your panties. In return you undress him, you’re slow wanting to take in all of his image. It seems you aren’t alone, yoriichi takes this opportunity to also admire your body. Feeling his gaze you instinctively cover your breast and stomach.

He stared at you a little dumbfounded, did he not like you stretch marks? Or was he disgusted with your extra pudge? Thoughts started to run through your mind, Yoriichi seemed to have taken noticed. Yoriichi pulls your hands away from your chest, bringing them to your side. While covering yourself you had left finger marks from squeezing to hard.

He makes his way lower down your body, he places kisses on the marks you left behind. You can hear your heart beat, you believe he can to. His hands sneakily makes it to your breast groping your chest. Taking one of your breast into his mouth and while his hand plays with your harden nipples. His tongue swirls around your buds, the other pinching your nipple.

A loud pop sound comes from him letting go of your chest, he looks up at you and squeezes your breast. “These need to be filled” Yoriichis words go straight to your clit making you somehow wetter than you already were.

Yoriichi lays you onto your back, in the process he grabs your legs. He taps two fingers on your thigh, asking for approval. Turing your head you slowly open your legs, your panties were dampen from your arousal . Shivers run up your spine as he place’s sweet kisses down your inner thigh. He makes sure to be slow, wanting to savor the moment. Finally he makes it to needy cunt. Yoriichi simply moves your panties to the side, he is to hungry to fully take them off. You could feel is hot breath against your clit, you instinctively bump your hips up.

He laps at your cunt, instinctively you close your legs. It’s been so long sense you’ve had someone go down on you, the feeling almost feels foreign. You didn’t even realize what you did until you feel yoriichis hand tap your thigh. Immediately you open your legs back up, your face is red as a tomato. “Sorry!!” You squeak out, turning your head to the side out of embarrassment. “It is fine…” is the only thing he said before closing his lips around your sensitive nub, sucking gently and promoting your eyes to flutter shut.

With one hand you grab his neat ponytail to push his him down further, the other grabbing the futon beneath you. Yoriichi fingers prod at your opening slithering into you. Instinctively you arch your back to get more stimulation. Yoriichi slides in another finger which earns him a sweet moan from your lips. A mixture of your fluids and yoriichis spit drips down his chin. Your once free hand moves to yoriichis ponytail “Yoriichi I’m close!” you moan in-between words. He doesn’t stop. Letting go of the futon you grab his ponytail and force his head down more, arching your back and hips in the process. Yoriichi laps at your clit and his fingers curl inside of you. Your vision goes white as you feel yoriichi lap at your sweet release. Your legs shake as you continue to hold yoriichi in place, panting form your high. It’s been a very long time sense you’ve had an orgasm this amazing. Yoriichi takes the initiative and pops his head up then pushes your hips down.

His gaze meets yours instinctively you turn away your arm covering your blushful face. You’re a little embarrassed that your juices are all over yoriichis mouth and chin. Yoriichi pulls your hips towards his, pulling you out of your thoughts. Somehow you feel hotter. He spits in his hand and rubs his very hard, leaking shaft. See his cock makes your mouth water, it’s just as beautiful as the rest of him. Big with a pretty pink tip, you wished he would’ve given you the time to suck him off, perhaps next time… yoriichi rubs his tip up against your entrance, rubbing it up against your soaking cunt. A grunt comes from him as your warm sticky juices cover his shaft. Anxiety erupts over you, hopefully he won’t find you “to loose”.

With a shaky breath Yoriichi speaks “I’m going to put it in now…” his face his flushed and his briefly look up at yours. All you can do is nod as you eagerly wait for him to finally put it in.

Finally he directs his tip to your entrance, slowly he slides in. Both of you moan at the feeling of one another’s body’s finally connecting. Yoriichi is big but you didn’t expect him to stretch you. He stops waiting for you to adjust to his size, he looks up waiting for your approval.

“Con-continue…please” your speech slow from you trying to calm your breathing. Yoriichi starts with slow thrust, trying to be gentle with you and find your sweet spots. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips, surely it will leave marks in the morning. Yoriichi earns a moan out of you as he brushes a certain spot inside of you.

“Right there! Right there!” You wrap your legs around his hips and hands hold onto his back. Keeping him there not wanting him to lose that spot. Yoriichi thrust more rough hitting that spot that made you see stars again. Heading your sweet moans made him pick up his pace his forehead onto yours.

You earn grunts and wines from yoriichi as you squeeze around him. Your cunt practically sucking him in deeper yearning for more. Each time he hits that spot he yearns a moan of his name from your sweet lips.

Yoriichi kisses your forehead lovingly, each kiss making your heart and cunt flutter. He moves kisses down your nose to your cheek then to your lips. Yoriichi sucks at your bottom lip making your mouth open, he takes this as an opportunity to sneak his tongue back into your mouth. In between kisses both of your moans can be heard. You feel like it’s your first time all over again, completely lost in the others body, sloppily kissing and humping. Yoriichis thrust turns into sloppy grinds wanting to get as deep as possible inside of you. Yoriichi breaks the kiss leaving a trail of saliva running down both of your chins. His eyes make it towards your chest seeing the stretch marks on your breast. Thoughts of you bearing hid children spread through his head, he knew he wanted a family with you but actually being in the moment? Having the opportunity to have the family he always wanted? It made his head spin.

Yoriichi pulls out completely leaving your poor cunt grasping onto nothing, a whine leaves you as the uncomfortable feeling of being empty flushed over you. What happened? What went wrong? Why did he pull out? You were about to ask why but was quickly stopped and yoriichi grabbed under your knee. He pushes your knees to your chest and lines himself back up to your cunt. Yoriichi quickly waste no time and bottoms you out, You scream and the absolute pleasure. He had put you into a mating press, somehow yoriichi feels deeper and bigger. His heavy balls slap against your dripping cunt. Both your juices and his precum slide down your ass onto the once cleaned Funton.

Your nails dig into his back leaving little red marks. You feel a familiar tightness building up in you. Yoriichi seems to be close as well, with that he picks up his pace.

You try desperately to tell him that you’re close but, you can’t seem to be able to forms the words to tell him. Drool drips down you mouth as your completely taken over by pleasure.

Jerking your head back onto the soft pillow that tightness that had been building up finally releases.

Yoriichi fucks you through your sweet organism, somehow going faster before finally stopping hitting his own orgasm. Thick white strings of cum line the walls of your sweet cunt, filling your womb to the brim.

Yoriichis warm cum seeps out of your pussy spilling onto the soiled sheets.

You both stay there for what feels like forever. Enjoying the feeling of one another’s bodies being against each other.

Looking up at yoriichis face he’s completely flushed, sweat drips down his forehead as he looks down at your also flustered self.

Yoriichi he looks at you like he’s just learned how to love all over again.

You don’t want him to stop and it doesn’t seem that he’s planning on stopping anytime soon. As he starts grinding his hips into yours once more.

You pull him down into a kiss, and of course returns the kiss. It’s sloppy and dirty as your tongues intertwined.

This seems to rile him up as he starts fully thrusting into your filled cunt once more.

God you hope the tea thing was true

🍓 I need to go to bed, my eyes hurt from lack of sleep ( ◜◡༎ຶ). Also sorry for all the smut my brain has just been 𓀐𓂸 all week. ALSO! Thank you for 300 followers ya'll are the best (ง ˃ ³ ˂)ว ⁼³₌₃⁼³

🍓edit: I have 700 followers now THANK YOU!!!

🍓UPDATE 2 800FOLLOWERS?!? YALL ARE INSANE

🍓 Update 3 i no longer like this, I’ll make a remake eventually, but I hope this short sweet fic makes y’all happy. I really pushed this off because I’m no longer happy with it. But I finished it. I wanna move on to other things. But expect more fanfic of him. Actually fuck it if enough people want a part two I’ll make a longer smuttier one. Sorry if you didn’t get tagged when u asked by notifications are all full. Also need more fanfic of this man I’m feral.

@ethereal1l @lovelymiraix @yoriichisc0msl4t2 @yoriichis-love @sush1trasher @aweebontheinternet2005 @xiernia @anemoneorc @lovelymiraix @ethereal1l @weebflames @azuriel-kinayoko @lovingyeet @krillfromsky @rjssierjrie @t0miejins @yuyuchann1 @genshinsimpforlif @hyunjinslefteyeball4 @puddingchoo

[darkmatilda]

ׂ╰┈➤ the pumpkin reaper

part 1: first day of investigation

part 2 here!

in which you and the BAU are handling the case of a murderer in a small, sleepy town

tw: decapitation, description of a crime scene etc, mention of a suicide attempt, mental illness

contents: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader, solving a criminal mystery, angst, slow burn

words: 4k

“And how's school?”

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

“It could be worse,” said Jeremy after a moment, in an indifferent tone. You sighed, wondering if, as a teenager, you also answered everything, even more serious, open questions with vague remarks, driving the person asking how you were doing to frustration.

Answering that question, no, you didn’t do that. When you were a teenager, you didn’t have anyone who cared about you. Precisely for this reason that you practically tormented your brother with phone conversations, feeling immense guilt for leaving him with your parents. The same parents with whom you ultimately decided to cut off contact. You had never faced a more difficult decision — cutting them off or continuing a relationship that tragically affected your mental health? After each interaction with them, you felt weak, defenseless, insignificant, and above all, exhausted. It wasn’t even about your mother’s illness. They were just terrible people.

Your sixteen-year-old brother didn’t have that option. He had to deal with them until he turned eighteen and moved out. You regularly made sure he was okay. However, lately, you had the impression that his voice was becoming more and more devoid of emotion. Depressed. And you couldn’t do anything about it.

Prentiss appeared right in front of you. She noticed you were on the phone, so to avoid interrupting you, she tried to convey something silently. With her thumb, she pointed toward the main deck of the jet. From the movements of her lips, you were able to read, “Hotch is calling everyone.”

“Don’t think I’m going to let this topic go,” you said again to your brother. You could imagine him rolling his green eyes. “I have to get back to work; I’ll call as soon as I have time. Don’t get into trouble and take care. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You ended the call and noticed a smile on the brunette’s face. Together, you joined the rest of the team.

“I heard part of your conversation,” she confessed. “Don’t tell me you have a kid that you’re hiding from us?”

“Who’s hiding what from whom?” Morgan chimed in as he walked in, holding two huge cups of coffee. He handed one of them to Reid.

Prentiss nodded in your direction.

“Did you know that y/n has a kid?”

You nudged her.

“I don’t have any kids. I was just talking to my brother,” you explained briefly. You didn’t like discussing your family, even with friends. In fact, you were often accused of being too secretive.

“I didn’t even know you had a brother,” Reid added, frowning. 

He, along with the rest of them, looked at you with mild surprise. You muttered something under your breath, shrugging. You felt a bit embarrassed that your family was the center of the discussion. You were saved from the awkwardness by your own boss.

“Can we start?”

JJ handed out the case files. As soon as you opened yours, you were met with an exceptionally graphic scene.

“ The bodies were discovered by someone from the forestry service, but according to the local police, anyone could have found them. It wasn’t hidden very carefully, as if someone didn’t care about it being discovered. A man and a woman, both decapitated. Before you ask, the heads were found in the same place as the rest of the bodies. Except for that, no serious injuries, just a few minor bruises and scratches. As if they were trying to defend themselves while they still could. “

No one spoke; the only sound was the turning of pages as the whole team focused intently on analyzing the photos. Your brows lowered in concentration, your entire face tense. Maybe you looked at things like this every day, but that didn’t mean it had become pleasant or that it didn’t disgust you. Sitting across from you, Reid was the first to speak.

“What do we know about the victims?”

At that same moment, as JJ spoke up again, you flipped the page and were met with two photos that looked like they’d been pulled from a social media account. Both people were alive, happy. The man was crouching next to a young boy who seemed to be pulling away, unwilling to be in the picture with his father. In the background, there was a garden, a tall white fence typical of American suburbs, and a slide. You barely stopped yourself from glancing at Hotch — he had a son around the same age, and this case might hit him particularly hard. The woman in the photo wore square glasses, with a cheerful, friendly gaze peeking out from beneath them. Round cheeks, a wide smile.

"Andrew Ward, 37 years old. He was one of the city councilors. He had a wife and one son, and he’d lived in this town his entire life. Then there's Jessica Larsen, the deputy mayor—she and her husband were both heavily involved in public life."

“A city councilor and the deputy mayor?” Prentiss repeated, thoughtfully resting her elbow on the arm of her seat. “Does anyone else feel like this could be some kind of score-settling? Revenge? Maybe from someone who was wronged by the city council over… I don’t know…”

"Higher bills," you said absentmindedly, blurting out the first thought that came to mind, immediately wincing at your own foolishness. You were still distracted by the conversation with Jeremy. You pinched your arm, trying to force yourself to focus on the case.

"Raising bills doesn’t typically drive people to murder," Reid corrected, pausing to glance at the files again. You never felt embarrassed when he pointed out your mistakes—he had a way of doing it so skillfully and politely. "Prentiss is on the right track; it could be revenge. Our UNSUB might hate authority due to some personal experience, maybe sees themselves as an anarchist, though it's hard to lean in that direction with so little information. Garcia, have you checked if the victims were connected in any way?"

The blonde woman on the laptop screen nodded.

"I’ve checked everything I could find about them, but unfortunately, I couldn’t uncover a single connection that might move the case forward."

Hotch raised a hand, stopping you from further speculation.

"That’s not all," he began, looking at each of you in turn. "Right after those two bodies were found, three more were discovered."

Morgan raised his eyebrows high.

"Five bodies? No wonder they called us in."

"And here’s where our biggest problem arises," your boss continued “Look at the photos. These three bodies were also decapitated but except for that, treated in a completely different way”

You turned the page again, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Other victims were killed with much more brutality, all covers in cuts and bruises. It was even hard to define their gender, but when you looked at the description you knew that this time, they were all women."Were two different people responsible for this?" Prentiss asked.

“Two murders cutting their victims' heads in such a small city?” spoke up Rossi, skeptically. 

"I don’t think it’s two different killers," you said hesitated, unable to look away from the photos. As you studied them, you absorbed every detail, trying to imagine the murderer inflicting these injuries. If anyone could have peered into your mind at that moment, they might have gotten serious PTSD. “Just…take a look at the wounds. There’s much more on these women and are visibly more brutal. But they look like they were inflicted by the same hand, the same person. The placement is often consistent," you noted. "How much time passed between the murders?"

“We haven’t gotten this information yet" said Hotch. "But based on my experience, I can say we’re looking at a matter of weeks."

You noticed that Reid was watching you closely. It seemed he was doing it unconsciously. When you sent him a questioning glance, he slightly blushed and immediately cleared his throat.

“I’m curious about what y/n said,” he admitted. It was clear to see the many calculations and analyses happening in his mind. This was evident in the increasing pace of his speech. “It really does look like the same person, but in different circumstances, perhaps influenced by different emotions. Maybe even with different motives. I realize the possibility of that is close to zero, but what if we’re dealing with a murderer with multiple personality disorder?”

A silence fell as everyone contemplated Reid's words. You made eye contact with him again — your tracks of thought began to overlap, your conclusions intertwining. Looking at his face, you felt, in a way, smarter and understood; it became easier to connect the fragments of ideas that had surfaced in your mind.

You shook your head.

 "No... I'm not sure. I understand what you're saying, but it seems to me that this isn't entirely true in our case. Your theory would suggest that two different personalities of our UNSUB committed these crimes, but in such cases, the crimes usually contrast more with each other. It's much harder to connect them, and here... I immediately noticed that this was the work of the same person."

Reid leaned in with interest over the table. Everyone seemed to look at you encouragingly, waiting for you to continue your theory. Yet you only took on a resigned, apologetic posture — nothing else came to mind. Any potential ideas felt too chaotic; some instincts accompanied you, but it was nothing you wanted to share out loud. You felt that they wouldn't help at all.

"We'll definitely know more after seeing the crime scene," Hotch stated, closing his files. With that, he ended the official discussion, giving you time to review the photos alone and think everything over one more time.

That’s exactly what you focused on for the rest of the meeting. You sat with one leg crossed over the other, a closed folder resting on your lap. You didn’t need to look at the photos anymore; you just needed to close your eyes and listen to your intuition. It definitely had something to say about this case. You just weren’t sure what…

Just before arriving at the scene, Hotch asked to speak with you privately. You couldn't hide it; you felt a bit anxious.

Maybe it was about your recent distraction. Of course, it was about your worry for your brother, but that shouldn’t have been an excuse; nothing should be distracting you. Or maybe he wanted to discuss something completely different, and you had just imagined this whole scenario in your mind. Knowing you and your tendency to overthink, both options seemed equally likely.

 "As I mentioned, y/n, I need to talk to you about something. It’s regarding your accommodation."

First, you breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn’t anything more serious. Then, your eyebrows raised in surprise. Accommodation?

"There have been some issues with the hotel we’re planning to stay at," Hotch continued. "We couldn’t secure separate rooms for each of you. You’ve been assigned to share a room with Reid. If that’s a problem for you, we can always look for another place, but that would mean you'd be away from the rest of the team..."

“No, it’s not a problem,” you assured him, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. You were relieved that the conversation didn’t involve any serious issues, just a trivial problem with the room. Besides, why would it bother you to share a room with Spencer? It was only for a few nights. "I was afraid you wanted to talk to me about something else," you blurted out.

“About what?” he asked suspiciously. 

“Oh, nothing,” you replied quickly and somewhat squeakily.

Hotch smiled slightly at your reaction, but his gaze seemed to analyze you closely.

 Oh you idiot, why couldn’t you just shut up? you thought to yourself as you walked away.

*

The weather decided to play a trick on you.

 As you were driving to the crime scene, the waterfall was sliding down the windshield, almost making it impossible to see anything. In any case, there wasn't much to look at. After passing the main part of the town, you were surrounded only by forest — trees shimmering in shades of orange.

The view didn’t impress you much. You definitely preferred warm, sunny weather and lounging in the sun, rather than freezing every day after stepping outside and dealing with frizzy hair from the humidity. You liked the town better. It felt small and cozy, as if it were taken straight out of Gilmore Girls.

Prentiss was behind the wheel, and you were sitting next to her in the passenger seat, while JJ was your navigator. The boys took a different car.

“So,” Emily began, turning left at the intersection with her eyes fixed on the road. “You care a lot about your brother, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, sinking deeper into your seat. Why did she have to bring this up again? It wasn't that you didn't trust them; you just didn’t like talking about your family. It wasn't even about being ashamed — why dwell on unpleasant topics? Besides, as was well known, you were private. You had to be incredibly close to someone to open up, and even then, you didn’t lay all your cards on the table.

Together with JJ, they looked at you kindly and encouragingly. You acted like you were fascinated by what was behind the glass. Soon, you arrived at the crime scene. 

That means, before you reached your destination, you had to walk quite a distance into the forest. Since it was late October, the days had grown particularly short, and you could already see the first streaks of darkness between the enormous trees that seemed to watch you with their ancient gaze.

If you hadn't had the girls with you, you would have felt a thrill on your spine. 

The location where the bodies were found had been secured very thoroughly. Local police cars gathered there, and soon the rest of your team arrived. You glanced at your muddy shoes and made a mental note to start dressing more appropriately for the weather from tomorrow on.

The rain intensified. Emily pulled her hood tighter around her head. 

“Working in these conditions...'"

Her sentence was interrupted by the appearance of an incredibly tall man, somewhat resembling a bear. Long hair protruded from under his sheriff's hat, and he seemed to be about the same age as Hotch, with whom he immediately shook hands. 

“Agent Hotchner, we're from the FBI.'"

"Sheriff Russell” he introduced himself, pressing his hand to his forehead with concern. 'I've never seen anything like this, and I've seen a lot. I can't believe anyone from this town could do something like this; I know these people and...'"

“Can we see the bodies?" you asked. It was getting dark, and you wanted to get as good a look as possible. There was something intriguing about this case that had unsettled you since the moment you first opened the file.

Without waiting for an answer, you and Emily moved toward the secured area. Despite the circumstances, the corner of her mouth twitched.

"God, I hate this chatter," she sighed in annoyance. "I know these people; they’d never do something like this," she mimicked the sheriff’s deep voice. "Neighbors of serial killers always say that. Someone can be polite in conversation and keep five bodies in their basement — it’s not mutually exclusive."

You stifled a laugh. 

"Don’t forget the how could he have done it? He always said good morning in the hallway!"

“Or about kids. Sure, he was killing small animals since he was four and had a knife collection, but deep down, he was polite! I can't believe he shot up half the school…”

Hotch appeared right next to you, so you cut her off with a firm elbow jab. You accidentally hit her in the ribs, causing her to let out a groan. This only intensified your incredibly inappropriate amusement. Your boss was standing so close, so you covered your mouth under the guise of a cough. 

In the next thirty minutes, the laughter faded away.

You began by examining the bodies of the first victims, in chronological order. These were the three brutally murdered women. The whole scene seemed to be waiting for your arrival. Not a single detail had been altered, making it easier for you to connect emotionally with the situation. Most of the profilers you knew were meticulous about keeping their feelings detached from their work. It was the only way to endure this job for more than a year without committing suicide. You applied that strategy yourself, but not entirely.

When investigating a case, you tried to imagine yourself in both the shoes of the perpetrator and the victims. Often, you would close your eyes, attempting to visualize and feel it all in vivid detail. To step away from pure theory and let intuition take over.

It was likely the reason that, for the past year since you started this work, you hadn’t imagined a day without at least one tranquilizer and a sleeping pill.

After thoroughly examining the first crime scene, you drove to inspect the next one. This time, the victims were two people connected to the city council. The previous victims had been a teacher, a former resident of the orphanage, and a social worker. When you learned this, a heavy feeling settled at the back of your mind. You were certain there was a connection between these victims.

"Let’s consider what drives the unsub to remove the victim’s head" Rossi suggested.

Before you could even define the meaning of the question, Reid rushed to answer.

"Decapitation is one of the most symbolic acts of violence. The head represents thought, intellect, and control. By removing it, the killer may be expressing a need to destroy those aspects. It could also be a form of humiliation, a metaphorical stripping of their power and authority," he explained in a slightly robotic tone, as if reciting from a Wikipedia entry.

You smiled subtly at the thought. He noticed and gave you a questioning look, which you chose to ignore.

“That would fit for the two later victims," Morgan said, resting his hands thoughtfully on his hips. "They were on the city council — the unsub might have felt he was stripping them of authority and power. But how does that apply to the others? A social worker, a teacher, and an orphanage employee?"

You fixed your gaze on your dirty shoes, Derek’s question echoing in your mind.

 What was it all about?

*

You’d forgotten your sleeping pills.

Once more, you searched your toiletries bag, where you usually kept them. Not a trace.

You pressed your lips tightly together, angry with yourself. Your sleep problems weren’t that serious — were caused mainly by overthinking and constant worry. You didn’t have the motivation to take care of yourself in that regard. It was much easier to rely on the medication, and as long as it worked. Sometimes you forgot that you were even struggling with it at all.

“Is something wrong?” Reid asked, stepping out of the bathroom. Following Hotch’s words, you were sharing a room with him. “You seem upset.”

You shook your head dismissively.

“I just forgot something.”

Only then did you look at him. He was wearing plaid pajama pants and a gray t-shirt. You realized it was the first time you’d seen him in such casual, everyday clothing. He usually wore shirts, blazers, and vests — somewhat grandpa-like, but you thought it suited him well.

You realized you had been staring at each other in silence for quite some time. To break the awkwardness, you cleared your throat and decided to return to one of the exhausting topics.

“There’s something strange about this case. You know, I’ve thought a lot about your theory regarding personality disorder, but something doesn’t sit right with me. Aside from the fact that it’s very, very rare, it’s just… my intuition doesn’t agree with it. I hope I don’t sound like a shaman. 

Spencer bursted out and sat on the edge of his bed. In your room, only the standing lamp illuminated the space, casting a dim orange light around. Despite that, you could see the thoughtful expression on his face.

“We once dealt with a case where the unsub was struggling with that very disorder. He was abused as a child and developed a separate personality, Amanda, who harmed men similar to his abuser,” he shared in a quiet, less confident tone than the one he used on the jet. He must have been tired after a long day at work, and like you, frustrated that you hadn’t found anything.

Above all, the circumstances were different. Your conversation had shifted to a more personal level, concerning two friends rather than coworkers. 

“Do you see any similarities between these two cases?” you asked, intrigued since you had never dealt with a similar case yourself.

“Not exactly,” he shook his head. “At one time, I read a lot about that disorder. There was another instance where we had an unsub who…” he trailed off, a visibly tense expression crossing his face.

“It’s okay,” you quickly reassured him. You didn’t know what was bothering him, but it was clear he regretted bringing it up at all. You had never been one to push for more; you often felt uncomfortable with certain topics, and you were incredibly grateful when someone recognized your withdrawal and changed the subject. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks” he whispered. But I think there’s something to your intuition. This whole case is exceptionally peculiar.”

““Well, you can call me a shaman now. By the way, are you planning to go to bed already?”

“And you?” he replied with a question of his own. “Actually, I’d prefer to read for a while, but I don’t want to disturb your sleep…”

Your broad smile clearly surprised him.

“I was hoping you’d say that. I wanted to spend some time with a book too”

In fact, it didn’t stem from your desires at all. You loved reading, but your brain was usually too tired for it in the evenings. However, you were aware that falling asleep would take you an unusually long time, and you preferred to make use of that time rather than stare at the ceiling.

You pulled out the only novel you had brought, Kafka on the Shore. You were about halfway through. Then you remembered you had meant to call your brother, but when you glanced at the clock, you realized that due to the time zone difference, it was already late at night for him. You sighed with a pang of guilt. You promised yourself you would do it tomorrow.

“Goodnight, Spencer,” you said when you both agreed it was finally time to go to sleep.

“Goodnight, shaman” he responded. 

You smiled in your pillow. 

part 2?

[togrowoldinv]

Secret Santa

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When Natasha gets your name for Secret Santa, she tries to think of the perfect gift for you

Note: I’m back! Well, technically I never left but I’ve been up to my ears in studying for the cpa exam. I took what was hopefully my last exam today, and let Natasha come back into my brain lol. Enjoy this holiday fluff!

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

“Okay, on to the topic of the Christmas party. What if do Secret Santa names this year?” Tony suggests.

“What does that entail?” Steve asks what everyone else is thinking.

“Well, we’d all write down a few things we like. It gives the person who gets your name an idea of what you want,” Tony explains.

“I like it,” Steve agrees. “What does everyone think?”

A chorus of sures and okays follow.

“Y/n, can you take care of it?” Steve asks.

You agree easily. You’ve always loved the holidays so the idea of helping the Avengers have a good one is exciting. Especially since it’s your first year with the team.

You get everyone’s names on notecards and spend the rest of the day getting everyone to fill them out with gift ideas. Wanda helps you collect them from the team before the next team meeting the next morning.

“Okay, everyone I have all of the names here. Draw one and whatever you get is what you have. No switching allowed,” you tell the team, mainly Tony.

You eyeball him as you say it and he at least pretends to look offended before he grins.

When you get to Natasha, you smile at her shyly.

“What if I get my own name?” She asks with a smirk.

She reaches into the bowl of names before you can answer. Her expression is unreadable as she looks at the card.

“Good?” You ask.

“It’s good,” Natasha replies.

You move on and keep going until everyone’s been picked. You got Wanda, which should be super easy.

On the other hand, Natasha got you. She thinks about it for a few days before deciding that she doesn’t want to get you anything on your list. She decides to go to your best friend on the team for advice.

“You got a second?” Natasha asks, knocking on Wanda’s open doorframe.

“Oh,” the girl is caught off guard. She doesn’t spend much time talking to Nat aside from about missions. “Sure.”

Natasha walks in and closes the door behind her. She sits down at Wanda’s desk across from where the girl sits on her bed.

“Is everything okay?” Wanda asks.

Natasha doesn’t immediately assure her it is and she gets worried. “So, I got y/n for secret santa.”

Wanda’s tenseness goes away and she can’t help a little smirk forming as Nat is talking.

“And I know she has things on this list,” she says. “But I don’t think a single one of these things is good enough for her. I don’t know what I should get for her, but she deserves the best gift.”

“Natasha,” Wanda interjects. “You’re taking this way too seriously.”

“Oh,” Nat expresses. “She- well she loves Christmas, right? I saw how excited she’s been about the tree and then the secret Santa and the movies. All of it. I want it to be special for her.”

“That’s really sweet,” Wanda says. “You like her, huh.”

“Can you help me?” Natasha keeps the focus on the conversation at hand. She does like you though.

“Of course. Anything for y/n.”

“Thank you,” Natasha says, feeling the relief set in.

The two brainstorm ideas for a couple of hours. When Wanda shows late for your usual nightly dinner, she wears a grin.

“What?” You ask her. “Fun with Vision?”

Wanda chuckles and you share a laugh with her.

“Who’d you get for Secret Santa?” You ask her.

“I can’t tell you,” she says.

“Sure you can.”

“Who’d you get?” She counters.

“I can’t tell you.”

“Sure you can,” she mocks you.

The rest of the days leading up to Christmas go by fast. Unfortunately everyone had to go on a mission on Christmas Eve, so you’re all exhausted on Christmas Day morning.

Tony postponed the gift exchange until later in the day, and everyone is much more rested by then.

Even with the hustle and bustle, you notice Natasha hasn’t made it to the get together yet.

“Hey Clint, where’s Nat?” You ask the archer. He was working closely with her on the mission.

“I think she just needed to take some time alone.”

“Oh, okay.”

You go about the party for a few more minutes before deciding to go check on Natasha.

You go to her room and knock on the door. She takes a minute to answer, but finally the door opens to reveal a distressed Natasha.

Her hair is messy and she’s wearing a hoodie and sweatpants. You haven’t seen her this way before.

“Hey,” you say. “We missed you down there.”

“Sorry,” she says. “Uh, come in.”

Her room is clean and exactly like you expected it. There are a few photos of Natasha and Clint’s family on a dresser, but that’s really the extent of the decor.

“Are you okay?” You ask her.

“Yeah, just a bad mission.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Nat says. “It’s a me problem.”

“Hey, we’re teammates. And- we’re friends. It’s an us problem.”

Natasha can’t help but smile a little at that. You make her feel better by just being here.

“I don’t think I’m in the party mood. The guys aren’t so sensitive to my feelings.”

“Hey, that’s alright. I’ll just take your gift if you want me to. I’ll make sure it gets to the right person,” you explain.

“Oh, actually I had you. And I didn’t get a gift off of your list.”

Your eyes go wide. You didn’t even consider that Nat would get you. Thinking back to your list, you hope she didn’t find anything you wrote down as lame.

“Not because they were bad ideas. It’s just- I wanted to do something more meaningful,” she reads your mind.

Natasha crosses the room and grabs a box out of her closet. It’s wrapped nicely.

“You wrapped that?” You ask.

“You seem surprised,” Nat jokes. “I have skills.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” you say before blushing a bit. She smirks.

She hands you the box and you sit down on the edge of her bed together to open it. Nat watches you shyly as you open the gift.

“Natasha,” you whisper as you reveal the gift.

It’s a beautiful locket necklace.

“Open it,” she says.

On the inside of the locket, there’s a photo of your family. Your favorite photo to be exact.

“How did you-“

“Wanda helped,” Nat says. “I know you’ve been missing home since you joined the Avengers. I thought you’d want to have a piece of them with you on missions.”

“Natasha, that’s- well that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” you say, fighting back tears.

“You like it then?”

“I love it. Thank you,” you say sincerely. “Will you put it on me?”

Nat nods and takes the necklace from your hands. She unclasps it and stands behind you to put it around your neck. Her hands are gentle as she clasps the necklace and brushes against your skin.

“Beautiful,” she says when you stand and face her.

“You are, yeah,” you surprise her by saying. You dare to reach out for her hand. She takes it easily and interlocks your fingers. “I wish I got you something.”

“Oh, I think you just gave me the best gift,” Natasha says.

“I did?”

“Mhm,” she confirms. “Come here.”

Natasha leans in, pulling you closer to her with the hand that’s free by the back of your neck. Her gentle hand from before has a bit more urgency.

You can’t help but smile as she kisses your lips. Finally, both of you think. Finally.

“Merry Christmas, y/n,” Natasha says when she breaks for air.

“Merry Christmas, Natasha.”

It doesn’t take long before you add a photo of Natasha to the other side of your locket. She’s with you always. Right beside your heart.

[nukacoola]

Deacon's dislike and hate talks are my favorite of any companion in fo4 because they're so unique and it's such a great look into his character.

In his first talk he really tries to get through to you. He tries to explain in a non-aggressive, even complimentary, manner why he hasn't been liking what you've been doing lately. Depending on what you say he basically babies you.

In his second talk is when he shows a hint of anger which I find super interesting because Deacon rarely shows anger. Even when you do things he hates he either won't say anything or will make a sarcastic comment about how he disagrees with what you did. I can only think of three times genuine anger/frustration is shown from him: this talk, starting the kill-the-Railroad quest for the Brotherhood, and his talk for when you murder someone which was cut from the game. He only has anger in his voice at the very beginning of the 2nd talk. Then it fades, showing that he's suppressing it or calming himself down.

But the main reason I am so fascinated by this talk is because he is the only companion (besides Strong) who you can not convince to give you one last chance. There's no option, no orange or red skill check. If you ask him to stay he says, "Not gonna happen. Sorry."

Where most companions will leave on bad terms after their second (or third if you convince them to stay) talk, Deacon says "We'll be seeing each other a lot, and I'm not one to hold grudges. Just remember, we're trying to help people, not make the garbage dump stink even more." And then leaves on distant coworker terms. In both talks (at least to me) he feels notably distant in the way he speaks to you. He already has his walls up and he tries to explain to you what the problem is before realizing in his second talk it was a useless venture.

Throughout both talks he compares you to Glory which is a whole other interesting topic (especially taking into account a tense conversation you can hear between Desdemona and Glory if you hang around Railroad HQ long enough).

I just love him.

[cosmicbucky]

daisies and dances lead to heartfelt romances

summary: you offer to take bucky out a few times so he can practice what it's like to date in the modern world. unbeknownst to each other, both your offer and his acceptance have an ulterior motive

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3845

part: one

warnings: minor swearing, fluff, tony is a dick with a hidden agenda, some angst, soft/shy/grumpy bucky, pet names/nicknames, unknown but mutual pining, oblivious idiots in love, sad bucky, mentions of bucky's struggles

a/n: this is planned to be at least two parts, maybe three.

big thank you to @buckys-wintersoldier for encouraging and supporting me with this!!

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

The compound was quiet, softly lit to guide your way to the kitchen. It was late in the night, but not too late that everyone was asleep. Your socked feet were silent on the cold floor, and as you made your way to the fridge you heard laughter coming from the main entertainment room. You smiled to yourself as you went to grab a bottle of juice, focusing in on the conversation being held.

"Come on man! You can't be serious," you heard Sam say, laughter clear in his voice.

"Just drop it, Sam," Bucky replied, warning clear in his voice.

The smile slipped from your face as you closed the fridge with a sigh. You knew that tone. It wasn't Bucky's patented 'my god these people are so annoying' tone. It was his 'the next person who says something is getting thrown into a wall' tone. Which meant he was actually upset over whatever the conversation was about. It was rare for him to really get worked up beyond his usual moody demeanor, and you couldn't help the worry that surged through you.

"Oh, no. No, no this is way too good to drop, Barnes," Tony chimed in with a laugh. You could just picture the smirk on his face, and your feet moved quickly to carry yourself towards the conversation.

Bucky noticed you approach from where he sat, and he sent you a pleading look. Please help me, his eyes screamed.

"Don't tell me you guys are picking on Bucky again," you said, trying to sound casual as you leaned against the wall.

"You mean grumpy mcgee over here? You bet your ass we are," Tony replied happily.

You sighed, rolling your eyes at him. "Why now?"

"This dude can't date to save his life!" Sam spoke up, overly amused about it.

Bucky sank further into the couch, crossing his arms over his chest as he zoned out to somewhere far away, and you felt a pang in your heart at the sight- how can such a large man manage to look so small; so defeated?

"You guys are roasting him because he hasn't been on a date yet?" you asked, your annoyance about it clear in your voice.

It may be a little strange, but you had always felt protective over Bucky. The team often ganged up on him, and besides Steve, you were his closest friend - the two of you took a little while to warm up to each other, but once the ice thawed the two of you were rarely seen without the other. Now, it's not to say you never joined in on teasing him - because you did, quite often - but you knew when to stop. Perhaps it was because he would open up to you about some of the things he felt insecure about during your moonlit talks, the two of you tucked safely under blankets or hidden away somewhere in the compound as you spoke what neither of you could say in the light of day. Or, maybe it was because you just knew him well enough to know whether a topic would upset him or not. Whatever the reason may be for it, you always knew what was okay to say and what wasn't. Bucky would never be able to say how much he appreciated you for that.

"Tinman's been on dates, didn't you know?" Tony asked, grinning at you mischievously. "He just blew them all."

You tried not to let the hurt show on your face. He's been on dates? God, of course he has, look at him.

"Okay, and? You've never had bad dates before?" you asked, letting the anger start to shine through. "Just leave him alone."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Awe, look at that. Mommy dearest to the rescue once again, huh, Barnes?"

You stood up straight as rage surged through you, opening your mouth to tell him where to go. Before you could, Bucky's voice rang out: "Watch your fucking mouth, Stark. Or I'll shut you up myself," he warned, voice eerily calm as he glared at Tony.

Bucky was never really one to speak up when others came at him, more or less just taking it with an eye roll, clenched jaw, or tight smile as they all had their fun. However, once the comments turned towards you, as they always seemed to if you were around (and let's be honest, how often were you not around?), he was quick on his feet to stop them in their tracks, making the room feel so tense that no one else said anything for fear the air around them would actually suffocate them if they opened their mouth.

"Here we go again," you heard Sam mutter to himself. "Alright, I'm out of here. See you guys later," he added, walking out of the room with his hands up in a display of surrender.

He gave you a knowing look as he walked out, ignoring your questioning gaze and instead giving you a loving pat on the shoulder as he passed by. With him now out of sight, you turn your attention back to Tony, waiting for what was to come next.

"Look, all I'm saying-" Tony started, waving his glass around emphatically - amber liquid on the verge of splashing everywhere.

"No one cares what you're saying, Tony," you interrupted, already exasperated from the interaction.

He held up his hand, pointing a finger at you. "Come on, princess. You really gonna take away my fun? Under my own roof?"

"Yes, I am. Can't you take a day off from being a complete dick to him? Just once? We've all seen this show before, Tony, and it always ends the same way," you said, walking further into the room to snatch the glass from his hand, glaring at him as you did so. "And don't call me princess," you seethed, slamming the glass down on the side table behind you.

You didn't want to hate Tony, in all honesty you truly did love him. At the end of the day he was your family, and family wasn't perfect. However, you couldn't keep down the small bubbles of hatred that boiled inside you whenever he started to target Bucky. You didn't see him as family when he waved his disdain for the soldier around like a kite in the wind; you just saw him as a rich douchebag picking on someone beneath him. You hated the way he treated Bucky, and you absolutely loathed the way he made Bucky's voice tremble ever so slightly with self doubt when he lays in your arms in the dead of night, recounting the things Tony said to him that keep him awake, that make old wounds reopen. You loved Tony, but his hatred for Bucky also made you hate him.

"No? Do you only like it when RoboCop calls you that?" Tony asked calmly, a malicious glint shining in his eyes, his smirk growing wider when he saw your expression. 

You felt the blood rush to your face, recounting a few of the times that the name had slipped through Bucky's lips; though it was from the haze of sleep and moments of vulnerability, there were few memories you cherished more. "Go to sleep now, princess. I'll be here when you wake up." "Thank you for staying with me, princess." "You're safe now, princess." 

"Yeah, I hear a lot of things around here that I probably shouldn't. Now, why don't you lighten up and let me say my piece, princess?" Tony continued with a grin, and it took everything in you to not smack it off his face.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you," Bucky suddenly spat, making you jump slightly - he had fallen so silent you half forgot he was even there. The menace that dripped from his words sent a chill down your spine, and you sent one last glare at Tony before you glanced over your shoulder.

One look over at Bucky as he jumped from the couch told you he had never been more serious. His jaw was tight as his lips pressed together in a fine line, his fists clenched so tightly that the mechanisms in his left arm started to whir and the veins in his right arm shone prominently, his whole body tense as his chest heaved. He took two quick steps forward, but the second you raised your hand to his chest he stopped.

"Buck, it's alright," you said calmly. You knew it wasn't - you were angry, hurt, embarrassed, and a million other things; but you couldn't let Bucky in on that. You had to brush it all off so you could be the calm that Bucky needed in order to tame the never ending storm raging furiously inside him.

Bucky looked down at you with narrowed eyes, as if he didn't understand a word you said. "I'm supposed to just let him talk to you like that?"

If it weren't for the seriousness of the moment, you would have blushed from his words. Instead, you huffed and lightly shoved him away. "Yes, because you're feeding into exactly what he wants, Bucky. You know all he wants is to mess with you."

"Not true," Tony chimed in from behind you. "I want lots of things, pumpkin. In fact, one of those things is Pepper, so I'll be going now. And hey, when you and soldier boy here finally get married, just remember - I'm ordained."

You spared a glance in his direction just in time to see his shit-eating grin before he turned and sauntered happily out of the room.

"Can you two ever give me a fucking break?" you scolded, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Aw don't you start now, too," Bucky whined, tossing his head back slightly as he sighed, making his way back to the couch.

You sighed as well, following in his wake to plop down beside him. You didn't need to say anything, he took one look at you and knew the question that was already dancing on your tongue: what was it about this time?

"Look, it doesn't matter," he huffed out, slumping his shoulders as he looked down at his hands resting on his lap, wringing his fingers together. 

“Come on, when have I ever let it go that easily?” you asked, nudging his shoulder. 

He let out a humourless chuckle, the corners of his mouth flicking upwards for the briefest of moments as the memories of the countless times you two have been in this situation flashed through his mind. 

You could see the turmoil on his face, and you knew he was trying to find a way to express what was going on, so you sat patiently and waited for him to find the proper words. 

“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing,” he finally settled on, the words coming out in a rushed breath. 

Before you could question him, he carried on with a frown, his brows knit together. “It was so much easier back then, you know? Flash a smile, go to the fair, wear the uniform, whatever. I never had to think about it, but now there’s- there’s just so much…. so much expectation. You bring flowers and you care too much, you don’t bring flowers and you don’t care enough. I-it’s like everything that I do, I should have done the opposite. I can’t get anything right.”

You sat in silence for a moment, his words bouncing around in your head. Each syllable he spoke fractured your heart until it was shattered into bits; but all you cared about as you looked at the broken man in front of you was putting him back together, hoping that your words and your comfort and your care would be enough to put together the delicate pieces of him - the pieces that broke off every time he doubted himself, every time he remembered his past, every time he did something wrong on a mission - the pieces that you picked up and kept safe inside of yourself until you had the chance to give them back to him, gluing them on with whispers of affirmation and promises that everything would be okay in time.

“You never mentioned any of this before,” you said tentatively, the unspoken words why did you keep this from me? hanging in the air. “Is this what they were teasing you about? Your struggle to figure out how to date again?”

He let out a huff of air as he slung his head back to rest against the back of the couch, shaking it lightly as he stared up at the ceiling, his jaw flexing with contemplation. “I didn’t want it to be a big deal, but then Jackass 1 and Jackass 2 found out and ran with it.”

“Okay, well.. walk me through it. Is there someone you want to take out on a date right now? Maybe I can give you some ideas,” you offered softly, the words tasting bitter in your mouth as you spoke them. 

He groaned, running his hands over his face before smacking them back down on his legs, his palms dragging across the fabric covering his thighs for a few seconds; a habit, you noticed, that he often did when he was nervous or uncomfortable. “No,” he said flatly, biting down on his tongue to keep the words yes, my delicate little flower, I want to take you out on a date from tumbling out of his mouth. 

“No?” you echoed, surprised by the response. 

He nodded his head in confirmation. “No,” he repeated, looking at you. Taking in your expression, he carried on. “Like, no there isn’t anyone. I don’t- I didn’t even want to go on those dates, but… I couldn’t- I mean, I kinda just…. felt like I needed to."

There was so much he left unsaid at this moment. So much he wanted to say, needed to say - not only just to get it off his chest, but because he believed that you deserved to know. Every time he looked at you he had the burning desire to bare his soul to you, to tell you all the things he kept buried away in the deep recesses of his mind, locked away in a vault only you could open. He wanted to tell you that he still feels so out of place, that most days when he was out in this new world he suddenly resembled a child who was lost amongst a crowd of scary and unfamiliar things - desperately searching for something he recognized that he could cling to. He wanted to tell you that you were the familiar thing he found to cling to, that he carried you in his head and in his heart every time he was out; that when things got too overwhelming he closed his eyes and recalled the encouraging words you always told him, that when that wasn't enough he called you with some lame excuse just so he could ground himself with your voice - "Hey, doll. What was the name of that bakery you took me to the other week? I'm thinking of getting more of those cookies we liked." He had saved the bakery's location to his phone (something he knew how to do thanks to you) the second he saw how your eyes sparkled when you got there, just to make sure he could always find it and pick things up for you. "Hey, so, I just got yelled at because I walked by and ruined someone's… what the fuck was it? It has to do with a clock or something? Does that sound like something you know? Please tell me what the hell that is because I feel like I'm going insane." He knew what it was. He had downloaded the app after he witnessed how much it made you laugh, and he had an endless amount of saved videos that he thought you would like, but for some reason wasn't brave enough to show you. "Okay, I’m out shopping - and don't laugh because this is a serious question - do you think I would look good in pink?" He vividly remembered your words from a few months ago, when he was burritoed in your fuzzy pink blanket during movie night, and you told him so casually that he should start wearing pink because it complimented his eyes. He wanted to tell you that you were the only thing in this universe that could still the incessant maelstrom that was his mind. That when he was out on those dates the storm raged on more intensely than ever, but one look or word from you and everything was quiet; not even a trace of rain. 

He wanted to tell you. But he didn't. He couldn't. He wouldn't. Oh, but he needed to- 

"You wanted to try to fit in," your gentle voice pulled him from his thoughts, his head snapping to look at you. To see your eyes, full of understanding. To see your lips, pulled into a sad smile - but not one of pity, one that said all you wanted was to help him through yet another battle he was fighting with himself.

"Yeah," he sighed. "Yeah. I guess I just figured.. well, I don't know. Everyone kept saying how I needed to get out there. That dating was the next best step I could take to try and….. to- to understand how to live in this world better. I just wanted things to make sense again, but now I'm even more lost and confused than before I even went on those god damn dates."

You tried to keep your face even, to not let him see how sad it made you to hear the way his voice wavered when he told you what was going on. To not let him know that you sensed how small he was feeling, how even though his broad frame still shadowed you as you both sat there, he had never seemed so small.

"Well…. take me on a date," you suggested, not taking the time to even think about it. 

Bucky swore the whole room started to spin. His mouth ran dry and his heart hammered so heavily in his chest that he was convinced you could hear it. He knew he heard you wrong, he wasn't lucky enough to have a girl like you. The world was cruel, and he knew that the one sliver of hope that he had for a truly blissful life would never be fully his. That one day it would leave him, just like everything else throughout the years, as you found yourself in the arms of someone else. He would never have you the way he wanted you, the way he needed you. He knew that. So he had to have misheard you. "Come again?" 

Your whole face lit up when he asked this, and Bucky could feel himself coming undone. Your hands on his arm when you grabbed him in excitement suddenly felt so different than in the past. It used to feel warm, comforting, calming; but for some reason this time it sent a jolt of fire and electricity through him, and he never wanted to lose that feeling. He wanted to feel it again, feel it always, feel it forever. 

“Yeah! Oh, it would be great, Buck! We can go on a few dates, and I can help you find your footing with it all before you get back out there,” you said excitedly. You purposely overinflated your smile so he wouldn’t see the way your lips faltered with the struggle of getting out the last part, diverting your gaze for the smallest of moments so he wouldn’t see the way your eyes dimmed with the thought of him being with someone else. 

Bucky shifted where he sat, opening and closing his mouth a few times as his mind went into overdrive trying to think of a response. Every fiber of his being was screaming at him to say yes, but then there was a small piece of him that knew it wouldn’t end well - the piece that knew how he truly felt about you, the piece that knew it would easily be tricked into thinking these dates actually meant something to you; because lord knows they would mean the world and more to him. Bucky wanted to say yes, but he knew he had to say no. He had to say no because it wouldn’t be fair to you - you were offering to help him and he would be taking advantage of your kindness, using it to get to see you in a light he’d never be able to otherwise. He had to say no because saying yes could ruin everything. He may not be able to go back to the way it was before these dates, too addicted to ever quit you. He had to say no, for your sake, because it was a selfless offer. Bucky, however, was selfish when it came to you. 

“You know, doll… that may not be the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” he had said, giving you a lopsided smile. Your eyes lit up once more as you grinned at him, and no matter how hard he tried to keep his composure he couldn’t help but mirror your expression, feeling as giddy as he did the first time he was allowed to stay up late as a kid. 

“Excellent choice, Barnes,” you said playfully. “I swear you won’t regret it, it’ll be really fun. Just you and me, no expectations.”

Bucky nodded, shifting his head to scratch his jaw so you wouldn’t see the light frown that danced across his lips for a moment. “No expectations,” he repeated, careful to keep his voice level. “I can work with that.”

“Good,” you said softly, nodding a little. “I’ll give you some time to think about it and plan something, and you can just let me know whenever you wanna go on date number one.”

He was silent for a minute, taking the time to carefully churn the words over in his mind before answering. He didn’t want to make it obvious, but he knew immediately what he wanted to do. How could he not? All he ever did was look for new things he thinks you’d like, find himself dreaming of where he’d take you if he ever got the chance. Sure, you guys have done lots of things together before - brunches, lunches, dinners, movie nights, events, parties; you name it. Though there was never any meaning with any of those, it was always just friends spending time together. How were either of you supposed to know you each wished they meant something more? Heaven forbid you two would actually say how you felt.

"No need," Bucky said, rising from the couch with a small chuckle, looking down at you with the smile he reserved only for you. The one that skillfully said everything and nothing all at once. “Lunch. Tomorrow.”

[daisyblog]

You, Me and Baby

Young Love Masterlist Summary: Louis and YN discover they’re going to have a baby, but YN’s parents are far from pleased.

warning: highly sensitive topics, positive pregnancy test, pregnancy, mentions of abortion, emotional abuse, swearing, arguing, shouting

The bright shining sun teased her through the window as she waited patiently for the time to be up. YN’s heart thumped against her chest, as her eyes stared at the plastic stick sat on her bedside table.

Her period was 7 days late, and as much as she blamed hormones, stress and “it’ll come tomorrow”, YN knew she needed to take a pregnancy test just to rule out one of the main reasons her period still hadn’t made an appearance.

YN felt her chest take a deep breath as she prepared herself to turn over the test, the weight felt heavy on her shoulders. She debated if she should have told Louis but after arguing with herself, she decided she to do it by herself.

The shaky fingers reached for the white plastic that determined her future. She closed her eyes as she turned it over. Waiting for her breath to calm, she opened her eyes with force and there sat the answer.

Two pink lines.

YN feels her chest tighten as her heart beats against hit with a thud. Of course she had considered the possibility of her being pregnant but part of her believed her period was just late.

She wasn’t sure how long she had been staring at the two lines, her phone had been pinging next to her. She knew it was Louis and her friends. They had planned to hang out that afternoon. Knowing they were probably waiting for her, she placed the test and box in her bedroom bin and decided she would hide it later on before her parents got home.

---

YN tried to put a smile on her face throughout the afternoon as they all went to grab some lunch, before heading over to Ella’s house. But Louis knew YN better than she realised, he noticed how much quieter she was. He saw when she pushed the food around her plate, hardly eating anything. He knew she was faking her smile as she chatted to Ella and Hannah from across the table. Louis quickly made up an excuse that he needed to go home and help with his sisters, YN giving him a grateful smile knowing it was her way out of the gathering too,

Trying to find a quiet moment to tell Louis, was very hard to come by in the Tomlinson house. YN loved spending time at Louis, the chaos and the love was enough to warm her heart. She loved that although Louis was seventeen, he would still play the childish games with his sisters and watching as he helped Phoebe and Daisy with their building blocks, she couldn’t help but think that the baby she was currently carrying inside her may be luckiest little one to have such a loving father.

YN tried to pluck up the courage, knowing she had to tell Louis soon because she could feel it threaten to spill at any moment. “Lou…can we-“.

“Louis..YN…come and have a look at our dance show!”. Lottie ran into the lounge, interrupting the teenagers. But how could they say no.

Time was nearing where YN had to leave to go back home. She still hadn’t got the chance to tell Louis but the longer it was going on, the harder it was to start the conversation.

The sound of knocking could be heard from the living area but neither thought anything of it as Jay went to answer it.

“Where is he? Did you know about this?”. The sound of her father’s voice bellowing caught YN’s ears.

Without thought Louis and YN went into the hallway to see what the shouting was about. “Carl…if you’ll calm down…whatever is going on we can talk about this”. Jay’s motherly voice was a comfort to YN when she could see the anger covering her father’s face.

“Me calm down? I’m not fucking calming down! Do you know how angry me and Emma are right now? I’ll tell you how angry…fucking furious!”. Carl’s voice and anger continued to escalate.

YN stood slightly behind Louis, embarrassed at the show her father was putting on right now. “Dad! Please!”. She gulped down the nerves, knowing how silly she had been leaving the pregnancy test in clear view.

His angry eyes snapped to see YN and Louis stood there. “You!” He pointed at Louis, trying to take a step forward only for Jay to place her arm to stop him. “You…you’ve ruined our lives! You-”. Louis protectively stood in front of YN, have stood behind him, their hands still secured in each others.

Jay had been calm since the moment Carl had began shouting but when it came to her children, she would not tolerate it. “Excuse me! You don’t talk to anyone like that…especially my son! That’s my son you’re talking to and I will not have it!”.

Carl let out a sarcastic breath with a fake chuckle. “Well I hate to break it to you darling but your precious little son has got my daughter pregnant!”.

YN could feel Louis tense as her father revealed what she had been hiding. She knew this was the moment that she was left just her and the little baby they had created. She could feel the tears burn her eyes, her heart thumped deep in her body.

“I’m sorry”. YN whispered for Louis to hear as she rested her head against his tense back. He remained still in his spot, silent as the words sunk in but his fingers rubbing her hand was the tiny bit of reassurance she needed in that moment.

“You are a vile and disgusting man!”. Jay spoke up, breaking the silence that surrounded the four of them. “You come to my house…shout, swear and scream when I have four young children sleeping upstairs…you threaten my son and humiliate your own daughter…you should be ashamed of yourself!”.

Louis and YN still stood in the exact same spot, watching the scene in front of them unfold. YN had been hurt by her parents for as long as she could remember but the next few words her father spoke stung.

“I’m ashamed that she is my daughter and got knocked up at seventeen…she’s humiliated us!”. His voice was full of hatred and the look of disgust on his face said a million words. “You get rid of that baby or you’re out on the streets!”.

“Get out of my house now before I call the police!”. Jay’s motherly instincts when into overdrive. “You don’t deserve a daughter like YN…and don’t come near my son and YN again!”. Jay slammed the front door shut, before turning to look at Louis and YN. “Cup of tea anyone?”.

---

With cups of tea in each of their hands, the three of them sat in the lounge area. YN couldn’t think properly at the moment. From finding out she was pregnant this morning, to not having a home anymore was a lot to process.

“I’m really sorry you had to find out that way”. YN didn’t look up from her hands that held the beige mug. “I’ve tried to find a way all day to tell you”.

“You don’t have to be sorry babe, I’m just shocked…I wasn’t expecting it”. Louis gently spoke from next to her. Jay listened from her seat, feeling so proud at how mature her son was being and it was in that moment that she knew she had raised him well. “We’re in this together, yeah?”.

YN couldn’t find the words but a small nodded was all she could manage as she looked up at Louis.

“YN?”. Her eyes followed Jay’s voice. “You have a home here and I’m with you both every step of the way…you’re part of this family!”.

Taglist:

@ell0ra-br3kk3r @slaymybreathaway @wh0s-nadii

[x-gabrielle-x]

Interlinked

Pairings: Mattheo Riddle x Reader.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, major character death, blood, war.

Summary: Mattheo Riddle was hated by most, yet you saw more in him than what most could.

Mattheo Riddle knew that he wasn't the most approachable person out there, especially when more than half of the school referred to him as his father's son.

Besides his small group of close friends, anybody else was just another thorn in his side. He had come to learn that despite keeping his distance and reserved personality, he was still seen to be just like his father.

So of course, it was a shock to everybody when you had chosen to sit beside him in potions class away from your usual group of friends.

You hadn't said anything to him, merely sparing him a quick glance and small smile before you were placing your things down quietly onto the desk. He could see your friends in the corner of his eye gawking at you from across the room and silently waving you back over, one of them even going as far to call out to you, yet you paid them no mind and picked up your quill, scribbling down the notes written on the board before the professor continued on with the lesson.

He felt his gaze linger on you longer than he would've liked to admit, brows furrowed before he chose to let the silence thicken.

Mattheo knew then and there that this wouldn't be the last interaction he'd have with you.

It went on like this for a few more days. You coming into class and sitting directly beside him, showing him your bright smile that he desperately wished to hate despite the small warmth it gave him. At this point it became regular routine, and if you ever happened to be late for class Mattheo would ensure that your seat was kept empty.

It was a silent agreement between the two of you.

So once again when Mattheo caught himself staring at your bored expression in class, your head propped up onto the palm of your hand, he decided that for the first time it was time to break the silence.

"Not taking any notes today?" He couldn't help to hide the growing grin on his face when your head nearly snapped toward him, eyes wide as if you were checking that he was in fact talking to you.

You leant back further into your seat, shrugging as you turned to fully acknowledge him whilst also being discreet from the Professor as to not get caught.

"I'm just not really in the mood for it, I guess," you shrugged, giving him a small smile. "It's pretty basic stuff, anyways," you added.

He grinned once again, although this time he put no effort into hiding it. "Of course, one of the best students in class calls it 'basic.'"

He didn’t fail to notice the way your eyes lingered on his smile. He never smiled, really. Maybe the occasional half lipped smile to his few friends he had, but to you, it felt natural. Meaningful.

"It could be basic to you too, if you took notes and gave the lesson your full attention," you teased him, nodding to the board.

"Unfortunately, my attention is elsewhere.”

You rolled your eyes, and despite your attempt at hiding it, Mattheo noticed the obvious blush dusting your cheeks when he flashed you one last smile.

In truth, Mattheo wasn't awful at potions class at all. In fact, he found it to be one of his best subjects. He would never admit that to you, though. Not if it meant that you could continue to tease him about it.

The both of you quickly went silent when Professor Snape turned your way, eyeing mainly Mattheo for a second before he continued to pester poor Neville about what chapter to read from.

Small conversations would be thrown back and forth between the two of you, and Mattheo being himself, of course threw in many flirtatious comments, addicted to the way you'd attempt to change topic and hide the nervousness from him.

It didn't take long for him to realize he was craving for your attention every chance he could get. He found himself looking for you in the corridors and in the main hall when he happened to be walking with his friends, and it didn't fail to go unnoticed by them when his usual bored demeanor would instantly change when talking to you.

You would catch his attention with a bright smile and wave, before your friends were quickly pushing you away to giggle about the situation.

After practically begging you to help him study for the upcoming potions test, despite him not needing the help, he was insistent on getting to spend more time with you.

When you were both sat in the library with the few books you had brought over, Mattheo found himself watching as you concentrated hard on what you were explaining to him, with your brows furrowed and your eyes darting along each printed word on the page. Only it didn't last long when you suddenly closed the book and looked at him expectantly.

"You could at least pretend to be a little more interested, Riddle," you had teased when you discovered he hadn't been listening to you, earning a small chuckle from the boy sat across from you.

"Would it be a surprise to you that something else had taken my interest?" was all he said, watching you closely for a reaction. He caught the slight blush dusting your cheeks.

"You're funny, Riddle." You quickly turned away from him and picked up your book, opening to a random page to save you from the embarrassment of his words. You knew that he had you wrapped around his finger, and he loved it.

Christmas holidays had come, and of course the two of you were sad to go. The many bickering conversations and your smile would have to wait until next year.

"I'll send owls whenever I can, I better get some back, Riddle," you had said, throwing one of your jumpers into your bag as Mattheo sat watching from the common room couch.

He rolled his eyes at the comment, as if it were impossible to do so. "You'll be missing me that much, Princess?"

He caught you halting your movement, and you looked at him.

"Would it be a boost to your ego if I admitted I would miss you?"

He pretended to ponder, but he couldn't hide the grin on his face. "Not entirely sure, I guess were going to find out."

You rolled your eyes once more and zipped up your bag. "Then if it makes you feel better, I will miss you, Mattheo."

Nothing felt it had sunk in until you were stood on the platform to the train, Mattheo at your side and bags in hand. You would both be going to your homes, and the several months of friendship the two of you had built together would not make it easy for the next few to come.

Your father had insisted to pick you up himself, claiming he couldn't wait long enough for the train to arrive. Unfortunately, this would mean Mattheo would go by train alone.

So, when the both of you were saying your final goodbyes, of course it had surprised him to feel your lips press against the corner of his mouth.

You patted his cheek twice, to which he just silently gawked at you.

"See you soon, Theo," you smiled before turning away to find your father who was waiting somewhere nearby.

He watched you walk off, and without another thought he was turning on his heel and stepping on to the train.

Then he was gone.

Mattheo never sent a letter, and the months seemed to drag on the longer you waited. Every day you would run outside of your family home to check the mail, expecting, hoping, to see that he finally sent you a message. You couldn't deny the embarrassment every time you opened the mailbox to see it empty. Your hope was fading, but still, there was the smallest tinge of hope left deep in you.

You thought that maybe you were overthinking things too much. He did say he had plans for the holidays, after all. Your owl would wait by the window ready for you to clip another letter to her neck once again and fly off the moment you opened the window. No matter how many times you would send a letter, deep down you knew you wouldn't receive one back.

When school was finally about to start up again the coming week, you were beyond excited to see Mattheo again, despite the fact of his lack of letters. You were sure there was a reasonable explanation!

As he sat in one of the carriages in the train, his eyes zoned out of the window and watching the fog clouding the terrain, his memories flooded back in and for a moment he swore he felt a sharp sting on his forearm. Glancing down at the Dark Mark printed pure black, he remembers the exact moment his father had pressed the tip of his wand to his flesh and the searing pain that followed.

He felt as if the holidays had been the slowest they'd ever been. Being stuck in the same building as the Dark Lord feels like that, he concluded.

He was drawn away from his thoughts when he heard the carriage door slide open, and he wasn't surprised to see your face peeking in through the door with your usual smile, only it was brighter than he'd ever seen it.

Despite him not sending you letters; you were beyond happy to see him again.

Ignoring your excitement, you met his gaze and gestured to the seat across from him. "Mind if I sit with you?"

Truthfully, he wished for some alone time to dwell on his thoughts. He didn't need you or anybody else trying to strike up conversation with him, especially after he had been mostly ignoring your letters and leaving them stranded in piles upon his desk. The slight annoyance began to bubble in his chest, yet he gave a curt nod and continued to stare out the window.

You seemed to have caught onto his behavior, the awkwardness settling in once you closed the door behind you and watched in silence.

Your mind was swarming with questions you desperately wished to ask him - What did he do during the holidays? Why was he acting like this? Did he miss you?

You inhaled a breath before asking the question you had been craving to ask the most.

"You never sent me any letters over the holidays?" You regretted mentioning it the moment the words slipped your lips, and you bit the inside of your cheek when you heard a deep inhale come from Mattheo.

"Things get busy," was all he said, and the pang in your chest that followed caused for you to try think of anything else. He refused to look at you, and that only made the pang worsen.

"Oh, that's alright," you nodded, teeth pressing deeper into the skin of your bottom lip. "What did you do over your holidays?"

Mattheo shrugged, and you wished that he could just meet your eye the longer he stared blankly out the window.

"Nothing of much importance."

His bluntness to you confused you. Never had Mattheo attempted to be so short and bored with you, even when you were both at the awkward stage of just becoming friends. You took it as a sign to sit in silence the rest of the train ride back to Hogwarts, feigning it'll be back to normal once you're both settled into the regular routine again.

The longer the days passed at Hogwarts, the more Mattheo found himself hating your presence. You were always there - always following him like a lost puppy or trying to strike up conversation. He didn't want you here. Not at the moment. He couldn't.

You didn't fail to realize this either, firstly it being small things like the previous conversation on the train a few weeks ago. But then you found that Mattheo was physically avoiding you, changing seats to be on the opposite side of the class, leaving the dining hall whenever you attempted to sit with the rest of your friends. He never saved your seats anymore; even going as far as to make sure he was sat between other classmates to avoid you being near him.

You did miss him, but you also weren't one to push boundaries. Especially when it came to somebody you cared about as much as him.

You had tried to give him space, tried to give him time to come to you, but your own emotions were clouding, and you just wanted your old Mattheo. You had made sure to find Mattheo when he was alone, gently tugging on his arm and pleading for him to talk to you.

"Can't you just fuck off already? I don't need you here. You're a constant pain, how don't you see that?! I thought you would have gotten the hint ages ago!" He'd practically screamed in your face, and you had never felt more mortified than you did right now.

"Thats not what I'm trying to do at all, Theo-"

"You need to leave me the fuck alone, Y/N!"

He hated you. He hated you for making him feel this way. It was your fault. for making him care about anything in the first place, and it was your fault that he despised you for it. And most of all, he hated you for making him love you.

He could never forget the look on your face when he stood beside his father at the war, the tears seeming as if they were rivers along your dirty cheeks, cuts littering your body. Despite all that, in your pain seeing him, he still wondered how you had managed to stay beautiful even in these circumstances. Even with the blood from your wounds, you seemed like the brightest person here.

He so desperately wished to reach out a brush away the bloodied strands of hair away from your face, to apologies for everything. He couldn't stand the way your heartbroken gaze was practically burning into his soul.

Then the flash of green and a heavy thud echoed.

He hadn't even registered the war around him as he darted forward, tripping over his own legs as he dropped to his knees and cradled your body. He couldn't even hear his own wails and sobs over the screaming of his classmates.

He wished he hadn't looked down to the sight of you in his arms, because as soon as he did, he felt as if he had been stabbed in the chest. Your body was limp against him, your head lulled back to which he carefully readjusted his body to keep his arm supporting your neck. He could barely see with the tears cascading down his face and blurring his vision - some even dropping down onto your cheek and rolling off the slopes of your jaw. He quickly whipped it off with his thumb.

This couldn't be how you last remembered him, could it? He was pressing his forehead to your cold one the longer the seconds passed.

"You’re not leaving me, Princess, ok?" he was mumbling to you in your ear despite his sobbing. Deep down he knew you were gone, but the lingering hope that you'd flutter your eyes open and smile back up at him was haunting to him. He couldn't resist but to shake your shoulders in hopes that it would be true. "You need to get up now! It's dangerous," he cried longer, and in that moment, he couldn't care less what happened to him beyond that point, because the one thing he truly cared about was now gone.

He would never hear your voice again, your lips pressed against his, or your smile that he secretly wished to see every day. He wished that he could feel your hands running along his hair comfortingly as you whispered sweet nothing to him.

He would never be able to tell you that he did, in fact, read every single one of your letters. That he wished to write back. That he wished to see you every second of the day.

Your last memory of him would instead be of how he betrayed you. Left you, and fought against you in the war. Scared and broken because of him.

It was truly all gone, and he had never hated himself more in that moment.

©x-gabrielle-x. Do not steal, copy or translate my works.

[loafgeto]

A BROTHEL…! BUT WITH MEN?

fushiguro toji x fem!reader

synopsis: you and your friends enter a brothel that has men, instead of women. thus, allows you to encounter toji. and of course, he’s just working and you’re just a client— so there’s nothing else involved, right?

contents: 18+ mdni, explicit language, fem!reader, she/her pronouns. NSFW, cunninglus, teasing, dirty talk, semi-overstimulation, begging, markings/hickeys, protected sex → unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, orgasms, size kink/difference, mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink, cockwarming, pet names. not proofread!

word count: 5k

notes: been thinking abt this lately with toji... might make a gojo one like this idk tho (before you progress in the story just know that i enjoy including the second round of fucking lol...)

your friends heard something interesting a few days ago. they were discussing it while meeting up for a hang out. you were the last to arrive, but your friends were chatting away about some topic you wouldn’t necessarily be interested in— at least not at the moment.

when you inquired and slip into the conversation about what they were discussing about, your friends appeared to hesitate and didn’t respond at first. but your curiosity lingered and you begged them to tell you. therefore— apparently, there was a unique and secret business somewhere in the city.

it was a legal brothel home, posing as a regular club building to the public. if you wanted to go to the brothel, you’d have to see the clerk by the golden elevator. but instead of the brothel having women employees— it was men instead. and your friends were considering on going, but they weren’t certain to invite you since you had just broken up with your boyfriend.

“what? that was like a month ago, c’mon guys. i can go,” you reassured your friends with a smile. sure, the break up still recalls to your mind and pains your healing heart, but you wanted to get over it and the relationship. so of course you’d need to do something thrilling and adventurous that would occupy your mind.

“okay, if [name] wants to then we should let her join us! who knows, she might meet a better hunk there,” one of your friends reply, giggling which makes the others agree.

“what? you know those dudes there are just working and not looking for any relationship,” you furrow your brows slightly, and sigh.

“oh, don’t give us that look, [name]! we were just joking,” one of your other friends intervened with a grin. you proceed not to say anything else as your friends further conversed about their excitement and expectations when they’re at the brothel.

“i hope the guys are hot.”

“i hope i fuck someone hot.”

they all giggled and fawned over the thought of having sex with someone handsome, or whatever. you just disassociated at that moment, not necessarily listening to the rest of the conversation.

later, your friends settled a saturday night to go to this brothel, which was in two days. you found yourself anticipating the consequences of your decisions for the remaining two days, and contemplated whether or not to actually go. well, you didn’t want to disappoint your friends after already claiming you’d go, so you decided to look forward to it.

when saturday night arrives, your friends picked you up and you all headed towards the brothel. it was a decent walk and a lot of people were attending the club. from what you could tell, most of the guests didn’t know that a brothel existed underneath the club. when you and your friends entered the loud room, you all headed towards the golden door tucked in the far back corner. it didn’t necessarily receive much attention, as there was a sign that wrote vip only.

your friends gave the clerk by the elevator an access code, in order for all of you to get in and moments later, another employee assists the group. “come this way, please,” the man gently gestures you all, and after exchanging glances he speaks again. “the golden elevator isn’t the main door that leads you where you want to be, so please come.”

you all trail after the man as he leads you down a quieter hall. large ancient paintings of animals and folklore creatures were hanged up with pure golden frames, easily giving your friends the creeps and caused them to huddle close together.

“i’m assuming this is the first time you’ve all been here?” the man inquires, still keeping his smile as he presses a button to another elevator. you all nod, and he chuckles. “i see, i hope you all have wonderful experiences. you all will be going to another floor where you can meet the men. and if you can’t select someone, then the host will attend you.”

the information seemed to enlighten your friends as they began smiling, giggling, and whispering bullshit that you didn’t necessarily hear when entering the elevator. the elevator brought you girls down two floors, and when the door opens— you all step into the premises of another floor where the tension is more intense and intimate.

there was music, neon party lights, and a limited amount of people. most men were occupied with their clients, while some were sitting and waiting for whoever to approach them. this brothel wasn’t typically like any other— it even appeared like a normal club. as you observed the area, it surprised you to see how many men were actually working in this place.

all of your friends ended up splitting from you and each other, leaving you alone to do whatever you desired. you sat by the bar, occasionally glancing at the men with their lady clients and wondered who to approach. however, you quickly became timid and ordered a drink. for all you know, it was going to be one hell of a night.

when searching for your friends, you could already see them all with someone— laughing and talking. you decided to get and walk around again- and maybe, you’ll meet someone approachable.

the area was decently large, filled with many secluded tables surrounding the large dance floor. you detected the unique decorations and designs of the interior, reminding you of those wicked businesses in those television shows. you were about to lap around the entire area again, when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

catching you off guard, you immediately whip your head around to see a man around your height. he was chubby and reeked a strong smell of alcohol and cheap cologne. you tried not express rudely, since you’re a client who didn’t want to get kicked out, and gently moved away from the man’s touch.

“sorry, can i help you?” you question with an awkward grin.

“no, no, sweetheart. i’ve just been looking at ya for a while now..” the man responds, a burp following after. “ya lonely? need someone? c’mon, we can go for a couple more drinks, yeah? get to know each other better and then we can go into one of the rooms..”

“s-sorry, sir. i’m not interested,” you hoped the decline was polite enough, and you slightly stepped away from the man. “in fact, i’m with someone..”

“aww, are you shy, my dear? i know you aren’t with anyone,” the man chuckles as he traces your steps, approaching closer to you. he grabs your forearm, tugging you towards him. “come on, it’ll be super, super fun.”

you were about to slap the man across the face when another hand presses against the man’s shoulder, earning both of your attentions. behind of the man was another— taller, muscular, and handsomer man with a scar on his mouth. his countenance was so powerful, yet intriguing and it destroyed the shorter man’s confidence.

“are you drunk again?” the taller man questions, his low and raspy tone making your knees weak as he pulls the other man away from you. he gives you a quick glance before returning to the other man. “ya know, you shouldn’t be approaching clients like that if you don’t want the business to fail. boss wouldn’t like that, would he now?”

“t-toji?! y-you shithead.. i’m not doing anything bad- and don’t meddle into other’s situations!” the short man spouts, face burning with embarrassment as he pushes toji’s hand off his shoulder.

“well it is my business since she’s my client,” toji tilts his head and crosses his arms, maintaining his cool and calm demeanor. “so, you gonna leave or what?”

“y-you..” the man is unable to say anything else, and without looking at you, he quickly walks past toji and pushes through other people walking behind, disappearing into the crowd.

you sigh out of relief, feeling your heart race faster than usual. you raise your head, meeting gazes with toji who was clearly unbothered. “thank you.. for that,” you nod your head, but toji just shrugs.

“it was nothing, princess,” toji raises an arm and gently rubs the side of his head with his palm. “you’re a client and you have the right to tell him to back off. don’t just be standing there helpless, cause no one else is gonna help ya.”

“but you did,” you reply, furrowing your brows.

“right, of course, i did. what i mean is— no one else is gonna help you but me,” a little smirk appears on toji’s lips as he steps closer to you, his build towering over yours. “you still need help, pretty girl?”

“n-no.. i’m.. fine,” you stammer, shaking your head and dart your eyes in different directions as you feel your face burn.

toji lowers his eyes to examine your flustered expression, and he chuckles, admiring how cute your face looks. he opened his mouth and was about to reply, when another girl’s voice grabbed his attention.

“tojiii!” a woman running behind of toji calls out to him and she instantly wraps her arms around his waist. you blink several times, watching the interaction and remaining silent. “i’ve been looking alll over for youu~”

toji turns his head and down at the woman, smiling and gently putting his hands over hers. “sorry, just got caught up in something. you having fun?”

“noooo. without you it’s just so, so boring. c’mon toji~ let’s go back to the table~” the girl whines and pouts, tugging toji closer to her breasts that were pushed against his back. and she finally notices you from the corner of her eyes. “oh, who’s this?”

toji gives you a look, before turning back to the woman again. “just another client. go back to the table, i’ll meet you there,” toji says, fully turning his body to face her.

her pout grows larger as she gives toji her pleading eyes. “no, toji, you gotta come with meee~ and i’ll always be your favorite right, toji? hmmmm?”

“of course, of course. now go back first, i gotta help this client, y’know it’s my job to do that,” toji pats the girl’s shoulder, trying to gently push her away from him. “then after that, i’m all yours, ‘kay?”

“it’s fine! i don’t need any help,” you blurt out, earning the attention of the two. the tension became sensitive, and you could feel the flustered emotions returning to you. toji tilts his head, gazing at you as if you just said something you shouldn’t have. “thank you for helping me though, i’ll be going now.”

without giving toji or the woman another glance, you turn around and walk straight back towards the bar. you could feel a knot form in your stomach as you push yourself up on an empty chair, waving a hand at the bartender to make you another cocktail. you press your arm against the cold feeling of the bar’s countertop, now regretting your choice of coming here.

you couldn’t approach any man at all, and even if you wanted to, they were already with a client. you were pretty much going to spend the rest of the night at the bar, drinking constantly until you couldn’t and eventually go home without informing your friends who probably didn’t even care at that moment. two of them were already heading towards one of the rooms, while the others— well, you didn’t know.

your mind endlessly thought about the imagination of toji sitting next to you and talking to you before inviting you into one of the rooms. that man had caught your attention. however, he seemed quite popular and probably had many clients tracing after him like a golden prize.

maybe i should just leave, you thought when finishing your fifth cup of alcohol. thankfully, you were a strong drinker, so you could smoothly leave without any complications. you took out your phone, turning on the device and opening the messages app to text in the group chat that you’d be leaving. to you, there was necessarily no point in staying here.

as you were about to get off the chair, you heard someone pull the seat next to you. turning your head, your eyes fall upon toji’s large figure. his dark eyes were already on you and a faint smirk appears on his lips as you bring your thighs closer together.

“leaving so soon?” toji questions.

“l-leaving? i’m not.. leaving,” the lie slips off your tongue, and you had no clue why you had done so. toji’s demeanor was so alluring and his approach made your heart flutter a bit. the man was gorgeous, even with his scar— he’s definitely someone you would have approached if you saw him sooner.

“didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but i saw you text your friends that you were leaving,” toji smiles, leaning his head to the side. “i’m guessing you haven’t approached anyone yet, huh?”

“no..” you shake your head, swallowing the nervousness you had aching in your throat. you turn your head slightly, detecting the girl toji was with earlier— it seems like she was searching for him again. “um.. what about the girl earlier?”

“oh, her?” toji hums, eyes wandering to the same direction before returning back to you. “you don’t gotta worry about her, princess. she should be the least of yours worries.”

“but she’s—“

“hey,” toji gently grabs your chin, turning your attention back onto him. “i said don’t worry about her, or anyone at all. just worry about me only, i’m keeping you company.”

your body seemed to make the decisions for you and you nodded your head, eyes never leaving toji’s as he returns his hand to his side. toji orders a drink for himself, noticing how much cups you’ve already gotten yourself.

“so, what brought you here?” toji questions, drumming his fingers against the bar’s countertop. he couldn’t help but observe your attire— the way your dress hugged your body and shifted near your hips, almost revealing your panties underneath. “i’m sure a pretty girl like you would have a boyfriend, no?”

“oh.. no. i broke up with my boyfriend a while ago,” you reply, shifting your eyes slightly away as you notice him constantly checking you out. not that you were uncomfortable, rather becoming timid. sure, you’d imagine talking to him like this— but now that it was actually happening, you didn’t necessarily know how to act. “what makes you want to work here?”

“huh, dunno. for fun, i guess,” toji shrugs as the bartender passed toji’s drink to him. he lifts the cup in his hands, gaze still on you. “you here for fun too, eh?”

“well, i’m here with my friends—“ you pause and shake your head as toji takes a long sip of his drink beverage. “well, i was with them. i’m pretty sure they’re all invited to the rooms by now.”

“that so?” toji smiles, finishing his drink before leaning closer to you. his face was nearly inches away from yours, and you couldn’t help but stare down at his lips and back up into his eyes. “what’s your name, by the way, princess?”

“[name]…”

“cute name for a cute girl. i’m toji, but i’m pretty sure you already know that,” he chuckles, still leaning close to your face. “hm.. how about i take you to one of the rooms?”

it took you a while, but now you’re in a private room with toji. as your lips moved against each other’s, his large hands groped your ass and he grinds his hips against yours. you can feel his hard aching dick underneath his pants, pressing against your lower belly and you moan against his lips because of the sensation.

“lay down, princess,” toji instructs as your leg hits the frame of the bed. you follow his directions, pushing your lips away from his and laid down on the mattress. toji initially observes your expression, seeing how needy you’ve already become for him. just imagining how wet you were was making his dick even harder. “wanna spread your legs for me, pretty?”

you didn’t hesitate to follow his request, spreading your wobbling legs apart which pushes your dress upwards to reveal your soaked panties. toji smiles and kneels in front of you, eyes staring at the drenched area. he presses a finger against your clothed pussy, getting a small whine out of your mouth.

“t-toji..”

“you know, ever since you came in here, i’ve been wanting to approach ya,” toji starts, hoisting both of your legs over his shoulder and he grips the fat of your thighs, pushing your hips closer to his face. he presses a soft kiss on your inner thigh, eyes looking into yours. “i wondered why such a pretty girl like you was here.”

toji continues to press kisses on your inner thigh, swirling his tongue around certain areas before gently biting on the skin. quiet moans fall from your lips as your hands grip the sheets of the mattress and your pussy quivered each moment his lips neared your wet area. toji leaves several marks on your thighs before pressing the tip of his tongue against your clothed clit.

“mm- fuck…” your head falls back as his tongue rubs against your sensitive clit, and toji chuckles before kissing your thighs again. “that already made you moan like that? shit, can’t wait to hear how you sound like when i use my tongue.”

toji lifts his head, opening his mouth to bite against the fabric of your panties and you watch as he lowers them down and off of you. he tosses the garment somewhere on the floor, eyes locked on your glistening cunt. “such a pretty pussy i have here, eh?” he compliments, thumbing your clit.

“fuck… i-i need your tongue in me now, toji..” you squirm as toji makes slow, sensual circles against your clit with his thumb.

“i hear you, princess," toji grins as he lowers his face to your pelvic area. he glides his wet tongue up and down your folds, before slightly pushing it into your needy hole. you gasp, feeling his tongue beginning to passionately fuck your pussy.

"t-that feels s'good, toji-" you moan, a hand going to grasp his hair. toji's smile became wider as he moves to pleasure your clit, swirling his tongue around and gently sucking on your sensitive sweet spot.

you had never felt such satisfaction before, even when you were with your previous boyfriend. hearing your soft moans made toji eager to fuck you at that moment, he was so desperate to know how your cunt would feel around him. but he's patient, wanting to create a more erotic atmosphere. toji's never met someone who could make him feel like this, after all, he's just working.

toji rolls his tongue against your wet folds, licking and savoring your arousal dripping out. then he returns to gently suck and kitten lick on your clit, grunting lowly at the feeling of your hand roaming and softly gripping his hair.

you start grinding your hips a little to match the sync of his tongue eating you out, making toji smirk. "so needy, aren't ya, princess?" toji chuckles, spitting his saliva on your pussy before returning his tongue back to spread the liquid over the area.

"mhm- needy- just for you, toji-" you moan as your body trembles, head nearly falling back against the mattress. toji flicks his tongue faster against your pussy, noticing that you were gradually reaching your orgasm and he circles his thumb on your clit to assist you closer to your climax.

your heart and breathing rate increases as your hips jerk slightly forward, your pussy ejaculating more of your arousal fluids that toji just couldn't get enough of. your body receives a great sensation of satisfaction and toji pulls his face away, his smug grin returning to his lips.

“you ready for my cock, princess?” toji questions as he stands up, unzipping his pants and lowering his boxers to free his throbbing hard cock leaking with pre-cum. your cute, soft eyes seemed to shine upon seeing his dick, causing toji to snicker. you nod your head indicating your approval and toji grabs out a condom packet from his pocket.

toji opens the condom pack with his teeth, slipping the thin protection on his cock after pumping it several times with his other hand. he wets the condom with your arousal before positioning himself properly between your thighs. you watch the entire thing, lips slightly trembling at the sight of his thick cock pressing against the entrance of your swollen pussy.

he starts by teasing your pussy with his tip and pushing your legs farther apart. you squirm, eyes begging for him to push his cock in. “p-please, toji~” you whine, making the man’s smile curve wider. toji quickly slips off his shirt, exposing his scarred but well-built body. “this pussy really wants it, huh?” he replies, figuring he’d take off your other clothes later and instantly shoves his cock past your folds and into your aching hole.

“n-ngh! fuck!” you cry out, eyes nearly rolling back as toji starts thrusting his hips. you swore you just came, but you couldn’t even tell as you were lust struck by toji’s cock. “shittt, princess— you’re clenching me so fucking tight,” toji groans, his cock twitching at the feeling of your sensitive walls sucking him in.

toji pushes your legs towards you with his hands, lowering his body over yours to quicken his thrusts. he grunts, fingers nudging into the skin of your thighs. your pussy felt so damn good around him, he was loving it and making him imagine how it’d feel like to fuck you without the condom. toji’s slept with other women before, several of the same ones a couple times, but they never gave him the same feeling you did. for some reason, it’s different with you and toji was certain that if you kept coming here, he’d fuck you and only you.

“you’re adjusting so well to me already.. agh, shit,” toji moans, pumping his cock deep into your pussy— like he was craving so much more of it. “mm- toji! p-please kiss me~” you moan out, squeezing your walls tightly around him as toji guides your legs to wrap around his waist.

toji lowers his face, pressing his lips against yours and forcefully pushes his tongue into your mouth. you both share a sloppy kiss, your tongues moving in a lustful desire as your hands travel to claw the skin of toji’s back as he pounds into you from the position.

“toji- ngh- yes, fuck me harder!” you beg when pulling away from the kiss, tugging his body close to yours. toji groans, feeling his balls become more sensitive from your indecent demand and thrusts quicker, rougher like you wanted. “s-shit. your pussy treats me so well, baby— like it’s just f’me,” toji grunts, realizing he was reaching his climax next.

“i’m about to cum- shit-“ toji huffs, smiling from the feeling of your pussy pulsating around him when he claimed he was about to cum. he pushes his body away, throwing your legs over his shoulders and gripping his arms around your thighs before roughly plunging his cock into your pussy. “fuckfuckfuck, i’m gonna cum too- toji-“ you cry out, eyes shutting as small tears stream down the side of your face.

“rub your clit, princess. show me how you touch your clit when i'm fucking you like this," toji demands as you push your hips up. you whine and without hesitating to his request, you lower a hand down to rub circles against like your clit, allowing you to reach your second orgasm. "that's good. such a good girl," he praises next with a groan following.

as you came over his cock, you could feel toji's warm cum through the condom when he stops thrusting. his large body hovers over yours and you both gasp heavily for air. your eyes seemed to stare at the ceiling for a very long time, but your attention is drawn away when toji slips his cock out your pussy and takes off the condom. he tosses the used condom to the trash can nearby and cleans himself up, and you notice that he was still quite hard.

"toji.." you call out, earning his gaze. you had pushed your dress off of you, leaving you in your laced bra. his eyes widen slightly, but he doesn't make a move as you unclipped your bra and threw it somewhere, revealing your breasts. "let's go for another round.. please.." you implore, getting on all fours in front of him.

toji's dick pulsates at the sight of your actions, and he couldn't reject you at all, not when you're looking and pleading for him like this. he nods, about to grab another condom when you stop him. initially, he's confused by your gesture and watches as you turn your entire body around, your ass facing his hard cock. "n-no condom.." you utter, exposing your still wet cunt to him.

"are you on the pill?" toji questions first, but you shake your head. he sighs, "you know that-"

"i-i know.. and it's okay.. so pleasee, toji," you beg again with a small whimper. toji reminds himself that you're still his client and apart of his job was to follow client's request no matter the circumstances. however, even if you weren’t his client… toji grabs the side of your hips with his hands, pushing your ass against his hips before aligning his cock at your entrance.

without warning, toji shoves his bare cock entirely into your pussy and you both moan at this different sensation. “o-oh fuck..” you mewl, your sticky walls already clenching tight around him. “s-shit.. [name], your pussy feels so damn good,” toji grunts, hips moving at a quicker pace.

toji didn’t mention to you, but you’re the first person here that he’s fucking without a condom and damn it felt way better than ever. with the position, it allowed him to penetrate deeper into your pussy and rub perfectly against your g-spot. your moans became louder and constant as his thrusts became stronger, and you began pushing your hips back to match the sync of his thrusts.

“fuckkk, yeah. fuck my cock, princess,” toji groans at your hip’s movements, head falling back as he starts heavily pounding you from the back. “feels s’damn good, yeah,” he’d add next, eyes lowering to the area in which you two connected.

toji’s dick quivers at the sight of your pussy spreading so well to his cock, since he was a much bigger man that you. he’d never imagine a small and cute girl sucking in his cock like this, begging for him until she couldn’t anymore. “tojiii, i love your cock sososo much!” you cry, your pussy squeezing him as if you’re trying to milk his cum out.

his cock is thrusted deep into you, kissing your womb and stroking against your sensitive g-spot. in that moment, you were so glad that you came to the brothel with your friends— and that you didn’t leave before toji approached you. your friends would probably be confused on your actions once they see you again, but who’d care what they would think? if they saw toji, you bet they would be wanting to pursue him too.

"ngh- fuckkk- i want keep coming here! i want to feel your raw cock fill up my pussy just like this!" you scream, eyes rolling back as your tears stream down your messy face.

"haaahh, princess. if you keep coming here wanting that then..." toji begins through his grunts and pants, hips slamming harshly against your ass that it'd leave marks. "you might.. actually end up getting.. pregnant. fuck-" he moans, feeling you squeeze his cock at his words.

"'ts okay, toji- i'll deal with- the consequences! pleaseee, i want your cum!" you reply through your heavy moans, head turning around to face him. your expression was so erotic and filthy, you practically had heart eyes just for him. it made toji wonder if he should just cum in you like you wanted. oh how it made his dick twitch from imagining knocking you up with his babies. "we're both going to deal with the consequence, princess. shitt fine, i'm gonna give you my cum since you've been so good to me," toji replies as his grip on your hips tighten.

"yesyesyes! oh god- pleaseplease give me your cum!" you plead over and over, and how can toji reject such a proposal like that? especially when it's coming from you? "fuck, fuck," toji chants, fingertips dipping into your skin as he feels his climax forming quick. "take all of my cum like the good girl you are, 'kay? don't you dare fucking waste it or else i'll fuck more into you."

maybe toji shouldn't have said that, but either way, you both were certain that there was no stopping even after this. at this point, he was going to work past his shift, but he didn’t care one bit. if you both were kicked out, he’d invite you to his place and you’d both continue fucking from there. constant sex with you was one of his desires, but first, he wanted to know more about you.

when toji pumps his warm cum into you, your thoughts seemed to have fade from your head. you’ve never experienced such erotic, explicit, and dirty sex like this before, and it’s something you’ll be craving for once you and toji go separate ways. well, that is if you do.

toji remains his cock in your pussy, wanting to keep warm. as you’re catching for air, you can feel him press kisses against your shoulder and down your back. his lips travel back to your neck and towards your ear, and you could feel his hot breath gently brushing against your skin.

“wanna ride me next, princess?”

LOAFGETO. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

a/n: GOODNESS THIS WAS AGONIZING TO WRITE.. i didnt know when i’d finish this but thankfully it didn’t take more than two days.. LOL. have a good day/night guys. likes + reblogs is appreciated!!!! <3

[7ndipity]

Partner Privileges

Jungkook x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks to @queenofdragonsandcats for requesting this!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Sharing food. He likes being able to look after you, both in bigger, more obvious ways, as well as little, subtle things, even if it’s just sharing a bite or two of whatever he’s eating. He just wants to make sure you’re taken care of and well fed(but he will insist on feeding it to you)

Helping with household chores. I’ve mentioned this before, but he seems to really enjoy moments of simple domesticity, and I think that would extend into your relationship. He’s very much a ‘playing house’ type of boyfriend, relishing in simple daily tasks with you. It might sound strange, but doing laundry together is a love language for him.

Info dumping. Yoongi and Jin joked during Suchwita about how Jungkook tends to space out or not always pay super close attention during conversations, but when it comes to you, he makes a conscious effort to pay super close attention, even if you’re just ranting about why mint chocolate is a superior flavor of ice cream. He loves talking to you about literally anything and sharing whatever weird topic y’all have fixated on lately.(my adhd ass is projecting a lil, leave me alone)

Babying each other. As I mentioned in my other lists, he’s had to kinda fight to shake the perception of him as the cute little maknae of the group, but he can’t help but melt whenever you dote on him, and the same applies to you. He doesn’t mind being your baby, but he absolutely loves getting to take care of his baby.

This one goes against almost everything I’ve said before about his possessive streak but, being friends with his friends. He’s very protective of his friends and loved ones, so letting you into his inner circle of friends is a real sign of trust and commitment from him, and seeing you getting along with Jimin or Mingyu means the world to him(even tho he might still get a lil jealous sometimes).

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan

[cece693]

My Safe Place (Finnick Odair x M! Reader)

Going back to my Hunger Games phase and not enough fics for male/gender neutral readers can be found for him. So, I aim to fix it :) Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Finnick was known for his conquests whenever he traveled to the Capital, however, you were his main client—a man who didn't exactly act like the rest of the Capital society.

tags: mention of sex working, Finnick deserves better, reader is a safe place for him, President Snow being a dick, reader is different, Annie (unfortunately) is dead

The arrangement between you and Finnick was dangerous, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was giving him some semblance of safety, a fleeting escape from the nightmare President Snow had trapped him in. You never liked interacting with people, much less in the manner Finnick’s arrangement with the Capitol required. But when the murmurs began—stories of the young victor's so-called "conquests" echoing in the opulent halls—you couldn’t ignore the tug in your chest.

You weren’t foolish. You knew how Snow operated. Finnick’s dazzling smile was just another weapon in the Capitol's arsenal, a weapon honed through coercion and manipulation. Then you overheard a conversation at a party: a woman bragging about "paying" to spend time with him. Her words were dripping with self-satisfaction, as though exploiting someone so clearly tormented was a badge of honor. It made your stomach churn.

It was easy to connect the dots. Too easy.

The first time you reached out to Finnick, it had been awkward. Not for him—he was all smooth confidence, his charm slipping into place like a second skin. But you? You couldn’t keep still, looking around the suite for cameras or hidden microphones. You didn’t trust the Capitol, and Finnick was bound to be under constant surveillance, his every move scrutinized.

Sensing your nervousness, Finnick took control of the situation, his practiced mask of seduction sliding into place. He began unbuttoning his shirt, moving toward you with a deliberate air. After all, wasn’t this why you’d invited him here? Another Capitol indulgence, another client eager to own a piece of him.

“No!” Your voice cut through the tension as you stepped back, your hand flying up to stop him. The disgust on your face was immediate and unfiltered.

Finnick froze, his hands mid-motion, and for a moment, genuine confusion flickered across his face. “Then what do you want?” he asked, clutching the throw you’d hastily handed him.

It had taken everything in you to hold his gaze. "A safe place. For you. No strings attached."

For a long, tense moment, Finnick didn’t respond. He studied you, his sea-green eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to find the trap in your words. Then, to your surprise, he laughed—a bitter, hollow sound that didn’t suit him at all.

"Safe places don’t exist in the Capitol."

"Maybe not," you admitted. "But I can try."

From then on, it became a routine. You’d send the payment—an obscene amount, just enough to satisfy the Capitol’s watchful eye—and Finnick would arrive at your apartment late at night. He always used the private entrance to avoid prying eyes. At first, neither of you talked much. Finnick would sit stiffly on the edge of your luxurious couch, his shoulders tense, his hands fidgeting with the sea-green pendant around his neck.

You ignored his discomfort, going about your nightly routine as though he wasn’t there. You’d clean the dishes left on the counter, read a book with a steaming cup of tea, or sometimes sit at your piano and let your fingers wander across the keys. You never pressed him to talk, never demanded his attention. You simply let him exist in the quiet safety of your home.

When the time was up, Finnick would stand, his expression often a mix of confusion and gratitude, before slipping out the same way he came.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

Months into the arrangement, Finnick began to open up. At first, he stuck to safe topics: the ocean breeze in District 4, the salty tang of the air, the sound of the waves crashing against the rocky shore. His words painted a vivid picture of home, a place you could tell he missed deeply.

You didn’t press him for more, content to let him share whatever pieces of himself he felt comfortable giving. But then, one evening, as you were reading, Finnick spoke a name that hung heavy in the air. “Annie.” The sound of her name made him freeze for a moment, as though he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. You looked up from your book, startled by the weight in his tone but careful not to push. You simply set the book down and waited.

Finnick’s gaze fell to the pendant he always wore, his fingers tracing the smooth surface of the shell. “She was my first love,” he said quietly. “She was different from everyone else. Quiet, kind, but strong in a way most people didn’t see. She didn’t care about the Games or the Capitol. She only cared about people.”

The smile faded from his lips, replaced by a shadow of grief. “But Snow couldn’t allow that, could he? He couldn’t let me have something that made me resist.”

Finnick’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the pendant, his entire frame trembling with suppressed rage and sorrow. “He killed her,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It wasn’t quick, and it wasn’t painless. He made sure I knew every detail, made sure I understood that her death was my fault."

You watched as his grief and anger boiled over. With a sharp, guttural sound of frustration, Finnick stood abruptly, grabbing a vase from a nearby table. Without hesitation, he flung it at the wall, the porcelain shattering into a million jagged pieces. The crash echoed through the room, but you didn’t flinch.

Finnick’s chest heaved as he stood there amidst the broken shards, his tear-streaked face turned toward you. The raw vulnerability in his sea-green eyes was almost too much to bear. His lip quivered as though he was fighting a battle within himself, one final attempt to keep the walls he’d built intact.

But then, those walls crumbled.

Without warning, Finnick took a shaky step forward and collapsed to his knees before you. His head fell into your lap, his arms wrapping loosely around your legs as though anchoring himself to something—anything—real. The dam inside him burst, and his sobs came in great, shuddering waves, his entire body trembling with the force of his anguish.

You froze for a moment, startled by the intensity of his collapse, but quickly recovered. Gently, you rested a hand on his head, your fingers threading through his golden tousled hair in slow, soothing motions. Your other hand settled lightly on his back, offering a steady, grounding presence.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, your voice soft but firm. “Let it out, Finnick. You’re safe here.”

His sobs grew louder, his pain pouring out in every ragged breath, every muffled cry against your knees. His tears soaked through the fabric of your pants, but you didn’t care. All that mattered was being there for him, letting him release the emotions he’d kept locked away for so long.

“I couldn’t save her,” he choked out, his voice muffled against you. “I couldn’t…I wasn’t enough.”

“Finnick, stop,” you said gently, your voice breaking with emotion. “You were enough. You loved her, and that was more than enough. What happened to Annie wasn’t your fault. Snow…Snow took her because he’s a monster, not because of anything you did.”

He didn’t respond, but his grip on your legs tightened, his trembling body pressing closer against you. You continued to stroke his hair, murmuring soft reassurances, letting him pour his heart out in the safety of your presence. As the minutes passed, his sobs began to subside, the storm of emotions giving way to quiet, exhausted tears. His breathing slowed, though his face remained buried against your knees, as if he couldn’t bear to let go just yet.

“Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely, the words barely audible, yet they carried the weight of his gratitude and trust.

From that moment, something fragile yet beautiful began to bloom between you. Finnick grew comfortable in your space, his presence no longer guarded or wary. He started accepting small gestures of care—a cup of tea, a plate of fresh fruit—with a smile that wasn’t the polished charm he wore in public, but something tender and genuine.

His smiles were rare but transformative, softening his features in a way that felt almost sacred. It wasn’t the grin of a Capitol heartthrob or a victor playing his part. It was Finnick. The real Finnick. And it was in those moments you saw him as the man he was, not the mask he was forced to wear.

Finnick’s feelings for you deepened with every visit. At first, it was subtle: the way his eyes lingered on you a moment longer than necessary, the way his laughter grew warmer and more frequent when you were around. But over time, it became undeniable.

He found excuses to stay longer, to ask you questions about yourself—your favorite books, your childhood memories, your thoughts on the world beyond the Capitol. His curiosity was genuine, his attention focused solely on you, as though you were the one piece of sanity in his life.

And you noticed. Of course, you noticed. You weren’t blind to the way his gaze softened when it met yours, the way his voice grew quieter when he spoke your name. You weren’t stupid—you knew what it meant.

But you didn’t give in.

It wasn’t that you didn’t feel the same way. You did. Finnick had become more than a presence in your life; he had become someone you cared about deeply, someone you wanted to protect, someone whose laughter felt like sunlight breaking through a storm. But you didn’t want him to think that was all you were after. You didn’t want him to believe, even for a moment, that your care for him was tied to his charm or his body or any of the things the Capitol exploited. Finnick deserved better than that.

So you kept your distance, at least emotionally. You treated him as you always had—with quiet kindness and unwavering respect. Even as your heart ached to reach out, to tell him how much he mattered to you, you held back. Because Finnick’s worth was so much more than he realized, and you refused to let him think otherwise.

And then the 75th Hunger Games was announced.

The moment the words left President Snow’s lips—this year, the tributes shall be reaped from the existing pool of victors—you felt your chest tighten. You knew what it meant. Finnick would be going back into the arena.

When his name was called at the reaping, you watched from your apartment, your hands trembling as you gripped the armrest of your chair. Finnick’s face was calm, but you knew the storm that raged beneath the surface. You knew him too well to be fooled by the mask.

Days later, during the interviews, you sat in the same chair, your eyes glued to the television. The Capitol was abuzz with excitement, the crowd roaring with approval as Caesar Flickerman welcomed the victors one by one. And then it was Finnick’s turn. He stepped onto the stage, his signature charm firmly in place. The audience adored him, their cheers deafening as he waved and smiled. But when Caesar asked him the question that had been on everyone’s lips—is there someone special he's fighting for?—something shifted.

Finnick’s expression softened, the mask slipping just enough to reveal the man beneath. “There is,” he said simply, his voice steady but filled with emotion. The crowd erupted in gasps and murmurs, looking at each other as if he was speaking about one of them, but Finnick ignored them. "And I would like to tell them something, if you don't mind."

Caesar, ever the showman, gestured grandly for him to proceed but not before hushing the crowd.

"Though I cannot promise forever, Though the storms still rage around me, I leave my heart to you, And hope you’ll remember me kindly."

No one else knew who the poem was for. But you did.

And in that moment, it was both everything and not nearly enough.

[mononijikayu]

love me anyway — fushiguro megumi.

Megumi was quiet for a moment, his gaze steady and thoughtful. Then, he asked quietly, “Do you love me?” The question took you by surprise, but you nodded without hesitation. “Of course, I do. I love you more than anything.” Before you could say more, he cut you off, his voice firm yet tender. “Then love me anyway.” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’ll love you like that too. But in my way. Okay?”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Idol AU!

WARNING/s: General Audience, SFW, Fluff, Romance, Mild Angst, Comfort, Care, Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Crying, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Confessions, Mutual Affection, Love, Hugging, Idol! Megumi, Idol! Reader, Someone Love Me Like Megumi Loves Reader;

WORDS: 5k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: the kanji translates to 1st bubble - 'love me anyway' and 2nd bubble - 'i'll love you like that too'; i was also supposed to publish this last night, but i was exhausted from the nightmare of trying to get admitted for classes at our unprepared uni. but alas, it is what it is. also, i keep thinking - would people be interested to ask commission me for fiction work??? if so, tell me~ anyway, i love you all!!!

main masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 900;

if you want to, tip! <3

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IF ANYONE ASKS ABOUT YOU, MEGUMI SAYS NOTHING. When Megumi Fushiguro was asked about his personal life, especially concerning his relationship status, he always took a measured approach. His calm demeanor, coupled with his reluctance to divulge details, created a mystery that intrigued fans and media alike. 

Interviewers would frequently probe with questions about who he might be dating, their curiosity piqued by his silence. Yet Megumi, skilled at deflecting attention, would maintain an air of nonchalance. He would often sidestep the inquiries with practiced ease. "I prefer to keep my personal life private." he’d say with a polite smile, steering the conversation to his latest projects or upcoming performances.

When pressed further, his responses would be deliberately vague. "I’m not seeing anyone special at the moment." he’d offer, though his tone hinted at something more, leaving room for speculation. Occasionally, he’d indulge in playful ambiguity, saying, "That’s a bit of a secret." allowing the press and his fans to indulge in their wild theories.

In truth, his silence was not a mere avoidance of the topic but a carefully crafted shield. The reality was that he was deeply committed to you, his fellow pop singer. To the outside world, he remained an enigma, but those who knew him well understood that his reluctance to discuss his personal life was his way of protecting something precious. 

Away from the spotlight, Megumi cherished the moments he spent with you. In the quiet of your shared spaces, there were no prying eyes, no pressure to perform or maintain a facade. Here, he could be himself—a man deeply in love, unguarded and tender in ways the world never saw.

He would often steal glances at you when you weren’t looking, a soft smile playing on his lips as he marveled at how effortlessly you fit into his life. It was in the little things—the way you brewed his coffee just the way he liked it, the shared laughter over inside jokes, the warmth of your hand in his as you walked through the city late at night, hidden from the world. These were the moments that mattered to him, far more than any public adoration or recognition.

Megumi's commitment to keeping your relationship private wasn’t just about maintaining his image—it was about preserving the sanctity of what you both had built together. The love you shared was too precious, too delicate, to be exposed to the scrutiny and speculation that came with fame. He wanted to protect it, to keep it safe from the prying eyes and intrusive questions that would inevitably come if your relationship became public knowledge.

In those rare instances when the pressure of the media became overwhelming, and the rumors started to swirl, you both found solace in the understanding that this was your choice. The secrecy wasn’t a burden but a conscious decision to prioritize each other over the demands of the world outside.

Megumi knew that one day, when the time was right, he would be ready to share his happiness with the world. But until then, he was content with the quiet, intimate life you shared—one that was filled with love, trust, and the unspoken understanding that you were both in this together, no matter what.

Fushiguro Megumi thought of this bubble as something sacred, a secret he held close, not meant for the public but for himself alone. It was his way of preserving the tenderness and intimacy of what you shared, a private world far removed from the demands and expectations of his public life.

If anyone took a closer look, they might notice the subtle signs—the small but significant traces of you woven into his daily routine. The Polaroids tucked into the inner pocket of his coat when he traveled were a tangible connection to you, a reminder of moments that were too precious to be left behind. These photos, capturing the essence of your time together, were his silent companions on the road, offering comfort and a sense of closeness no matter how far away he was.

Then there was the worn edge of the photo he kept in his wallet, a picture he glimpsed every time he paid for his usual iced Americano. The photo, though small, held a world of memories within its faded colors—a candid shot of you laughing, the kind of smile that made his heart feel lighter even on the toughest days. This simple act of seeing your face, even in passing, grounded him, reminding him of the life you had together beyond the stage and the spotlight.

During his live broadcasts, there was yet another clue—another Polaroid placed on his nightstand, visible only to those who looked closely. To the casual observer, it might seem like just another photo, but to Megumi, it was a piece of home, a visual anchor to the life he cherished with you. This photo was a quiet declaration, a subtle hint at the love that defined his private world, even if he chose not to speak of it aloud.

Each of these small, deliberate choices was Megumi’s way of carrying you with him, of keeping you close even when you were apart. It was a way of acknowledging your presence in his life without exposing it to the world, preserving the purity of what you shared. In this carefully constructed bubble, you were safe, your love shielded from the chaos and noise of the outside world. And for Megumi, that was all that mattered.

To the world, he was enigmatic, but in the quiet moments away from the cameras, Megumi’s heart was unmistakably yours. And he absolutely loved it. He adored having to see these polaroids, the ones only for his eyes and be reminded that you took them for him. Each one had notes behind it — the date it was taken, the place it was taken and unique declarations of love from you. One after the other. Only for him to see. 

It’s not that Megumi wants to keep you a secret—far from it. He dreams of the day when he can hold your hand in public, fingers intertwined without a second thought, and kiss you on the street, feeling the world fade away as his lips meet yours. He imagines looking up during a performance and spotting you in the VIP box, your face beaming with pride as you cheer him on, your presence a source of strength.

But he knows you’re not ready for that step yet. And he gets it, truly he does. Being public together is a huge deal, something that would bring your relationship under the intense scrutiny of fans and the media. The thought of everyone speculating, commenting, dissecting every interaction between the two of you—it overwhelms you. And Megumi loves you too much, loves you too much to ever subject you to something that could hurt you.

So he waits, never pressuring, always patient. He works hard to ensure you know how much he loves you, showing it in the quiet moments, in the little things he does just for you. He’s there for you in ways that matter most, understanding your needs, your boundaries. And you know that, feel that love in every glance, every touch, every word he doesn’t need to say.

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SOMETIMES, YOU THINK THAT YOU AREN’T GOOD ENOUGH FOR HIM. You know you really shouldn’t even be thinking that. But It was really hard not to think that. Even little things like this, being able to be together, he’ll make it possible. Just to be with you, he’ll move every schedule he has around. You watched him intently as he prepared for song rehearsals, the familiar rhythm of the venue buzzing around you.

Both of you had been invited to perform at the same song festival—two stars in your own right, each with a dedicated following and a unique presence on stage. Yet, despite the individual paths you had carved in the industry, there was an undeniable connection between you, something that always seemed to draw you closer, even in the vast world of music and fame.

The festival was a high-profile event, a convergence of talent and star power, where each performance was eagerly anticipated by fans and critics alike. You were no exception; your name alone was enough to generate buzz, your performance a highlight on the festival's lineup. But this time, there was something more personal, more intimate at stake.

His stage was scheduled right after yours, a coincidence that felt almost too perfect to be real. It provided you with the perfect opportunity to linger behind after your set, slipping into the shadows to watch him perform without drawing too much attention.

It wasn’t unusual for artists to stay and support their peers, but for you, it was more than just professional courtesy—it was a chance to savor the moments you had together, to see him in his element, knowing that soon, he would be gone, and the time you had now would be all you could hold on to for a while.

Megumi had only decided to attend the festival because he knew you would be there. The invitation had come at a time when his schedule was already packed with album promotions and interviews, and truthfully, he could have declined without anyone questioning his decision.

But the thought of spending even a few hours in the same space as you, of sharing the stage at the same event, was enough to make him rearrange his plans. It was rare for your paths to cross like this, and he wasn’t about to let the opportunity slip by.

The festival was not just a performance but a brief, precious reprieve from the hectic lives you both led. It was a chance to be together, to share a moment that was yours alone, even if it was in the midst of flashing lights and roaring crowds. The fact that you were both attending had turned what might have been just another event into something special, something you both looked forward to with a mix of excitement and bittersweet anticipation.

Because after the festival, there would be rehearsals, and then he would be off again, flying halfway across the world to promote his album. It was the nature of your lives, always moving, always in demand, but it didn’t make the goodbyes any easier. You knew that once he left, it would be weeks, maybe even months, before you could see each other again. The distance would stretch between you, filled with phone calls and texts, but it wasn’t the same as being together, as feeling his presence beside you.

Megumi was focused, his expression serious as he adjusted his in-ear monitor, the slight furrow in his brow showing his concentration. For a brief moment, his gaze shifted, landing on you. There was a quiet acknowledgment in his eyes, a connection that needed no words. You couldn’t help but smile, the simple act of being there for him filling you with warmth.

He caught the smile, and something softened in his features, though he quickly averted his gaze as the stage director’s voice echoed through the space, calling for attention. Megumi turned his focus back to the task at hand, but you knew that brief exchange had said everything it needed to.

In truth, it weighed on you—the thought that Megumi was always the one making adjustments, bending and reshaping his life around you. You couldn’t help but think it was unfair to him, that relationships were supposed to be a two-way street. Yet, here he was, always the one who seemed to be giving more, doing everything he could to be with you.

When you were upset and didn’t want to talk, he’d still reach out, calling you even in the middle of his hectic workday just to make sure you were okay. When you were sick, no matter how busy his schedule was, Megumi was always the first one by your side, taking care of you with a quiet devotion that left you both comforted and conflicted.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you weren’t doing enough to reciprocate the love he so freely gave. It gnawed at you, a constant reminder that no matter how much you loved him, it felt like you were falling short. And that hurt—hurt because you loved him so much, and the thought of him always giving more than he received felt like a wound you couldn’t heal. You wanted to do better, to be better for him, because he deserved nothing less.

That feeling lingered, a quiet ache that settled deep in your chest every time you thought about how much Megumi gave and how little you felt you were able to return. He never complained, never once made you feel like you were a burden. If anything, he seemed happiest when he was with you, when he could be there for you. But that only made it harder to bear, because it felt like you were taking advantage of his kindness, his patience, his love.

You wanted to be the one to call him during a tough day, to show up unexpectedly and take care of him when he needed it most. You wanted to be the one making the sacrifices, the adjustments, to show him that your love for him was just as strong, just as unwavering. But every time you tried, it felt like your efforts fell short, like you couldn’t quite match the depth of his care.

The guilt was a constant shadow, always reminding you of how much he did for you. And no matter how many times he told you that it was enough just to be with you, that he didn’t need anything more than your presence, the doubt remained. Because deep down, you knew how much he meant to you, how deeply you loved him, and the thought of not being able to show that love in the way he deserved made your heart ache.

You resolved, quietly and firmly, to find a way to show him—to let him know just how much he meant to you. Because loving Megumi was the easiest thing in the world, but making sure he felt loved the way he made you feel was something you were determined to do, no matter how long it took. He deserved nothing less, and you would do everything in your power to make sure he knew it.

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IT WAS UNCOMFORTABLE TO SIT THERE AT THAT MOMENT. The ride home was quiet, the hum of the car engine the only sound filling the space between you and Megumi. The silence was thick, not with anger or resentment, but with the weight of unspoken emotions.

You sat beside him, staring out the window, lost in your thoughts. The city lights blurred as they passed by, each one a fleeting reminder of the moments that had slipped through your fingers—moments where you felt you hadn’t done enough, where you had fallen short as his partner.

The guilt gnawed at you, growing heavier with each passing mile. It was the little things that lingered in your mind, the times when you were too tired to ask about his day, when you were preoccupied with your own worries and missed the subtle signs of his struggles.

You replayed the conversations where you had said the right words but lacked the sincerity behind them, or the moments when you were present physically but your mind was elsewhere, distracted by the pressures of your own life.

You stole a glance at Megumi, hoping for some indication of what he was feeling, but his expression remained unreadable. His hands gripped the steering wheel, his focus seemingly on the road ahead, yet you knew his thoughts were likely miles away. You wondered if he, too, was wrestling with his own thoughts, if he was questioning your connection, or if he noticed the same cracks you did.

The guilt weighed on you like a leaden blanket, stifling the words you wanted to say but couldn’t find the courage to voice. You wanted to apologize, to explain that your distance wasn’t a reflection of your love for him, but rather your own struggles—struggles that had nothing to do with him but had somehow seeped into the space between you. But the words remained trapped in your throat, swallowed by the fear of making things worse.

As the car continued its journey, the silence grew more oppressive, filling the space where once there had been easy conversation and shared laughter. You could feel the distance between you, not just physical but emotional, a chasm that seemed to widen with every unspoken thought, every missed opportunity to connect.

Megumi, ever perceptive, noticed your silence. The way you stared out the window, lost in your thoughts, didn’t escape him. He knew you well enough to recognize when something was weighing on you, even if you didn’t voice it. The quiet between you wasn’t the comfortable silence you usually shared; it was heavy, filled with the unspoken tension that had settled in the car like a third passenger.

He glanced over at you, his eyes softening as he took in your expression—the slight furrow of your brow, the way your lips were pressed into a thin line. He could sense the turmoil swirling inside you, even if he didn’t fully understand its cause. Megumi had always been good at reading between the lines, at noticing the subtle shifts in your mood, and this time was no different. He could tell that something was off, that you were shouldering a burden you hadn’t shared with him.

His voice was gentle as he broke the silence, careful not to startle you from your reverie. “Why don’t you stay the night at my place?” he suggested, his tone laced with a warmth that he hoped would ease some of the tension you were feeling. “I’ll cook for you.”

He offered you a small, reassuring smile, trying to coax you out of your thoughts, to remind you that you didn’t have to carry whatever it was alone. Megumi knew that sometimes, all it took was a simple gesture to bring you back to the present, to help you feel grounded again. And cooking for you, spending time together in the quiet comfort of his home, was something he hoped would do just that.

“And then we could watch a movie,” he added, his smile growing a little wider, a bit more playful as he tried to lighten the mood. “I know you wanted to see a film recently, and I finally bought the CD for it.”

His offer was more than just an invitation to spend the night; it was his way of showing you that he cared, that he was there for you, even when words failed. Megumi knew you well enough to understand that sometimes, the best way to show his support wasn’t through grand gestures or deep conversations, but through the simple act of being there, of sharing a meal, a movie, a quiet evening together.

He hoped that by offering this, he could help ease the guilt he sensed you were feeling. He didn’t want you to think you had fallen short as his partner because, in his eyes, you never had.

Fushiguro Megumi had always valued the quiet, unspoken moments between you—the shared silences, the comfort of your presence, the way you understood each other without needing to say much. And tonight, he wanted to remind you of that, to let you know that no matter what was weighing on your mind, you didn’t have to face it alone.

As he waited for your response, his hand reached out to gently touch yours, a silent promise that he was there for you, no matter what. The warmth of his fingers against your skin was a quiet reassurance, a reminder that in the midst of all your doubts and worries, you had someone who loved you, who would always be by your side, ready to lift the weight of the world off your shoulders, even if just for a little while.

You looked at him, the sincerity in his eyes making the guilt even harder to bear. “I’m sorry, Megumi.” you started, your voice wavering as you spoke.

He furrowed his brow, turning his full attention to you. “Why are you apologizing?” he asked, his tone full of concern. “You don’t need to–”

You hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “I… I’ve been an inadequate partner to you.” you confessed, your voice heavy with emotion. “It’s not fair to you, Megumi. You’ve done so much, and I feel like I haven’t done enough in return.”

Megumi let out a soft sigh, shaking his head as he reached over to take your hand in his. “Don’t think like that, hm?” he said gently, his thumb brushing against your knuckles in a soothing gesture. “You’re always worthy of love, of my love. You’ve done well to love me too, you know?”

“But it’s true!” you insisted, your voice cracking as the weight of your feelings pressed down on you. “I feel like I’m always taking, and you’re always giving. It’s not fair to you.”

Megumi was quiet for a moment, his gaze steady and thoughtful. Then, he asked quietly, “Do you love me?”

The question took you by surprise, but you nodded without hesitation. “Of course, I do. I love you more than anything.”

Before you could say more, he cut you off, his voice firm yet tender. “Then love me anyway.” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’ll love you like that too. But in my way. Okay?”

The simplicity of his words hit you with unexpected force, the sincerity behind them bringing tears to your eyes. Your Megumi always knows what to do. He knows how to reach you, to calm you down. To love you back to life. He reached up, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall, his touch gentle and full of affection.

“Don’t worry so much about what you think you should be doing.” Megumi continued, his voice soft and reassuring. “Just love me, and let me love you. That’s all that matters.”

His words wrapped around your heart, easing the guilt and replacing it with a deep sense of peace. You leaned into his touch, nodding as you let his words sink in, knowing that with him, it was enough just to be.

You leaned into Megumi's touch, feeling the warmth of his hand against your cheek as he gently wiped away your tears. His presence was soothing, a quiet strength that you could always rely on, and in that moment, the weight of your worries began to lift, even if just a little.

Megumi pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he held you against him. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a comforting anchor, grounding you in the moment. He didn’t say anything more, allowing the silence to fill with the unspoken understanding between you. 

As the car continued down the quiet streets, Megumi rested his chin on top of your head, his fingers tracing calming patterns on your arm. “You don’t have to be anything more than who you are, okay?” he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you for you—not for what you think you should be.”

His words, so simple yet so full of meaning, resonated deep within you. The guilt that had been weighing you down began to fade, replaced by a warmth that spread through your chest. Megumi had always been like this—steady, unwavering in his love, never asking for more than you could give.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself relax into his embrace, feeling the tension leave your body as you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with him. “I just want to make you happy, Megumi.” you whispered, your voice tinged with emotion.

“And you already do.” Megumi replied without hesitation, his hand finding yours and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Just being with you makes me happy.”

His sincerity brought another wave of tears, but this time, they were tears of relief, of gratitude. You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your heart swelling with love for the man who held you so tenderly, who accepted you with all your flaws and insecurities.

“Thank you, Megumi.” you whispered, your voice cracking slightly as the emotions overwhelmed you. “Thank you for loving me.”

Megumi’s eyes softened, and he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment. “You don’t need to thank me, you know?” he murmured against your skin. “I love you because it’s you. And nothing will ever change that.”

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes searching yours, filled with an affection that made your heartache in the best way possible. “We’ll figure everything out together, okay?” he said softly. “We don’t have to have all the answers right now. As long as we’re together, that’s all that matters.”

You nodded, a small, genuine smile finally breaking through the tears. “Okay.” you agreed, your voice steadier now. “Together.”

Megumi smiled back at you, a look of pure love and reassurance in his eyes. “Together.” he echoed, pulling you back into his arms, holding you close.

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epilogue

A few weeks had passed since that quiet ride home, and in that time, something had shifted between you and Megumi. The weight of your insecurities had eased, replaced by a growing confidence in the love you shared. You found yourself cherishing the little moments even more—the quiet exchanges, the smiles, the unspoken understanding that connected you both.

One evening, after one of Megumi's performances, you found yourself backstage, watching as he wrapped up his set. The energy in the room was electric, the audience’s cheers still echoing as Megumi made his way off the stage. He spotted you immediately, his eyes lighting up as he walked over. Without a word, you reached for him, pulling him into a kiss, a moment of pure connection amidst the chaos around you. A friend snapped a quick Polaroid of the two of you, capturing the tenderness of the moment.

Later that night, as you looked at the photo, an idea came to you. You carefully positioned the Polaroid against a backdrop of Megumi’s stage gear, the memory of that kiss still fresh in your mind. With a smile, you snapped a picture of the Polaroid and opened your social media, ready to share this piece of your world with him—and everyone else.

The caption came naturally: "Here's more Polaroids for you to hide." It was a playful nod to the many photos Megumi had tucked away over the months, small tokens of your relationship that he kept close even when the world wasn’t looking.

You hesitated for a moment before hitting ‘post,’ but something in you felt ready—ready to share this part of your life, ready to take that next step with him.

It didn’t take long for Megumi to see the post. Almost immediately, he shared his own Instagram story, adding his own words beneath your caption: "Only if you let me love you anyway."

His words were simple, but they carried the weight of everything you both had gone through, every doubt, every moment of reassurance, every bit of love that had brought you to this point.

You smiled as you read his response, feeling a warmth spread through you. It was a promise, a reminder of the love you shared, a love that was strong enough to weather anything.

And as the notifications began to roll in, the world catching a glimpse of the two of you together, you felt at peace. Because you knew, no matter what came next, you had each other. And that was enough.

As soon as you posted the Polaroids on your Instagram, the reaction on social media was immediate. Especially on Twitter. Fans of both you and Megumi began flooding the comments with a mix of excitement, surprise, and overwhelming support.

Fan 1: "Wait, are they… official now? My heart can't take this! 😭❤️"

Fan 2: "These Polaroids are so cute! Megumi must be over the moon!"

Fan 3: "I knew something was going on! They’re perfect together. Look at that smile in the last photo!"

Fan 4: "This is the content we've been waiting for! I can't believe it's finally happening!"

Fan 5: "Only if you let me love you anyway" — Fushiguro Megumi, you romantic! 😍"

As you scrolled through the comments, your phone buzzed with an incoming call from Megumi. You know he must be excited. More than he would let on to show. And you knew only you would know. You answered with a smile, hearing the familiar warmth in his voice.

"You saw the post, huh?" you teased.

"I did, I did." Megumi replied, his voice soft but filled with emotion. "I wasn’t expecting you to share those photos just yet. But I want you to know that I’m really glad you did. I finally get to love you in front of everyone.”

"Yeah, I know." you admitted, your heart fluttering. "I just… I wanted to take that step with you. I’m ready, Megumi. Don’t worry. Just let me love you the way you deserve, okay?”

There was a brief pause on the other end, and you could almost picture the gentle smile on Megumi's face. "You already do love me. But let’s keep taking polaroids for me to hide, okay? I still want some things that are just for me, from you.”

You laughed, feeling a wave of affection for him. "I wouldn’t have it any other way."

“I love you.” He whispers on the other side of the line.

You smile, feeling butterflies. “I love you too.”

[xuchiya]

Idk if you're receiving requests, but I wanted to ask a hurt/comfort/fluff where reader is receiving so much hate on the internet and Wooyoung comfort her being the best person as he always been. I'm passing through a hard moment, and need this to feel a little better.

hi my loves, yes I'm always open for request! And I hope things will turn out better for you at the end of the day, don't lose hope okay? I hope this satisfy you, my loves.

"In Wooyoungie's arms" || jung wooyoung || one-shot

|genre: fluff. comfort. angst. idol! wooyoung. girlfriend! reader. |mentions: hate comments. insecurities.

The moment you met Wooyoung inside the company meeting room, the small talks and asserting of flirty words, and the casual walk from the near cafe to grab some drinks for the staff and the boys and the numerous dates he finally took you to.

And the sweet surrender of yes on the night of the countless date nights you both have.

Your life would have to turn over for the best and the worst. It wasn’t discussed within the team to publicise your relationship but fans being fans and their possessiveness with their idols can be a little over the notch as they found out about your relationship with the main dancer of Ateez. While they didn’t know your name or what you looked like—something you were grateful for. 

But it didn’t stop them from attacking you. Indirectly, sometimes directly, their words found a way to reach you.

The glow of your laptop screen felt colder than usual as the hateful comments piled up like bricks on your chest. Wooyoung had warned you about this, his words a mix of care and frustration. "They’re just meaningless words," he’d told you. "Don’t let them break you. They don’t know you like I do."

But the cruelty of their words was precisely the point—to drag you down, make you feel small and undeserving.

Each word you read felt like a dagger, sharp and unrelenting. You had become the topic of conversation for days, and despite your better judgment, you couldn't stop looking. Each glance at the screen chipped away at you, robbing you of your joy, your passion, and your sense of self. The comments weighed heavily on your mind, and over time, the pressure seeped into your body, manifesting in exhaustion and self-doubt.

Your hands gripped your sides as anger and sadness churned inside you. Why couldn’t you be like others your age? Successful, confident, with clear skin and even clearer paths to their futures. The questions spiraled, pulling you deeper into a haze of self-pity and despair.

When you feel your eyes start to burn from staring at the screen a little too long, your hands tremble as you close the browser, you could have avoided going through this but the damage is already done. You were so curious that it killed you. It sent doubt and despair. Tears blurred your vision, and your chest tightened with the weight of emotions you couldn't put into words.

A soft knock at the door broke the silence. 

"Y/N?" Wooyoung's familiar voice called out, gentle but laced with concern. "I brought snacks... Can I come in?"

You quickly wiped your tears, but it was too late. Wooyoung had already stepped inside, carrying a tray of your favorite treats. His expression softened the moment he saw your red eyes and trembling lips. Wooyoung had promised you along the time you were growing inside your relationship, to always provide assurance and no tears to shed. Unless they were happy tears.

"Hey," he whispered, placing the tray on your desk before kneeling in front of you. "What happened?"

You shook your head, trying to muster a smile, but it faltered under his gaze. He reached out, his hands warm and steady as they cupped your cheeks.

"Don't say it's nothing," he murmured. "I can see it, Y/N. Talk to me."

The dam broke, and everything spilled out. Between ragged breaths, you told him about the hateful comments, the overwhelming pressure, and the toll it was taking on you. Wooyoung listened intently, his thumbs gently brushing away your tears as you spoke. His heart ached watching you break down, seeing the vulnerable side of yours. His own heart breaking as he felt helpless in that moment when you’d been carrying these all alone. He pulled you into his arms as you finished, holding you as though you were the most precious thing in the world. 

When you finally finished, he pulled you into his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world. "Y/N, listen to me," he said, his voice firm but kind. "Those people don’t know you. Their words only have as much power as you let them have."

You clung to him, his warmth grounding you. "But it hurts, Wooyoung. It’s like they’re always waiting for me to mess up."

"I know it hurts," he said, his fingers threading through your hair soothingly. "And I wish I could shield you from all of it but what I know …" His fingers run down above your chest, pointing softly where your heart beats slowly. You look at him expectantly.

“The scars that carved your heart are what makes you feel alive.” He leaned back slightly, looking into your eyes with a soft smile. "You're not alone in this, okay? We’re a team. And if anyone has a problem with you, they’ll have to deal with me."

A small laugh escaped your lips despite the tears. "That sounds dangerous."

Wooyoung also let out a small laugh. A moment of silence made you both bask in each other's presence. Wooyoung brushed a stray hair behind your ear, his eyes staring at your shaking ones. His hand lands softly on your cheek, as you lean in on his warmth that made his chest bloom in admiration. 

His thumb caressing your cheek,  “Life comes with a lot of baggage and you don’t know which one carries the heaviest and which one has to go.” 

The tension in your chest eased in his words as Wooyoung picked up one of the snacks from the tray. "Now, let’s eat. You can’t fight internet trolls on an empty stomach."

You chuckled, taking the snack he handed you. "Thank you, Wooyoung. For everything."

"Always," he said, sitting beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Now, let’s watch a movie or something. Something funny. No sad stuff allowed."

With Wooyoung by your side, the world felt a little less heavy, you allowed yourself to smile genuinely, knowing you were loved and supported by the best person you could ever ask for. 

And for the first time that day, you come to realize that life indeed has a lot in store for you, either you remove them from you or share them with people. You don’t have to carry what you can no longer hold on to, it’s time for you to realize that having them with you will only drag you down and slower. Find the time to declutter inside your mind and things will be easier for you. Time heals and scars rejoice. 

i hope this one helps, my loves.

[girlbossagenda]

Hi! I love your posts! Can you do one on: how to stop fawning over pretty more “seemingly” confident and educated women our age? I tend to do fawning and it’s embarrassing because I want to have more successful and confident friends but I end up being a pushover or weirdly admire them wayyyy to much and I become nervous speaking to them. Thanks so much!

HOW TO STOP FAWNING OVER OTHER GIRLS AND BE YOUR N°1 FAN

Omg, this is such and underrated topic!! Thanks for asking, we usually see the beauty and the light in other people, to the point that we stop seeing the true beauty inside of us, sometimes we ever become doormats to our own friends, Time to change! So here's how:

౨ৎCREATE CLEAR BOUNDARIES౨ৎ

Girl stop showing up for every single little thing, especially if they won't do it for you too!

౨ৎDON'T SPEND TIME WITH THE SAME PEOPLE ALL THE TIMES౨ৎ

Try to enter in different rooms with different people and found in which roon you are more appreciated, maybe you shine more in a place full of alternative people or in a place with the classic ig influencer!

౨ৎDON'T BE EASILY ACCESSIBLE౨ৎ

People are going to take you fro granted if you're the one who always shows up, especially if the plan it's last minute, ofc, I'm telling you to not skip every meeting or people will start to not invite you, but take in consideration to live more for yourself.

Sometimes saying "No sorry for this day I can't" or "sorry maybe next time" can help you gain more appeal and make you feel more confident.

౨ৎPUT THEM DOWN OF THE MF PEDESTAL౨ৎ

Why bow to them and not bow to yourself? What makes them so special? Are you not the main character of your life? So act like it! take space, act like the leading role!!!

౨ৎTIME FOR A GLOW UPPP౨ৎ

If you are bringing down your looks, I suggest to actually practice some for of selfcare along side with putting in practice some glow up tips, starting from the basics to then reaching the top level!!(I might post a glow up guide soon!!)

౨ৎGET TO KNOW YOURSELF౨ৎ

When you know yourself, you know how much you are worthy, do it for your younger self, once you get to know how you are inside, you'll start to idolize your own self

౨ৎEDUCATE YOUR SELF౨ৎ

If it's education the proble, gain more knowledge, get educated, but don't always talk about it randomly ofìr people are gonna take you for a show off, instead try to share that knowledge by going to acculturated places, or inviting them out somewhere like a museum, a book review meeting, a festival etc...

Sorry for the late answer, you know In middle school I hed your same problem, but I solved it by simply avoiding this type of girls and focusing on myself, so every single time whe had some type of conversation I could handle it with my brain(I wasn't that much of a beauty back then lol). I hope you have a great day, and I hope I helped xoxo gougeous

-𝓐

[silence-burns]

Just A Prank

Fandom: Fast and Furious

It'd been a while since Han had a chance to meet with so many familiar faces. With the sun high in the sky, and the smell of barbecue in the air, it was almost possible to enjoy it all.

He tried his best to ignore all the photos being taken of him by Tej and Roman enjoying themselves a little too much.

“You did hear me when I told you that I don't need all this?” Han asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“Shhh, let the geniuses work. You're coming back to life in style!”

“Your silly dating app is no magical tool.”

“Oh no, no, pretty boy, the magicians are all in there, trust me,” Roman chuckled, not looking up from Han’s phone.

The day was too nice to stain it with pointless arguments, so Han turned back to his beer. His drink was slowly becoming lukewarm, both the sun and his warm palm working to heat it up.

He smiled to himself when he noticed Dom and Letty arrive in the driveway. Their boy was already running halfway through the yard. Han could've sworn it was only yesterday when he was taking his first steps. He made a mental note to visit the area more often. He had many reasons to.

“And what might this be? The lone wolf, drinking himself unconscious before the main course even arrives at the table? That's not a good look on you, Han.”

He glanced up at you and the beer froze halfway to his lips. You’d managed to sneak up on him, but no matter how many times it happened, his heart always skipped a few beats.

“I'm glad that being fashionably late is always a good look on you, then,” he replied through a tight throat, wondering whether you could hear the sudden rasp in his voice.

“How sweet. Good to know that one thing hasn’t changed.”

The smile you offered him blinded him more than the sun behind your back, but before his brain unfroze, Roman popped up right next to him, pushing the phone into Han’s hand.

“60 seconds on the app and look how successful you already are! The more the merrier, but I'd still suggest looking through this part in their profiles, just in case—...”

The rest drifted from Han's mind the moment he noticed your eyes looking down on his screen. There weren't any obvious changes on your face, but he saw the tension in your shoulders.

“Have fun,” was the only thing you said before you walked away from his spot to greet the rest of the ever growing family. Many voices overlapped, but he still only could hear yours.

Roman was already gone, unaware of what had transpired. He drifted off to the barbecue, acquiring a plate and a fork from somewhere Han couldn’t see.

Han put his beer down. He’d lost interest in it, and conceded the fight for its temperature to the sun.

The day wasn't supposed to go like this. It'd been a while since he last saw you. The time away had only made him miss the missions when the two of you paired up together more. Even if nothing ever happened, he could feel the invisible pull, as if gravity itself wanted to push him closer to you.

Getting it out of his head was a difficult task, and it only felt worse the closer he was to you.

Hours passed, and even though Han enjoyed the party and catching up with everyone, one thought at the back of his head wouldn't let him relax. He'd already turned his phone off, because dealing with the constant meaningless notifications was beyond his patience, but the harm had already been done. He could feel it in the way you made sure to be busy when Han approached, and how the only times you looked in his direction were during polite but group conversation that bounced from one topic to another.

It’d taken Han all of his self control not to run after you when he noticed you finally walking to the side, probably to lug a new crate of beer to the tables.

The evening sun was painting long shadows behind the house, but you still noticed Han following you.

“You can take the second one, if you're so eager to help.” You nodded to the side before walking past him.

Han took half a step to the left, blocking you ever so slightly.

“It was a misunderstanding,” he blurted quietly. He could've found better words to put everything back in place, but none came to him in the past few hours. “Roman was just being an ass. It's a very natural state to him.”

“I don't know what you're talking about. As far as I'm concerned, you are an adult capable of making your own choices. Have your fun, enjoy the world. That's what life is all about, right?”

The smile you presented him was just as wide as he remembered it, but it held no joy that used to pull him in like a moth to a flame.

“Life is more than shallow enjoyment. Especially when you bind yours together with another one.”

You snorted under your breath. The crate was not getting any lighter and your arms began to ache, so you put it down next to your feet. As much as you wanted to move on and get back to the party, it didn't look like you were getting a chance soon, unless you decided to walk directly through the blooming bushes next to the path.

“Han, we've been through this already. Just because we've—...”

“I was a fool for not making myself clear before, but I intend to fix it.” He took half a step closer without taking his eyes off you. “There is no reason for me to look at any of those strange apps Roman insisted on, because no one I actually want to find is in there. They are right in front of me and I have been too blind to see them.”

You blinked. He was still there, staring at you with a complicated mixture of hope and worry painted over his face. It was a strange sight coming from a person usually so composed, but a part of you was relieved to hear him.

“You could've just asked me to dinner.”

Han leaned down to effortlessly pick up the crate by your feet. “I could and I will. How about we start with a beer first?”