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arminsumi · 8 months

Text

WHO IS SHE?

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

A Kyoto student gives the Six Eyes a run for his money during the tournament. Are they really fighting or just flirting?

M.LIST

1.2k

Summary : during the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event, a student Gojo encounters someone who can match his strength. It's not humbling. It hurts his pride. But neither of you can deny the tension between you two. You and him are just flirting back and forth like crazy, forming a lustful rivalry.

Warnings : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : mature/18+ content, not proofread, blood, innuendos / suggestive jokes (use of daddy, kitten), sexual/romantic tension, rivalry, making a sexual bet (bj if gojo wins 🫡), cliffhanger ending ig

Note : ayo... AYOOOOOOO!!! i found this idea in the drafts from 3 months ago and wrote smth for it... LET ME KNOW IF U WANT MORE??? bc there's more content for it... hehe 🤭💗 it's got that rivals that wanna fuck type beat ig

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works

There's crimson blood dribbling out his nose, and he wipes it away in amazement.

What the hell just hit me?

"Heyyy Six Eyes~!" you smile, split-sitting on a branch.

Gojo Satoru rears his head up at you and squints from the sun. He makes out your figure, hears your voice, and feels this sense of mortality. It gives him a rush.

Fuck. Who is she...? That Kyoto student?

"Oh. Hey Kyoto Princess." He returns condescendingly. He sinks his hands in his pockets to look at ease, though he's anything but in your presence right now. You really shook him up there.

"The blood looks hot on you." you flirt and cause his heartbeat to accelerate.

"Uh-huh... you gonna stay up there like a scaredy cat or you gonna come down here and show me those claws again, kitten?"

He's trying so hard to scramble up those words. He's trying so hard to seem intimidating. To stand his ground against you. He's trying so very, very hard. He's straining himself. Neck tendons pronouncing with his hard swallow. Sweat beading off his forehead.

Damn the summer sun. It makes the tournament so much harder. Though admittedly, he'd be startled by your technique during any season.

You lean down and make a feline movement that makes something click in the horny region of his brain.

"Nah, I like the view from up here... why don't you climb up 'n come give me kitty cuddles?" you say.

Ooh. That voice is chilling. I like it.

"No fucking way." he laughs incredulously. "You can come."

"Oh is daddy giving his kitten permission to cum?" you play.

His eyes go wide. "What the fu—"

There's a rush of wind, your friend interrupts the awkward flirting and comes to your side and asks you what the situation is.

"Why the hold up? You said you'd come 'round again, I was waiting for you. That bangs guy is kind of a menace... 'coulda used your help."

"Sorry..." you smile and maintain this electric eye contact with Gojo. "I got a bit infatuated with Mister Six Eyes over there. He's quite the cutie pie."

Gojo's heart flutters... and he hates it. He feels boyish because of you. Like he's just some dumb teenager with a crush on the hot girl who gave him a nosebleed. Literally, in this case.

"Uh... okay...? Sheesh. Were you trying to fight him or cause deforestation?" your friend grimaces at the splintered and split trees. "Um... anyways... can we go, or are you two still busy flirting?"

"I'm coming, alright." you wink at Gojo.

"What the fu— SUGURU."

Oh, such good timing. Bangs guy appears.

"What's the hold up?" Suguru asks.

Your friend chimes, "That's what I was asking! These two are fucking flirting!"

"Haha, what? Oh Satoru... why is your nose all bloody?" Suguru asks nonchalantly.

"A cat scratched me."

"...? What? What happened?"

"She happened." Gojo glares at you.

You wave at him. He wishes he could bite you, but he's not ready just yet to approach you.

Suguru looks at his friend, then at you, then at the damaged trees, and his features grow both impressed and confused.

"You're telling me... a tiny thing like her did all this?"

Gojo shrugs funnily, "Yeah, she's pretty romantic, isn't she?"

You wink at him. He feels a pang in his chest and furrows his brows.

"Okay. Yeah. Sam, I see what you mean about them flirting."

"Right?"

You giggle. Gojo groans.

There's an auditory announcement echoing through the forest.

Today's event is ending, please return to the starting point.

"Aw, playtime is over. See you next time, Six Eyes."

"Keep callin' me Six eyes, princess, I fucking dare you." Gojo seethes.

All four of you trek back to the starting point. Gojo is stealing hot glances of you, looking grumpy but feeling his pants tighten. You're sweating from the heat. So is he.

I can make you weak for me. Just you wait.

"Satoru, tell me all about it. I want the details." Suguru leans close and asks in a hushed tone. You're busy talking to your friend, outright humiliating poor Mister Six Eyes to her.

"She's too damn fast." he grumbles, rubbing his neck to get the tension out. You really gave his poor body a beating back there. "Like a flicker in my vision... uh, but the main reason she was a challenge was because of all that flirting, of course."

"Oh, yeah right..." Suguru rolls his eyes, then leans even closer, "Was she really flirting with you?"

"Yeah..."

"Lucky."

"What the hell, Suguru." Gojo laughs.

"You should make a move. I'm sure she's got a thing for you. She keeps looking over." Suguru encourages.

"Are you high? She really fucked me up back there. Anyways... I think her flirting was condescending. That's why I flirted condescendingly back. Shit what if she was actually flirtin' with me..."

Satoru and Suguru look at you. And you look back. Your friend is snickering and it bothers Satoru.

But nothing bothers him more than that smug face of yours. He marches right up to you in the corridors later, when it's just you and him.

He pins you right against the wall and you giggle, letting him show off his strength and height.

His breath tickles your face, his eyes threaten to burn your soul.

"Next time, I'll win." he seethes in a deep voice. He notes how you squeeze your thighs together.

"Wanna bet?" you smile seductively.

"Sure. If I win, you have to tell all your cute little friends about how Mister Six Eyes is stronger than you." he says.

"Okay. Whatever. If I win..."

He listens intently.

"... I get to suck your dick."

He blushes. Stutters. Brain freezes. Malfunctions.

Wow. What. Huh?

"Haha, you're cute. Have you never received head before?" you ask forwardly.

His conscious skips beats, words tumble out.

"I — uh... y-yeah of course I have!" he lies.

"Sure you have, big boy." you bring your lips closer and he dissolves. He's so fucked. He's so turned on by you it's actually pissing him off.

He doesn't move away, just lets you graze your lips over his own. You make him shudder. Make his cock start to strain against his tight uniform pants.

"So... are we taking this bet then?"

"Y-yeah... yes. Um. Yes. Absolutely. Please."

"Haha... okay then. See you tomorrow... Satoru~"

Wow. You just broke him there. He doesn't move or speak, just stands motionlessly blinking at the wall as you slip away out of his pinning grip.

He thinks to himself;

Nah. I don't think I care about winning anymore. Screw pride.

But then comes the next morning and... he swells with pride.

Nah. Screw her. I don't need to feel her lips wrapping around my dick.

"Hey, Six Eyes." you greet him at the tournament grounds, flirting so unashamedly that you earn a very disapproving looks from the teachers.

"Hey, Kyoto Princess." he greets back, "flirting" too. His stomach flips when you lick your lips suggestively, as a callback to the bet you made with him.

"Wish ya luck." you tell him.

"I don't need it." he retaliates.

Suguru and your friend just distantly watch, snickering, at the sexual tension between you and Gojo Satoru;

Your natural rival. When he was born, so were you, meant to exist as the only thing that could weaken the Six Eyes.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

2K notes · View notes

sailortongue · 9 months

Text

Sweet Tooth

pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

wc: 4.5k

summary: spencer finds himself frequenting a local donut establishment for more reasons than one. his sweet tooth isn't limited to just pastries and he bets you'd taste delicious

cw: oral (fem receiving), fingering. pls pls pls let me know if i missed smth but i think those are the only major things

------

It was widely known that Spencer was fond of overly sweet coffee, but his sweet tooth was not limited to just his morning pick-me-up. The team had recently wrapped up with a rather grueling case, and he thought he’d surprise them all with donuts that morning. So there he was, in the local donut shop, staring at what must have been the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. The way the early morning light shone in through the windows and illuminated you was truly breathtaking. Try as he might, he stumbled over the order, embarrassing himself in front of you and surely ruining his chances of you liking him.

You could tell he was flustered, so you did your best to suppress your giggles. He was cute. Very cute. This was the first time you had seen him come into the store, and you were hoping it wasn’t the last. He paid for his order and you boxed it up, receiving a shy smile from him as you handed it to him. “Thank you,” he said, before turning and walking out quickly, the bell above the door chiming.

It was a little over a week before you saw him again. He greeted you with a “good morning” as he walked in and approached the counter.

“Good morning!” you said back cheerily, glad to see that he had returned. He scanned the selection of confections before selecting a chocolate donut with sprinkles.

“Huh, I thought you’d be more of a donut hole kind of guy,” you said, trying to make conversation with the handsome man.

He laughed a bit and shook his head. “No, chocolate and sprinkles are definitely the best. They've been my favorite since I was a kid.”

“Oh yeah? I think if I was to pick a favorite it would have to be the apple fritter.”

Not missing the chance to learn about you, even if it was just your favorite donut, he asked, “Why that one? Not that it's a bad choice, but most people seem to prefer the chocolate and glazed.”

You laughed and Spencer swore his heart melted right then and there. “Well, they're my dad’s favorite. And every time he had one he would split it between us. So not only is it delicious, but it reminds me of my childhood.”

He smiled at your wholesome reason and before he could stop himself he said, “That’s really cute.”

You blushed, consumed with the thought that he considered something about you was cute, even if it was something so minor as to why your favorite donut is what it is. God, you didn't even know his name and there you were, developing a crush. Your eyes met his, and you were awestruck at how warm and inviting they looked. He had these expressive brown eyes that you could get lost in if you allowed yourself to. You shook your head from your thoughts, realizing you were probably freaking him out. He was just here for a donut and here you were staring at him like some creep. You hadn’t even bagged it for him yet. Pull yourself together you chastised yourself internally, finally breaking eye contact and doing your job like a normal person.

When you handed him the bag he briefly glanced down at your name tag. “Thanks, Yn,” he said, giving you a small smile. What a pretty name, he thought.

“No problem, have a good day…” you trailed off, hoping he would introduce himself. It was only fair since he knew your name.

“Spencer,” he filled in for you.

“Spencer,” you repeated. “I’ll have to remember that for next time.”

–❀–

Next time turned out to be three days later. You were back in the kitchen, not expecting a customer to be there so early until you heard the bell chime. “I’ll be right there!” you called out. You quickly rinsed your hands and were still drying them on a towel when you walked out to see a familiar mop of brown hair. “Spencer! Good morning!”

He chuckled, “Good morning, Yn.”

“Chocolate with sprinkles?” you asked, remembering his favorite.

“You remembered?”

“You’re beginning to become a regular, and I make it a point to memorize those orders.”

Spencer’s smile dropped a bit, somewhat disheartened that it was something you did for all customers and not just him.

You didn’t notice the slight change in his expression and continued, deciding to take a chance. “Plus, it’s hard to forget the cute customers.”

Spencer’s face instantly flushed crimson, all logical thought leaving him. So much for his high IQ. His mouth opened and closed again, desperately trying to formulate some sort of response. But Spencer couldn't even think straight. His thoughts were in a flurry and every single one was about you.

Seeing his reaction, you backpedaled as fast as you could. “I’m sorry. That was too forward of me. I don’t know why I said that. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable—”

“It’s perfectly alright.” He cut off your frantic apology. “You didn't make me uncomfortable at all. I’m actually quite flattered that you find me as attractive as I find you.”

It was your turn to be speechless. When his words fully sunk in, you couldn't stop the wide smile and giggle that bubbled forth. This man was going to be the death of you. “So, uh,” he started nervously, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck, “I was wondering if I could get your number?”

You beamed at him. “Yes, of course!” You went to the register and rang him up, writing your phone number on his receipt before handing it to him. He dialed it into his phone, and you heard your phone ringing faintly from the break room where you had left it. “There,” he said. “Now you have my number, too.”

–❀–

Your morning rendezvous with Spencer quickly became the highlight of your week. He was always dressed professionally, and you finally decided to ask him where he worked. The two of you talked about nearly everything under the sun, so you were shocked when you came to the realization that you didn't even know what he did for work.

The next time he came in, you practically ambushed him with your question. His eyes widened in surprise, “Oh, I’m an agent with the BAU. Did I not tell you that?”

“No, you did not. What’s the BAU?”

“It stands for behavioral analysis unit. It’s a department of the FBI. We analyze the unsub’s-”

“Unsub?” you interrupted.

“Unidentified subject. So what we do is analyze the unsub’s actions and behavior and create a profile to better understand how and why they do what they do. This is what allows us to determine the identity of the unsub and arrest them.”

Your jaw had dropped open during his explanation. The guy you’d been casually talking to turned out to be an FBI agent. Cute and badass.

Becoming shy from the attention, he changed the subject to something he’d been wanting to ask you. “So, Yn, would you be interested in meeting somewhere other than here? When you're not at work and I don't have to go to my own job?”

Your face flushed with heat, and your heart pounded in your chest. “Like a date?”

Trusting that your hopeful expression was a good indication, Spencer nodded. “Yeah, like a date.”

The bright smile you gave him at his confirmation would live in Spencer’s mind for the rest of the day.

“I’m free this weekend,” you suggested.

–❀–

And just like that, it became a routine for Spencer to visit the shop at least once a week. He began to find himself getting up earlier and earlier each day just so he could stay and talk with you for longer. The physical attraction was instant from the first moment he saw you, but now that he was truly getting to know you he was falling and falling fast. You had this light about you that Spencer couldn't put into words, even with his impressive vocabulary.

Reid’s highly observant coworkers were quick to notice his frequent morning donut runs. He never ate them at the shop, choosing to use that time to visit with you. Instead, he waited until he got to the office so he could enjoy the sweet goodness with his daily cup of coffee. And today was no exception.

“All those donuts are going to catch up with you one day, Reid,” Prentiss teased. “You can't be skinny forever.”

“So be it. She's worth it,” replied Spencer, taking another bite, sprinkles falling onto the napkin he’d placed on his desk.

“She?” Morgan raised his brows, a grin spreading across his face as he turned in his chair to face the young doctor.

Spencer’s eyes widened and he nearly choked on his food, trying to figure out a way to take back his slip of the tongue. “I meant they. They’re worth it. The donuts.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. So what’s her name?”

Spencer sighed. “Yn.” That was all he said as he pulled his paperwork towards himself. No point in denying it when they were already certain.

“Woah, woah, you can't just leave it at that! Tell us about her. What's she like and how did you meet? Spill everything.”

Spencer merely took another bite of his donut, a smug smirk on his face for withholding the information his colleagues were so curious about.

For the rest of the day, Morgan and Prentiss attempted to convince Spencer to divulge his sweet secret. After another failed attempt, it finally hit Morgan, and he had to admit he felt very silly for it. He waited until Spencer left on his lunch break before he approached Emily’s desk.

“Hey, what’s up?” she asked.

“What’s up is that Hotch should probably reconsider our positions on the team,” he joked. “The donut bag. It’s in Reid’s personal mini trash can under his desk. All we have to do is look at it real quick and we’ll know exactly which shop he goes to!”

Emily laughed, amused how it took so long for one of them to think of that. “Then what are we waiting for? Let's go dig in the doctor’s trash.”

They both stood and went over to Spencer’s desk. Morgan reached under and pulled out the small trash can, plucking the crumpled bag from the top. As he flattened the bag back out, a voice startled the two of them and they spun around in unison, like two kids that had been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“Why are you two digging in the kid’s trash?”

“Reid has a girl in his life and if he wont tell us then we’re gonna find out ourselves. She’s either a regular at this place—” he held up the bag, displaying the logo for Rossi to see, “—or she works there.”

“Hm. I see. Carry on, then,” was all he said before continuing on his way.

The younger agents turned their attention back to what they were digging for. “Meche’s Donuts,” they both read aloud.

“Pretty sure that’s close to Reid’s place. Y’know, I think some donuts tomorrow morning would be great, don’t you?”

“Now that you say it, yeah, donuts would be good. Meet you there at 8:00?”

“You bet.” He recrumpled the bag and replaced the trash can as it was.

When Reid returned, he didn't notice the look his friends exchanged and was none the wiser.

–❀–

The next morning, both Emily and Derek got up earlier than usual and met in the parking lot of Meche’s. They approached the building, and Derek held open the door for Emily, the bell chiming to notify you of a customer’s arrival.

“Good morning!” you greeted like usual.

They returned your greeting as they neared the counter, both of their sights narrowing in on your name tag: Yn.

“Has a guy named Spencer Reid been here today?” Morgan asked, never one to beat around the bush.

“No, do you know him?” You asked curiously.

“Yeah, we’re friends of his. We noticed that his sweet tooth has been getting the better of him lately. Lots of donuts,” he smirked, gesturing down to the transparent display. “Pretty boy had a bit of a slip up and told us that it was because of a girl, but wouldn’t tell us anything else. So we decided to do a bit of sleuthing.”

“And here we are,” finished Emily. “I’m Agent Emily Prentiss and this is Agent Derek Morgan. Promise we’re not creeps, this is just the first time we’ve known him to have a crush on someone and we wanted to know what you looked like. He’s got good taste at least.”

You laughed good-naturedly, “Don't worry about it. We have a date scheduled for this weekend actually.”

Emily ooohed like a schoolgirl. “You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I’m dying to know. What is Spencer’s idea of a date? Bet he takes you to a bookstore.”

“Or a foreign movie,” interjected Morgan. “With no subtitles, so he can whisper the translations in your ear.”

–❀–

Saturday

You were getting ready for your date with Spencer when you heard your phone ring. The caller ID told you that it was Spencer calling and butterflies erupted in your stomach.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I was just calling to let you know I’m on my way.”

“Ok, perfect! I’m almost done getting ready. You remember the address?”

He laughed. “Of course I remember. There’s not much I don’t remember.”

“Oh, my bad Dr. Reid. We can't all be super geniuses with an eidetic memory.”

The two of you talked and joked with each other until Spencer told you that he was parking and would be up in a moment to meet you at the door. All you had to do was quickly slip your shoes on and you were ready.

Three sharp raps sounded from the door, and you peeked through the peephole before unlocking the door and swinging it open.

He seemed stunned for a second, just taking in your appearance. “Wow,” was all he could think to say. “You look beautiful.”

“And you look very handsome,” you returned the compliment. And he did, as always. He was probably the only guy you knew who could pull off a sweater vest. He may dress like an old man, but damn did he make it work.

Turns out that he picked out some hole in the wall diner you’d never even heard of. But he swore by their food and claimed it was some of the best in town. Also that they made a mean bread pudding. A broad smile overtook his features when he saw your eyes light up at the mention of the dessert. He’d recalled from a previous conversation that it was your favorite and had made sure to choose a restaurant that had it on the dessert menu.

The meal was spent indulging in a lively conversation about all of your favorite books. He even suggested a book exchange; he’d load you his favorite, and you’d loan him yours. Though you did warn him that you might have to pick up a new copy first, as yours was particularly old and practically on the verge of disintegrating in your hands.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad,” he said.

“No, it is!” you insisted. “The last time I read it I looked down and there were a bunch of particles on my lap from the pages.”

After picking up the check at the diner, Spencer informed you that there was a movie he wanted to take you to. “It’s a Russian movie, and I’m not sure if there’s subtitles or not, but I can whisper the translations for you. But I definitely think you’ll enjoy the plot.”

You thought back to what Morgan said when he and Emily visited you. Morgan: 1, Emily: 0.

Turns out, there were, in fact, subtitles. However, Spencer claimed those weren't very accurate to the tone of the movie and chose to give you his own translations anyway. In order to not disturb other movie goers, he had to lean in to whisper, so close that his lips would occasionally brush the shell of your ear. If not for the fact you were already sitting, you thought your knees would have given out. The low timbre of his voice traveled straight from your eardrum all the way to your core. You tried to pay attention to the movie, you really did, but the gentle rasp of Spencer’s voice in your ear had you beyond distracted. He was so close. Between the close proximity and his voice, your panties were quickly becoming uncomfortably sticky which led you to squirm in your seat occasionally.

Spencer, the hyper-observant profiler that he was, noticed your pitiful attempts to adjust the way you were sitting. “Are you ok?” he asked, interrupting his translation mid sentence.

“Yes!” you answered hurriedly. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You cleared your throat nervously and hoped he would let it go. You could see a slight frown form on his face before it looked as if a metaphorical lightbulb went off over his head.

He resumed his position near your face, once again whispering to you, but not translations this time. No, this time it was as if a switch had flipped inside the sweet man you’d become so fond of. “If I didn't know any better, I’d say you like having me so close to you. Isn't that right, Yn?”

The way he whispered your name so sensually had your heart beating out of your chest and your breath hitching in response. His laughter came out as a huff, trying to stay quiet. “Think you can wait until the end of the movie?” he asked with a suggestive lilt to his words.

You both knew the answer, but you pretended to think about it in an effort to spare at least some of your dignity. “No,” you answered with your head down, almost ashamed at how easily Spencer had riled you up.

“‘No’ what? Use your words, sweetheart.”

To hell with your dignity. “No, I can't wait. I want you now.”

He grabbed your hand and pulled you up from your seat as he stood. He led you out the doors and to the parking lot, heading straight for his car.

“Where are we going?”

“My apartment.” he answered swiftly as he put his hand on the back of your seat to back out of the parking spot.

The ride to his apartment was spent mostly in silence, both of you tense for all the best reasons. At one of the red lights he’d made the bold move to relocate one of his hands from the steering wheel to your left thigh, rubbing his thumb back and forth and gently squeezing it every now and then. Every squeeze sent a bolt of electricity to your center and you were getting needier by the second.

–❀–

As soon as his apartment door shut behind him, his mouth was on yours, lips crashing together in a heated kiss. With both hands on either side of your face, he licked the seam of your lips impatiently, wanting nothing more than to taste you. You obliged, and his tongue snaked its way into your mouth, intertwining with yours. He groaned into the kiss, unable to get enough of you. Pulling away from your lips, he kissed down your jaw and neck slowly, deliberately. Taking his time to leave dark marks in his wake. He took a deep breath in through his nose. “You have no idea what this perfume was doing to me at the movie. Could barely even translate for you,” he mumbled into your skin.

“Bedroom?” you asked, near breathless with anticipation but not particularly wanting to get fucked in his entryway.

He led you through his apartment to his bedroom where Spencer wasted no time reconnecting his lips to yours, backing you up until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, prompting you to sit. Before you could lay down, his hands tugged on the hem of your shirt. “Let’s get this off of you, hm?”

He made quick work of the cloth and tossed it aside “God, you're so pretty. Lay down for me, sweetheart,” he said. You flushed and did as he told you, scooting yourself higher up on the bed before laying your head onto his pillows. He removed both his sweater vest and shirt before eagerly crawling atop you. He propped himself up on his elbows, his face aligned with yours. You impatiently leaned up to kiss him again, and you could feel him grinning into the harsh kiss before kissing you back. His hands wandered across your body, settling on your breasts. You moaned into his mouth and pressed your chest further into his large hands, your hips bucking up, seeking the friction you so desperately wanted.

He chuckled, removing his hands from your breasts to your hips and holding them down, preventing you from moving them and eliciting a whine from you. “Patience, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you. Promise.” His voice was low and gravelly, his lips pressed against the skin just under the skin of your earlobe. He suckled the skin lightly as one hand came up behind your back, unclasping your bra and giving it the same treatment he gave your shirt. He pulled back and groaned at the sight of seeing you half naked beneath him. This felt like a dream come true to Spencer and it was taking everything he had to not throw his inhibitions out the window and ravish you right that second.

He groped your bare chest for a moment before leaning down to lick a stripe between them. He placed feather-light kisses across your skin, his hair falling over his face and tickling you where it brushed. His trail of kisses led him to one of your nipples, which he took in his mouth, sucking lightly. You gasped when he used his teeth to pull on it slightly. “Spencer!”

While his mouth was busy with one, he had a hand on the other, tweaking the bud between his nimble fingers. You raked your hands through his hair, holding him in place. The tug on his roots had Spencer groaning into your chest and increasing the intensity of his ministrations and suckling you more and more fervently with each tug of his hair and sweet moan from your lips. Satisfied, he released your bud with a slight pop and switched to the other side, determined to make you squirm and beg for him before he touched you properly. The hand that wasn't on your breast lowered from your waist to your hip, massaging the supple flesh.

“Please, Spencer,” you begged, needing so much more than he was currently giving you. You were aching for him, panties soaked with evidence of your want.

He released your nipple and tilted his head to look at your face, both of your pupils blown wide with lust. He cooed at you, “What does my pretty girl need? Tell me, and it’s yours.”

“You!” you cried. “I want you! Please, Spencer!”

He groaned, the sound low and guttural. “You already have me. I was yours from the first moment I laid eyes on you.” Your eyes softened from his words, and you watched him as he tilted his head back down, tracing his nose down your abdomen as he lowered himself further down the bed, his hands caressing your sides as he did so. He placed a chaste kiss just above the waistband of your bottoms before hooking his fingers under it. “May I?”

You nodded frantically, and he placed another kiss in the same spot as he pulled your shorts and panties down together, tantalizingly slowly. Finally seeing you completely bare before him had him nearly cumming in his pants on the spot. You were so perfect and he wanted to make you feel so good that the only name you knew was his. He ran his hands up your thighs and settled his head between them. “You're absolutely dripping for me, sweetheart.” Spencer was practically panting from the lust flowing through his veins. He placed a chaste kiss to your clit before tentatively licking your cunt. You let out a strangled moan, his hot tongue not providing near enough pressure.

“Don’t tease me, Spence,” you mewled, your hands weakly trying to push his head back down where you needed him.

“Savoring, baby, not teasing. I don’t want to forget a single moment of this.” With that said, he licked a broad stripe across your pussy, much more confident than the first time. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked harshly, groaning into you. You cried out his name, grip on his hair tightening. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he said breathlessly before diving back in, slurping at you like a man starved. He hummed with bliss as he continued to eat you out, the vibrations adding to the stimulation. “So sweet, baby, oh my God,” he praised. He lifted your legs and placed them over his shoulders, pressing himself further into you as he wrapped his arms around your thighs.

It was all you could do to keep from screaming his name as he continued to lick and suck at the most intimate part of you. You thrashed in his hold, overwhelmed with the pleasure he was giving you. He tightened his hold on your thighs, holding you open so he could continue to drink you in. He swore he would never be able to get enough of you. If this was the last thing he ever did then he'd die a happy man.

“C’mon, sweetheart, cum on my face. Give it to me. I want it,” he grunted. Without warning, he plunged a finger into you, causing you to cry out. He added a second finger shortly after, and he relished in the way your walls were squeezing around his fingers. You were so close and it was all because of him. With his fingers thrusting in and out of you and his mouth on your clit, you were finally pushed over the edge, cumming with a scream of Spencer’s name. He didn't stop until you were practically shoving him away, the overstimulation becoming too much. His face was covered in your juices, and you watched with rapt attention as he licked his lips before wrapping them around the two digits still covered with your wetness, sucking them clean and groaning at the taste as he did it.

Yeah, Spencer Reid definitely had a sweet tooth.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut

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h00nerz · 1 year

Text

murphy’s law!

masterlist | 1k celebration

pairing: choi beomgyu x gn!reader

genre: angst, fluff, high school au, troublemaker!beomgyu, stuco president!reader, kind of one sided enemies to lovers if you squint

word count: 3.2k (im so sorry)

warnings: none afaik? just burnt out reader

prompt(s): #5 — “why are you crying?”

requested: “hi! congratulations on 1k followers!!! for the event, can i have prompt 5 with beomgyu? what i had on mind was like highschool au and reader just had a bad day or smth and had to stay after school to clean, and started crying in the classroom alone and beomgyu was also in the school and heard reader crying and found that it was his long time crush? i hope this makes sense! sorry if this was too long too😓 thank you in advance!!♥️♥️” — @loveliii

authors note: omg the first drabble of the celebration... except apparently i can’t write drabbles so it’s more of a oneshot plz forgive me.

MURPHY’S LAW STATES: everything that can go wrong, will go wrong. Now, you had no idea who Murphy was, but you used to always believe he was full of shit. There had been plenty of instances where things could have gone wrong, but they didn’t.

In fact, when it came to your case, it seemed like things usually went right. You got good grades, and got along well with all of your teachers. You were the captain of your school’s volleyball team, and had even been elected your school’s student body president your last year of high school. Things always went well for you, which is why you had never really been a believer in what that Murphy guy had to say.

At least, that’s what you thought before today. Because now, you were starting to think maybe you had taken your past ability to narrowly avoid disaster for granted. Because today, just like Murphy had once predicted, everything that could go wrong did just that: go wrong.

It started with your stupid charger. The night before, you must have apparently unplugged it, because when you plugged it into your phone before going to bed, it never charged. Which meant your phone died, and that meant your alarm never went off. And that meant you woke up ten minutes before school started, and your bus was going to be there any second.

So, in the quickest fashion you could muster, you brushed through your hair so you looked at least somewhat presentable then slipped into your uniform. You were incredibly impressed by how fast you’d managed to do that—just over 60 seconds! It must have been some kind of record. Less impressive, though, was the fact that even though you had been so speedy, you watched as the bus you were supposed to be on drove away in the direction of your school, leaving you behind.

Thank goodness for all those years playing volleyball, you had built up enough stamina to (barely) get you from your house all the way to the school. You were twenty minutes late, sure, but hey, at least you were there, right? Your first period teacher was not so understanding, almost immediately assigning you to detention after school.

Detention. You never got detention. In your four years at that school, working your ass off to be the best student you could be, a child your parents could be proud ofc, not once had you gotten assigned to detention. The realization that for the first time ever, you’d been punished by a teacher, was a foreign feeling as you sat at your desk and replayed everything that had happened. Detention, all because your stupid phone charger decided not to work the night before.

“Damn, I thought you were immune to detention.” A voice behind you whispered, and you glanced over to see Choi Beomgyu grinning at you. Of course Beomgyu had seen that all.

Choi Beomgyu was the exact opposite of you. He had fights with teachers basically on the daily, and you were pretty sure he was failing most of his classes. Not because he was stupid, by any means, he was actually really smart. He just didn’t try, he didn’t care about school the way you did. What he did care about, though, was teasing you as much as was humanly possible.

And of course, he had just seen you, the student body president, run into class twenty minutes late and get detention.

You had half a mind to bite back at him, because oh would that be satisfying, but you weren’t looking to talk in the middle of class and make your punishment worse than it already was. You instead gave him a side-eye glare, and he must have found it amusing since he started to giggle.

Once class got out, you really shouldn’t have been surprised to glance over your shoulder to see Choi Beomgyu following you, hot on your tail like he was some sort of lost puppy. You groaned quietly to yourself, hoping that if you ignored him long enough, he would get bored and walk away. Unfortunately, Beomgyu was a very patient man.

“I can’t believe you were late! What happened? Did your carriage lose a wheel on the way here, your highness?” He asked, using his long legs so he could get right up next to you.

You stayed silent.

“Come on, you can tell me! I’m like, the king of being late. I won’t judge.” He nudged your arm with his elbow, with just enough pressure for you to fall out of your rhythm. Now, he finally had your attention as you turned to look at him, eyes narrowed.

“Look, I’m not in the mood today, okay?” You told him flatly, and you were expecting him to find your irritable mood amusing, and find a way to push your buttons further than he already had, but he didn’t.

Instead, his face softened and he (surprisingly) went quiet. You didn’t bother sticking around to figure out what that was all about, not when you still needed to get to your class on the other end of the building, and you were not risking being late to a second class. So, you gave him a small nod, a thank you for leaving you alone, then walked away.

The rest of your day wasn’t any better.

In your history class, you got your grades for a test you’d recently taken, and nearly fell out of your seat when you saw a big fat C staring back at you. And your horror increased tenfold when you saw it wasn’t just a C, but a C minus. Never in your high school career had you gotten a C minus.

At that point of the day, you were starting to become convinced that someone had put some sort of curse on you. You didn’t really have any enemies who would have done that to you, though. Except maybe Choi Beomgyu, but you had a feeling putting a curse on someone was too much effort for him to be bothered with.

By the time the school day was over, you were completely exhausted. At lunch, your best friend, Sumin, accidentally spilled her drink on your uniform, and now you were wearing some extras from the lost and found that were much too big for you. You wanted nothing more than to go home, crawl into your bed and have a good cry, but you still had to do your detention.

You weren’t really sure what to expect from detention, considering you’d never had to do it before. You knew you weren’t looking forward to it, though, and just hoped it wouldn’t be anything horrible--especially since it was your first offense.

Your first period teacher was waiting for you in her classroom after classes got out, and she greeted you with a sympathetic smile. “Y/N. You know you’re one of my favorite students, so it really broke my heart when I saw you come in late this morning.”

The urge to roll your eyes arose, but you managed to fight it. Here she was, acting like you had betrayed her or something, when really, it was her decision to punish you for something so small.

“I understand.” You replied with a nod, avoiding her gaze.

“Good. So, I figured out the perfect thing for you.” She stood up and began to walk out of the classroom, with you following closely behind.

Apparently, the perfect thing for you was some storage room that clearly hadn’t been cleaned in a long time. There had been racks with boxes of textbooks that must have gotten knocked over, since the books were now all over the floor. And the room was covered in a thick layer of dust that made your nose itch the second you stepped inside. She left you with a singular rag, a bottle of cleaner, then left you alone.

You stood in the doorframe, assessing the room in front of you. Just from looking at it, you knew it was going to take you at least a few hours to clean the entire thing by yourself. Which meant it was going to be a few hours before you could go home, a few hours before you could go sleep this horrible, awful day away. Even worse, you were sure that something would go wrong during those next few hours that would prolong the time even longer.

Throughout the whole day, ever since you first realized you’d missed the bus, you had felt tears pricking your waterline, but you had managed to hold them in. You were going to wait until you were in your own bedroom, in private, before you even thought of letting them out. But now, as you stood there, staring at the mess in front of you, you could no longer hold them in.

It was like the floodgates had opened up, and all of the emotions you’d been restraining all day were released. A sob racked through your body, and you were no longer able to keep yourself steady, your knees unbuckling beneath you and causing you to collapse onto the floor. It was wildly embarrassing, the way you became a mess on the floor of the dirtiest room you’d ever seen, where anyone could walk in and see you.

And of course, because stupid Murphy just had to be right, that was exactly what happened.

There was a soft knock at the door, and you hurriedly looked over your shoulder to see the absolute last person you wanted to see poking his head in. You were overcome with horror as you snapped your head around to look away, praying as hard as you could to whatever deity would listen that he hadn’t seen your tears.

“Woah, are you crying?” He asked, and you shook your head.

“No. Why would I be crying?” You sniffled, picking up the rag and spray bottle you had dropped onto the floor and standing up. He caught a glimpse of your face again when you walked past, and he scoffed.

“You’re totally crying. Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” He asked again, stepping further into the storage closet and shutting the door behind him.

You shot him a glare as you attempted to stand one of the racks back up. “I’m not crying. Besides, even if I were, I’m not telling you. You’ll just make fun of me.” You mumbled the last part. Standing the rack up was proving to be futile.

“No I wouldn’t!” He defended himself, watching as you struggled to push the rack up. “Here, let me help you with that--”

“No!” You snapped at him, and he backed up with his hands held up defensively. You tried one more time to stand it up, and let out a frustrated groan when it once again wouldn’t budge. You had no choice but to surrender, and move to the side so Beomgyu could help you.

You were angry that you had to get his help to move the stupid thing. Now you were forced to be thankful he had showed up and barged in. “Thanks.” You muttered, brushing past him as you went to once again get your little rag and bottle.

“You’re welcome.” Beomgyu replied, and though you were facing away from him, you could hear his annoying, cocky smile in his voice. “So, are you going to tell me why you were crying?”

“No.”

“Oh, so you were crying!”

“I didn’t say that.” You looked up at him as you sprayed cleaner onto the dusty shelf. “I told you already, didn’t I? I don’t want to talk about it.”

Unfortunately, he didn’t seem as willing to drop the subject as he had earlier in the day. “Come on, Y/N. I saw you crying, you’re clearly upset, just tell me about it!”

“You’re going to laugh at me.”

“No I won’t!” He exclaimed, sounding exasperated. You raised an eye at his outburst, and he cleared his throat. “Seriously. I won’t.” He softened his tone, looking at you with pleading eyes.

You stared back at him, trying to figure out if you could trust him. This was Choi Beomgyu you were talking about, the boy who had tormented you for years on end with his constant teasing. But, he did look very sincere. And you were sort of itching to rant to someone.

“Fine. My phone didn’t charge last night, so my alarm never went off, so I woke up late, then I missed the bus and had to run to school, and then I got detention, and then I got a C on my stupid history test, and then Sumin spilled her stupid soda on me, so I had to wear this stupid uniform from the lost and found, and-and then I had to come here and clean this stupid closet, and I’m just so tired, and I-I--” The next thing you knew you were crying again, your breath hitching in the back of your throat as the tears spilled onto your cheeks once again.

The second the sobs slipped from your lips again, Beomgyu rushed around the shelf, slipping his arms around your trembling body and pulling you close to his chest. You were so desperate for any kind of comfort, you didn’t bother trying to push him away. Instead, you leaned into his touch, reaching up to grip onto the edge of his uniform jacket. He began to rub your back as you buried your face into his shirt, letting yourself cry--like, really cry. You thought you were going to pass out at any second from how difficult it was for you to catch your breath between sobs.

After enough of his fingers rubbing circles into your back and his soft shh’s whispered into your ear, you were slowly able to calm down to the point you could breathe again. It was truly unbelievable that you were here, in some dusty storage closet crying into Choi Beomgyu’s arms. It was not a position you had ever predicted yourself to be in. And yet…

You didn’t totally hate it.

“Can I tell you something?” Beomgyu asked softly, and with a small sniffle, you nodded against his shirt. “The reason I tease you so much… It’s so embarrassing…” He laughed softly, and you gently pulled your head away, looking up at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?” You asked, and as he gazed down at you, his cheeks reddened.

“Um… When we were in first grade, I tried to copy off of your test, once…”

“Yeah, I knew that.”

“What?! No you didn’t, I was so subtle, you didn’t even notice.” He shook his head, and you rolled your eyes. “But anyways, that’s not the point. I was trying to copy off your test, but I remember, I made the mistake of looking at your face--”

“What’s wrong with my face?” You asked defensively, a frown befalling your features.

“Let me finish!” He snapped at you, and out of curiosity to hear the rest of the story, you conceded. “So, I made the mistake of looking at your face, and you were all focused, and had your tongue sticking out of the side of your mouth,” he paused to allow a giggle to escape his lips.

“And I remember thinking you were so cute, and then I got so distracted watching you, by the time you got up to turn your test in, I had missed everything you had written down.”

You stared at him in confusion, trying to figure out what on Earth the point of this whole story was. “What…?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, Y/N. You’re the top of all our classes, and you can’t figure it out?”

You shook your head, and he let out a defeated sigh.

“I’m saying, Y/N, that I tease you because…” He paused, sucking in a shaky breath. “Because I like you, okay?”

“Oh.”

Oh.

Beomgyu liked you? Since first grade? You were unable to process his words, playing them in your head on repeat like some kind of broken record. He liked you. He annoyed the hell out of you, just because he liked you. What kind of middle school boy behavior was that?

“Oh? Is that all you have to say to my heartfelt confession?” He asked in fake offense, and you quickly shook your head.

“No! I’m just--it’s just--you like me? As in like-like me?” He nodded in confirmation, and you squinted your eyes at him. As he watched you, your gaze drifted down to his jacket, which you had been clinging onto just moments earlier, and the tear soaked fabric.

You felt like you should be absolutely appalled by his confession, and wracked with disgust, or something. You weren’t supposed to like Beomgyu! You weren’t supposed to be able to even stand him! But, his confession wasn’t the worst thing you had ever heard. In fact, as your fingers reached out to graze the edge of his jacket, you thought maybe you sort of liked hearing it.

“Y/N?” He asked you quietly, and you hummed in answer. “You don’t have to say anything, you know. In fact, if you really want me to, I can leave. Or you can leave, and I’ll finish cleaning for you--”

Maybe it was because you were in an emotionally crazed state, or you were desperate to prove Murphy wrong, hell, maybe it was just because you liked him back, but whatever it was, something overcame you, and the next thing you knew, you were tightening your fingers around his jacket to pull him close to you and press your lips against his.

The first thing you thought when you kissed Choi Beomgyu, was why hadn’t you done this sooner? You had been so consumed by your dislike towards him, and too focused on other things like your academics, you had never stopped to think of Beomgyu in this way. But now, as he immediately kissed you back, and wrapped his arms around your waist, you wished you had thought of him this way.

Because kissing Choi Beomgyu was absolutely not wrong. Rather, it was very, very right. It was like his lips were made to fit perfectly against your own, as they moved together in unison. You started to think all the bad things that had gone down that day weren’t so bad if it meant they would lead to this.

After what felt like an eternity of heavy breathing and hot kisses, the two of you finally pulled away, resting your foreheads against one another as you attempted to catch your breath. You glanced up at Beomgyu, a small grin spreading across your face to mirror his own.

“Hey, do you really want to clean all this shit?” He asked quietly, cocking an eyebrow at you. You shook your head. “Didn’t think so. Let’s get out of here, we’ll just tell them I kidnapped you, or something. You’re the Pres, they’ll believe us.”

Running away now was risking even further punishment, but Beomgyu was right. You were the president, you could basically do whatever you wanted. Besides, you’d spent all day trying to do the right thing, and still, everything had gone wrong. So, why not live a little, right? And why not do it with the cute boy who just confessed he’d liked you since the first grade?

You nodded. “Okay.”

permanent tag list: @jakeshands @therealhyunjingf @exohclipse @ttyunz @naveries @mazeinthemoon @luvsoobs @n0-thisispatrick @arizzu @dewyboi @yeonboy

#⊹ ˑ ִ ֗ ִ ۫ 1k celebration #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #beomgyu imagine #beomgyu drabble #beomgyu oneshot #choi beomgyu imagine #choi beomgyu oneshot #choi beomgyu drabble #txt beomgyu #txt x reader #txt imagine #txt oneshot #txt drabble

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takami-takami · 1 year

Note

hello!! im rly sorry to request smth yet again lmao but would you mind doing another comfort drabble? idk life has just been really kicking my ass :")

in any case i hope ur doing well!!

-☆

Sanctuary.

includes— hawks x reader. minors dni. comfort/fluff.

warnings— gn!reader. stressed reader. long days and loving arms. keigo is good at massages.

The warm expanse of Keigo's bed calls to you, a siren's song for the ache in your bones after another stressful day. With each step, you kick off a shoe and let it plop to the floor, before planting yourself face down and letting loose a groan.

Fucking life.

Exhausting.

You deserve a break. You deserve to finally be rid of the thrumming in your head, the demands other people insist on shoving onto you. The piles and piles of trials and tribulations only chip away at what remains of your wellbeing.

Crawling further into the bed, you curl in on yourself and grip the nearest pillow in your clutch. Perhaps if you placed it over your eyes, you could drown out the world from more than just your vision; if you placed it over your ears, you could muffle the piercing sounds that ring in your head even now.

At least you have here. Right now, in the apartment of the hero you tend to call petnames more than "Hawks", the only sound you can hear is the distant drumming of water droplets against the tile of Keigo's shower. The sound is soothing, and it is nice to have a bit of alone time, but part of you wishes he'd hurry and rescue you from the swirling clouds of stress that bog down your mind.

It's become an unspoken rule between the two of you that when the world gets to be too much, you worldlessly let yourself in to the other's home in a silent plea to be doted on. It goes both ways; with Keigo preferring to let himself in through your unlocked window, and you preferring to use your spare key to get in to the sanctity of his home.

Keigo's home was always a sanctuary of solitude for him, a roosting place from the battering weather of the outside world.

And now it's your sanctuary, too.

He doesn't know how his home lasted so many years without you in it. Now, your place here is cemented in stone, a foundational brick that would cause the place to collapse if you were to ever be taken from him.

The patter of the shower slows to a halt, the sound of drip, drops getting further and further between.

Thank God.

"Oh!" Keigo stops in the doorway, mussing his hair with a towel and looking down at you. You're still lying face down. "With the lights off, too, babe? One of these days I'm not gonna see you, and you're gonna get flattened."

You snort. "Feathers, Kei'. Can't they like, sense things? Or something?"

"Not if I pretend not to notice," he answers.

You hide your smile in the sheets below. The fabric of his clothes rustles as he puts each article on, stepping up to the bed and plopping down besides you. The dampness of his hair wets the sheets below, but you pretend not to notice.

"Actually, you know what," you say, muffled into the sheets below. "Crush me. I don't mind. Can't be any worse than the week I've had."

Keigo's tongue clicks in sympathy, studying you out the corner of his eye, before he sits up and begins to massage the aches from your tense shoulders.

His hands feel like heaven, kneading each knot with practiced ease and delicate precision, wrists and fingers working their magic. He somehow knows the tensest spots and exactly how much pressure it takes to soothe them. Distantly, you wonder how much of his knowledge is firsthand.

You can't stop yourself from melting under his touch, practically purring as his hands make their way from your now-loose shoulder muscles up the expanse of your neck, then down the delicate tendons of your lower back. He's diligent, intent on not missing a single spot.

Once he's satisfied with his work, he begins to plant soothing kisses over the remains of where each knot once was.

You sit up and pop your joints with your stretch, entirely boneless and unable to hold back a relieved groan.

"You know," he starts, his tone as warm and delicate as the kisses he continues to plant on your shoulder. "Believe me, I know how much life can get you, out there. But... You don't have to do anything when you're with me. You got it? You don't have to prove anything to me."

You know trust is a precious commodity, one Keigo has by all accounts earned. He has done nothing but show you the truth lacing each word; but the message still meets a wall when it tries to make its way past your barriers.

He can hear your doubts, can see the "but" resting on the tip of your tongue and threatening to spill. So instead, he silences it with a kiss before you even have the chance to start.

"I can hear you thinking. No buts."

"Kei', I... I don't know if I–"

"Baby, please," he whispers. His hands run up your arms, squeezing gently before finding their resting place on your shoulders. "Gotta believe me, okay? Promise?"

How can you say no? How can you deny those pretty, lovesick eyes?

"Promise," you answer, planting your thanks in the form of a kiss on his lips.

Before he can lean in to greedily seek another, you place a single finger between you. He blinks.

"On one condition," you offer, resolute. "You gotta promise you'll believe me when I tell you the same."

He can't hide the smile crawling up his lips, nor the way his eyes go soft at the sight of you. "I promise, right back."

Home isn't a building you can enter through a window or with a key.

You decide this is more than enough.

#hi ☆ sorry i resent your anon bc i answered before #hawks x reader #keigo takami x reader #🖋 writing #🍧 sugar #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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vinziel · 3 months

Text

Just One More Time....Please? Male reader x Branch (One-Sided)

A/N: Angst with no comfort....yay.

You and Branch were best friends. Ever since his Brozone days to now, you've always supported him, and overtime you've grown a bit of a crush on him, you kept it hidden to not break your friendship in the case that he didn't like you back, after his brothers left him, you've visited him everyday to hang out with him and to try and cheer him up, after his grandma's death your parents took him in with you, when he formed a new band, you were there to be their manager, you loved this troll so much it hurt you to not be able to have the courage to tell him how you feel.

Sadly during the great troll escape, your parents got caught and eaten, you were depressed and Branch helped you recover, as you did with bim when his brothers left him and his grandma got eaten, you both built the bunker together, and lived inside it together, all and all you can say your friendship was one to be cherished, but still no matter how much you try to ignore it, there's still that love you feel for him, and you thought maybe it was time, after 10 years of living together you told Branch you wanted to tell him something, you both sat on the couch and with a heavy breath, you told Branch how you felt, with shocked loo Branch... didn't love you back. Your heart broke and you couldn't take it, you tried to move on but the feeling lingered around you, the despair haunted you but of course you hid it from Branch and said you were fine.

Over time you and Branch had grown apart, you both still live together in the bunker but every time you both walk past each other it's like walking past a stranger, you tried to make conversations but Branch looked uncomfortable or made them short, this broke your heart since you still wanted to be friends with him. Once he and the queen of pop, Poppy got together you congratulated them, you cried that day, alone. You were looking at all of the photos you had with him and just reminisced, you wished you could take back your words, you wished you could turn back time. After Branch reunited with his Brothers, you knew it was your time, Branch wanted his brothers to live with him and there would be less space with you. You wanted Branch to be happy. No matter what, so you packed and left when no one was around, you wanted to live with the Rock trolls, since you found their stuff cool anyways.

Before you could leave with your stuff someone stopped you, it was Branch "Where are you going?" You responded "Oh I'm moving to Volcano Rock City" "Why?" Branch asked, you sighed, answering "I... honestly Branch, I've noticed how we've grown apart ever since I confessed, I wish I could turn back time to stop that from happening, after reuniting with your brothers, I realize some of them are gonna live with you, the bunker isn't gonna fit all of us, so I'm moving away, it's for the best" You were holding back tears, your voiced broke "Can I get a hug? Before you go? Just one more time....please?" Branch said, you noticed he was also tearing up, his voice breaking, you hugged him tight and he hugged you back tightly, you started to cry "I'm gonna miss you" You said, Branch responded with "Me too, travel safe..ok? And have a great life ahead" You both pull away from the hug, you wipe your tears, smiling, before walking away with your stuff. This was the start of a new chapter in your life, one without Branch in it.

A/N:Woo this was a ride. Tell me if y'all want a part two or smth.

#trolls 3 #trolls #trolls branch #brozone x male reader #branch x reader #branch x male reader #x male reader #male reader #angst #gay trolls #gay #unreciprocated love #unreciprocated feelings #angst with no happy ending #angst with no comfort #no comfort #trolls band together #i'm crying #bittersweet

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catiuskaa · 1 year

Note

Bestie, am taking revenge :D (not really)

Dropping here to make your fist request too! Let's do the same idea and see what happens :3

Bang Chan flirty rivals/crushes to lovers + dancing

Let's see how it works :]

Bring it on babes >:]

Level up: fencing for dummies. [Someone’s icy heart melted!]

CW: soulmate AU (past life kinda deal but it's a mess) mentions of anxiety (take care besties), swords (better wATCH OUT), swearing, there’s this dude who’s just a prick (so kinda annoying), angst if you blink too fast, I’d say its all but if y’all see smth I missed PLEASE MENTION IT<3

WC: 3.7K

side-note: so I came up with this ‘Lee Soomun’ guy and just in case, if he turns out to be someone who’s real, he’s totally unrelated to this content of fiction, as well as our dearest Channie and the fellow teletubbies StrayKids as a whole.

side note 2: flashback + dialogs included will be written like so :)

[☆☆⚔️☆☆]

Shit. That didn't feel good. What did this even mean?

You sighed, getting angry at yourself. Was it already? Would this be the time that, like your pent-up anxiety sometimes whispered, the day you would finally go down in history as the world’s biggest idiot?

Close, but not just yet. Let’s get back to when the disaster initiated.

You shook your head sideways, shoving unwanted thoughts about the person in front of you to someplace far away in your mind, wanting to fight without emotions taking the best of you. You put back on your fencing helmet.

Striking the straightest pose your back could handle, you faced your rival.

Christopher Bang. ‘Chan’ for his mates.

Fencing, top class. Majored in music, again, top class in most of the career’s subjects. At 23, he played more instruments than you could remember, and between his job (one that you hadn’t found out) and fencing, you’ve heard he still produces music on the side with some people.

Yeah. But you didn’t care much. Nope.

You disliked the man. Why? He was rich. Stick-stuck-up-in-his-ass level of rich. And he used it. Not like you could prove it, but you still believed that he, along with the other wealthy members of the old fencing club, were paying for victories to the referees in competitions.

No wonder they were all so nice to him.

You couldn’t complain about it, though. These people had basically sustained the entire club for years, and, surprise surprise, there was no way you could pay for the expenses the club required. The coach could think likewise, but when Chan was named, he would always pick his side and run away before you could even react.

To be honest, Chan wasn’t your favourite person.

You hated his cockiness, how he teased and invaded your personal space, wandering about and spitting whatever thought he could come up with. It was much easier to not pry on why he annoyed you, not wanting to know if he just bothered you because he could, meaning that making him stop would be thrice as tough.

Or worse, that he hated your guts. Unfair from your side, ok, but when you first met, you were stupidly hoping to acquire a solid friendship, someone you could count on to have your back, someone whose skills you admired. It felt like a scene straight out of a Hallmark movie. Banter and teasing lines were thrown, and you could’ve sworn he was flirting with you, but when you saw a pretty girl entering the locker rooms with him that day, your heart cracked a bit.

He made you remember that whatever could happen between you two, he could make it happen in a flash with anybody, anytime. He had all the money and skills anyone could wish for.

And he knew it.

“Scared I might pinch you, buttercup?” He said, his helmet resting on his head and striking more of a suggestive pose than a defensive stance.

“I’d suggest you watch out. I might just stick this sword up your refined ass, Mr Bang,” you snickered, not sounding as playful as he had, the nickname rolling off your tongue before you could rethink it.

Chuckling, he prepared his pose, sword ready for any attack or defence when he nodded to the referee, ready to start.

Seungmin signalled, and the combat started. Sounds of the material of the swords clicking reverberated in the old building, along with the others from the remaining fights other students were having.

You tried looking for weak spots, aiming here and there in hopes of finding something, when instead, he grinned, a Chesire-like smile on his features as the tip of his épée touched your ribs.

Fuck.

Before you could notice, you were already falling behind.

“13-12. Next round,” Seungmin stated, waiting for both of you to return to your positions.

You stood as calmly as you could in fourth position as he came to attack right after signalled, surprising enough for you to be too late.

Or so he thought, because for some reason, through the masks that protected your faces, he felt your stare burn right into him.

Moving turned to a less crucial problem because the criminal violence that was suddenly happening in his body made Chris extremely confused and awkwardly flustered. He could picture those so-called ‘butterflies’ people often talked about being destroyed by some flamethrowers.

That’s the intensity I’m talking about.

With him frozen, you stopped for a second, wondering if he could’ve stepped wrong or if something had happened. You wouldn’t play an unfair fight just for the sake of mere decency. You felt a deep sensation trailing up and down your body, which awakened you enough to counterattack.

“Match point,” the referee managed to add.

Seungmin was perplexed, to say less. He had been a referee on several duels between you two and separately and never had seen such a quick build-up of a mysterious tension that magically appeared out of the blue. It was no secret to you, one of his closest friends in the club, that he was 100% sure you’d end up befriending Chris, but this?

Damn, he was proud of his intuition. Something was happening, and he had first-row seats!

“Hey, you ok?” You murmured low enough for Seungmin to not notice, approaching Chan just for him to realize how close you were and blush right away.

“D-duh.” He mumbled. You frowned.

Seungmin gave Chan a look before starting the following round. You couldn’t miss how his attacks looked weaker, his defence opening in front of you like a walk-in closet, his overall control getting smaller and smaller.

“13-14.”

You were… actually? Scratch that. You couldn’t really word it, but an anxious feeling crept inside you.

You were winning. Against Mr Bang Chan.

Why wasn’t he saying anything? No teasing, no flirty comments? He couldn’t… no, he wouldn’t just let you win, right?

That would be an ugly ass move from his side.

But unbeknownst to you, his side dealt with plenty of other issues.

Sudden flashes of unlived memories with a certain someone popped into his head.

“Your hair is so soft…”

“Can I sit on your lap till you’re done…?”

“You’re so beautiful it's breathtaking.”

“What’s a place like this doing around a pretty boy like you?”

“Shh, you’re safe, my love. You’re strong, plus I’m with you, and I’ll never let anything happen to you.”

“I’m not a delicate flower, c’monnn…! Kiss me like you mean it.”

“Uh?” His eyes almost watered, equally astonished as scared, because what were those memories? How could they be there?

“Did something happen?” You whispered, baffled as to why he had lost all the cockiness in his manner and tone, sounding defenceless, like a small child.

“N-no? I think I just…”

Chris froze. What was he going to say? ‘Hey, I know you sorta hate my guts, but I suddenly feel like you’re the love of my life…?”

Because that sounded perfect. He almost snickered. What the fuck was going on?

“Guys,” Seungmin interrupted with a warning tone.

He hated to be that guy, but flirting in front of the building owner and the coach wouldn’t look too great on the club’s side.

You and Chan stepped out of the tense bubble that formed around you. Quickly, you took off your protective gear and smiled warmly at the two persons.

Chris’ chest tightened, his heart skipped a beat.

Since when did he find you… so…?

“Cute.” He whispered, before realizing his surroundings and quickly taking off his helmet too.

“Good morning,” Coach greeted kindly, to which you both smiled. “I’m guessing both of you have already met Mrs Delaney.”

“Of course, Mike.” She smiled, small wrinkles appearing in her eyes. “Glad to see you fencing.”

You felt a stone on your stomach when you quickly noticed how she stared at Chris, much different to when she looked at you. You hated that.

Chan smiled awkwardly. The last thing he needed right now was someone who looked at him like a sexy, filled-to-the-brim bank account. Fuck that.

“Is there any reason as to why you’re here?” Seungmin questioned, curious.

Mrs Delaney smiled. “ I was speaking to Mike about organizing a fencing competition as fundraising. It’s getting trickier to maintain this building, plus it could attract more members to the club. And you two are the star athletes, so what do you think?”

You blinked, surprised that she had acknowledged your presence and valued it as much as your opinion. It was evident she was there for the money, but let’s be realistic. You would do something similar in her situation.

“I’m up for it. That sounds fun.” You simply stated, not wanting to annoy the woman with anything else so she wouldn’t stare at your soul meanly again.

Chan gave you a look, then shrugged. “Why not. But I think that the more the merrier, so why not put up an add?”

Mrs Delaney’s eyes sparkled. “Such an inteligent young man. I’ll make one right away.”

Coach and her eventually left, but you felt a shiver run up and down you back when her last words before exiting were “See you next week, good luck!”

“Not to throw anyone under the bus, but I’m not the one explaining that to the rest of the club,” Seungmin flew away.

“Good luck then, Mr Bang!” You laughed teasingly as you left with your friend.

[☆ ☆⚔️☆☆]

“You’re bluffing.”

“I’m telling you, either he stubbed his toe with thin air or his muscles were cut with an invisible thread,” he slurped his noodles, concentrating on his explanation.

Kim Seungmin wouldn’t need to go to military service because he sure served in every scenario in his life.

“Guys like Chan don’t just freeze during a fight, girl. I’m surprised you’re not all ‘panties in a bunch’ about it.”

You deadpanned. “Ok, gross. One more of those, and I’ll puke my fried chicken.”

“But actually, why, though? Do you owe me money?” He grinned.

“You owe me. I’m winning that bet cause there’s no way in hell that Chan and I can get along. But, just look at him.”

Seungmin turned around shamelessly, staring at the dining table Chan’s friend group had picked. He was laughing at some joke you hadn’t caught, allowing you to notice his dimples. Cute.

Another intense shiver gave you chills.

"If that's supposed to be a hate stare, I'm going to start thinking my landlord is in love with me," Kim laughed cruelly.

"What? Shut up! Your landlord is such a bitch, don't even try." You threw bread crumbs at him, giggling. "Besides, me, in love with him?" You couldn't hold back looking at him again, in some way that felt different than before, and perhaps it would be the first time of many because you liked what you saw. The man's beautiful brown eyes focused on you, his brown hair naturally curly for a change, a bit shorter, enough so that exposed the white and sensitive skin of his neck, and although from the angle where you were standing, you couldn't see him fully, you felt amazed.

Shutting down. Rebooting.

"I mean, look at the way he slurps up his soup. What an asshole."

[☆ ☆⚔️☆☆]

The competition had arrived before you could notice. Several members had signed in, and the crowd felt bigger than on its opening day. You sighed, nervous. The semi-finals were today, so of course, several curious people would pop their heads to see what all the noise was for. For even more spice to your mood, your opponent wasn't 'Mr Bang' yet, but someone who was even more unbearable than him.

Lee Soomun.

He had no discernible personality, but if you had to say anything about him, the only thing that made him stand out from the rest of the rich gang is that the stick up his ass would probably be the thickest.

You tightened your fist around your épée, the fencing sword, and stared at it blankly.

"Hey, you are up next," A guy named Felix mentioned, his voice as deep as anyone could imagine. "Go there and make him shut his stupid ass mouth for once."

You high-fived him. "You bet."

Getting out of the locker room, a silhouette suddenly appeared in your way.

You sighed. "Do you mind?"

He smiled sheepishly, showing his stupidly cute dimples. "Mind? In my mind? You, all day, all night."

You weren't sure if that made sense or not. You frowned. "Well, I fucking mind." You almost walked past him when he grabbed your arm in a gentle yet decisive move.

"Don't get your eyes off his grip, Yun."

You were frozen. The fact that your surname had been mentioned by him, who you doubted even cared enough to remember... only his cold tone made you wake up again. You scoffed, shrugging him off in hopes to regain your lost focus.

"I know how to fence, dummy, but thanks for the pro tip."

He stared at your back as you walked away.

"Oh, fresh meat,” your opponent greeted.

Lee Soomun.

You may dislike Chan, but this guy was even worse.

"How many points should I let you have so you get your hopes up?" His snicker could've made you sick. "Seven? Nine? Oh, maybe you've never reached so many points in one fight..." He gave you a condescending look that was so infuriating. "Let's agree on six, then."

Fuck. Breathe in, breathe out.

The referee settled on his place, and you both stood en guarde.

The fight started. You weren’t holding back, you were trying your best right from the start.

But it just wasn’t working.

You were on your second minute-long break, and if the score didn’t change in three minutes…

“10-6”

Then you were going to lose. Game over.

The referee called you back to your spots. You felt pressure on your shoulders, the grip in your épée felt weak, and the mask felt heavy.

“Yun!”

Your body stiffened. You looked towards the source of the sound, confused to see Chris, who was entering his last round for the day.

What? Chan couldn’t just forget that screaming in a fencing fight was considered really rude.

But his raspy voice that said your surname so differently from others had made you aware and catious of your surroundings, his words repeating in your head.

What could he have noticed that was important enough for him to say it?

You shook your head sideways, in hopes of getting out of your anxious state and slowing down your heart rate. The referee called you up again, and you faced your opponent again.

“I told you. No more than six. So be good, yeah?” His tone made you feel repulsively small. You hated it.

You stood en guarde when suddenly you felt a stare piercing into you. It made your entire body shiver, and the rush was so intense you couldn’t even think about the fight anymore.

You felt heat hit you in your face, and the sudden intense emotions made you too dizzy to react before Soomun’s sword was right in front of you.

And just when you thought you had almost seen it touch your chest-

Wait, what?

It… didn’t.

You moved suddenly, facing the scoreboard.

Why did it score?

“But I wasn’t touched,” you whispered.

He laughed, a rather menacing sound coming from him.

And in that moment, something clicked. That’s what Chris was trying to tell you before.

He had a rigged épée.

You see, with electric épée fencing, which was the chosen one for the competition, scoring is done in the following manner: the tip of the épée has a push button on it with wiring that, when combined with the wiring on the body cord and box of the opponent, would form a circuit, which would then signal that a hit has occurred. But what Soomun had probably done was to rig his épée so that he could close the circuit himself. But how…?

"Don't get your eyes off his grip, Yun."

Of course.

He probably had some pressure-related device hidden in the grip of his épée whenever he would appear as though he got close enough to an opponent to register a hit then it would count as a hit.

He was cheating.

“12-6.”

And he was fucking winning.

Anger stroke you through your veins. You couldn’t deal with is. You weren’t going to lose against some cheater, you didn’t care who was going under the bus because of him because it wouldn’t be you.

That was your motto during the fight, but then, weird memories started appearing in your head.

“Mmm... your hands are warm."

"You're such a tease..."

"I'm not flirting... or am I?"

"I really can't get you out of my head."

"Kiss me."

"If you stick your tongue at me again, you might as well be prepared to use it."

"Who did this to you?"

The confusion hit you hard, an impulse making you shiver in a sudden motion.

"12-7."

You had scrunched your eyes in hopes of understanding what was going on in your head. You opened them in a sudden motion.

You had fucking scored? Holy shit. Holy shit!

You smiled, feeling the anxiety's pressure lighten on your shoulders, a piercing stare that could have burned holes in your mask, not even having any sort of effect over it.

"You had one instruction."

You couldn't see his expression because of the mask on his face, but solely his voice made you tremble.

No. It wasn't anxiety now.

That thing you were feeling as soon as the next round started was pure fear.

And it was seconded when not only was he one point away from winning but, when in a dirty move, he made you stumble in your stance, faking another touch.

"15-7."

You felt a sharp pain in your chest, the bitter taste of knowing you had lost because the contrary cheated felt worse than ever. The match had ended.

Game over.

You both had to step out of the competition place together. He took his mask off and smiled gently.

"Does it hurt?" He asked in a mocking tone.

Asshole. He had gotten closer on purpose, which made you stumble in the first place.

"Not as much as how it must hurt your mother to feel your disgusting presence." You murmured, a sentence filled with poison.

He frowned, angry again. "I'll fucking kill you. I'll fucking kill you. I'll fucking murder your face, fuck you."

But suddenly, he took a quick glance behind you to just tsk and smile a cruel, dirty-rotten smile. "Have fun!"

Fuck him. Fuck him.

You walked back to the most hidden corner of the locker room. Everyone was outside, probably celebrating with whoever they believed would be the champion of tomorrow's finals.

Then, the door opened quietly. A silhouette with broad shoulders approached your sulky corner in small steps and silently sat close to you. You hugged your knees close to your chest, tearing up silently, feeling somewhat mocked.

"Do you want me to leave?" He asked in the softest, most soothing tone you've heard in a while.

You turned to face him with red, watery eyes that made Chris' heart tighten in his chest.

Instead of doing what his heart was screaming, he had to ask again.

"Do you want me out?"

When there was no response, he sighed and stood, ready to let you cope however you wanted, respecting your decision.

But he hadn't walked even two steps to the door when he felt a hand on his forearm, your sobbing not silent anymore.

"You won't laugh, right?" You whispered in between your cries.

His presence had felt like a sun ray shining through a snowstorm. Just by standing close to you, his sweet tone of voice almost lulling you to sleep, he made everything suck less.

Fuck, since when were you both so screwed?

He held you close, in the warmest embrace you had felt in a long time, so much that it allowed you to break into pieces in his arms, knowing that just by his side, you would be able to reassemble.

"It's ok, you're safe now. I'm so proud of you." Chris didn't know what to say, his hand mechanically running calming strokes through your hair.

After you had calmed down, still in the same position, you mustered your courage to ask what had been on your mind for a while.

"Why did you tell me about his rigged sword? And why be here, with me crying in some old locker room?"

Chan sighed. "I know... we have never been close, but I still worry about you. Maybe I have that because I always have taken care of my sister, but I care about everyone that I love." He shrugged, and you blinked.

God, a fucking sister. Of course. You felt so stupid.

He continued. " I thought you would've done the same if it was me, and I would have wanted to know. No one deserves to be left alone, princess." He explained, the nickname rolling off his tongue before he could rethink it.

You snuggled closer to him in a silent motion. He smiled sheepishly as he kissed the top of your forehead.

He gently swiped away your tears.

"I suck."

"You certainly do not, princess. It's not bad to cry. It proves how strong you have been." He said, tracing soft shapes on the back of your hand until he raised it and kissed your palm. You left it there, cupping his cheek, poking his dimple when he smiled. You smiled too.

"Princess, I think...?"

You interrupted him and gave him a small peck on his lips. You laughed as he stared at you wide-eyed. You grabbed his hand and stood, but he just kept looking at you from below.

"Get up, silly."

He smiled, grateful that you had cheered up.

"Is this kidnapping?" He joked.

"No. Let me grab my stuff and get changed."

"I'm scared."

You giggled. "You should be. I'm taking us both on a date."

"Where?"

"At this time, I would just go to my roommate's dance studio... care to join?"

He smiled, kinda excited. "If you insist..."

~Kats, who is currently procrastinating five different projects, all due this week.

@iszaranothere because your absolute genius prompt list came right through a block like idek but tysm it made me laugh a lot T-T<3

P.D I KNOW THERE IS NO DANCING BUT YK LETS COUNT THE SWORD FIGHT AS A CHOREO + HC THAT THEY DANCED IN THE DATE LIKE IK IK BUT IT WAS TOO LONG ALREADY I STILL HOPE YOU LIKE IT THO

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #soft hours #bang chan #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #skz soft thoughts #answered #first ask #chris bang #skz bang chan

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youuuimeanmee · 7 months

Text

RWTGI 35.1 - 35.2 Thoughts

I forgot chapter 35.2 is already out WAAAHH

I say Kirishima's name a lot this time, maybe I should call him Kiri.

Okay, this chapter confirms my suspicion. So his family really did neglect him.

Uhh I don't think the diary is meant to prove himself as a victim. I bet it's to keep record of what makes him happy 😅

BAHHAHAH Gaddamit.

I thought he was mourning, or at least self-reflecting. Who knew he was playing soccer 🤣 (where is your sympathy kid, tf) At least he knew not to play in the middle of people mourning, lol

Oh yeah, I just remember, Sumire (Kiri's great-aunt) did say his parents tried to get him to talk after that incident, but no matter how much they tried, he never answered them. Maybe it's because he's aware he's too different from them, they wouldn't understand him anyway? If that's the case, that's kinda amazing of Kiri for being able to (kinda) open up to Gaku even though he never met him, because just from a short meeting he knows his great-uncle is not normal like himself.

(If Kiri is your average kid, even if Sumire dropped some hints that Gaku is similar to him, he wouldn't be able to take the hint because he's too clouded with "no one understands me" prejudice. But no. Our Kiri here uses his brainn, bro)

Aww baby 🥺

Turns out his "friend" is more normal than he thought, his plan failed, he got into trouble. He did so much, yet, didn't get anything in the end lolol

I'm surprised Kiri is the first one who asked to be adopted. I don't think Sumire or his parents ever told him that the man in front of him is a yakuza. He must've put two & two together and concluded it himself.

If I could guess why Gaku accepted a brat like Kiri, it's may be because he saw his potential. I'm sure he never heard about Kiri until his sister introduced him, but the fact that she asked for his help is enough prove that his family couldn't handle him anymore. He never introduced himself as a yakuza but Kiri, with limited informations and short time, knew right away. He's not scared or nervous like normal people. In fact, he just focus on getting what he wants, and willing to do anything to get what he wants. Talented. Abnormal. Obsessed. Unhinged. Gaku could really use those traits. Even if he couldn't become his grandchild, at least he could become a reliable subordinate. Maybe that's why he accepted him so quick 😂

(Turns out there's another reason in the next chapter tho, so I'll save my thoughts for later.)

This is just a reminder to myself: Gaku barely provided Kiri with the neccessity needed, probably because he needs to test his worth if he wants to earn that "yakuza's grandchild" title. Or at least that's my theory. Maybe Gaku is just naturally apathetic. Maybe both.

Kiri might've liked Gaku to a certain degree because he's one of his few family who accepts him as who he is, but I'm pretty sure growing up with a man like him in a yakuza household has worsen his mental condition, until he meet Yoshino.

Wow. Turns out it's not the first time he waits for hours in the rain 🤣

AUGH. beautiful. Beautiful. I'm crying 😭😭😭

That's smart of the author. We wouldn't know if he really blushed because of her or if it's just the rain, lol

Yoshino saw a wolf. Renji saw a a guard dog 🤣

I don't like how Aoi kicked my son, but I have to agree with him here. Don't lick your blood on the floor, yuck.

Daww look at his happy lil feet seeing his obsession crush 🥺🤭

We know that Kiri used to date older women to leech, but seeing it with my own eyes disgust me. Not just Kirishima, but that grown-ass woman too; having sex with a minor, what the fuck. That's what I like from the author tho, just bc the ML did it, it doesn't mean it's romanticized.

OOHHH the day when Kirishima is appointed to be Yoshino's guard dog. Never thought I'd see this day come so fast, I thought we gonna have to wait for ch 80 or smth.

Hmm? The guy who killed Kyousuke? Do we know him? Is it Suo Azami? Nah, if he's around the same age as Kiri, he's practically a baby at that time. Wait, didn't he change his face tho? How old is he again? Or myb it's not Azami at all, myb it's his boss, Akime Hishibe? Oh I forgot Shouma said he's already dead, but I highly doubt it. Maybe the mastermind is still alive.

Um, if Kirishima is owned by Gaku, and Gaku leaves him under Renji's care, does it mean he's now owned by Renji? He doesn't have to obey Gaku anymore?

I'm confused with this whole ownership thing now.

Wait. A month? You gotta go big??

Wait wait wait.

Wow, oh wow. I need to recalibrate everything.

This panel gives chapter 2 a whole new layer. Wow.

So like. He told her to sell her body not only because he was tired of her, but also because Renji told him he could make Yoshino go back to Osaka if he didn't feel like up to the task?

Though I don't think Kiri did that because he values his life; he did that merely because he thought she's boring and not worth his time. But then everything change 😂

Yo Renji. You're the one who said it's okay for Kiri to make Yoshino go back to Osaka. You said you'd take care of the rest, you even said he can be creative. He was doing such a great job at making her feel like she wanna leave, yet, you won't let him have his way?

Was Renji intentionlly flaming them both? Is this his plan all along; to have both children go screw each other in Tokyo and forget about Osaka for a year?

(Istg Renji's death flag has been up for a while now, I'm scared for Yoshino)

Oh wow, Kiri really did not lie. Their interest really do align perfectly.

To continue my point above about why would Gaku accept Kiri into his house, it seems like he wanted to use Kiri's talent and obsessiveness towards Yoshino to make him protect her, because he feel indebted/guilty towards Renji? Was he feeling responsible for what happen to Kyousuke? If that's the case, this makes Akime seem even more sus bc he used to be Gaku and Renji's close friend.

Seeing Kirishima's reminiscence sure brings tears to my eyes. From obsession to genuine love and affection. He really does come a loong, long way, huh. Maybe I should make a meta about this particular scene but idk, let's see if I feel like it.

But I don't think he would've feel this way if Yoshino didn't acknowledge his quirks and treat him "normally." She really is amazing.

The way he's so scared when Yoshino didn't move for literally 1 second he decided to check her pulse, like she could just drop dead in a blink. Even though he has seen how strong she is up until now. That irrational fear of losing someone, he finally understand 🥺🥺

I'm really REALLY surprised Yoshino relented and agreed to eat parfait 🤣 Kirishima you always win huh 🤣

Aww, he returned to the same place when he first entered the yakuza household, eat the same parfait he used to eat, but now he's together with a friend/lover he treasures for life, enjoying the life he found boring at the beginning 🥺😭💞

These past chapters have been a treat. Even after he declares he loves Yoshino multiple times, we never stop doubting him because the fear he instilled at the beginning is too strong to dismiss. Just like Yoshino, we have this lingering doubt that he doesn't really love her, he's just obsessed. These flashbacks managed to shed some lights into his character, making him seem even more human. Kiri really HAS been trying to show how genuine he is -- in his own awkward way -- and it shows 🥹

Just 2 more chapters until we catch up to the raws, I can't wait. I've seen it, and all I can say is, it's beautiful. And Kirishima says some crazy stuff while sober. I just can't with him. I love him, I hate it.

See you next time 👋

#raise wa tanin ga ii #rwtgi #rwtgi ch 35.1 #rwtgi ch 35.2 #rwtgi analysis #miyama kirishima #yoshino somei

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