#I know that man thinks he's going to hell for it too

[lomlsatoru]

BACK TO YOU — JINU ࣪ 𖤐.ᐟ

summary: he comes back home. to you.

content: fem!reader, angst, happy ending, a kiss, ~800 words, i dont really know what to feel abt this but lmk what you think!

a/n: he lives!!!!! (i yelled as they dragged me inside the asylum)

★☆ ★

Heart heavy. Eyes puffy. Mind foggy.

Why did you decide to get attached to a demon in the first place?

Sucks on you.

The air in your apartment was chilling, making you fall farther back into your mattress. Blanket covering your body as you stare at your ceiling.

The girls have come knocking, wanting to make sure you’re still alive because of how long you were cooped up.

You couldn’t bring yourself to do anything after the incident.

Part of you almost feels stupid, how are you letting his death affect you so much? You haven’t even known him for that long.

“Then, why does it hurt so bad?” you whispered to yourself, tears streaming down your puffy cheeks.

Suddenly, the sliding door to your balcony opened, adding the cold wind sweep across your room. You startled awake, rubbing your eyes to get your vision in focus as you walked to the balcony. The city looks almost ethereal with the golden honmoon.

Your body jumps in shock when you notice the huge pair of bright eyes staring at you. “Tiggy?” crouching down, the tiger slowly moved closer, snuggling closer to your hand and chest, “What are you doing here baby?” 

“Why? A guy can’t see a pretty girl anymore?” 

Your heart drops. Fingers stopping scratches on the tiger’s head, not brave enough to look up. 

His voice. No. No way. Your head is playing tricks. 

Shaking your head, you muttered to yourself, “Nope. No. I’m just dreaming.” hiding your face in the tiger’s fluffy fur, “This is so not funny.” 

Jinu’s chest clenched at your voice, taking slow steps until he is crouched in front of you, “Hi, sweetheart.” 

You blinked your tears away, hugging the tiger tighter, “Go away.” voice so fragile, so tired. 

The man leaned forward, his hesitating hand hovering above your head. “Hey, look at me.” slowly dropping his hand to the back of your neck as his thumb grazed your skin comfortingly. 

You shook your head, “You’re not real.”

His eyes softens, realising how much pain you are in, “Yes I am. I’m right here.”

With all the courage that you possess, you brought your head up. He’s right. 

He is right here. 

Right in front of you. 

He smiles warmly, gazing at your face, “Oh, princess.” he brings his palm to the side of your face, heart clenching when he notices your tear streaks, puffy eyes and runny nose. 

You sniffle, leaning into his warm palm, “I miss you so much.” a pout forming on your lips.

Jinu has to stop himself from grinning at how cute you looked, choosing to peck your cheeks instead, “Missed you too.”

A moment passed by as you stared at each other. Before the whole situation crashes on you fully, anger and grief overcome your system. 

Everything was so overwhelming. 

Shoving his shoulders back, “Where the hell did you go?” you yelled, standing up and stomping inside your bedroom. Picking up the pile of clothes on the floor and putting them inside of your wardrobe. 

He didn’t even move when you pushed him. He understood. He would be in pain too. 

He sighed. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. 

“I had to take care of some stuff before I can see you.” carefully moving into your room, he surveyed the mountain tissues on the side of your bed, “You really missed me, huh?”

You scoff, “Shut up.” stumbling when the tiger tried to cuddle to your leg, making you smile. 

Jinu softly grins at the sight of you, nose still red and sniffling, hoodie engulfing your figure. You look soft, sweet, vulnerable. 

He stops right behind you, body so close you can feel how warm he is, “I miss you too.” he whispers. 

Letting out a shaky breath and biting your lip in nervousness, you slowly turned around and looked up to meet his eyes, 

“There’s my girl.” he smiles, rough fingers caressing your cheek. 

“I never want to feel like that ever again.” you lean into his warm palm, holding his wrist. 

He leans in, your breaths mingling with each other, “May I?” his thumb not stopping grazing your cheek.

You nod, letting him lean down to slot your lips together. The kiss was slow, calming your screaming thoughts, as you scrunch his jacket in your hands.

“Fuck.” he whispers against your mouth, moving more desperate, his hands moving to grip your waist to bring you closer. “Missed you so much, sweetheart.”

Giggling, you break apart to take in more breaths, hands now on the back of his neck, fingers grazing his skin making him shudder. “I might go on a wim and say that you missed me.”

He laughs and kisses your forehead, pulling your head to rest against his chest and hugging you as he lays his head on top of your head. 

For a demon he has a really loud heartbeat.

“Your heart is beating so fast.” you chuckled, wrapping your arms around him, fully melting into his embrace. 

Jinu’s cheeks went warm, he coughs, “Shut up.” backing away and meeting your eyes again, “I’m not going anywhere.” a pause, “Promise.” 

“You better not.” you shove his shoulder.

He laughs, pulling you closer.

“I’m home, already.”

reblog for a kiss 😛😛

[sinsxo]

voiceover chaos. —blue lock

ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro.

synopsis. makeup grwm but your boyfriend does the voiceover (poorly).

cw. drabble, fluff, lighthearted fic.

wc. 0.8k words, not proofread.

isagi yoichi ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

“hi everyone— oh we’re already starting? okay.” he immediately locks in, hyper-focused, like it’s a soccer match. the only problem? he has no idea what you’re putting on your face.

“um, this is foundation, right? okay, so she’s starting with foundation— oh, wait no, this is foundation.”

wrong. it was primer and concealer, but close enough.

“huh? isn’t this foundation too?” he’s genuinely confused. “ahem, so she applied three layers of foundation and now she’s applying uhh... what’s this? a tan stick?”

contour. it was contour.

“and now she’s blending it out with a brush,” he says, trying to sound confident. “okay, another stick? oh, it’s the nose thing. now she’s... drawing shadows... on her nose?”

“another stick?? this one’s shiny. now she has sparkles on her nose,” he narrates, then mutters, “oh, wow that’s a lot, uh... s— slay!”

“okay, now she’s applying lipstick— woah, why does it look like that? is this lip gloss?” he leans in like the screen holds the answers.

“and now she’s peeling her lips off???”

“and she’s done?” he’s completely flustered. “gosh, i did so bad. anyway, she’s the most beautiful girl in the world, even without all this.”

“aww, you’re so sweet yoichi,” you laugh. “can i do your makeup next time?”

“s— sure!” he laughs awkwardly, but he’s already mentally preparing to be your next canvas.

itoshi rin ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

“why do i have to do this?” he asks flatly.

“for entertainment! now go,” you say as you press play.

he sighs, defeated.

“what the hell is that?” he frowns immediately and the video barely started. “she’s applying… some cream on her face.”

“okay, i bought her this one. i think it’s concealer. whatever that does,” he mutters, watching you blend it in. “i think it’s what she uses when she didn’t sleep enough — which is, like, every night. told her to sleep earlier but she never listens, so she wakes up looking like a panda.”

“rin! voiceover, don’t diss me!” you call out in the background.

“whatever— why are you moving so fast?” he’s clearly panicking now, squinting at the screen. “what the fuck is this???”

he gives up trying to follow, then regains composure.

“okay, now she’s drawing on some lips. even though i think she already has enough.”

“rin.”

“anyway— okay. nevermind. it’s over. she’s done,” he says, finally backing up from the screen. “beautiful like usual. perfect. don’t ask me to do this again.”

“can i do your makeup for the next video?”

“…no?”

itoshi sae ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

he looks like he’d rather be doing anything else. but he agrees to do the voiceover anyway — even if he’s still a menace.

“alright, so we’re starting with dior,” he says, casually. “bought her that one. it was like three thousand.”

“now we’re putting on… whatever this is. costed like two million,” he deadpans.

“babe, you’re supposed to describe what i’m doing.”

“i don’t know what you’re doing,” he replies, unimpressed. “i think this is blush. she looks like she’s blushing now.”

well, no shit.

“next, dior again. another million dollars gone. why is makeup so expensive anyway?”

“you’re exaggerating.”

“am not.” he squints. “okay… now we got this blue thing. for lips?”

a pause.

“and now we look like frozen, from elsa or something. she looks like she has hypothermia.”

you swear this man will be the death of you.

“okay… we wipe the blue thing off, then we spray some mist on our face. and look at that, all done,” he exhales like he just ran a marathon. “beautiful. her whole routine costs like four million dollars. no wonder she won’t let me touch her face.”

“it doesn’t cost that much, you’re being dramatic!”

“debatable.”

“also, can i do your make up for the next video?” you batted your eyelashes.

he didn’t flinch.

“again, debatable.”

nagi seishiro ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

“this sounds like a hassle... but okay,” he yawns.

he’s clearly half-assing it at first, but by the end, he’s genuinely interested.

“mmm, she’s putting this, like... stuff... on her face.” he mumbles. “blendy, blendy. looks like she’s doing art.”

“and now she’s drawing on her eyes or something. she looks cute when she’s concentrating,” a pause, then he turns to look at you. “wait, how did you do that? your eyes look like a cat’s now. that’s cool.”

“and then lip gloss, now her lips are shiny. my favourite,” he mumbles. “i like kissing them. very soft. tastes good. wait, can i say that here?”

“anyway, she’s sparkly now,” he says, eyes glued to the screen. “looks so pretty. like an angel. she always does.”

“okay, done. is there more?”

“didn’t you say it was a hassle?”

“yeah, but you looked good doing that,” he shrugs.

“want me to do your makeup next time?”

“if i can just sit there and do nothing, then yeah.”

© all written works are created and owned by @sinsxo. do not plagiarise, modify, repost or translate any of my content on other platforms under any circumstances.

all images, aside from the dividers, do not belong to me. credit belongs to their original creators on pinterest & xhs.

[ridingreeves]

𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗈➤𝟤

𝖯𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀－𝖤𝗅𝗂𝗃𝖺𝗁*𝖲𝗆𝗈𝗄𝖾*𝖬𝗈𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗑 𝖡𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒－𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝖲𝗆𝗈𝗄𝖾’𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾－𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗏𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖸𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗌

𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌－𝖧𝖺𝗋𝗌𝗁 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗎𝖺𝗀𝖾，𝖭－𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝗎𝗌𝖺𝗀𝖾，𝗍𝗈𝗑𝗂𝖼 𝖾𝗑 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗄𝖾，𝗌𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗆𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝖿 𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋

A/N- im not good at part two's so i hope you enjoy it 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝖿 𝗂𝗍'𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗂𝖿 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗇'𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗆𝖺 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽❤︎︎

Smoke’s name lit up your phone just after 11 p.m.

You were already turned away from the light, arm tucked under your pillow, trying to pretend the day didn’t shake you. But that name on your screen?

It flipped your whole body heat like a switch.

You groaned and answered anyway. “What, Elijah?”

Smoke chuckled, low and gravelly like he’d been waiting for you to cave. “Damn. Full government? You mad or tryna be professional?”

“I’m tryna go to sleep.”

“Yeah? Thought maybe you was waitin’ on him to get home. But that nigga probably still somewhere drinkin’ kombucha and talkin’ about tax brackets.”

You sighed, loud. “What do you want?”

“You doin’ somethin’ Saturday?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“I said—Saturday. You busy?”

You sat up a little. “Why?”

“Family cookout,” he said like it was nothing, like he hadn’t just turned your whole emotional equilibrium inside out hours earlier. “Stack throwin’ some ribs on the grill, aunties bringin’ plates, kids gon’ be in the yard actin’ up… you know the drill.”

Your voice flattened. “So? What’s that got to do with me?”

Smoke hesitated, just for a second. Then came the truth.

“Wanna see you there.”

You nearly laughed. “Why would I come to your family cookout?”

“Because you family,” he said, voice low and firm. “Still my son’s mama. Still got my last name. And ‘cause you already know my people been askin’ about you.”

“Oh, have they?” you said, sarcastically.

“Yup,” he said. “Aunt Dee talkin’ ‘bout how you used to bring them red velvet cupcakes, askin’ if you finally left that boy who look like he drive a Prius and listen to meditation playlists.”

You sighed. “Smoke…”

“Look, I’m not askin’ you to come over here and confess your love. I’m sayin’… I'm taking lil man. Come eat. Chill. Be around folks who know you.”

“And him?” you asked.

“Who?”

“You know who.”

Smoke scoffed. “Man, he not invited. Hell, if he pull up in them tight-ass pants talkin’ about chakras, Stack gon’ put him on the grill next to the sausages.”

Despite yourself, you snorted.

“C’mon,” Smoke said, quieter now. “You ain’t gotta stay long. Just come through. Our boy gon be running around with his cousins. Let your hair down.”

“I don’t know…”

“Let me make it easy,” he said, voice slick now, confident. “If you don’t pull up Saturday, Stack gon’ post that baby picture of you at our gender reveal. The one where you fell asleep holdin’ that blue onesie with cupcake on your face.”

“You wouldn’t dare—”

“I already sent it to his phone.”

“Smoke!”

He laughed. Like deep, belly-rolling, “I got her” laughed.

“That’s dirty.”

“Yeah,” he said. “But it’s family business, right?”

You were quiet for a long moment. The idea of seeing them all again—his people, your people once upon a time—was dangerous. You knew that. Knew it’d be stepping back into something you worked too hard to walk away from.

But also?

You missed them.

You missed you—the version of you who laughed too loud on plastic lawn chairs with a cup full of spiked sweet tea. The you who wore crop tops and hoop earrings without worrying about what her new man would think.

“…What time?”

Smoke didn’t say “I knew you’d come,” but you could hear it in the way he exhaled through a grin.

“Three. Bring some of that pasta salad they always beg you for.”

You sighed again, but softer this time. “You better not start with me when I get there.”

“I won’t,” he said, voice low. “I’ma just be happy to see you. And maybe… remind you what you walked away from.”

You shook your head. “You never stop, do you?”

“Not when it comes to you? Nah.”

You didn’t say goodbye. You just hung up and stared at the ceiling in the dark, heart pounding louder than it should’ve been.

SATURDAY

The music hit you before you even turned onto the street—classic Frankie Beverly & Maze, the anthem of every Black barbecue across the country. You rolled down the window a little and smiled despite yourself.

You hadn’t even parked before your son ran to your car.

“They got the bouncy house again.”

“Do they,” you said, trying to keep it cool.

He lit up like a firecracker anyway. “YESSS!”

You parked down the block. Far enough away to feel like you could slip out if things got weird. Close enough to be seen.

And oh, you were seen.

Stack spotted you first, posted by the grill with a white towel over his shoulder and a pair of tongs in one hand.

“Look what the wind blew in!” he yelled, grinning. “Look at her—comin’ through with the thighs out like she ain’t been missed!”

 “So where yo’ boyfriend at? He don’t do sun, or he just allergic to bein’ useful?”

You rolled your eyes. “He had to work.”

Stack laughed like that was the funniest lie he’d ever heard. “Of course he did. Probably somewhere tryna sell somebody an extended warranty.”

“Stack—”

You rolled your eyes, adjusting your sunglasses. “Don’t start.”

Stack came over to you, watching your boy run back with his cousins, then winked at you. “Your man let you out the house wearin’ that, huh? He brave.”

You didn’t answer. Just walked behind your boy toward the backyard where all the noise was coming from—kids hollering, grown folks talking over each other, people playing cards.

And then you saw him.

Smoke.

In a black tee, chain glinting in the sunlight, red Solo cup in one hand, leaning back in a lawn chair like he didn’t start half the drama in your life—and dare you to hold it against him.

He stood up when he saw you, smile slow, easy. Dangerous.

“Look who decided to bless the function,” he said, eyes sliding down your body.

“Relax,” you muttered. “I’m just here for my son.”

“Mmhm,” he said, stepping in close enough that only you could hear. “But you brought that sundress and them hoops like you knew I was gon’ be lookin’. That for me, mama?”

You pushed past him.

But the heat in your chest betrayed you.

⸻

The afternoon rolled on in that chaotic, beautiful way only family cookouts can. Kids in the sprinkler. Aunt Dee yelling at folks not to touch her potato salad. Stack on the grill talking ‘bout “I do this,” while burning the hot dogs anyway.

You sat on the folding chair under the tent, trying to stay cool and low-key, sipping sweet tea and avoiding all the side-eyes and slick comments from Smoke’s nosy-ass cousins.

You hadn’t been around in a while, but they remembered.

“Ohhh, she came back,” one of them whispered, not quiet enough.

“Lookin’ like she ain’t missed a beat,” another said, fanning herself.

Smoke was everywhere—tossing his son over his shoulder into the bounce house, cracking jokes with Stack, throwing shade with charm. But every time you glanced up, his eyes were already on you.

Like he never stopped watchin’.

Like he never would.

⸻

Later, when the sun was low…

You were sitting alone now, your son passed out under one of the tents with a plate next to him, cheeks sticky and hair wild.

You leaned back, trying to breathe. Trying to remember why you said you’d come.

Then, of course, Smoke appeared.

He sat down beside you, close but not touching. Just enough for the air between you to get thick.

“Appreciate you comin’,” he said.

You nodded.

He nudged your knee with his.

“You remember last summer’s cookout?” he asked. “Before everything fell apart?”

You looked at him. “Yeah. I remember.”

“You was dancin’ to that Fantasia song like you ain’t had no worries. I remember thinkin’, ‘Damn. That’s mine. Ain’t no way she ever leavin’.’”

Your chest ached. Because you remembered too. How good it had been before it wasn’t.

He turned toward you, full now. Honest. Dangerous in a new way.

“Everybody out here keep sayin’ we done,” he murmured. “But they don’t know how we built this. What we survived together. What we still feel. You think you can run from that, mama? But you always end up back here.”

“Back here don’t mean I’m stayin’.”

“Yeah?” he said. “Then why you still got that ring in your jewelry box?”

You looked at him, stunned.

He smirked. “Yeah. Ej told me. Said you wear it sometimes when you think nobody lookin’. Said you said it was ‘just a memory.’ But you don’t keep memories in velvet cases, do you?”

You stood fast, heart in your throat.

“I gotta go.”

Smoke stood too, but slower. Measured.

“You sure?” he asked. “’Cause you ain’t even tasted Stack’s ribs yet. Or had your second plate. Let me walk you to the car like I used to.”

You didn’t answer.

You just walked to your sleeping son, lifted him gently, kissed his sticky forehead.

Smoke followed behind you all the way to your car.

You laid your baby in the back seat, adjusted the belt, then turned around—and there he was. That same damn look on his face. Like he knew.

“Thanks for today,” you said, voice soft.

“You gon’ thank me better later?” he teased, but there was an ache in it. Something deeper.

You looked at him for a long second. Then whispered

“Smoke… don’t make me come back if you not gon’ keep me this time.”

His jaw clenched.

He stepped forward, hand brushing your wrist.

“I ain’t never stopped wantin’ to.”

You didn’t kiss him. Didn’t let him kiss you.

But the promise hung in the air.

And when you drove off that time, hands still trembling slightly on the wheel?

You weren’t scared like before.

You were curious.

Because you knew now—

That door?

Wasn’t as closed as you told yourself it was.

[sarahroutldge]

caveman.

a/n: I wrote this for the brilliant 'make rafe great again' campaign by @zyafics!! It's a bit of a mess and unedited but I hope someone enjoys it!

summary: you may love rafe cameron, but that doesn't mean you have to love his borderline toxic possessiveness and jealousy.

word count: 4k

warnings: angst, fluff, creepy guy behaving creepily (nothing graphic), violent rage on rafe's part (what else is new), alcohol, weed, smoking, mentions of past messy relationships, I'm lazy so I didn't proofread this... uh I think that's it. lmk if I forgot anything!

Parties at the Boneyard are practically rites of passage for the kids who grow up there; whether you’re a kid from the cut or the heir to a multi-million-dollar fortune on Figure Eight, you’re probably spending those summer Friday nights getting drunk or high—most likely both—at the Boneyard. In high school and college, those nights are treasured, rare moments where the parents and grandparents aren’t eyeing their kids, waiting to see them fail. 

And sure, maybe, on occasion, things get messy. The Pogues and the Kooks are never quite at peace for long, but usually it blows over before anything truly terrible can happen, as the Kooks involved know that once Deputy Shoupe gets notified, so will their parents. And for the Pogues, one run-in with the police is a future discarded—a scholarship taken away, a college acceptance thrown out, a job opportunity lost. 

But it’s hard to care so much about that when you’re a bit tipsy, a bit high, and dancing with your friends under the moonlight. Your boyfriend is just across the beach, drinking with his friends, and you can almost swear that the winks he sends you every once in a while feel like a jolt of electricity. Truly, they’re almost as intoxicating as the weed and the alcohol.

Kiara spins you around, and the two of you twirl across the makeshift dancefloor (which is really just sand), as you enjoy a drama-free night. The wind is just strong enough to provide an extra breeze to what would usually be a much hotter, much more humid Outer Banks night. And the music has mellowed from Top 40 hits to some softer, bedroom pop. You don’t know the words, but you’re having too much fun to care.

Unfortunately, though, nothing in the Outer Banks is ever truly uneventful. The bliss you’ve taken for granted is shattered without warning, when you feel a sweaty, unfamiliar hand grasping at your midsection. Immediately turning around, your hand drops from Kiara’s, and you make eye contact with the tall, unfamiliar man before you (a Touron, if you had to guess). Not wanting to make that much of a fuss, you simply shake your head, hoping he’ll get the message. But he’s either too wasted or simply doesn’t care, and he reaches for your waist again, and this time his grip is strong enough to pull you back into his chest. 

“What the hell, dude?” Kiara bites, before pushing him off of you. “Get off our beach if all you’re planning on doing is acting like a perv,” she adds. You grab her hand, squeezing it in thanks. 

The man raises his hands up as if he’s totally innocent, and you just scoff. Thankfully, though, he seems to finally take a hint, as he turns around. Kiara looks up at you, and opens her mouth as if to speak. But unfortunately, before she can, you hear the familiar but worrying shout of your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, from behind you.

“Hey, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Rafe starts, before shoving the man’s back. 

You can immediately sense where this is going, and frankly, you’re not up for it. “Rafe, it’s fine. Let’s just go.”

Rafe turns around. “It’s not fucking fine. He’s scum.” 

And just as you’re about to grab your boyfriend’s hand and pull him away, the stranger turns around. “Hey man, it was an honest mistake.”

“Yeah? Well, next time, ask a girl before you put your fucking hands on her, especially when that girl is my girlfriend.” 

“Rafe, please, let’s not do this. I just wanna go home,” you chime in, hoping that you’re loud enough for him to hear over his rage. 

“You didn’t want to go home until this prick put his hands on you,” Rafe argues.

And while you were annoyed before, now you’re irritated. “Rafe, let’s go,” you say, colder. 

He stares at you for a minute, and then looks around, noticing that the man who touched you has walked away. He huffs, his fists balled in anger, and then he walks away from you. You watch as Rafe walks across the sand, away from the crowd.

“Do you want to go after him?” Kiara asks, feeling awkward about the obvious tension between you and your boyfriend.

“No. He just needs to blow off some steam.”

Kiara nods. “Are… are you okay?” she asks, seeming genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… That was gross. And I’m mad at that guy, but unfortunately, shit like this happens. And I’m tired of having to deal with Rafe’s temper tantrums every time we go out.” 

“Any other time, I’d get it. Believe me. But this wasn’t just a guy getting too close—he wouldn’t back off. That piece of shit deserved whatever punch Rafe was gonna give him.”

“It’s not about what the guy did. Trust me, I’d be happy to see him get punched. It’s the possessiveness that bothers me. It’s like Rafe thinks I’m helpless without him,” you explain.

“I promise that’s not true,” Kiara assures you, but even she seems a little unsure of the words she’s saying. “Look, I’m not Cameron’s biggest fan—”

“I’m aware,” you interrupt, rolling your eyes.

Kiara chuckles. “But this time, I think that guy deserved what was coming to him. And it’s so obvious that Rafe loves you. Maybe your anger is a bit misplaced.”

You shake your head, trying to get her to understand your point of view. “Shit like this has happened before, Kie. And with guys that were way less upfront than that one. It’s not that I’m mad he defended me; I’m mad that he sees me as some damsel in distress, someone who can’t function without him as a bodyguard. I just wish he’d have a bit more faith in me.”

Your friend considers your words for a minute, ultimately giving you a tight smile. “C’mon, let’s get out of here. You can hang with us at the Chateau while your man figures his shit out.”

She tosses her arm around your shoulder, and your mouth curves into a reluctant smile. As the two of you make your way off the beach, your head turns behind you, looking out for your troublesome but usually well-meaning boyfriend. He’s far away now, but you can still sense the frustration radiating from him in waves. 

A few days pass before you see Rafe again. You’ve texted a bit back and forth, putting some space between the two of you. You know you’ll forgive him eventually, but you need time to consider how to move forward. Rafe’s issues with anger and jealousy span far back into his childhood. And it might not be your job to “fix” them, but you can’t help but want to. 

Rafe is complicated, always has been. From his issues with his father to his struggles with hard drugs and history of getting into fights, there’s a lot of darkness swirling around in that brain of his. For the longest time, he struggled with asking for help, lacking the attention and care of a parent who could teach their child how to deal with the toughest emotions. But you won’t deny that he’s gotten better at it. He’s matured in a way that his younger teenage self would never have imagined, and the responsibilities of adulthood combined with the weekly therapy appointments (that only you and his sisters know about) have helped to mellow him, giving him the tools with which to face his demons. 

And that’s why you won’t give up on him. 

Midsummer’s is just around the corner. Though balls and galas in the name of “charity” are certainly not rare on Figure Eight, Midsummer’s is always one of the grandest and most important (at least in the minds of the Eight’s parents and authority figures). For the teenagers, it’s a time to converse with adults about the future, hopefully landing connections that will help with the process of college applications and even internships later on. For the parents and grandparents, it’s the perfect time to show off the family unit; those who live on the island year-round and the families that stay just for the summer all come together to brag about the past year’s “achievements.” For those in their early twenties like you and Rafe, it’s a time to take advantage of the open bar and see the friends from high school that you haven’t seen in a while.

This year, however, is the first year that Rafe and you are attending as a couple. Your table is a mix of the Cameron family (plus Sarah’s boyfriend John B. who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else), your own family, and a few singles. Normally, this would be an occasion for pressure, but your families have known each other throughout the years, as the Figure Eight scene has always been a tight circle.

After the main courses have been served and the parents have swapped conversations about business for the latest gossip, the band’s music starts to slow. The sun has set and the moon looks stunning over the country club, reminding you of just how lucky you’ve been to grow up in a place so beautiful. And even though you and Rafe are a bit rocky, you almost forget it. The tipsiness from a few too many unclassy shots behind the bar with your friends has set in, and Rafe’s hand on your thigh feels almost too hot for a night like this. He squeezes the bare thigh uncovered by the slit in your dress every once in a while, as the two of you shift in and out of conversations with your family. It’s almost going too well. 

That is, until your father mentions your cousin’s upcoming marriage when he speaks to Ward.

“She’s the first of my nieces to get married. We’re all thrilled, and the wedding is only two months away.” He shifts a bit, seeking your attention. “Y/N, honey,” he says, and you turn your head to face your father, away from the pleasant and lighthearted conversation you’ve been having with Sarah and her boyfriend.

“Yes, Dad?”

“I still need to book the tickets for your trip with your cousin, so please send me the dates tomorrow at the latest. Or else you’re going to have to find your own way to pay for them,” he adds, laughing at himself like it’s the most ludicrous thing in the world. 

“Will do, Dad,” you add, and as soon as the words have left your mouth you go back to the conversation with your friends. 

But before you can speak, you feel the hand that’s been on your thigh move to your hand, squeezing to get your attention.

“What trip was your dad talking about?” Rafe asks, unsure of why this hasn’t been mentioned before.

“Oh, Rafe, I’ve told you about this. I’m going away with my cousin and a few other girls in a few weeks for her bachelorette party.” 

Rafe considers this. He knew you’d mentioned a vacation, but he could’ve sworn it was a family trip up to visit your grandparents. His jaw clenches, though his tone remains the same. “Where is it?”

“Miami. We’re all staying in one large suite at a beach resort that I can’t remember the name of.”

He nods. “Why can’t I come?”

You hesitate. He did hear the word bachelorette, right? “Rafe, it’s a bachelorette party. You’d be the only guy there.”

And yet he doesn’t seem to get it. “Exactly. Babe, you’ll be going to bars in Miami without me or any other guys. And as much as I love you, you’re the clumsiest drunk I know,” he adds, with a smirk. Clearly, he thinks you’ll find his comment funny. Though you normally would, he says it with a condescending tone that makes you drop the hand you’ve been holding.

“I can take care of myself, Rafe.”

“Can you?” he asks, not yet sensing the change in mood.

“Yes!” you respond, more sternly but without raising your voice. “I’ve taken care of myself drunk way longer than you and I have been together. I think I can manage a few days in Miami with my cousin and her friends.” His eyebrows furrow in confusion, not understanding where your anger is coming from.

“I know you can take care of yourself, babe, but you shouldn’t have to. I’m a guy—I know how guys behave. And you’re nice—sometimes too nice—and it makes me worry about you.”

“I am a grown woman, Rafe. I’m not helpless.” 

“I never said you were helpless, and you know it. Why are you fighting with me over this? It’s like you think I’m the bad guy, and not whatever perv is gonna start groping you in a sticky Miami bar.” 

Frankly, you’re stunned, and a thought comes to your head. Is he really worried for me—or does he not trust me? But you don’t feel like voicing your opinion out loud, and you need to cool off. You stand up out of your seat, and shove your chair in. The action draws the eyes of your family, but you ignore your mother asking where you disappeared to. You need fresh air.

Taking the path you and every other Figure Eight kid knows from the time they’re fifteen years old, you follow through the winding hallway of the club that leads out back, to where the waiters and other club employees take their breaks. The immediate gust of wind feels refreshing on your face, and you walk to the edge of the parking lot. 

Your feet take you to the abandoned dock that, for whatever reason, was never taken down when the country club was renovated a few decades ago. It’s hidden behind overgrown trees and weeds, and you breathe in relief at the absence of anyone else there. Though from here you can still faintly hear the sounds of the event behind you, it’s quiet enough to where you can also hear the swamp waters crash against the dock, and the night bugs buzzing around you. 

The edge of the dock is too dirty for you to sit down on—your eagle-eyed mother would immediately notice any stain on your dress and berate you for it—so you simply stand there, thinking about the boyfriend you left at the table. The look on Rafe’s face just makes you let out a harsh chuckle. It occurs to you at that moment that your boyfriend is either an idiot or really entitled. Maybe he’s both. 

You’ve dealt with this shit before, and Rafe knows that. He knows that your most recent boyfriend before him was controlling and overprotective in a way that made you feel uncomfortable. It’s why you broke up in the first place.

Does he not even listen to me?

The small but effective cardigan that covers your shoulders begins to itch, and you reach to take it off, only to stumble upon something in the left pocket. When your hands grasp the item, you immediately sigh in relief, pulling it out. 

The pack of cigarettes is old, of course; you haven’t worn this sweater since high school, but it was the only one that even somewhat went with your dress tonight. And Outer Banks summer nights have always had a bit of a chill to them. Your fingers carefully open the pack, pulling out one of three cigarettes left, before setting the pack down next to your feet. You drag it to your lips, holding it there as your fingers naturally reach for the lighter in the opposite pocket. 

It takes a few flicks before a flame is successfully lit. You draw it to the end of the cigarette, an inhale.

About halfway into your second cigarette, you hear the sounds of footsteps on the creaking dock. 

“You hate when I smoke,” he says, and though the immediately recognizable voice of Rafe Cameron should be comforting, in the aftermath of the argument it’s only agitating.

“I don’t want to do this now,” you say without turning around to face him. He nods, though you don’t see, before walking a few more steps.

He’s about a foot away from you, and you still haven’t turned. “Look, Y/N, I only—”

And his insistence on talking only adds to your irritation. Turning around your heel, you look him right in the eyes, meeting his blank face. “No, Rafe, you don’t get to speak.”

“But I—”

“No,” you say, and he finally seems to understand. 

A beat passes, and he nods, encouraging you. 

“Rafe, I love you. I really love you. But I don’t love you enough to deal with distrust that clearly comes from a place of insecurity rather than genuine concern. I’m not saying that you don’t have any concern for me; I’m saying that whatever your little interrogation was back at the table felt more like an insult than anything else. And you know the shit I went through with Noah. So don’t act as if my rage is misplaced or coming out of nowhere. I’ve done this shit before and I know I deserve better, Rafe.” 

You take an inhale of the cigarette, before exhaling right in his face. He rolls his eyes at the action, but you remain unbothered. “Can I say something now?” he asks. 

“Sure.”

He looks hesitant, but he proceeds anyway. “I’m not great with words—you know this. I’m not good at expressing myself eloquently, and one of the things I like so much about you is that I don’t ever feel like I need to. You know what I’m feeling even when I can’t find the words to describe it, and you don’t push me to.”

He waits a bit, eyes searching your face to ensure that you’re paying attention. When he finds at least a bit of interest in your eyes, he continues. 

“I’ll be honest. I didn’t get why you ran off before.”

“I can tell.”

He ignores the snark in your comment. “But it doesn’t matter whether I get it or not. What matters is that I love you and I trust you. And I did sound a bit like a dick.”

“Just a bit?” you ask, and he tries not to smile at your question. Clearly, he’s headed in the right direction with his speech if you’re willing to even joke with him.

“Fine, I deserve that,” he accepts. “I mess up a lot. Like a lot. I don’t always say the right things and I don’t always express my feelings in the most polite way, but I’m working on it. I promise.”

“Rafe, that’s just the problem. I’m tired of hearing you say that you’re working on it—I want to actually see the change. I can’t do the possessive caveman shit again, I can’t. And I don’t like feeling like your teacher. I’m your girlfriend; as much as I care about you and want to help you with shit like this, it can’t be all our relationship is.”

He nods. “I know, babe. You deserve better than that.” And something in his tone makes you want to lean into his sincerity, trusting that he actually gets how you feel. You drop the butt of the cigarette, and he stomps it out with his foot. “Your mom would go insane if you ruined those heels.”

You smile… just a bit. Testing the waters, he brings a hand up to your face, and your body reacts by leaning in, craving his touch. Even when you’re mad at him, he’s the one you yearn for. But before you can get swept away in the magic, you need to make sure that he gets your point. Your hand reaches up to his and pulls it down. He immediately frowns at the action, and it takes all the willpower you possess to not abandon your speech when his lips pout in that adorable way that they do. 

Instead, you squeeze his hand in assurance, and his pout morphs into something less worrying, more hopeful. 

“Rafe, I don’t mind that you get worried sometimes. I don’t even mind that you get a little jealous. They’re your feelings and you’re entitled to them. But you’re not entitled to talk to me the way that you just did. I love you and I would never, ever do anything to risk that.” You punctuate your declaration by bringing your hands to his face, pulling him down to meet you. He settles into the familiar action, and leans in.

“I’ll work on it, I promise,” he says, only an inch away from your lips. 

You nod, sensing the truth in his words. “Thank you.”

His blue eyes look into yours with a gleam of hope. With the natural habit that comes with almost a year of dating, his lips come to press against yours, as his hands fall to your hips. The moment is picture perfect, and your hands run down his tux-covered chest. It’s gentle at first, almost hesitant—just like when you first started dating. But then it moves into something deeper, as you feel his hands squeeze at your hips and his lips move against yours, his tongue finding its way into your mouth. What started out as something soft and romantic quickly becomes something much more crazed and heated, with whines and sloppy kisses drowning out the noise of the waters behind you and the country club in the distance.

You make out like teenagers, hidden away from everyone else as if you’re not both grown adults in a serious committed relationship. It’s thrilling and messy, filled with passion and earnestness, as if he’s trying to convince you of his promise with the kiss. And you love it.

But unfortunately, the fog of youth can only last for so long. Your immature but intoxicating makeout session is too-soon interrupted by the sounds of your boyfriend’s closest friends, Kelce and Topper. 

“I told you they’d be making out,” Topper says, and you and Rafe immediately jump apart as if your parents have caught you. But he refuses to drop you entirely, instead pulling you with him as he turns to face his friends. 

His mood quickly shifts from slightly annoyed to severely unimpressed when he sees Topper take a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet, passing it to Kelce. “Really?” he asks. You roll your eyes at the juvenile bet. He pulls you in front of him, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Hey, you have no reason to be mad, Cameron. You’re not the one with twenty dollars less in their pocket,” Kelce bites back, and Topper just snickers.

“Not really my problem and also not my fault,” Rafe retorts. You can’t help but giggle at the petty argument, and Rafe’s heart swells knowing that your argument has been resolved. Maybe not completely, but he knows the two of you will move forward. You always do.

As the two boys in front of you begin to bicker more about God-knows-what, Rafe leans down to your ear. “You reek of cigarettes by the way.”

“And since when does that bother you?”

“Oh, I couldn’t care less. But your mother—”

You huff, not letting him finish. “Don’t even go there. Let’s sneak out through the back parking lot.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth. Come on.” He grabs your hand, tugging you forwards. The two of you shove through Topper and Kelce, but Rafe couldn’t care less. You quickly make your way across the parking lot, hand-in-hand. 

“And maybe since I won’t be joining you on the Miami trip, you could give me a little show of all the bikinis I won’t get to see,” he adds with a smirk. 

You gasp in mock agitation, but the mischievous glint in your eyes tells him that you’re back in tune with him. “Only if you’re on your best behavior,” you tease back. 

I'm soooo bad at endings so apologies for that - but otherwise hope y'all enjoyed!! and here's a reminder that requests are very much open :)

also again - shoutout to zyafics for this clever campaign!! I loved participating and I encourage y'all to read the other great fics written for it <3

[angelkiyo]

you had intentions of finding true love here; that was its pitch line after all. you met a nice guy, his name being kento. he was 28, a salaryman, and worked in the city. life would be stable and serene.

however, when the bombshell came, you couldn’t help but simply feel drawn to toji fushiguro. it was like a tropical storm hit you.

he was the oldest one in the villa, definitely older than you by a decade or so. he was 36 and a dad but he sure as hell didn’t look it. he worked out every day, worked in private security, and his body appeared to be sculpted from a renaissance artist; the cliché tattoos of snakes and such were etched on his sun-kissed skin.

you felt his eyes on you the entire time and you stare at him. you could only wish you hadn’t.

“damn, he’s such a dilf,” your fellow housemate commented.

you remember laughing at her words, “no, he’s just fucking old.”

for some time, the tension between the two of you felt grand, despite your thing with kento. winning challenges together didn't help either and the fact that he let it slip that he wasn't looking to mess around yet stared at you like you were a meal amplified that.

however, it isn't until one of the girls got a text where it showed that others saw your tension too:

🔔 “islanders, the hideaway is open tonight. the couple chosen by the public to spend the night is...y/n and toji. #SheLikesItRoughApparently.”

you felt the rest of the house go into chaos, with some people catcalling, laughing, and screaming in glee.

your gaze went over to toji: smirking like he just won the damn lottery, and then over to kento, whose expression looked rather solemn.

"comin' or nah, princess?" and while you meekly walked over to him, you heard someone yell out "use protection!"

yeah, you had plenty of that at the hideaway.

it was big and mirrored a suite from a five-star hotel. the room had a king-sized bed littered with rose petals and candles. not to mention the mirrors everywhere and the big box of condoms in the drawer of the nightstand.

the silence captivated the both of you until you spoke: "you're awfully comfortable for someone who didn't want anything with other people, old man."

he turned around at you, his gaze almost predatory. "let me clarify. i never pretended i didn't want you."

"i'll show you what this old man can do, sweetheart.”

fuck.

what happened next was a blur, but what you do know was the quick whirlwind of clothes on the floor, you being pushed onto the lavish bed, and the lack of care for hidden cameras. you just didn't care anymore, and that was the mindset that engulfed the two of you for nearly an hour.

the sound of skin slapping filled the room while you clawed at the silky satin sheets beneath you. you had tears brim under your eyes as you felt toji's calloused arms hold you in place in front of the myriad of mirrors in front of you.

you couldn't fucking take it anymore. the way he rolled his hips and thrusted into you with such incredible speed knocked the wind out of you.

"ah—fuck!" you mewled, arching your back as much as you can. toji hit all your sweet spots without trying and the fact alone irked you. it irked you that he had a reason to be so cocky and relentless.

the sensation of his cock made your eyes roll: filling, fast, and sure as fuck rough.

"goddamnit ma. your pussy is milking me dry," he let out a guttural moan as he bottomed out in you, "fuck, doll-face. letting me fuck you so good."

the wolfish grin on his face stayed there on his face as he examined the mirror and how your ass moved while he thrusted into you with finesse. the way the skin where your back tattoo was, moved drove him crazy. however, the little milky white ring where he thrusted into you and the sound of your slick and moans drove him crazier.

“think your prissy little salaryman can fuck you like this? hm?” he maneuvered your hips like you were a doll and kept his pace.

toji could give two shits about the damn cameras, because all he wanted at this moment was you.

and proving that he isn’t old.

[mojifushiguro]

unforgettable ! e.yeager & a.arlert

"its not gonna work for you... nobody can equal me, I know..." eren x black!fem x armin

warnings: smut, a little rough sex, cursing, mild angst towards the middle, mentions of cheating, lengthy.

part 5. this is part 4. next part here.

"she been ignoring me all day." eren sipped from the styrofoam cup in his hands while leaning back on the couch.

connie lit a blunt, puffing it and closing his eyes. he exhaled, "who? ya girl?"

eren slowly nodded. "she came home at bout... what, 2 o'clock? in the afternoon. then..." he took another sip. "she wasn't sayin shit to me. ion een know what I did." he let out a lazy laugh, but was serious. he was just high.

he looked at you across the room, laughing it up with sasha.

"you think you did sum?" armin asked, sitting on the table in front of him. eren leaned over to look past armin to get a better view of you, despite all the people crowding you, as he slowly shook his head. "not shit."

"shit man." connie passed eren the blunt. he'd already had two. as many as he had, he just couldn't get you off his mind. "you know where she was last night?" jean asked.

"Sashas."

"you sure?" jean glanced up from his phone.

eren took his eyes off you and looked at jean. "hell yeah im sure, where else she gon go?"

you, on the other hand, with a drink in your hand, stood with sasha as she cracked jokes about random things. you couldn't help but feel eyes on you, and you looked over.

you locked eyes with eren, who tilted his head back to signal you to come over to him. as drunk as you were, you knew it wasn't the best option. you shook your head no. you could see him smack his lips and signal you again, but you just looked away.

"okay. the hell y'all doin?" sasha frowned in confusion.

you turned to sasha and looked her in the eyes. "okay, I gotta tell you sum, but you gotta promise not to tell nobody. even if we fall out one day."

"girl now you know." she put her hand on her hip and you pulled her close and whispered in your ear.

she stayed silent as you whispered, but her face said everything.

all the boys looked back at you two and then looked at eren. "you think they over there talkin bout you, E?" ony snickered with connie, dapping him up.

eren groaned and closed his eyes, throwing his head back. "do not date, bruh. this shit insufferable."

sasha's mouth hung open and she stared at you. "girl... you petty as hell!" she bursted into laughter, but you hit her on the shoulder. "but you cant tell nobody sasha."

"y/n, you know im not. but who was the bitch texting his phone?"

"that's the fuckin thing, ion know. but I think it was mikasa. you know how close they be, how they always talking shit bout somebody? yeah."

sasha looked around. "okay lets find the bitch and press her bout it."

before you could stop sasha, she grabbed your hand and dragged you along.

"where the fuck they goin?" eren squinted, watching you and sasha leave out the door.

"damnnnn." jean laughed, shaking his head.

"prolly went to find some niggas, especially sasha. she got a new one every week." ony smiled, grabbing the blunt from jean. connie nodded. "and you gon get yo ass beat when she figure out you shit talkin again."

you and sasha stood there, arms crossed, staring at mikasa. she frowned, looking from you to her. "what?"

"you been fuckin my nigga?" you stared into her eyes. mikasa blinked before laughing and shaking her head. "girl, what?"

"you heard her. we dont wanna have to beat yo ass, cus you apart of this group, but you been fuckin my homegirl man."

mikasas eyes just widened and she held her hands up. "hold the fuck on. you been fuckin jean, too?"

you and sasha frowned, "jean?"

"you fucked jean?" sasha squinted.

mikasa shook her head, tossing her drink to the ground. "I knew his ass was cheating." before she could walk away to go confront him, you grabbed her.

"wait, you aint text eren the night before last night?" you stared at her in disbelief.

mikasa shook her head. "I was with jean. after you left that thing at connies house, me and him went home." she paused. "well nobody was 'posed to know that so dont tell nobody."

she was obviously drunk, and whatever secret animosity you had with her was out the window.

you and sasha looked at each other in disbelief.

mikasa frowned and started to blink. "wait, somebody texted eren?"

"yeah, and we dont know who it is. we thought it was you." sasha said in an honest tone.

connie rubbed erens shoulder, holding back his laugh. "you good, fam. she prolly just went to talk about the situation with sasha."

"ion know man, you know it aint ever sum good happening when she get wit sasha." ony looked at eren. "who knows what they coulda did when they was out yesterday."

ignoring the way ony purposely tormented eren, making everybody laugh, armin looked down in his phone, biting his lip.

eren stood up, pushing connies hand away from his shoulder, with an irritated look on his face. "Ian fuckin playin." he mumbled, pouring himself another drunk and walking off towards the back door, pushing past anyone that got in the way.

as everyone got serious and quiet, connie looked at armin. he looked at connie, basically reading his mind.

armin sighed, getting up to go check on eren. he looked around outside until he saw him, sitting by the pool by himself, where was no one there. he sat on the end of a lounging chair and armin did the same on a chair that was right beside him.

"you good?" he asked after a long silence.

eren looked at the water flow in the pool due to the jets and shook hie head, leaning over.

"they up in there playin and shit, I just wanna know what's wrong wit my girl."

armin sat there and listened, looking at the ground. "did sum happen before she started actin like that?"

eren took a sip from his cup and shook his head. "we was being lovey dovey as hell. cuddlin and shit. no argument, no nun. I checked on her, asked her if she was good she said yeah. morning came, she getting ready and shit, out all day and night, and she aint come back til this morning."

armin just licked his lips and tucked them between his teeth, thinking about the situation.

he never really knew how much eren cared about you, based off the things he saw and the things he said. the way he talked about your relationship.

not that it was in a bad way, but in a way that made it seem like eren didn't really care about it. from what armin knew, you and eren never talked things out, only had sex and whatnot, setting the problem to the side.

he also know eren started being quiet about it.

stopped telling him, maybe not just him, you guys' business.

he did feel bad. knowing that eren actually wanted things to work out between you and him and not just going and fucking other girls like he did in his past relationships.

a part of armin wished eren did what he used to do and tell armin he could have the girl he was with, because she was useless to him now.

he never agreed with what eren said or took that chance. but you meant so much to him in only the span of a week, he couldn't help but want you.

"you sure you aint do nothing? like... to trigger that? she ever acted like that?"

he hoped he did.

"hell yeah, when I make her mad she'll ignore me for a good few minutes to a hour, but it aint ever been for the whole day." eren took a deep breath and sighed. "and im positive Ian do shit. I know I do sometimes, but right now, I know I didn't."

armin leaned back on his hands.

he liked you, he really did. it was a shame you even chose to be with eren, because he liked you.

"just... try to talk to her tonight about it." was all he could say. eren was still his best friend, and he had to be there for him as a friend, not as someone who was jealous that he had the girl he'd always hoped for.

you sat upstairs, away from all the crowds with mikasa and sasha. you three sat on the bed, legs crossed.

all of you were drunk, tipsy, whatever, trying to figure out what to do.

"you love him, right?" mikasa asked.

"who, eren? of course." you answered.

"wait, so what was the purpose of fucking armin?" she asked, looking back and forth from you and sasha.

you shook your head. "Ion know, and I really shoulda never did it. but he was telling me how eren wasn't a good boyfriend, and in the moment, I already had a few drinks. eren made me mad before we went to the party so I guess it was just something to calm me down."

sasha nodded, looking around the room to think of a solution for you. "you ever considered just admitting to it? I mean, not fully, but you know."

your brows furrowed at the thought. at first, you didn't mind eren finding out you cheated, but now, you didn't care at all.

mikasa stopped your thoughts and held her hand up, "but you gotta think, those messages could be a big ass misunderstanding. you said the number wasn't saved, what if the messages weren't meant for him?"

that was another thing. the messages made it really clear he cheated, but then again there wasn't a 100% chance he did, unless you were to catch him in the act.

"so I dont think you should tell em. if he's that confused, he prolly dont even know he, quote on quote, cheated." mikasa pointed at you, chugging her margarita.

but even if he didn't cheat, what would you and armin do? you liked armin, sure. but you didn't like him enough to choose him over eren, and you think you made that pretty clear to him.

"I say... talk to him about it." sasha shrugged. "you never talk things out with him, so talk to him about it. let him know 'I know you cheated.'"

mikasa nodded. "just dont let him find out you did."

after a few hours of anxiety and drinks, you had sasha drop you off, since she was the most functioning girl out of the group.

eren came a few minutes after you did.

it was past midnight, and you wiped your makeup off in your bathroom mirror.

you'd just gotten out of the shower to at least be a little sober. putting one wipe in the trash, you grabbed another to wipe your lips.

you thought about what mikasa said. what if it was a big misunderstanding? when you weren't being mean to eren in the moment, you couldn't lie like you didn't miss him.

you remembered sasha said to talk it out, but you just couldn't get yourself to talk to him.

he showered in the guests bathroom to give you space. he knew you were drunk, and he didn't wanna set off any emotion by being around you, but he missed you so bad.

you heard the bedroom door close, glancing over for just a second before continuing what you were doing. eren put his clothes in a basket and stretched with a yawn.

he walked to the bathroom, standing beside you and leaning back on the counter.

he wanted to see if he could at least get you back to normal, maybe to avoid talking about how you were acting, because he wasn't good at explaining things when it came to you anyways.

"hey." he said quietly, eyes scanning your whole face. you stayed quiet.

eren pressed his lips together and pushed himself off the counter, leaving the bathroom and going towards your shared bed, where he sat on the edge of it and got on his phone.

you finished your skin care, putting things back in place on the counter before turning the light off and closing the bathroom door. you only wore a tank top and underwear, which was odd to eren because you'd always sleep in his clothes at night.

he didn't look at you when you walked to your side of the bed, instead of crawling over him just to get on his nerves.

or when you sat on the end of the bed instead of laying beside him, grabbing the remote and finding something to watch on the tv.

a long silence washed over you two, the ambiance of the tv being the only thing keeping him from going insane.

he didn't face you, he still sat on the end of the bed. but he put his phone down and put his face in his hands, sighing deeply.

"ion know what I did. I promise ion know what I did." he started off. you didn't turn around, but you took your eyes off the tv and listened.

"you cant sit here and keep ignoring me, cus ion know why you doin it. if I did sum, y/n, talk to me about that shit. you been out all yesterday, and I promise im not assuming you been wit somebody else, cus you said you was wit sasha, but if its somebody else you want, ion care dude, just say that." eren looked over at you, staring at the back of your head.

"I trust you as much as I love you, im not gon leave you alone. if sum wrong, yell at me, scream, mutter under yo breath, ion care." he looked away. "just dont ignore me. that shit hurt." he looked back at you. "im talmout, you barely talk to me. you aint been answering my messages, you know how long it been since we kissed? a long ass time for us. you know."

you felt a small ache in your heart. you didn't wanna talk to him at all.

you just turned to face him, making eren sit up and turn towards you. "ion know who texted yo phone that night, last night, but whoever it was, they can have you."

now, of course you didn't mean what you said, but you were speaking off of emotions and not true feelings.

you saw the puzzled look on erens face and you scoffed. "them hoes dont love you like I love you, and ion know why I gotta keep telling you that." you shook your head, looking deeply into his eyes.

he knew what you were assuming, but before he could defend his self, he wanted to reassure you.

"when I tell you, on everything I love, I never cheated on you in my fuckin life." he put his hand on his heart. "like from the minute we got together, y/n, I never cheated. I know Ian shit sometimes, but I know what I be doing." he explained. "so right now, bruh please believe me when I say I have no idea what you talkin bout."

you let out and laugh and looked away. "okay, so who was the bitch texting yo phone in the middle of the night, talkin bout y'all was flirting at the party and she know you got a girlfriend, all that shit."

eren dragged his hands down his face and stood up. "Ion know who that was."

"now youn know. nigga you're insufferable, you know that?" you stood up, walking towards him. "you always lyin for these bitches that wouldn't raise a finger for yo ass." you nudged his forehead, making him lick the inside of his cheek and look you in the eyes.

eren just slowly nodded.

it aint do nothing but piss you off more.

"I cant be around you." you mumbled, grabbing your phone and leaving the room. you went to the living room and plopped down on the couch, crossing your arms.

now, you might've still been a little drunk, but you had every reason to be mad at him.

about an hour passed of you being down there by yourself. you scrolled on your phone while laying on your stomach, foot hanging off the couch.

you heard eren coming to the living room, but you didn't say anything. you weren't as mad anymore, simply because you'd kind of forgotten you even argued about it. until you felt him put all his weight on you, and lay on your back.

"eren get back." you struggled to get him off of you and he hummed, "mhh mhh" as he kissed your cheek.

"ion want no kisses, move!" you covered your cheeks and turned your face away from him.

"why not?" he rolled off of you to lay on the floor beside the couch, putting his arm behind his head.

"cus you cheated on me." you leaned over to look at him.

eren sighed. "I didn't, baby. I promise, ion know who texted me. ion know how I can prove it, cus it took yo ass so long to ask me about it, but ion know who number it was, or why they texted me. I was wit ony and jean the whole time at that party."

your eyes trailed erens face. you really wondered if he was lying or not.

"eren just tell the truth. im sick of bein mad."

"I promise, im not lyin. I swear."

well shit.

you didn't know if you wanted to believe him or not.

but erens never been that genuine about anything. he played a lot. he was never that serious.

"okay." you mumbled, standing up and pulling his arm to take him with you.

you went back to your room, eren closing the door behind you two. you sighed and laid on the bed, stretching your arms out.

eren crawled over you, smiling as he laid back on your back. "you know I wouldn't do that shit." he mumbled, grabbing your face and kissing you. you hummed into the kiss. "I know."

"then why you be actin up?" he rubbed your arms before moving his down to wrap them around you. you closed your eyes. "cus I miss you."

"you miss me?" he mocked you with a light laugh, making you playfully roll your eyes. you felt him get off of you and put his knees on the outside of both of your thighs. "been stressed?"

you nodded, laying your head on your arms and closing your eyes. "because of you."

he started to rub up and down your back, softening his eyes at you. "m sorry then." he leaned down and kissed the back of your neck softly before getting back up and slipping his hands up your shirt.

you hated that it reminded you of armin.

almost everything he did reminded you of armin, rather than everything armin did reminding you of him.

you kept your eyes closed, softly humming at the small massage eren gave you.

you felt him move from your back and shoulders to your hips, rubbing them softly with his thumbs and he looked at you. "I missed ya." he said in a low tone.

you felt small pokes on your butt, making you giggle and wiggle around. "I know, stop!" you waved your hand back.

eren bit his lip, rubbing and squishing your butt. "whatchu doin?" you asked, propping up on your elbows and looking back at him. eren looked at you. "dont look at me like that."

you smiled, turning around and stretching your arms in front of you, arching a little.

you felt erens hands on your hips again, and him pressing against you. "you doin that on purpose." he glanced at you, feeling his boner kick in.

you laughed. "doin what, eren?"

he stayed quiet, using his right thumb to press against your clit, tilting his head to get a better view of your reaction.

you licked your lips, letting out a silent exhale, like he just calmed your nerves.

eren smirked a little at seeing your face, and rubbed his thumb softly against your clit and entrance, going back and forth between the two.

he felt you throb against his finger, he felt the way you got so wet at almost the smallest thing. he loved how much your body loved him.

how you couldn't resist to rub yourself against him, softly humming at the sensation.

it made him feel so nice. not only on the outside, but the inside.

eren leaned down, his hand slowly moving up to your breast. he softly massaged it while kissing behind your ear. "wanna have sex?" he mumbled, pressing his bulge against your butt.

you bit your lip, opening your eyes to look at him, and you nodded.

eren grabbed your chin to lift your head and gave you soft kisses on your neck, sucking at sensitive spots. he knew your body better than anybody else.

once he saw a hickey start to form, he let your head go and pushed himself off of you. he spread his legs further on each side of you, tapping your thigh. you raised your butt, arching your back and moving back against him.

"be patient, baby." eren slightly pulled his sweats down, grabbing his dick and moving closer to you. he pulled your underwear down and off of you, tossing them to the other end of the bed.

he gripped your ass, grinning at the way you throbbed around nothing, and glistened already. he teased you with his thumb, knowing you hated that.

"erennn, come onnnn" you whined. he tied his hair back and moved his hand up your waist.

you felt him slowly slide the tip in, effortlessly, stretching you out with every inch.

"oh my god..." you moaned softly, gripping the sheets already.

eren pulled you against him slowly, groaning at how slick you were, the way you tightened around him, it drove him crazy. "I missed you." he whispered. before you could return the favor, he started to thrust in and out of you.

"f....uck, I... I missed youuu" you moaned, toes curling, and fingers starting to hurt from the grip you had on the covers.

"mhm? you did?" eren bit his lip, thrusting at the same pace, but harder. you definitely pissed him off earlier. moans kept slipping out as you blabbered everything that came to your mind. "yeah... oh my g- yes...!"

your brows furrowed. he hit your g spot perfectly, gripping your ass with a force so hard, it felt amazing.

"aw, baby, you feel so good. you know that?" he leaned over on one arm, using his other one to hold you close to him. he pressed on your stomach, making you go completely silent, but lips still parted.

that's how he knew he hit the spot.

suddenly, you gasped and let out a long moan.

"talk to me, baby." he mumbled, pressing even harder. you grinded against eren as he continued to thrust, hard and meaningful. "fuck, eren, I love you, I love you so much!"

he nodded, slowing the thrusts down. he got up, pulling out slowly.

your body dropped, and you shook your head, looking back at him. "why you stop, eren?" you asked softly.

eren turned you over and made you lay on your back. "so we can have sex." he muttered, not taking his eyes from between your legs. instead, he spread them, positioning himself at your entrance.

you put your arms beside your head, looking deeply at eren. when you felt him slide back into you, you both let out small gasps, eyes locking with each others.

he grabbed your waist, pulling you closer as he slowly thrusted into you again. your hands flew to his wrists, eyes rolling back, and back arching. he felt too good to be true.

"so big..." you whispered, trying your best to suppress your moans. eren licked his lips, "I know" he replied, taking his shirt off and tossing it on the floor. he leaned over you, quickening his pace.

every thrust earned a breath or a moan. you dragged your hand down his chest, opening your eyes to look him in his. you wrapped your arm around his neck, and the other around the back of his shoulder.

"harder.." you whispered, looking at him with glossy, sweet eyes. eren stopped, adjusted his self, and there it was. you wrapped both of your arms around his neck, moaning in his ear, as he groaned in yours. "so tight." he leaned more into you, pink flushed face in your neck.

"oh.. fuck.." he groaned, feeling you tighten around him. you were so wet, so warm. he was so big, felt so good.

and you wrapping your legs around his waist didnt make it any better. matter of fact, he got deeper.

you moaned and whined in his ear, mixed with his moans and choppy groans in yours, it mixed like liquid.

"why you doin me like thisss?" you whined, softly hitting his back. "I cant... I cant do it, E!" you dug your nails in his shoulders.

he frowned at the pain, but he didn't stop you. "you can." he thrusted harder and slower, making you yell out, your hands moving to grip the sheets again. "I- I cant..." you moaned softly, moving your legs from his waist, and spreading them instead.

"you let somebody else fuck you?" eren grunted, moving his lips from your neck to your lips, grabbing the back of your head to raise you towards him, starting to tongue kiss you.

he pulled away, moving up to grab behind your knees, gripping your legs. "huh? somebody else had this pussy?"

with the sensation of constant throbbing and an upcoming orgasm, you quickly shook your head. "no.. no" you furrowed your brows, looking down at his stomach.

you felt his hand leave one of your legs and grab your face, forcing you to look at him.

"dont lie." he stared deep into your eyes, quickening his pace. you tried to stop your eyes from rolling back, as you gripped his wrist, your legs tightened around him, slowing him down.

"open em." eren looked down, letting your face go. you whined and whimpered, "I cant, erennnn" that 'sad' expression washed over your face.

you tried your best to hold back on cumming, but you were so close.

all of a sudden, you felt your leg go in the air, and on his shoulder, the other one being forced open. "and dont cum." he groaned, starting back fucking you.

"come onnn" you moaned, reaching down, but eren smacked your hand, looking at you as he fucked you senseless. "somebody else been in this pussy, y/n?" he knew you could already barely talk, you were too busy moaning.

you shook your head, opening your eyes and looking eren in his. "no..."

eren threw his head back, grabbing your ankle. "hah... fuck, dont fuckin lie." he dug his nails in your thigh. "they fuck you better?"

hell naw.

"nooo, fuckkk eren!" your legs started to twitch. "no?" he mocked. you shook your head. "no, no, I promise" you tried to move away, but he only moved closer to you, and seemingly even deeper.

"you love me?"

"yeah... yes... I love you so much, baby.."

eren let go of your ankle, pushing your leg off of his shoulder, and pressed down on your stomach, fucking you harder than before.

"oh... oh my.." you felt your legs start to shake, and you tightened around him.

your whole body twitched, and you arched your back, feeling erens warmth full you up.

he groaned one more time, pulling out and letting the rest of his cum hit your stomach. he kept his thumb in your still throbbing entrance to keep his cum from dripping on the bed.

you laid there, panting as he leaned off the bed, grabbing his shirt from the floor and cleaning you up with it.

he fixed his pants, and you reached over to grab your underwear, putting them back on.

eren laid back on the bed, waiting for you to come out of the bathroom after doing your business.

you washed your hands, cut the light off and shut the door, making your way back over to eren, who was obviously still shirtless, and looking at you.

you crawled on top of him and grabbed his face, kissing him softly.

his hands slid down inside your underwear, moving your body against his.

"we gotta be closer." he said quietly. reaching and pulling off your tank top, only a bra showing.

he wrapped his arms back around you. his body was warm, mixing with the warmth of yours, you felt his heartbeat against your chest as you kissed him softly all over his face.

"you believe me now?" he asked, closing his eyes as you continued to kiss him.

you smiled. "I do."

[hyukascampfire]

(🍐) WANNA TOUCH? .. い葉 hard thoughts

𝓘N WHICH 𝗍𝖺𝖾𝗁𝗒𝗎𝗇’𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽. 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗮 𝗯𝗿𝗮 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆?

nerdy태현 ⊹ 𝑓 rea 19OO smut non idol ╭╯ titty fucking breast worship subby tyun

ɑ︭ : serving this one up for u @heesmiles thank u for this incredible opportunity to write subby taehyun and now i’m drooling from multiple places. this one's been in the vault for a while hehe but omfg it needed to come to life because whew!

Poor Taehyun. You’ve been prancing around his house in little to nothing more than a flimsy pair of the cutest cotton shorts and, the worst offender, that thin, buttercup yellow tank top. It moves with the plush of your curves, looks so soft against your skin. And because you’ve spent a hundred nights like this, you’re so unaware. Sprawled out over his bed, torturously comfy in his presence.

And, god, he can tell you’re not even wearing a bra. It’s got his throat dry and palms sweaty with the effort of not popping a boner over his best friend just sitting there. He feels like a true pathetic, horny weasel of a man.

“It’s so fucking hot in here, Taehyun, seriously. Do you have the heater on eighty or something?” you say, lips pouted in such a way that his melted mind does not miss. The blush dusting your cheeks, proof of the heat, doesn’t slip by him either. He’s so far gone that truth be told, there is not one inch of you that Taehyun is not currently hyper-aware of. Especially the print of your nipples against the soft cotton of your top, belying the shape of you so cruelly that Taehyun hardly has to imagine it.

Oh, and you better believe that imagine it, he has. But seeing it in live action is different than the fuzzy edges of his imagination. Here you are, his best friend, so pretty and real in the flesh. So much better, but so much worse when it’s tangible and real in front of him. “No,” he says, pushing his glasses up his nose. “But… I can check. For you.” He remembers the tent in his pants and the pillow he’s clutched over his lap for the past twenty minutes, praying to god you don’t start asking questions. “Or you can. If you wanna.”

Well, of course you start asking questions. It’s been obvious all night, and Taehyun knows you’re just unsure of how to go about asking your guy best friend why his eyes are glued to your tits and he’s obviously covering a hard-on. It’s a stifling, new situation for the both of you. “You okay, Tyun?” Your eyes drop to the ironclad curl of his fingers into the pillow. He wonders if your skin would have the same give. “Are you seriously hard right now?”

The room does suddenly feel hot… The way you giggle the words like his struggle for the last however long is funny, as if his manhood was laughable, sends his blood boiling in his veins. Shoots his cognitive function to all hell until he really is a pathetic, stumbly mess. “It… it happens,” he says. Even the waver of his voice is mortifying. He’s not convincing anybody. “For no reason sometimes. You wouldn’t understand.” Are his lips numb, or is his face just on fire?

“Huh.” You purse your lips in a way that seems like it should be in understanding, but it feels more patronization than anything. “I guess I wouldn’t. I’ve just got these.” To Taehyun’s worst dismay, you take your tits in your palms and squeeze. Feel the weight of them. Like they were nothing more than stress balls, when they’ve been the very source of his strangulating terror. If you think you’re lightening the situation up by making jokes, you are dead wrong. His soul has already left his body. “They act on their own sometimes too, I guess, though. So.”

Fuck. He is so thoroughly fucked. Is this a joke? Is this funny to you? He can’t answer that, because bare minimum, he can’t form thoughts.

“Oh my god, Taehyun,” you laugh. You look beautiful as you witness his humiliation, and he supposes that’s the worst part. You, his pretty, popular, perfect best friend, now know exactly how much of a fumbling loser he really is. “Are you okay? Your face is white.” The moment extends excruciatingly long as you connect the dots in your head. “No fucking way—have you never seen boobs before?”

“Wha… I? Yes I have?” he says. His knuckles creak at the force with which he holds that damned pillow to his hips. For what reason? You’re already keenly aware of his shame if that sparkle in your eye says anything. “I’ve seen tits before. Jesus,” he tries again. He should just stop talking, really. For both of your sakes. “And don’t say it like that.”

The moment lingers. He debates running to the bathroom for some sort of escape. And then you drive the stake in his chest and finish the job. “On Pornhub?” you say, tilting your head in a cheeky way that suggests you’re playing with him like a cat would nudge at a mouse it pitied more than the rest. Like it wasn’t even worth digging its teeth into it. Like a charity case, you furrow your brows and take the hem of your cute little floral sleep set and hit him with, “Do you wanna see some? Real ones?” Or, rather, like you’re just performing some civic duty. Giving handouts to the poor loser who’s never seen a pair of tits. The worst part is the way his cock twitches at the prospect. He is exactly what you think he is: a hopeless virgin ogling his best friend.

His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. Should he say no? Save himself some dignity?

Breathing a laugh, you tug your top up and over your chest. The sight sucks the air from his lungs. The yellow, rucked all the way up, frames it perfectly. He watches as your nipples tighten and how it makes you shudder, the shape of them branded into the back of his skull. “Holy shit,” he says, mouth moving faster than he can realize how embarrassing that is. “You can’t just—do that.”

For the second time, you just laugh at him. Your cheeks are dusted a delectable pink, your back arched to show them off better for him. It’s unreal. A thing only of his most depraved fantasies, and it’s playing out in blisteringly real time right in front of him. “You should see your face right now,” you say, shifting. Your skin, so plump and grabbable, moves softly with it. So does your chest. He’s not sure he’s even breathing at this point. “You’re blushing so hard. Your ears are red. It’s cute.” Circling your fingers around his wrist, you say, “You wanna touch?”

The weight of them—the soft give of your skin, how you feel more like marshmallows under his fingertips than he could’ve ever imagined, and he knows you’d taste just as sweet. It’s all got his stomach twisted right up. He abandons the pillow to roll his thumbs over the buds of your nipples, big brown eyes framed by his glasses darting up to check how you feel about it. He feels the seam where the swell meets your torso, dusts the pads of his fingers over your skin in such a way that makes your breath hitch and your chest jump. Explores with trembling need, his tongue darting out to wet his dry lips.

“They’re… pretty,” he manages. He’s had a taste now, and perhaps this version of you, skin so malleable and bed-warmed, will consume him. Will you laugh in his face if he says he wants all this and more? Always? Maybe he’s a dog on a leash, but those soft, exploring eyes of yours don’t say that. Maybe this is as fresh and nerve-wracking for you as it is him.

It’s such a captivating, soft scene, the two of them. Tentative, crossing boundaries with thundering hearts, the familiarity of the same bedroom they’d spent so many other casual nights like this together in. But tonight was so different.

“Yeah?” you say, eyes searching his own. “You’re so…” Feeling up your own chest as if to reaffirm his words to yourself, you shift. “Do you wanna fuck them?” Your voice is like sugary whipped cream in his ears. “You can.”

Well, if he wasn’t breathing before, he certainly isn’t now. He blinks. Reels. That’s… fuck, that’s different. That can’t just be explained away as some horny exploration between two close best friends. That’s his fucking dream. Mouth drying up, his heart stutters in his chest. “Can… well, I…”

Next thing he knows, he’s discovering just how giving your body is, with his length nestled snug between the valley of your breasts. Your skin is so, so warm and welcoming, your body committing to the shape of him and keeping him there just right, and you’re staring up at him with wide, smoldering eyes and curiosity that banks on him using you like this. The sight is borderline too erotic with your hair splayed over his pillows and you laid so prettily beneath him.

“Go ahead,” you encourage. Your cheeks are the color of the plumpest strawberries. “Use them. I know you want to, Taehyun. It’s okay. You’re so sweet, I know you deserve it. You’re the best friend, make yourself feel good.”

You don’t have to ask Taehyun twice. He’s slow and unsure at first, but then his tip starts kissing your lips and he’s seeing fuzzy stars. Bracing himself, he cants his hips until he’s dropping his head down with sluggish whimpers and the valley has gone sticky and slick. He slips right through now. Brown strands of damp hair fall in his eyes, pupils blown wide with the deep thrill that starts in his belly and twists up his spine. “Heeh—fuck, oh fuck,” he says through his teeth, pushing his glasses back up his nose bridge. “Gotta—on your face? Can I… cum on your face?”

“Uh-huh,” you preen, your own eyes glazed over. For a moment, a beautiful, lingering moment, he is positive that you’re just as destroyed by this as he is. That you’re not dragging him along like a thing to pity, but rather that you’re taking as much pleasure in watching him fall apart over your body as he is getting to touch it. “Don’t stop, please, Tyun. Feels so good you’re losing your mind, huh? Do you want them to be yours?”

Taehyun’s lost his mind. “Yes,” he says, choked and tight. He’s losing rhythm. “Yes, I want to… shit, I wanna… Have them…” Unable to complete a full thought, he opts for something simple and to the point. “Love you so much. Love your tits. Can I h…have you?”

You don’t get to answer him that, because he locks up and paints your face with soft white ropes abruptly as if he’d been holding it back. And truthfully, he had. He was on the cusp a few measly moments after feeling you pressed around him, but he couldn’t handle the look on your face if he had came so quickly.

Anyway, he didn’t want the moment to come and go so quickly. But now it’s gone, inevitably, and he’s staring down at his longtime crush painted in him and looking prettier than ever. He prepares himself for the awkward snap back into reality, but you don’t recoil once it comes seeping back in at the corners.

Sitting up, you brush some unruly hair from your face and wrinkle your nose with a melodic laugh. “You’re getting this off my face, Taehyun. If I break out, you’re buying me three straight weeks of coffee.”

That’s all it takes for Taehyun to know that while he may be a loser and you may be so far out of his league that it’s unfathomable that you even grace him with your attention, things may have changed today, but so much will remain the same. That’s all it takes for him to loose a shaky laugh, still basking in the throes, and shoot back a familiar, “You know I’ll buy you some, anyway.”

OO1. 【 tagging 】 . . . @lvrs-street2mmorrow , @soohashits , @f4iryfever , @arcturus444 , @linqed , @serenityism00 , @immelissaaa , @luv4cheol , @lickingan0rchid , @20-cms , @hhoneylix , @beestvng , @hyucktapes , @bewitchless , @blankliving , @yaoizee , @stormy1408 , @missychief1404 , @izzyy-stuff , @lunesdesire , @sunoolver , @cherricola-star , @xylatox , @hyunj00 , @taebatu , @caratcakemoa , @biteyoubiteme , @dawngyu , @hyunruhi , @heesmiles , @lunesdesire , @yystarz

rblgs & asks >ᴗ<

[eroslove88]

An Even Better Mother

Warnings: Breeding, noncon, kidnapping, past abuse, tying wrist, threats and signs of depression - like not wanting to eat an having to be fed

Pairing: PM! Yandere Dazai x Reader

Notes: Wrote this in a plan, sorry! It's not very good bc it's not proof read! But enjoy. :)! (I'm a sucker for domestic moments !!!)

You weren't oblivious to it, you knew about the man watching you from across the bar, the café, your campus, hell, even your job. But the reality was that you lived in a small city, and as a "glass half full" kind of person, you chose to look at the positive sides. Besides, at that time, you had bigger issues to worry about, like how you were going to pass your classes that semester or how you were going to pay for your cramped, rundown apartment that month. Besides you enjoyed the rare doting of a man, and it helps that the man in the black trench coat had a nice lean build. And maybe even a nice face.

"Maybe I'll become a pornstar" you chuckle a bit to your phone. "Oh, I'd pay!" your friend teased. "I miss you babesss! Come home the kids miss you" you roll your eyes, "Paws and Riffords will be just fineee" you respond grabbing your bag, "Besides, I can't go back, I haven't even finished this semester" you sigh out. You waited for a reply, but one long pause later prompted you to look at your screen and to your dismay it's dead. Your grumble a bit before locking up the store. "During my late shift too, fuck my life" you whisper.

"Excuse me." a man says from behind you. "Sorry, we're closed." you don't even bother to turn around as you lock the main doors, "We open again tomorrow at 5 am-" you turn and find yourself faced to face with him. Now that he's up close you can really see how beautiful his face is, brown hair drooping a bit over his forehead and piercing- almost dead- brown eyes. Nevertheless, his facial harmony was quite gorgeous.

You want to say something, but you find yourself opening your mouth and nothing coming out.

He chuckles a bit, making you giggle, "I'm sorry, I'm not really here for your store hours."

You clear your throat, "Oh... Then-" you awkwardly smile and look to the side. You always kind of hoped he'd talk to you, and to be honest you sort of just thought he was shy, just like you. You, oblivious? No! Naive though...

"I was hoping I could walk you to the station and maybe treat you to a drink" he interrupts.

It was unfortunate that you physically felt your face brighten and eyes widen, "R-right now? " you ask sort of looking down at your uniform, given that it was just black on black- a turtleneck and slacks.

"I can come again if tonight isn't any good"

It had been a hot... couple of years since someone had asked you out so your face dropped a bit and your mouth twitched a bit downward. "N-no," you waved your hands to reaffirm him before you quickly dropped them when your mind told you to 'stop embarrassing yourself'. "Tonight is just fine. But, aren't most places closed? it's 12"

"I know a great place, it's not far from here. "He extends his hand out, and for a moment your heart skips a beat and you reach out to grab his, but this is only when you notice the bandages on his palm. You hesitate a bit as you scan his body. No, something wasn't right. His arms and neck are both wrapped with bandages.

'Who am I to judge' you think before awkwardly chuckling and grabbing his hand," If you say so!"You can't really remember anything after that, maybe the walk- but not much about what was discussed- oh, and arriving to a warmly lit bar before complete darkness.

You woke up gasping from air, must have been a bad dream. You turn to grab your phone off the nightstand, only to find that there is no night stand. In fact, your not even on a bed, just a mattress on a cold concrete floor...

"No no no" you repeat several times sitting up and grabbing the thick metal clasp around your ankle. Your vision is blurred with tears as you look down at your body and find that you're in some thin tank top and in shorts, and no longer in your uniform. "Fuck fuck fuck" your voice cracks a bit looking around the blurry room for something to explain what was going on. Floor boards creakng managed to get your attention, you whip your head around and try to make out the dark figure, "D-Dazai..." your voice cracks a bit as you whisper his name.

"I was beginning to get a bit worried." he says as he enters the dimly lit area his black coat shifting making a crinkle noise.

Before you could say anything that would make you appear even a bit brave, you breakdown into sobs and please, "Pl-please Idon'thaveanymoney I'monlyincollegeandI-I'mbarely makingendsmeet-" he raises a hand up and chuckles, "I know that." he approaches you making you shift your bodyaway from him. "You know when I first saw you, I just thought about how beautiful of a wife you'd be" you keep your eyes down at his hand, the one which he rests his weight on as he leans a bit closer toward you. "But then, I saw you struggle. I figured, I could give you a better life here than the one you have out there" you sniffle as you swallow the lump in your throat.

"Please... I just w-want to go home" you wipe the tears away from your eyes. You can hear him sigh and he stands himself up, "I'll be home in a few hours, the chain should reach the bathroom-"

"No, wait."

He turns to look at your pitiful face, "I'll be back""No! Y-you can't just leave me here!" you yell as he made his way up the stairs.

That evening he got home and sat on the mattress next to you with takeout in hand, his face seemed all too happy for someone who just kidnapped someone.

"Eat up, hun! I know this is your favorite" he places the white box next to you and he takes out another one placing it on his lap. Although he was right, you weren't in the mood to eat anything, especially anything from him. "I'm okay... " you whisper looking down at the plate.

You can hear him sigh and set his plate down. He gets in front of you and forces you to look at his face, "You need to eat." he says his face lost of any emotion. You look away from his stare before his grip tightens, "Hunny... You need to look at me when I'm talking to you. " you bite your lip before looking up at him. "I said you need to eat" he smiles with a bit of warmth. You swallow thick, "I-I'm not hungry" you whisper.

"I'm not asking you to eat. " he states kneeling down in front of you and grabbing your hand. You grunt as you try to pull it away, but he's surprisingly strong, "Now, what's the point of having a functioning hand if you're not going to use it"

"W-what are y-" he cuts you off, "So tell me hun, which finger make you learn your lesson." your heart rate quickens, "Ah, stop! Dazai-" he grabs your index and thumb, "Or maybe I'll go for two"

That was some time ago. Now you're upstairs looking down at the boil pot of potatoes as the rice cooker's timer goes off. The chain doesn't let you go very fast, but at least now it's upstairs. Sure, it lacks windows and your chain doesn't reach the front door, but at least now your not in that cold basement.

With a spoon you begin to cut uneven slices of potatoes- yes, a spoon not a knife after the incident that got your left hand broken. You squish the potatoes with a cup and add seasoning to your liking. You don't even notice him approaching you from behind until he crashes into you, holding you tightly and burying his face into the crook of your neck. Your startled of course and you almost just want to push him away, but the 7 weeks of recovering from a broken ankle really taught you that fighting him wasn't the best idea.

"I..." you cleared your throat a bit, "The house is mopped and swept, the laundry is folded and dinner is almost ready." you say as you continue to mix the pepper in. He grabs your hand and lifts it up to his face before kissing it, it makes your cringe. "Thank you, hun" you try to smile lightly, but your give him an awkward teary eyed smile.

Dinner is usually quite on your end, it's not like there's much to talk about and old habits die hard so you find yourself looking down at your plate mostly. "It's really good" his voice breaks the silence, "I'm glad you like it..." you whisper playing with your food. "Open wide" when you look up his bandaged hand held a spoon full of mashed potatoes and a piece of chicken.

You oblige and eat it.

Usually when he's done eating he stays behind to make sure you eat, not always, but sometimes. Tonight was one of those nights. When he gets impatient he grabs the utensils and feeds you himself. Tonight was on of those nights.

When he as done feeding you he grabbed the plates and brought them to the sink, you followed after him and began washing them, and he joined you. In silence you washed, and he dried the plates. He had never done this before, but you wouldn't dare question him. You couldn't help but think about what a nice domestic moment this would be if he hadn't...

"Come here, hun" he grabbed your hand and led you to the living room. He turns it onto some channel with a comedy playing before quickly getting up, "I'll be back" he kisses your head before leaving the room. Usually, you're not allowed to watch TV, but tonight was different. You can hear rummaging in the fridge, so you turn around, "Nuh uh hun, no peaking!" he shouts back. Quickly you turn around and look back at the screen. "Close your eyes, hun!" so you do and you silently grab your knees with anticipation.

"Okay, now open them." so you do.

A drink, no not just any drink, "A frappe?" you ask turning your head towards him. "It's been a while since you had a sweet treat, right?" you nod and grab it from his hand. It had been a while since you last drank an overly sweet caffeinated drink, hell, it's been months- maybe years even. Especially since you moved to Japan andstartes running low on funds.

"Thank you" you smile slightly before you began drinking it.

He lays a blanket over your shoulder before sitting next to you and holding you, tightly. Sure it bothers you, but you've learned to let the small things go.

When the movie ends you sigh, and silently dread going to bed. You begin to shrug the blanket of your shoulders before Dazai brings it back around you and carries you to the bedroom, now this was new.

'Is he trying to get on my good side?" you thought looking down at the carpet hall. He dropped you onto the bed making you bounce a bit. Quickly, he began to undo his tie with his hand while the other began to unbutton his collared shirt. "Osamu... " you say pushing yourself away from the edge he was undressing himself at.

"You've been so good for me, hun" he whispers grabbing your ankle and pulling you toward him.

Your eyes began to tear up, you feared he'd do this eventually. "No- NO! "you yell attempting to kick his lean body away. "Please, I've been good- so good! " you sob out, "I don't- I don't want to" he pins your legs down making you resort to using hands- mind you one is semi healed.

He begins to tear your shirt off, and you thrashing and grunt yelling for help in hopes that someone out there will hear you. He shushes you and slides himself onto your legs, caging them. You try to grab at his hair and scratch his face with your nails, but he's unfazed. Instead, he grabs your left hand and begins to squeeze his, hard. You shriek and focus your attention on getting him to let go.

Pinning both hands down he comes up to your red, tear stained face, "I've been patient" he kisses your mouth as you shook your head in an attempt to get him off.

You gasp for air as he let's your lips go, "You're such a good wife, I kept thinking about what an even better mother you'd be" he lays his head sideways on your bare chest to listen to your heart beat as you pleaded him to stop.

He looks up at you with a warm smile and with his tie he quickly binds both wrists together at the top of the head board.

"I'll make this enjoyable for you" he whispers as you tried to kick him away while he stripped your bottom half.

Your pleading fell deaf to his ears while his eyes scanned your practically nude body. His hands grabbed your hips as he kissed your pelvis and began going up, smothering the median section of your body with wet kisses. His hands slide towards your inner thighs and trace your entrance. You let a heavy breath out as you toss your head back and grip the silk fabric binding your wrists together. His middle and ring slowly enter your warmth while his mouth suckles on your neck. His thumb rubs circles around your clothes, you grunt when he bites into the column of your neck. Squirming, you attempt close your legs before his playful bites turn to violent chomps, "Don't." he orders, muffled by your skin. His fingers thrusted in and out slowly, increasingly drenching his fingers as they slowly glided in and out. "Let's see how many times I can make you come before I finish" he chuckles a bit as you whimper, he watches your stomach twitch as it tightens. Your toes curl, and his lips suck in your nipple and playfully grazes his teeth against the nub. "O-Osamu, please" your head tossed back you groan in a weak attempt to get him to stop. "It feels good, doesn't it?" he whispers, "You want this don't you?" you open your mouth but he cuts you off, "since you first saw me, you wanted me to fuck you so hard you come on my cock before I fuck a baby into you" you shake your head and the force in his fingers increase, curving them inward. You moan arching your back before coming on his fingers, but he doesn't stop. "So sensitive." he mumbles against your skin as your pussy twitches with each thrusts, "Who out there would take care of you like I do?" he grabs your face- now tear and sweat stained red with embarrassment- your chest in rising and falling heavily as he fucks your whole with his lengthy fingers, "Nobody, honey" you groan and come hard on his fingers. He watches as your Facebook contorts with pleasure never once blinking as you shut your eyes and groan with delight.

He brings his fingers up and licks them before smashing his lips against your. You squeal with disgust making him chuckle against your lips, his hands undoing his belt. When he's finally done, you're gasping for air. His hands grabs your hips as he aligns his tip with your gaping entrance. Whimpering, you close your eyes, "please" you plead out or breath.

The bed shifts as he tilts your body so he can plunge his cock in, which is what he does. With a heavy breath he glides in with a lewd squish, you toss your head back and sob with your mouth open as he begins to thrust in and out of your sopping hole. His width and length foreign to your pussy. You grip as harshly as you can to the bindings on your wrists to release tension. Your body shakes a bit with each thrust, his brown eye watching every little bounce of your tits and fat. The worst part was, it felt so good, but you couldn't stop crying. It was embarrassing, the way he moaned so proudly and how you let out broken almost bitten down moans. Both breaths in sync, the room was filled with squishing and panting as he drilled himself in to you. His cock began to twitch and his pace became much more needy as he sped up and chased his own high. He let out small, needy whimpers and short, shallow breath with each quick thrust. He held your body close as he released his seed into you, and you began to sob,but as much as he wanted to comfort you, he had bigger issues to handle. His fingers slide across your slit making your sensitive pussy twitch and shoved whatever had spilled out back in- plunging his index and middle fingers into your needy hole. You jolt and gasp at this feeling making him chuckle, "Oh~, my poor darling wants more?" he coos, "relax, it's just to ensure every drop stays in" he says like it was a fact you should've known. "After all, how else are babies made"

[emeraldserenade]

i've been thinking about jealous!joaquin but like jealous - nick jonas

Jealous and Obsessed ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: Joaquín can't handle seeing a stranger flirting with you

tw: fem!reader, jealous!Joaquín, barely edited.

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

Hi!! How I've never written jealous!Joaquín in a Jealous b Nick Jonas way is beyond me, but I'm glad you've been thinking about it!!

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Joaquín Torres considered himself lucky, you were everything he never dared to dream about. Never dared to let himself believe that he could have, yet you keep choosing him. You've proven that you would keep choosing him every time, but he couldn't shake the feeling of jealousy. You were just being polite, he told himself. That you're only talking to the man in front of you because you're nice.

He knows what people think when they look at you too long, hell he thinks it too. You're attractive and funny, but you're also so kind and caring and people don't know that. They don't know that looking at you and they don't know that you're his just by looking at you. They don't know that you're going to turn them down the second you could, that you'll get jealous when some girl approaches Joaquín. But Joaquín does, he knows everything there is to know about you.

Joaquín downs the rest of his drink, placing the empty cup down on a passing waiter's tray. He crosses the room, his chin held high and his chest puffed up. He knows you're doing fine on your own, but he couldn't stand it anymore. The longer he watched you talk with the stranger the more the edges of his vision blurred red. "Hey, querida," Joaquín said, planting a kiss to your temple. querida = darling

"Hey, baby," you smiled at him, your red painted lips drawing his attention.

"I'll leave you two alone," the man excused himself and you gave him a smile with a small wave to be polite.

"You're obsessed, you know that?" You turned to fully face Joaquín and wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands landed on your waist like they belonged there, mainly because they did.

"Can you blame me?" He smirked down at you.

"I guess not," you sighed, fake annoyed. "Want to get out of here? We can go home and watch that movie you were talking about," you offered, watching him think it over. Joaquín's lips curled into a softer smile before kissing you, it was soft and sweet and over way too soon. You giggled lightly when you saw the red smeared on his lips but he didn't move to wipe it off.

"Yeah, let's go home," Joaquín said, giving you one last kiss.

"If you're nice, I'll even let you remove my dress for me," you whispered against his lips before pulling away. You didn't make it far before Joaquín pulled you back to him and kissing you, just a little deeper and more desperate this time.

"I'll be so nice," he promised before leading you out of the party, not bothering to say a proper bye to Sam on the way out.

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Masterlist | Requests If you want to be added to the tag list, follow the directions on my masterlist

[mooningningg]

JJK Rock Band when you're being shipped with another member.

ᴊᴊᴋ ʀᴏᴄᴋ ʙᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

Notes, lovely anon for requesting this.

★ Drummer!Sukuna, being shipped with Toji.

Sukuna is drinking his coffee when Gojo says it.

"Yo, did you see that post? ‘Toji x that girl who’s always with them’? That’s literally you and your girl."

Sukuna stares at him.

"The fuck did you just say?"

"It had like 60k likes. They said Toji looked at her like she was his whole world."

Sukuna doesn’t blink. Just turns his head and starts glaring at Toji mid-soundcheck.

Toji, blinking: "What?"

Sukuna gave him a dead glare, "Why’re you making eye contact with my girl?"

Toji furrows his brows, "Bro. She said hi."

Sukuna won’t speak to you for like an hour. Just scoffs and slams the kick pedal louder than usual every time he sees your name trending next to Toji’s.

Eventually, you catch him sulking in the van.

"Are you seriously mad about internet comments?"

"They said you’d have prettier kids with Toji."

You climb onto his lap and kiss his jaw. "They’re wrong."

Sukuna grumbles, wrapping his arms around you like a seatbelt. "Damn right they are."

★ Vocalist!Gojo, being shipped with Choso.

Gojo’s mid-hair routine when he opens Twitter and sees:

"that soft girl who follows Gojo around all the time and choso? soulmates. i said what i said."

He freezes, holding the flat iron in one hand.

Satoru exclaims, "I’m gonna be sick."

Suguru turns to look at him, "You okay?"

"No. They’re giving my girl to the goth piano man."

He spends the whole day pouting.

At practice, he refuses to sing Choso’s harmonies properly. He sings them off-key on purpose.

Choso looks at him, eyes half lidded, "...Did I do something?"

"Nothing. Just stole my life partner, but whatever."

Later, you bring Gojo a drink, and he won’t even look at you.

You finally bring it up, "You're being weird."

Gojo replies, "Do you think he'd write you poems?"

"I literally bring you snacks and chapstick daily."

He softens. "You're right. I'm the total package."

Then he snaps a selfie with you and captions it: “me and the girl you can’t have 🧃❤️”

★ Guitarist!Suguru, being shipped with Gojo.

He finds the edit while scrolling late at night. It’s a clip of Gojo tossing you his sunglasses and you putting them on while laughing.

“Gojo x her is the sunshine duo we DESERVE.”

Suguru just stares at the screen, expression unreadable.

Next morning, he sends it to Gojo with no context.

Gojo: "LMAO do they know she falls asleep on your chest?"

Suguru: "Apparently not."

That night, Suguru brings you coffee, sets it down gently, then murmurs, "Don’t wear his sunglasses again."

You blink. "Wait, is this about that video?"

He doesn't answer. Just lifts your chin and kisses you.

A minute later he posts a blurry photo of your hands intertwined on his story with the caption:

“sunshine? she’s always been mine.”

Gojo reposts it and adds: “don’t be jealous I’m prettier 💋”

Suguru blocks him for 24 hours.

★ Bassist!Toji, being shipped with Suguru.

Toji doesn't do Twitter. But he does hear about it from Gojo, who will never let it go.

"They said Suguru and your girl give off forbidden lovers energy."

Toji raises an eyebrow. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means people think she should’ve chosen him instead."

Toji looks across the room where you're laughing at something Suguru said.

He walks over. Picks up your bag.

"We’re leaving."

You blink. "Wait, what? We just got here."

"Too much forbidden love in this room. Come on."

Later that night, he gives you his hoodie and tugs you close while you're brushing your teeth.

"You like his hair or something?"

"You’re the one I fall asleep next to."

He grunts. Satisfied.

Next gig, he wears a shirt that says: “she’s with the bassist. stay mad.”

He doesn’t say a word about it.

★ Keyboardist!Choso, being shipped with Sukuna.

Choso finds a clip of Sukuna teasing you and you throwing a napkin at him. Someone zoomed in on Sukuna smirking and wrote:

“why does sukuna lowkey flirt with her like they’re already married 😭”

Choso stares at it.

Closes his phone.

Later, Sukuna throws a drumstick toward your chair at rehearsal and grins when you roll your eyes.

Choso is silent the entire practice.

Afterward, you ask, "Are you mad?"

He shakes his head. "Just… quiet today."

Then adds, "Do you think he’s hotter?"

You almost choke. "Are you serious?"

Choso shrugs. "I wear all black. He wears no sleeves."

You wrap your arms around his neck.

"He’s loud. You’re home."

That night, he posts a quiet video of you leaning against his shoulder in the green room, captioned:

“not loud, not flashy, still hers.”

[corroded-hellfire]

Hello🥹 I’m new to your blog and I’m loving the AYW series. I honestly got hooked on the Ryan’s Birthday party one shot, could I maybe request a follow-up to Steve’s and Eddie’s conversation of “you should be fucking the babysitter”? maybe Eddie accidentally bumping his head against the car he was working on and coming out and sharing a beer with Steve starting with “no man, no way”, and then sharing feelings about his relationship with Brittany and with her? Maybe confessing he has somewhat of a crush on her? And then coming home to find her after that conversation with Steve? Maybe Steve is the one who drops him home and comes inside the house for a bit? Haha sorry if it is too specific 🥹💖 I’m really loving the series

It was time for some more of this dynamic duo. This picks up right at the end of Ryan's Birthday

Words: 1.5k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“So, uh, question for you. Are you fucking the babysitter? Because between you and me? You should be.”

Eddie’s head bumps against the hood of the car he had just begun to work on again. His throat goes dry, words failing him as he stares into the face of his best friend. “What?” he finally rasps out. “W-Why would you ask that?”

Steve can’t help but roll his eyes. Munson can’t act for shit and Steve wonders how he never noticed the man’s crush on the younger woman before. 

“Oh, cut the bullshit, it’s me,” Steve says. 

The bangs and whirs of the garage around them suddenly seem too quiet to Eddie, like everyone in the building will hear anything he says out loud. But what is he going to say? He’s never uttered a word about his feelings for you out loud. The guilt already ate at him that he had these feelings at all. It was hard enough to admit how he feels about you to himself, he isn’t sure how to vocalize it, even if it is to his best friend.

“I, uh…” Eddie clears his throat and takes the grease-soaked rag off his shoulder just to have something to do with his hands. 

“Dude,” Steve says. “Do you think I’m going to tell anyone? What, I’m gonna go to Brittany? I hate talking to her about anything at all; I’d never voluntarily do it. Just spill it, I already know.”

“H-How?” It’s the only word Eddie’s able to utter.

Steve huffs a laugh, amazed by his friend’s obliviousness. 

“You weren’t subtle. I mean, maybe to someone who doesn’t know you. But I was there back in those days when you fell in love with Brittany. Shit, you look at the babysitter with way more love than you ever did her. I thought I’d see little cartoon hearts in your eyes.”

Heat blooms in Eddie’s face, both in embarrassment and nervousness. His eyes shift from left to right, his mind running all over the map. If Steve noticed, who else did? Wayne did give him a look at the end of Ryan’s party the other day. Of course the old man knows, he knows Eddie better than anyone. 

Wait, if Steve clocked this, did Nancy? Oh God, she must think he’s the worst. Having these thoughts and feelings about a woman who isn’t his wife. A woman who is so much younger than him. Did Max notice? Did Lucas? Did you?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, chill the hell out,” Steve says, waving a hand in front of his friend. “Stop that brain from going into panic mode.” “Do you think anyone else–”

“No,” Steve says before Eddie can finish his question. “I started to look out for it once I noticed. Then it was painfully obvious. You look like a God damn puppy when she smiles at you.”

An involuntary goofy smile grows on Eddie’s face, and it’s all the confirmation Steve needs—though he really didn’t need any at all. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re really gone for her.”

Eddie looks around to make sure there’s no one close enough to hear his words. The last thing he needs is someone else learning about his shameful secret. “I really fucking am,” Eddie says. “Shit, I feel like I’m going crazy.”

Steve huffs a small laugh and shakes his head. 

“She’s a good kid. Oop, sorry. I’ll choose my words more carefully.”

Steve winces when Eddie glares at him.

“She’s not a kid,” Eddie states.

“How old is she?”

“Twenty.”

Steve considers for a moment, and Eddie takes in every little minute detail of the expressions on his face. 

“Holy shit, calm down, will you? I’m not judging you. Or her. I mean, Jesus, do you remember what I was like in high school?”

“Unfortunately.”

“I have no room to judge anyone. And besides, it’s not even that big of an age gap.”

“Twelve years,” Eddie says with a shrug. “And it’s not like she’s a teenager.”

“Yeah, I don’t know why, but something about that would make it seem weird. Never mind the difference is only a few months.”

“You’re not helping,” Eddie grits out.

Steve waves his hand in the air in a dismissive manner.

“I already said I’m not judging, damn. She seems pretty mature for her age, too.”

“She is.”

The smile on Eddie’s face warms Steve’s heart—not that he’d ever tell him that. But he’s watched his best friend deal with a shitty marriage for almost a decade now. The light in his eyes went out around the time Ryan was born, and Steve hasn’t seen it since. So Steve doesn’t care if this woman was eighteen or eighty, she made Eddie happy, and that’s something Steve worried he’d never see again.

“But you’re not fucking?” Steve asks just to clarify.

“No,” Eddie says, both of them picking up on the disappointment in his tone.

“Would you leave Brittany for her?”

And there it is. The question Eddie’s pondered on those nights when sleep just won’t find him and he’s staring at the ceiling fan spinning round. It’s all so much more complicated than just that simple question. But if Eddie can’t even come up with an answer to this, how would he be able to figure any of the other shit out? Thoughts of his sons and everything that would put them through go through his head, and he can’t bring himself to say he’d willingly inflict that kind of pain on them. 

“I don’t know.”

Eddie’s voice is quiet, uncertain.

“Would you cheat on Brittany with her?”

This is another question that’s swirled around in Eddie’s head. One that’s much easier to answer, in his opinion.

“After she’s been cheating on me for more than half of our relationship? Hell yes.”

“You’d feel guilty, though.”

It’s not a question; Steve knows him.

Eddie sighs and throws the rag over his shoulder again. He kicks his scuffed boots against the floor of the garage and rests his hands on the open hood of the car.

“I think I’d get over it.”

“Oh, I know you would,” Steve says with a knowing smirk. “The minute you find out that she has feelings for you, too? Shit, you’re going to forget you even have a wife. And that’s not necessarily bad with you, honestly. Because in a lot of ways, you don’t have a wife. She’s not been a real partner for how long?”

Eddie scoffs. “Ever?”

Steve snorts a laugh in agreement. 

“Man, I’m not telling you what to do…”

“But you are,” Eddie says with a smirk.

“Maybe,” Steve says with a shrug. “But go for it with the babysitter, yeah?”

Eddie sighs and shakes his head as he looks down into the engine bay of the car he’s supposed to be working on.

“You say that like she’ll want me.”

“Feel it out,” Steve suggests. “That’s what flirting is for, no? Not like you’re not already doing that.”

“What?” Eddie looks up at his friend in confusion.

Steve can’t help but let out a breathy chuckle and roll his eyes at how utterly oblivious his friend is.

“You’re shitting me, right? When you threw her in the pool?” Steve raises his eyebrows. When Eddie just continues to look confused, Steve rubs at his brow. “Wow. The way you held her and looked at her? You practically eye-fucked her.” 

Eddie scoffs a laugh, and his cheeks turn red.

“What? No way.”

“Whatever man,” Steve says as he shakes his head in exasperation. “Here, just take this.”

Steve takes his hand out of his pocket and holds it out towards Eddie. The mechanic frowns in confusion and he extends his hand palm up. The foil of a condom falls against his dirty and greasy hand. Eddie’s eyes widen as he quickly shoves the small square in his pocket before someone else can see it.

“You think I don’t have these at home?” Eddie hisses.

“It’s been a minute,” Steve says, and Eddie doesn’t know if he’s kidding or not. “They’re probably expired.”

Eddie groans as he drops his head back. 

“God, you might be right. They’re probably older than Luke.”

Steve would laugh if he didn’t think Eddie was serious. 

“Better toss those so you don’t accidentally use one. The last thing you need is to knock up the babysitter.”

Instead of automatically agreeing like Steve assumed he would, Eddie chokes on his own saliva and avoids Steve’s eyes. He gets weirdly quiet before he sputters something about having to get back to work. The red face is enough of a clue for Steve, though; a clue he never wanted nor asked for.

“Alright,” Steve says with a nauseated expression on his face. “That’s a conversation for another day. After, like, five drinks.”

[andy-15-07]

okay so a joel miller x reader where joel saves reader before jackson. and after they are in jackson joel forgets reader or smt. like she doesnt come down to eat anymore etc, but the reason why she doesnt come down anymore is because she just completely lost it because she is not used to community. then at one point she asks tommy for another house for her one and somehow joel and reader talk and she first gets mad but then she calms down :)) thank youu

Too Many Walls

PAIRING:Joel Miller x reader

WORD COUNT: 1197| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist | Pedro Pascal Masterlist II

You remembered the snow the most.

It had dusted Joel’s hair as he tore through the blizzard to get to you, blood blooming through his sleeve, dragging you from a house half-burned and surrounded by infected. You remembered the fire in his voice when he found you. His hands,rough, bleeding,cupping your face like you were something worth saving.

Now, in Jackson, there was no snow. Just silence.

You hadn’t been downstairs in three days. The warm halls of the house you and Joel had been given felt too wide. The windows too clear. People walked by every morning and waved through them. You always ducked. The idea of breakfast with strangers made your skin itch.

The first week, Joel had stayed close. Then, slowly, he’d stopped asking if you were coming to the dining hall. He'd leave in the morning, come back in the evening, sometimes with Tommy, sometimes alone. He always asked if you were okay. You always lied.

Today, you knocked on Tommy’s door.

He blinked at you in surprise. “Y/N?”

“I need a new place.”

“What?”

“A house,” you said. “A smaller one. By the fence. Or even something unfinished. I just… I can’t stay there anymore.”

Tommy scratched the back of his neck. “Did something happen with Joel?”

You looked away. “He doesn’t even notice I’m not there.”

Tommy sighed. “He does. He’s just... Joel. He thinks giving space is helping.”

“Space is one thing,” you muttered. “But I feel like a ghost.”

He nodded slowly. “Alright. I’ll check the west side,there’s a little place near the barn no one’s taken yet.”

“Thanks, Tommy.”

“Don’t disappear, though,” he said softly. “You’re not invisible. You know that, right?”

You didn’t answer.

Joel noticed when the mugs stopped appearing in the sink.

She hadn’t come downstairs for coffee.

She always made coffee.

Even during the chaos of the first few weeks in Jackson, she’d cling to that ritual,her hands shaking, sometimes crying quietly as the kettle boiled. But it gave her something. And it gave him something too.

He waited until dusk to knock on her bedroom door.

“Y/N?”

No response.

He leaned closer. “You hungry? I can bring somethin’ from the hall.”

Still nothing. Just silence, and maybe the faint creak of the floor as she turned away.

The next morning, she was gone.

Tommy found him in the stables.

Joel was brushing down a mare when Tommy leaned against the post and said, “Y/N moved out.”

Joel froze. “What?”

“She came to me yesterday. Said she needed her own place. Said she couldn’t stay with you anymore.”

He blinked at the horse’s side. “Why the hell didn’t she say anything to me?”

“She tried, man. Not directly, but… Joel, she’s drowning. This place, it’s... a lot.”

“She’s the one who said she wanted to be safe.”

“Yeah. Safe, not suffocated. You ever think maybe she doesn’t know how to be okay in a place like this?”

Joel’s jaw clenched.

Tommy crossed his arms. “You’ve been quiet lately too. You ain’t talkin’ to her. She thought you stopped caring.”

“I was givin’ her time,”

“Well, it didn’t help. Go talk to her, Joel.”

The house Tommy gave her was half-finished,bare walls and creaky floorboards, but no big windows. No people walking by. No hallway that echoed with every step.

Y/N was unpacking her small bag when a knock hit the frame. The door wasn’t even fully hung yet, just tilted on its hinges.

She turned, and there he was.

Joel. Hands in his coat pockets. Frown in place.

“Nice place,” he muttered.

She straightened slowly, her face unreadable. “Did Tommy send you?”

“No,” Joel said. “I came because I saw the kitchen and realized you weren’t there. Again.”

Her lips thinned. “Took you long enough.”

“Don’t do that.”

“What? Tell the truth?” she snapped.

Joel’s shoulders tightened. “You could’ve just said you wanted space.”

“You didn’t ask,” she said, her voice rising. “Joel, I waited for you to notice. I waited for you to say something, anything, about how I was spiraling. But you just stopped talking to me.”

He looked wounded. “I was tryin’ to give you peace.”

“Well, it felt like abandonment.”

A long silence fell.

Y/N’s eyes burned. “Do you know what it’s like to go from running for your life every damn day to waking up in a warm bed in a quiet town, and feel nothing but guilt for it? Like maybe you don’t deserve it?”

Joel swallowed. “Yeah. I know that.”

“I don’t know how to do this, Joel,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to be a person here. I freak out when someone waves at me. I panic if I hear kids laughing. I spent months expecting to die. And now…”

He stepped forward, slowly.

“You don’t gotta figure it all out at once,” he said. “And I didn’t stop carin’, alright? I thought I was helpin’. I was wrong.”

Her shoulders trembled.

“You saved me,” she murmured. “You dragged me outta hell. And then you just... faded.”

“I didn’t know how to be around you when you started pullin’ away,” Joel said, his voice cracking. “I ain’t good at this. I thought maybe you’d feel better if I wasn’t hoverin’.”

“Well, you weren’t hovering,” she said, her voice breaking now. “You just vanished.”

Joel looked down. “I’m sorry.”

She turned away, wiping at her eyes.

“You know,” she said bitterly, “when I asked Tommy for this house, I told myself it was because I needed space. But I think I just wanted to see if you’d care.”

Joel took another step forward. “And I do.”

Silence again, thick and heavy.

“You didn’t even ask where I was going,” she whispered.

“I was scared,” he said.

She blinked at him, surprised. “Of what?”

“Of sayin’ the wrong thing. Of holdin’ on too tight and pushin’ you away more.” He sighed. “I’ve lost too many people, darlin’. I thought if I gave you quiet, maybe you’d stay.”

“Well, I didn’t.”

Joel’s face twisted with something like pain.

She looked down at her bag. “I’m not ready for Jackson. Not really. But I thought maybe... maybe I could be ready with you.”

He stepped closer again, now inches from her.

“I want that,” he said softly. “I want you. Even if you’re scared. Even if you hide away sometimes. Hell, I do the same thing.”

She let out a shaky breath. “So what now?”

He hesitated. Then: “Can I stay here? With you? Not forever. Just... tonight. Maybe we can talk. Or not. Just sit. If that’s all you can do right now, that’s enough.”

Y/N stared at him.

And then her shoulders finally dropped.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “But you’re makin’ the coffee.”

Joel huffed a soft laugh. “Deal.”

That night, they sat in her unfinished living room, a mug of coffee each, two pillows on the floor, no electricity yet.

No more silence, either.

Just the sound of breathing. Of Joel quietly humming a tune under his breath. Of Y/N finally leaning her head on his shoulder.

Neither of them said the words. Not yet.

But they stayed.

And in Jackson, that was the first step.

[bullet-prooflove]

The Farm Boi Series: Virtue - Dennis Whitaker x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @cosmic-psychickitty @sargeant-sad-eyes @caffeinatedwoman @hooks-martin

Summary: Dennis's mom makes her distaste for you known.

Companion piece to:

Peppermint - The taste of peppermint will always have a special place in Dennis’s heart.

The Morgue Thing - A miscommunication between you and Dennis almost ends things before they begin.

Written In The Stars - Your first date with Dennis takes place underneath the stars.

In The Park - Dennis reveals a secret after the two of you spend the night together in the park.

Virgin - There’s a rumour going around about Dennis.

Debauched (NSFW) - Karaoke night ends a lot differently than it did the first time around.

Symphony (NSFW) - Dennis has never eaten pussy before…

Pretty Boy (NSFW) - You and Dennis take the next step in your relationship.

Firsts (NSFW) - Dennis experiances alot of firsts during your first night together.

Permanent Marker - You find out about the betting pool.

Denny’s To Do List - Dennis realises he’s in the midst of a sexual awakening.

The Porn Boom (NSFW) - Dennis isn’t like the other man you’ve been with.

Bite (NSFW) - Dennis doesn’t mean to edge you.

Wild Flowers - A crown of wildflowers leads you and Dennis to discuss the issues he has with his family.

A Friend of Denny’s - Your relationship with Dennis takes a turn when his parents come to town.

A Cold Day In Hell - Dennis tries to make amends for his actions.

Gardens of Babylon - Dennis has made his choice, now it's time for you to make yours.

My Future Wife - Dennis makes a promise to you at Jana's celebration of life event.

Dennis’s mom hates you.

It’s abundantly clear from the way her face falls when you step into the arrivals lounge alongside Dennis. The ‘Doctor Denny’ sign lowers and her eyes narrow as her gaze falls down to your entwined fingers.

The thing is you know that Dennis has told her that you were accompanying him on this trip, the evidence is standing right next to her in the form of Nana Whitty who is holding her own sign with your name written on it, decorated with hearts and sparkles.

You’ve been here a grand total of 30 seconds and already you want her to adopt you.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you Lola.” She says gathering you up into a hug that makes your bones creak. She’s a strong little thing at 5’2, clasping you to her like you’re a long lost family member. “The screen on my phone doesn’t do you justice.”

There is no such greeting from Mrs Whitaker. She embraces Dennis and ignores you completely before taking off towards the parking lot, expecting the three of you to follow. Nana Whitty rolls her eyes before linking her arm through yours and telling you about the new baby bison that’s just been born called Phyllis.

You’ve been driving through town for ten minutes when Mrs Whitaker pulls the truck over outside the Charles Wesley Motor Lodge. You can see Dennis’s confusion as he looks up at the building from the backseat. The place has an old highway motel feel and outside décor that’s not been updated since the sixties. You shudder to think about what the rooms must be like inside.

“Lola will have to stay here.” Mrs Whitaker informs the both of you. “There isn’t enough room at the house with the wedding and everything.”

“She can stay in my room-” Dennis protests but his mom is already raising her hand, cutting him off.

“I know the two of you are living in sin back in Pittsburgh but that’s not the way we conduct ourselves out here Dennis, you know that.” She rebukes him with a harshness that’s unwarranted.

“Alright.” Dennis says unfastening his seat belt. “Then I guess I’m staying here too.”

“Dennis! You are being a child. We need you at the house for the wedding prep-”

“No mom, I’m being an adult.” He responds his hand coming to rest on the door handle, gripping it so hard his knuckles turn white. “I’m making my own choices and my choice is her, you really need to come to terms with that.”

Mrs Whitaker tuts as she twists around in the front seat to face him.

“You have turned into a very rude young man Dennis.” She snaps at him. “You used to be such a good boy. Before you left Nebraska you wouldn’t have dreamed of giving up your virtue to the first pretty young thing that came along.”

It occurs to you then that Mrs Whitaker thinks you stole Dennis’s virginity. That her farm boy came to the big city and was seduced by some harlot with a nipple piercing, that likes to sing Joan Jett on karaoke nights. It must dawn on Nana Whitty too because she throws back her head and cackles like a witch as you try to hide a smile.

“I hate to break it to you Shirley but there is not a single one of your boys that remain pure. I caught Lowell in the basement at church when he was eighteen teaching Sally McNamara how to hit the high notes during choir practice. At least these two are in a committed relationship.” Nana Whitty jerks her thumb at the both of you in the back seat. “I thought you’d be a shrew about this so I’ve set up the guest room at my farmhouse. They are welcome to stay there so long as Dennis promises to fix up the shit that Charlie’s been too henpecked to do since all this wedding nonsense started.”

“I would be happy to do that Nana.” Dennis says, removing his palm from the door handle. “And thank you for being so supportive to both me and the love of my life.”

You see Mrs Whitaker rile at that, her eyebrows shoot up into her bangs before she turns off the engine of the truck, undoes her seatbelt and shoves open the driver’s side door.  

“Don’t bother coming back to the farm.” She snarls as she hops out the front seat, leaving the keys dangling in the ignition. “As long as you’re with her you aren’t welcome there.”

“Don’t worry they won’t.” Nana Whitty calls after her through the open window as she slips into the driver's seat. “I’ll host all the boys at mine instead, they’re just dying to meet their brother’s girlfriend.”

She turns the key in the ignition and the engine revs to life as you watch Mrs Whitaker storm off towards the centre of town.

“Oh man, she’s gonna put a pillow over my face while I sleep isn’t she?” You mutter as Nana Whitty skids away from the curb, directing the vehicle towards the outskirts of town.

“Yeah.” Dennis sighs, turning around in his seat to watch his mother’s retreating form. “But at least I’ll be sleeping next to you, ready to fend her off.”

Love Dennis? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[maruflix]

welcome, y/n, to the prestigious furin university! we have many clubs for you to join and a reputable student council for those looking for new friends! just watch out for the boys that are competing for your heart!

[02/12] EMERGENCY CLUB MEETING prev | masterlist | next **black background is endo’s phone

“Hey, Sakura-chan!” the aforementioned boy looks up to see his new club’s vice-president, Endo Yamato, grinning down at him. A towel is slung over his shoulder, his forehead already shining with a thin layer of sweat from the warmup from earlier.

“Your friend,” Endo exchanges a glance with a silent Takiishi Chika, “is she coming?”

Sakura blinks, then nods. “She’s on her way.”

With that, his hand trembles slightly. Although Sakura is adept to fighting, so much so that it becomes like second nature to him, fighting while being watched by his longtime crush is a different thing altogether. Even though Endo said he’ll let him win..

‘I want to do my best.’

Endo studies Sakura’s face go through several expressions with a smirk. He already knows what’s going on in Sakura’s little head. “Hey now, you’re not thinking about going all out, right?”

Sakura pauses, then looks at him.

“Hey, hey. You’ll scare off your girl like that.” Placing both hands on his hips, Endo cackles, “This is just for show, you know? For show!”

‘Oh,’ The tips of Sakura’s ears blushes red, ”R-right. We can’t get too bloody, right? It’s a club activity, after all. We’re going to scare her off.”

Satisfied with how easily he can convince the naïve freshman, Endo places a hand on Sakura’s shoulder comfortingly. “Righto! No worries, just play along.”

Sakura nods, gratefully.

In the distance, Chika watches Endo’s smirk twist menacingly, wondering what the hell that devil can be planning next. ‘Well, anyway...’ he stretches, catching glimpse of your figure at the clubroom door—

‘This is going to be fun.’

“Go get him, Sakura-kun!” Both Suo and you are cheering him on, but your voice is the only sound that continues to reverberate in Sakura’s head.

Endo casually shrugs his jacket off, then flings it to Togame who catches it with ease. As promised, Togame has his phone ready to record.

“Ready?” Chika says as the two men approach each other, “Let’s have a clean fight.”

Endo immediately strikes.

His jab hit Sakura straight in the right side of his face. Although Endo was not using his full strength, it catches Sakura off guard as he stumbles slightly.

“Sakura!”

Your panicked yell snaps Sakura out of his trance. He doesn’t know what’s happening, but he knows one thing for sure—

He’d rather die than embarrass himself in front of you.

Endo has to admit, Sakura put up a good fight. His kicks are powerful and he’s as sturdy as a rock. But he knows that his first blow has shaken Sakura greatly, and there’s no coming back from it. He will only get more tired, sloppier, as the fight drags on.

Deciding to take pity on him, Endo kicks him especially hard on the sides. Sakura stumbles, and when he’s about to stand up again, his head throbs and he falls to the ground.

“Hold it! Match’s over.” Chika calls out.

‘Wasn’t planning on landing another hit anyway.’ Endo sighs at Sakura’s crumpled figure on the ground and sneaks a glance towards the crowd, smirking when he locks eyes with you.

‘Are you seeing this? Aren’t I cool?’

Endo’s heart drops when you glare at him with the intensity of a lion before running to Sakura’s side.

“Sakura-kun! Are you okay?!”

Endo watches you lead Sakura outside, supporting him with your whole body. Suo immediately gathers his things and helps you, bidding everyone else farewell with a curt bow.

Endo turns to Togame, but the man sighs in response, already typing away on his phone. He then turns to Chika, trying to find justification, but the red-haired man merely closes his eyes and shakes his head.

‘Fuck.’

a/n: uploaded this on my phone hope the layouts dont go brr

taglist: OPEN (30/50)

@nyxypoo @ryzheling @kimura-uzuri @munchieschomp @aries-afk @choppedballoondetective @octrellue-ren22 @lunavixia @vashyuu @junephantom21 @silver-rin @bestboileeknow @baby-bread-in @paleocarcharias @yukimaniac @mo072806 @naotoramaru @perkypeony @rinren @antisocialinlw @yxruxp @kurogira @catzoup @kuromisolos @myunghology @meira-channn @cyberasterrr @amirevic @whisperer-of-tragedy @eeiternity

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←　university days!　╱　wind breaker　→

[rieamena]

“ UBI AMOR, IBI DOLOR ”

nanami kento .

contains: fluff if you're a real lover, angst if you're normal

word count: 1.6k

riea's comments: yk what's so funny guys, that really takuma work i've been talking about for the past few months or so, wypamn, yeah that one, its scrapped lmaooo lets all laugh. oh, that's not funny? oh, okay. anyways, here's something i wrote for it a while back, i hope you like it and THIS is my comeback work okay? NOT my clover. also, special shoutout to the loves of my lives, @mayyhaps and @chericos. i heart yall

you climbed into your car with a shaky exhale, hands gripping the steering wheel as if it might ground you. the engine roared to life under your touch, and you tapped in satoru’s location on the gps with more force than necessary. the route lit up in bright blue, the estimated time mocking you like it somehow knew this night was going to be an ordeal

seriously—what the hell had gotten into kento? of all the people he could’ve called, invited out, confided in… it had to be satoru? and then on top of that, he drank himself nearly unconscious? kento, who once got drunk enough to reenact one of the scenes from his series in shakespearean english, apparently decided tonight was the night to spiral. and with him of all people

the tires hummed as you sped through dimly lit city streets, traffic lights smearing into streaks of red and green through your windshield. the night air hung heavy, pressing in through the crack in your window as you took sharp turns, your mind racing faster than your car. your jaw clenched with every block. if this was some elaborate setup for satoru to make you watch a 40-minute powerpoint-slash-conspiracy video titled " nanami kento is NOT the man you think he is", you were going to walk on the road and pray a car hits you

your phone pinged with a message just as you pulled into the curb:

satoru (sent 2 mins ago):

we're at bar ten. he's been talking about u for like 30 minutes straight and it's getting EMBARRASSING. pls hurry before he recites poetry

satoru (sent just now):

update: he just called your laugh "unfairly pretty" and now he's talking to a bottle of gin

you turned off the engine, sighing again

bar ten had that kind of music that never committed to a real genre. the bass was soft, almost pretending it wasn't there, and the conversations floated over it like bubbles waiting to pop. you scanned the room and spotted them quickly—suguru sitting in a booth with satoru clinging onto him comfortably, hands running through the others hair. kento was slouched across from them with his head tipped back, glasses discarded on the table before him and eyes fixed on the ceiling like it held the correct answer to every bad decision he'd ever made

you approached slowly. suguru caught sight of you first, raising a brow and gesturing toward the table like, please deal with this

"kento?" you called softly, sliding into the seat next to him. it took a few shakes of his shoulder for him to realize someone else was there—you were there. you've only seen him get this drunk once before: a random night a few years ago. somehow the idea of a drinking competition filled the air and every bottle known to man was scattered across kento's kitchen island. little did he know, you had switched out your alcoholic beverages for water, but he was too dazed to realize. so while he drank and drank, you watched on

big, strong arms (though it seemed a considerable amount of their strength was gone) enveloped your frame, "my wife!"

it was a nickname he hadn't used since you were kids. "i want to be your husband when we're older! and you will be my wife! if you want to, of course…" a five-year-old kento said to you bashfully on a spring day at the park, weeds that he thought were flowers clenched in his outstretched fist. the name kept up for a couple of years but you never knew the reason why he stopped

"my wife is here! oh, how i've missed you." his speech was slurred, a result of downing a few bottles of whiskey, rum, and gin—it's a miracle that he's still conscious. his grip got even tighter on you as he burrowed his face into the crook of your neck, "ken?... ken? let's go home." feeling his head shift up and down and his soft breaths on your neck, you gathered all of your strength and lifted off the seat, managing to get him all the way to your car and relaxed in the front seat

by the time you pulled into your building's garage, the city had gone still. not quiet, but softer. as if everything outside had agreed to pause, just for a while. kento didn't ask which floor, didn't ask where to put his shoes, didn't hesitate before settling on the couch like it was his apartment

because it basically was. he'd been coming over since the two of you were kids—after school, after breakups, after shitty college nights where neither of you wanted to talk about what went wrong. this place had always been an anchor. and you never questioned letting him in

you poured a glass of water, eyeing him from the kitchen. "suguru's a menace," he slurred, ridding himself of his blazer and tie with a grunt. "and satoru's louder now than he was at sixteen, how is that possible?"

you cracked a smile, setting the glass on the coffee table. "i ask myself that every time i see him."

kento chuckled—a real one. then it twisted into something sadder. "they're good, though. together, i mean. they make sense. like puzzle pieces. even the jagged parts."

you sat beside him, not too close, but close enough to provide comfort—provide something. he seemed to be sobering up a little bit—after all, alcohol never stayed in his system for long. his eyes shut closed, like he was dissociating but he could feel everything: the cool air from the slightly open window, the fabric of his pants and collared shirt uncomfortably brushing against his skin like it wasn't supposed to do that, the flurry of words dedicated to you that might be impossible to string together even if given the chance, words that were accumulated over years of watching, waiting.

"i loved you before i even knew what that meant," he whispered. "i used to count how many times you said my name in a day. like an idiot."

"you remember that one summer," he continued, "when your ac broke and we just laid on the floor with popsicles all day? you were wearing that stupid tank top with the cartoon frogs."

you smiled, aching. "i remember."

"i couldn't even look at you without getting lightheaded."

he paused, "still can't."

he finally opened his eyes. they were glassy but clear enough to look right at you. right through you.

"i tried to date other people. i tried to un-feel it. but it's you. it's always been you."

you reached out, brushed your fingers against his hand. he caught them. he always did.

"i'm drunk," he said, voice cracking, "and this is unfair to you. but if i don't say it now, i never will."

the room fell silent for a while, heavy with the words spoken and those that didn't need to be. you'd thought kento had dozed off, the exhaustion and alcohol mixing,

but then softly—so softly it could've been mistaken for a sigh—he said:

"you looked too good in white."

you glanced down. his head was on your shoulder, but his eyes were open now, staring at nothing. he swallowed thickly, voice lower. "i told myself i could handle it. that it was just a shoot. just a fake wedding. but then you kissed me in that last shot—like it meant something—and i… i lost."

that shoot was for suguru's moonlight wine collection. you and kento were styled in wedding attire, with matching rings, a high-end ballroom, and a script that called for authentic intimacy. you didn't have to dig far, and it seems… neither did he.

kento pulled away slightly to sit up, rubbing his face. someone unfamiliar with him wouldn't have noticed, but you're his best friend, the one he loves. of course you noticed the slight change in his mannerisms, how he trembled, and how his khakis turned color when he stared downwards. and all it took was a comforting rub on his back to break the dam that was kento's bottled up emotions. he choked on his sobs—fighting everything possible to keep it together, to not completely break down.

"i've been in love with you for most of my life," he said hoarsely, tears streaming down his face but he never made an attempt to wipe them away. like it was his sin, his punishment, something he deserved for keeping it in for this long. "and then i had to stand under that damn arbor, with cameras on us, and look at you like you were mine… when you never were."

the memory flashed—your hand in his, his thumb tracing your knuckles between posing directions like it was muscle memory. the way his eyes never left you, even after the photographer called for a break. kento exhaled. "and i know you've got… everything. people who adore you. a world that spins with you at its center. but for one second that day, i let myself pretend."

"and then," he continued, almost laughing now, "the articles dropped. 'the most believable love story of the season,' they said. 'if you told us they were secretly together, we'd believe it.' and i thought, god, if only they knew how much i wished it were true."

kento has never experienced a first love or a first love. all he knows is a first love, and he's lost her.

for i am a fool, bound by the shackles of unrequited love.

jjk taglist

@blendingcaramal @gzchaos @theamazingrain @woah-girlz @voloslobotomyservice

@kyozvy @obessionofagrl @bubybubsters @sugurusbaobei @raindropsonrwses

@c-moon20-12 @saltynanobeanie @theamazingrain @synthiiiiis @ghostlyluminarycloud

@poopyyy @supernatrualqueen @bxrbie-jadeee @laitifly @babysoo-meu

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[pikasigh]

katsuki , katsuki , katsuki !

thinking about him way too much..

╰┈➤ afab reader implied, but no pronouns used!

──── ୨୧ ────

thinking about this man, his hands riding up your sides, looking down at you like you're his when -- technically, you're not.

his lips plunging onto yours, the way he grunts. he’s making you lose your mind. can you take it? he asked you this before the two of you even started. moments before, your answer was an obvious yes. but could you? could you take it?

his big, scarred hands were moving up your body. he was known for combat brilliance, he was ruthless. even now, when his hands insisted on finding their way under your shirt. his hands engulf the swell of your chest. you groan. he notices and smirks to himself.

how long have the two of you been doing this? you don’t even remember. you couldn’t remember anything with his hands on you like this. it wasn’t fair.

no, today was your turn to show him who was boss. 

it took one patrol together. one. ever since, the two of you have always ended your shifts tangled in some bed. whether that was a hotel, his bed, or yours. you just needed a bed by the end of it.

the blond on top of you was relentless, pushing your legs up and back. his uniform was halfway off, so was yours. bundles of leather, zipped cover ups, and boots scattered across the room. the lights were dim. the room was near quiet.

the news played in the background, softly. just humming above the sound of the bed’s occasional croak and and katsuki’s occasional groan back at you. his hands released you, one on the side of your head to steady himself and the other slid up to grip your wrist. but soon, his hand fell into yours, pushing the back of yours into the plush mattress below you.

“you looked good in your fuckin’ uniform…god..” he groaned, looking down at you. you still had bits of it on, and the way it looked was so sexy. whether it was gloves, shoes, a mask, he didn’t care. whatever was on your body still, it made him go wild.

“take it off, y/n.” 

you groan, teeth tugging at your lip as you shake your head. you make him whine. he doesn’t like whatever game you’re playing.

“y/n, im not playing around…” his voice cracks, he’s trying not to look pathetic.

you love it, you eat it up. you love the way he’s just so desperate for you. he needs this, and you know it. 

“ion wanna..” you grumble, tossing him over. the way he grunts as his back hits the bed, the way his hair falls in his face. he’s perfect.

“i want you to take that off,” you retort, pointing at the top of his uniform, still on. 

he furrows his brows. what the hell were you on about?

“the fuck you mean?”

he grumbles, but sits up anyways. it makes you shift on his lap in a way that makes his jaw clench. he throws is top off.

you almost praise him. but he’s not that kinda guy, you know? he’d probably look at you stupid for calling him a good boy.

“you want me?” you ask, settling on the tone of your voice to convey your authority.

god, he loves that. the rich tone in your voice, the way you bite your lip and look down at him.

“shuddup, you freak…come– come here..”