#also i promise im still getting around to the asks ive received IM SORRY IF UR STILL WAITING

[basketobread]

i hope i am not just some random bg3 artist to u all... but a friend <3 (and your strongest warrior pls pls pls with a cherry on top)

[bratbby333]

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ [ blog update ! ] ࿐ྂ

+ some housekeeping and info on new writing

hello my loves !! i wanted to give y'all some insight on what's been going on in my mind palace lately. there's a lot...so...cmon, take a walk w me...and maybe bring some snacks.

ੈ♡˳ first and foremost ! my work has received a lot more attention recently and i am so excited. with actual tears in my eyes, im happy to report that i surpassed 1,000 followers the other day. i am at a loss for words...just...stuck in a perma-state of disbelief.

im sending out the biggest thank you to everyone who has supported me, who's interacted with my work, to the lovely friends ive made though this account and to the heartbreakingly beautiful anime that brought me here in the first place. i am genuinely in awe...overwhelmed, even...i didn't expect any of this to happen when i started this blog and i am forever indebted to all of you for getting me here. im actively fighting off the inevitable surge of imposter syndrome as i type this out...i just love y'all so fucking much. this community means the world to me and i wanna scream at the top of my lungs in order to demonstrate my deepest appreciation for each and every one of y'all.

ੈ♡˳ secondly ! a message for my little angel babies, my day one followers; thank you for taking a chance on me. for watching me grow. for sticking around as i worked to get better at writing. im sure a lot of you started following me for my gamer!bf sukuna series...trust me, i love him and i know y'all do too. but i feel like my writing is heading in a different direction...and with a heavy heart, i'm absolutely gutted when i say that i am taking a pause on that series. i am forever grateful for the support and may return to him soon, though i cannot promise that. i owe so much of what my account is now to that series and i will never forget that.

for everyone who joined me as i delved into dark/dead dove content, thank you from the bottom of my heart for allowing me a safe space to explore different forms of story-telling. my choso fic was the first stepping stone and then i skipped every other stone on the path and jumped head first into the deep end with my dead dove gojo fic...i deeply appreciate all the positive feedback i received on both of those. after posting them, i realized that i am very into writing dark content. i know that taboo themes/dark content/dead dove subject matter isn't for everyone and i understand people's apprehension in regards to it. but with that being said, i will be moving forward with publishing darker content.

ੈ♡˳ so here's the writing update !

i did a poll asking y'all what kind of content you enjoy. a good chunk of people said long form fics (which is great, cause i do too !! mommy needs plot). so, i am migrating away from one shot writing. both because i've been thinking about it for awhile and because y'all are into longer stories, as well. but fear not, i will still write shorter stuff along with headcannons, drabbles, etc...it just won't be the main focus of my blog anymore.

ੈ♡˳ now, time for the big reveal ! perhaps it's a bit anticlimactic, but bear with me...

im so excited to announce that i have two new series coming ! it will be a dark, modern!au featuring choso (with a few other special guests) and a dead dove sukuna series.

i'm almost finished with the outlines, and have fully completed the theme layout + mood boards for both works. i hope to get the first few chapters wrapped up in the next couple weeks. if you want to be tagged in either of these (or both), just leave a comment or send me a message !

(also !! i may or may not be cooking up a dark medieval au series in collaboration with another writer on here...so be on the lookout for that hehe)

while i take breaks from writing my two series, i'll be working through my requests ! so if you've sent one in, i promise i will get to it, unless i literally cannot think of a good way to write it (im only human, im so sorry). also, im sure we already knew this, but im a slowww writer. i wish i could churn content out quick as fuck but i am too hypercritical of myself…it's both a blessing and a curse, honestly.

if you made it all the way to the end of this nightmare of a brain dump, i love you. if you've been with me for a while, i love you. if you're just now joining me, i love you. everyone who’s supported me in any way, shape, or form, i love you.

i present you with the sloppiest kiss with tongue (only if you want it, of course. i can also give you the tightest hug, the gentlest head pat, or my social security number...access to all my bank accounts? a mansion in the hills? my passport? hand in marriage? my first born child? literally whatever you want, babe).

okay !! i think that's all for the updates. feeling: very ambitious and motivated but also overwhelmed and mildly stressed but overall super excited for what's to come. im looking forward to this new adventure and i hope y'all come along with me ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

thank you again…for literally everything. yall hold a special place in my heart and always will. so, here we go !

see you on the other side, my loves.

— jade 𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪

[rabbit-is-wise]

hey man. h. hey man. hey man i hope you know what you just did. i just wrote one essay in the rbs and trust i WILL write another

so like LITERALLY YES I HAVE SEEN PEOPLE WITH MY OWN EYES TYPE THE WORDS TYLER WAS LYING IN I AM CLANCY AND POST IT ON TWITTER DOT COM AND RECEIVE AGREEMENT IN THE REPLIES. im not gonna be messy and post usernames but

out of the 12 replies under this tweet, almost every single one is in agreement. and i have to ask, like genuinely, do any of you people know how storytelling works?

and im so dead serious when i say that. i’ve talked about this to moots, ive talked about this to my irl clikkie friends, ive talked about this to my bsf who doesnt even know the story (yet), id be surprised if i havent posted about it on here yet. and i never post abt it on twt because of how prominent this theory is, and the way people talk about it, i just dont feel it would be a receptive environment. and while i absolutely acknowledge i might be wrong, that doesn’t change the fact that i feel so unwelcome (in this regard) i dont even try. a lot of people openly shit on tyler = clancy truthers, and once again i admit maybe i just don’t know where the joke line is! but regardless of intent this is definitely the outcome, because i cannot be the only one on that godforsaken app.

but my question—why in the every loving fuck would tyler lie to us? yes, he likes to make fun of us, and yes, things can be misleading before they are explained. but why would he lie. concept albums/music videos/other sporadic things are a very hard medium to tell a story through, something tyler openly stated during the clancy livestream while explaining torch’s guiding ability! so when giving us material, LITERALLY WHY WOULD HE LIE ??

sorry for shouting. but people constantly discredit tyler’s ability as a storyteller, as if he has not been writing it for over ten years. i promise he knows the story better than you. i promise. and i also promise when posting a video like this, where he brings the whole clique into the story regardless of their knowledge level, he would not lie. it would be literally balls to the walls batshit insane to do that. he isnt a 12 year old writing a fanfic making it up as he goes (as someone who was one), he is a grown man who has been writing for years and has been writing this specific story for, oh yeah, OVER TEN YEARS. YES, he said they react to us, but that’s more in the way he tells it, he’s not changing the story with how we react. he’s laying it out for us, and people are, at this point, deliberately ignoring it. that’s the only explanation i can fathom.

it goes in tandem with torch’s guiding ability. once again, i acknowledge i am not always great with determining where the jokes start and stop. but things about torch not being real, especially around bandito torch, tick me off to no end. because tyler fully said “bandito torch is real.” not only that, but voldsøy torch being a projection doesn’t mean he wasn’t real, it just means it was different. like he’s still there, and the neds/keons can see him at least, we just don’t know if anyone else can.

tyler talking abt the story and torch’s guiding btw

MOVING ON from how lore clikkie twitter gets on my nerves, though, i have thoughts on what vialism may have been! because of course i do. and courtesy content warning for discussions of death and suicide

so, vialism as a word of course comes from the fact that vial is a container. a vessel, if you will. and as the religion currently stands, committing yourself to it renders you a vessel for the bishops upon achieving glorious gone, aka your death. and as clancy says, “it teaches that self destruction is the only way to paradise.” they use this to feed their power cycle.

so now that we have those concepts established, i think vialism was not all that different in its original form. i think it was a religion meant to celebrate death, and the fact that we are all vessels for something greater. when you die, it’s a glorious gone because whatever message you were carrying has been achieved. it’s not about self destruction, it’s about moving through life with a purpose, and the joy that comes when you have finally reached the end of your journey. it’s sad, but you’re meant to move on and continue being a vessel for your message.

hold on a second! that sounds familiar! that sounds like a certain album relased in 2013, whose songs are easily connected to the story! it almost sounds like this video of tyler talking about the name vessel, even.

i don’t know why im being such a smart aleck. basically yeah i think vialism used to be a religion built around the concepts within vessel, and the bishops twisted it to mean only suicide could get you to the “glorious gone” status.

i want to draw a connection to neon gravestones, as one of the closest looks at the culture within dema we get (especially within the songs)

now you wait just a minute! doesn’t that sound like clancy asking for a healthier view of death—not lingering on it but celebrating the life and its conclusion? and you know…that reminds me of another song…another close look at dema within the music itself…

hmmm…almost like the bishops have twisted what used to be the act of honoring the life and death of a person into minimizing the life and glorifying the death, and now encourage people to ruminate on that so much they never move on with their own life…and leave the people confused and guilty when they feel the pull to continue living…

much to think about!

hi guys im back to be really fucking annoying abt lore again

upon a rewatch of the “i am clancy” video, i caught a line i think people have glossed over. when talking about the creation of sai, he specifically says “they made me entertain the people. lie to them.” and you know what the big message behind scaled and icy was? clancy is dead. he full tells us he was lying. like we already knew it was propaganda, and that the bishops were filtering everything he said, and then he outright says “i lied.” of course, this only holds merit if you believe what he says in this video (no im not bitter people think he’s lying in it. youre crazy)

also, just other thoughts—i think people are way too hung up on the tyclancy debate. besides the fact that i don’t understand why it’s still a debate at all, but the stuff he talks in this video goes so far past that.

first of all, he mentions his friends (“i can feel my friends rolling their eyes”). he has friends dude. i cant fucking get over that. he even laughs a little when he says it too. guys he has real friends besides torch. i think we moved on from that too fast. tell me more about your friends catboy

second of all and more importantly: “i am a citizen of an old city. well, they say it’s old, but there’s just no proof.” this was also hinted at in two of the fpe letters (transcriptions from ciancyisdead on twt)

and clancy also says vialism is a “hijacked religion”

WHY do we not talk about this more often. guys theyre faking a whole history within dema and manipulating a religion to keep the appearance up. we have no idea what vialism used to be before the bishops got ahold of it and began twisting it to fuel their seizing ability. the bishops’ corruption runs so much deeper than just clancy. his importance comes from his status as an exception and escapee, but like, the bishops are doing a lot outside of him. he has a personal connection that is the center of the story, as it should be, but like. there is so much more. why don’t people ever talk about vialism dude it’s so frustrating to only see the same couple of things constantly debated, especially because half of them have already been laid out, people just refuse to believe the information theyre given

okay leaving this here now bc one of my fics updated

[noturvlentine]

An encounter (pt 1)

༺ ♰ ༻

Leon Kennedy x reader series!!!!

Summary [series]- after Chris Redfield has requested for your transfer from the BSAA, you’re tasked with uncovering a chain of bio-terrorist attacks alongside Leon Kennedy. Destruction, duty and your untold past brings you spiralling into an unlikely bond with your partner, as efforts are made and promises are broken.

hi!! bear with me while I attempt to write this little series i had going on in my head for a while- it might be 5-10 parts or so but im trying to see how long this narrative goes in terms of chapter length. EVERYTHING IS A WORK IN PROGRESS!!!

i might finalise and actual title for the series later but i thought it was nice to get the first chapter out while the rest unfolds in messy notes ive been taking down. I’ll definitely put the masterlist to this series on here when ive got more parts written :)

hope this isnt too much of a confusing read and any feedback is appreciated!! Also- requests are still open!!! - j🖤

1.8k words

Part 2

༺ ♰ ༻

Washington DC

8:30AM

2009

Two days. That’s all they gave you. Two days time off from the last BSAA issued mission which had you sitting in the med bay for three consecutive nights, test after test to insure you hadn’t caught any strain of virus from getting beaten up by B.O.Ws. You’d been transferred to the USSTRATCOM before you could get comfortable in your own bed again. Chris Redfield himself had you commissioned for a good two months down at a station in South America, carrying out operations for BSAA intel which had gotten you into a whole lot of trouble by the last week, hence the man himself took in three squadrons to finish the job. And when the time came for STRATCOM to issue additional ‘more than capable’ agents, Redfield had personally put in a request for you to be transferred to a more- suited position. You’d been under his and the BSAA’s command for the past 8 years as recommended by your commanding officers from military- seeing as they’d found no other candidates as hard in the head and skilled as needed.

Now you were here, headed towards the reception of an all-too-well government agency better built then the BSAA could’ve ever wished for. Not like you had a choice anyway, Redfield wouldn’t be allowing you back into his side of the field for security reasons and well, because he was worried. You felt so- small in this large hall that would be USSTRATCOM’s lobby, your interaction with the woman at the desk echoed like a pathetic whisper.

“I’m sorry but you’re not registered here. I can look you up if you were with any other department-“

“That won’t be needed, she should be cleared.” A smile interrupted your one sided exchange with some government receptionist.

You turned to the woman who’d just claimed she had cleared you.

“Ingrid Hunnigan, I’ve been issued to your transfer.”

There was no need for an introduction, she basically had you on file. Hunnigan made her way around the desk, signalling for you to tail behind.

You wanted to ask her details on the job, how long you’d be out, when you’d be out, introduction to an F.O.S agent- nothing came out except small nods in understanding as she pointlessly flagged out the entire building as you walked through the rustling halls. You’ve grown to not care much about human interaction outside of what needed to be done.

“They didn’t brief you on anything?” She whipped her head around and stopped in her tracks.

“Not at all.”

And that was enough to receive a huff of disappointment as she redirected her route.

Oblivious to your party, a certain agent was currently flicking through your life’s record at the end of the hall, skimming over your profile and various written reports out of a Manila folder, fair in size but not large enough for a normal agent file. His eyes tracing over your documents- despite your age you were quite accomplished, issued in the military and pulled out of ranger school to transfer to the torturous trainings of the BSAA and other government parties alike. You’d even remember briefly having sessions at USSOCOM before you were on field with the BSAA, you’d come in, left a mark and went straight off to work for Chris Redfield.

As you kept walking, Hunnigan had managed to find you a copy of the mission briefing at her office before heading out to the hall again. You were handed a thick set of papers- enough to make you question how big of a job this was. Before your eyes finished with the first page, Hunnigan was three steps further down the hall.

“Leon!” She stopped in her tracks. “I thought you weren’t meant to be here until 9?”

Leon. You seen and heard of him time and time again from Redfield despite their lack of interaction with one another. That name alone made you look up from your hands, startled almost. You envied him in some way- or at least what you had heard of him. Not because he was the presidents golden boy, nor because he was everyone’s favourite toy to send after bio-terrorists. No, you simply envied his will to live and to save others- you envied that in Chris a little bit too if you were completely honest. Little did you know, he had heard a bit about you here and there too.

“Well it doesn’t hurt to arrive a bit earlier.” He turned and greeted you with a warm smile. Unusual huh. Not many people with a tragic life like his working two and two for the government had enough will power to greet anyone like that. Your lack of reciprocation made the exchange unlawfully bitter. He stood up from the bench in the hall, reaching his hand out for you to shake.

“This is agent Kennedy, I’m sure you’ve heard a bit about him from around the place. I assume Chris has familiarised you with his presence on this earth.” Hunnigan was inclined on introducing you two and before she could finish your name, he’d already repeated it back to you. He was tall, but not an intimidating height, a firm but gentle grip, roughly shaven and kind blue eyes. No one ever mentioned his look of warmth before.

“I’m sure you two will have more than enough time to know each other, and seeing as your both here why don’t we just get started.” You don’t remember her conversations with you being this light hearted, well- if you could even call them proper conversations amidst your prolonged stroll through the building.

Washington DC

Conference Room 6A

09:00AM

You were almost like some sort of loyal hound to Chris. Sure, you followed orders, got the job done but under the necessary circumstances. Not to mention- being backed up by a squad. You really never left his side despite his muddled up tactical morals, you always managed to fall under his command. This was different. The strings were coiled tighter. And there was no Redfield to suggest that he had a better idea.

You could tell by the annoyance in Leon’s otherwise-abnormally-kind eyes that he wanted to protest against the idea. He was a field agent, a rather special one but he certainly wasn’t some sort of government spy. And neither were you. Hunnigan wasnt exactly asking. In fact she had no say in approval as shes just an F.O.S agent who’s unfortunate circumstances had her picking up after Leon Kennedy.

“Leon we dont have another option” she sighed, tiredly removing her glasses and setting her hand to pinch on the bridge of her nose. “Look, if this really is a plan that’ll result in a chain of bio-terrorist attacks then we can’t be stuck in the deep end.” So- nothing but a wild goose chase into unmarked territory.

Unmarked, exactly what people look for when they want to satisfy themselves with bioterrorism. The BSAA could only ever cover so much terrain, and Chris wanted to punch himself for how easily the US stuck their fingers into his shit.

“Leon-” she sighed again, some sort of tired mother fed up with her teenage son’s lack of common sense in the world, blandly trying to explain to him basic parameters. “We wouldn’t have called if there was anyone else suitable foe the mission.” Leon huffed at the repetitiveness of the lines to follow, which earned him a less patient, more aggressive tone from Hunnigan. “You’d still be shit faced on vacation right now and /kitten/ here would still be tailing Chris Redfield like some sort if spirit animal.”

Leon shifted his gaze towards you, surprised to see no reaction from the otherwise offensive nickname Hunnigan spat out at you. You weren’t denying it, and Leon had had enough of her passive aggressiveness.

“If this all goes south, well have escorts from our nearest location pull you out of there immediately-“

Bold promise to make. You knew STRATCOM was good- but how good? Last time you heard anything about their squads was from Chris Redfield ‘warning’ his team not to fuck up because he didn’t want his XOs filling out mountains of post-operation paperwork. Cleanup was a lengthy process and he hates seeing squad kids packed in bags because of some strategical fuck up. ‘I don’t want a repeat of STRATCOM’s last mission’, he’d said for months on end, pestering kids into learning their shit and paying attention more. Redfield wasn’t in the position to lose any more soldiers- he couldn’t afford to.

You leant back on the table, hands rested over the ledge so you could scornfully and casually flick through the rest of the file laid out beside you. Leon was still standing beside you, a good distance, arms crossed staring firmly at Hunnigan, patiently awaiting her next spew of words. She sighed, deep and heavy and put her glasses back on as she sat up in her chair.

“You leave tomorrow at noon. Escort will be waiting out the back of West Wing so if you could please familiarise yourself with that area and collect your gear before then that would be great.”

That part was directed to you. West wing is on the west side of the building, but where the fuck that is you hadn’t bothered paying attention to. Hunnigan opened her mouth to say something again- but ultimately decided against the idea and instead followed her instructions with ‘any questions?’, before all of you remained in silence and she quickly dismissed you. Hunnigan, in a silent annoyance, packed up the file and left the empty conference room leaving you and Leon to wilt in each others presence.

You watched the dust particles floating around the ray of sunshine hitting the carpet, tapping your finger on the edge of the table.

“Sorry about her. I think she’s just sick of me at this point. But a job’s a job, right?”

Out of the blue, Leon uncrossed his arms and sighed in amusement. You looked up at him, phased by his forgiving attitude, sending a huff and nod in agreement. You resentfully pushed yourself off this table, informally stretching your back as you adjusted yourself.

“See you tomorrow then I guess.” You snarked, backing your way towards the door.

“No introductions?”

“You’ve read my file-“

“That file says nothing about you-“ Leon laughed. You shrugged in return as you reached the heavy wooden door to the hall.

“Nothing to know Agent Kennedy.” You mumbled, like he could barely hear it.

AN: OKAY THATS AN IDEA OF WHAT IT MIGHT BE AND I HOPE THAT WASNT TOO HORRIBLE!!! if theres anything you’d like me to know just shoot a message or send in something :)

[http-mingi]

room 657. ⤑ jjk + kth ☏︎

⟶ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 : you didn't even realise you were calling a hotline. you're best friend jimin gave you a random number. he said it was a surprise ? well you're in for one.

♡︎ 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 : sexhotline!au, worker!taehyung, worker!jungkook, student!reader

♡︎ 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 : ∝ filthy smut if you squint there’s fluff

♡︎ : 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 : sorry i fr forgot to do the word count !!

⟶ 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 : stressed reader, soft!dom jungkook, harddom!tae , big cock!tae, bigcock!jungkook, size kink??, sub!reader, pussy eating, dirty talk, face riding, hair pulling, fingering, cum eating, praise kinda?? unprotected sex, roughsex, multiple orgasms, heavy heavy dom sub themes, brat!reader , dom/sub themes, pet names, daddy!kink, threesome, dirty talk, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, begging, humiliation, creampie, intense orgasms(?), multiple orgasms, cum eating, insecurities, derogatory language, sexual face-slapping, punishments, dumbification, overstimulation, basically pwp.

let's go!

you sighed heavily as your boots clicked along the laminated floor of your university.

today so far had been a hassle. traffic kept you 2 hours late from school you were earlier fired from your job. your ex boyfriend had recently been stalking you and to top it off there was no hot water this morning.

you were beyond stressed.

most of the time you could deal with it you had thousands of stress relieving techniques. but this time you were all types of frustrated, with school, your job, sexually, friendships, family. you sighed heavily as you dragged yourself inside your classroom.

the bright walls of your university aided in your pounding headache. the distinct smell of coffee and muffins flooded your nose as you blinked slowly.

the tall dark bookcases shielding you from the sunlight as you sluggishly made your way to your seat.

you slumped down on your chair as you massaged your temples in effort to calm your self down. your headache clouded your vision immensely you hastily downed your water and some paracetamol nursing your forehead throughout.

you hadn’t been out on a real date in months. it seemed like the universe didn’t want you on dates, you rarely ever found yourself being okay with that fact.

whilst in a trance your best friend jimin walked excitedly into the classroom.

he constantly and i mean constantly reminded you off the things you were missing out on but it wasn’t like you didn’t want to go out but the issue was you were way too busy.

being an english, law and history major meant that you were constantly studying literally.

you did love him though he always tried for you.

"_____ !! " your friend jimin called out to you. you grumbled in annoyance as you turned your neck towards him.

"what." you sighed out tiredly.

" what the- what's wrong with you ______ ?!" he exclaimed loudly.

" jimin... why are you so loud. " you whine loudly.

“ shut up ___ im literally your only friend.” he said nonchalantly.

“ stopppp!” you whined with a breathy giggle.

“ anyways what are you doing here you have biology?” you asked innocently wiping your exhausted eyes.

“ uhhh... well..”

“ spit it outtt.” you say , head tilting slightly.

" sorry _____ i just- i have a number to give you and i don't call it until you get home! trust me you'll thank me later!!”

0800-765-877

it looked like a legit number so you decided to trust him this one time.

"come on ____ class ended 20 minutes ago wake up." he whined loudly.

" what.....? " you yawned as you groggily wiped your eyes.

jimin let out an exasperated sigh as he dragged you out of class and to your apartment.

" i love you but sometimes i feel like stabbing you. " he says plainly.

" sorry chim, ive just been really stressed lately. i'll make it up to you i promise."

"you can make it up to me by calling that number, it'll solve all your problems i promise."

" jimin... did you connect me to a sugar daddy or something? " you asked as you flopped down onto your sofa

" something like that." he said grinning

" okay well you can go home now . " you muttered yawning

" promise me you'll call them? "

" okay, okay now you can go. "

as jimin left you groaned into your pillow did you have to call them it wasn't really gonna change anything. but at the same time jimin would do the same for you.

your home was simple, minimalistic but you loved it your soft grey sofa in the corner. your small tv playing comfort noise in the background.

you fought your tiredness to finish your essay due for next week. you ached in places you didn't even know you had the most you were aching was down there.

you hadn't had any sexual action in weeks even months.

you decided to go up to your room to try and relive yourself.

you sighed as your hands hovered over the pulsating area.

as a finger trailed it's way up your slit you involuntarily whined as you got tired of the foreplay you plunged a finger inside your soppy cunt.

your plush walls also fighting to relish your much needed orgasm as you groaned into your pillow.

you moaned, whined, groaned and breathed heavily as you desperately tried to reach your high.

you angrily quickened your pace. you were trying so hard yet you still weren't feeling anything.

in a huff you decided to stop trying to reach your endless high.

in the corner of your eye you saw the number jimin had left you.

it wouldn't hurt to call right?

it wasn't gonna be anything weird..... right ?

you took a small breathe as your fingered trembled attempting to type in the numbers.

1 ring

2 rings

3 rings

......

" h-hello? " you whispered out meekly

" hey honey, why don't you speak up for us?" the man on the other end spoke in a deep voice

" im sorry i- i don't know what this- is r-really for?" you spoke slightly louder as you stumbled over your words

"it's a sexhotline darling? "

" i- i well oh...” you huffed out , eyes widening softly you were lost in a trance of thought.

you were suddenly put on hold.

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you gave yourself time to think.

it wouldn’t hurt right?

you were basically an adult, you felt like a teenage girl again.

so you decided.

Putting a client on hold was a part of their fun. It allows the person to wait and to draw out the anticipation. however in this case you were just confused.

you’ve been pacing back and forth inside your bedroom for minutes it was half eleven in the night , and you certainly didn’t think that your attention would be on this instead of your essay.

suddenly you heard another 'hello' erupt from the phone quickly you grabbed your device breathing heavily you gulped and mustered up your voice.

" h- hi i just want you to know that y-you can carry on I've been- struggling and i- need some just some help?" you say whispering the last part.

" you want us to help you cum bun? " another voice said this time it was lighter, kinder in a way.

“don’t make us talk to ourselves, darling.” the other man snarls.

a gasp emits from your dry lips when the tone of his voice turns firm. there was a strict, domineering tinge in his speech that made you sit still. you were too shocked to reply as your mind tried to comprehend the situation that you got yourself into.

“I-I…” you stuttered completely, wanting to smack yourself in the face. the pet names, their voices it was all over whelming you too much.

you let out a needy whine, both of the men groaned quietly into the phone.

" how old are you baby ? " baby. they called you baby.

" i-im 19? "

" fuck, will you be okay with this?" they ask to make sure

jungkook can’t help the soft growl escape his lips. It has been so rare for him to receive callers who aren’t twenty-five and above, and you might be his first time.

“Ohh, baby girl,” he bites his lip, “I think you’re the first client I’ve had who’s so young.” jungkook says to you

“ is that okay , i-im sorry- "

“Oh, its more than okay , baby. You still wanna continue? I can make you feel so…” he pauses, groaning quietly to himself, “so good.”

your pussy clenches around nothing as you felt yourself getting wetter by the second

"  yes daddy. " you say nodding to yourself. you suddenly froze as you realised the contents of your words

taehyung's eyes widen in shock, his mouth agape, certainly not expecting that sudden word to come out of your lips. He throws his head back, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he feels his dick harden.

It was so difficult for him to hold himself back because all he wanted to do was to say the dirtiest, nastiest things that he wants to do to you in your ear. but he had to slow down.

“daddy? Oh, what makes you call me that, hm? baby?”

you feel your throat go dry, your eyes wide in shock. You didn’t know what to respond without being so shocked with yourself.

" i-i just really need you please please please i need it. " you let it all out, you couldn't be bothered to hide it anymore.

“don’t be a brat kitten.“ taehyung snarled into the phone.

“ b-but daddy! please i- i need it so so bad it’s not fair!“ you whined softly as your fingers ghosted your aching, soppy cunt.

they both groaned loudly, as jungkook conversed with taehyung

" kook, fuck i need to do her in real life she's making this so hard for me."

" same here let's just go for it here she's going to make me cum in my pants." he sighed as he palmed himself to your weak whimpers.

" darling, me and tae were wondering if you wanted to do this in real life- we'd fuck you so good honey, you'd become our little cum dump id love to see your body tremble to the force of my cock. " taehyung said interrupting jungkook.

" yes.. please you said as you moaned quietly to their words

" okay bun, we'll text you where to meet us." jungkook breathed out.

the atmosphere was dripping with heavy lust your eyes shut right as you relished their deep gutural voices.

“ i can’t cum daddy please help me cum pleas-“ you begged in frustration

“oh honey, it’s okay sh- sh it’s ok ill help you just be patient okay? you can do that for me right?” jungkook said in a calm tone

" what's your name by the way."

" it's ____." you say meekly

" ____ edge yourself, fuck yourself just do not cum. "

and with that in the call ended

you sighed loudly grinning slightly, you were gonna get your brains done out by two sexy sounding men.

you smiled to yourself giddily as you finally got some sleep.

________________

the next morning you got up and did your daily routine entirely different you waxed everywhere, shaved, exfoliated, moisturised, basically every strawberry flavoured you had in your bathroom.

it was a Saturday, you had time to spare you texted jimin to meet him before you went to meet 'kook' and the other guy.

not to mention you were frustrated beyond belief you had done what they asked you to do and you half hate half love them for it.

on one hand you could cum from any suggestive touch you were given.

on the other hand you couldn't help but want to thank them you felt so ready for them.

you walked to the cafe.

the soft brown walls encompanied the mahogany floors and the cascade of plants across the room as you happily walked into the bustling cafe.

" what's got you so excited." he said grinning like the Cheshire cat

" uh nothing i just had some good sleep last night. " a lie.

" oh really? "

" yeah i even finished my essay!" not true but not false at the same time.

" wow! " jimin looked at you shocked

" jimin do you really have that little faith in me. " you say annoyed

" to be honest no. " he said chuckling

" jiminnn, well i have to be going now i have an appointment soon. " you explain pouting

" an appointment where? "

" somewhere special ? " you say in attempt to hide

" if you say so. " he uttered playfully and he watches you walk away

you stared at the building in front of you as you checked the address again and again it was a massive condo.

you rang the bell of the apartment square and dialled in the number seconds later you were buzzed in.

you took the elevator and anxiously played with your fingers you finally reached the floor you were headed to and walked into room 657 .

" h-hello i-im here it's ______ " you say confused you really made a large mistake.

suddenly turning around, you were pulled into a sloppy kiss. You immediately relaxed into it, wrapping your arms around his neck the deeper it went. Before it could go on too long, he pulled away.

Pressed between both of their bodies, you could help the way your body reacted. Your lips met Taehyung's again and you whimpered.

Jungkook took the opportunity to press his lips against your neck, skimming them over the collar now around your neck.

He hands gripped your waist, pulling your shirt up ever so slightly to touch the skin that became exposed.

Goosebumps across your skin and you gasped into Taehyung's mouth. The elder chuckled, reaching down to where Jungkook's deft fingers explored to tug up the hem of your shirt.

you gasped loudly as you tensed under their touch.

Already, you could feel your mind turning fuzzy, falling into your submissive roll to let them mold you how they wanted.

Jungkook chuckled as you lifted your arms, allowing Taehyung to pull your shirt off. Left in your bra, you couldn't help but cover your chest as vulnerability set in.

"None of that, bun," Jungkook growled softly, ripping your arms away from your chest. "You wanna be a good girl for us right? Let us take care of you?"

"Y-Yes..." You whined, whining when Taehyung leaned down pressing kisses against your chest above the seam of your bra. Gasping, you pushed your chest out to get more of the feeling.

"What a good girl," Taehyung cooed, falling to his knees in front of you.

You leaned back, using Jungkook as support to help Taehyung pull your jeans off completely. He tossed them away in a heap nearby and without wasting a second, his mouth was on your core.

The fabric of your panties put on the side, feeling his mouth on you fully but as he slid his tongue over your slit and caught your clit, you let out a soft moan.

"What a good kitten for us," Jungkook groaned, hands still cupping your breasts. He pinched your nipples, making your back arch as you cried out.

“Is that pretty pussy wet, Princess? Does your cunt ache to be filled by my cock?” jungkook coaxes

The filth of his words doesn’t surprise you, Under his teasing words, you feel yourself grow wet, your lust-filled desire mingling with the humiliation that flutters through you.

"Aw, your pussy that sensitive, baby?" Taehyung cooed pressing his middle finger to glide directly over the patch where your clit was, making your hips curve inwards as the intensity was blare enough to startle you.

He chuckled deeply at that, kind of sounding like a purr and just when you didn't think he could fuck with your sanity anymore than he was already doing, he turned his head to the side and lapped his wet muscle along your jugular vein before enclosing his lips area the area for harsh suck.

you moaned loudly as you arched your back against jungkook. taehyung put one leg over his shoulder to go deeper.

"Daddy!" You cried as his tongue slid through your folds. He moaned at the unimpeded taste of your cunt. Circling your entrance, he eagerly tasted everything you had to offer.

" don't take it all tae, shit she looks hot." jungkook groaned into your neck, biting licking and sucking against your sweet spot.

you whined as you trembled against the two men. you felt hot.

"Fuck!" You shrieked, spasming when he gave you a slap against your sodden folds . " I—!"

" be careful girl." jungkook growled into your ear

you moaned apologies left right and centre as he continued to abuse your aching clit.

suddenly you were harshly pulled away from taehyung's hot wet muscle and pushed into the soft plush bed.

you whined in protest at your denied orgasm.

" now, you're going to choose. me or tae." jungkook questioned sadistically

" i...i can't choose that i okay um jungkook?" you said in a small voice.

" good decision honey, now lie back let me take care of you." he cooed kindly

taehyung scoffed as he sat back

you were more than happy like this, but when you shifted your hips to grind your centre against his, you both groaned open-mouthed into the kiss.

You could feel that he was already hard in his boxers. Knowing that his willing cock was so close to your needy core erased your mind of any thoughts that weren't of him.

When you dragged your clit against him again you keened, the pleasure incredible despite the barriers between you.

he felt so big as you continued your actions

suddenly you felt his large and literally massive cock push into your plush soppy cunt.

you moaned loudly as jungkook groaned.

taehyung smirked as he shook his head.

" get moving i wanna see her squirt."

jungkook rocked back and forth at a steady pace it was amazing don't get me wrong but you wanted more you needed more.

"more! more please harder jungkook please! " you begged.

" princess, don't beg for things you can't keep up with." he chuckled

there was an animalistic gaze in his eye as he started plunging into your pussy, taehyung mouth open jerking himself off at the sight, your open lie open as he ground his fat cock into you.

you felt hot and euphoric and couldn't help but let moans continuously fall out of your mouth.

suddenly you felt a harsh slap on your face. you felt tears well up in your eyes.

Without warning, his cock was rammed inside you. Raw and hard with the way your pussy was soaking wet from your denied orgasm , he began to relentlessly fuck into you.

tears began spilling out of your eyes continuously and your moans became pornographic.

as if he couldn't go any faster he began to drill inside you, your body shook in ecstasy as his fat cock was pistoned into you.

you felt your high approaching, you panicked and begged for them to let you come.

" please! please let me cum ! ill be good , ill be a good girl ! " you cried out towards them

jungkook craned himself to be face to face with you, as he stared at you with his dark and lustful. his wet lips capture yours into a sloppy kiss .

he forced your mouth open and let his tongue glide upon yours. he sucked on the wet muscle softly as you cried out.

everything felt so good, too good.

you came 3 times alone with jungkook and felt overstimulated beyond belief.

" now it's my turn . " taehyung dead panned

" w-what i can't take anymore ill just su- "

" i said. it's my turn. " he uttered in a harsh tone

you wailed in frustration as your body writhed in defeat .

" you're gonna take it . that's what you asked for . " he spat at you.

observing the way your eyes darken, turning neediness, and the way your chest heaves in short breaths, Taehyung’s jaw flexes.

He pressed the tip against your hole, seeing you tense up almost immediately. taehyung rubbed the end of his cock along your wet cunt before sinking himself into you.

" d-daddy ple- ! " you body spasmed against the head board as taehyung suddenly slammed his body into you continuously.

“ you’re such an eager little whore, aren’t you?” he purrs, condescension laced in his tone.

you tightly held onto the relentless man as you felt your high approaching once more.

taehyung’s thrusts became sloppy as he grunted against your neck.

you felt your body swirl and turn around you and you finally came.

hours later

you groggily woke up as you felt your body give out into the bed.

“ hel- hello? ” you said wearily

“ hi princess.” taehyung smirked

“ round 5?” jungkook asked

you sighed as you submitted to them in their bed

here we go again.

5 missed calls from jimin

[comphersjost]

All for You | 2 ➸ Brady Tkachuk and Matthew Tkachuk

hi, its 3 am, and i couldnt stop until i finished this. ik i promised yall another part on thursday so im sorry this is later then i was hoping. i hope you enjoy it :) i took a different approach to brady here than ive normally seen, let me know how you guys like it!!

It’s been 4 and a half months since that day in the basement. With Christmas just days away and Matty on a flight back home, you and Brady take a risk, leaving Matt to wonder where he went wrong.

word count: 4.6k

warnings: this is really angsty yall, like actually, smut, sir kink, brady is Mean, uh moral ambiguity sorta (thinking abt someone else during sex), d/s undertones sorta, unprotected sex (be safe), oral (m on f), some choking, alcohol (wine), sex under the influence, pls ignore any typos fkakldfa

part one

part two

part three

part four

part five

masterlist

Even with how utterly fucked the situation was that Matt had found himself in, there was one thing he couldn't stop thinking about. It was the way his logo and his last name and his number rested against your back that drove him insane.

It was burned into his retinas.

Even now, on a plane back home to St. Louis it was all he could think about. Every time he closed his eyes it was you you you.

It had been months since he had seen you. Nearly 5 months had passed since that night in the basement. And it killed him.

He was in a slump. Everyone knew it. He knew it, his teammates knew it, the damn front office knew it. And it was because of you.

His teammates had quickly put together your absence at any sort of gathering and Matty’s sulking. 4 and a half months later he resembles a shell of the man he used to be.

He had called, of course he had. Over and over, hoping, pleading, praying to any deity that existed out there to hear from you again.

Matthew’s prayer was answered one day, when he had come out of practice to find a text from you. His heart rate accelerated, time felt like molasses as his phone camera ID’d his face. As the facial recognition unlocks his phone, the message is revealed.

Please stop calling me. And tell the boys to stop too.

The text tears his heart to shreds. It was the last straw. Before he had been mopey, but now - now he was spiraling. His play was abysmal - a shit show on the ice really. He drank until he blacked out every time, not even looking at another girl.

He had contemplated going to your work, but decided a player in the middle of a slump having a restraining order filed against him would not go over well with the Flames management. Every time he went out for the most mundane task, groceries, dry cleaning, he couldn’t help the hope that he would run into you. Even if you didn’t give him the time of day it would be enough for him to just see you.

He hadn’t seen you since that day. Not for lack of trying, though. Matthew had been to all the spots you used to frequent—the grocery store you love, the clubs you two used to go to, even the 7/11 you had both been to after the both of you got so drunk that you could barely walk. You weren’t on the flight you had booked back together. In fact, he had no idea about anything that’s been going on in your life, his mom just told him that you’re okay and that was all he got.

Now it was 3 days before Christmas and the idea of seeing you again both filled him with dread and also made him feel more alive than he had in months. He was equally utterly terrified and buzzing with excitement. His hands itched to hold you again, though he knew there was a bigger chance of you slapping him than letting him kiss you the way he wanted.

As Matt stares out the window at the clouds, he lets his mind wander. He wonders how you're doing; are you okay? After everything that happened did you pick up right where you left off? He wondered if you missed him, if he was on your mind as much as you were on his.

He still wondered if you loved him back.

-

“Mom, I really just, I really want to stay home and do nothing tonight okay? I'm tired.”

Your mom rolls her eyes at your attempt at getting out of going over to Tkachuk’s house tonight. You’d been trying since 9 am.

“Honey, I know you said you and Matthew don’t hang out anymore, but he won't be there!” she tried reassuring you, “Brady and Taryn will be there to hang out with you until Taryn goes to spend the night with the Johnson’s.” That made you groan even louder - you had to be alone with Brady. Great, now you had to steel yourself for a night of utter humiliation.

Brady isn't even downstairs yet when you enter the Tkachuk’s threshold, Chantal’s call for her kids brings Taryn down in an instant, ever excited to see you.

“Y/N!” she squeals, running down the stairs, “You're here, you're here!”

“Y/N?” you hear faintly, and then the slam of Brady’s door and rapid footsteps. He nearly slides down the stairs, freezing at the bottom when he spots you. Taryn lets you out of her embrace, leaving you to stare wide-eyed at Brady. Unsure how to navigate your way out of this situation, you keep staring at Brady as your parents and Taryn follow Chantal to the kitchen.

“Hi, B,” you say meekly, unsure of how he’ll receive you after so long.

“Hi, buttercup,” he responds, a bright smile pulling at his lips. It’s all he needs to take a few quick steps in your direction and draw you into his arms.

“I missed you so much, buttercup,” he whispers against your hairline, “More than you know.”

Despite his warm welcome, the night is tense. You still don't know what he thinks of that night, not wanting to ask him in front of your families - well, most of your families anyways. You didn't even let yourself think about what would happen when you saw Matthew at the next dinner party. You sat at the table and ate your food, barely speaking to Taryn and answering Keith and Chantal’s inquiries about your life in Calgary with a tight smile.

You’re so zoned out trying to make time go faster you barely register your parents telling you that they’re going out with Keith and Chantal.

“Mom, wait-”

“Y/N,” she warns, looking at you with that look, and you sigh in resignation. She smiles at you, a silent promise to make it up to you.

Taryn had left 30 minutes ago, announcing that she had somewhere to be before leaving as quickly as she could, uncomfortable with the palpable tension between you and Brady.

You watch your parents leave, wincing for a moment at what awaits you when you turn around. To your surprise, what greets you is a glass of wine hovering in front of your face.

You take the peace offering gingerly from Brady’s hand with a tiny smile. And it’s a really bad idea, the way you let him keep refilling your glass, and his own, let him draw you in during The Grinch on the couch, let him hold you tight under the blanket that was covering the both of you.

You can hear your common sense screaming in the back of your mind when you snuggle closer into Brady’s chest. It’s near 11 now, and your parents are still together, laughing and drinking in the living room of your house before Keith and Chantal are supposed to head to the airport. You're cuddled up to Brady, shifting every few minutes to try and get closer, even though nearly every inch of your body is practically glued to him.

He hums when you shift again, nuzzling your face into his shoulder. “Gotta go home,” you say, your voice muffled against him. It’s not like you haven't spent the night with him before; you just haven't since that night.

“Probably,” he mumbles, arms tightening around you. “But I don't want you to.” And like, you've had way too much wine and you should probably go before Matty gets here cause you really can't handle that conversation like this so you push off of Brady, standing up but stumbling, wine sloshing over the lip of the glass and splattering on your pants.

“Fuck,” you hiss, the red wine surely staining the gray leggings you wore. Brady takes the glass from you, placing it on the table and stabilizing you with his other hand.

“Go change upstairs,” he says softly, looking up at you with those eyes you're such a sucker for. “Stay.”

And - how can you say no to that? You can't, because it's Brady and you're so damn easy for him it didn't matter what he’d asked you to do, you would do it without a second thought.

That's how you find yourself stumbling to Brady’s bedroom, barely finding your way to his bathroom to change out of your stained leggings and wipe yourself down. You rummage through Brady’s dresser, searching for - there it was. A pair of Brady’s sweatpants from high school that he stopped wearing approximately 2 months after he got them [mostly because he couldn't find them (mostly mostly because they were either in your room or on your body)].

You place the worn sweats on top of Brady’s dresser, fumbling to close the drawer and find your balance. Someone clears their throat and your head snaps towards the doorway. Brady is leaning against the doorframe and through the fuzziness of the wine, you register the thought that he looks so good like this - in his comfort zone.

“Hey,” he says, pushing off the doorframe towards you.

“Hi,” you whisper back, eyes too focused on Brady moving towards you.

“We should give it a shot,” Brady husks, hooded eyes trailing down your body and back up again. Suddenly the room feels too cold, the oversized sweater you had on stopped at the top of your thighs, barely covering the pale pink panties you were wearing. The sweater paws gave an air of innocence around you that Brady knew was fake.

“What are you talking about?” you whisper meekly, both concerned about what was going on in that head of his, and intrigued.

“You know how you feel about me,” Brady states - which isn't entirely true anymore, but you don’t interrupt. “I don’t know how I feel about you, and neither of us actually knows if this-” he motions between the two of you “-is it for us, so I say, we give it a shot and see how it feels. Let’s give it until we go back?”

When did he get so close to you? Brady’s taking more steps forward, and you’re taking as many steps back, until the back of your thighs hit the corner of the bed and you instinctively sit.

Which - in retrospect, was probably a mistake, because now Brady towers over you even more than before and now - you’re really intrigued. His fingers trail over your jaw, thumb swiping gently across your bottom lip.

You part your lips out of habit, eyes widen when you realize what you’ve done. Brady laughs darkly when he catches your slip up, stroking your face affectionately.

His thumb slips between your lips for a moment, and your eyes flutter shut as your cheeks hollow around him.

“Look at me,” he commands softly, and you do, opening your eyes to stare up at him again; Brady, your best friend. He smiles proudly, murmuring a soft, “Good girl.”

The words are uttered at the same time he withdraws from your warm mouth, wrapping his fingers gently around your throat. You can’t help the whine that escapes, mortified when Brady’s grin widens.

He leans down, mouth next to your ear to whisper, “Matty always did like it when they’re needy. Needy girls drive us crazy.”

Really, the thought of Matt shouldn’t be driving you crazy, but it is. And when you feel Brady’s nose nudge against yours, his mouth just millimeters from you - your biggest fantasy for nearly 20 years - you knew you were going to hell.

A needy moan escapes your throat before Brady’s hand tightens around your throat and you give in, looping your arms around his neck. You pull him down to meet your lips, nearly clawing at him in your desperation.

Faintly, you think that this is a bad idea, this would only hurt you more later on.

But the longer you kissed him, the less you cared about the consequences. You wanted - you needed Brady so fucking bad right now you were willing to deal with whatever the aftermath presented you with. Brady’s other hand finds the bottom of your sweater, slipping underneath the fabric to lay against your rib cage.

You needed more.

“Brady,” you whine as you break away from his lips, tugging at his hoodie. “Need you.” Brady chuckles darkly, tugging you by your throat to kiss him again.

“Ask nicely,” he husks against your mouth.

“Please,” you whimper again, pulling harder at the fabric to just get him closer. “Please, Brady, I need you so bad.”

“Try again.” Brady pushes you - nearly tosses you really - further up the bed with a snarl, ignoring the yelp you let out at the suddenness of his mood shift. You stare up at him, eyes wide and lips parted. You're unsure of your next words.

“Please…Daddy?”

A cocky smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. “Not quite.”

You think for a moment, watching him bring his hand behind his back and pull his shirt over his head. The dark look he gives you makes you shrink, as if to say ‘Still?’.

Suddenly your eyes light up, and Brady can see it. He's already on the bed, crawling up your body as you attempt to control your breath. The words are barely out before he's kissing you again.

“Please sir?”

Brady groans into your mouth when he hears you say the words, slotting himself between your thighs to grind his hips against yours. You mewl into his mouth when his clothed cock catches against your clit, pushing your hips up against him for more. He growls as he pulls away again, swatting your thigh as a warning.

“Careful, princess,” Brady warns - voice low and dangerous - and his grip on your hip so tight you knew there would be bruises in the morning, “or I won't be.” His words are thick with intention, both a threat and a promise.

“Yes, sir,” you breathe shakily, letting yourself fall against the sheets to look up at him.

Brady’s eyes soften for a moment, reaching up to brush your hair out of your eyes. “Hi,” he whispers, leaning down to steal a kiss.

“Hi,” comes your response. He steals another kiss before pulling away again, and you can't help but think that he looks beautiful like this.

I love you. I'm in love with you.

You want to say it, the voice inside you is screaming it. It’s screaming for you to say it, and Brady is looking at you almost like he wants you to too.

The feeling of his hands pushing your sweater up distracts you from your plight. Brady’s movement is slow, and he’s looking at you intensely, giving you time to stop him. You only nod, and the softness is gone as soon as it had come. You lift your arms to help him bring the material over your head. He tosses the sweater to the side, catching your wrists when you reach for him. He guides them back over your head, smirking as you suppress a shudder when he leans in a whispers against your mouth. “Be a good girl and keep your hands there princess.”

You nod quickly, grasping the sheets in anticipation. Another slap to your thigh has you rethinking.

“I’m sorry!” you gasp. “Yes, sir.”

Brady hums in acknowledgment, kissing down your throat until he’s staring up at you from the valley between your breasts. You whine softly when he pulls a nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing the harden peak before soothing it with his tongue. His hand is pinching and pulling at your other nipple, making your noises significantly louder. He alternates, playing with your nipples until they're swollen and sensitive and sore.

He sits back on his heels to look at you, hands on your knees now, sliding up your thighs. His eyes roam your body unabashedly, while his fingers play with the waistband of your panties. There's a burning look in his eyes as he says, “You're gorgeous. You're so fucking beautiful.”

You don't know why hearing him say it makes you tear up. Brady had told you that you were pretty before, that you cleaned up nice, always telling you how hot you were when he'd see you dressed up before events. He was your own personal hype man but he'd never called you beautiful.

Not like this.

Not like Matty.

Not like Matty.

The thought makes your blood run cold.

“Please,” you mewl, starting to reach for Brady before remembering what he told you. Your hands fly back above your head, twisting in the sheets, whispering, “I’m sorry, sir, I forgot.”

Brady smiles softly, slipping his finger under the waistband of your panties, tugging on it before letting it snap back against your skin. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, leaning down to kiss softly at your stomach. “Trying so hard to be good for me.” He shuffles himself backwards as he kisses his way down your body, sliding your panties down your legs at the same time until they've fallen to the floor.

“Wait,” you say softly, causing Brady to pause, his expression quizzical. “Please, I need you.”

Brady grins wickedly. “Just a taste princess.”

It turns out, ‘a taste’ actually means Brady edging you with his tongue until you were nearly crying. He's brought you to the brink three times now, each time getting you closer and closer before pulling away. At this point he's holding your hips down and your hands are as tangled in the sheets as you could get them, not wanting the repercussions of disobeying.

Brady’s tongue is sliding through your folds again when you finally break.

“Please!” you sob, tears finally sliding down your cheeks as your back arches from the pleasure. “Please, Brady, please, sir, please please, I- I need - please just - fuck - please.”

Brady hums against your cunt, the vibrations tearing a scream from your throat. Suddenly the warmth of Brady’s mouth is gone, leaving you chasing him with a buck of your hips. He pins you back down again easily, his lips glistening as he smirks. You hate the way the sleazy look on his face does it for you.

It reminds you of Matt.

You whine again, wiggling your hips as much as you could in Brady’s grip. “Please just fuck me,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut. You feel his lips press against your hip, smiling against your skin.

“Anything my girl wants, she gets,” he murmurs against your skin.

My girl. The words echo over and over again in your head. My girl my girl my girl.

Two words you've been waiting years to hear come out of his mouth, and the only thing you could think of was how you liked it better when Matty said it.

Your eyes stay shut as Brady kisses up your body, fingertips dancing over your skin. His mouth finds yours, emptying your brain of all other thoughts but him.

“You ready for me, pretty girl?” he asks you, a hand coming up to stroke your cheek gently, wiping your tears away. Your eyes flutter open, to look at him, nodding as you bite your lip. His thumb tugs your lip out from between your teeth as you feel the tip of his dick brush against your thigh. You didn't even realize that he had taken off the rest of his clothes, but you weren't complaining. Not with him so close like this.

“Please,” you whimper, and after stealing another kiss, Brady sinks into your heat.

“Fuuuuuck,” he groans, gripping the back of your thigh to spread your legs even further. “You're so fucking tight, fuck you feel so good.” Once he’s bottomed out, Brady leans down to kiss you, swallowing your desperate noises.

He gives you little time to adjust, and really - you don't need it considering the way he tortured you with his mouth and fingers. You're whining into his mouth as his hips move against you, the drag off his cock inside you so fucking good after being denied like you were.

You're close already, and Brady knows, delivering sharp thrusts and hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars.

He finally breaks from your lips, breathing heavily as his hips slam into your cunt. “I'm so close,” you tell him, gripping the sheets above your head so hard you feel like you might rip them. “Please, please let me cum, sir, please.”

It seems like Brady finally thinks you've had enough torture, because he brings his hand from your thigh to your clit, rubbing quick tight circles. “You've been so good for me baby,” he grunts, his other hand holding him up so he can look down at you. “Come on baby, you can touch me now, come on princess, cum for me.”

That's all it takes to send you over the edge. Your hands come flying from above your head to grasp at Brady, his shoulders, his back, tangling in his hair, anything to just touch him. You cry out as your orgasm hits, your back arching under Brady as he relentlessly fucks you through it.

You faintly register Brady’s filthy encouragement in your ears, telling you how good you are for doing what he says, for not touching him this whole time, for cumming for him like this. You writhe against him as you feel him spill into you, grunting as he fucks into you, chasing his orgams with shallow, sloppy thrusts. It feels like you've been riding your high forever; your vision is blurry when you finally come down.

Brady’s breath is hot on your neck, his hands stroking your skin gently as the two of you catch your breath. He shushes you gently as you moan when he pulls out of you. Brady practically collapses next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you into his chest. He peppers kisses across your skin, nudging his nose against your cheek to grab your attention.

You can barely turn your head, suddenly so tired you feel like you'll pass out right that second. “Hi,” he murmurs, kissing you gently. You hum and bury your face in his neck.

“‘M sleepy,” you mumble against his skin, eliciting a soft laugh from him.

“Then sleep,” he says, before smirking devilishly, “don't worry there's lots more where that came from, but in the morning.” You snort at his words, squeezing the back of his neck before burying your fingers in his curls.

“Night, B,” you mumble.

“Goodnight, buttercup.”

-

Matthew was going to kill his brother. He was going to straight up murder him. On top of not being there to pick him up from the airport, he also didn't answer any texts or calls from Matt.

So yeah, when Matthew got home, he was going to kill Brady. When the Uber finally pulls up in front of him, Matthew is nearly halfway done with his plan to get away with it.

He fiddles with his phone as the driver pulls away from the curb, scanning the random notifications that he had popped up when he got off the plane. It's when he opens up Instagram that he really pays attention, the 3 stories in a row at the top of his feed catching his eye.

Taryn’s, yours, and Brady’s. Against his better judgement, he taps Taryn’s magenta-rimmed profile picture. The story takes a moment to load, but when it does, he sees a picture of you in front of the Tkachuk’s Christmas tree. You had your arms out in a ‘ta-da’ fashion, the fingers barely poking out through the sleeves of your sweater. Taryn’s caption reads “didn’t need an angel for the tree cause we already got @y/n/y/l/n”. He can't help but smile fondly, so distracted by how cute you look that he just stares at you until the time is up - but not before pressing on the screen so he could screenshot the photo.

Your first story was a repost of Taryn’s, a simple white heart emoji in the bottom corner. The second was a shot of the TV in the Tkachuk’s living room displaying the Grinch’s title. The caption reads “heart grows two sizes bigger when i’m home :)”. The location is tagged as St. Louis, with Taryn and Brady tagged in the corner of the photo. The third post makes his blood run cold, it's a video of you and Brady, your back against his chest as you lay on the couch, the caption the cross-eyed emoji and Brady’s handle. Brady is facing away from the camera in the beginning of the video, your eyebrows raised as you wait for him to notice. When he does he laughs and reaches for your phone. The video cuts off there.

Matthew taps the left side of his screen to replay it, an unpleasant feeling twisting in his gut. He doesn't want to watch Brady’s story, but he taps the right side of his screen anyways. It's a photo of you on the couch, one knee pulled up to your chest with the other in Brady’s lap, and a glass of wine in your hand. Your hair is piled into a messy bun on top of your head as you wink at the camera and make a peace sign with your free hand, tongue peaking out of the corner of your mouth.

Matt screenshots the picture.

He’s angry; angry because his brother left him stranded at the airport. Angry because he said he hadn't spoken to you either, that you didn't answer any of his texts and calls since that night. He's angry because Brady managed to get you back, and Matt didn't.

Matty’s angry because he loves you, and he's pretty sure you still love Brady.

When the car finally pulls up to the house, he’s almost relieved. He notes that the lights are off downstairs as he lets himself in, pausing when he sees your shoes still by the door. The glow of the TV is visible in the living room, and as Matt pads towards it, the uneasy feeling grows.

There's two partially filled glasses of wine on the coffee table, as well as yours and Brady’s phones. He taps on Brady’s phone, revealing the unread texts and unanswered calls from Matt, as well as an unread text from Chantal, telling Brady that he would have to be the one to pick up Matty from the airport.

The pit in Matt’s stomach only deepens as he climbs the stairs, duffle bag in hand. He goes slowly, trying to prolong his inevitable heartbreak, but it doesn't change what he sees at the top.

Brady’s bedroom door is half open, the light from the hallway streaming in.

Matthew knows it's a bad idea when he takes one, two, three steps and he's in front of Brady’s door. He takes a deep breath and pokes his head inside the room. The sight nearly knocks the wind out of him.

You're tucked under Brady’s arm, your nose squished against his cheek and your hand curled around his neck.  He can see the bare skin of your back and stomach pressed against Brady’s bare torso. A blanket covers the both of you from the waist down. Brady’s hair is a mess, and so is yours, and suddenly Matt feels nauseous.

He feels like he would do anything - anything - to make the feeling in his chest go away. It feels like pressure, too much pressure, in his chest, and he nearly clutches his heart. The blood is rushing in his ears, he can't breathe, he feels dizzy.

Why does it hurt so much?

Before he can think it through he’s stumbling to his room. He kicks the door shut behind him, tossing the duffle back on the floor near his bed. His hands are reaching for the backpack on his shoulders and pulling out his laptop before it even hits the ground. He doesn't even sit, placing the laptop on his bed and bending down to type into the search bar.

He barely pays attention to the final amount when he hits “confirm” - he has more money than he knows what to do with anyways. The moment it’s done he sighs, watching the Gmail notification light up on his phone.

“Flight Confirmation, December 23rd, 2020 11:25 pm

St. Louis, Missouri to Calgary, Canada”

[psychovigilantewrites]

Don’t Call Me That Pt. 2

Wordcount: 10,129

A/N:  I thought this part 2 would total up to 10k words, but when it hit 10k, I realised that I was only about 65 percent done. So based on the responses I got from tumblr, I decided to publish this first and then conclude the story later on!

TW:  mentions of r*pe, mentions of torture, mentions of drugging someone (??) , mental breakdowns, vulnerability, descriptions of anxiety

Also, HERE’S MY FAV MEMES!! I’m so sorry that I can’t tag respective meme creators, because I saved them on my phone and some of them I forgot to include your usernames!! I’M SO SORRY!!! And honest to god is wear there were more but i must have lost them im so sorry im so incompetent lmao

memeesss

You glanced at your phone.

It had already been a week in Hawaii with your friends, and Jason still hadn’t texted you.

Well, you should have expected it, really. Jason was a traumatised, mentally ill man who had been locked away for two years.

Of course he wouldn’t text you first.

You had contemplated texting him over the past few days, typing in an array of messages ranging from a simple “hey” to a whole paragraph, and deleting all of it without hitting send. Did he even switch the phone on? Was he surfing the internet? Or was the phone still there on the shelf where you had left it.

It was driving you crazy.

“Do you have a boyfriend we don’t know about?” a voice called.

You looked up and squinted at the man who was standing up, looking down at you. You were sitting on the beach, a little further away from the ocean where your friends were.

“What are you talking about?” you asked as Alex plopped down next to you.

“You’ve been fidgety the whole time,” he pointed out, combing back his dark shoulder length hair with his fingers, getting sand in them. “We’re on a private beach, and you’ve been fussing over your phone. Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” you grumbled truthfully.

“The girls have been gossiping,” he gestured to the two other girls playing in the water. Your closest friends. It was four of you in that inseparable group.

“Of course they have,” you groaned, “Tell them to SAY IT TO MY FACE, COWARDS!”

You shouted at them, earning you grins and middle fingers from the distance.

“They’re saying you’re in love with someone,” he chuckled, “But they always say stupid shit like that without any evidence. But sometimes, a girl’s intuition is just right, ya know?”

“Stop beating around the bush, Alex,” you rolled your eyes at him despite knowing he couldn’t see past your sunglasses. “No, I’m not in love. I’m just waiting for a text that might never come.”

“Why don’t you text him first?”

“Because it’s not as simple as that!” you flailed your arms, “He’s… complicated. I can’t just text him anything.”

“Girl, unless he’s Mr. Nottingham, or related to you, then it really isn’t that complicated,” he joked.

“Ugh,” you groaned again, falling back onto the cloth you spread out. “Fine. I’ll text him.”

“Atta girl,” Alex grinned, “I’m gonna head back in the water. Join us after. Please?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved.

Opening the text window for what had to be the thirtieth time, you finally decided to text him.

You: Miss me yet?

Staring intently at the small ‘sent’ below your message bubble, you waited for it to turn to ‘delivered’.

“Yes!” you hissed. It meant that Jason had indeed switched on the phone.

But after twenty minutes you realised that it didn’t matter if Jason switched on the phone if he didn’t want to talk to you. Cursing to yourself, you decided to join your friends in the water, hoping it’ll distract you from checking your phone every five minutes for a text message that might never come.

After an hour of actually spending time with your friends, all four of you returned to the villa, your mood elevated. Checking your phone, you could have jumped for joy when you saw not one, but four consecutive texts in a row.

Jason: Duck off. Jason: What the duck Jason: WHY CANT I SAY DUCK Jason: I DUCKING HATE THIS

You couldn’t let out a string of giggles.

“Oooh, lover boy texted you back, huh?” Alex peeked over your shoulder. “Gimme, I wanna mess with him.”

He snatched your phone from your hands, surprisingly swift and smooth for a civilian, raising it way above his head so you couldn’t reach it and opened the camera.

“Alex-!”

He threw his other arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his bare chest, crushing you before you could tackle him down. He snapped a picture and sent it.

You froze in horror.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” you yelled.

“Relax, I was just messing around,” he gave your phone back to you.

“You don’t- you don’t understand, you fucking asshole!” you screamed.

“I- I’m sorry,” Alex stuttered, surprised by your reaction. “I was just-”

“Fuck off!” you snapped.

Panicking, you saw the little notification below the picture turning from Received to Read.

No. No, no, no, no.

This was bad.

You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason by sending him photos of your activities, thinking that he might react badly to the sudden surplus of familiarity and sense of being close to someone. Now you were worried that he might start to push you away in fear, reverting back to how he was before, and months of progress would have been all for nothing.

He would probably start swearing at you, or worse- switch off the phone and reject any form of communication completely. You hurriedly texted a reply.

You: I’m so sorry! I didn’t send that, my friend was just messing around.

Expecting the worst, you braced yourself for the inevitable. Instead, he sent you:

Jason: Who the hell is that guy?? Jason: Why are you in your underwear??

Your mouth hung open as you stared in shock at the screen. Because you took so long to recover from the shock, he sent you another message.

Jason: ???

Snapping out of it, you texted back.

You: That’s just my friend. Sorry about that! And I’m not in my underwear, it’s a bikini! I’m in Hawaii.

You waited for him to reply, but ten minutes of you sitting anxiously on the turquoise sofa in the middle of the villa listening to the waves of the beach outside from the open doors passed by, and he still hadn’t.

Perhaps he’s busy- wait. There’s no way Jason would be busy. You tried to coax him into a conversation.

You: You can turn off your autocorrect if you want to swear without hassle. Go to your Keyboard settings.

You plopped your phone on the empty seat next to you and dried your hair.

“Ugh, come on!” complained Natalie, fully clothed and washed, walking towards the open concept kitchen from her room. “You’re getting sand everywhere!”

“Woops, my bad,” you grinned.

“There’s a shower outside on the porch for a reason you know,” she flipped her blond beach waves at you, looking through the fridge.

Alex stood quietly at the kitchen island, now scared to say anything.

You rolled your eyes. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Okay, I promise!” he grinned.

Ding.

Jason: fuck. fuck. fucking fuck. Jason: found it. You: Proud of you, man.

You went to your room and showered, then dried off and put on fresh clothes while waiting for Jason to reply.

Of course, he never did.

Groaning, you had to remind yourself that he was not used to human interaction, and texting would come unnaturally to him. Which meant that you had to be the one to keep the conversation going.

You: Do anything interesting since I left?

You saw him typing almost immediately this time.

Jason: no.

Of course not.

You: Have you been eating properly? Jason: yeah.

God, it was so difficult. You were in the middle of typing something when he replied again.

Jason: yoire not my mom Jason: yoire Jason: YOIRE Jason: FUCK WHY CANR I TYPE

You felt guilty for laughing, but you did anyway.

You: Now that you switched off autocorrect, it won’t correct your typos and misspells anymore. Jason: i fucking knw that. Ive been gone for two yeard not twenty. You: Then why do you sound like a grandpa? Jason: BECAISE YOU GAVE ME A FUCKINF IPHONE!! I USED AN ANDROID!!

Now you were really laughing out loud, so you sent him a GIF of a woman rolling her eyes.

Jason: wtf you can send gifs throug text now?? You: Welcome to 2020, my dude. Jason: im not your fucking dude

Typing a reply, Jason interrupted you once again.

Jason: teach me how to do that

Smiling widely, you found that you couldn’t wait for the next week to pass by so you could go back and see him.

***

“How’s Jason?” you asked the minute you reached the Cave computers, panting from the run down.

“Wow, hello to you, too,” Dick chuckled, spinning towards you on the wheeled chair.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and Bruce and Dick were in front of the computers, discussing a case that had connections to Bludhaven Police Department.

Gone for two weeks, you had a lot to catch up on.

“According to Alfred, he’s doing well,” Bruce answered, “Even started to ask for seconds last week. Now Alfred has been making portions for two.”

“He asked? For seconds?” you gasped. “How?”

“He left a note on the tray two days after you left. He’s been making meal requests, too. Texts Alfred in the morning to let him know.”

“Texted?!”

“Alfred slipped his number on the tray in case Jason wanted anything specific.”

“I slipped mine as well, but he hasn’t texted me yet,” Dick pouted.

“When did he start texting?” you ignored Dick.

“Last Sunday.”

So the same day you started texting him, then.

“He hasn’t texted me,” Dick sighed, looking dejected like a kid who was told Disneyland blew up.

“He’ll come around, Dick,” you offered him a smile, “I mean- he’s already texting Alfred!”

“Yeah,” he lamented.

“Okaaay, nice talk. I’m gonna go see him now, bye.”

You ran to the box, but stopped right before you opened the internal door. After checking your hair with your phone camera, you tried to stifle the butterflies in your stomach.

Ugh, you were so fucked.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

“Yeah,” Jason’s muffled grunt answered you.

Pushing it open, your eyes immediately went to the bed only to find that he wasn’t lounging around reading a book like you expected. Instead, your mouth dropped open when you saw him on the floor, doing push ups.

Shirtless.

Jason had changed drastically during the two weeks you were gone. You noticed that he had definitely gained weight, as well as muscle mass.

“Uh, wh-what are you..?”

He stood up, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

His muscles were much more prominent and defined now, and he looked like he was going to achieve Dick’s physique if he kept it up for another month or two.

“Welcome back,” he simply said before taking gulps from a water bottle you definitely had not seen before.

“Thanks,” you walked over and sat on his bed, “I��m glad to see that you decided to start taking care of yourself again.”

“What, this? This isn’t for me.”

“Huh?” you cocked your head in curiosity.

“I… I lost a lot of muscle mass. My body- it isn’t how it used to be,” he frowned, “And I can’t have you lusting over it when it’s not at its peak.”

“What- what do you-?” you stammered, suddenly getting hot.

Jason merely smirked and then continued his push ups.

You watched as his developing muscles rippled, a thin layer of sweat making his skin glisten in the light. It was amazing how he had progressed so much in such a short period of time. You guessed that he must have just been occupying his days by working out.

No wonder he’s been asking for seconds.

“Enjoying the view?” Jason breathed, pausing with his arms straightened, his head angled upwards towards you.

“No, shut up,” you looked away.

“Here, be useful,” he started, “Sit on my back.”

“What?”

“I’ve gotten used to my own body weight, I need extra resistance,” he elaborated, “Come on, sit on my back.”

“But it’s all sweaty,” you whined, pretending to protest. Definitely pretending- for the sake of your own dignity.

You got up and went over towards him anyway.

Carefully, awkwardly, you sat on his back as you would a park bench. You rested your palms flat against his sticky skin to stabilise yourself. Suddenly, he dipped down without warning, earning a soft squeal from you.

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” he strained, but continued to do the push ups. He was shakier, struggling with the weight, and after twenty-five, he paused. “Okay, I think I’m done.”

But before you had the chance to get off him, he suddenly stood up, throwing you off his back to have you fall on the floor on your ass.

“Jason, you assho-” you clapped your hand over your mouth, realising what you had just said.

Oh, no. Oh, fuck.

He stood towering over you, his jaw clenching as he stared you down with his cold, blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot! It was a reflex and-”

“Whatever. I don’t care anymore,” he rolled his eyes, reaching for his bottle.

You blinked. Then scrambled to your feet.

“You don’t care anymore?” you repeated slowly.

“I don’t care if you call me that,” he huffed.

That made your heart swell and melt at the same time.

“I got used to your voice,” he mumbled, expression changing as he looked away. He frowned, as if he was angrily staring at a distant object.

You had just guessed that he didn’t like to be called his name because of a sense of familiarity, but now you were thinking that there was much more to that than what you had originally thought.

“So, I can call you… Jason?” you tested.

“Yeah, call me whatever you want,” he sat on his bed, looking up at you.

You smiled, thankful that you had finally crossed that bridge. “You know, I could get some workout stuff for you? Weights, bands, that bar thing that you can put at your door frame for pull ups…”

“You’d like to see that, huh?” he smirked.

“You flatter yourself too much,” you scoffed.

“How was Hawaii?” he changed the subject all of a sudden.

“It was fun. Beach was great, locals were great, loved the vibe- what are you doing?”

Jason had stood back up and started to walk closer and closer to you, getting all up in your space like a predator finally cornering its prey. You kept on taking steps back until your ass hit the edge of the desk.

Nowhere else to run, your heart started hammering. He leaned in, his hands resting on the desk on either side of your body, trapping you against the table and himself. You looked up and gulped. You could almost feel the heat radiating from his bare skin.

“Are you afraid of me?” he muttered lowly.

“Why would I be afraid of you?” you whispered.

“You tell me,” he said.

“Well, I’m not afraid of you,” you stated.

“Oh really?” he raised an eyebrow. Then, you felt his hand grip your wrist tightly, pressing down on your skin with his fingers. “Your pulse is very fast for someone who’s not afraid of me.”

“It’s because you’re all up in my space!” you argued.

“Didn’t look like you mind when your friend,” he snarled the word, “was all up in your space.”

“My friend? What- oh,” you widen your eyes in realisation, “You mean Alex.”

“Is that his name?”

“Alex is just a friend, nothing more. He’s just someone I’m close to,” you reassured him.

Which then made you think about why you were reassuring him.

“Oh, you were definitely close to him,” Jason growled.

“Wait- are you… jealous?” a smile creeped your lips.

He scowled at you for a few moments, and you could see the little tics in his expression that said he was annoyed. The flared nostrils, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching, the very slight twitches at the corner of his left eye.

“No,” he finally said, taking a step back from you. “I’m going to shower. Since you couldn’t stop staring at me, the invitation is still open for you to join.”

“You know, I’m starting to think that maybe I prefer it when you were broody instead of this. Please go back to your depressive mental state,” you sarcastically replied.

Jason barked out an actual laugh. Though his laugh was odd, like someone who’s only now discovering that humans were indeed capable of laughter, you found comfort in it. It was no longer hysterical and devoid of humor. He was getting better, learning to embrace a connection with someone, and it made you extremely happy.

“Maybe I should,” he answered with a cheeky glint in his eye, “Then that way you can give me more sponge baths.”

He left you alone in his room, flushed and at a loss for words.

***

“I find it very odd that people would yell ‘Batman!’ when they realise you’re there,” you rambled while climbing out of the Batmobile.

You were absolutely drenched from the downpour that had been going on all night. It was 4 am on a friday night and you had just returned from patrol.

Bruce took off his cowl immediately, revealing tired eyes despite the relatively slow night.

“It’s like they’re saying ‘Look at me! I’m here! Please knock me out or hang me upside down from the-’ Bruce?”

Bruce had stiffen, staring at something behind you. You turned around and was shocked to see Jason in the mid-distance, sitting on the ground outside the black box that was his room, leaning against the cool metal.

He himself was staring intently at Bruce, not even sparing you a glance.

You looked back and forth between the two men, sensing a high tension silent conversation.

Then, Bruce’s eyes relaxed and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly in that hardly-there-Bruce-smile.

He gave Jason one stiff nod of understanding, then walked away to the computers at the other end of the cave, leaving you alone with his son.

Jason relaxed as you walked over to him, wringing your hair to squeeze out all the excess water.

“Aw, you waited up for me,” you teased, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips, grinning away.

“Fuck off,” he snorted, “I was bored.”

You noticed him clenching his jaw as he looked at you from top to bottom, eyes lingering longer on the ‘R’ on your left breast.

Ah, it was his first time seeing you in your uniform.

His uniform.

Suddenly, you felt like an imposter in those colors and had the strong urge to rip the uniform off.

You wanted to say something, but Jason beat you to it.

“There were times in that shit hole where I wanted to burn that uniform off my skin,” he grit, “Kept on thinking to myself. I wish I never became Robin. I wish I never met Bruce Wayne.”

Your heart shattered at his confession. It was extremely rare for him to bring up anything related to his two year torture, and the previous times were never in such detail.

Realising you needed to say something, you opened your mouth. “I’m so-”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Yes, sometimes you knew that he just wanted you to listen.

You nodded silently and went to sit next to him on the floor.

“It… suits you,” he forced out.

“Hmm?”

“The uniform. It suits you. More than it ever suited me,” he grumbled.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think your ass would look quite nice in green,” you joked, nudging his shoulder with your own.

He chuckled deeply, nudging you back even harder- hard enough for you to lose your balance and topple sideways, earning another breathy laugh from Jason.

***

Another month passed by, and you found yourself falling deeply for Jason- much to your dismay. You knew Jason wasn’t ready for any kind of intense emotions, and that it would take a very long time before he was.

So you swallowed your emotions down, stifling them and hoping it would go away.

The two of you had developed a pleasant friendship, often bickering and joking around, with Jason teasing you about your obvious physical attraction to him.

He also now occasionally waited outside his cube for you to come back after patrol, never really venturing too far from it, and still avoiding contact with both Bruce and Dick. Only you and Alfred had the privilege to speak to him.

Even then, sometimes you would visit his room but only getting a “I’m not feeling it today. Please leave.”

Understandingly, you would nod silently and leave him alone. You knew he still had his bad days, sometimes not eating his meals.

But mostly, he was getting better, both mentally and physically.

With nothing much to do the whole day, Jason was now obsessed with working out and bulking up. He now had a few simple equipment in his room- mostly weights.

You figured that it was a coping mechanism for him, a healthy outlet to channel all his rage and negative emotions into.

But come on. He was getting even hotter and it was making it extremely difficult for you to stop yourself from checking him out, fantasizing about him when he wasn’t around. Still, you couldn’t complain. Even though he hadn’t reached Dick’s size yet, he was very near to it, and his naturally bigger body frame and build made up for the still developing muscles.

Hell, he was now sporting a six pack.

But you knew that he was still not as well as you hoped he would be. The bloodshot eyes he had was proof that he doesn’t sleep well- and you soon found out why.

It was a little past midnight on your night off from patrol, and you were using your break in the best way you could think of- by sleeping. Something woke you up that night.

A soft knock on your door.

You frowned, eyes still closed, wondering who it was.

Bruce would usually knock twice. Strong, clear, and with purpose. Dick would start pounding rapidly on your door, annoying you intentionally. Alfred would give three soft knocks followed by a ‘Miss?’

Your eyes flew open. There was only one other person in the manor.

Throwing your covers aside, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door to open it.

Jason stood outside your door in the dim lights of the hallway, frowning and running his fingers nervously through his messy dark hair. He was wearing a t-shirt with boxers, standing awkwardly.

“Jason?” you hated how your voice sounded so sleepy. You cleared your throat. “Are you okay? Would you like to come in?”

He nodded silently, and you made way for him to enter before closing the door behind you.

“Sit on the bed,” you told him while jumping back into yours, sitting up cross legged.

The bed dipped when he sat on it, copying your motion and crossed his legs.

You waited for him to say something, your eyes straining to catch his in the dark. But he just remained silent, staring into space and avoiding your eyes.

“How did you know this was my room?” you asked, starting with a light topic.

“Only one that was locked. I already know where everyone else sleeps,” he explained.

“That’s right,” you realised, “I tend to forget that you’re probably even more familiar with the manor than I am.”

“Did you know there’s an old dumbwaiter in Bruce’s room?” you saw him smirk from the shadows that was casted on his face, “I used to hide in there, waiting to catch him off guard.”

“What? Why?”

“Dick and I, we had a bet,” he recalled the memory, “Whoever gets to surprise Bruce first would owe the other a special favor. Only rule was that we had to have it on video as proof.”

You appreciated that moment, the first time he ever spoke about both Dick and Bruce as a fond memory.

“I won, by the way,” he continued, “But- I forgot to press record on my phone.”

“Oh, no,” you groaned for him.

“Yeah, and Dick refused to believe me,” he chuckled, “That old man didn’t want to admit it either. But I swear- the look on his face when I jumped out while he and some model were going at it- priceless.”

Your jaw dropped, and then you burst into a fit of laughter, tears filling your eyes.

“You- you- you jumped out on him while he was having sex?!” you squealed.

“Yeah,” he grinned, “I didn’t even care that it sort of scarred me, because I managed to catch Batman off guard.”

The both of you laughed, his deep voice mingling with your own on that quiet night.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jason,” you smiled warmly at him.

But then, his smile fell.

“I hate my name now.”

“I’m sorry,” you began, “You said it was okay to call you that, so I-”

“No, it’s fine,” he started running his fingers through his hair again, “It’s just- I don’t know.”

“You can tell me anything,” you reassured, “It won’t leave this room. I promise.”

He looked at you, worry in his eyes. “Okay. Fine. Yeah.”

You waited for him to begin.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been having nightmares. Almost every night. It’s always the same one.”

“You want to tell me about it?” you prompted him after waiting for him to continue.

“I hate my name because he said it a lot. Joker,” he scowled, “After repeatedly burning my skin for my name, it’s like that’s all he said. In that annoying, high pitched, sing-song voice of his. Jason, Jason, Jason. It made me hate my name. It made me hate hearing it.”

“I- I didn’t know how much time passed when I was in there,” he continued, “But, fuck. It was- it was hell. And the worst part was that I kept on waiting for Bruce. Waiting and hoping for him to find me and save me. I was so desperate. You- I-”

He choked on his words. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips tight.

You wanted to reach out to him, hug him, tell him that everything was okay now. But you didn’t. You waited for him to collect himself so he could finish telling you his story, just like how he wanted to.

“Anyway, I- despite all that,” he sighed, “That was the only thing that kept me sane. I kept on clinging onto the hope that he was out there, searching. And that helped for a while. Until- until that happened.”

He was breathing heavily now, fidgeting more. Jason was definitely getting increasingly agitated the deeper he went.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Fuck.”

The moment you realised he was crying was when he let out a sniffle. You automatically took his hand in yours, squeezing it as a form of comfort.

“It’s okay,” you told him, “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I need to. I have to. I can’t take this anymore. Keeping everything in, I feel like I’m about to fucking explode.”

“Okay, then take it slow,” you said, “No rush. Anytime you’re ready.”

He nodded, eyes still closed, as if he was afraid of letting you see him cry.

“One night,” he began, “I think- I don’t know what was different- but I think something went wrong for him. Or right? That’s how it was. Tormenting me was fun, but it was also an outlet for him. But at the same time when he was happy, he also tortured me. He came to me, and- injected me with some sort of drug. That never happened before. He made sure that my head was clear whenever he hurt me so that I could feel everything he did.”

“But- he did- and- immediately, I felt weak,” he continued, “I mean, I was already weak. But my head. It was cloudy. I remember everything clearly, but it was like my brain couldn’t process it, couldn’t communicate with my body. I felt like I was looking out through a window that was my eyes- like I was in someone else’s body, experiencing someone else’s moments.”

“He released me,” Jason’s voice was now barely a whisper. “He released me from the ropes, and I fell to the floor. And then he- he- fuck.”

He let go of your hand and started pulling at his hair, rocking back and forth on your bed. He was sobbing now, his shoulders jerking up in sharp intakes of breaths. The only thing you could do was to stay silent and hold back your own tears.

You rested your hand on his knee, giving him a textile connection with reality so he doesn’t fall into his own thoughts.

“You- he- he- ruh- ruhp-”

Your heart sank to your stomach in horror as you realised what Jason was trying to say. It was as if you were plunged into icy water, chills running down your spine at the true revelation of what he had gone through in that cursed cell.

“Oh, no,” you breathed.

“He pushed me down,” he choked, “Pushed me down and climbed on top. I- I couldn’t even fight him. I was- I was conscious the whole time and I knew what was happening, but I couldn’t fucking do anything.”

Your tears were falling down now, both at the sight of Jason looking so vulnerable and fragile, and at his confession. Not being able to help yourself, you threw your arms over his neck and crashed into his hard body, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

His arms immediately wrapped around you, clutching you so hard it was painful as he buried his own face into your shoulder.

“And he kept on saying my name,” he said in muffled cries, “Jason, Jason, Jason. The whole fucking time. And- and I knew. He didn’t do it for pleasure. He did it to torment me. He- he didn’t even- he didn’t even finish.”

Jason sobbed into your skin for the next few minutes, his tears soaking through your night shirt. “But I did. Even though it was painful. Fuck, the pain was worse than anything he had ever done to me before. But- he- I- I fucking came.”

The both of you were sobbing now, his ragged breaths mingling together with your own on that quiet night.

His grip on you was tight, as if he thought that if he let go, you would disappear. So he clung onto you with all his might to keep you there with him as he recalled the horrific events.

“That's what broke me. I was so disgusted with myself. I hated myself. And he- he saw everything and- and laughed. He laughed so hard, I thought he was going to choke and die. I’ve never seen him laugh like that. And I remember every single fucking moment of being helpless on that fucking floor while he- fuck. Fuck.”

“And then he left. He left me on the floor bleeding and I never saw him again. And I went fucking insane. I tried to kill myself so many fucking times. So many times, I lost count. That’s what I dream about every night. His laughs, and his ‘Jason, Jason, Jason’.”

And that was that. That was the story.

The end of Jason Todd.

The both of you cried long and hard that night in each other’s arms. Eventually, you both lied down on the pillows together, underneath the covers.

“Please don’t tell Bruce,” he whispered to you.

Your head was on his chest, his big arms wrapped around your waist, your legs tangled with his.

You smiled at that. Even with the trauma, even with the sense of abandonment he felt, he still wanted to protect Bruce from knowing the truth.

Because the both of you knew that the truth would kill him.

“I promise,” you whispered back.

And then the both of you fell asleep together.

***

“Has Jason been sleeping in your room with you?” Bruce asked you on one fine Saturday morning at breakfast.

It had been about a week and a half since the first time Jason knocked on your door and poured out his feelings to you.

“He gets nightmares,” you tried to explain.

He thought that if he told you everything, the nightmares would stop. But it didn’t. But he then realised that the only thing that made it better was sleeping by your side, having someone there to wake him up from living his own hell in a loop.

“And do the two of you… Just sleep?” Bruce frowned.

“Yes!” you widen your eyes in horror at the insinuation. “Bruce! Come on!”

“I know you have feelings for him, and I’m sure he does for you as well. But I don’t think something like that is what Jason needs right now,” he stated.

“Yes, I know!” you groaned at the thought having that kind of conversation with him, “Jesus, Bruce. I know. I’m just there to wake him up or help him fall back asleep. Nothing more.”

Bruce nodded, deep in thought. “Has he… told you? About what happened?”

You pursed your lips. “Yes.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” his frown went deeper. “I understand. He will tell me when he is ready.”

“Exactly,” you smiled, hiding the fact that Jason may never tell Bruce what happened. Never the full story.

“He still hasn’t left the manor?”

“No,” you sighed, “I asked him if he wanted some fresh air. Just outside the main door, not even going down the steps. But he refused. Told me to, and I quote, ‘Fuck off’.”

“Well, he’s only just left the cave, and it’s just to your room,” Bruce thought out loud, “It’s still progress. Especially since he’s been talking to you about the past.”

“He only spoke about it one time,” you said, “And then never again.”

“I see,” he hummed, “And you’re okay with him sleeping with you?”

“Next to me, Bruce, sleeping next to me,” you corrected.

“Yes, and you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” you assured him, “I can kick him out any time I want- but I don’t want to. He looks like a lost puppy sometimes.”

“An angry lost puppy.”

You chuckled at that and couldn’t agree more.

*** While Jason got the sleep he needed when he was next to you, it was counterproductive on your end. You had never been with anyone before, and definitely had not slept on the same bed with another man.

So to feel his body heat and breaths against your skin, his occasional light snores, it made your mind go on hyperdrive.

Most of the time, the two of you would just lie down, your back against his front, or your backs against each other, or both on your backs just staring at the ceiling- and talked. You would be the one talking the most, of course, about anything you could think of. You would tell him about your day, your patrols, something you read about online, or the current news.

But that one particular night during week three of him sleeping next to you, the two of you were silent. It wasn’t an awkward or uncomfortable silence, but the kind of silence that was pleasant and was better described as a peaceful quiet.

You had your back pressed against his front and his arm was lazily draped over your waist. It was a cold night, and you were wearing just a tank top and pyjama shorts, snuggling under the covers that went up all the way to your nose.

Shifting a bit while snuggling comfortably, you pressed yourself against Jason’s body to get more of his heat. But then, you were met with something poking against your lower back.

“Ngh, please ignore that,” Jason huffed.

Oh.

For some reason, you forgot that Jason was a physically healthy male who was capable of having sexual thoughts and feelings. All this while, you thought you were the only one.

“Are you- uh- is that- uh-” you stuttered, feeling your face flush with heat.

Feeling your body suddenly alert with excitement.

“Yes, it’s my fucking penis,” he grit almost angrily, “What, never heard of an erection before?”

“Of course I have!” you argued rather defensively, “It’s just- I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Why?” he demanded, “You didn’t think I could get it up or something?”

“No, of course not!” you denied, “It just didn’t cross my mind, that’s all.”

A pause. Then-

“Well,” he sighed, “You wouldn’t have been wrong.”

Your mind blanked for a second.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly.

“It’s my- fuck- it’s my first time,” he confessed.

“Your first time getting an erection?” you gasped.

“No, you idiot,” he snapped, “It’s my first time getting hard since… since… then.”

Oh. Oh, you were an idiot.

“It’s just- after that- even when I was downstairs, alone and safe, I- I couldn’t,” he told you, “I kept on thinking back to that time and- and I couldn’t. I found it disgusting.”

And immediately, like someone doused you in cold water, any feeling of horniness you had when you first felt his erection against you disappeared. You just felt so sad for him, but also angry. Angry that he had to go through all of that, and angrier that there was nothing you could do about it.

“So, why do you think you’re getting it now?” you asked. Perhaps talking about it in an objective manner would help guide him through his thought process.

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffed, “You’re fucking pressing your ass against my dick, what did you think would happen?”

“Wait, what?” your eyes widen, “You’re hard because of me?”

“No shit,” he said, “You’re hardly wearing any clothes, too.”

You shouldn’t feel happy due to the circumstance and context, but there you were ecstatic that he found you attractive enough to pop a boner after so long.

“Fuck,” he sighed, suddenly pressing himself closer to you.

His hand that draped over your waist when to actually grip it. Then, then, he grinded his hard on against your ass.

“Mmm,” he rumbled deeply, “Feels good.”

There. That was it. You were once again flooded with the feeling of heat that pooled at your stomach, a tingling sensation started at your core. Feeling hot despite the low temperature of the night, you clenched your thighs together, needing the slight pressure.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he grinded on you again, and then unexpectedly let out a chuckle.

“What is it?” you smiled, loving it whenever you heard him laugh.

“I thought… For the longest time, I thought I was broken. That he broke me,” he revealed, “I thought I needed to get all Wingardium Leviosa on this little fucker.”

“Oh my God,” you laughed and groaned at the same time, “You’re so fucking embarassing.”

He laughed along with you and continued. “But now I’m hard and- and horny. You made me feel like I’m normal again. Like I’m sixteen again, and getting horny over everything.”

Sometimes, we take the normal things for granted. Food, shelter, clothes. In this case, it was a goddamned boner. In a way, Jason’s erection was symbolic- however funny it sounded. Getting your sexual appetite and need back after being so traumatised was a massive leap for many people who had experienced the same thing.

It meant that Jason was healing well.

“Does that make you happy?” you asked.

“Not particularly,” he admitted, “But I’m definitely not sad either.”

“That’s good enough for now, then,” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

Another few moments of silence. You could feel it, his cock pushing into you. However tempted you were to push back and grind, you held yourself still.

“Uh, Jason?” you voiced.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to like, take care of it?” you asked, “I mean. My bathroom is available. Or- there are many empty rooms.”

“No,” he simply stated.

“No?”

“No.”

“It’s kinda poking into me.”

“Just ignore it.”

“Ignore it?” you gaped, “How can I ignore it? You’re literally pressing it into my ass.”

“Well, then do you want to take care of it?” he teased.

You couldn’t argue back. “Fine, I’ll ignore it.”

He chuckled. “I’ll turn around.”

When he made the movement, you suddenly grabbed him by the wrist. “No, it’s fine. Stay here.”

You expected him to tease you like he usually would, make a crass comment, or even a ‘fuck off’.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around you again in silence, and the both of you drifted to sleep.

***

“Do you think this color suits me?” Natalie asked, holding up a floral red dress.

The four of you were at the mall in Diamond District. Now that high school was over, and everyone would be going off to separate colleges in a few months, you tried to spend time with each other as much as you could.

“Any color suits you, Nat,” you rolled your eyes, “You’re hot stuff.”

“Jesus, it’s like you’re shoving it in our faces at this point,” Sarah added, flipping her brunette hair to the side, tight curls flowing down.

“Aw, you guys,” Nat pretended to tear up, “I’m gonna miss you guys so much!”

“Not again,” Alex groaned, “We’ve been through this so many times.”

“I’m gonna be so miserable without you guys,” Natalie continued on, ignoring Alex’s interruption.

“I don’t know,” Sarah shrugged, “I think I’d enjoy New York. I can have pizza parties with the rats in my overpriced apartment.”

You chuckled at Sarah’s joke. Everyone was leaving Gotham except you. Deciding to continue with Robin, you opted for Gotham University- prestigious, old, and most importantly, close to home.

Your phone dinged in your pocket. You opened it to find texts from Dick.

Dick: OH MY GOD. Dick: I’m at the Manor. Dick: Was going to the Cave gym to work out. Dick: AND Dick: JASON IS HERE!!! WHAT DO I DO?!?!

That was new. Jason would usually just use whatever basic equipment he had in his room to work out. The fact that he was at the Cave’s sparring area where all the other fancier work out equipment were was out of the ordinary.

You: Just go. See if he reacts. If he suddenly stiffens and just stay there not doing anything, then leave. If he continues on, then it’s okay to stay- but don’t initiate anything! Dick: OKOKOK

You waited anxiously for Dick’s update. All four of you were now walking towards the food court, but you hardly listened to their bickering. Forty-five minutes passed before Dick texted you again.

Dick: OMG HE TALKED TO ME You: What did he say? Dick: He asked me to pass him his towel. You: That’s all he said? Dick: IT’S PROGRESS OKAY!!

Dick was right. It meant that Dick was now the third person Jason had spoken to. Adding another person to his list of contacts was definitely progress.

You were happy for him.

You:Is he still there? Dick: Nah he left Dick: But WOW he’s looking good. He must have been really going at it. I think he might get bigger than me soon You: All he does now is work out. He’s obsessed. Dick: Yeah I can tell

You decided to leave it at that for now and try to concentrate on your friends, but Dick sent another message.

Dick: ARE YOU TWO HAVING SEX?!?!

You spat out your drink, earning weird looks from everyone.

You: DICK!!!! WTF NO!!

Dick never replied.

***

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Jason asked, his voice breaking the silence of your dark room. The two of you were on your bed, lying down and staring at the ceiling.

“Of course,” you said. It didn’t matter to you what Jason asks for. He hardly ever asked for anything.

“Could you… Take me out tomorrow?” he requested, “If you’re not doing anything else, that is.”

“Uh, sure!” you nodded, surprised. “Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, okay,” you hesitated, “But- are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to go so far so quickly. Maybe you should start with just going to the backyard?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I’m not a kid.”

“Okay then,” you agreed. “Tomorrow.”

You kept on glancing anxiously at him the next day as he climbed into the passenger seat of your car. He was quiet, but looked perfectly fine.

Switching the engine on, you drove out of the garage and out the large automatic gates. Trees soon surrounded the lonely road on both sides as you descended downhill into town.

“So where are we going?” he asked.

“I thought Robinson Park would be nice,” you said. It was around three in the afternoon, yet Gotham was dark as though the day was ending. It was cloudy, skies grey and wind blowing.

“You’re taking me to a park?” he scoffed.

“It’s more quiet than anywhere else,” you reasoned with him, “Less people. Spacious. Lots of greenery.”

“Whatever.”

Reaching the parking space of the park, you noticed that there were a few cars. Mothers and nannies liked to bring children out to the park around that time. Joggers and teens, college students and retired elderly seeking a little escape from the high rise buildings of concrete and glass.

You turned the engine off and proceeded to open the door, only then noticing Jason stiffening. Looking over to him, you saw that his eyebrows were pulled down in a deep frown, his jaw clenched, his hands in fists on his knees.

You didn’t say anything or make any comment. Leaning back into your seat, you waited until Jason was ready.

About five minutes passed before he took a deep breath, gave you a nod, and then opened his door.

The two of you walked along a path at the park, going deeper inside and further away from your car. There were a few joggers around, some tourists, and some teens taking photos. You saw a group of kids in the distance playing frisbee, and the others were walking their dogs.

An empty bench stood in the middle of the park, overlooking a clearing. You headed there, Jason following closely behind.

“It’s a bit gloomy today,” you pouted, “As if Gotham could be anything other than that, of course.”

You looked at Jason.

He looked like a scared dog being brought out for the first time.

His jittery knees were bouncing rapidly, his wide eyes were darting at every movement, his forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and his breathing was heavy.

“Woah, woah,” you reached out to him, putting an arm on his back. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just listen to me talk, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he gulped.

“Try to calm your breathing,” you instructed, “Deep breaths, Jason. In… out… In… Out… Yeah, see that’s great.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, now calmer. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled warmly, “You’re doing just fine.”

“No, I’m not,” he strained, “I feel like everything is too big. Too vast. The fucking sky looks like it’s going to crash down on me and at the same time suck me up into a void.”

“And despite all you’re feeling right now, you’re not breaking down or anything, are you?” you tried, “You’re okay, Jason. This is progress.”

“I guess,” he sighed, “I’m just- I’m so used to having four walls and a ceiling. Now everything feels too big.”

“I understand,” you empathized, “Whenever you want to go back, just say the word. Or we can even just go and sit in the car. No problem.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s do that,” he stood up.

The walk back to the car was faster.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

“No, you’re not,” you reassured him, “That was great, Jason. Come on, it was your first time outside in two years and a half. Cut yourself some slack.”

“I’m so fucking broken,” he choked.

“Don’t say that,” you scolded, “You’re not broken. And you know what, even if you think you are, we can always fix it. Baby steps. Maybe we can do this once a week. We were out for like, ten minutes? Next week we’ll try fifteen. How’s that sound?”

“Twice a week,” he stated, “I just want to be normal again.”

“Okay, twice a week, then,” you agreed, “We’ll try again in a couple of days, okay?”

“Okay,” he paused, “Thank you.”

“No problemo,” you grinned, “Would you like to stay here a bit longer or shall we go back?”

“Let’s go back.”

“Wanna stop by the diner? You can wait in the car while I ask for a take-away?”

“...okay.”

***

Jason and you had gone out twice more. Once three days after the first time, and the other a week later. The second time he went out, he lasted twenty minutes, though you were sure he was being stubborn on his part. He looked like he was having a heart attack, but he insisted on staying until he hit the twenty minute mark.

The third time, he was much much better. Surprisingly so. The two of you sat down on that bench for half an hour, with you even leaving him alone for a few minutes to get two ice cream cones.

After that, you took him for a drive around the city. He seemed to be more comfortable in the car, so you went all the way from Robinson Park to Diamond District, and back to the manor.

Bruce seemed very pleased with your update, and you swore you could see him actually smile.

“Thank you,” he had told you. “You’ve done more than I could have ever asked of you.”

“It’s no problem, Bruce. Really,” you reassured him.

“I’m his father. He is my responsibility. It’s my fault he’s even in that state. I wish I could do more for him,” he said solemnly.

“The fact that you understand what he needs is more than helpful, Bruce,” you smiled, “Not many parents can do that. You understand and respect him. That’s enough for now.”

He simply nodded.

Ever since your scheduled outings, Jason had become more and more relaxed whenever he was in the manor. He now walked to the kitchen on occasion to mess with Alfred while he cooked meals for him, sometimes sitting in the living room lounging on the couch while reading. Most of the time, though, he was down at the sparring zone of the Cave, working out.

But at night, he would never fail to knock on your door.

And at that particular night, you found yourself in the same situation again while lying down on your side with your back to his front, for the fifth time.

“You officially have to stop calling yourself broken,” you grumbled, “Because that thing poking into my ass is definitely not broken.”

He chuckled lowly. “You complaining, sweetheart?”

Oh, and yes. Jason now had started calling you ‘sweetheart’. Why? You had no clue. It was just a thing that happened. The look on your face when he first slipped it in was probably a sight to behold.

“No shit, I’m complaining, Jason,” you groaned, “You haven’t jerked off, yet? Not even once?”

“Nope,” he popped the P, “I just… I don’t want to… I don’t want to come.”

You sighed, understanding the situation. He had been disgusted with himself because he had ejaculated when Joker… Well, that. You hated to even think about it, so you always shoved the thought away.

“But unfortunately for me, I still get super horny,” he rumbled deeply, pushing his hips into you even more, “So fucking horny.”

“And then I have to suffer,” you complained.

“I can assure you, blue balls are more painful than something poking into you,” he bickered.

“It’s not that…”

“Then?”

“I get horny too, come on man,” you whined, “I’m a hormonal teenage girl. What did you expect?”

“You get horny too?” he whispered after a pause.

“Uh, yeah,” you admitted nervously. Somehow, the mood shifted, and your heart started drumming against your chest.

“Because of me?” he asked.

“Not you specifically, I mean,” you tried to back track, “You’re… Your dick pressing up against me like that, I mean, come on, Jason.”

“Simple question sweetheart,” he told you, “You get horny because of me, yes or no?”

You gulped. “Yes.”

Fuck, why did you say yes? You could have lied. You could have not answered.

“Yeah?” he breathed. You noticed that his hand was now on your hip, right above the waistband of your sleeping shorts, drawing circles onto your skin with his thumb.

You were nervous. The butterflies in your tummy was not helping you calm down.

“Yeah,” you squeezed your eyes shut, as if to protect yourself from anything he had to say.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping your hips and grinding his hard on against your ass even more. And did it… Fuck, did it get even harder?

Afraid of saying the wrong thing, and also out of nervousness, you remained silent. Jason’s chest rose and fall against your back, his respiratory rate increasing. His pinky finger slid underneath the waistband, testing the waters before slowly slipping his hand into your pants.

He went in so slowly, as if waiting for you to tell him no, to rip his hand away, to wrench yourself away from him. But you never did, so he went in deeper, caressing the skin beneath your pelvic bone, his heat just burning into you.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he commented, voice suddenly husky.

“I don’t wear them to bed,” you informed him.

“You mean to tell me,” he growled, “That all this while I’ve been sleeping next to you and you never had your panties on?”

“It’s more comfortable that way,” you mumbled.

“Jesus Christ,” he cursed. “Thank God I never knew. Would have been torture, and trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Jason,” you gasped.

“It’s true,” he said, “Damn, sweetheart.”

He went lower, closer to your center.

Your core was tingly, small pulses of electricity buzzed through your body as Jason came closer and closer and closer and-

He slipped his hands between your closed thighs and cupped you.

“Mmm,” he moaned softly, “Warm. Fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” you laughed, even though you felt like screaming on the inside. Screaming for more.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, burying his face into your nape, taking a deep breath. “You smell nice.”

Oh, shit. You totally forgot about Jason’s aversion to strong smells.

“I’m sorry!” you quickly apologised, “I can switch to an unscented shampoo as well so it wouldn’t be too strong for you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, “I like it on you.”

He ground his hand into your center harder.

“Mmpf, Jay,” you breathed, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’ve never touched a girl like this before.”

“Really?” you widen your eyes in surprise.

“I was kept in a cell for two years, I couldn’t exactly talk, let alone touch, anyone can I?” he quipped.

“Right.”

“Teach me,” he said.

“What?” you whispered despite knowing what he meant.

A pause of silence. A deep intake of breath, a slow exhale.

“Teach me how to touch you,” he purred.

Fuck, you felt like exploding.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes. If you… If you want to.”

Your mind quickly tried to analyse the situation. Bruce had specifically said that Jason didn’t need any complicated matters in the relationship. It made sense. You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason with any confusion or uncertainty.

But at the same time, you’ve been figuring out how Jason thought, bit by bit. He’s told you many times that he just wanted to be normal again, to feel normal, to do normal things. And this was something that was normal, that he should do, that he wanted to do.

And you knew that he probably would take the rejection even worse.

“O-Okay,” you agreed.

Slowly, you separated your thighs, raising the one on top and hooking it over his legs behind you. Due to your shift in position, you felt the minute Jason’s fingers dip slightly into your folds.

“So, uh, this is my first time with a guy as well,” you squeaked, “But I’ll try to guide you.”

You licked your lips.

“Uhm, well, I guess you can start by running a finger up and down between my- oh! Yes, just like that.”

His middle finger slid down to your opening, and then up again slowly. His movements were uncertain, brushing only slightly against your clit unintentionally.

It was different, having someone else touch you. Somehow, despite the inexperience, it just felt better.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, “You’re so fucking wet. Do you usually get this wet?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “No? Yes? I don’t know! I can’t feel it.”

“Shit.”

You let him play with you some more, his fingers sliding up and down, sometimes pressing against your fleshy parts, sometimes circling and gathering your wetness, sometimes just parting your lips. Hell, he even tapped the tips of his fingers on you randomly or brushed into your delicate fuzz. You knew he was just exploring, feeling you for the first time.

And that thought made you smile and sigh.

“Teach me how to make you feel good,” he rasped.

“Uh, so your fingers are wet, right?”

“Yeah. Because you’re leaking all over them.”

“Okay, good. Now find my clit. It’s slightly above your finger, okay, to the left a bit. More. Okay, there! Yeah, right there,” you sighed, finally feeling that delicious pressure.

“Here?”

He tapped your clit.

“Ah!” you moaned, “Yes- but don’t just- nevermind, just gently circle it. Clockwise.”

He obeyed, and hell since when did Jason just obey?

He circled you gently, like you said. But he also went so, so slow.

“Faster, Jay,” you panted.

He went faster, making you groan in pleasure.

“Like this, sweetheart?” he muttered, his voice low and cracking, and sexy, and husky. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and it drove you wild.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “Yeah, just like that. Fuck.”

“Feel good?”

“So good, Jay. Press a little harder now- fuck. Fuck. Yes, perfect. Just like that.”

The pressure built as his fingers did their magic.

“You- you’re surprisingly good at that,” you stuttered, “You sure- mmm- you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Despite what you think,” he husked in your ear, warm breath tickling you. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“I can see that.”

“But I’m also good at improvising.”

“Wha- oh. Oh. Fuck! Jason! Oh my fucking god!”

He started pressing even harder, and going even faster, throwing away the slow build you were going for and instead pushing you towards orgasm fast and hard, as if he was determined to prove something to you.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” he purred, “You gonna come soon?”

“Oh my- fuck, yes! Fuck, don’t stop!”

“You want to come for me?” his deep voice rumbled.

“Yes!”

What the hell? When did he learn how to talk like that?

Because with the mix of his heavy pants, his low voice coaxing you, his barrage of pleasure at your clit, you felt the familiar tightening of your core. You threw one hand back and found his hair. Running your fingers through them, you gripped them tight and pulled.

You pulled on his hair as he forced the orgasm onto you.

“Oh my God. Jason, I’m gonna- fuck- I’m- fuck- ah!”

You moaned loudly as you felt your walls flutter, clenching over nothing as you reached your high.

“O-okay, stop, fuck,” your hand went from his hair to his wrist, stilling him. He withdrew his hands from your pants, and went to grip you tight again by the waist.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he groaned, grinding into you. You pushed your ass back, feeling his hardened length against your flesh in your post-orgasm bliss. “Jesus, that was so hot.”

“That was- yeah,” you giggled, “Fuck.”

His face was still buried in your neck. You could feel his lips on your skin.

“Uhm, I can, you know,” you sputtered, “Try to help you out?”

“It’s fine,” he breathed, body still tight against yours, “Just go to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked again, feeling guilty that he didn’t get off. “I don’t mind.”

“I do,” he said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. That was great. I enjoyed that. I told you, I don’t want to come.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Go to bed.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Fuck, I’m so horny.”

“Jason,” you whined, “Really, I can help-”

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, “Goodnight.”

You pursed your lips.

“Goodnight.”

[shhhlikeme]

I ALMOST NEVER SEE ANYONE WRITE ABOUT ARAN SO IM JUMPING IN- ;-; Can I ask for his girl helping him relieve some stress, massaging him and his hands then just a nice cuddle session after..? also Ive been shy to hop in but hi you're pretty and Id love to be friends with you ;-;

UMMM A BIG ACCOUNT LIKE YOURS THAT JUST REACHED 1.25K followers (congrats beb!!) peeps my work ?? And compliments me + gave me my first Aran requestttt ?!

*faints*

I feel like this is a proposal and the answer is YES boo 💍🥰 friendssss 🥺🤗

Anyway I hope you like it newest friend💞

————————————

Some Aran Ojiro x Reader Romance 😩🌹

————————————

you and your boyfriend Aran haven’t been able to see eachother much in the past year at all

He just made the Japan National Team which meant he was practicing and travelling all the time

You two keep up with nightly Facetime dates every night which is great but he almost always falls asleep on you in the first 20 minutes

sleepy muffin that we love so much

You don’t blame him considering his training regimen.

When he wakes up he’s literally talking your ear off apologizing because he feels like a shit boyfriend for falling asleep every time

“I did it again and I know you say it’s fine but it’s not. I’m so sorry Y/N. When I get home, I promise I’ll make it up to you baby girl, I promise. Have a great day Queen and remember I’ll be home to spoil you in 10 days. You’re not ready. I love you! Peace!”

As you lay in your empty bed the next morning, you just smile at the video of him apologizing to you while he is running around his hotel room to get ready for morning practice

Your man works so hard but he never fails to make sure he’s the first thing you see when you wake up and the last person you see before you fall asleep. It’s endearing

He is super super busy being a professional athlete but that doesn’t stop him from making you feel special in the little and big ways

Sometimes, he orders you breakfast or dinner from your favourite brunch or sushi spot that you two like to go to so that he can put a smile on your face when he’s travelling

All he asks in return is a cute selfie of you in your pjs and messy bun with the food and that is the only thank you he needs

Seriously send it though or he’ll spam your phone lol

Can I tell you a funny story related to your mans sweet foodie gestures?

Okay so One random night last weekend.....

You heard a knock on the door of your condo and you quickly paused your Netflix movie to dust the popcorn crumbs off Aran’s t-shirt you were wearing

You opened the door excitedly thinking it might be another Uber Eats surprise from your boyfriend but instead you see a grumpy looking Osamu standing in the delivery guys place

“Your boyfriend is annoying.” Osamu deadpanned as he glanced at you once before letting himself in.

“Uh, Nice to see you.....too, Osamu-san.”

Samu murmured something in response grumpily and went over to your kitchen island to place down a large brown paper bag.

“Stupid professional volleyball playing friend and brother,” He muttered under his breath. You watched him take out lots of food from his restaurant from your spot by the door, by the look (and amazing smell) of it the bag was packed with all your favourites. You were thrilled even though the grey haired boy in your kitchen wasn’t.

“Look at me! I’m Aran. My stupid Uber Eats app won’t work from mutant-spider Australia so instead of just chilling like a normal person I call and beg my very handsome and very successful restaurant-owner friend to make my girlfriend all her favourite dishes and drive them over in the middle of a rain storm. A rain storm!”

You held your ground back at the door (knowing good and well not to get in the way of Samu when he was in one of his signature bitchy moods) as a smile crept on your face. It felt like someone was squeezing your heart as you watched Osamu comfortably rummage through your cabinets and find your dishes. He plated your food beautifully like the professional chef he is, all while mumbling angrily under his breath about his quote unquote “Simp of a best friend.”

When he was done with the food, Osamu also pulled out a bottle of your favourite wine from his restaurant that only Aran knows about and poured you a glass perfectly, swaying the liquid around first to make sure it was rich. Satisfied but still annoyed, Osamu cleaned his restaurant’s paper bag contents away and then walked over to your spot on the couch to take a handful of popcorn. Still a grump, he met you back at the door.

Samu looked down at you with the irritated expression you’ve become accustomed to over the years.

“Aran also told me to give you this.” He deadpanned before leaning down to kiss the top off your head then left. You smiled, unable to stop bubbling over in giggles because you knew Aran just added that to annoy his affection-challenged best friend. You poked your head out to the hallway of your condo building, seeing Osamu’s retreating figure you sang:

“Thank you, Samuuuuuu! 🎶”

Effectively adding to his annoyance just like your boyfriend would have wanted you to.

Without looking back, Osamu just lifted up a cool peace sign that your boyfriend and the two brothers were notorious for.

That trio, man.

dinner that night was the best you’ve had in forever

Not only was it delicious but

You realized that very night that your boyfriend was the most remarkable human in the world and you didn’t deserve him

You checked your phone as you sipped your wine because you received several texts from your boy asking where his picture of you eating is and also asking how funny Samu’s reaction was

You giggled as you read the text and then you had an idea! 💡

You put down your phone and quickly changed into some lacy lingerie for the picture:

Your boyfriend always asked for simple ‘rates PG’ pics because he loved to see you bare faced and wearing his big clothes. It was so cute to him.

he would make each new picture you sent his two backgrounds on his phone and he relished in the fact that you were so beautiful when you didn’t try

You knew this, but you also knew that your man deserved a little ‘sumn sumn’ for making tonight so special for you 😉

You put on a little sultry makeup to go with your sexy number and went back to the kitchen to your food and wine

You took a much sexier picture than he would ever expect

Actually you chose to send him a boomerang:

one of your hair slightly disheveled and your tits basically out despite the lacy cover. You pressed the wine glass to your red lips and winked in the boomerang, wiggling your hips ever so seductively

•••

in a luxurious hotel in Australia, your stunning boyfriend just finished his shower in his hotel room

He dried his face with a towel and opened his iMessage app on his phone... effectively ignoring the:

“🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼it’s done.🖕🏼🖕🏼🖕🏼”

text from his best friend Osamu and clicking your name instead

Aran swiped left on his phone hoping to see another cute picture of his girlfriend being sent to him that makes his day the brightest but what he actually sees instead almost makes him drop his phone out of his wet hands

No Deadass he almost dropped it! it slipped out of his hands 4 times

His heart beating because of his phone but mostly because you were the finest woman he’s ever seen, he replays your sexy boomerang 30 times, literally engraving every detail about you into his mind. If his teammates weren’t so nosy he’d love to make what you just sent him his background on his phone......but that wouldn’t work

He really treasured you and what you sent though. For Aran, the next 9 days at this Global Tournament could not go by fast enough.

Aran’s never asked for naughty pictures from you not once because he doesn’t want you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with, but seeing that you did it on your own, of course it made him want to skip his National game tomorrow just to fly back and make love to you all night then rub your back the way you like until you fell asleep

Mans is in LOVE, you feel me?

He wanted to show you just how treasured you are for sticking by his side through all this travelling shit. He wanted you to always know you were his queen even if he was miles away

So, by you sending this sexy Boomerang and treating him like a King even though you didn’t have to, your man fell even harder for you

He had so much planned when he came home like always: spoil you with a shopping trip with your girls, a romantic spa trip for you both and a trip to the amusement park, but it seemed so far away now

Frowning, Aran texted you back a paragraph telling you how beautiful you are and how lucky he was to have you in his life for a plethora of reasons

He Facetime’d you for the expected classic 20 minutes while you wore that lingerie BUT he actually stayed up for 36 minutes because he was fighting sleep like a damn boxer. He wanted to see you... but of course his fatigue got the better of him and he fell asleep with a big smile on his face because you whispered goodnight

•••

the next day, after sleeping in, Aran woke up for his first tournament game and did all of his pre-game rituals which included calling you, and his best friends Kita & the twins.

He proceeded to his 6:00pm game as planned in the grand court of Sydney.

Aran sweetly signed autographs and Jerseys with his name on it that fans and little kids eagerly presented to him before and after the game that they had won.

“Mr. Ran’! Mr. ‘Ran! Volleybwall is my most favouritest sport to pway , too! Can I have hug???” Asked a particularly bouncy little African-Australian girl in the crowd. Aran glances at the dad for permission and upon granting Aran nodded kindly and picked up the toddler so she was propped up on his hip. The girl wrapped her miniature arms around the big volleyball star’s neck and squeezed tightly. Aran chuckled in his deep voice, exclaiming an “Ow! You’re a strong one, aren’t you? A future Ace for sure.” The little girl gasped at her idols words and hugged him harder. The dad had to literally rip her out of Ojiro’s arms because she didn’t want to let go.

“Don’t break the volleyball player, honey. They’re sore.” Said the father to his daughter.

Aran reached in his gym bag to collect a clean tournament shirt from his bag and handed it to the hysterically crying little girl. “Sore is an understatement. But....here, ‘future Ace.’ When you make the National Women’s Team and I’m the one at one of your games, maybe you can give it back to me.”

The little girl’s whole life was made as she immediately stopped crying and smiled widely, hugging the shirt close to her chest as if it might disappear if she let go.

Because he was a teddy bear and wanted to sign as many kids memorabilia as possible, plus give the youth encouraging messages....Aran usually stayed an hour or two later than the other players after their away games. Telling his teammates to go on ahead back to their hotel without him

HE’S PERFECT 😩

Sore as hell and more tired than ever after his big games, he picked up his phone to call you on his way back to the hotel

He loved hearing your voice it was so soothing to him

No answer. He tried 5 times.

Thinking you were probably working hard from home, Ojiro dragged his feet past the hotel concierge and used all of his slumped body weight to push open the door to his hotel room.

He didn’t remember it being this dark in here or even shutting off the lights when he left, but being too tired to care he dropped his huge bag on the floor, gripping his aching shoulder as he took one step to the right to flip on the lights

When he did, he had to rub his sleepy eyes because he couldn’t believe what he saw

“Y-Y/N?!”

Standing in the middle of his hotel room, you smiled brightly and ran to your boyfriend, wrapping your legs around his waist in a koala hug. You wore that lacy number you used in the picture you sent him last night. Your man stumbled back from the impact and overall surprise but once he was stable he hugged you back tightly.

“Oh my God, you look incredible, what-what are you doing here?!” He asked, still in disbelief.

You pecked his lips and jumped down. “After last night I missed you so much. So I just called into work, booked a 9-hour direct flight and now I’m here! I’m staying for the rest of the tournament. Hi, handsome!!!!” You had so much happiness and light in your eyes that it literally woke up your boyfriend by contentment, even though he was just on the verge of collapsing on his bed from fatigue minutes ago.

He grabbed your face softly in his large hands and tilted your head up towards his to give you a proper kiss, letting you know how happy he was through the kiss.

You pulled away. “Whoa! Someone’s happy to see me!” You poked his tummy.

“An understatement—Wait, what is that?” Finally looking away from your face for the first time since he entered his room, Aran looked behind you in awe. There was a rather large massage table set up in the centre of his suite.

“Oh, that old thing?!” You questioned playfully as you jogged over to the big table and showcased it with your hands like a Wheel of Fortune prize girl. “I tried to book a massage for you for tomorrow because I know you always forget, but they were all booked obviously so I just asked the guy downstairs—after name dropping you—if they could bring this up and they had no problem with it!”

Aran looked at you incredulously so you continued. “Lay down, babe. I know you must be sore after your game. I ordered food for you too but they said it will be up here in an hour and a half. So, I’ll get out some of your kinks now, we’ll eat, and then I can massage you more until you fall asleep.”

Aran couldn’t believe this was happening.

“But you just got off a flight, Y/N! You must be tired, too! I couldn’t possibly—“

You gave your boyfriend your best Osamu impression with your seriously annoyed frown. “Aran. You do everything in your power to make sure that I’m feeling more than amazing every single day even when you are halfway across the world. So now since I’m a mere halfway across the room, I want to do this for you. Please. Let me return the favour.”

Feeling too tired to bicker and knowing you meant business, your big man gave in. He removed his shirt when you asked and settled face down on the comfortable table.

You put on some soft r&b and took out the essential oils you bought from the spa and began to give your man a sensual but remarkable rub down, taking immense care in soothing his muscle pain in his legs and back

You listened for his groans when you reached particularly sensitive spots on his back and spent a lot more time in those areas

When you were massaging his shoulders you made sure to lean down every few minutes to kiss the side of his neck and Aran would sigh in delight every time.

“Y/N. I know you want to get all of my kinks out and trust me this feels amazing, but, if you keep kissing me dressed like that I’ll stop this massage to make love to you on this table. Okay?”

You giggled and smacked his booty.

“Kay.” 😇

When the food came, you and Aran opted to sit on the couch and eat, feeding eachother and kissing and just being all cute n shit—🙄

A/N: Can you tell how jealous I am?

After dinner and your night routines, you told your baby to give you his hands in bed.

you lotioned them in between your smaller ones and gave him a long, much desired, kneading hand massage in the pitch black room until he was on the verge of falling asleep.

“I love you, Y/N.” whispered Ojiro, his deep voice slower because he was half asleep. “Please be here when I wake up....” He whispered before succumbing to a deep slumber.

You stopped your massage, kissed both of his hands and cuddled into his warm body.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, Aran.” You closed your eyes too, feeling sleep wash over you as well.... “I’ll always be here.”

[happytsukki]

common sense

k. tsukishima

you were a fool. but only for tsukishima. (f! reader)

a/n: ive been reading the manga and chapters 370+ literally have me bawling, im so emotionally attached. also fun fact you cant get your drivers license in japan till you graduate high school,,big rip for (y/n) and her food.

someone with common sense would’ve ran home to avoid the predicted forecast. they would’ve enjoyed safely arriving home without getting a single drop of rain on their uniform. but you lacked common sense.

the steady beat of raindrops hitting the ground accompanied by a strong gust of wind greeted you as you exited the school. you stood waiting, a bright green umbrella painted with purple triceratops in one hand while you rocked back and forth on your heels.

“what are you still doing here?” a voice suddenly asked, snapping you out of your trance. looking up you locked eyes with tsukishima causing a champagne pink hue to creep onto your cheeks.

“oh, i-uh, knew you didn’t have an umbrella, so i figured i would wait for you and we could walk together,” you beamed. tsukishima rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses, but you swore you could see the corners of his lips curl up.

you knew tsukishima. you knew he hated the rain and deep down, he appreciated your kind gesture even if he didn’t say it.

he grabbed the umbrella in your hand and opened it outside the safety of the building. he took two steps into the rain before turning around to realize you were still frozen on the steps of karasuno high. there you were, an idiot shivering from head to toe in the cold weather, yet you still had a smile painted across your face.

“are you gonna just stand there or are you actually coming?” he muttered, his eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion.

“coming!!” you cooed before running down the steps and practicing colliding with him as you pressed closer to him under the tiny umbrella. maybe you should’ve packed a bigger umbrella, but you definitely weren’t complaining.

you walked in unison, small drops falling onto your sweater as you could barely fit under the umbrella with the beanpole. you took notice of one hand tucked away in the warmth of his jacket and the other clutching the umbrella for the two of you. and with your warm gloves, you placed a hand over his.

“sorry, your hand seemed a little cold” you blurted out, slightly afraid he would take his hand away in disgust. but he didn’t, he let you hold his hand. you could finally release the breath you were holding and smiled. rainy days never felt good. the sky may have been dark and gloomy, but being with him felt as if it was another spring day, the sun beaming brightly and the birds chirping.

your walk consisted of asking tsukishima about his volleyball club season and him asking about your classes. you wanted to amuse him, to hear his laugh just once, so you told him the story of how you went to school thinking you math test only to find it was actually an english test, receiving a grade no higher than your age.

and miraculously, he laughed. it was subtle and quiet, but it took away your breath and made your heart race.

tsukishima halted, finally arriving at his home. he glanced up at the sky before catching it slowly transform from a color to a baby blue.

“it stopped raining—“ you cut him off midsentence, grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him closer before you placed a quick peck on his lips.

“bye!” you shouted as you ran away. leaving poor tsukishima standing there, dumbfounded as to why his heart was beating so fast and why his knees turned into complete jelly.

you liked tsukishima. and luckily, he liked you too.

someone with common sense would’ve finished their homework and took advantage of a night free of worry. they would’ve enjoyed a full eight hours of sleep while dreams danced through their mind. but you lacked common sense.

the kitchen clock read 2:18, you were growing impatient waiting for cookies in the oven. before your crazy attempt to make lunches and treats for the entire karasuno team, you studied for your history test and finished a 10-page essay due the next day.

with your apron stained with all sorts of condiments and food, you glanced at the pile of bento boxes placed on your dining table. each decorated with a name of every player on karasuno’s mens volleyball club, of course including the cutest managers and best coaches.

the lunch box on top, reading my tsukki, my moon made with extra love and care for you boyfriend.

tomorrow was the miyagi prefectural qualifiers and as much as you wanted to be there, you had school. you longed to be in the crowds, screaming for tsukki and karasuno at the top of your lungs. so of course, you felt guilty for not being able to give your support. an alternative? food.

beep beep. the timer of the oven finally went off and you breathed a sigh of relief. you weren’t sure how long you could keep your eyelids open. your tiredness must’ve gotten to your head because without a second thought you opened the oven and reached for the scorching pan.

you spewed a variety of curses quietly in an attempt to not wake your parents, but the pain was intolerable. after taking the cookies out with the opposite hand, throwing them in a container and trying to type out ‘how to deal with burns’ with your pinky while one hand held ice (not a good idea) to the burn— you fell asleep on the couch.

not even 3 hours later, you woke up. oh the things i do for this boy. you shook your head, a smile creeping onto your face just thinking about him. you quickly throw on a hoodie and carefully place the food into a basket attached to your bike.

the sun had barely come up, just peeking from the horizon. it was way too early. riding your bike to karasuno while you rubbed your eyes constantly and yawned nonstop was a challenge. you almost tipped over several times. but once you arrived you were greeted by a horde of “hey it’s y/n!!” but the only thing you could really hear was “y/n what are you doing here?”

“well, good morning to you too, tsukki,” you chirped, taking the food out of your basket and carefully distributing it to everyone.

“wow y/n, you really didn’t have to do this.” daichi said. “but this does look amazing.” sugawara butt in, admiring the cute design. “y/n you’re the best, seriously!!” praised hinata, already shoving a small bite into his mouth for a quick ‘taste.’

when you handed tsukki his, confusion and worry came across his face. “but— look at you y/n. you look terrible.” he spat, reaching over to inspect your face. he titled your chin up and pulled your eyes wide.

“is that what you tell your girlfriend after she spent all night to make you lunch?” you pouted, slightly hurt from how he reacted.

“i think y/n looks pretty, like always.” yamaguchi gushed from afar.

“shut up yamaguchi.” “sorry tsukki!!”

“but you know thats not what i meant. i’m just worried about, you look like you haven’t sleep at all.” he shook his head.

“hey! technically i slept for 3 hours.” you argued, earning a signature tsukishima eye roll from the man himself.

“you’re an idiot, y/n. but thank you.” he muttered and placed a kiss on your forehead. suddenly, coach ukai cut in and yelled for everyone to get in the van. groaning, tsukki squeezed you into a hug.

“sorry i can’t be there, but win for me and i’ll be there next match. i promise” you pouted, adding an extra boost of encouragement for tsukishima. these days, you’d noticed how passionate he’d become about the sport and no words could describe your happiness over this.

after waving bye to the team and wishing them the best of luck, you stood alone in the parking lot. happy and excited for what was to come for the karasuno boys volleyball club. but stupid for thinking you could make it through the rest of your day on the mere 3 hours of sleep.

you were an idiot— a fool, perhaps.

someone might as well hand you a jester hat and shoes, bells included, of course. because you were a fool, for tsukishima kei only.

someone with common sense would’ve followed the sign saying “only players allowed on court.” they would’ve yelled praises of encouragement from the stands and just sent a text. but you lacked common sense.

as soon as you saw red liquid ooze from tsukishima’s hand, you hoped out of your seat and grabbed your belongings without hesitation. oh no. your heart sunk and before yachi could even try to calm you down you were already running.

past the crowds and down the stairs leading to the court. you sprinted towards the karasuno team, completely ignoring the officials yelling at you.

you gently pushed through tsukishima’s teammates and an angry expression reached your face once you met eyes with the boy.

“tsukishima kei, are you stupid?” you cursued at him. his face turns a slight pink as his teammates snicker at your typical girlfriend antics. meanwhile, several tournament officials walked over to check on tsukishima’s condition and kick you off the court since you weren’t a player. but you didn’t care. you took his hurt hand into yours, putting your face closer to examine the extent of his injury.

he winced in pain causing your anger to melt away. “you almost gave me a heart attack, you have no idea how worried i was up th-“ you blab on before tsukishima reassures you.

“y/n i’m still breathing, right? you care about me that much huh?” tsukishima smirked as he tried to hide the pain he felt in his right hand.

“okay lovebirds, why don’t you go to the medical office together and get it checked out? we’re going to need you back on the court, tsukishima.” coach ukai quickly sends the two of you away in hopes of him returning by the fifth set.

akiteru and yachi anxiously follow as you and tsukishima rush to the medical office. they wait outside and the doctor tells you two that only his pinky is discolated and the rest of his fingers are fine, so he can still return but he has to wait for the bleeding to stop. the doctor excuses himself to get more bandages, leaving the two of you alone.

you stand up from your seat to stand in front of tsukishima. his face is serious, clearly still fixated on the game still going on at the moment. you wanted to give him peace but you couldn’t hold in how proud you were.

you go on to explain how amazed you were. “and when you jumped up to block, i knew ushijima had no chance— then BOOM! his spike goes straight down into the floor. i think i broke yachi’s eardums with my screaming. not to mention how hot you looked out there like what the hell??” you gushed, making tsukishima smile amidst his pain.

he pulled you in closer and wrapped his long arms around your torso, tucking his face into the comfort of your neck. like muscle memory, your hand finds its way to his back and began to rub circles.

“you’re really sweaty, tsukki. its kinda gross.” you whisper into his hear making him click his tongue in response. but despite the perspiration dripping down his back, you honestly didn’t mind.

tsukishima pulls away, his eyes wander around your face. his breath hitching at your every feature, especially at how your eyes possessed a unique twinkle that didn’t just resemble stars but the entire galaxy. then he remembers the day he fell in love with you, that day you walked home together in the rain.

“god y/n, you’re crazy you know that, right? but i love you.” he chuckles. “i know.” you proudly state while you try to hide the fact that your heart was physically hurting from how fast it was beating. “and i-“ you sprinkle a dozen kisses all over tsukishima’s face. one for eveything you loved about him.” love you too, kei” you say before pressing your swollen lips against his.

“now go out there and beat shiratorizawa’s ass!”

and that’s exactly what he does.

[mccnyoongi]

buttercup ⇢ pt one

⇢ pairing: yoongi x fem!reader

⇢ genre: smut + slight angst

⇢ au: college!au, fwb!au, stoner!yoongi, assholeish!yoongi, fuckboyish!yoongi fwb to lovers trope

⇢ word count: 6k+

⇢ warnings: smut, honestly mostly porn, unprotected sex, recreational use of drugs & alcohol, dirty talk, praise, degradation, ridiculously excessive use of pet names, fingering, dom!Yoongi, unprotected sex, slight dumbification (whoops), hair pulling, creampie??, oral (f receiving), pussy slaping, reader has a thing for Yoongi’s hands because who doesn’t, reader and yoongi are both sarcastic and oblivious, this part is basically pwp.

⇢ synopsis: Min Yoongi wears leather jackets, fucks you like he hates you, spends most of his days on the wrong side of a blunt, and calls you the sweetest names when no one else is around. And you definitely aren’t falling in love with him.

⇢ author’s note: so yes, buttercup is being cut up into two parts thanks to a lot of my life getting uprooted this week!!! ill spare you the details but everything is really chaotic rn so im sorry this isnt exactly what i promised :( thank u for all the insane amont of love ive gotten so far. this is a pretty um... filthy piece of writing skfjsd and it’s definitely not perfect and id love to get better with everything i put out on here but i hope u guys enoy ily xx

If there was a magic lantern hidden somewhere on the campus of this university, you’d find it and your first wish would be to make it so that no one found out about this whole illicit affair you’ve been having with Min Yoongi. The secrecy was fun, sexy like you guys had a whole Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing going on. Or something. Your second wish would be to make his dick vibrate. 

But then he just had to go and go down on you in a bathroom during a party at the Beta Tau Rho house, not even a month into the fall semester, knowing you wouldn’t be able to be quiet or subtle at all. And he was so smug about it too, the fucker.

You can still feel the embarrassment buzzing under the surface of your cheeks from when you walked out that bathroom door and a dozen frat boys and mutual friends of yours and Yoongi’s were out there, waiting for the two of you to emerge and giving you a round of applause when you did. Yoongi had just laughed and rolled his eyes before leading you to the kitchen to get the pair of you some drinks. He’s always been particularly good at brushing that shit off of his shoulder. You aren’t, but you’re pretty good at pretending.

Maybe you should have ended it all that night. Of course, you didn’t. You figured, hey,  you’re young and in school so fuck making good decisions. Of course, the fact that no other guy has ever been able to dick you down nearly as well as Min Yoongi can is probably a huge contributing factor. 

Sure he might be grumpy, and sarcastic, and he tries way too hard to look cool and nonchalant, but he’s also the first guy to ever make you squirt. And you’re pretty sure that the way he waxes poetic about your pussy would make even Shakespeare swoon. So maybe the pros outweigh the cons, but only just.

“I can’t believe you’ve been getting Yoongi dick for almost three full months and haven’t divulged every single detail and vein to me, you cold, uncaring bitch-” Jimin’s voice is far too loud for the student-run coffee shop the two of you regulared every Sunday; a tradition that Jimin always insisted upon. He loves his traditions almost as much as he loves destroying any personal boundaries between the two of you.

“Keep going Park, see if I ever buy your coffee again.”

“Don’t change the subject,” You can’t say you’re surprised that Jimin is reacting like this. Self-proclaimed ‘disaster bisexual,’ Jimin was one of the very first friends you made back when you were a shy, barely functioning freshman. 

He actually introduced you to all his frat brothers, and a large number of the people you now call your friends. Including Yoongi, whose dick seems to be a reoccurring topic between you and… most people you know. Even if they weren’t at that dumb party, Jungkook made sure that every living being that stepped onto campus was aware of the newly found out fuckbuddies.

“We don’t keep anything from each other, Y/N,” He’s whining over his coffee now, full lips perched in that pretty pout that he regularly uses to his advantage. “I even told you about that time I puked on Namjoon’s dick in our second year!”

“Mmm, and I wish you hadn’t told me, Minnie-” The visual still haunts you, but Jimin has never had any predilections when it came to oversharing, especially not with people who have the misfortune of being his best friends. “‘Sides, I didn’t figure it was important, the whole Yoongi thing-”

“His dick, you mean.”

“Because it’s not like we’re getting married,” You carefully ignore him, a useful habit you’ve picked up three years into being his friend. “Just sex, remember?”

“So fucking what? You told me how you sucked Jeon’s cock in a movie theatre less than twelve hours after it happened-” You take a large gulp of your own iced coffee to busy yourself when the shameful memory is brought up. Not shameful because of the promiscuity of the act, no you’re an adult, thank you very much, but rather because of the boy you performed them on. Jeon Jungkook is now more of an annoying younger brother to you than anything. Not to mention he’s got a giant mouth that couldn’t keep a secret even if it killed him.

“Jesus you could’ve picked any other example-” You groan out as Jimin smirked, receiving the exact reaction from you he wanted. You think you’d have learned by now. “I’m sorry, okay? You big baby.”

“Hey, you’re on thin ice,” He points an accusatory finger at you and you have to fight the urge to smack it out of your face. “Now you have to make it up to me.”

You sigh- Jimin can really be exhausting when you’re only half a medium coffee in. “And how do you expect me to do that, Park.”

“Dick details, fucking obviously,” He says it like you’re a moron for even asking. And maybe you are. “Well details in general, I guess. You know, the basics; length, girth, does he make you call him daddy, is he good- I mean he must be un-fucking-real if you’ve been bouncing on it for three goddamn months, you whore.”

“I’m not giving you measurements, Jimin, I’ve yet to take a tape measure to it- and stop assuming everyone has a daddy kink just ‘cause you do.”

“Okay, vanilla bitch. You’re lucky I already know he’s got a monster cock from that time he streaked at that post-mid-term party next year.”

“Then why’d you even ask?”

“To see if you’d tell me the truth. It was a test and you failed.”

“I may be a college student but you’re gonna have to threaten me with a little more than a failing grade to spook me,” You roll your eyes playfully- there’s no real threat in his words, there never is.

“You’re right, I’m sure you’d much rather be punished by Yoongi, huh?”

                    ..............................................................................

Watching Yoongi roll a joint, his long, slender and experienced fingers moving quickly and deftly, has always had this near hypnotizing-like effect on you. His apartment smells like weed, the scent never surprising and would almost be overwhelming if you weren’t so used to it by now. The sight alone is almost enough to make you wet. But you’re stronger than that- except for when you’re not. 

Sexy hands aside, but unfortunately not on you, you’re thankful for his cannabis-related expertise because a) you can’t roll one yourself to save your life and b) despite normally reserving your consumption habits for parties, you feel like you deserve a fat one after the week you’ve had. What with, you know, the stress of having every student on campus knowing about yours and Yoongi’s torrid affair, thanks to fucking Jeon Jungkook. Brat. Plus incessant goading from both Jimin and your roommate, Irene- equally angry as Jimin about your worst kept secret- has only made you sink further into your insecure and paranoid thoughts.

The weed would help, you’d told yourself when your phone pinged with that much anticipated what’re u up 2? late night text from the raven-haired devil himself. Yep, it was the weed, the comforting blanket of getting high. And had nothing to do with the boy that was offering them. Not even his fat cock or magnetic pull he seemed to have on you. 

“Alright, dove,” He says from his spot on his worn-out single-dorm couch- the names don’t tend to surprise you the way they used to. You kinda figured that the affection-starved Yoongi had just you know… gotten comfortable with the girl he had been fucking for the last couple of months. No big deal. Sure they made your heart swell and your panties dampen, but then it could be looked at as a positive. 

He looks up at you from his spot on the couch, where he’s uncomfortably hunched over the table as he works and notices how you’re looking rather spaced out- not entirely rare for you. He’s used to the hundred-mile stare you tend to adopt when deep in thought, though it’s considerably less common for a sober you.

“Dove?” Nothing. “Y/N?” It’s the use of your actual name from his lips that finally grabs your attention.  You finally turn your head to look at him, the glaze of deep thought finally leaving your eyes. An eyebrow quirks to let him know you’ve heard him, but his gaze remains piercing and unwavering on yours. “You need to stop worrying so much, dove.”

“That’s what the weed is for, Yoongs.”

“The weed? You’re just here so I can smoke you out then, huh? No ulterior motives, hm?” His tone is as dry and sarcastic as ever, qualities he had quickly become known for around campus. He shurgs “Fine. Just here to sesh. C’mere then.”

You scoot closer to his side of the couch, not even thinking twice before listening to him. His tongue is tantalizing as he licks the rolling paper, even if he doesn’t mean it to be. He’s almost always tantalizing to you.

“Don’t be grumpy. You invited me over,” Your words are softer than you meant, but your proximity to him makes you feel stilted. He was right, you really needed a smoke, more on edge than ever.

“Well, technically,” He starts, unlit, perfectly rolled joint now perched between his lips. He grabs at your legs before continued so that you were resting sideways on the black couch, legs strewn over legs, thighs touching thighs. “I invited the best pussy on campus over.” You crinkle your nose at his bluntness.

“Yoongi-” You scold indignantly and pinch at a well-toned bicep. “Don’t be an asshole, you asshole.” He grins despite the insult like he’d expected it. Or he’s revelling in it.

“You know I’m just fucking around, angel,” His arm tucks around your waist comfortably, pulling you even closer. “Tryna chill you out. I can tell when you’re all strung out. I know how you,” He pokes you in the middle of the forehead, still grinning, as you pout from being called strung out. “Tick.” 

He really does, doesn't he? The thought is mildly terrifying, and you think that Yoongi might be too smart or his own good sometimes. When he’s not smoking himself into another dimension, that is.

He leans back into his seat, uncurling from around you to finally light up. A few sparks later and the room is fogging up with overly pungent smoke- the cheap smell makes you think that he probably bought it off of Hobi, too lazy to go any further off-campus than his own block of apartments to one of the nice but relatively affordable dispensaries. You crinkle your nose at the scent, grateful he’s too distracted to notice since he’d probably just tease you for liking the fancy shit more. At least you trust Hobi, and he lives only two buildings down from Yoongi. Truly an age of convenience.

A few passes, tokes, whatevers later, and you’re feeling substantially... floaty. You’ve completely relaxed, choosing to lie down rather than put the effort into sitting up, though your legs are still thrown across your equally high counterpart’s. What’s left of the roach is left to burn in one of many strategically placed ashtrays around the apartment, this one being on the living room table.

Yoongi has barely moved in the past while, head resting lazily on the back of the couch, black hair messy and his neck- which is somehow handsome to you- stretched out, and hands resting against your bare knees. You’ve barely paid him any mind, the silence nothing but comforting and easy. 

Which is why you can’t help but jolt just a little in surprise when those hands, the hypnotizing ones you’re so obsessed with suddenly start creeping up your legs, halfway up your thighs, carefully kneading the supple flesh he finds there. He chuckles at your reaction, finally picking his up his head to watch you through heavy-lidded eyes. “Bet you’re extra sensitive right now, huh petal?” He doesn’t have to bet because he knows it’s true, knows how needy you get when you’ve smoked. And he loves it- it’s why he never makes you pay for any of the times he smokes you out.

“Fuck off,” You whine at his light-hearted teasing, but Yoongi just giggles- he fucking giggles- in response, hands still travelling the expanse of your thighs. 

“Be nice,” His words are still jovial, but there’s a gruffness behind them that sends a shiver down your spine, despite the relative stuffiness of his living room.

“I am nice, you’re just a dick,” You pout- childish, but you can’t quite come up with anything more clever at the moment. The jab may be weaker than your usual quips, but Yoongi seems to have decided it’s enough to warrant a punishment of sorts, as he sends a quick slap onto your thigh. It’s certainly not the harshest hit you’ve received from him, it’s more playful than anything, but it’s enough to make you whine, not even noticing when your own hands jump down to grab at him and your now sore flesh.

His eyes take on a new sort of darkness, beyond the dilated pupils from the high he’s in the middle of as he grabs at your wrists, any assault you had planned halting in its tracks. His large hands that you’ve drooled over- figuratively and literally- many a time are big enough that he only needs one of them to hold both of yours steady. He uses his grip on you to yank you back up to a sitting position, where your noses almost touch and you can feel his breath fan across your lips.

“I told you, I know how you tick,” He lets his tongue swipe out to wet his lips, the act distracts you and makes you mimic it with your own tongue and lips. The smirk he gives you is all at once wicked and panty dampening. “Which means I know you like it when I’m mean. I know you like when I treat you like this, like my little slut,” The word makes you draw in a breath as your face reddens in humiliation and tension. “And- and I know you’re probably soaking through your panties right now, all over my couch. Making a fucking mess.”

It infuriates you to no end how right he is as your breaths come out shaky and uneven as you feel your pussy flutter around nothing beneath your shorts and panties. 

“Aren’t you?” His tone doesn’t leave room for playfulness anymore, and you’re nodding dumbly before you can give it a second thought. “Good girl.”

He doesn’t give you any time to bask in the praise before he’s leaning in to capture your lips in a searing and sloppy kiss. He’s domineering even in the way he kisses you, teeth biting and tongue sweeping into your own mouth as he revels in the small sounds that escape you. His hands leave your wrists, freeing them so you can grip onto raven locks with a newly freed hand as his own wrap around your waist. 

Every sense is filled with him, and it is all at once comforting and exhilarating.

He tugs and roughly manhandles you so that you’re properly astride his denim-covered thighs, your lips never untangling in the process. When your lips finally do come apart, it’s with a lewd sound and a gasp from your mouth. He’s still smirking.

“Gonna fuck you so good petal,” Yoongi has always been so blunt and unforgiving, whether in bed or out and it had been one of the things that first attracted you to him, besides his obvious good looks. 

Before the two of you had even gotten together, when you were friends who didn’t fuck on the regular, you had even mustered up the courage to touch yourself to the thought of him speaking to you like this- your own fingers circling your clit and delving into yourself without abandon. You had only been able to imagine up a fraction of his sexual prowess. 

Like the time only a few weeks ago you admitted to him in a foggy haze, high than you think you’d ever been. how you’d brought yourself to climax with images and soundbites of him flitting through your head. He’d immediately made you put on a show for him- recreating those nights, but this time with him sitting feet away from you and ignoring your pleas for him to touch you.

Right now, however, the only things keeping you grounded in reality is the feeling of the muscles in his thighs flexing beneath you, though nowhere near where you truly ache to be touched, and one of his hands brutishly tangled in your hair, pulling harshly so he can have easy access to your neck. Plush lips start soft, kissing and licking at the skin there, before his teeth join in, biting and sucking like he loves the taste of you (because he does).

“Y-yoongi-” You’re trying to keep the whimpers at bay, like maybe if you stop yourself from seeming so turned on so fast it’ll get him to fuck you faster. “C’mon, just fuck me already.”

“So demanding for such a needy bitch,” He has you squirming on his lap and you don’t know why you thought you had any power over him left. “Have you forgotten your place? Can’t think of anything else but getting fucked, huh?”

You nod in agreement, but find out he must want a verbal response when you’re met with a sharp spank to your ass that has you squealing and bucking into his lap. “Yeah, yeah Yoongi ‘m sorry, just need it.”

“I know, baby, I know, you can’t even help it when you get all messy like this, I know,” You can’t decide whether his words are sweet or patronizing when he coos at you like that, but either way he’s got you another pair of panties.

“Need you to fix it, Yoongs,” All pride is out the window when he’s got you like this, and you love pleading with him to give you what you want almost as much as likes making you beg.

“I will,” He gives you one more harsh bite to the junction of your neck and your shoulder that you know will blossom into a bruise just in time for your 10 AM class tomorrow and you hiss at the mingling of pain and pleasure. “Now fucking get up,” He pats lightly at your thigh twice at the order.

You’re in no position to disobey, and you know from experience that not listening to him will end up with a sore ass and no release in sight. You stand up on shaky, doe-like legs and he grins at the sight of you. He stands up with you, his lean form and strong stance making him look taller than he really is. Then his long fingers are pulling at what little clothing you have, stripping you of both your tank top and your shorts and your bra isn’t far behind. Soon you’re clad only in your panties while he’s still fully clothed in black form-fitting jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Thankfully he leaves his cliche, but devastatingly sexy leather jacket at the door.

He doesn’t make any move to undress at all and you hope to god he will eventually- you love seeing his honey-coloured skin covered in a thin layer of sweat as he fucks you into oblivion. But for now, he stays fully clothed and he roughly pulls you by your upper arm until he can bend you over the arm of the couch, panty-covered ass high and perfectly on display for him.

“God, you’re fucking dripping,” He taunts, fingers running over your pussy through the thin cotton, making you whine into the rough cushion your face is resting on. “All this from almost nothing, huh? You’re such a fucking slut for me, shit.” He sounds genuinely amazed by you and when you uncomfortably crane your neck back to get a good look at him you let out a proper moan. He must have stripped his shirt off when you weren’t facing him, because his chest is bare for you to gaze at, or you would gaze at it if you weren’t distracted by the hand that isn’t on you, which is lazily working over his cock, rock hard and aching through his jeans.

He smirks when he notices what’s grabbed your attention, knowing you’re only moments away from quite literally drooling on his pillows. “Is this what you want? Hm?”

“Ye-yeah your cock, Yoongi, need your cock,” Your face burns red and blood burns hot as the crude words leave your mouth.

“And you’ll fucking get it, dove,” The cute name contrasts the second harsh spank he lands on your ass and you moan at the delicious sting. 

You think that he must be about to tear your panties off and sink into you, but that would be too predictable and Yoongi loves to keep you on your toes. Instead, he disappears from your line of sight, a dull thump coming from the hardwood as he drops to his knees, feline gaze now level with your cunt. 

“Yoongi-” You’re whining again, and you even have to hold yourself back from stomping your foot childishly because, god, you just need him to do something.

And then he finally does- he licks a thick stripe, right from your clit to your entrance, still over your panties, and you gasp in surprise. He does it again, twice, three, four times until your hips are bucking and you’re whining because you need more, you need him to actually touch you and not be a giant fucking tease for once in his life.

“Be fucking patient,” He hisses out, but at least he’s finally rolling your underwear down your legs to toss them somewhere across the room. “Or I swear to god, I’ll hold you down just like this so you can’t even squirm while I get myself off all over your messy cunt,” His hand is running up and down your bare pussy as he speaks, spreading the wetness around, to your clit and your thighs and your ass and then back again. “And then I’ll send you home without touching you or cleaning you up, so you’ll have to take the subway home covered in my come and fucking trembling. So be fucking good.” At the last word, he lands a mean slap against your gushing cunt and you let out an embarrassing squeak.

“Shit-fuck- Yoongi, please, just-” You stutter through your words, needing to get them out, though you don’t know why. “I’ll be good, okay? ‘M your good girl, I am, promise, I’ll be good.”

He doesn’t respond, at least not verbally. But you have to assume he’s happy with your desperate response when he finally delves into your pussy like a man starved, tongue licking into you, the muscle sending spasms up and down your legs. You have to muffle your moans by biting into a pillow, not needing another altercation with his neighbours, but you want nothing more than to yell his name as loud as you can until your voice goes hoarse when he shakes his head from side to side, tongue still buried inside of you and one of his hands now roughly circling your clit. 

It’s too much, but it’s not nearly enough. It’s when he switches positions between his hand and mouth that you think you might explode; his mouth latches onto your clit, tongue circling and playing with it and two fingers fucking into you, preparing you for the impressive girth of his own cock.

Your teeth let go of the strong grip it has so you can warn him of your impending orgasm. “Yoongi- gonna come-” You manage to choke out between barely quieted moans.

You know that he wouldn’t be able to respond if he was still suckling on your clit, but you still whine and wiggle your hips as he pulls away, earning you yet another spank to your rear, where you can only assume a nice handprint is forming. “Yeah? Want you to come all over my face, like a good messy whore- gotta come for me before I can fuck you like you need.” 

When his mouth finds your swollen clit again, you can’t help it as your orgasm barrels through you almost violently, every muscle tensing and fingers grasping at whatever they can find, neighbour’s delicate sensibilities forgotten as you moan out Yoongi’s name. He licks you through it, fingers no longer pistoning into you. When the last of the tremors have faded he finally pulls away, using his clean hand to wipe your mess off of his chin, though it hardly cleans him. 

“Good fucking girl,” The roughness with which he was grinding his still covered bulge into your now sopping wet center would be impossible to ignore even if your head weren’t a million miles away. But for now, everything is Yoongi, every single scent is filled with him and you think that that might be making your head even fuzzier than the drugs coursing through your system, but you’re too far gone to be sure. Or to even care.

Because all you can think about is his mouth-watering hands kneading at the slightly pinkened skin of your ass, his mouth-watering cock rutting against you and his mouth-watering, well, mouth pressing wet kisses and occasional bites up and down your spine. “Yoongi,” You meant to speak with at least a little more conviction, but his name comes out as little more than a mumble.

“Hm,” He hums against your skin and even those slight vibrations reverberate straight to your heart, which starts beating faster at the thought of what’s to come. “What, is my babygirl still needy?” 

The use of the word my in front of the affectionate name makes your heart jump, but you don’t even have time to scold yourself for thinking with your post-orgasmic pussy before he continues talking with that sinful mouth of him. “Such a greedy, desperate girl, won’t be happy ‘til you’re stuffed full of my fat cock,” His words have you whining and grinding back against him, where you don’t have to look to know you’re leaving a stain on his favourite jeans.  If you’re unlucky- or lucky depending on your mood- he’ll make you clean it up with your tongue as further delicious torture. 

But smoking makes Yoongi needy too, no matter how much he teases you for the effect it has on you, and he can’t wait much longer, not with his cock so hard he was a razor blades’ edge from losing his mind. He needs to be inside you as much as you need him.

Which is why you don’t doubt him for a second when he’s murmuring things about how he’s ‘gonna fuck you so good, gonna fuck you stupid,’ and you can only respond with even quieter whispers of ‘I knows’ and ‘pleases’ as he strips himself oh the rest of his clothes, hissing from oversensitivity as his cock makes contact with the air. It’s wonderfully overwhelming and he’s not even fucking you yet.

You can’t even explain how grateful you are when Yoongi turns you around because you love just seeing his cock. You’ve never been one to describe guys’ dicks as pretty before- except that TA you managed to fuck before Jimin sunk his claws into him, Kim Seokjin, because, well, you’re not blind. But Yoongi’s dick is gorgeous. It’s not the biggest thing you’ve ever seen, and it doesn’t have to be, not when it’s girthy enough to make you salivate with a curve that points to the heavens. Gorgeous.

He’s pulling you on top of him so he can sit back down and you’re back to straddling him, and you don’t complain because you know he’s tired both from the pot and crouching on his haunches for access to your center not two minutes ago. Plus he loves when you ride him, breasts bouncing in his face, wetness making a mess out of his lap and full access of your entire body for both his hands and lips.

“Need you to bounce on my fat cock before I fucking explode, baby,” And you’d have to be some sort of a madwoman to deny him.

“Need it too, Yoongs,” You don’t know why you feel the need to remind how desperate you are for him, surely he can feel it, your swollen pussy resting only centimetres above his throbbing length. “Can’t think of anything else.”

“I know,” He’s rubbing the angry red tip against your sopping folds, tinges of overstimulation making you jolt. Or you would jolt if his hands weren’t heavy on your waist, keeping you steady so you couldn’t a) get away from his cock or b) properly sink down onto it. “So pathetic and perfect for me like this, all cock drunk and fucked out and I haven’t even fucked you yet, huh?”

You nod frantically, and you can’t even find the energy to be embarrassed when a hand comes up to pet your hair with a condescending ‘awe’ as he pouts at you. You bat his hand away with a whine and furrowed eyebrows, but all that gets you is his hand tangled in your hair, yanking sharply in retaliation. “Careful, slut, or you won’t be coming for the next week-”

“Please, Yoongi-” You don’t let him finish, knowing from experience to always take his threats seriously. “I’m sorry, I’m fucking sorry, okay just please-”

You cut yourself off with a high pitched, tea kettle-like squeak as he uses his hands on you as leverage to have you sink down onto his cock in one fell swoop. “Shit, god, you’re always so fucking tight around me, fuck me.”

I am, is what you wish you were coherent enough to snark back with, but you’re sure no one would blame you if they could feel what you feel right now. And what you’re feeling right now is how well Yoongi feels inside of you, like no cock you’ve ever had. Every ridge and vein on his cock fills you up to the fucking brim, no room left for a pinky or a thought that has to do with anything other than Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi.

And then he starts with those devilish moments of his hip, fucking into you shallowly and slowly to start and it’s all Yoongi’s dick. 

“Fucking bounce on it, dove. Fuck yourself on my cock, show me how much you need it,” He speaks through gritted teeth, each word a struggle as he tries not to fuck into you without thought. And it’s with the satisfaction you get knowing he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him that you find the strength to do as he says.

With quivering thighs, you push up and off of his cock, the two of you sharing a harmonious groan at the feeling, foreheads pressed against each other, skin sweaty. And this all just in the calm before the storm. 

It’s not long before the both of you are moving frantically, mere seconds, really. It’s intense and all-encompassing, as you grind and roll your hips, cock deeper than you knew to be possible, and his bucking his own hips into you roughly, no doubt as deeply in some sort of euphoria as you are. His hands are everywhere and so are his lips. He sucks marks into your tits and gropes your ass, controlling your movements to the best of his abilities.

All of that, plus your clit grinding against his pelvic bone every other second and your head just might be in another universe. 

Yoongi’s words are swirling around in your head, though you’re not properly taking any of it in- his velvety voice goes on about how wet you are, how tight you are, how you’re a good girl and it’s all another instrument in your downfall. You’ve never been much for heights but being with Yoongi feels like something akin to what you assume bungee jumping is like, and you’re just about at that point where your cord runs out of length and your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach.

“Tell me you’re fucking close, baby, c’mon,” This is as close to pleading as you can ever get Yoongi but you’re still swimming in pride. He brings a hand off of your ass to cup your cheek, brushing away your now mussed hair and a single stray tear and you drink in the look in his eyes, dark red-rimmed and needing. “Gonna fill you up with my come, just like I know you like, my perfect little cumslut, fuck, just need you to come first, yeah? All over my fucking cock.”

And with a particularly hard grasp at your ass, bringing you to grind your clit against him again, you’re gone. It’s considerably less intense than the previous one, as many second orgasms are, but your head is still spinning and you think you might have drooled a little, but you don’t mind and you know Yoongi doesn’t. Your attempts to stifle your moans are unsuccessful as the name of the man attached to your favourite cock falls from your lips like a mantra.

And where your orgasm is, Yoongi is rarely far behind- he loves seeing you fall apart around him, because of him and you always clench so fucking hard around him in the peak of your pleasure how could he fucking not. He’s grunting, moaning, damn near growling as he spurts his own release as deep into you as he possibly can, coating every inch of your delectable pussy, vague mumbles of how he’s filling you up, just like you’re meant to be that you can just barely hear.

Shakey breaths hit each of your faces as you come down, now still and worn out. Your chests move up and down and you don’t know when you’ve buried your face into the crook of his neck, but the warmth and smell are more comforting than any hit you’ve ever taken off of one of his blunts.

“Shit, buttercup,” He chuckles, the vibrations rumbling through his chest and where you’ve tucked yourself He runs a hand through his sweaty black locks, the other hand locked around your waist. “I don’t know how we’re gonna move without making this couch fucking disgusting.” Mood killer.

“Don’t give a shit.”

“Yeah, but I do. Especially if Joon or Hobi someone finds it and makes a big fucking deal out of it, like no other guy in his twenties has some come stained furniture.”

You pull back from the spot you wish he’d just let you fall asleep in so he can see your pout. He can’t find the sight of you… adorable? Your hair matted, bruises, courtesy of yours truly littering your tits and chest, a thin sheen of sweat making your skin glow and bottom lip jutted out exactly enough to be overexaggerated and so fucking adorable. 

At that moment he’s glad that about three weeks ago the two of you had started to break the unspoken no sleeping over after sex rule because he just wants to clean you up and feel you curl yourself around him like you like to.

You don’t know what time it is, just that it’s late and that it doesn't matter, because this was certainly time well spent. You wonder how much sleep you’ve given up in lieu of Yoongi’s pretty dick. Of course, it does matter... because you have a 9 am class tomorrow morning that you can’t miss, but that’s for future you to worry about. For now, it’s time to try to get up without defiling this Ikea couch (you failed miserably and giggled about it while Yoongi groaned in mock pain), burn out just one more joint, steal some clothes for bed and some snacks from his fridge, and pass the fuck out on his bed, which you think is way better than yours, but that has nothing to do with the boy in it or his comforting warmth and smell.

                     ..............................................................................

Past you is a dumb bitch. Also maybe current you. Point being, you hate you, because you’re sore and stiff and ten minutes late to your dumb 9 am class and it’s all Yoongi’s fucking fault. You texted him this much, calling him a ‘little bitch boy’ for not even waking you up to make you a cup of coffee with his fancy instant coffee machine before you left. He hasn’t responded yet because holy fuck does that guy sleep like a rock. A really cute, cuddly, sex-god rock.

But, as usual, Jimin came in clutch, handing you off a coffee as your paths crossed on campus, each of you heading to your respective classes. He gave you a one-armed-too-tight hug and a comment on how you have that very glamourous ‘I got fucked by Min Fucking Yoongi last night and you didn’t so I’m better than you look.’ You tried to take it as a compliment as you thanked him for the coffee. He gave you a cute kiss to your forehead that reminded you you could never even be annoyed at him for too long.

And now you’re in class. Headache from not getting enough sleep getting worse by the second while you tried not to think about what judgements people must be passing on you, with your sunglasses inside and hickeys you didn’t have time to cover up.

When your phone pings you assume it’s Jimin, with something slutty or sarcastic or both. But it’s not. It’s Yoongi- well, it’s what you have Yoongi’s number saved under, aka the drooling emoji three times over… You’re surprised he’s awake, you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have shit to do until the afternoon. 

You have a fleeting thought that it could be a dick pic- yeah it’s a little early for that kind of dumb fuckboy behaviour, and you’d previously thought that too, but Kim Taehyung proved you wrong last year. 

Yoongi isn’t a dick pic kind of guy anyway. No, he’s the guy that sends pictures of his hand around your throat that one night you let him take artsy photos of you two fucking on his film camera. The kind of guy that sends you audios of him jerking off and moaning your name that you listen to through your earphones in between classes because he knew you wouldn’t be able to help yourself. He’s the guy that drives you crazy because you can never quite predict what he’s gonna do next.

[9:23 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: you could have woken me you know dummy

[9:24 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: subways are gross in the morning

[9:25 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: i could have u know, driven u…

[9:26 am] From 🤤🤤🤤: cant really say no to u buttercup.

You don’t know why you’re heart’s beating so fast so you reprimand yourself for thinking with your pussy. Min motherfucking Yoongi is gonna be the death of you.

[mrfutureboy]

@rovermcfly tysm for tagging me and sorry this took 5ever!!

why did you choose your url?

i wanted a bttf url last summer when i got back into the fandom, and i wanted it to be specific to marty bc i love him but i also want to be him. im like, obsessed with the nickname "future boy" that doc gives him in 1955, and the url futureboy is taken, so i am mrfutureboy bc i am marty (kinnie shit)

any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them

i literally only have a handful for url-saving purposes. @rhodeystark and @masloki are my most notable old urls so i wanted them for safe keeping. i also have @goodnightfutureboy bc that was one of the bttf urls i was considering and i never got around to deleting it (if by chance anyone wants that lmk)

how long have you been on tumblr?

I think i joined in 2010.

do you have a queue tag?

back when i blogged a lot on desktop, xkit worked for me, and i actually queued shit for my blog it was “since queue been gone” bc i thought i was clever. i still think its clever tbh i just dont really queue anymore

why did you start your blog in the first place?

Iirc, an irl friend of mine heard about tumblr thru an upperclassman she was friends with, so she was like “sonny we should sign up for tumblr!” and i was like sure why not. first url was miss-math bc thats my deviantart username

why did you choose your icon/pfp?

im obsessed w mjf but im also a kinnie /j. i specifically love his look in that interview and also i own a very similar sweater now so. it me. also im basically aromantic even tho i dont really use the label so yeah i put that behind his pretty face

why did you choose your header?

skfkdksk its because i kept fucking dying in the stuart little 2 gba game. I havent played in a while but im stuck on the level where stuart goes into the sink drain to retrieve the wedding ring that isnt even in there

what’s your post with the most notes?

Feel free to fact check me, but im 90% sure it’s a screenshot of gwen and trent from tdi that i took, where gwen is like leaning on the table all miserable and trents got his hand on her back, captioned “rb if you agree” bc i thought they were really cute. i still get fucking notifications for that post i think its at over 500 notes now

how many followers do you have?

i dont particularly like sharing this since this is the only site that doesnt make that public, and it’s nice to not feel intimidated or make other people feel intimidated or ashamed, like how it kinda makes you feel bad when you have fewer followers than your friends on insta. but i’ll play, and as of right now i have 1065 followers im very grateful for <3

how many people do you follow?

240. ik my ratio is bad i promise im not being an asshole abt it

have you made a shitpost?

Ive been on tumblr a long time. Of course i have

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ post?

I get turned off by those posts a lot but i do be reblogging shit sometimes ill admit. but not blindly like i have to actually read it and care about it. But if its a 10 mile long post where everyones adding how necessary it is that its rb’d, forget about it

do you like tag games?

yeah!!! it just takes me a long time to finish them lol

do you like ask games?

I dont play them v often or receive them but i do!

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

@chloezhao, period. also @jedflah and @lonepinetimeline were some of the big names within the bttf community that i kept seeing last summer and i remember being like “omg they followed me”. (Well. Actually with theo i didnt recognize his main blog so for an embarrassingly long time i didnt realize we were mutuals slfksk. he would like my personal posts and i was like “wait who is this” and i felt like a huge idiot when i realized it was him! our 1 yr friendaversary is coming up love u cowboy <4)

do you have a crush on a mutual?

no but @biathelstan and i are cowboy soulmates

Tagging: @biathelstan @thereisnosafetythistime @anakins-rattail @mahourobotto

[if-the-crown-fits-translate-it]

Duchy Conversation 4

[27/03, 4:29 AM GMT - 27/03, 6:13 AM GMT]

[The following transcript details the conversation is between one of the Crown ARG Discord members and Duke on Twitter]

Donti: “Hi! How was your day?

Its me again :)c

((If its late or youre sleeping dw about responding :p))”

Duke: “Forgive my tardiness, my embroidery was enchanting me so that my ears laid unaware!

How do you do, Donti? It is the Duke speaking. I must say, my sister has quite the opinion of you!”

Donti: “Oh its great to talk to you again Duke :D I hope I left a good impression! Is your embroidery going well?”

Duke: “It is going quite splendid! The Crown truly does spoil us, giving my sister and I such rich-coloured thread. Truly we are fortunate for his generosity and love.”

Donti: “Ohh! Good colors always make embroidery fun! What are you making?”

Duke: “I must ask though - as a sheep yourself why must you graze on such nimble hearts? Wolves are not supposed to concern themselves with the opinions and thoughts of prey such as yourselves but Prince is but a pup, why must you all be so cruel? I am quite interested in the answer, you see, because it is I who saw the tear tracks down faers face and I who heard the drums of despair in this household.”

Donti: “Oh..

Are you talking about blunt anon?

All of us are very angry at them, whoever they are.

I promise they do not reflect us as a whole.”

Duke: “To answer your previous question however, I am making a rose for Baroness. I do feel horribly for how I was unable to aid her with her spoiled dress so I do hope this gift soothes her and shows that there is no ill will from I to her.”

Donti: “Thats nice! Baroness loves flowers and nature! Thats super thoughtful of you. Im sure she'll love it :D

But back to Prince... Are fae ok? we're worried about faem.”

Duke: “"Blunt anon" is quite a peculiar name I must say. Indeed that is the scoundrel I speak of. It is wonderful to hear that you all are not that way - frankly, if I suspected you were the one to make Prince cry I would have simply neglected to respond, as is customary when one deals with enemies of one's family. Prince is currently recuperating, poor thing. A bleeding heart only leads to death and yet fae still has not learned that yet. I do wish you to send out a warning if you would be so kind - do let anyone know that if they ever treat Duchess in such a matter they will swiftly come to regret it. A gentleman does not revel in violence but she is my most dearest sister.

I thank you for your kind words however, I do indeed hope she enjoys my gift so - do not tell the others but she may be the only one in this family I can truly connect to on an intellectual setting, besides my sister of course.”

Donti: “Ill tell people not to be rude to Duchess. Not that they would.. Im pretty sure they like her :D”

Donti: “"Blunt anon" came when people would send... Rude asks to people. It was originally just blunt questions. But it escalated to... What happened to Prince :( We're trying to find them, but theres only so much we can do

Oh wait! have other people reached out to you all yet?”

Donti: “I know some of my good friends have talked to duchess.. But not to you yet!”

Duke: “Ah, indeed people have reached out and only Duchess was there to greet them. It pains me of course but I found myself with activities to do throughout the day. Schooling is still important to Duchess and I so that took up quite a bit of time - do not tell Crown but I was indeed spending time taking in the beauty of ballet instead of working purely on my Latin. Tea time too is an important affair, especially for I, and then it is always important to spend time with ones sister! So alas, you have been the only one I have graced with my thoughts and feelings out of your crowd of sheep.”

Donti: “Hm. I like the name sheep... Its a little kinder than "plebs"

You seems to like a lot of.. Elegant things! (I hope thats the right word) like embroidery and ballet! Where did you learn such refined taste :oc”

Duke: “Where did I learn such refined tastes? They have always been apart of me, you must understand. The Crown helped unlock those parts that I kept buried deep away and help nurture them. Oh such a brute I used to be! No care for the finer things in life, only one-upping my beloved sister. To think I used to slide in the dirt just for a measly point - bah! Truly I am in much debt to the Crown, for without him I still may have been a unruly fool.”

Donti: “... You played sports before you met Crown?”

Duke: “My sister and I both did, yes. It does not do well to dwell on such miserable times, Donti. This is why little one you are still a lamb.”

Donti: “Oh! If you don't want to talk about it, you dont have to! ^u^ Friends dont force their friends to talk about uncomfortable things!

Hm... But if the plebs are sheep... And I am a lamb... Who is the shepard...?”

Duke: ���How sweet! Tell me, little lamb, who do you think the shepherd is? Or if there is one at all?

If you are a little lamb then I must ask, is there a Mary to be found alongside you as well?”

Donti: “Hm.... I think from our perspective the shepherd, (or shepherds in this case) would be our lovely mods :D

But from your point of view? Its most definitely Crown!

Andd.. Im assuming a Mary is a leader... Little lambs follow Mary after all... Hm. A lot of us have shown leadership at some point in time or another! It really depends on the scenario!”

Duke: “Intriguing.

It depends on the scenario you say?”

Donti: “Yep! People take charge depending on whats happening, and sometimes theres no leadership, just us discussing and working through it!

Why do you ask?”

Duke: “When the flocks have gone and left and all there is is the gentle bobbing of the water, who do you trust to save you from drowning? While you thrash and scream and feel yourself weaken who do you look towards for guidance? When the taste of salt kisses the interior of your esophagus whose name is on the tip of your dying tongue?

For I, it is the Crown, as he saved my sister and I from exactly that fate - but who is it for you?”

Donti: “Hm.. As a "flock" we all support one another.. That way, we can have multiple points of support! One person supporting that many people would be very stressful for that one person, you know”

Duke: “Of course.

Even then in a home all parts play along and join in the symphony but even with that, some are still load-bearing.

Who would be your load-bearing walls? All I ask is for some simple names, you understand. My curiosity is much like a cat, you see. Only satisfaction may truly bring me back.”

Donti: “Hm.. Are you asking for the names of my friends?

Well. There's Jack and Raeva, whom Duchess has spoken with, I think. Llyr, Ren, and Luna are also friends of mine. But I try not to burden them.

They are not so much load bearing pillars, but more of frail walls to shield me from the cold.”

Duke: “The drifting breezes that bring forth frost and tremors truly are such tiresome times. That you have shields is wonderful and it does ease my heart, but I do feel as though I must impart some wisdom else I'd be an unfavourable acquaintance - do try and build yourself a roaring inferno, little sheep.

Have so much fire around yourself that the winds cannot glance your way and even the Grand Archer Yi looks on with fear.”

Donti: “... And what if the fire burns me?

What then?”

Duke: “Do you think yourself unable to control the flames?”

Donti: “...Yes. Flames are temperamental, after all. When the inferno's dried up every last bit of water and eaten all of the wood, what will it turn to?”

Duke: “You want the answer to be yourself, I can see you reaching for it with an outstretched palm. Here is the truth: you can quell flames easily with just a few words. You can breathe in the ash and let the smoke dissipate. You do not have to be burned.

Ah, but these are just fun matters to think about. Do not dwell on my words too much. I would hate for you to overthink just simple pondering.”

Donti: “...Ill take your words to heart, friend. Even if it's just banter.

How do you know this?”

Duke: “Do not cause yourself concern with such a thing. In case I have caused you to distress then please do take this video as repentance. Isn't it so lovely how she spins?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qqejv_BQ7Zg”

Donti: “Oh! that is a pretty video.. I wonder how long it took for her to make it so effortless..?

Do you dance?”

Duke: “Such an exquisite form of art. The mastery she has put forth would bring others to shame and ruin. A true professional since birth. I myself do not dance in this way - my sister and I are well versed in the waltz and ballroom dance as is customary for our statuses - but ballet alludes me. Alas, if only that was the direction I chose for my life to go but no matter - I have embroidery, poetry and oil painting to keep me truly green from envy.”

Donti: “Those are very enviable hobbies! I imagine you're skilled at them too! As for ballet... Ive heard that in order to dance that way, one has to go through great pain. I'd hate for you to experience that”

Duke: “A bit of suffering is always worth the pain if beauty and joy can be received in the end, do you not think?”

Donti: “As long as youre happy, I suppose!

I’m sorry to cut this short, but its getting late for me! And probably for you too ^^

I hope you rest well!”

Duke: “I hope you have humble dreams and a quiet rest. Goodnight, little lamb.”

[lordseochangbin]

i wish it rained every saturday

a/n: lee felix angst + fluff. haha i love fefe, not proofread

for @0325stay ,, almost based on the cute guy that works at my local starbucks that ive literally never talked to sksk

“remember y/n, you can only write ONE WORD on the coffee order? no ‘girl with ugly pants’ or ‘cute boy thats comes every saturday when it rains”. thats just stupid’”

“that’s literally all you ally, now shut up. i actually write THEIR NAME on THEIR ORDER like youre supposed to” you closed the door to the coffee grains and passed ally, giving her a little shove to credit her obnoxious behavior.  

ally rolled her eyes, about to grab your shoulders on the spot before the bell rang near the entrance. thats right, it was saturday.. and it was raining. you felt a sudden pressure applied to your arms before you found yourself on the floor

“hi this is lordseochangbin’s coffee room [i hate how i implemented my user but i didn't feel like making up a name], how can i help you?” ally straightened her apron, giving a quick “don’t you dare fuck this up for me” look before diverting her attention back to the blonde boy. 

he was pretty, you had to admit. freckles spotted on his cheeks like a pretty dalmatian, you couldn't help but the count them all as if he were yours. but of course, it was a never ending count and the time to hand over a coffee to his table and say “here your coffee! -insert fake ass smile here-” was not enough to comply.

and how could you not notice that jawline? from the floor captured a good angle of his, and for a second you despised the insects on the wooden ground that you forgot to sweep earlier for they had rights to simply look up and see what others may call the sun. but as this all processed through you brain you noticed it wasn’t the ants looking at him- it was him looking at you.

“yeah i think i’ll get that” he nodded to quickly reassure himself. he smiled without his teeth, his lips forming a sideways line. kinda like that one emoji. “also.. are you okay?” he pointed to you.

ally raised her eyebrows in shock before turning to see you on the floor “oh yeah shes-”

“im fine” you got up, brushing your knees off of the dust “thanks for asking”. you shot him a quick smile, quickly returned by himself before he could say, “no problem, and dont make it to ‘cute boy that comes every saturday when it rains’, some people actually read that you know?”

you almost bursted in laughter as the boy walked away. leather jacket, black ripped jeans, and black doc martins. he seemed like the boy of your dreams, and now that you had experienced a bitter taste of his personality you liked it. not to the point like black roast but, somewhat sweet like vanilla. you loved it.

ally threw the small sized cup to you, the name tag unfilled and order still remaining. “chop chop!! get that coffee making, im gonna go apply some perfume and when i get back have that ready so i can give it to him” 

you rolled your eyes at ally, “fine” you muttered under your breath before turning on the coffee grinder, staring outside the window at the pouring rain

you noticed felix as well, staring outside with his wireless headphones in his ears. his lips pursed, and you could tell he was humming a really good song or just really thirsty.

after making the coffee you realized ally was probably doing her makeup as well, and as a few minutes passed by you assumed she may have been doing her hair. but the poor boy looked like he couldn’t wait any longer, so you picked up the coffee before realizing it had no name on it. 

with a marker in your hand, you’d realized he never really told you what to put. nor what to call him. he just told you what you shouldn’t call him. after a few seconds of contemplating, you decided to act like ally. except not in a few words, in one word.

i

thats what you wrote on the coffee cup before giving it to some other waitress to give to him. you watched from behind the counter as he received the coffee, taking it in his hand before checking out the name tag. “how” you could hear the words leave his inaudibly leave his lips and the hint of curiousness behind it.

your plan was working.

the next few days consisted of pure boredom. getting bullied by ally behind the counter and having to stay late at night as well. one week finally passed and you kept your hopes up that the weather app was correct, it would be raining. and the 80% chance gave you the strength to wake up and do your hair. for no reason though, because you knew ally would want to take his order and ally would want to talk to him.

but just in case, what’s to lose in dressing up decent for once?

you were on your break when felix came this time, but instead of ordering he walked straight to your table. your looking around in case he was mistaken as he sat across from you.

“hey, you’re the girl from earlier right?” he asked, dropping his things on the table in front of you.

“yeah, the one on the floor” you laughed to yourself

“my god” felix laughed along with you, sympathetically shaking his head “im so sorry about that”

“you knew why i was there?” you asked curiously

“oh come on, i know the little secret messages from your friend over the counter. but i really like your coffee, when are you back on your shift?”

“i never thought a guy would ask me to get back to work” you responded sarcastically, looking outside as the water droplets hit the cobblestone floor

“hey now, i just really like your coffee. can I get the usual pleaseeeee” felix begging in a baby-like voice caught your eye as you stared into his puppy eyes, immediately making you fall for them.

you quickly rolled your eyes before getting up from your chair, “fineee”

felix smiled at you, his cheeks turning a faint pink shade as he watched you go to the coffee grinder. “thank youuu”

you quickly put together his favorite order and gave it to ally, stealing a sharpie to write down a word on the name tag

really

“seriously?” ally asked, “can’t you just write down his name?”

“i don’t know his name, shouldn’t you?”

ally took the coffee from you, “watch me, ill get his name and his number” she was on her way to felix, placing his coffee in front of him and sitting in your seat from before.

you watched felix grab the coffee, looking at the word in awe. he picked it up, staring at post sides for a possible hidden message which made you chuckle considering he was more intrigued by the cup than the girl in front of him.

he looked towards the front counters, maybe in hopes of seeing you there but no- you hid behind as he walked out into the cold ran. and from there, according to the weather app, it wouldn’t rain until another 2 weeks.

the next saturday you didn’t expect his arrival. you constantly imagined it however. the way he’d take down his umbrella the second the door shut behind him, looking around for any open tables to accommodate. his pretty outfits made it harder not to fall in love as well, but you had to admit: a boy that came every saturday when it rained. why every saturday? why only when it rained?? it was a mystery behind a perfect man and you were the only one that speculated about it.

“hey y/n, can you do my midnight shift today? the cute boy isn’t coming so there’s no point in staying?” ally asked, her purse already in her hands

“you don’t think i have anything better to do?” you responded before getting a quick response.

“no, probably not. but i do, so see you later!”

and before you knew it ally was out the door.

you watched as people drank their coffees and read books or socialized with others. it was nice to know that people were still innocent enough to spend their saturdays like this. in a coffee shop like you were. but you knew they were doing so much better than you, better than the girl that was wishing itd rained this saturday, so you can give a message to the cute boy.

when everyone started to leave, you began to clean up before looking outside at the downpour. “mother nature, a little too late to comply to my wishes” you muttered to yourself. but almost on cue, you jumped on the spot as you saw the cute boy rush in- this time without an umbrella- into the store.

“am i too late?!” he asked, his heart beating out of his chest and his hair wet from the weather outside.

“dude you’re like soaking wet-”

“where’s the girl?!” he interrupted, looking past you to see no one there

“what girl?” you asked

“the girl that’s always behind the counter, always giving me those stupid messages. god, all i can think about is how her message will end. i have two words but i can’t seem to figure out the rest?! im 100% sure i have an idea but-“

“wait...” you interrupted, dropping your mop to the floor “you didn’t think ANYTHING of those messages? like maybe they actually came from someone’s heart or something?”

“oh come on” felix retorted, “it’s obviously she just likes me cause she thinks im cute or something. i mean who writes messages on coffee cups?”

shy girls that work till 12pm and get bullied by their own co-workers. you thought to yourself

“me... i do” you said in a somewhat like whisper but loud enough for him to hear

“it was you?” he responded in shock

“yes, but if it really meant nothing then i apologize. im sorry i bothered you with my ‘stupid messages’”

“no no!!” the boy grabbed your hands, holding them in his palm. they were freezing cold and no matter how much you hated him in that moment you wanted to hold them forever. “im sorry.. i didn’t mean it like that”

“yes you did, the whole idea was dumb and im sorry for that”

“y/n..” he read off your tag, “finish the message. i promise i won’t judge” he gave your hands a little squeeze making you look into his dark brown eyes. his breaths were softer in the moment, making your heart beat increase and you felt him come closer to you.

“i really... i really like you” you said, closing your eyes at how stupid it sounded at loud.

“you really like me?” he questioned, looking into your eyes as your slowly opened them

you nodded your head before he could pull you into a hug, “i really like you too, almost as much as i like your coffee”

[supersoftdary]

hey pals, sorry ive been so absent. and rlly sorry for not replying to requests and asks. i’m not trying to ignore anyone or seem ungrateful for getting them. i appreciate every ask i receive, every request is viewed w excitement. i hold them so v dear. i take a LONG time bc i give all your comments/suggestions/requests A LOT of thought, and rlly wanna make my responses as good as i can. and as i’ve been dealing w a lot, i’ve not been able to fully invest myself in the writing, if i’m able to write at all. which tbh i haven’t been averaging more than a line a day. unfortunate ik. i do apologize so much.

my personal life took some major hits in june. things are just starting to look like they’re headed in a better direction. and i’m hoping. that’ll mean more activity from me on here. hoping to. get back to writing and creating for patreon. creating lk stuff may be on hold while i dive back into my sv obsession. suuuuper jarrich bitch over here. zach and tom are everything and so good at what they do. and esp on that show. 

anyway come chat me up if u are so inclined. i was re-reading some of the super soft, kind, helpful bits of feedback y’all have left on the warry stuff i made public and it got me all misty eyed. fuckin 10ply o’here bud. wanted to do some thank yous. just letting u all know that i do screenshot and save every comment and use them to inspire me, help me continue, and uplift me when im struggling. big shout outs to:

 @bookgirlfan  who left one of the most lengthy feedback comments i’ve ever had the pleasure of getting. the insight was so well put and so needed bc it was a longer fic and i was so fuckin nervous to post.

@modeans3 for the immediate sweetness and love and the posi vibes RADIATE. and being such a pal to answer questions i posit that p much everyone overlooks. lol. warms my heart to chat w u always sugarplum

@ficfucker fuck. immediate kinship w one of the BEST warry writers ever. so humbled and grateful for the instant support u gave to me. and for always letting me go fully AWF abt my fic ideas/current stuff/daydreams/etc and amping me up and when u add on and then we are BOTH building a thing together?! i live and die fer it. 

@junk-food-forever who i got into this lil show and am so happy shes always down to read for me when im fuckin terrified to show the fandom my work. she’s also p much my sister and i would follow her to the ends of the earth. i love her. she’s my best friend. and she’s a saint and a goddess and an angel fairy made of sunshine and moonglow.

sincerely don’t wanna come off too strong bc i always worry abt doing that and scaring ppl off, but u guys all made an impact on me. u made me feel welcomed, appreciated, AND SEEN. u have to understand, before this i was just a grain of sand in the seb fandom sea where i witnessed a lot of petty games and silencing of unique ideas and just a kinda lack of diversity all around. then i come here and feel so supported by like everyone for who i am and what i wanna do w my content. whereas before it felt like trying to sell my wares to the main blogs so they could greenlight me and then i’d be accepted into the fold for the others? so fuckin bizarre-o. it was weird and kinda fucky and yeah. but not to say i didn’t make some v amazing pals along the way. those folks know me and agree w me that the toxicity is rampant. but they are also not just contained to mcu/seb and all that so. anyway sorry for getting all sappy and mush and softer ‘an shit on all a y’alls. i just. just rlly don’t wanna step away from this. ik i was gone fer a bit, and i can’t promise it won’t happen again if my health dips again. but. just wanted to ig let yous know im still here and ilysm. 

[jimio-nnie]

Hush, baby. [Taehyung x reader]

Word Count: 2.8k+ Rating: NSFW Genre: Smut Warnings: Vaginal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, Basically a naughty backseat fuck. Pairings: Kim Taehyung x Reader Summary: You’re a new staff at BigHit entertainment and it will be your first time in participating in their photoshoot as a makeup artist. What happened if you got left behind by your seniors and unknowingly ended up sitting in the same van as BTS; more specifically on your celebrity-crush’s laps? It wouldn’t take long until the friction against his crotch peaked your arousal.

You’re helping the other staffs pile in their camera equipment into the back of the staff’s van since you’ve already stuffed your bag pack in the boot earlier before.As a new makeup artist trainee, it was only basic courtesy for you to help out your seniors. 

The staff along with BTS members are going to attend another night photo shoot for their new upcoming album and your heart is leaping with joy and excitement from the thought of working together for the first time with the boys.

“Ah, I forgot another bag I’m supposed to bring…” 

you heard your senior murmured to another staff whilst wiping away the droplets of sweat off his forehead with a sigh. You smiled softly and patted his shoulder gently, knowing he’s tired from carrying the heavy photographing equipment.

“Its alright, oppa. Ill take it for you in a sec!” 

you beamed, flashing him a smile that made some of the other staff laugh along at your senior’s flabbergasted face when he tried to stop you but you’re already skipping your way inside the building.

“Aish.. y/n, that girl is such a help.” he huffed and proceeded on loading in other stuffs into the boot. Meanwhile, you were totally clueless when you’ve reached the staff’s room. 

Smacking your forehead at your own carelessness to not ask your seniors regarding the details of the bag you’re supposed to retrieve, you looked around the room absent-mindedly. It has been fifteen minutes and you could almost hear your heart pounding in your chest as you panicked, besides you didn’t want to slow down everybody and delay the photo shoot.

Just as you’re digging into your pocket for your phone, you heard the doorknob buckled, signing that someone’s about to enter. With a grin on your face, you ran infront of the door, expecting to be greeted by your senior who would tell you off for being slow-- but you know he had a soft spot for your every single time you flash him a smile.

He’d often say that you reminded him of his little sister and a head pat would always follow afterwards, making you hum, pleased of the feeling of acceptance.

To your surprise, the person who peeked into the room was not your senior but one of BTS member. And at that case, it was Taehyung, someone you had a huge crush on--- which actually brought you down to your knees when you first received a letter that your job application has been accepted by BigHit. 

Your mouth gaped open when you saw him because you didn’t expect that would would even meet any of BTS member upfront this close so early.

 “Ah I thought Jimin was hiding in here somewhere. We couldn’t find him and we are already about to take our leave.” he explained before taking a step back and opening the door further to take a better look towards you.

With your mind still blank, you shook your head frantically, signing that Jimin wasn’t indeed in the particular room you’re in.

“Are you a new staff? I’ve never seen you before,” he took a step closer, his taller figure looming over yours. You only managed to nod several times, hands clutching against your chest as if to prevent a cardiac arrest to occur. You could’ve sworn that he can hear your heart violently pounding against your ribcage.

With a low chuckle, he lowered his body so that he could look into your eyes and you felt his index finger gently pushing your chin upwards so that your gaping mouth is closed.

“There, I’m afraid you’d catch flies with that pretty mouth,” He almost whispered and you swooned at the close proximity between the both of you. You weren’t sure whether it was just your imagination and admiration for him exaggerating the whole situation but you could almost feel his warmth breath against your lips.

“T-t-thank you, sir” you stammered, not certain of what you should call him by. Standing tall again, he winked down towards you before replying.

“It’s alright, you can just call me V. And what’s your name?”

  Oh. My. God.

  Hearing his rich, deep chuckle was already enough to send your knees buckling to the floor and you wouldn’t even want to know what would happen if your name slip across his lips.

“Hyuuunnggggg come on! We’re latee!” Jimin’s whine resounded from afar and before you could even tell him your name, Taehyung was dragged away by Jimin and you were sure your heart dropped to the floor.

It was when your phone vibrated that you realized what you came into the staff room for. You took out your phone and panicked when it was your senior who called, immediately picking up and bracing yourself for the scolding.

“Oppa im--” before you could even apologize, he interjected right afterwards.

 “y/n? We already made our way to the shooting site. And I forgot that I already took that bag so I’m reaallyy sorry. I promise I’d treat you to a dinner today!” He explained himself in one breath and a sense of relief filled you after knowing he wasn’t mad at you. But your eyebrows furrowed a few seconds afterwards after digesting his sentence.

“W-what? You’re already on your way there? What about me?” You paced back and forth across the room, not knowing what to do. You couldn’t even take a cab there as your purse was also in the staff’s van.

“It’s alright! We went first without you because the van was packed and there’s no more seat and we also had to set up the place earlier. It’s alright though, ive informed the manager and he said there might be an available seat in the boys’ van.”

Your mouth was left hanging open at the thought of taking the same vehicle as the BTS members and you couldn’t even focus at what your senior was talking about afterwards.

 You were sure your heart just burst.

Making your way out of the building and not wasting any more time, you easily recognize the black van you would be boarding with them.

“Get in,” you heard the BTS manager’s voice as the boys slowly get into the van. As you approached him, he glanced over his shoulder towards you before flashing you a smile.

“I’ve been informed that you’d be joining us today! Please get in too” he put his hand gently on your back, urging your freezing form to enter the van as you’re visibly panicking by the thought of seeing Taehyung again.

“Um.. where am I sitting though--” you mumbled as you scanned the packed van, your body was already halfway in. The manager peeked into the van and scratched his neck nervously, obviously not expecting this situation. He was sure that there would be at least one available space and soon realized that he had miscalculated.

 He didn’t count himself in earlier.

 You still could not believe the situation you’re in, awkwardly sitting on someone’s lap in the very back of the van with equipment and clothes at your side. Going completely stone-like on Taehyung’s lap, you looked over the front row where Hoseok and Jimin were laughing at something Jin had said. 

In front of you, Yoongi had earbuds stuffing his ears and Namjoon was silently talking to Jungkook, probably regarding their upcoming photo shoot. To your realization, everyone was holding something over their laps in the packed vehicle and your face reddened once again at the thought of who you’re sitting on.

“Are you alright back there? This is what happens when our manager rent a van for a last minute schedule.” Jin joked which sent the whole van laughing and you could feel Taehyung’s chest vibrating with a chuckle right behind you.

After a few minutes, you could feel hands on your shoulders, pulling you backwards towards Taehyung’s sturdy chest.

 “I noticed that you’ve been sitting up straight for quite a long time and it must have hurt your back.” He murmured and you looked over your shoulder towards him to see him smiling warmly.

 “S-sorry I must be heavy and this whole situation must have made you uncomfortable--” you rambled but was cut off by him halfway through.

“Hey, hey, its alright. You’re not heavy and all and besides, you’re working hard with the other staffs for us. This is the least I could do.” He hummed and you almost choked at how genuine and considerate he sounded.

You mumbled out a thanks and he only nodded, throwing his gaze out of the window afterwards so you wouldn’t feel too awkward as you leaned back towards him.

“Hang on,” 

the driver warned and before you could even braced yourself for what’s coming next, the van hit a bump on the road, sending your head bumping onto the ceiling. Your bottom that was partially lifted from Taehyung’s lap landed back down right across his crotch.

 The murmurs of amusement for those who were obviously enjoying the ride so far silenced Taehyung’s gasp from behind you as you’re also busy whining to yourself and rubbing over the sore spot on your head which hit the ceiling. 

He shifted a little, looking over towards you discreetly under his long lashes and sighed quietly when he realized that you didn’t notice.

Relaxing back your tensed body, you leaned back against him, repositioning yourself comfortably. What you didn’t realized was that the friction you’ve put against his crotch was sending his blood rushing over that area and he couldn’t act fast enough to muffle his groan.

Thinking that he must have been bothered from the bumpy ride earlier, you apologized to him, trying to twist your body backwards to look at him which sent his head stretching backwards and leaning onto the seat from the pleasure, his throat exposed. The pressure was already too much and your twisting and turning added more to the growing arousal washing over him.

 “I-its alright. W..What’s your name again?” 

He lifted his head to look at you and acted normal, trying to distract himself by making a conversation.

“My name is y/n. Its honestly an honor to meet you.” 

You answered, not missing the piercing look in his eyes as he kept his gaze on you.

“I see, y/n..” He repeated, testing your name on his lips and he couldn’t help that his voice dropped a few octaves lower which abruptly sent your pussy clenching. His deep voice was so close to you, right behind your right ear and he didn’t miss the shudder that ran up your spine.

 Each bump and turns made him squirm more and he tried to focus on something else to avoid thinking about the growing boner in his pants. With every few seconds, he’d look at you nervously to see if you’d noticed and he was sure that by this time it was hard not to.

What he didn’t know was that with each bump, you could feel his hardness rubbed against your core, and even though you tried to control yourself, it was getting you wet. 

You considered adjusting where you was sitting, but was worried it would embarrass him if you let on that you could feel his erection. So instead, you tried to control your bouncing by pressing your hands down on the seatback in front of you.

“There’s a big bump coming upfront.”

the driver warned again, and by reflex, you placed your hands on the ceiling to avoid yourself from lifting up and bumping your head again. As your pushed onto the ceiling, you were unconsciously placing your weight to sink more into Taehyung’s lap.

With your eyes still focusing forward, you could hear his sharp intake of breath and you didn’t expect the words that followed next.

 “Fuck, y/n…” he breathed out almost silently and you were sure he thought you couldn’t hear him.

“J-jimin, how much longer until we arrive there?” His voice resounded past your right ear and you tightened your thighs.

“About an hour I guess” he answered and Taehyung tensed up behind your, his erection prodding against your wetness and you whimpered softly. Namjoon glanced back towards you and murmured, “Just hang in there alright?”

You returned his kind gaze with a small smile and nodded. “Im alright,” you answered and just when he turned his head the other way, Taehyung’s hands slithered over your thighs, resting there in the most sensual way you could’ve ever imagined.

 ‘Ah fuck it’ Taehyung thought to himself, perfectly aware that you must have felt his erection from underneath you already.

“Lean on me.” He breathed on your neck and you quivered on his lap at how it sounded like a command and you quickly obeyed, clamping down on your lips in fear you’d let out a whimper from the friction against your wetness.

He left slow open-mouthed kisses alongside your neck and you were so glad that it was too dark outside for any of the members inside the van to notice. You unconsciously grinded down against him as he gently sucked and nibbled at the skin in between your shoulder and neck, careful not to leave a mark.

“Ah-- mmm stop…” you raised a hand to hold his face still and he roughly grabbed onto the bare flesh of your thigh, your knee-length skirt already hitched up.

 “Stop what?” he whispered into your ear, teasingly blowing hot air into it and leaving a wet strip of saliva along your earshell. His deep voice almost caused you to let out a moan and god, you’ve never wanted someone so badly before.

“Hey, you guys alright back there?” the manager asked and Taehyung was quick to detach his lips off your skin before replying.

“Yeah we’re good. Aren’t we, y/n?” You could feel the smirk in his sentence as he slipped his left hand underneath your skirt, running his index finger tenderly along your clothed wet slit.

With both of your hands desperately clenching the cloth of our skirt into a bunch in order to hold back a moan, you raised your head and realized that everyone was looking your way when you didn’t provide them with an answer.

“Im o-- ah! Okay.. Im alright-” You yelped in between your sentence as Taehyung lazily rubbed a circle against your clit, taking advantage of you in this moment and teasing you.

  That asshole knew what he’s doing.

  “Are you sure?” Jimin, being the kind person he is, was concerned when you let out a soft yelp. Slightly shifting your position as a sign for Taehyung to stop his assault on you, you nodded.

“It was just, my head suddenly hurts from bumping onto the ceiling earlier, thats--” You couldn’t finish your sentence as the ruthless man behind you slipped his hand into your underwear and pinched your clit in between his fingers.

You jolted at his boldness and were relieved that no one realized that you didn’t even get to complete your sentence earlier.

 “Hold your voice, babygirl. If you don’t want to get us in trouble of course..” He growled into your ear as his fingers teased your wetness. Without a warning, he dipped two of his fingers into your entrance before quickly pulling it out and you almost swore at how much of a tease he’s being.

Smearing the wetness enclosing his fingers on the skin of your thigh, he leaned forward and rested his chin on your shoulder to look down to your laps.

Separating his index and middle fingers, he whispered lowly into your right ear which sent you gushing for him.

“See how wet you are? So tight and ready for me..” His voice resounded from his chest as a low grumble, dripping with arousal and lust.

 “Take off your underwear if you wanted this.”

[zombiequincy]

THE MEGA RP PLOTTING SHEET / MEME.

First and foremost, recall that no one is perfect, we all had witnessed some plotting once which did not went too well, be it because of us or our partner. So here have this, which may help for future plotting. It’s a lot! Yes, but perhaps give your partners some insight? Anyway BOLD what fully applies, italicize if only somewhat.

MUN NAME: Hela     AGE: 21       CONTACT: IM

CHARACTER(S): Giselle Gewelle, Yumichika Ayasegawa (inactive)

CURRENT FANDOM(S): Bleach

BLEACH FANDOM(S) YOU HAVE AN AU FOR:  I have gory Bloodborne au but that one just exists in my head on my lonesome.

MY LANGUAGE(S): English and one very specific Middle Eastern dialect.

THEMES I’M INTERESTED IN FOR RP: FANTASY / Science fiction / Horror / WESTERN / ROMANCE / Thriller / MYSTERY / DYSTOPIA / ADVENTURE / MODERN / Erotic / Crime / MYTHOLOGY / Classic / HISTORY / RENAISSANCE / MEDIEVAL / Ancient / WAR / FAMILY / POLITICS / RELIGION / SCHOOL / ADULTHOOD / CHILDHOOD / APOCALYPTIC / GODS / Sport / MUSIC / Science / FIGHTS / ANGST / Smut / DRAMA / etc. 

PREFERRED THREAD LENGTH: one-liner / 1 para / 2 PARA / 3+ / NOVELLA.

ASKS CAN BE SEND BY: MUTUALS / NON-MUTUALS / PERSONALS / ANONS.

CAN ASKS BE CONTINUED?:   YES / NO    only by Mutuals?:  YES / NO.

PREFERRED THREAD TYPE: CRACK / casual nothing too deep / SERIOUS / DEEP AS HECK. (i love it all sorry I am quite the mixed bag lmao)

IS REALISM / RESEARCH IMPORTANT FOR YOU IN CERTAIN THEMES?:   YES / NO. i gotta know what certain human body parts taste like u know

ARE YOU ATM OPEN FOR NEW PLOTS?:  YES / NO / DEPENDS.

DO YOU HANDLE YOUR DRAFT / ASK - COUNT WELL?:  YES / NO / SOMEWHAT. it’s SO BAD FOR ME RN ASGLDKJDJKA i’m very inconsistent i’m so sorry.

HOW LONG DO YOU USUALLY TAKE TO REPLY?: 24H / 1 WEEK / 2 WEEKS / 3+ / months / years. / a lot of it has more to do w my general writing mood and if the thread im writing catches my interest, and rn im writing a TON of really wonderful and fascinating threads so they’re all super captivating for me and i try to reply asap

I’M OKAY WITH INTERACTING: ORIGINAL CHARACTERS / a relative of my character (an oc) / duplicates / MY FANDOM / CROSSOVERS / MULTI-MUSES / self-inserts / people with no AU verse for my fandom / CANON-DIVERGENT PORTRAYALS / AU-VERSIONS.

DO YOU POST MORE IC OR OOC?: IC / OOC. (i have a lot of stupid shit sorry) 

ARE YOU SELECTIVE WITH FOLLOWING OTHERS?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.  

BEST WAYS TO APPROACH YOU FOR RP/PLOTTING: just send me a tumblr instant message, i know it sucks shit but im not comfy releasing my discord w everyone just yet cause i use it for personal use as well. i check tumblr on the daily so if you send me a message chances are i’ll see it and respond!

WHAT EXPECTATIONS DO YOU HOLD TOWARDS YOUR PLOTTING PARTNER:  i guess just be able to put up with my rambling and stopping and starting, a lot of characterisation choices i do go through various stages and its pretty messy so when i communicate that with others it usually ends up equally messy. just be patient with me please.

WHEN YOU NOTICE THE PLOTTING IS RATHER ONE-SIDED, WHAT DO YOU DO?:  i don’t mind! sometimes ppl have more ideas that they want to share first and i’m always super happy to listen to those ideas !! sometimes its nice to have someone with a clear guide or structure and be able to work around that rather than trying to fumble through a plot together.

HOW DO YOU USUALLY PLOT WITH OTHERS, DO YOU GIVE INPUT OR LEAVE MOST WORK TOWARDS YOUR PARTNER?:  i try to map out some basic info abt their characters that i otherwise don’t know from their bio or verses and try to pick out points of confrontation or similarities to expand on with giselle that can be used as points for like a starter to happen. its either that or sometimes i have really stupid ideas i just toss out there like ‘LMAO THEYRE BREAKING SHIT AT DISNEYLAND’ and go buck wild from there if the other person is down. i also always try to warn people or get a gauge for what subjects to avoid and steer clear of considering that giselle is a bit of a Freak(tm) and will say and do bad things.

WHEN A PARTNER DROPS THE THREAD, DO YOU WISH TO KNOW?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. - And why?: if there’s something giselle did or said that upset you, i would love to know not to repeat it again (since i do still feel pretty new to the rp game, theres still plenty of time for me to make stupid mistakes). if its just a general lack of interest or uncertainty of where the plot should go, then you dont have to tell me i wont take it personally i promise ! 

WHAT COULD POSSIBLY LEAD YOU TO DROP A THREAD?: sometimes i can be made uncomfortable by certain things mentioned... it happens but its rare 

- WILL YOU TELL YOUR PARTNER?:   YES / NO / DEPENDS. i don’t want to upset anyone personally and sometimes explaining the ins and outs of my discomfort make things ten times worse so i just. would rather not.

IS COMMUNICATION IN THE RPC IMPORTANT TO YOU? YES / NO.

- AND WHY?: i am the most nervous person you can meet and my brain is always giving me misinfo abt paranoia and random shit so i having clear concrete communication between two parties abt if something is going wrong or is being received poorly means the world to me.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH ABSOLUTE HONESTY, EVEN IF IT MAY MEANS HEARING SOMETHING NEGA1TIVE ABOUT YOU AND/OR PORTRAYAL?: i need it !! i still feel relatively new to all this and i need to know whats going wrong to improve !! 

DO YOU THINK YOU CAN HANDLE SUCH SITUATION IN A MATURE WAY? YES / NO.

WHY DO YOU RP AGAIN, IS THERE A GOAL?: to help with my confidence in writing! i have v bad anxiety when it comes to sharing my works and i write a lot of other pieces alongside this blog on ao3 and i want to develop my writing skills just in general. when it comes to like the nuts and bolts of why i rp giselle specifically, its mainly to just have fun and have a laugh w my friends who are really awesome quincy writers

WISHLIST, BE IT PLOTS OR SCENARIOS:  OH SO MANY! ive managed to fulfil a lot of my wishlist threads with like, giselle talking to characters she’s already zombified and i love all that angst but i want to do more stupid shit. i want to make it my personal goal to bully every quincy man and woman on sight. although a REAL dream would be if i got to write a thread zombifying a character who managed to escape giselle’s clutches. and more fighting! i want to get better at describing action and fights and i love to write giselle getting beat up and beating people up! more more more!! 

THEMES I WON’T EVER RP / EXPLORE:   hohoho theres a LOT... uh r*pe/dubcon threads for one, even if yeah i know writing it doesnt condone it, it makes me intensely uncomfortable to put my muse in that scenario, i feel like i have an obligation to like, protect her from that shit you know? racism is one i don’t want to transgress, even though i’m a poc, its not really cathartic or groundbreaking to write abt racism in threads its just... really fucking upsetting. also i know the quincy’s have this very close parallel to the whole n*zi imagery and ideology thing going on and i am not about to start even daring to thread that into my writing or bring those allusions and references of real life tragedies into giselle’s threads. i’ve already talked at length abt exploring giselles trans identity in rp and why im not comfortable doing so, so.... yeah! all those i guess.

WHAT TYPE OF STARTERS DO YOU PREFER / DISLIKE, CAN’T WORK WITH?: i like starters where giselle can just immediately get right into being a piece of shit. mise en scene and all that! cut out the build up and just get to the intense horror !! i don’t like starters where its not immediately clear where the characters are standing and what they’re doing and what’s happening around them. those really disorientate me and leave me kinda floundering because i always need some allusion or mention of a setting to ground giselle in a time and place other wise i cant tell what her response should be

WHAT TYPE OF CHARACTERS CATCH YOUR INTEREST THE MOST?:  EVIL WOMEN EVIL WOMEN EVIL WOMEN. also just characters i can wholeheartedly clown on, or also characters who have hidden depths to them and have a single panel of screentime. honestly it’s just all over the place!

WHAT TYPE OF CHARACTERS CATCH YOUR INTEREST THE LEAST?:  angry old men GSADJDKSJA i could never rp yhwach for example or yamamoto because idk. theyre just so crummy and boring to me. i also couldnt rp characters who always have an upper hand in battle like aizen. i like my dumbasses and i like them stupid and adaptive not just, ‘yes i know this because i Know this.’

WHAT ARE YOUR STRONG ASPECTS AS RP PARTNER?: i think im nice...? FKSJDKDJSA idk i hate trying to toot my own horn. sometimes i also think i make funny jokes and im pretty chill and laid back

WHAT ARE YOUR WEAK ASPECTS AS RP PARTNER?: my writing style is inconsistent and adapts to whatever i’m reading so sometimes it’ll be really good and i love it and other times it reads like really bad fanfic and i get carried away far too easily and write novella lengths for threads which should be much shorter. i also get shy a lot and dont think i communicate very effectively but HEYO we’re working on it!

DO YOU RP SMUT?:  YES / NO/ DEPENDS. haven’t had anybody brave enough to try yet lol

DO YOU PREFER TO GO INTO DETAIL?: YES / NO / DEPENDS.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH BLACK CURTAIN?: YES / NO.

- WHEN DO YOU RP SMUT? MORE OUT OF FUN OR CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT?: more for fun i’d imagine because that’s just giselles own attitude to sex and relationships where she doesnt want anything deep. it might show character development in one way of just showing how she regards others in a romantic sense to be used rather than actually appreciated as their own person and show how selfish she is but yeah, more out of fun

- ANYTHING YOU WOULD NOT WANT TO RP THERE?:  theres a few kinks and such but i dont think they’d ever really come up. again, just mainly no r*pe/dubcon.

ARE SHIPS IMPORTANT TO YOU?:   YES / NO lets hope this doesn’t make me sound like an asshole, but its more like a fun little side thing than anything important to giselle’s actual development and characterisation. 

WOULD YOU SAY YOUR BLOG IS SHIP-FOCUSED?: YES / NO. again, hardly anyone is brave enough to try to romance this evil cannibal.

DO YOU USE READ MORE?:  YES / NO / SOMETIMES WHEN I WRITE LONG STUFF.

ARE YOU:  MULTI-SHIP / Single-Ship / Dual-Ship  —  MULTIVERSE / Singleverse.

- WHAT DO YOU LOVE TO EXPLORE THE MOST IN YOUR SHIPS?: more how giselle likes to give over her power or dominate in different circumstances depending on who she’s with and what’s being done. BUT AGAIN, not a whole lot to explore yet.

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIPS?: YES / NO. - i mean im down for p much anything if it vibes w giselle.

► SECTION ABOUT YOUR MUSE.

- WHAT COULD POSSIBLY MAKE YOUR MUSE INTERESTING TOWARDS OTHERS, WHY SHOULD THEY RP WITH THIS PARTICULAR CHARACTER OF YOURS NOW, WHAT POSSIBLE PLOTS DO THEY OFFER?: if you want an evil woman to taunt and mock and hurt your muse, she’s your gal. you want her to zombify and ruin your muse, shes also your gal. you want her to insult and maim and injure, she’s also YOUR GAL. basically, if you want to do anything fucked up or sad or scary, she can help with that.

- WITH WHAT TYPE OF MUSES DO YOU USUALLY STRUGGLE TO RP WITH?:  uh muses who get really angry quickly or don’t rise or respond to her jabs and are just kinda like a flatline. theres only so much pestering and annoying she can do until realises its not working and just wanders off

- WHAT DO THEY DESIRE, IS THEIR GOAL?:  to find a goal worth living for.

- WHAT CATCHES THEIR INTEREST FIRST WHEN MEETING SOMEONE NEW?:  appearance she always takes an interest in girls almost right away. age as well because she judges old people. 

- WHAT DO THEY VALUE IN A PERSON?:  a good set of guts to ruin and strong muscles.

- WHAT THEMES DO THEY LIKE TALKING ABOUT?:  women, gore, murder, herself, music, stupid memes, gossip.

- WHICH THEMES BORE THEM?:  politics, history, quincy ideology, soul reaper ideology, hollow physiology.

- DID THEY EVER WENT THROUGH SOMETHING TRAUMATIC?:  her family tried to force the burden of upholding the quincy lineage onto her shoulders, she was thrown into the wrong prison and held in isolation, then pressured to become an undying monster in service of a god and then was nearly killed by that same man and left wandering without guidance or purpose. so, yeah?

- WHAT COULD LEAD TO AN INSTANT KILL?:  transphobia. even a whiff of it in her direction and she’ll gut you like a fish.

- IS THERE SOMEONE /-THING THEY HATE?:  the twink soul reaper who outted her.

IS YOUR MUSE EASY TO APPROACH?: YES / NO. - Best ways to approach them?:  if you’re smart, you’ll bring a big bone for her to chew on and distract her while you ask whatever you want.

SOMETHING YOU MAY STILL WANT TO POINT OUT ABOUT YOUR MUSE?: i love my evil queen!

CONGRATS!!! You managed it, now tag your mutuals! ♥

Tagged by:  @bazzardburner​ cheers chicken boy !!

Tagging: @hyouketsu​ @blooming5th​ @viciousvizard​ @glacies-tempestatem​ and whoever else wishes to do this!!