#because this will mess everything up for a while

[mooningningg]

notes, I can smell the requests from a mile away.

genre. smut, MINORS DNI!

★ Roommate!Sukuna after crossing a line as roommates.

You weren’t stupid.

You knew what happened that night on the couch wasn’t just about heat. It was months of tension breaking open — long stares, petty fights, tight silences that dragged on too long, and finally, him, on your lips and in your throat like he’d been dying for it.

You thought maybe it would stop there.

A one-time mistake. A line crossed, then never spoken of again.

But then came the next morning.

You were in the kitchen, groggy and still wearing his damn t-shirt. Sukuna walked in, shirtless, scratched red from your nails, hair a mess. He looked at you for exactly one second before pulling you in by the waist and kissing your neck without a word.

You barely had time to catch your breath before he whispered, “C’mere,” and dropped to his knees again — right there by the fridge.

Didn’t even ask.

Didn’t need to.

That became routine.

A few nights later, it was the kitchen again. You were making ramen, talking on the phone, completely unaware of him watching you from the doorway with that expression — dark, hungry, smug.

The second you hung up, he was on you. Bent over the counter, shirt yanked up, mouth on you like he hadn’t tasted anything all day. You came shaking against the cabinets, one hand gripping the edge of the sink, the other shoved into his hair.

He didn’t say anything after. Just smirked, tapped your thigh, and told you to finish your noodles.

No sex. Not yet.

It wasn’t some agreement you made. It just hadn’t happened. He hadn’t pushed. You hadn’t offered.

But everything else? Fair game.

Showers together? Happening.

You’d be rinsing shampoo out of your hair, and he’d slip in behind you, hands on your waist like he owned the space. He’d press lazy kisses to your shoulder while lathering your soap onto your skin — never crossing the line, but toeing it so hard you sometimes had to leave the shower early just to breathe.

You tried to play it cool.

Tried to act like you weren’t thinking about his mouth constantly, like your legs didn’t shake when he brushed past you in the hallway, like your thighs didn’t clench whenever he muttered something low and smug in your ear.

But the switch flipped when you brought up boundaries.

It was casual. You were sitting on the couch, scrolling. He sat beside you, hand on your thigh — not doing anything, just there. Like it belonged.

You cleared your throat. “We should talk.”

He didn’t look up from his phone. “Talk about what?”

“This whole… situation. Whatever we’re doing. We should set some boundaries.”

That got his attention.

Sukuna glanced over at you, lazy smirk forming. “Boundaries?”

“Yeah. Like… no jealousy. No acting like this is something it’s not.”

He laughed.

Actually laughed.

“Right,” he said, nodding like he was agreeing with you. “Not a relationship.”

You felt a knot twist in your chest.

But you didn’t argue. You just said “right” and got up to make tea.

That should’ve been the end of it.

Except it wasn’t.

Because two days later, Sukuna showed up outside your job.

Not just waiting outside — leaning against the hood of his car, arms crossed, eyes scanning the sidewalk like a bodyguard with a grudge.

You blinked. “Did I ask you to pick me up?”

He looked you up and down, unimpressed. “Didn’t feel like waiting for you to Uber through creeps.”

The next day, it was his hand on your lower back when you were out shopping. The next, it was his arm slung around your waist in public. Then it was him glaring down a barista who complimented your smile.

You finally snapped.

“You’re being weird.”

He blinked. “Huh?”

You turned to face him in the hallway, arms crossed. “You said it’s not a relationship.”

“It’s not.”

“So why are you acting like my boyfriend?”

He shrugged, completely unfazed.

“Just making sure you don’t forget who you’re fucking.”

Your jaw dropped.

He stepped closer, mouth curling into a smirk, voice dropping low.

“Or do you want someone else to find out how good your legs shake when I’ve got my tongue in you?”

You shoved his shoulder. “Sukuna.”

He just grinned, eyes dancing. “What? I’m being respectful. Not like I’ve fucked you. Yet.”

You hated how your breath hitched at the word.

He stepped even closer, brushing hair out of your face with one ringed hand.

“When I do, though…” he whispered, voice like sin, “boundaries won’t save you.”

Then he kissed your cheek — slow, deliberate — and walked away.

Just like that.

Leaving you hot, bothered, and one hundred percent aware that your situationship had stopped being casual the second he got your taste in his mouth.

Taglist, @humeysaga @williamafton26 @aranisbaee @probablynotleahhhh @probablynotleahhhh. @beaniesayshi @levifiance @rinofcike @fushiguroooozzz @gojoscumslut @bellsoftheball @kunascutie. @after-laughter-come-tears. @minasuniverse, @chewiebee @ilovebeansya @drowsysausagedog, @shroomysstuff, @angel4-miba @paperalphys.

[arcanetrivia]

The thing about Discord is that just finding a server that has the conversations you're interested in can be difficult. Privately hosted email lists had this kind of problem too, that you sometimes could only even find out they existed by word of mouth, never mind join them. Sometimes you have to know a guy who knows a guy to get a hold of an invite code that hasn't expired by the time you come across it. (I get why they made the change that you couldn't make permanent ones if you weren't a Community server, but it can be frustrating sometimes.) Official servers for $THING may be listed publicly on $THING's website, but that's not the same as a by-fans-for-fans space that will probably have a much different culture and tone. There's Disboard, but not everything is on it. The central directory of a place like Yahoo Groups (whatever their other faults), being able to find communities and people that list certain interests on LiveJournal, the generally public or at least semi-public nature of a forum that can be found by a search engine... all of these supported discoverability. (And in my current primary fandom, besides the figurative "private group chat" that a Discord server is, I know there's some significant activity in literal private group chat. So unless you can somehow get admitted to a pre-existing group of friends, welp.)

IRC as a synchronous chat platform/protocol was there for a long time alongside (and is still in some cases, even with the ascendancy of Discord), and a lot of that ephemeral stuff has been lost unless people kept logs. But we're in a situation now where pretty much all there is, is the ephemeral, be it Discord, Twitter/Bluesky/Mastodon, Facebook (seems to actively work against finding and keeping up on what you want), Instagram (somehow even worse; my beloathed). DeviantArt worked decently well for a while, but every time they messed up site changes and policies in a way that angered artists, there was an exodus (similar to the waves of exodus from LiveJournal until now it's a ghost town unless you're Russian). Pillowfort... exists... but I am skeptical it's ever going to gain critical mass, even if Tumblr does completely go under one of these days.

And Tumblr itself... is better than nothing, but of course we all know how hard it can be to find things on because a lot of the older stuff isn't even indexed; and its structure really doesn't support coherent threaded conversation; and it's a bit too-little-too-late on their introduction of LJ/DW-style communities, which people here now don't seem to want.

(Semi-aside, not to be a Fandom Old, but re: reblogging/reposting, I see how such a thing can be a boon for those who really don't want to participate even on the level of an occasional comment here and there, but fandom was doing fine without such a feature on email lists, forums, LiveJournal. People actually were pretty annoyed when LJ tried to introduce a reposting-style feature, which was pretty clunky. The site hadn't been conceived with that sort of ecosystem in mind and it was rather grafted on. Think how people keep rejecting Tumblr's attempts at a short-form video feature: "Stop trying to be X other site and just be what you are! We're here because we want what is unique about this place!")

....sorry, I think I went on a bit of a pointless ramble there 😅

imo a discord server should be like a breakout room for fandom. like the place to run your wips by your besties or discuss your otp in more detail with a few people who were insane about it on your post or organise events with a handful of trusted mutuals etc etc. if it’s where ALL the fandom activity is going to happen it will inevitably foster a cliquey environment where the fandom is divided into “those in the server” and “those who aren’t”, lurking is disincentivised if not made outright impossible, people who feel uncomfortable joining in conversations and would rather interact with fandom through reblogging etc are largely excluded because there’s no repost mechanism, and the fandom itself becomes an enclosed space so new fans are limited in how much content and meta they can access without having to make the plunge into Joining The In Group, there’s limited scope for interaction between different communities within the same fandom, god it’s just an altogether dogshit stupid idea. what if we moved all fandom activity to really massive private groupchats. STUPID

[yanadolls]

i can't help it, i want u!

18+, mdni ୨୧

dom nagi x fem reader, age gap (legal ofc), creampie, unprotected sex, risky sex, praising

you had been eyeing him for a while now, even though you felt guilty about it. after all, it was your best friend's brother, who was probably too old for you in the first place.

why did you even like him in the first place? you had no idea. he was lazy, unmotivated, and very unhelpful when it came to giving a hand to your bestie around the house and with errands. she always complaining about him to you, and you agreed with her! good on her for scolding him and forcing him to get out of his room.

but on the other hand..nagi was so fucking attractive to you. the way he was so effortlessly strong and so good at soccer had you blushing like crazy, and his muscles and abs? it had you soaked, thighs squeezing together whenever he walked out shirtless. his sleepy eyes, messy hair, and tall height was so hot, you couldn't help but fall for him- and hard. whenever your friend left the room temporarily, you were more touchy towards the white haired boy, scooting closer to 'watch him game', when in reality you were admiring him and taking in his soapy scent from his previous shower. you wanted nagi to look at you, so much so you would dress a bit different whenever he was around; short skirts, tank tops, low tight jeans.. you were frustrated because you thought that nagi never noticed, but he definitely did.

tonight, you were staying over at their house once again. your best friend was long passed out at this point, but you were anything but close to sleeping and it had been this way for the past hour. your mind was on nagi and how close he was today, still feeling giddy from when he complimented your makeup. it felt wrong to be crushing on him but you just couldn't help it- guys your age weren't satisfying you, and nagi was everything you ever wanted right now.

with a held breath, you carefully snuck out of your friend's room and shut the door, before heading to nagi's room. after a minute of hesitation, you knocked on his door and waiting a couple seconds. you could hear his mumbled approval of entrance, and when you walked in and saw him..it was like the wind was knocked out of you.

yet again, he was shirtless, abs fully on display for you as he leaned against his headboard, only the dim light of his lamp illuminating the room while his eyes were locked onto his phone. in the corner of his vision, he noticed that it was you that entered rather than his sister and that surprised him a bit.

"hm..? did my sister send you in here for something? i'm not going to the store this late."

why were you in here anyway? your cheeks were already heating up as you approached his bed, only in short shorts and a tank top.

"no, i just wanted to see you. can i hang out?"

"me? uh.. i mean i guess. you wanna watch me play or something?"

you never really hung out with him alone for longer than 10 minutes, so you were a bit more nervous this time than usual. with a silent nod, you crawled onto his bed and sat right beside him, thigh against his.

"she fell asleep really quick, and i wasn't able to. was thinking about you.."

you were more bold tonight, you wanted something to happen. you couldn't forget about how his fingers were brushing against your plushy thigh earlier- that must have been a sign, you thought. clearly, your words did affect him enough right now because he messed up his shot in his game and almost died. a scoff left his lips, pouting a bit as he quickly locked in and killed the enemy. he didn't look up at you, but nagi's attention was definitely on you now.

"think about you too. a lot actually, but don't tell my sister that or she might stop bringing you over."

you felt a flutter in your core. he had such an effect on you without even trying, it was almost angering. you carefully wrapped your arms around his muscular one, cheek pressing against his bicep.

"i won't. been wanting to be alone with you for a while, anyway."

"mh. mutual."

you paused for a moment as you watched him play, debating your next words. you felt the tension between the two of you, stronger than ever tonight, and nagi wasn't playing his best right now; he was distracted by your closeness. in a moment of confidence, you decided to just go for it.

"..been thinking about you fucking me, too."

the moment those words mumbled out of your mouth, nagi's finger slipped which resulted in an immediate game over. you thought he was about to get mad or even disgusted and kick you out.. but when he looked down at you, his eyes told you he had other plans.

"haah.. nagi, slow down..!"

you gasped out under him, eyes rolling back from how good nagi was pounding into you. his cock was so big it hurt, stretching you out and touching your cervix with each thrust. you made nagi's patience snap- all the nights he spent fucking his fist, wishing it was your sweet cunt instead, all lead up to this. the lazy genius adored how much smaller you were- how risky it was to be fucking his little sister's bff. he had wanted you the same way for so long, maybe even longer than you.

"such a good girl f'me.." he cooed softly beside your ear, soft droopy eyes looking at you from the side. he rolled his hips sensually into yours and you squealed, squirming on the mattress from how good the older man was fucking you. his hands gripped your waist, holding you down with only a tiny amount of his strength as he connected his mouth with yours for a heated kiss. your teeth and tongue clashed with his, and nagi was already obsessed with the feeling of your soft lips against his chapped ones.

"what would my sister think if she saw this, hm? p-probably think i'm a weirdo for fucking someone almost a decade younger, but you wanted this too didn't you? and you're taking me so well..knew you would be the best."

you whimpered at his words, walls clenching around him at the mere thought of being caught like this. his praises were making you feel hotter, love bubbling up in your heart for him. in your eyes, the age wasn't wrong at all. you were both adults, so what if nagi was a tad bit older? you loved it.

"ah- n-nagiii.." you panted out, "p-please, wanna cum so bad..need more!"

"yeah?"

nagi huffed and moved down to your neck, sucking deep hickeys on your skin and littering them in so many noticeable places that would be hard to cover in the morning. he wanted evidence to be left of what happened between them tonight.

"fuck, y/n.. you have no idea what you do to me. pussy is incredible, can't believe i didn't hit on you sooner.."

nagi's pace quickened as he pressed more weight onto you, heavy cock abusing your tight hole. you weren't exactly having quiet sex- your best friend could very well wake up and walk in, but that wasn't even on your mind right now. you were drunk on nagi's dick, and he knew it. the man could tell you were getting close from how much you were moving and squeezing around him, and found you utterly adorable looking so vulnerable under his touch.

"you're so perfect, aren't you? gonna fill you up so nicely, stuff you full with my load over and over till the morning and my sister won't have a fucking clue."

you whined, totally in love with the amount of attention you were getting from him after longing for it for months. he made your tummy flutter and your heart race- whether he was talking so dirty to you or saying something sickly sweet.

"cumming, ah- i-i'm cumming! oh nagi, l-love you so much!"

you shrieked out as your back arched off the bed, gushing all over his cock. he groaned out, sloppily thrusting a couple more times into your cunt before pressing deep inside you, finishing in your womb.

you were a panting mess underneath him, but he wasn't done. that little 'love you' at the end of your orgasm struck him to his core. nagi was starting to really think that dating you wouldn't be so bad after all- even if you would both face severe backlash from his sister.

"you still with me, baby? we have a whole night ahead of us, it'd be a hassle to make me spend it alone. mh, i love you so much.."

AN; older nagi makes me combust all over the screen >.< this is lwk shit ugh WHATEVER

[joyswonderland1108]

Jikook went on a (contractually obligated) world tour and left the fandom in a meltdown.

Okay first of all… I already know this post is going to be a mess because I have too much to say, zero organization skills. I might forget things. I might not include pictures or links or videos, but buckle up anyway. Bear with me as I unleash this demon.

🔙 Let’s rewind to pre-military: Our contractual husbands Jikook decided to soft-launch their little pre-enlistment honeymoon—hitting up NYC, Tokyo, and Jeju. Cute, romantic, iconic. And the outcome? Oh nothing… just Are You Sure (™), aka Jikook’s intimate masterpiece, sealed with soul-touching glances and lingering camera pans. Then they enlisted. TOGETHER. Are we surprised? No. Are we gagged? Always.

⌛ Fast forward to post-military: Now of course Jikook had a lil pre-discharge Tokyo getaway but ANYWAYS. Discharge time. Our boys come back looking like they drank from the fountain of youth. They do a little live, they breathe the same air again, and everything’s peaceful. Until.

✈️ Enter the chaos: Jungkook is spotted at Incheon airport. "Alone", allegedly going to the US. All good. Everyone’s like “Omg music project??” But then boom—plot twist. A Thai ARMY shares that her friend, fresh off Hobi’s concert, going back home, saw BOTH JK and Jimin at the airport. JK was walking ahead, Jimin behind. Translation? They left together. But guess what? The first airport report came from a JK solo, because OF COURSE she conveniently forgot to mention the part where Jimin was there too. Color me SHOCKED.

So yeah, now we know they both flew to NYC. Together. Again.

🕵🏻‍♀️ First sighting: A Jimin stan named Emily (who also saw them in 2023—God clearly has favorites) shares that she saw Jikook again in 2025, so now people are calling her a liar. Suddenly she’s under FBI interrogation for… not knowing every step of their enlistment timeline?? Because apparently you need to submit an entire academic paper and prove you’ve memorized BTS’ enlistment schedule before you’re allowed to tweet a damn celebrity sighting. Like girl she saw them, she shared it, she wasn’t in their faces. The TL: “Why is she pretending not to know them if she’s a Jimin stan???” Me: I don’t care if she pretends JK is a barista named Jeff. I don’t care if she called JK “some dude” and pretended not to know him. She wasn’t in their personal space. She didn’t call him names. It’s giving: solo behavior but harmless. Next.

🍜 Second sighting: Someone named “Emma” sees them in a restaurant and mentions they were wearing masks. Cue the stupidity: “Why would they wear masks while eating?” “How could she see Jimin smiling with a mask on?” Babe. People keep masks on until their food arrives. And smiles reach the eyes. Try covering your mouth and smiling. Go ahead Barbara, I’ll wait. The math is not mathing because y’all skipped common sense class.

🌪 Then silence. No news. Just heavy TL speculation: Are they filming “Are You Sure?” season 2? A GCF? An OST? A honeymoon vlog?

Suddenly someone drops the bomb

🦢They were seen in Zurich, Switzerland (or Zermatt?). Feeding ducks. Or swans. Or both. Maybe petting unicorns too who knows. Then the moral panic kicks in: “Take it with a grain of salt!!” NO. Enough with the salt. Girl, if y’all keep sprinkling salt on everything, don’t complain when the fandom ends up with high blood pressure. Too much sodium will kill you. You’re not chefs. Sit down.

👼🏻But the best part? The fandom saints returned from their caves:

“Don’t share this!”

“Respect their privacy!”

“Protect their privacy!” “In a public park?” YEAH!!

Respect their privacy from a 50-meter distance in a public European city? As if sightings don’t happen to celebrities all over the world? As if people don’t tweet “OMG I just saw Timothée Chalamet at Whole Foods” every two days on main? Apparently celebrities outside, walking on the same streets you walk on, breathing the same air, is now a privacy breach. Okay.

But also? God forbid someone posts a pic or video to confirm these sightings because y’all will be sprinting to your report pages like Olympic athletes. But if the video never comes, you’ll scream “they’re lying!” You can’t have it both ways.

📲 THEN. Jimin drops a video on Instagram dancing to Killin’ It Girl, filmed by none other than the contractually obligated cameraman Jungkook. It’s adorable. He’s giggling. Jimin’s serving. The internet breaks. We cry. We scream. We sob into our pillows. And THEN reposts it to his story with “This is what I mean by killin’ it boy…” I screamed. I ascended. I reincarnated.

Of course, the fandom Sherlock Holmes committee identifies the hotel they stayed at. AND AGAIN, the fake moralists started hyperventilating: “This is creepy!! How dare you post the hotel?? That’s their privacy!” Girl. Be serious. Jimin posted that after they had left. You think BTS debuted yesterday? You think Jimin doesn’t know how this works? They’ve been dealing with this for a decade. And riddle me this: Where was that energy when JK posted his birthday flirtation video and the hotel was ID’d in ten minutes while they were still actively staying there?? Y’all had the hotel, the floor plan, the room view, and the carpet texture identified within 20 minutes? Crickets. That’s what I thought.

🛬Hours later, Jikook are spotted in Da Nang airport, Vietnam. which confirmed they had already left Switzerland. And only THEN, pictures and videos from their time in Zurich started dropping.

Cue new moral panic:

“Wait until they leave before sharing.” …but also:

“Don’t share at all. Ever. Even when they’ve left.”

So what is it then? What are the rules? Because you sure weren’t this pressed in 2023 when they were spotted going to/leaving from Antoya and dancing on a boat with their souls intertwined and y’all were posting 4K footage? That wasn’t privacy? Suddenly “privacy” only matters when you decide it?

Also: no one was filming them inside their hotel room. (Well… JK was. But you get the point.)

Now let’s talk about the xenophobic meltdown. The moment those Da Nang airport pics dropped, the TL turned on Vietnamese fans like they were the villains in a dystopian novel. Some pictures and videos dropped while they were still there. Yes, taken from a respectful distance. No one up in their face. But ideally? Yes, wait until they’ve left.

But the TL’s reaction? UNHINGED.

People dragging Vietnamese ARMYs through the mud. Calling them “stalkers”? Excuse me??? Entire populations got slandered when the actual leaker turned out to be a cultist. But instead of correcting the misinformation and calling them out, people kept slandering Vietnamese fans. Instead of holding one individual accountable, y’all dragged an entire fandom base and disrespected a whole country. I saw Vietnamese ARMY hurt, insulted, and heartbroken over this, and rightfully so. Shame on everyone who joined that bandwagon.

🏠Now they’re back in South Korea, spotted again at Incheon. And let me tell you, they were looking fresh, healthy, adorable, sweet, couple-coded and annoyingly perfect. JK making sure Jimin got his shoes back?? I’m fine. I’m not crying. It’s allergies. . Speculations now say they’re back for Jin’s concert. Will they travel again soon? Maybe. Will I be ready with popcorn when they do? Yes.

🖼️ Oh and before I forget — Jimin posted a little drawing with “Jaykay” on the caption.

Now that’s just comedy gold.

Immediately the TL: “Is this their shared IG now?? Is this lovestagram??”

And now?

JJks are mad that JK is with Jimin.

PJMs are mad that Jimin is with JK.

Cultists are mad because JK dared to leave his “husband” behind and travel with the “homewrecker” Jimin (contractually 🤓☝️).

Like how dare he eat dinner with his contract husband? How dare he travel across the globe under a fanservice contract and film his boo dancing in a luxury hotel (contractually)?

Cultists: “JK is doing all this with Jimin contractually.”

Me: Sweetie, if this is a fanservice contract I want my money back. WHERE is the hand-holding? WHERE is the kissing? WHERE are the back hugs? WHERE are the late night cuddles? WHERE's the steamy drama? I am not being serviced properly! I want a better deal.

Also, sidenote: why is it always Jungkook’s fault when Tk falls apart in your minds? Not the fantasy relationship falling apart under the weight of reality, no. It’s always: “JK betrayed Taehyung!” Okay sure.

🌟 And finally, to the fandom saints clutching your pearls and whining about sightings being posted ”— First of all: A sighting is not outing. Second: If you think it’s private, then keep your speculation in your drafts. Don’t tweet “Jikook are together 😳” or “Are they filming a GCF?” if you’re gonna turn around and yell at people who are doing exactly what you’re doing—except with honesty and excitement. Because guess what? That’s also engaging with “private” info.

Jikook were seen. In public. And people got excited. That’s it. That’s the post. Stop making everything a moral panic. Stop treating fans like criminals for noticing things. And PLEASE, for the love of sanity, stop saying “don’t share” AFTER you’ve already read, liked, and bookmarked the damn post.

You can’t pretend to be holy after you already ate the forbidden fruit, baby.

You’re not fooling anyone.

Anygays, Jikook are married.

[4barbatos]

✦ toxic!scaramouche x fem!reader

i love you in the worst way

cw: dead dove: do not eat. abuse (emotional, verbal, physical, sexual), toxic relationship, manipulation, gaslighting, dubcon content, rough sex, self harm mentioned, power imbalance, unaddressed mental illness, severe codependency, trauma bonding, victim blaming & internalized guilt. modern au.

a/n: this one’s for anon that went absolutely feral in my inbox begging for more toxic scara 🙏 here u go babygirl. i hope ur okay. i think something is deeply wrong with u (said with love & concern)

you should’ve left when he first called you clingy.

but it was early then — early enough that it still felt like flirting. the kind of teasing that made your cheeks warm, made you nudge his shoulder and roll your eyes. he said it when you reached for his hand in public. when you kissed his cheek one too many times. when you sent him two texts in a row.

“you’re so clingy.”

he smirked. leaned in. kissed your jaw after.

and you smiled, because it was gentle.

he was sweet back then. or at least he could be. soft in ways that made you ache. he’d tuck your hair behind your ear, run his fingers along your thigh under the table, give you this small little look like he was seeing something no one else ever had. he’d let you trace the veins on his hands when you laid in bed together, and he never pulled away.

he was quiet, closed-off, like something wild trying to act tame. you thought it meant he had depth. that there were layers under his cold exterior. that his distance wasn’t cruelty — it was pain. you wanted to be the one he unraveled for. the one he let in.

and he did. slowly.

you started seeing him more. he didn’t text much — and when he did, it was short, half-thought replies. but he’d show up at your apartment with bruised knuckles and tired eyes, drop his keys on the counter, and fall into your bed like he belonged there. he never said thank you. never said i missed you. but he’d rest his head on your chest. kiss your wrist absentmindedly. wrap an arm around your waist while you slept.

and that was enough. back then, it was enough.

you let him pull you into his world.

you’d sit cross-legged on his unmade bed while he chain-smoked out the window, hoodie halfway off his shoulder, his jaw tense and eyes half-lidded. the room always smelled like smoke and sweat. his desk was a mess of ash and receipts and bent-up cigarette packs. vodka bottles lined his shelves like decoration. he never had food in his fridge. he lived like he didn’t plan on being around long.

but he let you in. that had to mean something.

he let you talk while he said nothing. let you trace the scars on his arms and didn’t flinch. let you cry after a bad day and only sometimes told you to stop. you’d pour your heart out in texts and he’d reply hours later with “that sucks” or “you’ll be fine.”

and you told yourself it was enough.

because he let you see him when no one else did.

because he didn’t push you away — not really.

he just didn’t pull you closer.

you laughed at his mean comments. thought they were cute. he’d say, “you talk too much,” or “why are you always so emotional?” and you’d laugh, nervously, and try to stop talking. try to shrink a little smaller. try to be easier to love.

he never said he loved you.

but he stayed. he kept coming back.

you mistook presence for affection.

it started slowly. so slow you didn’t realize you were drowning until your mouth was already full of water.

you missed his call once, and he didn’t text you for two days. you told him you were seeing an old friend, and he got cold. said, “funny how you always have time for everyone but me.”

you asked if he was okay and he said, “don’t start.”

you touched him wrong and he flinched away.

you said something he didn’t like and he left without a word.

he stopped calling you pretty. stopped answering when you said i miss you. stopped sleeping over unless he was drunk or high or angry at someone else.

and you apologized. for everything. for nothing. for things that weren’t your fault.

he’d ghost you for days, then show up at your door like nothing happened. collapse into your bed, kiss your neck, press his knee between your legs like he hadn’t left you crying four nights ago.

you let him. every time.

you said, “where were you?”

he said, “don’t start.”

you asked if he loved you, and he rolled his eyes.

said, “what does that even mean?”

you started keeping your feelings small, your voice softer, your words careful. you stopped crying in front of him. stopped asking him to stay. you’d beg silently, in the way you kissed him. the way you let him touch you even when it hurt. the way you said i love you like a prayer he never answered.

the shift was so slow you barely noticed it.

but then you did.

you noticed that you didn’t laugh around him anymore. that he never kissed you after sex. that he called you dramatic when you cried and said “you’re lucky i even deal with this.” that he didn’t ask about your day. didn’t say goodnight. didn’t care if you were okay.

you noticed how you flinched when he raised his voice.

how you waited for him to reply like your worth depended on it.

how his silence made you sick and his attention made you sicker.

you noticed you weren’t you anymore.

you were his. only his. always his.

you knew what kind of night it was going to be the second he walked in.

he didn’t say hi. didn’t ask how you were. didn’t even look at you at first — just dropped his bag by the door, ran a hand through his hair like he was already annoyed, and asked, “did you miss me?”

you nodded. said yeah. said a lot.

he didn’t answer. didn’t smile.

he just stared.

his eyes were sharp like he was waiting for you to say the wrong thing. his hands were cold when they touched your waist. his grip was tighter than it needed to be. he kissed you like he wanted to shut you up.

and you let him.

because this was the only time he touched you anymore. the only time he looked at you. the only time you felt like you existed to him. even if it hurt. especially when it hurt.

he spat cruel things against your skin. called you names you didn’t recognize yourself in. slapped you when you said i love you like it offended him. pressed his hand around your throat like he wanted to crush the part of you that still hoped.

you cried.

he didn’t care.

you touched him gently once — just once — and he pushed your hand away. told you to stop acting pathetic. to open your mouth and make yourself useful. said he didn’t want to hear a sound out of you unless it was you begging.

you begged.

you begged like you meant it.

not because you were desperate for him — but because if you didn’t give him everything, he might leave. and if he left, you didn’t know what you were without him.

you let him use you until your body ached. until you couldn’t tell the difference between pain and pleasure anymore. until you were sore and stretched and shaking and empty. until it was over.

and he just got up. didn’t speak. didn’t touch you again. didn’t even look at you as he pulled on his shirt and grabbed his phone. like you were nothing. like you were never anything.

the door slammed shut behind him.

you laid there on the sheets you’d just washed, legs sticky, throat bruised, stomach twisting. the room was quiet. you could still smell him on your skin. and it made you feel like you were rotting.

you didn’t cry. you just stared at the ceiling. blinking slowly. feeling like something had been carved out of you. like there was less of you now than there was before.

you touched your own wrist. lightly. the only tenderness you’d felt all night.

and you wondered if this is what love was supposed to feel like.

if maybe you’d just gotten it wrong.

if maybe this was the best you were ever going to get.

you didn’t text him the next morning.

you didn’t check if he got home. didn’t ask if he was okay. didn’t say i miss you, even though the words clawed at the back of your throat like they wanted to be let out.

you told yourself: if he wants me, he’ll reach out.

he didn’t.

you left him on read the next time he messaged you. just once. it was stupid. petty. small. but it felt like control. like a single breath of air after being underwater too long.

you started taking longer to respond. started saying i’m busy more. started turning your phone face-down on the table when you were out.

and it only took three days for him to notice.

you stared at the screen for a long time.

he was doing it again. twisting it. making it seem like it was your fault. like you were the inconsistent one. like he hadn’t been the one who disappeared for three days just last week.

and then:

and there it was. the push.

you felt your stomach drop. like you were the one who’d done something wrong. like you owed him more of yourself, even though he never gave you anything in return.

you didn’t respond.

that night, you turned your phone off. didn’t check. didn’t break.

and in the morning, he was at your door.

flowers in one hand.

coffee in the other.

that soft look on his face — the one he only wears when he knows you’re slipping.

he kissed your temple like he used to. held your face in his hands. said, “i’ve been thinking about you all week.” and “i miss how we used to be.”

you wanted to scream. wanted to slam the door in his face.

but instead, you let him in.

you cried reading it.

because he’d said the exact same thing two months ago. and again a month before that. and again last week.

he always says i’m trying like it’s supposed to fix the blood in your mouth. like the bruises on your hips are just growing pains. like the silence and the absence and the backhanded words were all part of the process.

and every time, you believed it a little less.

but not enough to leave.

because part of you still wanted to be the one he changed for. still believed in the boy who kissed your shoulder that first night and whispered that he didn’t know how to be good but wanted to learn. still held onto the way he looked at you like he needed you more than air.

you were addicted to the potential of him.

you were starving, and he kept feeding you crumbs.

and it was never enough.

but it was always just enough to keep you there.

you let him crawl back into your bed. you let him hold you again like he hadn’t made you feel disgusting the night before. you let him kiss your throat — right over the spot he pressed too hard — and you sighed like it was forgiveness.

you told yourself: this time will be different.

but it wasn’t.

he was sweet for three days. he bought you your favorite snacks. he played with your hair while you fell asleep. he sent you texts in the middle of the day that said “miss you” and “thinking about you.” and it was everything you’d ever wanted to hear.

you started to feel warm again. started to hope.

and then it cracked. just like it always did.

you told him you were going out with a friend — just dinner, nothing special — and he went cold instantly.

you stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. red lipstick. flushed cheeks. trembling hands.

you weren’t even sure who you were dressing up for anymore — yourself? your friend? the girl you used to be?

and suddenly, you didn’t want to go out at all.

you canceled.

he came over later that night like he hadn’t ruined it. curled up behind you in bed. whispered, “thank you for listening.”

and you hated that it made your chest feel warm.

you hated that you needed his approval like oxygen.

you hated him.

you hated yourself more.

you didn’t even recognize your own voice when you said, “do you even love me?”

he didn’t answer for a long time.

just ran his fingers down your back. slow. quiet.

then, finally:

“don’t ask me shit like that.”

you nodded.

of course.

you watched the ceiling while he fell asleep beside you. watched the shadows shift with the headlights outside. your phone lit up once — a message from the friend you never saw — and you didn’t open it.

you were tired.

not the kind that sleep fixed.

the kind that settled in your bones.

the kind that made you wonder if you were even real anymore.

or just something he built to need him.

you didn’t reply.

you just stared at the message until your eyes burned.

and wondered if maybe he was right.

maybe you were hard to love.

you wake up before him.

his arm’s draped over your waist, heavy like a shackle. your phone’s on the floor, your body aches, and your throat is raw — you don’t remember crying, but you must’ve. your cheeks are sticky. your eyes sting.

he’s still asleep.

and you just lie there.

it’s not peaceful. not gentle. you’re not watching him with love in your chest. you’re watching him like a stranger you’re too scared to run from. like you’re cataloging the details so you can remember how you got here.

his breath tickles your neck.

he shifts and murmurs your name like he means it.

and still — you feel nothing.

nothing except that gnawing pull in your chest that says i should go.

but you won’t.

you think about leaving a lot lately.

not in the dramatic way. not with a suitcase or slammed doors.

more like: what if i just didn’t text him back one day?

what if i just… stopped answering?

but you know better.

he’d show up.

he always does.

when he thinks he’s losing you, he becomes everything you ever wanted.

just long enough for you to forget what he is the rest of the time.

you used to fall for it.

you still do.

but now it feels different.

you’re not hoping he’ll change anymore.

you’re just too tired to try again.

you finally get up.

your body’s stiff. sore. you wince when you walk to the bathroom. there’s a bruise blooming on your hip — from his grip or the wall or maybe both. you don’t look at your face in the mirror. you don’t want to see it.

you brush your teeth in silence.

rinse your mouth out twice.

it still tastes like him.

and there it is again.

the subtle coldness. the way he makes you feel like the problem for anticipating the pain.

you put your phone down.

you stare out the window for a long time, until the light gets too sharp and your head starts to hurt. you sit back on the edge of the bed and he’s still asleep, like none of this matters.

you think, he’s never going to love me right.

and then, i’m never going to leave.

not because you don’t want to.

but because some part of you — the part that’s still cracked open and bleeding — needs him to stay.

even if he’s killing you.

maybe it’s not about love anymore.

maybe it’s just about surviving each other.

you don’t pack a bag.

you don’t write a note.

you crawl back into bed, curl against him, and let yourself disappear.

just a little more.

just enough to make it through the day.

a/n: if u think ur messed up for liking this, dont worry — im probably worse 🧐

[saltnsugarbear]

I'm gonna stay faithful (to the devil I know) (18+)

summary: After you don't respond how Carmy wants to a compliment, he gets a bit,,,, authoritative

title from: "The Devil I Know" by Suki Waterhouse

word count: 3.9k

content warnings: smut MDNI!!! Carmy's mean (like,,,, like mean), use of derogatory words during sex (bitch, brat,), Claire again :/, what i suppose could classify as subspace, brat tamer Carm :), reader wears a skirt (important for plot), afab reader genitalia, unprotected sex, i lean so heavily into being horny and pathetic, ✨️pull out method✨️, I cant think of anything else?

side note: hey hi everyone say thanks Olive again for helping with dialogue and just,,,,, everything ever. everyone say thank you olive because I should be paying her

series masterlist!

You've been bugging Carmy all day since his morning text. The sunrise from the L tracks.

Carmy had started sending them early in the month, sometimes just the sunrise, sometimes with an added message. This morning, the photo is tagged with a short, "Looks like you."

The text made you scoff, rolling your eyes while you tap out a short, "You're annoying"

For an hour, Carmy leaves you on read. At first, you think he's tied up with the kitchen until Sugar sends you a brief, "Carmen's being annoying again."

Her complaint garners your sympathy and a brief, "Isn't he always annoying?" which gets a heart reaction from her. You switch chats between the Berzattos, going back to Carmy where he's still left you on read.

You: Carmen...

You: I'm messing with you, Carmy.

Carmy reads your messages but doesn't respond. You let him keep you on read for another twenty minutes before you message him again.

You: are you pouting rn? really?

Bubbles appear a couple of times before he responds.

C: No.

You: Nat says you're being particularly annoying today

C: She's being annoying today..

You can hear the grumble of his voice, an attempt to redirect your attention.

You: Carmy...

You can practically hear the sigh fall from his lips as you watch the bubbles go. And they stop again. You've seen this pattern with Carmy enough times to cut it short.

You: Need me to make it up to you later?

You: Maybe during lunch?

You: ;)

The last message is a tease, enough to clarify what you could mean. And enough that he stops typing for a minute. Then he starts up again.

C: Can't get away for that long.

You huff, knowing there's an obvious option here.

You: Or....

You: I could come there..

The response is instant.

C: No.

Then.

C: Can you wait til after?

You groan, burying your head in your arms on top of the counter. You're hiding long enough that he messages two more times.

C: You can, can't you?

C: Then I can come take care of you.

The words on the screen make your face flush and it's embarrassing because he's not even there. You keep your face hidden like there's some way he can see you from the restaurant.

You: You're evil, btw

You: I guess I can wait... But I'm not happy about it.

C: Yeah, yeah..

Unfortunately for Carmen, when you want something, you're persistent.

Which, for him, translates into his phone pinging in his pocket. You send him a few things each time he's away, just to tease him and to gift him with a surprise when he comes back to his phone.

It starts as idle chatter, comments as you go about your day. Telling him about the errand you have to go run, mentioning the woman with her cat in a stroller when you get there, telling him about the lingerie set you saw at the store and how you think he'd like the color.

After noon is when he starts getting frustrated. Not at your messages, but rather that he can't just leave.

The tipping point is the picture you sent him. Nothing graphic or noteworthy would make him squirm until he could get his hands on you. Instead, you've attached a selfie, taken at an angle, so it's like he's towering over you. In the photo, you're wearing a sweater over a collared shirt and a plaid-patterned skirt that pools onto the bench you're sitting on.

The picture is bumped up when you send another text.

You: Company lunch :P

You: You know how I feel about free food

Something inside Carmy twinges. His gaze flicks back up to your skirt before he types a response.

C: I thought you had the day off?

You: Apparently they couldn't schedule the lunch for another day

You: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

You: They're arriving! See you later ;)

"It's open!" You call over your shoulder and then turn back to your phone. Carmy enters your apartment easily, and you can already hear him grumbling about leaving the door unlocked while he toes off his shoes.

"I don't know why I knock anymore." He tells you, and you brush him off.

"No one is going to come into my apartment, Carmy." You sigh, turning onto your back. "Other than you."

Your reason makes Carmy shake his head as he walks over. You tuck your legs in to make room for him on the couch, sitting up straight.

"How was your lunch?" Carmy lets his head fall back against the couch when he looks at you. You give him a short shrug, laying your head against the cushion as well.

"Lame, but they paid for me, so that's a win." You give him a bright grin. He nods, bringing a hand to fidget with the edge of your skirt. "Just like.. Getting everyone out of the office, talk about something other than emails and deadlines. How's the restaurant?"

Carmy lets out a ragged sigh, turning to face the ceiling. You listen as intently as you can, course correcting when you find yourself getting distracted. At some point, you forget and start tracing his features with your eyes. Then it's easy to remember why you invited him over.

As he continues to tell you about how Richie thinks they should decorate for Halloween, you silently sling one of your legs over his thighs. Carmen pauses briefly, watching while you push yourself onto his lap.

"Are y'serious right now.?" Carmy grumbles, hands raised as you get settled. You give him an exasperated huff, adjusting how you're sat.

"I was being serious all day.." You complain, rocking your hips into his for affect.

"Can't go five fuckin' minutes without it, can ya?" He scoffs, resting his hands on your thighs when you stop moving. He's smirking up at you, blue eyes bright while he teases.

"You said you'd take care of me, Carm.." You whine, rolling your hips again.

"And y'can't wait a little longer?" He taunts, squeezing your thighs.

"I've been waiting all day," You emphasize this by shifting your hips. You try and make it look like you're adjusting how you're sat, like you can't get comfortable. Carmy shakes his head with a huff, watching as you squirm.

"Thought I was annoying.." He says, holding you in place, and you let out a frustrated whine. As if you can't believe he's bringing it up now of all times.

"Told you, I was messing with you," you tell him, hands resting on top of his. He hums at that, tilting his head to one side as he studies you.

"I want an apology," He says, and it catches you off guard.

"What?" Your brow furrows in confusion. Is he serious right now? You're sitting on his lap, and he's thinking about an apology?

"I want an apology." Carmy reiterates, a sternness finding its way into his voice. It makes something in you seize for a moment, and then you can breathe again.

"What are you, twelve?" You scoff, rolling your eyes. He stays quiet, content to squeeze at your thighs while he waits.

"No. I told you I was joking." You sit up straighter, chest puffed with some sort of defiance. Carmy raises an eyebrow at your antics, clearly unamused. When you don't say anything else, a small sigh escapes him.

"Apologize," He lets it sit in the air for a moment. "Or I won't fuck you."

Your stomach twists. There's something in his eyes that almost makes you believe him. But you're not going to give him the satisfaction of folding first.

"Who said I invited you over to fuck?" You're bluffing. He can tell even without the tone in your voice but he thinks it's cute how you're trying to play it off.

"You're kidding me.." Carmy scoffs, hands sliding further up your thighs.

"You lounge around dressed like this? Huh? Even the lace?" He brushes over your clothed clit, making you inhale sharply.

"You're bein' mean," You whine, lifting your hips slightly. You watch as Carmy rolls his eyes, pouting when he pushes you back down onto his lap.

"Oh, don't pout, you started it. Being a brat while I was being nice."

You huff pathetically on top of him. You look down at where your hands rest on his stomach, pinching at his shirt fabric quietly.

"No, stop, look at me-" Carmy grabs your face with both hands, making you look at him. "- Quit it. You did this."

You whine from low in your throat, the sound muddled by the way he's holding your face. You blink at him a few times, trying to ignore the pressure behind your eyes. He sighs heavily, hands leaving your face to find your hips. Carmy moves you easily, pushing you off his lap and back onto the couch.

"Hey!" You squeak, watching wide-eyed as he stands up. You watch him adjust his jeans silently before he starts to head to the door. Your stomach dips watching helplessly as he starts to slip on his boots.

"Wait, wait, wait.." You stumble off the couch quickly. Carmy doesn't get very far before you're standing in front of him, a poor attempt in stopping him from leaving. He stops as you press yourself against him, clinging onto his t-shirt.

"I told you I was joking." You whine, blinking away the pressure of tears.

"I didn't laugh. An apology. Or I leave." He says it firmly, and you know he means it. The huff you let out is pathetic and it makes him raise a brow. He forces you back two steps, bullying his way to the door. It's embarrassing how quickly you're falling to your knees to keep him in place.

You're slightly frantic in your movements, hands flying to his belt. Carmy watches you as you struggle with the buckle, tugging at it impatiently. You have to keep him from leaving.

"No. Hey-" Carmy grabs your chin again, making you look up at him. You sigh miserably, blinking up at him as you feel tears starting to well up.

"I said an apology. You can hear me, can't you?" His tone is condescending as he looks down at you. You whine softly, looking anywhere but him. Carmy lets go of your chin, letting you pout in front of him.

"You really want me to leave, hm?" He hums, shifting just slightly. You're quick to shake your head, moving your hips a little. "Doesn't seem that way. That's too bad. Think I'll go-"

"'M sorry!!" You cry out, shifting on your knees, resting some of your weight on his foot. Your hands clutch at his thigh as you rock softly against his boot.

"Yeah?" He asks you, pressing harder against your core. You whine miserably, grinding against the toe of his boot. "Repeat it for me, baby.."

"Carmyy-" You whine. He hums, taking a step back and watching you scramble at his leg to keep him from leaving. Something about it makes his stomach dip, and makes his head hazy.

"I'm sorry," you get out. "Please, Carm, please-"

"Finally..." He grumbles, taking a step back from you. You're able to glance the tent in his pants before his movements block your view.

You squeal softly as Carmy grabs you under your arms, moving you to the couch. He drapes you over the armrest, a throw pillow nestled against your stomach.

Carmy 'tsks' softly behind you, lifting your skirt and exposing the backs of your thighs to him and the air. He watches as you squeeze your legs together, squirming under his gaze.

"All that beggin' and whinin' got you this worked up?" He asks, pressing his thumb against your underwear, dragging it down to where he knows your clit is. His hands gone as quick as it came before they're gripping the sides of your underwear.

You gasp when you hear the tearing of seams, Carmy moving to the other side and ripping it too. The air's cold on the skin of your ass and cunt, pressing your thighs against the side of the couch like it'll do anything.

"Look at that mess," Carmy grunts before the remnants of your underwear land on the center cushion. "All that cryin' and you still ruined 'em."

The center of your underwear is darker than the rest. It's embarrassing, and it makes your face flush. You tuck your face against the cushion, as if you can hide from the blood rushing to your face.

"No," Carmy says from behind you, a hand coming under your face, lifting you away from the cushion. "Look at it."

He grips your jaw and turns you back to the direction of your ruined underwear, making sure you look at it.

"See the mess you were makin', humping my leg?" You whine at his words, clenching around nothing. You inhale sharply as he presses his erection against your ass, rocking his hips slowly.

The feeling of denim against your core makes you moan softly, pressing your hips back into him. He brings a hand to your waist and gives you a firm squeeze.

"Quit that," Carmy shoves his hips against you, pressing you back up against the couch. Once you stop squirming, Carmy lets go of your face and shifts behind you. The sound of him undoing his belt makes your thighs clench. It clinks as he shoves his jeans and boxers off, letting his cock rest against your ass.

You inhale softly as he pulls his hips back, brushing the head over your entrance. You're glad you took in a breath because when he pushes in it feels like the winds been knocked out of you.

"Fuck- Carm-" You groan, clawing at the armrest under you. The stretch still feels like you're being split open even after a few days without him.

He doesn't give you long to adapt before he's starting a steady rhythm. You lose any train of thought you could have had, effectively lost as Carmy picks up the pace. Moans tumble out of your mouth, rocking your hips back to meet Carmy's movements.

Your head is hazy, reeling from the way Carmy's fucking you. In the past, Carmy's been firm and attentive. Nothing like how he is today. Today, Carmy is like you've never seen him, rough thrusts and rougher hands. He presses your hips down against the armrest, you already know there's going to be finger-shaped bruises there.

"So good, Carm-" You groan, panting against the couch cushion. He scoffs behind you, rolling his hips into you.

"Such a fuckin'-" Carmy starts, but cuts himself short. His breathing is ragged behind you and you can't help the whine that escapes you when he gives you a particularly sharp thrust.

"Such a fuckin' bitch.." He grunts out, hand sliding up to hold the back of your neck. "Cryin' t'get fucked."

"Carm-" You choke out, reaching back for him. "Carmen-"

You squeal softly as Carmy grinds his hips against your ass, fingers brushing the side of his thigh. He takes your wrist in a firm grip and presses it against your back. You press your calf against his, rolling your hips back into his. You breathe out heavily against the cushion, an awful attempt to fill your lungs.

"Please-" You choke out, feeling how he twitches inside of you. "Carm- please- give-"

You sob into the cushion as he slams his hips into you again, effectively cutting off your pleading. You don't have time to think before Carmy pulls all the way out, making you sob again.

His hands are heavy on your hips, pulling you back and off the couch. You're panting as he turns you over, picking you up easily. Your mind is foggy as he carries you before setting you down on a mattress. His hands feel like they're everywhere, as he tugs off your skirt and you try to take off your shirt. Carmy tsks softly and lifts the shirt over your head before laying you back down. You watch quietly as he tugs off his own shirt.

"Carm, please," You whine, grabbing for any part you can reach. Your chest heaves as he lines back up against your entrance. The slow stretch of him makes your jaw drop, eyes fluttering shut as you grab at Carmy's shoulders.

Carmy places a hand above you on the bed as he pushes his hips flush against you, making sure you feel everything. Having him over you makes it easier for you to grab at him, digging your fingers into his back as he grinds into you.

"Look at you.." He breathes softly, giving you a shallow thrust. "Just needed my cock and you start behavin', huh?"

Your words are slurred when you whine out and the look on Carmy's face makes you flush. His eyes are dark as they meet yours and you watch as his jaw tightens, breathing out heavily.

"Didn't come over here to hear y'whining.." Carmy grumbles, grabbing at your chin and shutting your mouth. That doesn't stop a noise from escaping your lips, stifled as he tries to keep you quiet.

It's almost natural.

The way his hand slides down to your neck.

The feeling of Carmy's hand around your throat makes your eyes roll back, jaw dropping as he grinds his hips into you. A groan tears from your throat as your back arches off the bed, hands grabbing for Carmy's arm to ground yourself.

You watch as he lowers himself to rest with his forearm against the bed, punctuating the movement with another shallow thrust. Carmy starts a steady rhythm, looking down at where he fucks into you. It's not long before the tensions building low in your stomach again, squeezing your thighs against his hips.

"C- Carmy- gonna- please let me-" You struggle to finish a sentence, fight to find the words past the feeling of Carmy fucking you the way he is. You don't get a response from him, just a few more rough thrusts. That's enough to send you over the edge, back arching off the mattress as your orgasm washes over you.

"Shit," Carmy grunts, pressing his forehead to yours as he feels your walls clamp around him. "Let go, sweetheart. Let me feel ya.."

He sighs against your lips, closing the small distance as he grinds into you. Your hips rut against him without rhythm, making Carmy groan into your mouth. It's a mess of tongue and spit as he moves his kisses to your jaw, nipping at the juncture under your ear.

The sound as Carmy continues to fuck into you is sinful, filling the room along with your heavy breathing.

"Carm- Carmen, need to feel-" You choke on a sigh, being shut up by a soft nip against your collarbone. Carmy picks up his pace, the sound of skin against skin being chased by his heavy breathing. He trails kisses and bites back up your neck, timing his bites with each thrust.

It makes you whimper into Carmy's hair, grabbing at his back and shoulders as you teeter along overstimulation. He makes it to your mouth, tugging on your lower lip gently with his teeth. You whine quietly, "Bear..."

"Fuck-" Is all you get from him before he's smothering the words against your lips. His pace gets sloppy and frantic as he kisses you. You think you might be able to live like this the rest of your life.

Carmy groans into your mouth, hips rutting into you erratically. He's swears quickly before he pulls out, making you whine before you feel his release on your stomach. You sigh when he pushes his hips into the back of your thighs, feeling his cock twitch against your skin.

You wait as he reaches for a kleenex from your nightstand, wiping off your stomach and stepping it on the surface. With your skin mostly clean, Carmy slips an arm around your middle and presses himself against your side. You hum as he presses soft kisses to the side of your face, whispering sweet things against your cheek and hair.

Once he's done holding you, Carmy falls into his aftercare routine. Pressing kisses to your skin while he cleans you up, helps you dress, and tucks you back into bed.

You grumble at him softly when he gives you a parting kiss, leaving the room for longer than you'd like. You can hear him shuffling around the apartment, the sound of cabinets opening and closing and water occasionally running.

Soon, Carmy is back with water and something else in hand. You lift your head to catch a glimpse of whatever he's got and blink slowly.

"Y'didn't have to.." You mumble, eyeing the plate he sets on your nightstand. Carmy makes a noise before he leans over you, grabbing an extra pillow for support.

He waits silently as you sit up, eyes catching how your nose scrunches in discomfort. Carmy quiets you with a quick kiss before you can make a comment at him. Instead, you hum quietly and take the plate when he sets it in your lap, making a noise of complaint when he parts.

Once you're settled, Carmen crawls over your legs before he lays next to you on top of the comforter. He grabs the extra fork from the plate as you collect a bite, eyeing him while he pokes the food.

"That was hot," You say through a mouthful of food. "By the way.."

Your words surprise a laugh from Carmy and make his face flush while he continues to pick over the plate.

"You'd say that about whatever I did.." He mutters, collecting a bite while he avoids looking at you. His words make you huff, nudging him softly.

"Shut up..." You tell him, letting Carmy steal from your plate quietly.

You eat in silence, taking in Carmy's sex-mused appearance. There's angry red lines slopping along his shoulders and the curls around his neck are messy. You quietly admire the fading hickeys along his chest, left by you a few nights ago. He taps your thigh softly, motioning towards the plate when you've been staring for awhile.

"Eat." He tells you. Carmy watches as you take a few more bites before he starts to collect another.

When you're both done, Carmy collects the plate before taking it to the kitchen. He takes awhile to come back to the room but you wait for him contently. Carmy pauses when he sees you waiting for him and you can see the brief surprise in his eyes.

You wriggle deeper into the blankets while Carmy crosses to turn off the lamp before he joins you. He slips under the covers easily, resting to face you when he's settled.

"Look like I got mauled by an animal.." Carmy grumbles beside you. You make a noise of protest, hitting him softly as you gape at him. You know he's giving you shit, but it hits a nerve.

"Just you wait..." You warn him, knowing that tomorrow you'll look worse than he does. He shushes you softly, tugging your hips closer and tangling your legs together. He placates you with kisses when you start to argue, pressing you into the mattress. You make a noise of contentment, letting him smother you until he's pressing kisses to your jaw and your neck.

You're more than happy to let him kiss you to sleep.

Carmy's gone in the morning.

The bed is made on his side.

The only proof he was there at all is the text when you check your phone.

C: Claire came back while we were asleep. Snuck out.

Underneath is a message from Claire after she would have gotten off from work.

Claire: Did you move the couch?

Claire: Missed it putting my bag down, sorry if I woke you

[mona-risms]

Imaging that reader is babysitting their baby niece/ nephew for a week or two because their sibling is out of town for whatever reason, and Rumi gets the fattest case of cuteness aggression when seeing reader with their baby niece/nephew.

BABYBABYBABY in this case literally

She may as well be Zoey bc this woman would SQUEAL. Quietly. Bc she doesn't wanna scare the baby BUT OH MY GOD!!!!! And maybe start to cry a little bit bc you ☹️☹️☹️ look so so so adorable taking care of one ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ AND SHE GETS TO SEE THIS SIGHT FOR A WEEK OR SO???? Okay well barring the fact that she's most likely gonna be busy with idol work so she won't be seeing you taking care of the baby as much anyway this woman's gonna get a case of BABY FEVER. She'd ask you so many questions about them and honestly would Not get bored with just leaning on your side as she watches you play with and take care of the baby (and she might even join too!!!!)

I don't think she'd hold the baby though, not at first. Not bc she doesn't want to, she REALLY does, but she'd be scared of herself yk. She has to be careful with these things due to her half-demon traits, especially when it comes to kids, bc it gets triggered when she's overwhelmed—fans' children is one thing bc usually security would form a barrier and stuff, but this is someone related to you!!!!! She doesn't wanna mess up!!!!!!!!!!

But the moment she does hold the baby? Oh. Oh she's so precious. Everything else fades away and she's never been calmer or happier when she plays with the baby in her arms, and she giggles when they giggle, and and and she sings them a really soft lullaby that lulls the kid to sleep. And tears are going down her face, not just bc of how cute this all is, but bc you entrusted her with someone precious to you. And yk how some people say babies can spot intent and good vs evil or whatever? That baby's so happy with Rumi, so what does that say about her? :3c

And then while the baby's sleeping she's squeezing you and hugging you and everything bc you're just SO CUTE UGH she loves you to bits please

[pushinpieta]

“for you there’s only love” - na baekjin x f!reader smut

synopsis: angst to smut. baekjin cries during sex.

cw: aged up characters, p in v, dacryphilia, clit stim, pet names, swearing, mentions of violence and death

baekjin had a coolness around him that screamed unreachable. he was out of everyone’s touch, building a veil over himself that felt as if it would sting from the tiniest graze of your fingers. that’s what everyone thought of him— an untouchable guy that had the charisma of a cult leader. his sly eyes cutting through every gaze the same way he cut through everything and everyone.

he’s intimidating. he’s confident. most of all he’s evasive.

he’s methodical in every approach; starting from the way he fought to the way he spoke— in what tone and speed. everything he did was calculated and planned. that intensity in his eyes like shooting ice shards that could slice through the thickest of skins.

with everyone else, na baekjin had built a image for them, as if they were placed in a confessional booth where they’d share all their sins with a screen as a barrier, keeping him hidden, and far. but with you, baekjin was just baekjin. someone that nobody knew other than you.

with you, baekjin was gentle, his gaze soft and relaxed, shoulders not so taut but rather a little deflated from the exhaustion of carrying the world on his shoulders. his burdens washed away the second he breathed your air— he felt like thief, a greedy and undeserving one. he believed he didn’t deserve it; to be graced by you, someone kind and accepting. before kindness and sacrifices, the first thing you gave him was the gift of treating him like a human— fragile, volatile, yet, tender. you’d get mad at him, you cried for him and because of him, you laughed and smiled and celebrated his successes, and you stayed by his side. a human companion that offered him friendship and love. you were his warmth.

so when his eyes landed on you after a troublesome fight against some gang members across the town, he wanted to turn away because he didn’t want you to see him in this state. a total mess. bloodied and broken and angry. the nuisance of a fight had riled him more than he’d allow himself to ever be. with knuckles and knees in the air, he swung as harsh as he could at the opponents, completely losing self control.

when you walked closer to him, bending lower to observe the twitch in his eyes and the clenching of his jaw, he turned away, not wanting you to see him fuming and slightly trembling from the over exertion.

“hey, baekjin, are you on your male period or something? why’re you turning away and fuming like that? i can almost see smoke coming out both your ears, baby.” you nudged the towering man in front of you “don’t tell me…you lost…”

that caused him to look up at you, unimpressed and further irritated at how easily you spouted nonsense. but again, that was what he loved about you— for unapologetically being yourself, for saying what you wanted to say. you didn’t have a facade unlike he did and in a way he sought himself while being with you. he was only himself when he was with you.

his jaw clenched and unclenched, his fists were balled up, digging red half moons into his calloused palms. he had to control his temper— especially with you. he inhaled through his nose.

“have i ever lost?” he spoke low, grabbing your left arm gently to tug you into his office.

he didn’t want the prying eyes of the union members to linger too long on his girl.

“well…no.” you pondered for a moment, letting him guide you to the sofa while pushing the door shut in his office “but you’re bruised and you rarely get hurt in fights.”

“they had weapons.” he admitted, a crack of annoyance in his voice.

“what?” you asked, cupping his cheeks, the blood scrapes and scars had dried up and purple had bloomed on multiple areas of his sharp face. your brows furrowed in concern as you observed him everywhere. your soft hands traveling to all the places that hurt.

his bold features stuttered under your hold, he grunted before taking your hands into his to place it on his chest. his heartbeat was fast and rapid, hammering in his chest. it began to synchronize with yours and you felt your own heartbeat pick up its pace.

“i would’ve killed those bastards if i could with their own knives.” he seethed bitterly, his grip slightly tightening on your wrist that was held against his chest. your palms flat, still feeling his thundering heartbeat.

“but you handled it, didn’t you?” you said, shifting closer to him “you always figure it out. always.”

“i have to.” baekjin answered, letting go of your wrist, “you know the consequences.”

“of course i know, jin, but y’know what i also know?” you started “that you shouldn’t carry it all on your own. it’s killing you, i can see it.”

baekjin’s intense gaze softened upon seeing the worry in your eyes. your casual tone from a minute ago now somber and anxious. he could tell you were trying to gather yourself for the sake of him. to get your words out.

“y/n…” he started, only to get cut off by you.

“you’re smart, baekjin, and there’s so much more for you to do. i don’t want to see you die in front of my eyes. i know this was just another fight but what if…” your voice broke, “what if, something happened to you? what if you couldn’t handle it? do I have to watch you die?”

“that’s enough, y/n. no one’s dying. not right now at least.” he attempted to comfort you, to change the subject, he couldn’t stand that strain in your voice.

“not right now…” you sighed “how long do you have to live like this? walking on eggshells?”

he couldn’t respond to that. you were right but what could any of you do? run? there was no running in this line of work. you either faced it head on or you lost your head. baekjin knew that and accepted it. he lived by it. that was his principle. but there’s a waver, a slight slip in beliefs when he saw the tremor in your lips as you spoke, trying to stay strong and keep your composure but you were only so strong, the tears eventually brimmed your eyes.

stubborn you, swallowed the lump in your throat to speak once more “and— and you are still so young and—“ sniff, “you have so much you haven’t seen yet—“

another sniff, and baekjin couldn’t hold himself anymore and he pulled you into a tight embrace. knowing that tears spilled out of your eyes onto his chest without even looking. he pulled back, to wipe the tears from your cheeks, noticing your lips quivering— you were his baby. he wouldn’t say it out loud but he would cradle you in his arms forever and hide you from his world forever if he could. and seeing you so broken like this— forcing yourself to stay strong and unaffected, he couldn’t stand himself for worrying you like this.

“baby.” he breathed, his minty breath cold over your damp face “i’m not going anywhere, okay?”

“okay…” you bit your bottom lip to stop another sniffle from slipping out.

“i’ll stay here as long as you want me to for the rest of tonight. i promise.” he spoke softly, almost a whisper while brushing your hair out of your face, both his hands caressing your face with so much affection you wanted to run away.

you couldn’t take it; how warm he was and how uncharacteristic yet so baekjin of him to be so full of care. it wasn’t that he rarely showed affection, it was just the fact that you never got used to him being like this— especially with the facade he had. it made your stomach churn with the need to just become one being with him.

“then what about tomorrow, baekjin?” you asked stubbornly, not letting his touch melt you away completely.

“that’s for us to worry about…tomorrow.” he answered, kissing your temple, his soft lips sending jolts of warmth through your body.

“don’t change the subject. i’m worried about you—“you get cut off with a kiss to your lips. a gentle and quick one.

“gosh, baby, i know. but can we not think about it for now. can i just have you like this? please?” he kissed you again, but deeper this time, linger around your face a little longer. to breathe you in.

“y-yeah.” you nodded feverishly, feeling shy again like the first time you had kissed him.

baekjin leaned closer to you, looking into your eyes for a long moment, butterflies exploding in your stomach. yeah, you could never get used to this feeling. he kissed you against with a parted mouth, deeper and more passionate, like starting a fire with a flint and steel. you gasped, feeling his hands slither up under your tshirt to unclasp your bra. your breasts get freed from inside your shirt once baekjin throws it onto the floor by the couch. his hands are warm and everywhere as his tongue slipped through your teeth to swirl around with yours. you could taste the after taste of gum and blood in his mouth and it made you feel dizzy with need. instinctively, you hands wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you until he fell on top of you on the couch, with his legs between your slightly parted thighs.

baekjin pulled away, out of breath, his eyes still soft and not really full of the fiery desire he usually had when you both got intimate. tonight, he was different. he was fragile and soft but still needy.

within seconds, baekjin was kissing all over your face again, overwhelming you with affection. his kisses trailed down your neck, suckling into the flesh until dark red painted your skin, then, down to your collarbones until he pulled your shirt off of you to kiss down between your breasts. he was back up again to nibble on your earlobes while whispering sweet nothings and comforting words into your ears, causing you to let out a vulnerable whimper. you tugged at his white turtle neck that was tucked into his jeans, and he complied, taking it off to be bare with you. his broad shoulder were slump from exhaustion and his chest heaved from the breathless kisses.

baekjin lowered himself down to your lower belly, taking a deep breath as if to steady himself from straight up devouring you in one bite. he composed himself, inhaling through his nose to look up at you staring down at him with those needy eyes that drove him to the brink of dying from how deeply he felt for you. then, slowly, steadily he exhaled, not losing himself to the sensation yet. you laid, your hair spread out under you, and yes glassy from the tears, and your lips wet and parted with shallow breaths. baekjin would pray to you; that’s how gorgeous you looked in that moment, laying under him. in that moment he realized you were how he was living. it was just you. he lived you. only for you.

“baekjin, i need you.” whined, using your knees to nudge at his shoulders.

he was frozen and awestruck until you broke him out of his trance. he gave you a dimpled smile, the apples of his cheek forming as his smile widened. baekjin moved farther away until he was towering over you, coming down to kiss you on the lips.

“patience.” he said, rolling one of your nipples between his fingers earning soft moans from you.

you tried to swat him away, feeling embarrassed, but soon gave up knowing it was of no use. he took his time, feeling you up, worshipping your body. his hands rubbing circles, shooting goosebumps right don your spine like an electric shock. you gasped when he tugged your pants off of you. suddenly feeling overly sensitive, you turned away, blood rushing to your face.

“don’t look away from me.” he said, his tone upset, hands reaching up to your chin to turn your face to him “you’re the only one who sees me like this, baby, so don’t look away.”

your eyes fluttered from his baritone voice— so gentle and slow, “s-sorry, baekjin.”

you gasped sharply when his thumb found the bundle of nerves between your folds. thumbing your clothes clit, baekjin watched your every response— the way you gasped, twitched, and the way your face contorted in pleasure. impatient, he hurriedly slipped our damp panties off of you, observing your wet, twitching cunt. he swallowed.

“you’re so wet, y/n.” he murmured, bringing his thumb back to circle your clit faster, pushing down on it.

your back arched, feeling your orgasm cave in on you and you let out a silent cry. feeling your lips jolt and twitch to the rhythm of his thumb. wet sounds from your womanhood filling up the room. you shuddered, taking in your release. more tears slipped down your eyes, nose flaring from the sheer intensity. greed consumed you and the man with his hand between your thighs. you needed more.

“i-inside me. i need you inside me.” your words came out shaky and breathless, chest heaving up and down.

baekjin stayed silent, his cock straining in his boxers that were damp from practically getting off by just watching his girl cum. he moved away to undo his belt, anticipation and need turned in your stomach with every clink of his belt until the sound of the metal hitting the ground caused you to jolt up a little anxious. his boxer came down past his knees. drool pathetically formed in your mouth seeing how hard and big baekjin was. tip leaking with pre and veins protruding underneath his length. as if he could tell you were salivating he let out a quiet sound of approval to himself.

“you’re gonna kill me, aren’t you?” he muttered breathlessly, hoisting your thighs closer up around his hips, dragging your closer to him, “can i fuck you?”

“please, yes.” you pleaded.

he lined himself to your entrance, watching for any signs of discomfort while he slowly rubbed his tip up and down between your lips— lubricating his cock. when you whined, digging your nails into his forearm, he finally pushed the head of his cock into your hole. it was agonizingly slow, the way he put it in, inch by inch, earning a pained cry each time, your toes curling from the stretch and length. when he finally reached the hilt, he let out a guttural groan, feeling your tender walks squeeze him in. coaxing him in like a siren.

“fuck. you’re so tight, baby, you okay?” he groaned, stilling himself to let you adjust to his size.

“i’m okay— baekjin, please just fuck me, gosh!” you begged, needing him to move. to break and ravage you.

the pace he started in was unexpected— it was fast and sharp. extremely precise and calculated just like he was. he usually started slow but when he heard you beg him, he couldn’t stop himself for relentlessly slapping into your gushing warmth. you cried, feeling his tip slap into your sweet spot that turned your vision black. your hips bucked up to him desperately. his grip on your hips firm, holding you under him.

you were losing yourself in the sensation of his cock moving in and out of your walls, slick trickling down and splattering all over. the sound; nasty. there was no way you could think straight, it was all too much and too good. you were so close, so close to another mind shattering orgasm until you felt baekjin’a hip slowing down, his thrusts languid and faltering. a sniffle, and a of something wet falling onto your cheek caused you to look up at baekjin who was crying.

shocked, your hands shot up to wipe away the stray tears from his face “b-baekjin, what’s wrong?”

he sniffled, nostrils flaring with shallow sobs, red eyes looking at you. more tears fell from his eyes, but his hips didn’t stop from rolling into yours in a slower more sloppy pace that had just as much of the same affect the faster pace had. you should’ve stopped him, but you couldn’t. silently, you let him cry— he wasn’t full on sobbing, but he was sniffling, lips trembling and chest aching. sadness and adoration filled his eyes as he fucked into your sweet spot.

“talk to me, baekjin.” you whimpered, feeling your orgasm creep up again, “what’s making you cry like this,”

“you are.” he answers shakily, sucking in a breath “i’m just— happy. that’s all.”

you didn’t question him, you just let him be, hands pulling him closer to you so that he could bury his face into the curve of your neck to grunt and groan his pains away. he picked up his pace again, slamming into your beat down pussy until you screamed.

“i’m gonna cum!” you wanted, locking your legs around his waist.

“then cum.” he hissed, shivering from the waves of pleasure coursing through his shaft. his eyes fell shut as he, too, felt his cock twitch inside of you, indicating his orgasm.

your orgasm shook up your entire body; your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your back practically off the couch as you came. baekjin pulled away from your neck to piston into you harder, chasing his release, still vulnerable and crying. he moaned lowly, squeezing your hips to ground himself. his head in the clouds and his heart beating rapidly from the pleasure and pain.

“i love you.” he had finally been able to build up the courage to say those words that had him choked up since the beginning. he said it while looking you into his eyes. so sincere.

“i love you too.” you were quick with your response, kissing his forehead, grazing your thumb up and down his cheek.

“iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou—“ he repeated frantically like a mantra until he came deep inside your womb, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity.

white, thick cum filled up your insides until it spilled out. baekjin slowly pulled out, cock stringy with yours and his cum. both your breathing slowed as you processed your climaxes. breathing in each other. he collapsed on top of you, resting his forehead atop of yours as he caught his breath. you were both shaking.

“you okay?” you asked, brushing your fingers into his gelled black hair.

he nuzzled himself into your neck, tender and clingy.

“yeah. got carried away there for a second.” he chuckled airly, hiding his face in embarrassment.

“that’s okay. i’m glad you trusted me.” you answered.

“thank you, baby.” he kissed your jaw “i mean it.”

“you’re very welcome, donald.” you teased, “my legs hurt, though. how am i supposed to get home?!”

“o-oh, shit, sorry.” he scratched his head, “i’ll carry you home, then.”

“your boys are gonna look at us weird.” you complained, imagining their curious eyes watching you get carried bridal style down the street by baekjin.

“like i care.” he smiled seeing you sneer at him, “what? should i rent a wheelchair for you?”

“you know, that might just be better.” you shrugged.

“what an idiot.” he said to himself.

“what was that?” you asked, scrunching your nose in annoyance.

“nothing.” he hid his grin.

“i’ll kill you.” you threatened

“i’d prefer that.”

[nausikaaa]

my dad once told me a story, when i was very young he entered a mechanic competition (he came second the first time and was privately told it was because he didn't look "respectable" enough, so the second time he covered his tattoos, took out his earrings, and came first) and one of the challenges was to simply follow a set of instructions to assemble a pretty basic engine. he thought it was odd because it wasn't the sort of task any competent mechanic would need instructions for, but he read them anyway.

and what do you know? right at the bottom, the final instruction was to disregard everything listed before and do absolutely nothing. so my dad sat there with his arms crossed while all the other competitors looked at him with confusion, or smugness, assuming he was thick, and built their engines, some reading the instructions as they went and some not even bothering. the ones who at least looked at the instructions got to the end and panicked, while the ones who didn't even check them had no clue they'd even messed up.

needless to say, my dad won that challenge, and i always read the instructions in their entirety before i start anything.

"autistic people need instructions for every simple task" okay how about we talk about the neurotypicals not following clear instructions. what do you mean it didn't work the way you wanted, i gave you the instructions. oh you didn't follow them? you didn't see where i clearly indicated the directions you were supposed to follow for this task? and you're shocked it didn't turn out right? you decided to pull a Jared I'm 19 and go rogue? you're surprised the road less travelled isn't fucking paved because no one travels it? do you get off on this

[fluffyfluffytime]

Look Up In The Sky! Is It A Bird? Is It A Plane? No It's... (Part 2) | Bob Reynolds x fem!Reader

Chapter summary: How Bob is handling the aftermath of the rejection.

Author's Note: I'm quite surprised how well-received part 1 was. I’m sorry part 2 took so long, I did a complete 180 with the draft. Anyways, if you would like to be in the taglist, let me know, I'll add you

Part 1

The team weren’t always the type of people who needed breakfast. However, given that they were gone for a month, where meals were sporadic, it was nice to a relatively normal eating schedule. Ava silently chewed on her cereal, with sleep in her eyes– enjoying sleeping in for once. Next to her sat John, who sat slouched while devouring his traditional American breakfast of eggs and bacon. Across from him, Bucky who sat upright while quietly flipping through today’s newspaper, his coffee half empty as an article caught his eye. Across the room, Alexei loomed over the pot on the stove, wearing an apron that said ‘kiss the chef’ and humming some russian song. A calm morning given the rambunctious group.

The quiet broke with the soft hiss of the door opening. Yelena strode on, her hair a mess– given she too had decided to sleep in, and made a beeline for the fridge 

“Bob’s not in the mood for breakfast”, she announced, grabbing the orange juice and letting the fridge door swing shut.

A chorus of groans followed

“He seriously needs to get over it,” John muttered, stabbing his eggs with unnecessary force. 

“He said he’ll go on walk, said it will help clear his head” Yelena replied, twisting off the cap and pouring it into a glass “But that’s probably bullcrap. He’s gone 20 walks this week”

Alexei let out a deep chuckle from the stove, “Don’t worry. When he comes back I give him cure for broken heart” he said, adding a pinch of salt into the stove.

Yelena leaned over, peering into the contents of the pot, face scrunched. “Is that suppose to be Ukha?”

“Yes”

“And exactly where is the fish?”

“Ehhh… had no time for market” He responded, “So I double everything else for replacement”

John raised a brow “How is a fishless fish stew supposed to help him?”

“Because I put extra of this,” Alexei lifted a bottle high, the overhead light causing it to shine like a gemstone

Ava squinted at it, her face morphed to an unimpressed expression at the realization of what it was “Vodka? Seriously?”

“What… it will make his heart burst,” Alexei declared, striking a fist across his chest. “With flame re-started, he will find passion with other woman”

Yelena, now settled at the table, next to Bucky, with her breakfast and a glass of orange juice, rolled her eyes. “With that soup, you’d probably give him actual heartburn”

“Actually,” Bucky muttered, not looking up from his newspaper, “with the serum, alcohol wouldn’t even affect him”

“At least I am trying to lift Moody Boy’s spirit,” Alexei huffed, giving the soup a stir “You people complain complain complain”

John waved his fork. “He got his heart broken by a crush, not his wife. He’ll live”

“Are you speaking from experience” Ava raised an eyebrow, with a little smug look on her face.

John paused mid chew. “What? No– shut up”

“I say we hunt down that waitress”, Yelena offered, only half-joking.

“With you on her trail”, Ava replied dryly, “she better start counting her day”

John dropped his fork, dragging a hand down his face. “Not this again,” he groaned, letting out an exasperated sigh. “She did nothing wrong”

“She did hurt Bob,” Ava said between chews of her cereal

“His feelings. It's not like she skinned him”

“She could’ve been nicer,” Yelena chimed in, arms crossed as she leaned back in her chair

John pointed a finger, jabbing it in their direction. “You two are both hypocrites”

“We are not”  “This is different”

“Yes.You.Are” John jabbed the table. “Apparently ‘no means no’ doesn’t apply to a nice, awkward guy”

Yelena rolled her eyes. “She gave him mixed signals. She was practically flirting with him”

“She’s a waitress, Lena! Of course, she’s gonna be nice. She works off tips,” John snapped, “Unbelievable. You two have never worked in the service industry, so you don’t get a say in this.”

“She could have been nicer”, Yelena muttered

“How much nicer do you want her to be?” John shot back. “She was honest. She told him why she said no– which by the way, she didn’t even have to do”

Yelena rolled her eyes. “Bucky, come on. Back us up”

Without looking up from the newspaper, Bucky grunted, “I’m too old for dating dilemmas”

John pushed his chair back and stood up. “You know what? I don’t think the problem is her– it’s you”

Yelena scoffed, clearly offended by the insinuation “Me?” 

“Yes, you” John pointed. “You treat Bob like he’s some helpless kid. Newsflash– he’s a grown man. He doesn’t need to be coddled”

“I do no such thing” Yelena fired back “Unlike you, I watch out for people I care about”

Bucky sighed, finally looking upfrom the paper “Okay, break it up, you two”

John ignored him “No. No, no, no, she needs to–”

He was cut of by a faint rumble, it hummed beneath the floor. Barely noticeable, just enough to make the surface of Bucky’s coffee ripple.

Everyone paused. Eyes darted. Not a single word uttered

Then came another wave– this one stronger. The floor gave a light shudder, and a few utensil clinked against their plates

Ava first to break the silence. “...You guys feel that too, right?”

Alexei, with the bottle of vodka gripped in his hands, tense. “Is it an earthquake?”

John braced himself against the table “Doesn’t feel like it”

Just then, everyone’s phone buzzed in unison. One by one, screens lit up with a red notification.

EMERGENCY ALERT 

An evacuation warning has been issued in your area. Remain vigilant of any threats and be ready to evacuate. Gather loved ones, pets and supplies. Continue to monitor local weather, news and the webpage

Yelena scoffed, “As if that answers our question ”

Bucky’s phone rang. Without a word, he stood, sauntered to the side and answered, his expression tense. “Mel?”

There was a long pause on the other end. Judging by the way Bucky furrowed his brows and tightened his jaw, whatever Mel was saying wasn’t good.

“Seriously?” He asked, his voice clipped and his shoulders square. “Put Valentina on the phone”

“You made us the new Avengers,” he said quietly, but clearly on edge, given how hard he gripped his phone. “So let us handle this”

He lets out a sigh when the call ends. Lowering his phone with deliberate slowness. His jaw was squared. He looked at the others “Everyone, suit up. Manhattan is under attack”

Yelena shot up, eyes wide “Bob! He went out for a walk”

The room froze.

—

 Bob wasn’t really sure where he was going. He’d been walking aimlessly for the past half hour, hands in his pockets, head down.

 The warmth of the morning sun did feel nice against his skin, but it did little to thaw the cold pit in his chest. He knew he shouldn’t be too bent over a rejection, you had every right to turn him down. But it wasn’t just the prospect of a romantic relationship that got him down. Outside of the tower, you were the closet thing he had to a friend.

The two of you would talk about the latest book, show or movie consumed. He was always interested hearing your opinion on it, even if they were horrible. 

You’d also gotten to the point where he told you more about his personal struggles, albeit he did leave some stuff out. Surprisingly, it felt good telling you, even though all you did was listen, like a weight had been lifted off his chest

 He loved hearing more about you. The shenanigans you got up to as a kid from the country side reminded him of the main character in a book her read as a child. The story that got him laughing the hardest was the one where you tried sneaking in Betsy, your favourite cow, into the house

In his world of tragic backstory, spies, missions and experimental procedure. You were the normalcy he didn’t know he craved. It was refreshing

 Stopping in his track he realized, maybe he should just head back. Instead of lifting his spirit, his mind kept wondering back to you. He couldn’t stand the ache echoing in his ribs.

Then–

He felt it. A faint rumble beneath his feet 

Bob paused. It was subtle. Barely noticeable. Looking around, people seemed unbothered. Was it just him who felt this

But then it came again– stronger this time. The vibration made the storefront window hum and loose pebbles skitter across the pavement. People stopped walking and looked around. Alright so it wasn’t just him.

A military trucked tore past the intersection ahead, followed by another. A helicopter roared overhead, the sounds of it’s blade chopping through the air. Sirens began to scream in the distance.

Bob turned, confused– just then his phone buzzed violently in his pocket. Pulling it out, he was met with a notification

EMERGENCY ALERT 

He stood there, blinking at the screen. Around him, the street had erupted into chaos—people running, yelling, trying to reach their cars or get underground. The world was spinning too fast. He didn’t register the police officer yelling at him until the man grabbed his arm.

“Sir, you need to evacuate—now!”

Bob nodded automatically.

He started running with the crowd, feet pounding the pavement. His phone buzzed again—this time a call. Probably one of the team.

He fumbled for it, but a sharp bump from someone behind him knocked it from his hand. It clattered to the ground.

“Shit–!”

He dove to grab it, but another person crashed into him, then another. Then he realized— the crowd was changing direction

That’s when he saw it,

In the distance, looming above the buildings, it’s armored legs crunching down onto the cars– piercing though it like tin can. It was a massive scorpion

The stinger looked modified, turned into a canon given that it glowed blue. With a shriek it fired a beam of raw energy down the street. Taking down the line of tanks and soldier that just arrived. 

It shrieked once more, it’s stinger arched and aimed. This time shooting at the rooftop of the building he was standing next to. Bob threw his arms up, expecting to be crushed by falling rubble–

But it never came.

No pain. No impact 

Just wind

He opened his eyes. 

For a split second, he thought he was dead. Instead of being buried beneath rubble, he was surrounded by clouds. Feeling the cool wind on his face, he felt weightless

Then, a flicker of dread crawled up is spine. Wait, he’s felt like this before, at the vault. 

No. No, no, no–

Had the Sentry taken over?

He squirmed, heart pounding fast.

That’s when the grip around him tightened, he realized that he was cradled securely in someone’s arm.

Then he looked up. 

His breath hitched at the very sight of her. Her (y/c/h) hair whipped wildly against the wind. Her (y/c/e) eye were mesmering but they were rimmed red.

A single tear rolled down her cheek.

“I didn’t know angels could cry,” Bob uttered, his voice hoarse.

The woman blinked, startled for a moment. Then broke out into a smile, like relief had washed over her. “Are you okay?”

Bob could only nod back, throat too tight to speak. Still, mostly confuse with the situation– not really sure if he was ascending to the afterlife or not. 

“Good” she sighed in relief, eyes scanning ahead. 

Moments later, she touched down on the roof of a building, far away from the chaos. There were already people gathered, most covered in dirt and dusk– likely other civilians she’d rescued.

“You should be safe here.” She said as she let him down gently.

Before Bob could thank her, she was gone– a streak of blue and red vanishing into the sky, heading back to the chaos.

Bob stood frozen, breath shallow, the imprint of her hand still lingering around him.

Who was that?

---

Taglist: @yagurlannastasia @yyiikes @one17 @abbyrxx @hiraethmae @msfirth @cherrypieyourface

[spookytragedyshark]

Part two of this one of my Ghoap x f!reader idea. Writers can take it and run; just remember to tell me where to find your work.

MDNI 18+ ONLY.

Also debating on a name so feel free to share some ideas

So, after the spectacular incident that had ghost drooling on himself, Soap is included in most everything you guys do. Problem Y/N is not as good at communicating as Ghost gives her credit for.

Soap firmly believes that he is around for fun. After all, he still sleeps in the guest bedroom some nights. You were just giving him space in case you and Ghost became too much at once. Sure his stuff is all over the apartment, mixing in just as well as Ghosts. Yes, he has been with you two every break except… he hasn't been asked for the holidays. You two spend holidays with your (family/friends). You never asked because you do not want to make him choose between his family and your relationship, and are not sure how his family would take a polycule.

So the boys go back to base. Soap fools himself into believing that was that, and he should be grateful for the few weeks he had in your home. Still, he can't help sleeping with the collar on every night, or that it brings him comfort. He only begins to question this when you text him two weeks in. It is a simple text, asking his preference on some random recipe you want to cook for him, but Soap honestly starts crying. After that, he gets texts from you every few days.

At the first news of a break, Ghost once again appears in his room, packing Soap a bag, "birdie said home." Within hours, Soap is sandwiched between you watching a movie in onesies. Soap is just eating up the attention. All too soon, they have to return.

Soap feels like he has no right to be upset that he and Ghost do not have moments on base. Ghost is just unsure how to approach the subject without his bird. But you are both so good to him on leave.

Then he gets injured, it's minor, but it could have been so much worse. Ghost drags him to his room. Soap is expecting a lecture instead he is thrown on the bed. The bounce of the mattress reboots his brain. Next thing he knows, he is blissed out, sweaty, collared, and covered in love bites with Ghost asleep on his chest. Ghost thought Soap was going to die and freaked out, needing to feel and hear Soap. Following that, after particularly rough missions, Ghosts visits him at night.

One break, you get some temporary tattoo pins and go nuts doodling on them. They are covered in colorful designs when they return to base. While they are home, you take an imprint of their mouths. Soap doesn't think anything of it, given that he once saw you wearing tooth earrings and knows you get creative.

At least he doesn't till the moment he realizes he might actually be married to you two in every way but on paper. He and Simon come home exhausted to find you in the kitchen with the counters covered in different desserts. Stress baking... the two of them are by your side, checking on you. "What has Birdie worked up?" You are evasive at first. Only Soap notices you flinch when he touches your back. The shirt is off in seconds, them checking for injury, only to find a fresh tattoo. Suddenly, you are a blushing mess. "Do you like it? It took some effort to design it right." It takes the boys a minute to catch on, to process what they are seeing. Spanning across your shoulder blade are their bite imprints simplified and shrunk down to create a wave pattern with little penguins in it.

This is the moment Soap decides to buy Y/N, and Simon rings because you two clearly are incapable of just saying what you want. You are also in for a wild night.

[tabaciberez]

LN guy here! You've got a lot of good points, but let me throw in some stuff to back you up.

First things first, Maomao provides a lot of services, direct to the emperor. She teaches the concubines, she takes care of his daughter, she saves his most successful concubine from poison, saves his second favorite from lead poisoning, gets him his porn for while the lead concubines are pregnant, saved a certain family member's life, gets his "little brother's" literacy program off the ground, and most importantly to the Big E, balances Ka Zuigetsu out when the shit hits the fan and Jinshi has to take on the role formally. Out of all the servants in the palace, she's probably the one he has the most direct contact with; and he likes that!

It's important to remember that Big E didn't want to become Emperor when he did. The guy took the throne young because Previous Emps was a mite bit shit and the Regent knew it was better to fade away here to protect her son, and he's resented the mess that landed in his lap because of it. Last Admin was maximizing court stability and profit to keep everything in the black; but now the bills are due on all that deferred work. He's not happy with his father's work, and the goal to build back right means demolishing the old wrongs thoroughly. It's why we see Jinshi with so many laws, the Clans with so much power, and the Bureaus and Offices able to affect such change: they're off the leash and just need to build up steam.

But why does this mean Emps likes Maomao? Because she's the one that gives everyone around her the push they need to go. Jinshi, Ka Zuigetsu, Lakan, the U clan, the Ma clan, the Shin... everyone is driven by Maomao as she deals with them. This results in-

-Minor LN spoilers start here-

- the decision to let court ladies be medical assistants to the medical offices. It's a blatant reward, it fixes old problems, and most importantly it keeps Maomao in position to do what she does best. Sometimes, that's medicine. Sometimes that's a lesbian secretary for Jinshi. Sometimes that's rolling hot with the Imperial B Team. It's a simple solution that solves many problems.

And hey, she's got a good sense of humor too. Perfect to help get Jinshi out of his shell, and everyone loves the joke about Admonisher of Thieves!

People love to joke about Maomao getting special treatment from the emperor (because as a woman she's not allowed to practice medicine) but I think that the truth is, he just doesn't care.

It's not that Maomao is special in his eyes and that's why he doesn't mind (although she is, he trusts her judgement and she saved members of his family many many times).

The emperor has been in love with the most independent "masculine" woman in the whole story his whole life, he dgaf if a woman practices medicine, dresses like a man, travels or does anything that's "unladylike". Changing the law is just probably a major pain in the ass.

We can see it in the light novels, with Jinshi. Passing the simplest laws requires so much bureaucracy and is almost impossible. Every decision is questioned every step of the way and he is working himself to exhaustion.

I think if the emperor could easily change the law, he'd do it long ago. He's not dumb, he knows it complicates his life. They stopped making eunichs, forbade non eunichs to enter the rear palace and women practicing medicine? Then who is gonna take care of the concubines?

Maomao is like a gift from god to him and I think any other woman who was good at practicing medicine and reliable would get the same treatment.

[obscuremantisman]

GREAT!! so I was wondering if you could do the John Doe Rochas313 skin x reader....heh. because there is no rochas313 x reader and i love my boy💔💔 take ur time!!

SKIN!Rochas313 x Reader

CW: This shit all ooc because i created a whole ass lore, bro 💔💔. I spent most of my time drawing him instead of writing this ngl, also i have him as 21+ years old. YES, THIS FOLLOWS THE SAME READER IN THE OTHER FORSAKEN POSTS.

update: uhhh, hello! (((・・;) i've been occupied... with being a lazy ass, that's all.

Rochas thought things couldn't get worse. His world was corrupted. He was alone in it with this... this thing.

It all happened so quickly... He didn't know how to react. His body felt... numb? Not really, but it was reaching that point. He was scared... or at least he used to be? Everything feels so fuzzy, so underwhelming. Rochas313 couldn't bring himself to care...

He remembered a few things, his friends, or where they? He didn't know. Their faces are all... blurry. All he knows is that they left him behind once things got riskier, once he was like this... or did they? Weird, he couldn't remember.

Hmm...? When did he reach this place? He doesn't remember leaving his map. There is so much yeast, so much space to grow.

Who are they?

These people... They stared at him with wide eyes. The fear, the disgust, and pity in their eyes. It all had him.. flustered.

Please don't look at him... He knows he doesn't look good, knows he's a danger, knows he's nothing more than a host to a disgusting parasite, so stop looking, stop looking, stop looking, stop it, stop it now!

After his very first round, things got messy. Missing walls, misplaced decorations, glitched items, and roots everywhere. Yeah, you can bet the Specter didn't like that. Where's Rochas313 now? In the void, a place he can't mess with nobody.

The void is a map specifically designed for Rochas313. It seemingly has nothing in it except for a powerful, frequently updated anti-virus and a giant screen showing all that happens around the forsaken realm to keep him distracted from his own thoughts. The rounds, killer's lobby, and survivor's lobby are constantly watched by him. His favorite? survivor's lobby. They always put up a little show every round break, and they.. they remind him of someone.

Rochas is a biological cage. He successfully keeps the virus under check once left calm, but once aggravated enough... The parasite takes full advantage of his instability, which is why he's given access to watching others in the first place, but it's not like it could get out for long enough to cause any real damage. The specter learned its lesson once Rochas313 almost got a bite out of one of the survivors...

The Specter isn't interested in getting rid of his existence because if he dies, the parasite will find a way to remain, and it's constantly hungry for obvious reasons. The forsaken realm is full of nutrients, and that little virus is very much interested and sneaky, so yeahhhhhhh Rochas313 has to stay.

You met him by pure coincidence.

He had been particularly bored that day and, by accident, saw a glimpse of one of the survivors getting brutally cut in half. Yeah that messed him up and fucked his day up, enough to give the virus control for a few seconds and teleport him inside said round.

He just popped up behind Taph, said guy too distracted with trying to take back an explosive you were holding far up in the air just for fun.

It was definitely a surprise to the botb of you when the whole map shook and started glitching. A few of the walls even fell, and you swear some trees disappeared.

But alas, you, a curious freak, threw the explosive in your hands right away to another direction and approached Rochas313 to have a better look while Taph didn't waste another second to run off desperately once he peeked behind himself.

You only ever saw a few pictures and videos of him back in the days when you were just a normal human having an average life, and the fact he was here while there was already another killer for the round? You were rightfully curious. You didn't even realize that he was able to see you until he attempted to slash your body, wood claws phasing through your body, earning a confused incoherent grumble.

That had you even more surprised. A killer that was able to see you? You had to torment this guy affectionately.

As if analyzing you, his soulless eye stared onto yours while you poked him around, his body growing bigger as the virus was actively consumed assets until the sky turned red and suddenly... the both of you disappeared. The specter had once again sent him back to his prison.

Rochas313 doesn't usually speak. There's roots growing in his throat.

After meeting you, though.. he put an effort in cutting off these little branches so he could communicate better. He doesn't know sign language, and making gurgling noises was very much embarrassing. It hurts, but the only way to cut the roots off is to reach them with his hands, so he always makes sure to do it properly so his voice can stay for a week. It rarely doesn't leaves him bleeding but you don't need to know that.

He loves your company! If it was up to him, he would've been following you around just to talk.

Being around someone that doesn't stare at him with fear and that is nice to him even with the way he looks has definitely skyrocketed his mood and overall mental health.

Unfortunately, he barely gets to meet with you , nor see you around. The giant screen in his void can't catch your form properly, like a ghost caught on camera. That is why you proposed a simple way to have contact... a hunt.

Every new round, you, along with a few useless objects in the round, build simple things around. A 'hello' made from rocks, a chair with the drawing of a cat made out of grass on top of it, some plates piled up with a plant on top. Simple things to keep him happy, to show you cared.

One time you sticked your hand inside his empty eye socket. If you weren't able to go through solid things, you're sure your hand would've been stuck and possibly eaten.

Surprisingly, but not so much, Rochas couldn't feel a thing! That's why you made it a little hobby to stick flowers in it when you had the chance, even if they all eventually disappeared. That dumbass virus eats it every damn time. No romantic action that involves such things as gifts is allowed in its sight or it'll fucking find a way of chugging it down.

But how do you guys even meet? And how do you even leave the void??

Rochas hasn't been completely honest about the ways he gets out of the void. Sure, the virus takes over if he's unstable, that you knew, but what if... what if he's been letting, more than once, the virus take control just to get the chance of meeting you, hmmmm? Would you be nad at him? Eh, definitely not, but he's quite embarrassed to tell you he does that. He doesn't want to seem clingy.

And as to how you get out of the void... You discovered how to do so by accident. You were just chatting with Rochas after what seemed like maybe a few days after you both got stuck together in his void, and while you were pacing around, you touched the screen which Rochas uses to watch things around and sluuuurrp. Guess who got sucked out of the void.

Overall, Rochas is just a chill, kindhearted guy who just happens to be the host of a highly powerful virus. He cherishes every moment together with you and appreciates your gifts and attention with all his heart, even if sometimes all the affection overwhelms him.

Give him a little kiss on the cheek and his flesh side with be as red as C00lk1d's skin, while the wooden side will be sprouting flowers. He melts faster than butter on the pan.

The virus actually feeds off a great chunk of his emotions, so it was a surprise when he was all timid and a stuttering mess. Apparently his little parasite preferred negative emotions, which is why Rochas appears numb and tired most of the time.

But with that aside.. now you know a way to get a big reaction out of him.

there it is, sorry i took so long,,,,

[4doras]

HIGHSCHOOL SWEETHEARTS ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

being highschool sweethearts with sakuya ⊹♡

sakuya x f.reader

genre. fluff, hc

wc. 0.4k

a/n. felt inspired to write this after the post on wishes instagram where saku is wearing a pink bag (link slide 6) hes so cutie

➛ saku is the type of guy who carries your bag for you. even if you’re not tired, he’ll take your bag off of your shoulders and sling it on his instead. i feel like he loves doing this because it shows that he’s taken without having to do much ˃̵ᴗ˂̵ 

➛ when you’re tired or sleeping in school, he gets you snacks/drinks from the cafeteria and quietly leaves it at your desk so you can wake up to it. 

➛ during lunch, he gives you all the sides that he knows you like and plays it off, saying how he doesn’t like that one, even though you know he does. 

more under the cut!

➛ he will allllllways share his notes and loves to study with you (even if you guys barely get anything done) and although he doesn’t like studying and taking notes, he takes them just in case you aren’t paying attention in class and gives them to you after. 

➛ after exams, he brings you out to the bakery near campus and treats the both of you to a billion pastries and breads. 

➛ he lowkey loves telling his friends he can’t hangout with them because he has a date with you but he’d never tell you that. 

➛ has a huge soft spot when it comes to you!!! you touch his cheeks? he doesn’t mind it, loves it in fact (🤓) but when it comes to anyone else? he’s dodging like his life depended on it. oh and you, without question, have gf privileges. 

➛ saku appreciates a good matching opportunity, and with you, he will take every. single. one. your bag is adorned with a bunch of keychains, all matching ones with sakuya. each and every ring on your fingers were ones that you bought with sakuya. the pens in your pencil case are the ones that came in a set with the ones sakuya has.

➛ he ends up decorating everything you own. your phone case? it has cute stickers that he stuck on it. your pencil case? it has little doodles that he drew while bored in class. your airpod case, powerbank, and calculator? drawings were scribbled all over them. but don't worry, they’re cute (duhhh he loves u, he’d never mess up your stuff) 

➛ every single class you have together, or free period you spend with one another, he cherishes. it doesn’t matter if you’re doing nothing or if you’re frantically writing down everything before your teacher wipes it off the board, he just enjoys your presence ♡(˃͈ ˂͈ )

[shosweet]

geto suguru prides himself in cutting his own hair.

… a little too much.

he has never let a single person come near him with a pair of scissors — not his best friend, gojo, and not even you. if he ever did, his body was just simply possessed (lol).

however, after losing a bet to his pretty girlfriend, you decided on something evil, something so sinister not even the devil would try it. 

“please just the bangs, baby,” he begged while holding your wrist and clinging onto your (his) shirt as if he were a toddler going on a rollercoaster against his will. 

“but i wanna cut all of your hair,” you pouted.

“i will smack you upside the head if you do that. just. the. bangs. take it or leave it,” he said with wide, terrified eyes. you roll your eyes at his dramatic display and agree to his little proposition. 

thus, here you are in the bathroom with the lights switched on and several flashlights pointed in sugurus direction — “please you need to see super duper well i’m not exaggerating” pleaded the poor boy — as he nervously bounced his knee on the closed toilet seat. 

“fix your face, sugu, i didn't even start yet,” you stated with frustration. his behavior is definitely something to laugh at, but you really were going to mess it up if he doesn’t just suck it up.

“okay okay fine, i’m gonna close my eyes,” he breathed out in defeat. at his submission, you pick up the little pair of scissors on the counter. using what he’s taught you, you start off by trimming to a working length.

“is this okay?” you ask as the hair falls onto the rugs, softly landing on suguru’s socks. he hesitantly opens his eyes and sighs in relief.

“good, really good. you remember how to frame my face right? use the thinning shears so it’s not blocky. you’re surprisingly doing great, just keep going,” he ranted out in attempts to calm his nervousness. you smile to yourself and pick up the shears, angling it so the result would be of his request. 

huh, this isn’t so bad, suguru thought to himself. maybe he should just start letting you cut his bangs from now on—

“shit.”

suguru perked his head up, eyes still closed because he wants you (and himself) to think that you have it all under control.

“babe..?” suguru asks, patience running thin as panic starts to set in. he keeps his eyes screwed and sealed shut as to not see whatever you just did to his precious hair — out of sight out of mind, right?

“y’know, chopped bangs are kinda in right now—”

“i know you did not just say chopped bangs are you serious— oh my fucking goodness.” he completely turns pale the moment he opens his eyes.

“it’s not that bad!!! trust the process!! maybe if we pin it to the side..”

“there’s a reason why i have bangs! oh my fuck i cannot be walking around with my large forehead.”

“humongous actually.”

“shut the hell up.”

now, you’re walking through a claire’s store for any hair accessories that would help suguru’s awful haircut. you beam as you glide through the store, overjoyed that suguru’s letting you do “girly” hairstyles on him. however, he’s looming behind you, covered in a hoodie and sunglasses, trudging behind your every step as if he’s about to kill someone. 

“you need any help, ma’am?” a kind store clerk asked. “i think those clips on the left would suit you perfectly!” she smiles, trying to ignore negative nancy next to you.

“aw thank you! but it’s not for me, it’s for my boyfriend,” you reply, placing your hand on his chest. after paying for everything and returning home, you have suguru sit on the floor as you sat behind him on the sofa, styling his hair in ways you think would flatter him. 

as he sits, closing his eyes as his scowl softens, he thinks to himself: this actually isn’t that bad… 

will he ever let you be his barber again? hell no, you were fired the moment you suggested it. but, he’d never turn down a free hairstylist. 

silly draft because why have i been writing sm angst lately

[hyunniesamericano]

Hearts Covered in Frosting

Pairing: Lee felix × fem! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings : none

Summary:A simple afternoon of baking turns into a flour-filled disaster...one that somehow leads to kisses, laughter, and the softest kind of love.

Felix had this separate baking area in his apartment...a cozy nook off to the side of the kitchen that looked like it belonged in a dream. Soft fairy lights dangled above the shelves, and his carefully labeled jars—cocoa powder, cinnamon, cardamom sat perfectly arranged on warm wooden racks. A tiny stand mixer lived beside a vase of dried flowers, and you’d always teased him that the space looked like a dessert fairy’s corner.

It was warm, inviting, and his. You knew how much it meant to him.

Which is why, when the flour exploded in a giant puff across the counter, across the air, and most importantly across you, your heart plummeted like an undercooked soufflé.

You stood there, frozen in the middle of the mess you’d made, holding the sifter like a crime weapon and blinking through floury lashes.

“I can explain,” you said, voice caught between panic and apology.

Felix turned around from where he was gently folding buttercream in a mixing bowl, his sleeves rolled up and a tiny smudge of chocolate on his cheek. He blinked once at the cloud of white floating around the baking area, then blinked again at you-your hoodie dusted in flour, your cheeks matching, eyes wide with guilt.

He stared.

Then, slowly, his lips twitched. “What did you do?”

You held up the sifter. “I was… trying to help?”

“With the lid off?”

“I didn’t know it had one!”

He set down the bowl, wiped his hands on a towel, and walked toward you. His steps were calm, measured, and almost too quiet. You could practically hear the suspenseful background music in your head.

Too calm.

You gulped.

He stopped in front of you and looked you up and down, eyes dragging over the flour in your hair and the streak of white on your cheek.

“Sweetheart…” he started, voice low and suspicious.

“…Yes?” you replied, trying to sound cute. (It did not work.)

“You’ve committed a baking felony.”

“I-what?! That’s not a real thing-”

“It is now. Sentencing: five years in flour jail.”

You gasped. “That’s unfair-”

But before you could finish, he reached down, dipped his finger into the open bag of flour and tapped your nose gently.

Boop.

You blinked.

“Felix.”

He smiled, completely unrepentant. “Oops.”

You squinted at him, then looked down at your hands.

“You wanna play that game?” you whispered, already reaching for the bag.

He backed up slowly, laughing. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“Oh, I won’t regret it at all.”

And then—war.

Flour flew in every direction. You lobbed a scoop of it at his shoulder while he ducked behind the fridge and retaliated with powdered sugar. You wiped buttercream on his cheek. He painted a stripe down your arm. The kitchen turned into a battleground of giggles and sugar until the air was thick with sweet chaos and breathless laughter.

Finally, breath ragged, limbs tired, and cheeks aching from smiling too hard...you both collapsed to the floor, utterly destroyed.

Flour everywhere. Butter on your sleeves. Sugar in your hair. Your stomach still flipping like a pancake.

Felix sat next to you, legs splayed out, hoodie streaked with white, and an absolutely ridiculous grin on his face.

He nudged your foot gently with his. “Hey.”

You looked up at him, cheeks still flushed. “Hmm?”

His voice softened, like the chaos had fallen away and only you remained.

“You look beautiful like this.”

You paused, blinking at him.

A little laugh escaped your lips. “I look like a floured donut.”

He smiled. Slow. Adoring.

“The prettiest one in the box.”

Your heart swelled so fast you thought it might burst. And maybe it did, a little because in that moment, everything felt so simple. So easy. So safe.

You leaned forward and kissed him.

It was slow. Sweet. Still tinged with the taste of vanilla and mischief. His hand came up to cradle your cheek, fingers brushing against the soft curve of your jaw like he was scared to press too hard and wake up from a dream.

When you pulled back, he pressed his forehead to yours and whispered,“No more flour fights.”

You smiled against his lips. “No promises.”

He chuckled. “But I’ll always clean up the mess with you.”

A/n : Wasn’t feeling my best lately, so I ended up writing this bit of fluff to feel a little lighter.