#I can’t handle a different fucking opinion

[sweetface-the-dollbaby]

I shouldn’t of cried over that but I fucking did

[letstrywritingmaybe]

Hi! I suddenly very invested in the shinsherry ship dynamic, of course I have my own ideas and hc. Do you fancy the dynamic? If it is a yes, do you have some sorts of hc for them?

Pd: I am still working on in this shinsherry fic so I need a bost of energy.

Oh my, idk if I’m the best person to ask tbh since I tend to write shinshi and CoAi exclusively compared to other dynamics. The closest I’ve come is probably Don’t Blame Me. I won’t be much help, but I do agree we need more of it in the fandom! It needs to be explored! I’m hopeful you’ll be able to share your fic with us!

Idk if it’s cause I’m a Gemini, but as much as I believe Sherry to be a part of her. It’s more of a persona to me, so underneath it all she’s still Shiho. Just forced to be this character that she never wanted to be out of survival. So when I do dabble with her being more of a bad girl, that’s the approach I go for.

Sherry is all snark, sass, confident, and cutthroat who takes no shit. She’s not allowed to be weak, she fights back and isn’t above playing dirty. At least on the outside this is how she appears to be, but at the end of the day she’s soft and does actually own a heart. Shinichi I think sees this side of her despite her best efforts to pretend she’s pure evil. Though at first he’s definitely tricked into thinking she’s just bad news, but him with his savior complex wants to rescue her. Thus begins their interesting relationship

The more he tries to get close to her, the harder she pushes him away. But in the grand scheme of things they’re both after the same goal, so she helps him bring the org down. She’s a traitor anyway, may as well play the part to the fullest. She expects to be locked away to atone for her sins, but Shinichi has other ideas.

I’m basically retelling my own fic, but I think the most important thing to me is that Sherry is in charge and she gets to decide how close he gets to her. She’s the one with the experience and she knows what she wants and what she’s willing to give him and what she wants to take from him. As time goes on he gains more control and tries to defy her, but she’s one step ahead every time. My queen stays winning!

The second but equally as important thing to me is the devotion on his part. She has a bad reputation and yet he’s still willing to throw everything away for her. It’s like everyone on the outside is telling him she’s bad news but he’s still getting burned just for a chance to love her. Basically he’s down bad for her as he should be.

My girl is a bluffer and mostly all talk, but fuck around and find out. She’s ruthless in her own ways and won’t hesitate to play into her role, self destructive and insane but she’s just passionate okay.

This dynamic is honestly very intriguing, it’s all a game and not meant to be real. So very flirty and fun with very serious consequences but they’re not going to worry about that. It’s almost a break/relief when they’re together which doesn’t make sense cause everything they do is very high stakes and people’s lives are in danger but I think the risk is part of what gets them. It’s very push and pull, will they or won’t they? The almost, and pure frustration but also satisfying at the same time? They shouldn’t make sense, but they do. They made opposites attract, the tension is very real.

She’s cool, calm, and collected while he’s the exact opposite until they settle into their routine and he has no choice but to be just as cool about how casual their relationship is. Not that it’s much of a relationship, cause no labels. She teaches him patience cause he’s way too damn impulsive, and the consequences of his actions. He takes her teachings to heart.

He’s left in the dark a lot and he hates it but again he doesn’t have much of a choice cause she won’t give him the answers. There’s a lot of trust on his part, she doesn’t tell him anything, she has to trust him too but she definitely holds back just in case since she’s paranoid and she is still trying to protect him.

I’ve rambled too much and I don’t think I even made sense. But I think it depends on the setting too. Cause I have other ideas if she is for real riding for the org. There’s a lot to their dynamic but the tldr version is: Sherry is more dominant and Shinichi is hopelessly intrigued. Best of luck to you, Love! Happy writing! <3

[wangjiplayingwangji]

I don’t participate in polls much and I follow up on them even less but there’s this one person going apeshit about a poll rn in the peripherals of my blog and I just gotta say, sometimes people who take poll results as life and death should not have access to the greater internet.

[angelwonie]

X + Y = YOU AND I || jeon wonwoo

PAIRING: academic rival!wonwoo x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 8.6k

GENRE(S): smut, fluff, rivals to lovers, college au

SUMMARY: you wish jeon wonwoo would sometimes act like an insufferable prick instead of the perfect guy, because then you wouldn't have to feel your head spinning each time he looks at you.

WARNINGS: SMUT [unprotected sex, fingering, use of petnames (baby, good girl), praise, some degradation, sex in an empty classroom] wonwoo is so in love

Class discussions where both Wonwoo and you are involved never end well. 

Partly, it’s because none of you possess the ability of backing down from a fight, but mostly it’s because of Wonwoo’s annoying tendencies of having read all the books in the world, which allows him to criticize every word that comes out of your mouth. 

Which again leaves you with no choice but to get angry and argue even more vividly — though Soonyoung claims that’s just your own stubbornness making matters worse. 

He doesn’t get it, though. The desire to beat Wonwoo at his own game each time he opens his mouth. It’s something you can’t entirely explain, but it keeps you grounded, and so you don’t question it too much. The adrenaline that comes along with it is enough for you. 

And that’s exactly what keeps you going today — Wonwoo’s annoying takes on social anthropology.

“I just don’t think cultural differences are the root of conflicts.”

He says this and shrugs, eyes subconsciously drifting to the side to look at you. As expected, you’re already raising your hand to comment on his statement and he has to fight the urge to smile. Despite coming in tired, eyes drooping, you’re eager to partake in a discussion with him. Always. It’s a little too reassuring to think about, so he stops, and instead focuses on what you’re saying. 

“That’s a baseless claim to make,” you scoff, and again, he feels his lip twitch, almost forming a smile. “Of course they are. No differences means nothing to fight about.”

“Yes, in theory,” he says, and his eyes crinkle with the smile he offers you. A smile you can’t seem to tell if is cocky or genuine. “But cultural differences aren't everything. If we don’t have culture, people will still form opinions. And those opinions will still become the roots of conflicts.”

With those words, he crosses his arms over his chest, his elbow bumping into you. 

You’re not sure who came up with the idea of the two of you sitting together in the classroom, but moments like these make you want to find that person and rip their hair out. Because in what universe should you have to argue with Jeon Wonwoo while his shoulder is literally touching yours? 

It’s stupid, unethical, and every other derogatory term you can come up with, but most of all, it’s making it hard to focus. Obviously, it’s not about him, it’s about the closeness itself. You think. Probably. 

You lean a bit to your left so you can actually think of a response, but end up sighing and asking a question instead. 

“So you’re saying conflicts are inevitable?”

He tongues his cheek – a sign that he’s in deep thought – and bumps his elbow into you again. An accident, probably, but it catches your attention nevertheless. 

“I’m saying disagreements become conflicts because we can’t handle our emotions. It’s not differences that are the problem, it’s our way of handling them.”

And there it is — that twinkle in his eyes that signalizes he knows he’s won. You know it, too, from the way he leans back into his chair and your words die down in your throat and the professor nods his head approvingly. Still, you wish he wouldn’t be so fucking happy about it.

“Asshole,” you mumble only loud enough for him to hear as you sink back into the chair. 

He chuckles and you feel your insides turn. God, he’s annoying. Super annoying. 

Especially when he leans a bit to your side of the desk, face a lot closer to yours than it needs to be when he whispers, “Good job.” 

You glare at his soft expression, your own face heating up in something resembling embarrassment. 

“No need to gloat about your success, dickhead.”

“I’m not gloating,” he frowns, the smile slowly fading from his face.

“Sure you aren’t. You’re just kindly reminding me that you’re better than me.”

“That’s not what– That’s not true.”

His voice falters, and he leans back in his chair and taps his pen against the desk. You scoff at him, but it’s nowhere as threatening as you’d like it to be — thrown off by the quiver in his tone. 

“It is true,” you whisper, more to yourself, and avert your gaze from him. 

The professor picks up where he left off, and you let your thoughts scatter and eyes drift closed. It’s been a long day, you think. Thankfully, the professor’s got you and Wonwoo placed in the back, and so he doesn’t notice it when you manage to fall asleep in your chair, head falling to the side. 

Wonwoo notices, though. Your cheek squished against your shoulder, hair in your face. It’s not the first time you’ve fallen asleep in class, and he should probably start scolding you for it, but seeing your under eye bags and hearing your tired voice makes something turn unpleasantly in his stomach. And so he lets you sleep. 

(It’s all because of his perceptiveness.

You know about this trait of his, and it’s awful. How he hands you a pen when you’ve forgotten your own without you having to ask for it. How he knows when to shut up during an argument, because your face tells him he’s won. How he never feels the need to embarrass you, or anyone, for that matter.

He’s a good person in and out, and you hate him for it.) 

It’s not before the class is nearing its end that Wonwoo decides to wake you. 

“Y/N,” you feel a hand on your shoulder, shaking you awake, and then a deep voice hits your ears. Wonwoo’s voice, you realize instantly, and then criticize your heart for jumping at the thought. “You might wanna wake up for this.”

“Huh?” 

Wonwoo’s smiling at you softly, and you sit up straight, confused. At least until you see your professor clutching his phone against his ear, muttering aggressively.

“His wife called,” Wonwoo explains in a hushed tone, leaning towards you so you hear him better. “I feel kinda bad for the guy. She doesn’t seem to like him very much.”

You rub your eyes and yawn, then realize Wonwoo is sitting right there, and clear your throat. 

“Maybe he’s an asshole.”

“Maybe,” he turns to look at you. “Girls like assholes, though, don’t they? 

Your breath hitches in your throat involuntarily. You’re not sure whether it’s from the question or from the way he’s looking at you – like he’s already got you all figured out – but it’s making you nervous. All of it, him. And now that you’re discussing a topic you’re not certain about, it shows. 

You chuckle nervously, “Where’d you get that from?”

“You, mostly.”

“Excuse me?”

He offers you a smile, one that you subconsciously accept by feeling your insides turn to mush. This has got to be the longest you’ve spoken to him without mutual friends around, and without arguing. Truthfully, you don’t hate it. You’d never have thought that this would be the topic of your first ever civil conversation, though. 

“Minghao? Seungkwan? Your type’s pretty obvious.”

“Do you spy on me or something?” you ask, a little baffled he knows the names of your previous boyfriends. You weren’t hiding it or anything, but Wonwoo’s never shown much interest in you outside of class. “Plus, that was months ago.” 

He fixes his glasses and tilts his head to the side.

“Yeah? And what type of guys do you like now?”

You open your mouth to answer, but the words die down in your throat. Not assholes, you could say. He’s sparked your curiosity, though — what type of guys do you like now? Because you know for a fact that you’re done with assholes, which is why you’ve been trying your hardest to classify Wonwoo as one up until now. 

“I–”

You’re saved from answering his question by your professor, who’s successfully hung up on his wife and is now announcing that class is over. 

A sigh of relief escapes past your lips — another thing that doesn’t go unnoticed by Wonwoo, but he doesn’t push. He simply gathers his stuff, his pen that you borrowed included, and slings his bag over his shoulder. You smile at him, softly, a little hesitantly, because it feels right to do so.

His glasses rest at the tip of his nose as he stands up and says, “See you around, Y/N.”

Then, he walks off and you no longer fight the smile that makes its way to your face. 

—

“Okay, so I think we all know why this meeting is being held.”

This is the first thing Soonyoung says as he sits down by the round table in the cafeteria, latte almost spilling out of his cup. You and Minjeong perch up in curiosity, and she puts her phone away in favor of commenting Soonyoung’s poor word choices. 

“Meeting? It’s our lunch break, dude.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he rolls his eyes at Minjeong who snickers. “This lunch break is being held because–”

“–Because we need to eat?” you raise a brow. 

“Y/N, you are literally in no position to act all smart right now. It’s you that we need to talk about.”

“Me?”

You look to Minjeong, but she only shrugs, meaning that this is a Soonyoung thing. You try racking your brain to find what the hell he might want to discuss, but nothing comes to you. Not even when Soonyoung offers you one of his signature smirks that signalize he’s up to no good. 

“You, and hot nerd Jeon Wonwoo.”

Your mouth falls open in genuine shock. “Wonwoo?”

“Did you just call him ‘hot nerd’?” Minjeong slaps her hand over her mouth as she laughs, but stops when she sees you glaring at her. “Damn, okay, someone’s defensive.”

“Yes, Wonwoo,” Soonyoung leans over the table, hands together on the table like some sort of Hollywood detective. “What’s the deal with you and him?”

“What deal?” you look to the side for some help, but all Minjeong offers you is a smirk. She’s enjoying this a little too much for your liking. “Why are you looking at me like that? There’s no deal. We don’t get along, that’s all.”

“You sure looked like you got along yesterday,” Soonyoung giggles like a little schoolgirl, and you feel your face heating up. Of course he noticed, even though you barely talked with Wonwoo for three minutes. “Also, have you seen how he looks at you?”

“Like he wants to kill me?”

“Like he wants to kiss you. You’re mistaking passion for hate, babe. Or maybe you’re just pretending, because there’s no way you’re not seeing how cute you are together.”

“Me and Wonwoo?” you ask again, incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding. There’s no way.”

“You have to admit, he’s pretty hot,” Minjeong cuts in. “Plus, you guys have, like, undeniable chemistry.”

“The only chemistry me and him share is the class. Which already sucks enough.”

“You know what they say, denial is a river in egypt.” 

“Nobody says that, Minjeong,” you glare at her, deciding that it’s better to get out of here before you start doubting yourself. “Anyway, I gotta go to class, so get those Wonwoo delusions out of your heads, okay? Because that’s what this is — delusion.”

“Funny you had to clarify that.”

“Just because you’re insufferable,” you send them a painfully fake smile and grab your things so you can walk away, almost missing the words Soonyoung mutters under his breath. 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

—

Usually, you can’t be found in the university’s backyard ripping your hair, but usually, you also don’t fail your chemistry exams. 

You might be acting a tad bit dramatic, running out of class and sitting down on the grass with your back pressed against the stone cold wall to cool off, but that’s something to worry about later. Right now you’re just focused on feeling sorry for yourself. Which you are. To a very high degree. 

“Are you okay?”

You jump at the sudden intrusion to your self-wallowing, turning around only to be met with a familiar face. His glasses are high up on his nose and his hair is neat, smile lines nowhere to be seen.

“Wonwoo?” you ask, a bit embarrassed that he’s seeing you in this state, especially when he looks so put together. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I read here every free period,” he says, frowning. “It’s you that should be in class right now.”

“Do you have my schedule memorized or something?” you look at him accusingly, pulling your legs closer to your chest for comfort. “Anyway, I’m just sitting here.”

Wonwoo’s silent for a moment, pondering on what to do, and then he takes a step in your direction. You don’t run away or protest, so he takes another one and another one until he’s close enough to sink down on the grass next to you. 

“You look more like you’re drowning in sadness.”

“Yeah, well, I failed an exam, so,” you say and hand him the paper your hands gripped just a moment ago — your test with every mistake highlighted in red. The whole sheet might’ve just been red at this point, you think. 

He examines it, brows furrowed, then hands it back. “Chemistry? I thought you were good at that, though.”

Your heart falters in embarrassment.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. That’s why I’m fucking sad.”

You don’t mean for it to sound so angry, but it comes out harsh and bitter. It’s nothing like Wonwoo’s used to hearing you speak. And what comes after shocks him even more — the tears that well up in your eyes and then fall, he can see them even as you turn away from him, perhaps in fear of judgement. 

“Wait,” he says, a little dumbfounded. “Are you crying?”

It’s a stupid question, but his tone isn’t judging. Still, it doesn't ease anything — you feel like you’re about to explode. And what’s worse is that he’s here, Jeon Wonwoo, of all people, watching you cry over something so miniscule that he probably can’t even relate to. You’re not sure why it bothers you so much that he’s seeing you in this state, but it does, it really does bother you, so much you feel like you might die. 

“Yes, I’m crying, Wonwoo,” you say, wiping your cheeks to your best ability. “Jesus christ. I did badly on a test, so I already feel like shit, and then you always have to come up to me with those stupid comments of yours.”

He blinks in surprise from behind his glasses, and even through your bitterness, you think to yourself that he looks cute like that — confused, for the very first time. At least it’s the very first time you are seeing him like this. But, to be fair, this is his very first time seeing you like this, too. 

“I thought you liked it when I'm mean to you, though,” he says finally, and you look at him in disbelief.

“Wonwoo, are you seriously just here to imply I have a degradation kink?” 

He remains silent for a minute, hesitating.

“Great.” 

You laugh through the tears that have now stopped falling, and Wonwoo exhales in something that resembles relief. His gaze is still set on you, unrelenting, like he’s still trying to put together the puzzle. Does he want to leave? 

A part of you hopes he won’t. Because despite that it’s a bit embarrassing, you could use someone to talk to right now. Even if it’s just so you can get your frustration out somehow. 

“What I’m trying to say is,” he starts, choosing his words carefully. “I didn't mean it like that. I never do.”

You meet his gaze – soft eyes that remain otherwise unreadable – and let out a breathy chuckle. 

“Yeah, whatever.”

You kick one of the stones in front of you, and watch it bounce a couple of times before it settles a little further away. Wonwoo doesn’t leave, even though you’re giving no signs of continuing the conversation. He just sits there, shoulder a centimeter or two from yours, and listens to both your breaths. Both uneven — his is nervous, while yours is upset. 

“I’m serious, Y/N,” he says finally, catching you off guard just enough for you to turn in his direction again. “If I ever cross the line, tell me. I don’t want to hurt you.”

He bites his lip awkwardly as you feel your heart dropping to your stomach. It’s silent for a while, the back of your throat burning — threatening that you might start crying again if you say something now. 

He pushes his glasses further up his nose, and that’s when you decide to take the leap. Leap meaning that you lean forward to engulf him in a hug, your head coming to rest on his shoulder. 

It catches him off guard, you can tell. His muscles tense, breath caught up in his throat and your own heart beats so fast you think you might die. But it feels nice, hugging him. And it feels even nicer when he wraps his arms around you, too, albeit hesitantly. 

You stay like that, bathing in his scent – peach and jasmine with a hint of something you can’t quite identify – and somehow, you feel at peace. The test is still at the back of your head, obviously, bugging you, but it’s faint compared to Wonwoo and his hand that begins to slowly stroke your hair. 

“Thank you.”

The words are whispered into the crook of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. 

They’re so quiet he barely hears them, might’ve mistaken them for a hiccup hadn’t he paid complete attention, but he is. He is paying attention. To how your muscles loosen up in his arms and there are no longer tears soaking through his shirt; how his own heart beats a little faster than usual; how he’s so painfully aware of the fact that talking to you only makes him like you more.

More meaning that he’s afraid he might be advancing from the useless crush he’d developed watching you argue with him during class. Advancing into uncharted territory that he’s never even intended exploring. Though he supposes he sabotaged himself by approaching you today. 

“It’s nothing.”

But it’s a lie. It is something — the butterflies in your stomach or the warmth spreading across Wonwoo’s chest. Whatever you want to regard it as, it is something. 

And that something settles in the very depths of your mind and his mind alike. 

—

When Soonyoung announces that he’s bringing Wonwoo to come study with you and Minjeong in the library, your first instinct is to tell him you’re not coming. 

Obviously, you’re embarrassed. And scared. And a million other things you can’t even begin to describe with words. He saw you crying, after all. Jeon Wonwoo, top of the class, saw you crying over a bad grade. It really doesn’t get much worse than that. 

Still, you go. Mostly because you know staying at the dorm would spark questions from your nosy friends, but also because you don’t want Wonwoo thinking you’re avoiding him. Or else he’s going to think you care — which, essentially, you do. But he doesn’t have to know that. 

“Do you think Wonwoo will laugh at me if I get the questions wrong?” Minjeong asks as you stand outside the door to the library, her hand on the handle.

“No,” you say. “He’s not like that.”

She opens the door, and you walk inside, met with the smell of books. Soonyoung and Wonwoo are sitting by the chess boards, talking, and you feel something turn in your stomach. Is it too late to leave now? Judging by Minjeong’s worried face, she isn’t so keen on being here either. Maybe you could both just go home.

Yet when she bites her lip and asks, “Are you sure?”, you can’t bring yourself to lie just so you won’t have to face him.

“Yeah. You should ask him to teach you if you don’t understand something, you know. Better to feel a little embarrassed than to fail an exam.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Just as she says this, Soonyoung catches your gaze and waves eagerly, urging you and Minjeong to come closer. He whispers something to Wonwoo, and he, too, turns to smile in your direction.

“Guess there’s no backing out now,” Minjeong giggles and you nod your head. There really isn’t. 

The two of you make your way to the table where the boys are sitting and pick your chairs. Minjeong’s quick to sit next to Soonyoung, so you’re left with no other option but to plop down on the chair closest to Wonwoo. Normally, that would’ve only mildly annoyed you, but now, three days after he saw you bawling your eyes out, you can feel your heartbeat speed up vastly.

“Hey,” Wonwoo says and you almost jump. You’re not sure why, but you hadn’t expected him to speak to you first. 

“Hi,” you reply and try smiling at him. Thankfully, he smiles, too. “What are you guys studying?”

“Chemistry,” he says, and upon seeing you wince, he’s quick to add, “‘Cause Soonyoung’s struggling with it. He asked me to teach him.”

You have to bite back a smile at his worried tone. “Ah, I see.”

He fixes his glasses, and clears his throat.

“It’s a really tricky subject, though, so I understand why you– uh, he, finds it troublesome.”

“Right,” you nod your head with a giggle, and you can almost feel Soonyoung’s stare burning into your side. It’s fine, though, because now, Wonwoo looks the slightest bit more relaxed. 

You pull out your notebooks and textbook along with a coffee you’d made earlier, and when Wonwoo says your notes look pretty, you can’t help but grin. You kind of wish he weren’t so nice to you, but it doesn’t make you feel awkward, so you suppose you don’t have much room to complain. 

It’s probably just reality catching up to you that’s making you nervous — the fact that he’s not so argumentative outside of class, and that you definitely felt something pull at the very bottom of your heart that day you failed the exam. That, and how the feeling isn’t giving any signs of leaving soon.

You let those thoughts wander as you start making notes, and soon enough, even Soonyoung goes quiet, occupied by his own stuff. It stays like that for a while, and at some point, Wonwoo’s knee bumps into yours. Warmth spreads all across you and you look at him. 

“Sorry,” he whispers apologetically, retracting his leg, and the warmth subsides. In return you send him a smile in which you hope he can’t glimpse your slight – and unsettling – disappointment. 

“It’s okay.”

And then it’s silent again, your body painfully aware of the fact that if you lean your leg a bit to the right you’ll touch Wonwoo. It’s not like you want to touch him, at least you don’t think you do, but the awareness is slightly nerve-wracking for some unknown reason. Everything about him is.  

“Wonwoo,” Minjeong says, breaking the silence, making both his and your heads shoot up to look at her. “Y/N told me you could help me if I asked, so… I was wondering if you could explain biomolecules to me.”

“Of course.”

A quick smile flashes in your direction and then he’s leaning over the table to help Minjeong. His fingers follow the illustrations in her textbook and he starts talking — something about structure, you think. You listen intently, and it makes sense even though you’ve barely started the chapter, but you can’t bring yourself to take notes of what he’s saying. Can’t bring yourself to take your eyes off of him.

You wonder silently if he always was this handsome. You try to think of the times you spoke to him in class before, but it’s hard to recall his face in any other form than what your eyes meet now — focused gaze, lips moving to the rhythm of his voice. His glasses are slowly sliding down his nose, and you feel an immeasurable urge to push them up, but he beats you to it. 

“Basically, they’re essential for cell division to happen,” he says, and you lean forward to look at the picture he’s pointing to.

Your shoulder bumps into his and he turns to the side. You notice, but don’t react in fear that you’ll just end up giggling like a schoolgirl. Instead, you pretend to read some of the text in the book. 

Wonwoo picks up where he left off, voice a little hoarser than before, but you don’t move. Neither does he.

“Can you say that again?” you ask after he says something you don’t understand. 

He repeats with his head turned in your direction, and your eyes drift down to his lips. You don’t want them to, it just happens, your stomach tying into a tight knot. You’re almost entirely sure nobody is supposed to look this hot while talking about biomolecules. Or was it morphogenesis? You honestly don’t know. 

You don’t know why you feel like this with him of all people. Truly, there could be a lot of factors playing into it. The fact that he’s a smooth talker; the fact that he’s both intelligent and knowledgeable; the fact that you’ve grown to know him — what makes his blood boil and what makes him chuckle; the fact that he’s a constant in a sea of variables. 

Maybe that last point especially. That even when everything else goes to hell, the moment you step into social anthropology class, he’s always there. Always willing to entertain you with, albeit sometimes pointless, banter. 

You don’t even know what this is, though. Feeling your head spin when you look at him, having mini heart attacks when he says your name — are these the signs of you going insane? It could very well be that, you think. Insanity feels like the right word to explain your state right now. 

“Y/N,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You listening?”

Your eyes drift back to his own, and you swear you see a glimpse of amusement playing in his gaze when you mumble a quiet “Yeah.”

Suddenly very aware of Soonyoung and Minjeong’s presence, as well as Wonwoo’s burning stare, you stand up, dusting off your clothes.

“I just need some fresh air,” you offer as an explanation. 

“Mind if I join?”

You look at Wonwoo in disbelief as he asks the question. What the fuck? You don’t mind – at least in the sense that implies you don’t like his company – but it’s the same issue again; he makes you nervous. Goodbye to going for a relaxing walk, you suppose. And goodbye to whatever left there is of your sanity. 

After what seems like hours of overthinking, you decide to get your shit together and send him a smile paired with a nod. Minjeong raises a brow in your direction, but doesn’t inquire further and internally you thank her for that. You’re not sure what you would’ve told her if she asked. 

You and Wonwoo leave the library together, shoulders close together just like when you were sitting, and you swallow the lump in your throat. 

“Everything okay?” he asks as you leave the building. “You seem a little dazed.”

The air is still cold, though winter is nearing its end and spring is slipping through the cracks. You pull your jacket closer to your body in hopes of both warming yourself up and slowing down your heartbeat, but it only fulfills one of those wishes, leaving you to deal with the latter yourself. 

“I’m alright,” you respond with a soft smile. “Thank you for helping Minjeong, by the way. You’re a great teacher.”

Wonwoo’s smile lines shyly make an appearance. “Thanks. I’ve been thinking about becoming a real one, actually.”

You stop walking and turn your head in disbelief. Somehow, you didn’t expect that answer. Wonwoo was always a diligent student, but now that you come to think of it, he never really talked about his plans for the future, or what he wanted to do with his degree in chemical engineering. 

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah,” his cheeks redden ever so slightly. “Teaching chemistry honestly doesn’t sound that bad.”

You take a moment to think it through — him, in a suit and those glasses that fall down his nose, teaching kids about biomolecules. The idea is foreign, and yet, it fits just right. 

You nudge him with your shoulder. “Professor Jeon, huh? It would suit you.”

He lets out a snort of laughter that sounds nothing like the small chuckles you’d hear from him during class. But it sounds nice, this loud laughter and you bathe in it for as long as it lasts. You’re starting to enjoy this whole ‘being kind to each other’ thing. Suits you better than yelling about something stupid in class. It suits him better, too. 

Content with everything, you begin walking again and he follows suit. The grass is a little wet from yesterday’s rain and outgrown as it is, it tickles your ankles. It might’ve been mildly annoying if you weren’t so stupidly happy for whatever reason.  

Whatever reason being Wonwoo, of course. You might be bad at chemistry, but you like to think you’re not dumb — at least not in an oblivious way. It’s become quite obvious, you think, that you like him. 

The thought partly makes you want to kick your feet in the air and partly, it makes you want to rip your hair out. You like Wonwoo. It’s something so unexpected it makes you feel very bare as you stand there on the grass outside of your university, with your cold hands buried in the pockets of your jacket and Wonwoo’s eyes glimmering in the faint sunlight. 

You like him. God, it feels weird to admit. 

“About that day…” Wonwoo’s voice brings you back to reality, and you take a second to register what he’s saying.

“I freaked you out, didn’t I?” you ask. 

“No, no, it’s not that,” he looks away and sighs softly, only to look directly at you the next second. “I just wanted to make sure you remember that one mistake doesn’t make you a failure. I should’ve said it earlier, but that day I was a bit… taken aback, I suppose. Not by the crying, obviously, but by the whole situation. And you.” 

“Me,” you repeat, tasting the word on your tongue. Your heart starts beating a little faster, despite your best efforts at staying calm. He’s just talking after all; it’s not like this is some sort of love confession.

“Not in a bad way. Just in a new way,” he’s quick to assure you and you feel your heart swell in your chest. 

“New. You make it sound so pretty.”

You laugh a bit, looking down on your hands. It. Does he even know what you mean? Does he know you’re talking about the fact that you’re slowly but surely starting to fall in love with him? Or is he just talking about seeing you vulnerable the other day? 

“What would you call it?” he asks and you can’t stop your gaze from drifting back to him.

“I don’t know, confusing? And kind of insane.”

You swear his eyes drop to your lips for a mere second at that. He doesn’t say anything, just walks by you in silence, and it drives you crazy. You wish he’d say something – anything – just so you’d know if you’re even on the same page, but you don’t rush him. 

Finally, he smiles at you. 

“If insanity is losing control, then yes, I suppose I’m going insane. But it doesn’t feel all that insane to me.”

His eyes crinkle, soft streaks of sun painted across his face and you almost sigh. In delight, relief, or maybe fear, you’re not sure, but it’s those words, you think, that will linger. Those are the types of words to never abandon your mind, you’re sure of it. 

“Did you rehearse this in front of the mirror or something?” you scoff at him, heart heavy in your chest. 

He only laughs, and the sound stays in the air for a long time after you’ve left. 

—

To say you were shocked to see Jeon Wonwoo sitting outside of his dorm with his head in his hands would be a major understatement. 

You had grown closer to him in the past weeks — walking shoulder to shoulder around campus; him helping you with your homework — it all would’ve seemed unlikely had someone proposed the idea to you a month prior, but now, you had grown to truly enjoy his company. And he enjoyed yours, too. 

In some ways, it stayed normal. 

Comments and half-mean, half-endearing remarks remained untouched; what didn’t was your heart. It seems to be working against you at all times, beating too quickly when Wonwoo unexpectedly smiled in your direction, and dropping down to your stomach in fear whenever you saw him tippling over in emotion, only for the feeling to fade to the sound of his laugh.

This time, though, it doesn’t fade, only intensifies as you hear him curse under his breath. 

“Wonwoo?” you try, and his shoulders tense ever so slightly. 

You watch as he sighs, rubbing his eyes, then sits up straight, back against the wall. He doesn’t respond, even as his eyes, frail as ever, look into yours. They’re a bit darker than usual, and his lashes flutter as he blinks up at you. 

There’s no one in the hallway, as if this part of the school emptied just to grant you a moment of privacy; a deciding moment, something in your stomach tells you. 

“What’s happened?” you ask softly, quietly, unsure of what else to do with this obviously unhappy Jeon Wonwoo that’s sitting on the ground in front of you. 

“It’s nothing,” he mumbles in response, leaning on his arms to stand up. “Just some school stuff.”

The corners of his mouth lift in a small smile, but you call his bullshit. You don’t necessarily doubt the genuinity of his smile, but the way he said it makes you think there is something that happened. 

Taking a step in his direction, you nudge him with your elbow. 

“What, the golden boy failed a test for the first time in his life?”

His eyes change at that — soft crinkles appearing at the very edges of them. His shoulders relax, too, and though it’s barely visible, you see it clearly. The air feels a lot lighter when he tongues his cheek and nudges you back. 

“You sure run your mouth a lot, Y/N,” he grins and you feel butterflies flapping around in the very pits of your stomach. Then the smile fades to be replaced with a faux scolding look as he says, “I suggest you stop.” 

You move to stand right in front of him, arms crossed over your chest. He’s taller, and you have to tilt your chin to look him right in the eyes as you giggle with a hint of playfulness in your gaze. 

“Or what?”

He sees the smile playing on your face, the giddiness in your tone, and his heart bangs loudly against his chest. You look gorgeous today — well, that’s nothing new but it never ceases to amaze him how you can look prettier for each day that goes by.

Is this it? Is this when he’s supposed to make a move, like Soonyoung told him to? What does even ‘make a move’ mean, exactly? 

He supposes it varies — just like the value of variables in the equations he solves so often. 

Then how come he can’t solve this one?

You’re still standing there, looking at him without a care in the world, and he thinks that he’d never forgive himself if he screwed this up. At the same time, it doesn’t seem like you’re ready to run away from him, and so perhaps making a move doesn’t sound so stupid right now. 

“Or,” he starts, and lets his eyes glide down to your lips for a moment to test the waters. You don’t scream in fear, and he takes it as a good sign. “I’m gonna have to make you.”

You giggle. “Yeah? And how exactly are you gonna do that, big boy?” 

He feels his stomach turning upside down, squeezed by some invisible force and he has to remind himself to breathe. Is he really going through with this? Don’t start something you can’t end, Soonyoung would probably tell him. For once listening to his advice seems reasonable. 

“Like this.”

And before he can even think of backing out, he brings the palms of his hands to cup your face and leans down, placing his lips against yours. 

Taken aback, you let out a startled noise, eyes growing wide. He hesitates upon seeing your reaction, about to pull away when you finally kiss him back, tongue swiping over his lower lip ever so slightly. 

A groan. Then, he’s bringing his hand to the back of your head and pulling you towards him, kissing you until your head starts to spin, and kissing you through that, too. 

Your arms hold onto his shoulders for support, cheek leaning into his touch. Your noses touch clumsily; teeth clash when you open your mouth to let him explore it. Still, it feels like heaven and you can’t bring yourself to pull away for a breath. 

Wonwoo, though, the more sensible one of you two, pulls back after a while, a smile on his lips and breath ragged.  

You look at him — waiting for him to pick up where he left off, but he doesn’t move.

“That’s it?” you ask, and for a brief moment, all color drains from Wonwoo’s face. Did you not like it? Did he do something wrong?

“What do you mean?”

“You’re just going to leave me hanging like that?”

Your lip pulled between your teeth, you look at home expectantly, heart still hammering against your ribs. Truly, it’s not just about wanting more – though that plays a part in it, too – it’s also about whether this was a one-time-thing.

“Was it not enough for you?” he asks, tilting his head to the side after he’s calmed his racing heart. 

“Considering I’ve been waiting for this, like, a month,” you say. “not really, no.”

He smiles down on you — that same smile that makes you weak in the knees, and you know there’s no turning back now. Not that there ever was. 

“I think you’re a bit greedy,” he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and you shiver in anticipation. “I’ve been waiting for half a year, and yet, I still have some self control left.”

“I never had any in the first place.”

And with that, you pull him close for another kiss. 

He doesn’t protest, opening his mouth and sucking on your tongue. His hands move down to your waist this time, pulling your body flush against his. You’ve never experienced being in such close proximity with him, and yet, you don’t feel all that nervous. It all slips away with his soft touches. 

Your hands in his hair — it feels foreign, but he likes that feeling, gets drunk on it. But it’s some kind of reversed intoxication; he doesn’t feel faint; if anything, he’s feeling more sober than ever before as he bathes in your taste, your scent, you. This must be what love feels like, he thinks. This must be it, or else he’s certain he’ll never know love. If this isn’t it, he doesn’t want to know love. 

He hopes you’re at least feeling a fraction of what he’s feeling as he pushes you gently against the wall, hands roaming your body. You do the same, holding onto him like he’s your lifeline, tugging at the strands of hair available to you. 

So caught up in this feeling of bliss, you don’t even notice how you’re not alone with Wonwoo anymore until you hear laughter from a group of bypassing students. 

“Get a room,” someone says and you pull away from Wonwoo immediately, face hot with embarrassment.

He doesn’t appear shaken, though — rather, you glimpse the shadow of a smile playing on his lips as he urges the students to leave. Just as you’re about to ask what he’s smiling about, his fingers close around your wrist and he pulls you along the hallway. He’s all rushed steps until you reach the nearest classroom that turns out to be empty, and he walks inside, dragging you with him. 

Upon closing the door behind him, Wonwoo drags you into his chest. You look up at him, his inquiring gaze that asks for permission, and smile.

“Are you sure?” he asks and your grin turns teasing. 

“Sure about what, Woo?” 

He tongues his cheek, unsure of what to say. You’re just plain teasing him – that much is obvious – so he supposes he can give the same energy back. 

“Sure that you want me to fuck you.”

You’re taken aback, though perhaps you shouldn’t be, considering how you set yourself up for this with your question. Still, your breath catches in your throat and your hand holds onto one of the nearby desks for stability as you face him. Wonwoo looks different now, to some extent; maybe it’s the lighting that gives his eyes a different glow, or maybe it’s how the air has suddenly become swollen with tension. 

Whatever the cause, it excites you to no end, the way he’s looking at you when you take his hand in yours. Like you’re the only thing that matters. 

“Yeah,” you say finally. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

At that, he pulls you impossibly closer. He takes off his glasses in a manner that you in a drunken state would’ve most likely called seductive, and throws them away somewhere you can’t see, too busy kissing him back when his lips crash into yours for the nth time today. He kisses you so hard it knocks the breath out of your lungs, and all thoughts out of your brain. 

Mouth open, you let his tongue explore it and simultaneously, you allow him to walk you further into the classroom, until the back of your thighs hit one of the desks. Standing between your legs, he pushes your shirt up so his fingers can graze the bare skin underneath, and you sigh in content. 

Before you know it, he’s pulling away to peel off your shirt and bra, leaving you bare in front of him.

“You’re beautiful, you know,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to yours again.

You smile into the kiss, goosebumps spreading over your skin with the touches of his fingers that glide further up your thigh, until they slip under your skirt. Knuckles running over your soaked panties, he bites your lip and you let out a delighted moan. 

“You’re so wet,” he comments as he slips a finger under your panties, running it through your folds. You can already feel another flood of arousal approaching just because of his words. “Won’t even need to prep you, huh?”

You desperately shake your head no, and he chuckles.

He lays his palm flat against your clit and you squirm until he retracts it. Playfulness in his gaze, he smears your arousal all over your cunt, ignoring your whines. This takes him at least half a minute before he finally – upon hearing you whimper his name in a way that makes his pants a whole lot tighter all of a sudden – gives in and slides one of his fingers into your pussy. 

You throw your head back with a whimper, holding onto his shoulder as he starts pumping it in and out of you, noises caused by the movement filling the air. 

“Oh my god,” you breathe as he adds another one, your cunt tightening around his digits endlessly. 

He smiles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder which is an immense contrast to how he curls his fingers inside of you, hitting that one spot that makes your toes curl. He plunges his digits in and out of your hole as his thumb circles your clit, until you’re moaning loudly — despite how little time has really passed. 

It’s in utter shock that you watch him retract his hand completely, sucking the arousal from his fingers with a smile. 

“Wha–” is all you manage to say before he flips you over, bending you over the desk. 

You’re painfully aware of how bare you are in front of him — your naked cunt on display, because your skirt doesn’t do much to cover anything at all, and your tits pressed against the wood of the desk. Plus the fact that the locked door won’t do much good if someone is to have class in this room next period. Which would be in about thirty minutes. 

Not that you care. Or, essentially, you do care, but now it doesn’t really matter — besides, you’re certain that Wonwoo would’ve managed to come up with some sort of excuse had you been forced to open the door for some frustrated professor. 

Amidst your thoughts, you almost fail to hear the sound of Wonwoo unclasping his belt. Almost. But when you do hear it, something turns pleasantly in your stomach. 

“You gonna be good for me and stay quiet?” Wonwoo asks and you feel his hands move to hold your hips, cock positioned at your entrance. 

You mumble something in affirmation, something you’re not even sure you can hear yourself, and spread your legs to urge him on. You feel his cock prod at your soaked cunt, run through your folds languidly; again and again, until you’re whining his name in protest. 

He only chuckles at your behavior, and asks, albeit teasingly, “What did you say?”

Gathering your thoughts, you try your best to ignore the way he’s dragging his dick over your pussy, occasionally rubbing over your clit. 

“Yes, I’ll be good for you, Wonwoo.”

Pleased with this response, he finally enters you — cock stretching you open and making you cry out, holding onto the desk for support. He’s big, you realize, tears prodding at your eyes as he bottoms out. 

“Yeah? Gonna be my good girl?” 

You nod and nod, fingers turning white from how you’re gripping the wooden desk once he starts moving — in languid strokes, he manages to turn your moans louder and louder. 

His hands hold onto your hips, pushing them against him so you’re further impaled on his cock with each thrust, and you swear you feel him all the way in your stomach. It’s a good feeling, one you can barely register fully with the way your mind’s gone hazy. 

You hardly notice it when one of his hands lets go of your hips and comes up to your lips, fingers tapping at your chin as a signal to open your mouth. When you do, he slips two digits inside and you suck on them obediently, tightening around his cock. 

Wonwoo smiles.

“Thought I told you to be quiet, baby.”

In all honesty, he loves the nosies you’re making, but he can’t risk someone starting to bang on the door before he’s got you falling apart completely. Besides, the sight of you sucking on his fingers is just as pleasing; just as effective in making his cock twitch in your cunt. 

Your walls suck him in perfectly, the sound of him gliding in and out of your pussy loud in the empty classroom. His thrusts grow gradually harder; the desk starts moving in rhythm with them, and you can’t help letting out moans and whimpers that his digits in your mouth do a poor job of concealing. 

He realizes this, and decides on removing his fingers so they can grab at your hair instead, pulling your back closer to his chest. Your tits bounce with his movements, and he plays with them briefly, groaning as your pussy clamps down on him especially hard at that, but then his hand moves between your legs to tend to your clit. 

He rubs it in circles, granting you an occasional pinch or slap that makes you cry out, and you feel the knot in your stomach grow tighter and tighter. 

“Feels so good, Wonwoo,” you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks as his fingers abuse your swollen clit. 

“I know, baby.”

Barely coherent, you beg him not to stop, and he wonders whatever even prompted you to think that he might want to stop. He only fucks into you harder, hand on your hips to steady the thrusts that bring you closer and closer to coming. 

“Wonwoo,” you say. “So close.”

“Yeah? Gonna come for me, baby? Gonna come all over my cock like a slut?”

You nod, though he probably doesn't see, and he pulls you even closer, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the sight in front of him. And to think he could’ve had this earlier had he taken the chance. You in the shortest skirt he’s ever seen, moaning his name like you don’t care if anyone hears — he honestly thinks he might be in heaven. 

“Good girl,” he groans, and that’s what sends you over the edge, your pussy clamping down on his cock as you reach your orgasm. “Good fucking girl.”

He comes less than five seconds later, buried deep inside of you as his cum coats your walls. You whimper at the overstimulation of his last thrusts, collapsing on top of the desk when he pulls out. 

He’s careful not to hurt you, but you still wince slightly, which prompts him to ask you if you’re okay.

“Never better,” you reply, and as soon as you say it, you realize it’s true. 

Wonwoo smiles. He helps you clean up – repeatedly apologizing that he’s wiping you clean with the paper by the classroom sink, even though you tell him it’s fine – and puts his glasses on again. It kind of makes you wish he’d never taken them off, but there’s no way you’re telling him that. Your opinion about his beauty is something you’ll keep to yourself for now. 

You get ready to leave just as someone knocks on the door, and Wonwoo opens it for a very flustered professor that tells you he’s sorry for interrupting. Wonwoo tries telling him it’s not like that – though it definitely is like that, and the blush coating his cheeks does nothing to hide it – and finally, you’re in the hallway, free. 

“Poor guy,” you comment, a smile playing on your lips.

Wonwoo sighs. “Tell me about it. And here I was, thinking we’d gotten lucky.”

“I think we did get lucky, though.”

You say this without thinking it through, but from the way Wonwoo’s eyes light up, you’re glad you didn’t. 

Suddenly, the doors to all classrooms in the hallway open and out come tired students, marking the start of the next period. Which you’re supposed to spend in biology.

You sigh, and Wonwoo seems to get it, because he tells you to leave for class. 

“By the way, Y/N,” Wonwoo says just as you’re about to leave. Something in his gaze tells you this isn’t just a ‘by the way’ thing. “In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m really in love with you. And I’d like you to be my girlfriend.”

“Well, you’re in luck, mister,” you kiss his jaw with a grin. “Because it so happens that I’m in love with you, too. And I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

TAGLIST: @just-here-to-read-01 @syn-hhj @nikkell @dollyji

[babysukiii]

the rooms are all on fire (every time that you walk in)

// melissa has a thing for her new neighbor, but she refuses to let it go too far because of the age difference. though, the redhead might realize how deep her feelings go once it’s too late. //

warnings: insecure!melissa, reader is so painfully in love with melissa it’s hilarious, melissa is an idiot who can’t handle emotions, pining, mutual pining, jealous!reader, jealous!melissa, brief gary x melissa (they go on one date), reader is in her twenties.

melissa knows right away that she doesn’t like you. you’re too young, too loud, too perky, too nice. you had moved in across the hall from her a couple months ago, and had knocked on her door the same day you moved in. you had this big smile on your face, along with this large tupperware of brownies. though, in your defense it had not been a good day for melissa. her ex husband had just revealed he had an affair while they were still married, and even though she no longer loved joe, it still hurt.

“who the hell are you?” she asks, as soon as she swings the door open. your smile doesn’t even falter, and it’s the most annoying thing melissa has ever seen. “i’m y/n! i just moved into the apartment across the hall. i just wanted to introduce myself and give you these.” your western accent indicated you were far from home, and the positive energy radiating off of you only seemed to put melissa in a worse mood than she already was. you hand her the tupperware of brownies, and she scowls.

“we don’t really introduce ourselves to neighbors ‘round here. your lucky you didn’t knock on 402’s door. he’s a creep.” she mutters as she takes the tub of sweets. “oh. thanks for the warning.” you joke, and you tilt your head to side, “i never got your name.” you add and she snorts. “cause i never gave it, kid.” she responds curtly before shutting the door right in your face.

that was your first impression of melissa. it was enough to make any sane person steer clear of her… but you weren’t necessarily a sane woman. you were usually up before eleven every morning to go on a run or do a small workout. one morning you wake up extra early, and catch the redhead in the elevator. you don’t appear to notice the way her eyes roam up your tight leggings, and small zipped up sweater that clung to your body. “good morning, neighbor.” you greet her, and she keeps this stone cold expression etched onto her features.

“morning.” she flatly responds, clearly uninterested. “did you like the brownies?” you inquire curiously, as the elevator door closes behind you. “i’m not a fan of chocolate. i prefer pumpkin or apple.” she bluntly replies, and you don’t let her attitude discourage you. in fact, you visibly pep up at the newly found information. “i love pumpkin cinnamon rolls. next time i make some, i’ll bring some over for you.” you say, as the elevator door opens. “i’ll see ya around, neighbor! have a good day.” you call out as you rush towards the exit of the building. melissa rolls her eyes as the elevator doors close, and she continues her way to the parking garage.

your perkiness in the mornings was something melissa couldn’t adjust to. she didn’t want to. as soon as you realized the redhead was in the elevator every morning at 7:20, you were there as well. it was borderline obsessive in the redheads opinion, and she couldn’t stand that dopey grin on your face whenever you’d see her. it was like clockwork. she’d get in the elevator, click on the floor for the parking garage, and you’d squeeze in before the doors closed. she was beginning to consider taking the stairs.

she wasn’t sure how you knew when she was home, but on friday evening, she was in the middle of making dinner when a knock on the door caused her to knock over an open bottle of water. “shit! fuck— i’m comin’!” she yells out frustratedly as she makes her way to the front door. when she opens it, there you are with that stupid smile on your face. this time you’re holding a plate with a large slice of sweet bread on it, with icing slathered on top. it was saran wrapped cutely on the white plate.

“pumpkin cinnamon bread, with cream cheese icing.” your voice is light, and you’re gazing up at her with these big innocent eyes; just begging for her approval. there’s hopefulness laced into your orbs, and not even melissa has the heart to turn this away. “pumpkin in april… thanks kid.” she mutters, and if she thought your smile was big before… it seems to illuminate with her backhanded compliment. maybe it was the fact that one of her favorite students made her a painting in art class, and she was feeling particularly mushy today.

“you like pasta?” she asks you blandly, still sounding indifferent about your sudden intrusion on her dinner making. you nod eagerly, “yup! i haven’t had it in ages though… i don’t know any good italian spots around here, and i can’t cook to save my life.” you confess sheepishly, and she nods as she turns around and disappears into the apartment. she leaves her door wide open, and you stand there, clearly confused. “well, what ‘re you waiting for? come in, dinners almost ready.” she commands, causing your eyes to widen in shock.

“unless you got somewhere else to be tonight?” she asks, looking over her shoulder to see how shocked you look. you shake your head quickly, “nope! it was just gonna be me and the takeout guy tonight.” you half joke, as you walk in, shutting the door behind you. you go quiet as you stand behind the counter, and melissa wipes up the water she had spilled earlier. she turns her head to see you glancing around the room, clearly nervous. it’s the quietest she’s ever heard you. “what? place not what you expected?” she asks, and your eyes lock with hers.

“i just… i didn’t think i’d get to see the inside of your place before i got to know your name.” you admit, and melissa can feel an uncontrollable smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “my names melissa.” she confesses, and your eyes go all soft at the revelation. “melissa… huh. that’s a pretty name. it suits you.” you blurt aloud, and she turns away to check on the pasta, hiding the blush that coats her cheeks.

melissa learns quite a bit about you after that. you’re twenty-four, you had lived in the west coast all your life, and you spent your teenage years stuck taking care of your grandma and siblings. the more melissa discovers about you, the harder it is for her to hate you. your kindness isn’t fake or falsified like most of the people around here; you speak every word with genuineness and sincerity. a routine seems to progress between the two of you; every friday evening you knock on her door with some new platter of sweets, and melissa proceeds to invite you in for dinner.

every friday turns into every other day, and before she knows it, you two are having dinner together every night. the redhead went from hating you, to enjoying your presence more than anyone else’s. at first, melissa assumed she simply enjoyed your company because she was lonely. but after a few months of you, she quickly realized what the little flutter in her belly meant whenever she’d see you. melissa’s head would grow fuzzy whenever you complimented her, and she turned into a blushing mess. not to mention how she couldn’t necessarily hide how happy she was to see you now.

she’d pick out a bottle of wine, and makes different recipes she thinks you’d like. she finds herself humming along to old italian songs as she cooks, waiting for the gentle knocks on her door.

tonight you brought her new york cheesecake with raspberry filling on top. you greet her as you push past her, placing the cake onto her counter. “i know, cheesecake is so bad for our health, but i had a terrible day.” you tell her, and you begin to ramble about how awful your boss is. though, all melissa can do is take in how absolutely beautiful you are. the way your hair falls, and moves as you talk with the emotions you wear on your face. when you don’t get a response from melissa for awhile, you look over and see her leaning against the door, staring at you with a peculiar expression.

“what? what’s wrong?” you question, she offers you a gentle shake of her head. “you’re really beautiful, you know that?” she blurts out, her entire demeanor changing as soon as she realizes what she just said. her eyes go wide as she stands up straight, instead of looking appalled or surprised, the blood rises to your face. a shy grin plasters itself onto your face, as you push your hair behind your ears before gazing at her like some shy schoolgirl. “you’re calling me beautiful? have you seen yourself?” you ask her, and that’s the moment that seems to solidify it for melissa.

the way her heartbeat picks up as the words leave your lips, and something in the pit of her stomach bursts, as if a million cocoons hatched into butterflies inside of her. she began to feel something she hasn’t felt since before she married joe. she couldn’t believe some western twenty something year old kid was making her feel this way.

you appear to be able to read melissa like an open book. she doesn’t have to tell you how she’s feeling for you to know. you’re the only person who’s ever been able to figure her out, and it’s scary. melissa also wasn’t an idiot. she could tell judging by the gleam of adoration in your eyes, you were growing quite the crush on her. sometimes she wonders why. you’re in your twenties, you’re hot, and you know how to bake a mean banana cream pie… melissa also sees how the doorman and a variety of other men ogle you in the mornings. you could have anyone you want, yet you spend your evenings eating melissa’s various italian recipes.

however, the redhead is very closed off. especially romantically. after joe, she’s dated around but nobody’s ever gotten a second date. she hasn’t been so intimate with someone in so long, even before her divorce, the marriage was falling apart. dinner every night was not an option for her and joe; he always came home late, and by the time he arrived his plate of leftovers were in the microwave. even when he’d be home while she was cooking, he’d eat in the living room in front of the tv. you were so enthralled by melissa, sometimes you could hardly focus on the food with how much attention you paid her.

she tries to hide the way she revels in your attention, and how the glimmer in your eyes directed towards her causes those stupid butterflies inside of her to repopulate. “you do not actually have random baseball bats around your apartment…” you trail off one evening, as you’re both sitting on melissa’s comfortable couch. there’s a glass of wine in each of your hands; you’re both on your second glass, and you’re sure it’s the expensive wine melissa keeps locked away. it makes you feel special when she puts so much thought into the dinners you two share. they mean something to you, and you’re positive they mean something to her as well.

“i do. they’re hidden around.” she explains, taking a sip of her wine. you let out a genuine giggle; your wide eyed gaze is pouring right into her, nobody’s ever looked at her with such reverence. something then flickers in her eyes as she remembers something; “speaking of… i’ve been meaning to give you one. ya look like you can’t swing for shit, but it’s better than ya having nothing to defend yourself with.” melissa rambles as she stands up, disappearing into her bedroom. your brows knit together in slight confusion as you wait for her to return.

when she does, she has a medium sized wooden bat. it was dark wood and looked brand new. “wait, you were serious?” you ask, letting out a breathless little chuckle. “you live on a questionable part of town, by yourself, y/n. you barely even forget to lock your door when you come over.” she scolds, sounding undoubtedly upset by the fact. your baffled features quickly morph into a soft expression, “you worried about me, lissa?” you tauntingly ask, and she lets out this vexed huff, waving the wooden bat closer to you.

“just take the damn thing and keep it by your bed.” she commands, while you gladly accept the strange but thoughtful gift. “it’ll make you feel safer.” she adds, her neck burning as you stare at her with a vulnerable look on your face. “okay. but i’ll have you know i’ve never felt safer than knowing my tough, kick ass neighbor is right across the hall.” you assure her, and something inside of melissa is slipping; whether it’s her resolve or the walls she so desperately tries to keep up. “thanks for worrying about me though. i worry about you too.” you clarify, and melissa would normally scoff at a comment like that.

she’d shake her head and demand for you to know she can take care of herself… but she can’t. as you stare into her eyes with the sole intent of wanting her to understand how much she means to you, melissa finds herself taking a seat beside you again, deciding to let the comment slide. maybe she enjoyed knowing someone as sweet as you cared about her. it’s been so long since anyone’s cared for her in this way; it was sort of foreign to her by now. yet it was also comforting.

though melissa often found herself thinking about what things would be like when you finally met somebody. if you’d opt to spending your evenings with your new girlfriend or boyfriend… if you’d look at them with the same gaze you’d look at her with. some evenings she’d catch herself staring at you, and she’d think of being in the shoes of some younger woman… someone who can give you the start at life that you need. you’re in your early twenties, and there’s no way you’d ever want someone old and used up like melissa.

so naturally, the night you invite melissa to your place for dinner instead of just heading to hers… she feels an odd bundle of nerves knotting up in her stomach. she changes after work; which is something she never does. she puts on that sundress she likes to wear when she’s feeling good about herself. as soon as you open the door, your eyes nearly bug out of your head. you have a grease stain on your cheek, she assumes it’s some kind of cooking oil. the apron you’re wearing is hiding the tight top and jeans you’re wearing underneath, but melissa thinks you’ve never looked more cute.

“you’re early! i— i’m still making dinner, please sit down.” you urge her, and melissa offers you that soft smile that seems to only be reserved for you these days. she looks around your place; taking in the pictures on the walls, and the flatscreen that’s too big in melissa’s opinion. she barely watches tv, and when she does it’s in bed on her phone. “yeah, i left a little early because ava hired some of the teachers some new assistants.” she tells you, and you cock a brow, flashing her an amused grin. “an assistant? how do you like that?” you question curiously, knowing how difficult it was for the redhead to warm up to new people.

she snorts, “the kids fine. she’s a little younger than you. can’t understand a word she says but the kids like her.” she murmurs, shrugging, before she looks over at you. you’re stirring whatever’s in the pot, and she quirks a brow. “you actually might like her.” melissa’s comment rolls off your back easily, you don’t seem to notice the difference in her tone. you laugh lightly, “i doubt that. i’ve never gotten along with girls that well. guys either.” you confess, and melissa snorts. “oh yeah, sure, the girl who makes conversation with the mailman doesn’t have any friends. who do you think you’re lying to here, kid?” she questions, and you frown, rolling your eyes. “i’m not a kid. and just because i know how to make conversation with people, doesn’t mean i have a lot of friends.” your voice is light, and lacks any sort of defense or malice.

melissa sort of envies how easy it is for you to talk about things. “i mean, even in high school i had like three friends. they all still live back home, and we talk from time to time but it’s not like we can just hang out every weekend, you know?” you begin to ramble as you stir the searing food in the pan. “you’re the only person who i hang out with, and i’m lucky you even wanna hang out with me.” you add half jokingly, and you turn to see an inscrutable expression etched onto the older woman’s face.

“anyone would wanna hang out with you… i mean one day you’re gonna find someone who can’t stay away from you.” melissa says in an abnormally gentle way, there’s a hint of sadness in her voice and you cock a brow at the redhead. “does it count if i’ve already found someone i can’t stay away from? i’m literally making beef stroganoff for her, and i almost burned down the kitchen twice just to impress her.” you admit, and on cue whatever is in the pan begins smoking.

melissa’s eyes widen as a blush coats her beautiful face. she rushes over to your side, “jesus, y/n! why didn’t you tell me you wanted beef stroganoff? i could make this in my sleep!” she begins to shoo you away, and you frown, shaking your head stubbornly. “because you always make dinner; i wanted to cook for you.” your fervent voice causes melissa’s heart to lurch in her chest. “i don’t just cook for just anybody, yanno’? i cook for you because i like ya, and don’t know how else to show it. i’m not all sweet like you.” she clarifies, and your heartbeat quickens as her words sink in.

she’s trying her hardest to avoid your eyes, and you can’t help the uncontrollable blush on your cheeks. “you like me?” you ask her, and she rolls her eyes. “like it wasn’t obvious when i cooked mac n cheese as a main dish. seriously, kid, your taste buds are strange.” she mutters, and you bite your lip, trying to contain the grin on your face. “yeah, well, as strange as my palette is, you like me.” you taunt her, and notice the way her focused stirring falters ever so slightly. she scoffs, forcing an exasperated expression on her face.

“don’t make me take it back.” she murmurs, and you can’t seem to stop grinning at her like an idiot.

the seasons change and so do things between you and melissa. it isn’t a significant enough change for you to mention it, but it is enough for you to feel the difference. melissa is so soft, and carefree around you now. before she was so tough and prickly; she’s still a bit prickly but you don’t mind getting poked in order to see her true self every now and then. you two appear to be doing this slow dance around the obvious feelings you have for one another.

melissa is way more reluctant than you are. she hates the way her mind works, but it’s not like she can control it. usually how cute and thoughtful you are washes away any doubts she has about herself, except for one day she runs out parsley, and has to run to the store. of course you offer to come along with her, pulling at the sleeves of your sweater and excitedly trotting by her side.

“you sure you don’t need anything else from here? you’re running out of juice.” you remind her and she mentally scolds herself. “you’re right! thanks hun.” she sweetly thanks you, making your face hot as she reaches for the orange juice. you both make your way to the checkout line, and you aimlessly look around at the chocolates. “y/n! hey!” a familiar voice causes you and melissa to turn around. you eyebrows rises slightly as you run into a woman who you went on a few dates with when you first moved here.

“tracy! hey!” you greet her, and she hugs you before you can even think. melissa is watching the interaction like a hawk, and as soon as the raven haired girl hugs you, there’s a burning sensation of pure rage deep rooted in her belly. her eyes narrow as “tracy” pulls away from you, and looks at you as if she wants to ravish you in the supermarket. “you never called me again! i had a lot of fun mini-golfing with you.” she says, and you sheepishly rub the back of your neck, clearly racking your brain for a flimsy excuse.

that’s when realization hits melissa; you dated this woman! the thought alone nearly makes her scoff. this was your type? mid-twenties, soft skin, hippie wannabe? “i just got really busy adjusting to living here and all that… but how are you?” you try to steer the subject away from the awkward final date you hated. it wasn’t fun for you; you had to force yourself to be some cool girl you clearly weren’t. “i’m good! how are you? what are you up to tonight?” she asks hopefully, and you smile.

“i’m good as well. this is melissa, we’re here picking up some parsley for dinner tonight.” you introduce the redhead, and tracy’s demeanor immediately shifts as she assumes the older woman is your girlfriend. “oh. hi, i’m tracy.” she introduces herself to the grade school teacher, holding out her hand for the second grade teacher to shake. melissa only nods curtly in in tracy’s direction, “hey.” she flatly responds. and you notice the tension in the air right away. “well, it was nice seeing you again, tracy.” you say suggestively, and tracy nods.

“yeah, you too. you should call me sometime.” she squeezes your arm before she leaves, and melissa looks as though she wants to murder you with her eyes. “next.” the checkout clerk calls out, snapping the redhead out of her thoughts. she places the orange juice and parsley down much harder than she intended; it even causes the middle-aged man to jump slightly. “rough day?” he questions with a goofy grin, trying to lighten the mood. melissa shoots daggers at him with her eyes, causing his smile to fall as he clears his throat.

he scans the items quickly, “that’ll be $8.97.” he states; not a single slick remark left in him. melissa inserts her card, finishing the transaction without another word. she storms out of the supermarket with you in tow, trying to catch up to her as you follow her to her car. when you’re both strapped in, the car starts and the ride is quiet for the first minute and a half. you hate awkward silences, especially with her. “i honestly forgot i even tried dating when i first moved here.” you pipe up.

“well maybe now you can give her a call, since you’re no longer busy and adjusting.” she mocks your lame excuse from a few minutes ago, and you frown. “i didn’t— the reason i didn’t call her back wasn’t because i was adjusting—“ you try to explain yourself, but melissa cuts you off. “you don’t have to explain yourself to me. we’re friends, i don’t care who you go on lousy dates with.” her voice is harsh, and it’s a tone you recognize all too well. it’s the same one she uses when she used to have her walls up high, refusing to let you get even a glimpse into her mind.

she doesn’t allow you to tell her it was solely because you didn’t want to call tracy again. the dates were terrible; the entire time you were just pretending to be someone you’re not. you only forced yourself to go because you had been living here for a month, and hadn’t made a single friend. melissa stubbornly cooks dinner, and the conversation through the night is short. you aren’t used to it, and it hurts. but you convince yourself tomorrow she’ll be ready to talk about it.

but the next morning, melissa must’ve left for work earlier than usual because you don’t see her in the elevator. you text her to have a good day, but never get a response. throughout the day you can’t help but think about her, and you wonder why she became so closed off after finding out about your meaningless dates with tracy. you understood she might’ve been a little jealous; sometimes you got jealous whenever she spoke about joe. but she seemed so genuinely upset, all you wanted to do was figure out what was going through her head.

you decide to make her some pumpkin carrot cake before heading to her apartment for dinner. it’s nearly six when you’re finished, and you place it in a tupperware nicely for her. you’re practicing in your head what you want to say to her tonight, and how you should assess the situation. by the time you knock on her door you have a simple smile on your face, and the door swings open, the sight nearly causing your eyes to bug out of their sockets.

melissa was wearing a tight black dress that hugged her body perfectly, and enhanced every single curve. the exposed cleavage caused you to force your eyes on hers in order not to sneak a longer peak. your hopeful smile falls a bit when you notice the hard expression on her face. before she can even ask you anything, you begin blabbering like you usually do. “look, i know you said we’re just friends, but there’s more to us than just that… we both know it. we may not have ever talked about it or what it means, but i haven’t dated anyone since this started…” you ramble, and melissa’s eyes soften for a split second, her hard facade slipping as a wave of panic washes over her.

“y/n—“ she tries, but the voice behind her is interrupting, causing your heart to fall right into your stomach. “everything okay, red?” a deep, unfamiliar voice asks, causing you to freeze. melissa suddenly has this unrecognizable expression of regret on her face. “y-yeah everything’s fine, gar.” she says back, “gary? as in the vending machine guy who’s been flirting with you all year, gary?” you ask in disbelief, and a slight bit of anger is mixed into your voice. she had been so upset about you going on a few dates with tracy before you two were even friends, and now she was here having a romantic dinner with gary. you could even smell the type of food she made him.

“he’s been asking me all year, and i decided since it’s been awhile since i’ve been on a date, i should get back out there.” melissa says the words she’s practiced saying to you in her head. she knew you’d come over today, you always do. she knew you’d see her with gary, and maybe she wanted that. she wanted you to feel how she felt when she saw you and tracy. though as you stare up at her with this kicked puppy-dog expression, she knows you aren’t feeling what she was feeling yesterday. you’re just straight up hurt and it’s written all over your face.

you glance down at the stupid dessert you spent all afternoon perfecting. “well, this is for you, because i wanted to apologize for upsetting you. i can see now you weren’t upset at all.” you have to force yourself to speak, and you surprisingly hold it together as you shove the tupperware in melissa’s hands. you turn to walk back into your apartment, and a wave of regret flashes over the redhead. melissa reaches out for you, “y/n, wait—“ a firm but soft hand wraps around your wrist, but you pull it away from her as you spin around and flash her a dejected look. the sight breaks her heart in two.

“it’s fine. you were right; we’re friends. you don’t have to explain yourself to me. i don’t care who you go on dates with.” you throw the words back in her face, and there’s a flicker of emotions on her face but you turn away and disappear into your apartment. melissa stands there staring at your door; she looks down at the cake in her hands and she hates how tight her chest gets. it’s like her heart might pop in her chest. she doesn’t feel the way she thought she would, and suddenly she mentally curses herself for thinking it’d feel good to hurt you.

melissa is off her game at work the next day. she texts you, and for the first time since you two became friends, you’re the one who doesn’t reply. the redhead realizes she made a mistake. instead of talking about her insecurities or how hurt she was when she saw you and tracy, she ended up jumping the gun and going out with the safest option. gary.

in truth she did like gary; maybe not enough to want to date him, but she found him moderately attractive. she also thought he was pretty funny, and he appears to like her a lot. though none of that was anything compared to what she felt for you. melissa could not stop thinking about you and that hurt face of yours all day. she even decides to cook your favorite food for dinner.

but when six-thirty rolls around, and you still haven’t knocked on her door, there’s a sinking sensation in her stomach. melissa huffs as she looks at the dinner she prepared, and thought of it going to waste angered her. or maybe it was the thought of you just standing her up, even though it’s not like she personally invited you tonight. maybe you think she’s with gary again.

usually melissa is very stubborn, and she would never consider going across the hall and begging you… but she can’t get you out of her damn head. so she takes her ass straight to your door, not even bothering to close hers. she knocks on your door vigorously, not stopping once until the door swings open to reveal you. your hair is damp, and you’re in an old oversized tee shirt; the printing was faded but the hem reached just below your thighs. melissa had to refrain herself from gazing down at your smooth legs.

“i cooked dinner and you’re ready for bed, what gives?” she questions, hating how she sounds like a petulant child. you look a bit surprised to see her, “don’t you have a date with gary and his mustache?” you ask a bit bitterly, and melissa scowls. “it was just dinner, y/n.” the redhead says, and you gaze up into her eyes. “dinner like we have?” you ask, and she huffs in response. “that’s different and you know it! you said it yourself yesterday, there’s more to us than just that.” she reminds you.

“i was clearly wrong.” you sound abnormally stubborn, and melissa sighs in frustration. “i’m not going to see gary again, kid. so just come on over and sit down for dinner.” she commands, and you shake your head defiantly.

“no.” you retort, and she raises a brow, obviously shocked by the disobedience. “no?” she asks you in the warning tone she uses whenever one of her students is testing her. “that’s right, i’m saying no. ever since this started, i’ve always done what you say. i go at your pace, i wake up earlier just to see you, i don’t bake anything with chocolate because you hate chocolate. did you know it’s my favorite? i do whatever you ask to satisfy you. i put my feelings to the side, just to make sure yours are valid. all for my efforts to be outweighed by a guy who restocks the gushers in the vending machine.” you stress, sounding reasonably upset.

“why did you even get so upset about tracy the other day if you were planning on going out with gary? i don’t understand you.” you add, and the dam melissa built to keep her emotions in abruptly bursts. “exactly! you don’t understand me! you’re this young kid who has her whole life to look forward to. this is just a passing moment in your life; this apartment, this city, our dinners, me.” her voice lowers, “you got your whole life ahead of ya, you shouldn’t waste it tryin’ ta’ understand me. you should be dating girls like tracy who are equipped with all sorts of emotions, and able to give you what you need.” she adds, and you frown as she pours her heart out to you. she appears to be full of regret, and vulnerability.

“and what exactly do i need, lissa?” you can’t help but ask, and she runs her fingers through her soft red locks. “you need someone who’ll take care of ya, and show ya how much they care about you. you need someone who isn’t old and afraid of what everyone else thinks. maybe someone who wouldn’t completely embarrass the shit out of ya whenever you decide to take them back to your hometown…” she trails off, now she’s avoiding your eyes and the abnormal, unconfident demeanor causes you to frown. you practically worship the ground melissa walks on; even if she didn’t know it, you were completely enamored by her. it frustrates you to know she doesn’t put herself on a similar pedestal.

“you are the most beautiful woman i’ve ever laid eyes on. when i met you, i felt this instant pull that i had never felt before. god, i don’t think i’ve ever seen anyone as pretty as you, and it makes me so mad that you don’t think of yourself that way. i love you, you know? everything about you; the crinkles by your eyes whenever you smile, the way you curse when you’re angry, your southern philly accent… that irritated frown on your face whenever you’re upset.” you begin to get lost in your words, the space between you both getting smaller and unnoticed. her heart palpitates as you rave on and on about her with this genuine expression of stringent affection.

“you have all these amazing qualities, and you sell yourself short. you’re the best freakin’ cook in the world; the best and sexiest teacher in the world; you’re tough as nails; you have this energy that follows you, it’s fierce and warm. just like you. and as for your age, it’s hard for me too…” the last comment makes her eyes harden, and you’re quick to add, “… but it’s not because i think you’re old, mel. it’s because sometimes i feel like you don’t think of me as your equal. you just think of me as this young kid who’s a burden. but i know who i am, and what i want. i keep a memory of everything you do in the back of my head, and the space in my mind you take up is only getting bigger and bigger. you’re it for me, i’m positive, because how can i see anyone else when you’re engraved in my mind and heart?” you ask her, pouring your whole heart out to her.

your eyes widen when you see the tears threatening to fall from her delicate green eyes. “that’s— that’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me… you— that was more romantic than the vows at my wedding…” melissa’s voice cracks and she tries to put on that stony facade, but it doesn’t work. your words seemed to have broken one of the steel walls she puts up; it’s crumbled into millions of pieces and left her exposed in front of you. her eyes are unguarded and her expression is fragile. she feels so small.

“you can’t just say things like that!” she snaps, her voice higher than usual. you shake your head, “why not? you deserve to hear more good things about yourself, and i can go on all night.” you sheepishly admit, and melissa’s eyes soften when they meet yours. “you really feel that way about me? even though i’m probably older than your mom?” she half jokes, but the self-doubt is leaking through her tone. “you are definitely way hotter than my mother.” you mutter, and melissa gasps but can’t manage to fight to the grin that’s tugging at her lips.

“gee kid, you feel all of that for me and have never even tried ta’ kiss me? what gives?” you can hear the genuine curiosity behind the playful question, and your cheeks turn an embarrassing shade of pink. “i didn’t… i didn’t think you wanted me. i mean, yesterday when i saw you with hulk hogan—“ she cuts in, “gary.” she corrects and you scowl cutely, “whatever. when i saw you with him it kind of reminded me you’re a woman who needs someone to take care of you and i… i’m just a kid.” you look down at your sock covered feet, and before you can even think about anything else, melissa is cupping your face and making you face her.

her lips are on yours in an instant, and the butterflies in your belly begin to repopulate one by one. she pulls away before you can think twice, “you’re not just a kid to me. you’re a good person, y/n. i’m sorry i was so immature about everything.” she sounds ashamed, but the sincerity in her voice makes your heart speed up. your cheeks burn and maybe the kiss sweetened you up a bit. “it’s okay, lissa. i understand… next time just talk to me.” you assure her and she smirks. “or i can just kiss ya again and see where that gets me.” she half jokes, making you grin.

“or that too.”

[ponderingmoonlight]

Imma be an anon cause I'm bit scared . I fell in love with the way u write.

May I get a Headcanon with nanami if you're comfortable 🥺

A hurt /comfort where NANAMI raised his voice at reader which lead reader to distance him for a long period?

You can go anything with the plot . Thank you!

Hey honey, I'm not writing headcanons atm because I'm not comfortable with, but I decided to turn this into a full on fic instead - hope you like it, let me know! ♡

Nanami Kento raising his voice at you

Pairing: Nanami Kento x reader

Word Count: 2,1k

Synopsis: He had no other choice but to scream at you in the middle of a fight, snapping at you like he never did before. It took both of you a few weeks to realize that you can't be with each other...

Warnings: Listen, I adore the gentleman Nanami fics (as you can see on my own blog lol) but it was so much fun to let this man snap as well, to let his temper show once, this is a classy hurt to comfort with some angst - enjoy!

„Don’t do it, (y/n). You’ll get yourself in serious danger. Stay behind me and let me handle this.”

You huff in sheer frustration, eyes piercing through the back of his perfect undercut. Why? Why isn’t Kento Nanami able to trust you? You are a grade 1 sorcerer just like he is, so skilful with handling your sword that even Gojo is impressed by your abilities. But despite all of that, he positioned himself in front of you instantly when that special grade curse appeared, blocking every minor attack that might come your way.

Oh, how much you love that man, how much you adore the way he cares about you deeply. It’s not a secret to anyone how you feel for each other, how your eyes light up when he enters the room, how his gaze instantly softens for only you.

“I’m a big girl, I can handle this myself.”

But this is too much. Damn, you’ve been a jujutsu sorcerer as long as he is, constantly training to get better and better. It’s not fair to lock you out of this fight when your-

“Stop contradicting me all the time!”

The sharp tone in his usual calm voice makes you flinch, body moving backwards automatically when he turns around. His eyes are cold, so cold that your blood seems to freeze in your veins. You’ve never seen him like this, especially not when it comes to you. That sweet and tender man with a face that doesn’t show any emotion most of the time now looks down at you with venom spitting from his orbs, arms so tight that his veins look like they’ll burst any minute.

“This is too big for you. Now do me a favour and stay.in.line.”

“But I’m-“

“ENOUGH!”

“Kento!”

“You are acting like a stupid child! Now do what I said!”

You are lost at words, eyes staring into his furious ones until he turns around and hunts after the blue-haired curse named Mahito again.

A wave of agony washes over you before you can stop it, body feeling numb. It’s ridiculous to be hurt about his words, surely he didn’t mean to raise his voice at you, but still…

You swallow hard. But still it fucking hurts. Since you’ve known him, Kento never snapped at you. Not once, not in a million lifetimes. He was always tender when expressing his opinion just like you are. Yes, there were never heated arguments, cruel words or loud voices from any of you. But he just broke that unsaid rule.

He really hit you where it hurts.

-back at jujutsu high-

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

Your fingers ruffle through the pink hair in front of you gently, eyes scanning over Yuji’s bruised body. What an impressive boy he is. How did he manage to break through this sphere, to almost end that curse? For a new jujutsu sorcerer, he is remarkably skilled - and a true sweetheart on top.

“I’m doing fine, don’t worry about me, (y/n)-san. How are you feeling? You seem so…I don’t know, different I guess. Are you alright?”

You force a small smile onto your shaky lips. Is it selfish that you can’t forget the way Kento barked at you, that he basically told you you are too weak for this fight? You wish you were better than that, strong enough to outstand your self-seeking feelings and visit him in the hospital wing.

But you simply can’t. Not right now. Not when his stinging voice is still so present in your mind.

“Don’t worry about me, okay?”

“Hey, how you’re doing, sweet cheeks? Nanami is asking for you, are you free?”

You swallow away the big lump forming in your throat, eyes not daring to look up at her.

“Actually, I still have to tell Gojo what happened. Thank him for his invitation, I have to keep going.”

You need to get out of here as fast as possible, away from the stinging gaze of Shoko who knows exactly something’s up, who eyes you up and down. As if in trance you storm out of the hospital wing, straight into the burning hot sunlight, heart pumping so hard against your ribcage that you feel like fainting any possible minute.

“ENOUGH!”

His voice still echoes through your head, makes you feel like a child again. Kento never looked at you this coldly, without any emotion in his usual so soft orbs. What on earth did you do to upset him like this? After all, you were on countless missions together before, defeated multiple grade 1 curses side by side. What was different this time? Was it Yuji, the bad weather? Why did he decide to scream at you like this?

“What are you doin’ here? I was already on my way to look after you in the hospital wing. Aren’t ya supposed to be by Nanami’s side?”

Your heart stops for a minute. Fuck, Gojo Satoru and his cheeky smile are definitely the last thing you need right now. If he only knew how much his words make your heart sting in agony, how much strength it costs you to act like nothing happened. You know how ridiculous it must be, avoiding the love of your life over some random words and a harsh tone.

But you can’t help it.

“I was on my way to report about the mission”, you explain briefly.

“Is there something you need to tell me? C’mon, you can’t even look at me (y/n).”

Your glossy eyes dart towards Gojo. God, how pathetic you feel. Why aren’t you able to just get over it and move on? Why are you making things so hard for both you and Kento, standing here on the brink of tears instead of being by his side?

“I can’t have it right now, Gojo. Just leave me alone.”

But despite the way your heart aches for him, you continue walking towards your dorm. That stone cold look on his face, the way he clenched his fists.

“This is too big for you.”

“You are acting like a stupid child.”

You shake your head violently. No, you aren’t able to simply forgive and forget what you saw that mission. This man wasn’t the Kento Nanami you know and love, not the man you thought he was. What if it was all a lie? What if this is what he really sees in you? A weakling, a dumb child.

Breathe in, breathe out, don’t lose your composure.

“I need some time for myself…”

-a few weeks later-

Kento hates it with every fiber of his being. Waking up in the morning, your face still present in his sleep-drunken mind until reality hits him. Since he lashed out, you didn’t talk more than a few necessary sentences with him. And even though you don’t seem to be cold and distant, everything just changed.

Oh, if he could turn back time, if he was able to take back all those things he said to you. He should have stopped when you flinched backwards, should have stopped when your eyes turned glossy. But he knew your life was in serious danger, that Mahito is no curse to be messed with. The decision between hurting your feelings or watching you die…

At least you’re safe. At least Mahito was too focused on finishing him to even involve you into his sphere. This should be everything he cares about, it’s only naturally that you are hurt. But still…What would he do to hold you again, what would he do for you to smile at him as brightly as you did back then. He misses you with his whole heart.

“You could just try talking to her, y’know? I bet (y/n) might understand”, Gojo tries to cheer him up, legs laying stretched out on the table between them.

“I don’t want to force myself onto her. After all, I deserve her anger and disappointment.”

And oh, it was written on your face. The way your trembling lips parted, how your eyes widened just the slightest when his words hit you like a train.

“C’mon, don’t be so hard on yourself-“

“I hurt her. And I will never forgive myself for doing that”, he interrupts the white-haired man determined.

“Well, could you forgive yourself if she got killed?”

Nanami lets out his breath, simply stares into the distance. Of course Gojo is right. Damn, he doesn’t regret his decision. But still…

It hurts.

“Sorry. Do you have a minute to…talk?”

His heart stops beating. There you stand, nervously picking on your nails while you look at him. God, he always looks so fine. Why on earth does he have to look so fine? No, you have to focus. After all, you are here to talk things out. These last weeks were nothing but torture for you, your heart bleeding waterfalls every time you saw him. Oh, you never knew you were able to crave someone else this badly.

But there you are, standing in the door like an idiot.

“You sure can! I’m doing…some other stuff I guess. See ya!”

Within the blink of an eye, Gojo is gone in the wind and leaves you alone with him.

“You don’t have to stand there. Please, sit down.”

That gentle tone you know you well, his inviting voice that makes your stomach drop from time to time. With wobbly legs, you cross the room to sit opposite to him on the still warm chair of Gojo.

What are you supposed to say? How are you supposed to act? Your mind goes blank, forgets every little piece of conversation you trained these last days. Fuck, why are you even here? Maybe you should just leave-

He grabs your hand.

Nanami Kento grabs your hand.

“Let me apologize for the things I said to you back then. It was in no way right to snap at you like that. But when I saw what Mahito is able to do, when I realized he is far better than all the other special grade courses I ever encountered…(y/n), it might sound selfish, but all I could think about was saving you.”

You stare at him in utter disbelief, heart beating out of your chest. Did he…did he really say that?

“You…wanted to save me…”

“You are a skilled jujutsu sorcerer, probably better than me. But if it wasn’t for Yuji, I would be dead by now. To think that you might die…I couldn’t take it, (y/n). You are everything to me.”

“Everything…”

“This might be the wrong moment, the worst timing for saying such things. But I love you, (y/n). I loved you with all my heart for ages, love you for everything you are. Even though you aren’t able to forgive me what I said, even though you don’t want to see me again…(y/n), I love you.”

The countless nights you kept yourself awake pondering about how he feels for you, the countless nights his words echoed through your heart. The countless nights you thought you interpreted his affection wrong, that he doesn’t feel the same.

Vanished into thin air.

Nothing but a fade whisper in the darkness.

“These last weeks you were all I could think about. I thought you might not feel the same, that you might not be the person I thought you were-“

He squeezes your hands firmly, the troubled ocean of his eyes getting lost in yours.

“I’m not able to put my feelings into words the way you deserve it, (y/n). But I know for sure that I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

You snap. All these nights without him, the grief you were put through, his gorgeous face close enough to touch while you couldn’t allow yourself to. With a swift motion you crawl over the table that divides the two of you, closing the distance of these past weeks with a kiss.

A kiss that contains all the anger, the disappointment and the affection you hold for him. That gorgeous man who swept you off your feet. That gorgeous man who showed a side you’ve never seen before, who risked his own life in order to save yours.

Nanami Kento.

“God, I love you (y/n). I love you so much”, he mutters against your lips, hands pressing you firmly against his warm body.

“I don’t want to let go again.”

He smiles against your mouth, eyes gleaming like the sun itself.

“Then don’t”.

Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299 @busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru

[etherealyuri]

❝ PICK A PILE ❞

18+

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡˚♡

•Bridgerton edition

Choose which Bridgerton pair you feel most connected to on screen! That will be your pile!:)

୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ

Pile one ‹𝟹

For those who chose this first pile I feel like you and your partner could be very competitive with one another. It’s always about who’s gonna win this or who’s gonna win that but even when the both of you are competitive to one another..you both share a similar personality of how heated the both of you get for one another. There’s a strong sense of desire here deep love that involves a lot of love making and being in between the sheets you two might be very passionate when it comes to fighting and making love. Things are always spicy in your relationship and you’re always trying to have fun with your partner and spice it up a bit because you guys always try to have an interesting relationship. This person can still be seen as romantic & treats you as such as well.

Pile two ‹𝟹

For pile two you did not expect romance with the person that you’re currently with right now maybe because the two of you might’ve been in different paths in your life and the both of you might’ve not been compatible at first but maybe the two of you started to grow feelings with time for each other and through that this person loves to give you their love. They love to show you what they can do in bed and outside of it. Probably someone who would like to wine and dine you. They would be the type to serenade you and cook you dinner first, even sing to you before getting down to the deed. Definitely a romantic type..and would try to give you their all..when it comes to love and sexual things.

Pile three ‹𝟹

For pile three I feel like with your partner you can always be yourself around them even if your the type who usually feels insecure this person may make you feel seen and secure with yourself and you might feel extremely confident around this person because they build your self esteem up and is always keeping you laughing and smiling making sure that you have a good time with them. They are also very reliable and can always be there for you when you need them. They are someone who definitely has opinions about not giving a fuck what anyone thinks. They can be subtle about their flirting but still come off as charming which really is the one thing you find attractive. You may also feel insecure and think that you are not attractive but they can see your beauty with everything you do not just in your looks and they always compliment you. They are probably the type to wake you up in bed with exciting news or just to show you their undesirable love. They are also probably always kissing you and can’t keep their hands off of you because of how much they love you. They always tell you they love you or want to hear it because they always love and miss you and can’t handle going without you for very long.

[multifariousqueer]

omg omg omg can you write smth ab e!42 miles being with a girl who’s super affectionate and girly. he’s like okokok and she’s like lalalala you know?? and one day they get into an argument and it looks like she’s gonna leave but he handles it?

tyilykisses🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Ofc Love!!!!

A/n: AHHHH keep requesting and lmk what else I should do

Warnings: Miles being a nonchalant ngga, fluff, angst, possessiveness

You lived a pretty good life. Your parent(s) were active in your life, you had a wonderful boyfriend that would burn the universe to the ground for you, and you got whatever you wanted. Miles kept his job pretty under wraps so you didn’t know what he did, all you knew was that he was buying the newest miu miu jacket and he funded your bath and body works addiction. Everyone knew you loved Miles but they questioned whether or not he actually loved you.

It was no secret that Miles wasn’t as affectionate as you; everyone around you noticed it, your parent(s), your friends and even other family members mentioned it to you:

“You could do so much better, y/n"

“I mean, it seems like he doesn’t even want to date you fr” your cousin remarked

“Yeah are you holding him against his will?” Your aunt chimed in

“I am not!!! He’s just like that” you defended

You were very open with your affection; kissing, hugging and cuddling him a lot. Miles on the other hand, showed his love differently by buying you stuff and spending time with you. He was often very cold and closed off towards other people and they assumed it was that way for you but it wasn’t. Miles was affectionate but he didn’t show it at all for fear of people using you as a weapon against him.

When you got to your room, you felt yourself tear up. I mean sure, miles was nonchalant but that didn’t mean he didn’t love you. Plus Miles would tell you if he didn’t want you, right?

You couldn’t stand with the idea that Miles was doing this out of pity and not out genuine love for you so you texted Miles:

You: Hey can we talk?

seen

this didn’t help the aching in your chest so you tried to fall asleep and forget about it but it haunted your dreams that night. Usually, your dreams are pretty calm but in this one, you were running from Miles and when he caught up to you, he said:

“I DON'T LOVE YOU, Y/N. WHY CAN’T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT??? I wish it could’ve been different” Miles pulled out what looked like a claw but before anything could happen, you woke yourself up.

You woke up in a cold sweat and saw a message from Miles:

3:02 AM

Miles: what’s up, Mami?

4:45 AM

You: Do you love me?

seen

Miles: What?

Miles: What happened?

You: You didn’t answer my question

Miles: yeah, why?

You: You don’t have to lie to me, yk?

Miles: Let’s talk about this tomorrow.

Miles: Did You’re family say some shit again?

You: yeah...

seen

The next day came and you met Miles after school:

“So what’d they say?” Miles questioned

“They said I’m forcing you into a relationship” you admitted, feeling defeated

“Oh give me a break, y/n. Fuck them and their opinions, they don’t know us” Miles said, rolling his eyes

“Miles, they’re my family. And honestly I can see why they believe that” you spoke up

Miles took a deep breath:

“Why? Because I’m not jumping you 24/7? That’s not who I am and you knew that when you decided to date me. As for the family thing, they just jealous of what we have.” Miles said, stoically

“It wouldn’t kill you to show me a bit of affection, Miles” you replied quickly

“no. But it could kill you” he muttered

“excuse me???” you said

“Just know that I do love you, Y/n. I’m sorry that you don’t feel the same” Miles said

“And why are you speaking so cryptically lately?? If you got something to say, speak.” You argued, a sudden burst of masculine energy and ferocity flowing through your veins

“Watch it, y/n. Stay in your place, it’s easier.” Miles said dangerously, he spoke a warning to you

You ran away and went to your room, rushing past your concerned parent as you heard them talk on the phone:

“Yeah, she’s still mad about Sunday hahaha” your parent laughed

“Yeah well we were just joking, you know how we do” The person on the other end spoke, you assumed it was your aunt.

“You know kids y/a/n(your aunts name), especially Y/n. She’s so soft and I don’t want her to get hurt.” Your parent said

“Well at the end of the day, she’ll be okay. And it will be a lesson to her, everyones first love is heartbreaking” your aunt said

“yeah, I guess. Well I gotta go. Love you” your parent departed

“Love you too” Your aunt said

You played crying in your pillow because of what they said and because of your argument. Soon, you heard a knock on the door:

“Oh Heyyyy Miles” your parent greeted

“Hi. Is Y/n here?” Miles asked

“Yeah she’s in her room” Your parent said, opening the door for him

“okay” Miles said, walking in and knocking on your door

“a thank you would’ve been nice’ your parent muttered under their breath. Miles full well heard this but he chose to ignore it because he would have a few choice words with your parent and none of them would be nice

You heard three knocks on your door.

“Y/n? Baby, let me in” he said

“Go away, Miles” you sniffled

“Mami, imma get in one way or another so you may as well just open the door.” Miles threatened

You opened the door with watery eyes and tear stained cheeks. Miles’ heart broke immediately.

“I’m sorry for not giving you the love you deserve. I know I’ll never be good enough for you and you deserve better than me. Your family is right but I need you to know that I am so in love with you, it scares me. When we aren’t together, my chest hurts; I can’t be without you, y/n. I love you so much and I’m sorry I treat you like shit. I can change, mi amor."

“Oh Miles” You hugged him as tight as you could

“I love you"

“I love you too, Mami"

[kissitbttr]

kiss it, kiss it better, baby

☆ ghost is insecure with the way he looks, but you’re there to help him realize he’s pretty ☆

pairing is with fem!reader

-

first thing you had learned about simon is how much of a closed off person he is. to the point where he shuts almost everyone out except his colleagues.

so when he first met you, he had no expectations whatsoever. sure, he thought you were breathtaking. ethereal even. the first thought when he saw you walked into the room for the first time is ‘how could God let His prettiest angel roam around free on earth? why had he not have any desire to protect you?’

your aura and smile is enough to make his knees wobbly. the sound of your laugh makes his lips twitch into a genuine smile. almost.

and he’s trying to figure out why your presence is making him turn into a puddle.

but he’s been there before. manipulated by soft and delicate looking people only for them to be a complete different person once he gets a little too attached. that reason alone was enough for him to protect his heart even more. despite your affection and your warm nature, he was still cold. harsh even.

and you understand completely. fully taking your time in getting to know him, being patient and soft, because a person could only handle so much given to his story. you heard from soap about how much he had to endured and your heart was torn.

‘poor lad… went through a lot’

is what soap had said.

so you made it your mission to make him feel at ease. become his person. his home. moving slowly but surely. this made simon baffled by your actions. why do you still hang around? why do you keep giving him affections? why can’t you just go and find someone who’s not bottling too much of emotions and trauma?

answer is simple. you love him.

and boy, was he shocked. in a good way. because it has been far too long someone had said that word to him. and not just say it but you actually prove it.

in time, simon begins to learn how to properly love again. he learns how to be someone’s someone. he yearns for you now. opening up a bit more about his past and he can’t forget the way you clutch his hands tightly around yours as he spoke. a simple act to remind him that it’s just you and him and no one else.

there’s only one thing he has been afraid of.

unmasking.

the thin scars decorating his face is one of the things he has always been so insecure about. and he’s scared that you might think of him differently after seeing. in your own opinion, he’s stupid to think that — will all due respect— encourage him day after day that you wouldn’t think so, still he doesn’t budge.

despite you being impatient on wanting to see his handsome features, you never push him. you would never do anything to make him feel uncomfortable. you adore him too much to do that.

“so i said to her… ” you emerge from the bathroom while brushing through your hair, eyes focusing on your long locks. “ ‘bitch, please you are looking at the owner’ and i kid you not… she went pale as shit” you chuckle as you tell him a about what happened at work

he hums, pretending to listen. the only thing that matters to him is how beautiful you look tonight. the way your fingers running softly through your hair, your glowing skin, your cute giggle and fuck,

how your night gown leaves little to no imagination,

“and then i took my G19 and shot her in the head”

“that’s good, baby” ghost mutters lowly, his eyes falls down to your exposed thighs. his train of thoughts were interrupted by you throwing a pillow at his direction.

“ow! hey!”

“you aren’t even listening!” a grunt of protest falls from your lips, arms crossed over your chest. “i was telling you about my day!”

he puts his hands up in defense. playful smirk across his face. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry! you just look so good standing there in your night gown, love…”

putting down your brush on the bedside table, you roll your eyes. though you can’t help but smile.

“that good, huh?” pulling the covers next to him before slipping inside. “i look that good to you?”

his large hand moves to palm your thigh. “more than good. you look absolutely divine”

your smile grows, and you can feel him smile too underneath the mask. both of your eyes locked for a while before you sit up a little bit and pat your chest.

“wanna lay?”

ghost quickly nods with a grin, scooting closer towards you before carefully laying his head. his fingers tap your leg, signaling you to put it over his thigh, you oblige.

a sigh of contentment escape from his lips once your press a kiss on top of his masked forehead. gentle fingers tracing lightly against his traps.

a question bubbles into your mind. a question you have been dreading to ask. tongue clicking against your teeth as you contemplate.

“what’s on your mind, beautiful?”

it’s like he could read your mind. you can never escape him.

shrugging you reply, “just wondering”

“wondering what?”

you inhale a sharp breath. “about when i can see this handsome face of yours.”

a smile on ghost’s face falters a bit. he knows you have been waiting for him to unmask. it has been months since you begin your journey together, and he knows that you have waited too long to see him. it isn’t fair to you, he knows that.

but again, he doesn’t want you to think differently of him.

“hm?” you place another kiss on his head when he’s not answering. “am i getting closer to getting the privilege to see that handsome face?”

the question is playful, though ghost could feel his heart beating far too loud. he believes every word you say to him, because he knows you would never lie to his face. except this one particular thing

“ ‘m not, lovie” he squeezes your thigh, fingertips grazing your soft skin.

you gasp, moving your head back a bit to the side so you can see him. “and who told you that, huh? soap? gaz?”

he’s quick to shake his head. “no one has ever seen me. i just know that i am”

“baby, that’s bullshit and you know it” you argue, bringing your other hand to rub his cheek with your thumb.

a silence falls between you two. he doesn’t know what else to response to that. it has been too long since he lets anyone see how he really looks like.

he moves his head closer to your chest, pressing his cheek against it to listen to your heartbeat better. “i just don’t want you to regret being with me, tha’s all”

if a heart could break, yours would in that moment. for all the times you’ve spent together with him, ghost is not the person that would showcase his vulnerability nor emotions. he’s tough. cold. stoic. he’d rather die than to do that.

but something in the way he speaks in a tone you’ve never heard from him before just makes you want to protect him even more. the insecurity laced in his tone is enough to do so.

“do you trust me?” your voice is gentle as ever, seeing him nod slowly. “then you know i would never do anything to make you feel small, yeah?”

he snakes his arm around your waist, nodding again. “yes”

your eyes casting down to him. “can i see my pretty baby, then?”

he feels his cheeks warm at the compliment, swallowing a small gulp as he tightens his grip a little.

simon is quiet for a moment, making you almost feel guilty for pushing him a bit. but you can’t help it. you want to see him.

you want to see your man.

and as you’re about to apologize, he speaks up,

“okay.”

a wide grin slowly makes an appearance on your face, “yeah?” he nods slowly, looking up to you with a soft smile.

“yeah” his voice is low. husky. “i trust you.”

“you do” you confirm, fingers moving gently to the bottom of his mask. for a moment you stop to see any sign of him fighting back or fidgeting. but he gives you nod, telling you to continue

with a smile, you tuck both of your thumbs underneath his balaclava. slowly you remove the material up to his nose, familiar soft pink lips that has been brushing against yours for the past few months appears. you stop for a moment and let your finger thread lightly on it, goosebumps rises against his skin as he feels you getting closer to fully unfold him.

the beat of both of your hearts are thumping. one part, you’re excited and the other he’s anxious. anxious that you’re not going to like it.

he closes his eyes the moment you completely remove the balaclava from him. hearing a gasp falls from you is making his nerves go up even higher.

‘please don’t leave me, please… please don’t’ he thinks

“simon you—you are so. fucking beautiful’

the moment he hears those words, his eyes snap open. seeing your wide eyed gaze travel from his forehead and down to his chin. both of your hands move to cup his face with jaw slightly wide open. no words are uttered.

you are truly speechless. taking the time to observe every single detail of his features. from his dirty blonde hair, big brown eyes, sharp nose, thin scars around his eyebrow and down to his cheekbone. you believe those things compliment his entire face.

he is absolutely handsome.

“my god” your voice comes out in a whisper, his breath hitches. hand still gripping tightly around your waist. “you’ve been hiding all these from me?”

a hearty chuckle rumbles from his chest, avoiding your eyes because he fears that you might see him blush.

“you don’t have to lie to me love, i—“

“fuck i ain’t!” you exclaim with a laugh, head shaking at his response. “simon you don’t realize how handsome you are, do you? and these?” finger pointing at the faded scar,

“prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

he cocks both of his eyebrows, eyes glinting full of hope. “you think so?”

“i know so, my darling.” plants a kiss on the tip of his nose. “gorgeous.” one on his eyelid. “my pretty man.” one on his cheekbone. “my baby” last one on the scar.

he pulls your body closer to him, melting at the feeling of your lips all over his face. “‘m not” he mutters

“definitely are. my handsome man” you argue, ruffling his hair. wide smile spreads across your lips as you watch your handsome man hides his face in between your breasts. “are you my pretty baby? hm?” you coo in a soft tone, not stopping to pepper him with kisses and praises.

he becomes shy, because he’s not used to this. choosing to find comfort in your chest yet he can’t help to admit how much he enjoys the affection. you feel him smile against your chest, and he’s hiding it but you can definitely sense him blushing too.

god, you love this sight. your hardcore, stone cold, military boyfriend becoming putty in your embrace. one you truly never thought you would see, and you’re enjoying every bit of it.

he does too. perhaps even more than you enjoying yourself

“me, me me. I’m your baby.” he mutters softly, eyes fluttering shut

-

i love babying a man, arrest me

[restinslices]

How do you think earth realm boys would be like around their crush?

Haven’t made moodboards for them so this is all I got rn

Johnny Cage

He would be incredibly shy 

^ That's something I would say if I lost it 

Am I suffering from lack of sleep? Yes. Have I lost the plot? No. 

Johnny is a huge flirt. He was flirting with Kitana and he hardly knew her 

And I'm pretty sure a lot of his MK1 intros is just him flirting or being a little shit 

So with that being said it’s obvious to everyone 

It’s obvious at least that he finds you attractive. The problem would be trying to figure out whether he’s just being Johnny or if he actually likes you 

Which would be difficult 

He flirts, he makes sly jokes, he says how much you should be with him and that he could totally handle you, how great you’d be together and a whole bunch of other shit

Like I said though, the main problem would be knowing if he’s joking or not 

But I think if you simply asked “dude, are you joking?” He’d say “no” immediately 

But Johnny’s eyes tend to wander so you wouldn’t be wrong for being hesitant 

It’d be dogshit if you were just his distraction for the month 

You’d know he’s serious though because he keeps going for months 

Obviously you’ve encountered other attractive people but he doesn’t seem to care about them and his eyes are always on you 

A model could walk by and he’d be too busy pulling your chair to notice 

That’s how you’d know he’s serious. It’s been months and he’s still focused on you? 

Whether or not you share those same feelings is a different story 

Kenshi Takahashi 

Probably one of the hardest to tell 

Idk if this is a headcanon I made up or if it’s canon but I feel like Kenshi is good at hiding certain emotions 

If it’s an emotional moment then yeah, it could slip but this is something more casual 

He wouldn’t say anything but he’d do things for you 

You’d mention you haven’t had time to cook because you’ve been busy and he’d offer to help with whatever 

He’d ask your opinion on stuff first as well 

As friends he makes sure you’re included but it’s even more so if he has a crush (this is not correct English but I cannot think of how else to put this)

One of the other guys would make some joke about him being in love and he’d look at them in a way that would let them know they were right 

Kenshi is not 10 so trying to blackmail him won’t work 

His eyes are always on you and even though he knows he shouldn’t be jealous of other people that are close to you, he can’t help it 

There’s two voices in his head. One says “just tell them”, the other says “you’re gonna mess up your friendship”

So he’d continue to be a little butler lowkey until he actually felt like he had to get a move on 

If someone showed genuine romantic interest in you, then he’d start moving 

He’s either gonna be stereotypically sweet and get flowers and shit or he’s just gonna ask you out at a random time 

Like I said, whether or not you accept his invitation is up to you 

Dude is probably tense as fuck the entire time he’s asking 

Kung Lao

Similar to Johnny 

Kung Lao has such an inflated sense of self, you not liking him makes no sense to him 

Does that mean he just tells you right away though? No

There’s lots of things that make no sense and happen anyway so he plays it safe 

And by safe I mean he is incredibly obvious but doesn’t just straight up tell you 

Lots of flirting and lingering looks 

He does a lot of extra shit then looks to see if you saw it 

It’s like when a kid does a cartwheel then looks to make sure their parents saw them 

He also straight up asks for compliments 

“That was a really good kick, right?”

Sure Kung Lao

He likes compliments way better from you now

He kinda acts the same because everyone knows he has a big head but the flirting makes it obvious 

And Raiden definitely knows. Kung Lao told him because why wouldn’t he?

Anyone joking about stealing you away bothers him a lot more than he’d like to admit 

He’s both “I’m Kung Lao. You have no chance” and “but what if they do have a chance?”

Admits his feelings way sooner than Kenshi 

Probably does it extremely casual too just to rip the bandaid off 

You’re standing next to each other and he’s like “we should go on a date on Friday”

Well since you asked so nicely-

Who’s turning down Kung Lao? Let’s be fr for a second 

Raiden

Doesn’t he like Kitana and it was incredibly subtle? I only found out because of intros 

So with that being said, I think it would be difficult to tell 

He’d act the same way he does as your friend 

I think his fear of messing up your friendship would be higher than everyone else 

So he doesn’t say anything 

In a different post I said he’d give you produce as a gift and I think that’s still the same here 

He’s gonna still have the hookup so food is a frequent gift he gives you to show his affection 

He also offers to do tasks for you 

When it comes to training, he’s probably noticeably softer towards you 

His excuse is “oh, I didn’t notice I was doing that”

It’s a terrible lie 

Everyone at some point finds out because he’s constantly staring at you and is soft towards you 

Raiden is a pretty calm person but he’d actually strangle Kung Lao if he said anything. He’d get a toddler’s grip 

You’d probably find out about it from the other guys instead of him 

And you’d think they’re just fucking around like they always do 

Raiden still refuses to confess. He doesn’t wanna confess then lose you completely 

And tbh he’d probably take so long, you’d get into other relationships and he’d just watch 

Finally though after 279373 years he’d confess which would free him from his emotions and Kung Lao harassing him 

Liu Kang

I think there’d be two stages to this 

The first stage is “I’ll just ignore it”

During this stage he’ll try to ignore his feelings for you because bullshit comes after Liu Kang constantly and dragging you into that is something he definitely doesn’t wanna do 

There’s a good chance you were in the previous timeline and you died horribly so he wants to stay away so he doesn’t fuck up this new life for you 

During this time he’d compliment you on your skills and be a lot more patient with you when it comes to you screwing up (which is something everyone does)

He either involves you in a lot of missions of sidelines you so you won’t be hurt 

Which is kinda shitty because that means he’s sending other people into dangerous situations 

Soon after this stage, he enters the second stage 

This stage is the “fuck it” stage 

Liu Kang does not have a good history when it comes to romance 

He was way too slow and lost Kitana (multiple times I think. I don’t remember what happened in the dlc in MK11) and now in this timeline, Kitana has no memory of them and has no feelings for him. Then he saw his Kitana but they can’t be together. 

Because of this he realizes that he has to start moving quicker and prioritizing his happiness 

So he just asks 

It’s better to hear “no” than to always wonder what could’ve been 

But bitch who is turning down Liu Kang? Don’t be stupid 

He’d probably take you to a secluded spot and say how he feels and ask you to go on a date with him 

It seems like it came out of nowhere but if you review what’s happened between you two, it’ll start to make sense 

[kachowden]

i have so many questions 😵‍💫 why did Chris and reader break up?? I'm addicted to him already and he's now my favorite oc you have (next to apis hehe)

(I’d recommend listening to “Somebody that I used to know” while reading this lil tidbit)

“I’m Sick of your shit Chris.”

Chris? Chris? When was the last time you called him that. That wasn’t his name. It was Christophe. Say Christophe.

Not Chris.

“Yeah? Well maybe if you were smarter you wouldn’t have anything to be sick of.”

This had happened a few times before. Christophe could acknowledge it being primarily his fault. But he wouldn’t tell you that. Nor would he apologize.

“Your jealousy is out of fucken control and you know it!” Your finger stabbed painfully into his chest. He wavered. “That guy you punched was my tutor! You know I was failing that class! I needed his help!”

“You didn’t need Jack shit from that asshole! If you needed help with something you should’ve asked me!”

“I didn’t wanna deal with your bitchy attitude!”

He scoffed.

“Yeah well looks who’s being a bitch now. God you’re so fucken annoying.”

Ah fuck. That definitely wasn’t the right thing to say.

The air was thick. This…was different then your usual arguments and Christophe could tell. The look you gave him made him cringe. An apology was on the tip of his tongue. It was like chewing lead though.

He sighed, his fists clenching and unclenching as you glared at him.

“Look Y/n…I’m-“

“We’re done.”

Fear. Cold, striking fear.

“What?”

Your brows which had been scrunched up, in what his opinion was a cute way, relaxed. Your eyes closed, and the rage that pooled in them was replaced with an apathetic, almost sad, neutrality. You looked…tired. And it made his heart tremor and cry.

“We’re done Chris. I’m done. I can’t handle this anymore.”

Stop.

“I don’t know what happened. You used to be such a wonderful person…”

He still was. He just wanted to keep you safe!

“I loved you so much.”

You still do! Don’t fucken say that! You still loved him and he still loved you so stop fucken talking!

“Now you’re just an asshole. I can’t be around you anymore.”

Don’t say that. Please.

“You make me sick.”

Shut up.

“Shut up.”

You frowned. It was pitiful. Like you were mourning something. Maybe your relationship. There shouldn’t have been anything to mourn though. You weren’t breaking up. You were still-

“It’s over, Christophe.”

“……”

It hurt so much watching you grab your bag and walk away. It burned like someone had dropped hot coal down his throat and into his chest. His heart was aching, and the first few tears were quick to sting his trembling brown eyes. Your figure blurred by the time you made it out the door.

The wall and his fists were battered and bruised within minutes.

He swore he couldn’t breathe.

“Y/n…”

Why didn’t he say anything? He did but it was “shut up.” Instead of “I’m sorry.” He should’ve said sorry. He should’ve gotten on his knees and begged you to give him a second chance. He’d do better. He’d carve it into his chest that he’d do better for you. He’d be the perfect boyfriend.

His pride was too much. Even for him. He was such a fucken coward.

The news that your tutor got busted for harassment towards other students didn’t reach you.

[yandere-kokeshi]

Can I get a yandere hobie x plus size reader who's Insecure about her or their weight please? Both sfw and nsfw if you comfortable with it.

Warnings: talks about insecurity, and nsfw.

A/N: no because he's definitely a chubby chaser. I'm chubby, so sending this in made me smile ;P! Ty for the request <3.

And please be more specific with the gender next time. I did GN.

Hobie, at first, would be sad and surprised when you opened about your insecurities. In his own eyes, you’ve always been attractive. He doesn’t understand why you are insecure. He gets sad whenever you devalue yourself or look at yourself in the mirror just because of your size. Everybody is different, especially with size. Why do you need the praise of others when he tells you how beautiful you are?

You should know he loves everything about you. The stretch marks, body curves, round cheeks, and plush thighs; he admires it like a deity. Nothing can change his opinion.

He has a way with words. There’s no room for hate when he’s with you. He’ll trace his hands down every spot you deem ugly. Whispering everything he loves about you, why you’re so perfect. All until you give in and genuinely tell him you feel better.

Hobie will sweep you off your feet. When worrying about your weight and size, about people's opinion, he’ll immediately silence those thoughts by picking you up in his arms. No matter what you’re doing or where you are, he’ll take the opportunity to lift you up. Sometimes he’ll even do it with one hand or lift you onto his shoulders. It always surprises you. If you start worrying about hurting him, he’ll shush you and say, “Ya’ feel like a kitten to me”.

Is 100% bold. Loves to slap your ass when you least expect it. Especially in front of people.

Finding clothes to fit your lovely form is hard. It’s either highly expensive or pretty bland. However, with Hobie, the issue is naturally fixed. He loves to sew and create clothes for you, though beware: Hobie will try to sneak in more revealing/risqué of clothing.

More often or not, he calls you his sweet cheeks, baby or peaches. Definitely bunny if you are too cute for him to handle.

Ever since you two got together, he’s been pawing and touching you; at any given time, his hands are on you and squishing your chubby form.

And this includes with sex. Literally the entire time, he’s with you, rolling under the sheets and kissing your skin, his hands are pawing at your rolls and thighs, making sure to leave permanent marks.

He thinks the best medicine for your insecurity is fucking it all out. If he finds you frowning in front of the mirror, pulling at your tummy rolls? He’s fucking you in front of it, making sure you make eye contact with him as he nibbles and bites at you; calling you his pretty peaches.

Denying sitting on his lap as you fear you’re ‘too fat?’ Hobie makes you sit on his face, leaving dark marks all over your yummy thighs and ensuring you cum at least 5 times before he gives you the real package.

Insecure of how your thighs and ass look? He takes extra time with foreplay, whispering the reasons why he loves your silver marks, soft skin, and peached build; biting into your ass as he licks your special place.

Definitely uses your thighs to masturbate. Whenever the two of you are sleeping, and he’s up at midnight – his bulge in the boxers becoming a problem, he’ll pull down your underwear before slicking in between them. His groaning and love marks littered and stained on your neck cause you to wake up. Though, you aren’t complaining.

Can’t decide if he’s more of an ass, or thigh man. He appreciates both of them and every part of your body equally. Any stretch marks, cellulite, anything.

The type to affectionately cup your sex. Whether that’s after a steamy session or sitting in your bedroom, Hobie will dig his hand into your pants and cup it like a piece of art. Most of the time, it’s not even sexual – he just likes how it feels down there.

As much as he loves you, Hobie is still a devious son of a bitch. He loves to leave marks all over you, especially your thighs and tummy.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[morning-star-joy]

pining and anticipation (Sub!Joel x F!Reader)

Pairing: Post-Outbreak, Sub!Joel x F!Reader

Summary: You and Joel have been longing for each other for months. When the tension finally seems to be about to break, you realize that the strong, tough man isn't as dominant as you would have thought.

Tags/Warnings: 18+ MDNI Explicit Smut: face sitting, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, creampie, dom/sub themes, Sub!Joel, praise kink, yes ma'am kink, orgasm denial kinda? Pet names: Joel calls Reader sweetheart, darlin', baby; Reader calls Joel cowboy, baby, sweetie, good boy. Arguments, Mutual Pining, Language

Wordcount: 4.8k

A/N: Forgive the bit of exposition! Also only gave this one readthrough before posting at 12:45 am so forgive any grammar issues too!

Joel x Reader masterlist

You knew Joel Miller was a complicated man, but that would never stop you from longing for him.

Besides, you weren’t the easiest person to be around either. Both of you were stubborn, and many of your discussions ended up in disagreements—nothing too heated, usually just differing opinions on how to handle situations that arose around the settlement.

Then came the day you may have pushed him a little too far, earning his rage by risking your life for him on a patrol. You had scraped by from the skin of your teeth, escaping being cornered by a group of Stalkers with skill and, honestly, more than a fair amount of luck.

Back at the safehouse afterwards, once Joel had made sure you weren’t too badly injured, any brief glimpse of concern for you that made your pining for him increase tenfold faded as his face morphed into thinly veiled rage.

“The fuck were you thinking?” he had snapped, grabbing your shoulders firmly, and your shock quickly shifted into a glare up at him.

“The fuck was I thinking?” you replied angrily, shrugging his hands off your shoulders before pointing a finger up at him. “The fuck were you doing, Joel? Heading in alone like that. Those Stalkers would have torn your head off.”

“They almost tore yours off,” Joel nearly snarled the words, pacing away from you as he ran his hands through his hair.

What ensued was a real argument, unlike any you had had before, emotions running high and tension ramping up until Joel interrupted you with a loud explosion of, “Jesus Christ, I can’t lose—”

You froze at the confession that nearly slipped past his lips, eyes wide as your heart raced in your chest, even as Joel quickly shut himself up when he realized what he was about to say.

His eyes were as wide as yours before he quickly closed his gaze off, brushing past you out of the safehouse, towards the horses with a mumble of, “We should head back. Need to get your injury looked at.”

During the days that passed after that, you didn’t catch so much of a glimpse of the surly survivor.

Left on your lonesome, you were doomed to repeat the words he had almost spoken over and over, wondering how differently things may be between you now if he had just fucking said them.

Because, Jesus, you wanted him to say them. You wanted it, wanted him, for so long that sometimes it felt like you could hardly breathe around him.

Yes, you got onto each other’s nerves more days than not. And, yes, you had both said some pretty nasty things to each other after that patrol that left you with a new scar on your hip.

But for all of his stoicism and emotional issues, for all your heated discussions and pointed glares, you had found yourself longing to see what…other ways you could explore this tension that had been building between you for months.

What you were not aware of, was how deeply Joel was longing for you, too.

It was something more than a pure physical desire, something that he hadn’t felt in such a long time.

When you were around, Joel felt at ease. Yes, you irritated each other, but somehow you were still able to bring Joel a sense of safety he thought had long since slipped from his grasp.

Just hearing your voice was soothing, healing to his damaged soul. Just seeing your face was calming, putting him at what was almost peace, or as close to it as he could get.

Really, Joel just had it so fucking bad for you, and if you wanted him half as badly, he would gladly let you do whatever you wanted with him.

He stood there now on the edge of your property, days after your most heated discussion, after you had scared him nearly half to death by risking your life. And for what? For him? No, no fucking way. He couldn’t lose you, especially not for the sake of his own survival.

Joel thought back then to how he had almost admitted to that fact: the knowledge in his soul that he couldn’t lose you, lest he be torn apart.

He had just barely stopped himself from admitting it then. But after not seeing you for days, after missing your face and aching to have you near him again, he was almost at the breaking point of just fucking saying it, if only to have you argue with him again about it.

If anything, he just wanted to see you. He just had to see you.

And there you were, sitting on your front porch, sipping coffee from a mug as you stargazed, like you weren’t even more captivating than those multitude of lights in the night sky.

Joel took one step forward across your lawn.

Stopped.

Took a step back.

What did he say? What the fuck could he say? How do you tell someone that you’ve been thinking of them day and night for months?

Dying to have them, dying to feel them.

Because, fuck, he wanted your body just as much as he wanted you.

Joel shook his head, snapping himself out of it as he repeated the same process.

Step forward. Stop. Step back.

Eventually, he must have shifted in some way that caught your attention, and your head lifted, glancing up from your mug towards where he still loitered on the edge of your property.

When you saw Joel there, you froze, brows furrowing as it took you a moment to realize it was him.

And when you did know exactly who was standing there, your mug nearly slipped from your grip, but you held onto it tighter, almost like you were trying to absorb courage from the warmth of the mug that seeped into your palms as you called out softly, “Hey there, Miller.”

Joel’s head tilted, but you couldn’t see his face, shrouded in darkness from where he stood as he replied quietly, “Hey.”

You waited for him to come closer, to step into the light so you could see him.

After a few moments, he did take a few steps closer, before stopping and taking one step back.

How fucking classic of him.

“So, what?” you started, scoffing under your breath as you raised your mug towards him to gesture towards where he was still hiding half in the shadows. “You gonna come here and just stand there?”

Joel didn’t respond. Unmoving, not speaking, and concern sparked through your body like a wildfire as you leaned forward, brows furrowed.

“Joel?” you said softly, placing your cup down on the small table next to your chair, rising from your seat to walk towards the porch railing.

At this angle, you could actually see part of Joel’s expression.

And when you saw his eyes, and the uncertainty, the pain, the fucking longing in them, your breath caught in your throat.

Then you were already down the porch steps, walking swiftly across the lawn to throw your arms around him and pull him down into a tight hug.

Joel’s arms wrapped around you quickly, holding you close without a hint of the doubt he had just been showing, and you sighed softly, placing your hand on the back of his head as his face rested on your shoulder.

“Oh, Joel…” you whispered, eyes shutting as you hoped you could offer him some kind of comfort to whatever he was torturing himself over.

There was no way for you to know that you somehow were making him feel so at ease, while also increasing that self-inflicted torture, that pining for you, by tenfold.

Your hand stroked his back, rubbing between his shoulder blades in a soothing manner as your other hand found his hair, fingers running through his curls as you murmured sweet words to him.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, closing your eyes as you sank into the embrace. Part of you had a feeling he was still beating himself up over the close call on patrol, and you whispered, “I’m here, Joel. I’m always here.”

After a moment, you heard his deep voice rumble next to your ear as he replied, “I know.”

Joel pulled back then, glancing over your face with that look of longing still in his eyes, and your heart ached with equal longing for him as he gently placed a hand on your face.

But when he gave you a smile, even though it was small and weak, you returned it without a second thought, your own hand reaching up to rest over his as you sank into the touch.

Emotions were hard for you, the same way they were difficult for Joel. Neither of you were all that good at expressing your emotions.

And so you let your hand drop, glancing away from him in a way that made his own hand fall from your face as you asked quietly, “Do you want to come inside?” 

You glanced over his tired face, the bags under his eyes, and added, “I have coffee on the stove, if you want some.”

A soft laugh left Joel’s lips, the sound of it making your heart race, and he replied softly, “Yeah. Coffee sounds real nice right about now.”

Your smile brightened at that, and you couldn’t help but wink as you teased, “Knew you couldn’t turn down a hot cup of coffee.”

Turning, you led the way back up your porch to your front door, only stopping to pick your own mug back up before bringing Joel inside.

In the kitchen, you were in the midst of pouring him his coffee when his next words hit you out of nowhere, nearly making you drop the pitcher, “I missed you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes wide before you softened at the words he said so surely, so warmly.

The fight you had after that patrol was stupid. He had been scared that you got hurt, and that it had been to keep him safe. And you had been angry, determined to do what it took to protect him.

Days had gone by without you speaking to each other, feeling regret for your argument.

Now all you wanted was to tell him exactly how you felt.

And so you did. 

“I missed you too, Joel,” you murmured, giving him another smile as you passed the mug to him.

Your fingers brushed over his, and your heart rate jumped before accelerating, suddenly feeling hot all over by how his gaze darkened at your touch while he watched you over the rim of the mug.

“It’s far too quiet when you’re not around,” he drawled slowly, and you huffed out a quiet laugh, crossing your arms over your chest as you glanced away.

With your gaze averted, you didn’t notice the way Joel’s eyes were drawn to the collar of your tank top, noting how the fabric dipped to show your cleavage, pressed together from your arms, the sight sending arousal shooting straight to his cock.

But when you looked back, even though Joel’s eyes had lifted from your chest, you still caught the way his pupils were dilated.

Your head tilted, glancing over his face, noting the way he sucked in a breath just from the way you were analyzing him closely. Eyes dancing down his form briefly, you quickly noticed the bulge that was already forming in his jeans, and desire pooled between your legs just at the sight of it.

Biting your lip, you looked back up at Joel, watching as he cleared his throat and shifted, gripping the handle of the mug tighter as he looked at you in a way that almost said he was anticipating something.

Anticipating you?

Interesting.

“Really?” you asked, smiling at him as you took a step closer towards him. “You really missed little ol’ me, Miller?”

Joel’s breath escaped him in a heavy exhale, his dark eyelashes fluttering as you stepped closer and he found himself whispering earnestly, “Really.”

“Careful with the flattery, cowboy,” you hummed, stepping up right in front of him to fix the collar of his flannel where it had gotten messed up during your hug earlier. “I may think you wanna kiss me or something.”

You bit your lip at the boldness of your comment, avoiding his eyes as your cheeks flushed at the words you spoke.

But you were starting to get a strong feeling, standing here with him like this, and when you felt his chest begin to rise and fall faster under the warmth of your palm now resting on it…

Gotcha.

“Well,” Joel said slowly, and you glanced back up at him, watching as he licked his lips slowly, his gaze on your own as they parted while he murmured, “Maybe I do.”

Heart racing, a large smile slowly curled onto your lips, and your hand moved to rest on his shoulder as you leaned in closer.

“Oh yeah?” you hummed, blatantly, shamelessly flirting now as you continued to watch him closely for his reactions that were slowly helping you put the pieces together on just what this strong, stoic man wanted you to do to him. “How would you want to kiss me, Joel? Describe it to me.”

Joel bit his lips now, his mind spinning at your flirtatious words, and he slowly set the mug down before reaching for your hip at your demand—demand. Fuck, he was a goner.

“Well, darlin’...” Joel whispered as he tugged you closer a bit with the large hand that covered your hip. “First, I’d pull you in real close."

You hummed, your pussy now throbbing with a need to have his hands or mouth on it, completely fucked by the way he was looking at you, like you were…everything.

“Would you hold my waist, then?” you asked, glancing down to where his hand rested on your hip before looking back up at him through your eyelashes. “Or my hair?”

“Your waist, your hair…” Joel murmured, his hand stroking along your hip and up your side before he lifted it to run through your hair, a sigh slipping past his lips before he whispered, “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

“Anything?” you whispered, your breathing becoming heavier just from the heat of the moment, the tension that kept growing between you.

You wondered how long it would take before it broke.

“And would you stop there?” you asked quietly, deciding to test the waters, to take a leap to see if you really could satisfy that ache in your core that he was causing. “At a kiss? Or would you want…more?”

Joel faltered then, eyes wide as his fingers nearly became tangled in your hair before he grabbed the strands tighter, drawing a quiet moan from your throat that elicited a low groan from him in turn.

“More,” he murmured breathlessly, head tilting down as he stared at your lips as they began to tilt up into a smirk.

“Where would you want me, Joel?” you asked breathlessly, deciding to play your game with him for a little longer. “Against the wall?”

You let your voice get low, husky, your panties so damp with your desire at this point as Joel breathed heavily, hot breaths falling against your lips as your faces naturally moved closer as you continued to tease him, “Or would you want me in my bed, Joel? On top of you, or below?”

“On top,” Joel murmured without a second thought, that fucking Southern drawl a low rasp now, and you shivered at the sound of it, at the hints of his submission that you had been picking up on, that were now becoming even more clear to you.

A moan got caught in the back of your throat as he admitted he wanted you on top, lips parting with need.

“I bet you’d like that, huh?” you whispered seductively, tilting your head back and leaning up so your lips brushed against his jaw, humming at the feeling of his scruff there. “You’d like seeing me like that. I bet the thought gets you all hot, hm, Joel?”

He groaned again at your words—a low, delicious sound that made you want to sit him right at your kitchen table so you could suck his dick until he was seeing stars, right then and there.

“It does,” Joel admitted, his voice almost one of defeat, but also of pure, unadulterated lust as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close enough to feel his erection through your pants, and your head tilted back, lips parting as you rolled your hips against his, revering in the moan your movements pulled from the back of his throat.

You shivered at his moan, feeling yourself get so fucking wet you were sure your pussy could take his entire cock in one stroke now, your body growing hot as you leaned back down to kiss his neck a few times before biting down softly, lapping your tongue against the mark before whispering, “Do you like me marking you, Joel? Do you like me claiming you? Making you mine?”

“Fuck,” Joel hissed at your bite, his large hands grabbing your hips tightly, directing them up against his erection, creating friction that made you both moan as he whispered desperately, “Oh God, yes. Yes, I’d do anything, baby. Everything for you.”

“Joel,” you gasped, pulling your face back, unable to resist him anymore, giving up on your teasing as you grabbed his face and leaned up to kiss him.

It was hard and passionate, desperate even, your lips moving together as if you couldn’t get enough of each other as you kissed for the first time, with a hunger you didn’t think either of you had truly experienced for anybody else in a long time.

“Joel,” you gasped his name again, hands grabbing at every part of him, like you were trying to take him in all at once, but it wasn’t enough.

Too many clothes, they needed to come off, now.

“Come on,” you murmured in between passionate kisses, tugging him after you towards your bedroom. “Let’s make your fantasy a reality, cowboy.”

“Sweet God,” you heard Joel whisper behind you, hand gripping yours tightly as you led the way. “Yes, please, ma’am.”

You whimpered at that slip of ma’am, unable to resist murmuring a “good boy” at the sound of it as you turned back around once in your bedroom, pulling him right back into your arms at the sound of his unabashed, low moan at your praise.

Tugging at his clothes, it didn’t take long until they were covering your floor, leaving him completely undressed with his red, leaking cock slapping against his stomach with the push of his boxers down.

You moaned at the sight of it, large and hard, just for you. Throbbing and ready to spill inside of you, but you weren’t going to let him get off that easy.

Pushing him back onto the bed, you watched him with half-lidded eyes as you murmured, “Lay back and watch, baby.”

You watched Joel settle back against your pillows at your words, loving how his cock twitched, needing to be touched, to be satisfied, as he watched you make a show of undressing for him.

Your hands slid over your skin as it became bare for his eyes, teasing and squeezing yourself in just the right places that would accentuate your natural curves and make yourself feel good, biting your lip at every groan that left Joel’s throat as he watched you. You stared at the swollen head of his cock as you brushed your thumbs over your nipples and moaned for him, clenching your thighs together as he whimpered at the sight of you stimulating yourself.

“What was that, Joel?” you murmured as you heard him mutter something under his breath, some kind of sound of approval, as you let your panties fall to the floor, stepping out of them before crawling up onto the bed.

You hooked your legs around his waist, hovering above him so your pussy wasn’t touching him, but letting him see how soaking wet you were, how ready to be filled by him you were, as his head tilted back against the pillows with another whimper as you demanded, “Use your words, sweetie.”

Joel’s eyes flickered all over your body, as if he couldn’t decide what to settle on, what part of you deserved the most worship, until finally he whispered in a rasp, “Perfect. Fucking perfect. You’re a goddamn goddess, darlin.”

You laughed softly, eyes bright with warm amusement at his words.

“What a pretty mouth,” you whispered, teasing his cursing before leaning down to kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth. “I want to taste every moan you make, baby. Keep making those sounds for me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joel nearly whined his submission, and you kissed him harder, faster, before pushing him back down even further against the pillows.

“Get comfortable, Miller,” you instructed as you began to pull yourself even higher up his body. “Want to sit on your face.”

“Oh fuck,” Joel whispered, eyes wide with lust, his hands grabbing your hips—not directing your movements, but following them as he leaned back, and you situated your pussy above his face. “Yes, oh God. Fucking yes, sweetheart.”

You hovered above him, teasing him with your dripping folds inches above his mouth, watching with pleasure as he parted his lips, tongue darting out to try and taste you, but you leaned your hips up and away from him.

After a few more times of teasing him like this, Joel whimpered, fingertips pressing into your thighs with desperation as he whispered roughly, “Please, darlin’. Let me taste you, I’m dying for your sweet pussy.”

You whined, biting down hard on your lip as you grabbed his hair, tugging it to make his head tilt back, forcing him to make eye contact with you as you ordered, “No touching yourself, Miller. You hear me? You’re gonna cum inside me. I’m gonna take every last drop of you. No touching yourself.”

Joel’s hips were thrusting weakly into the air at your words, desperate for friction, but he nodded, eyes wide and completely submissive as he rasped, “Yes, ma’am. Anything. Anything for you.”

You nodded, whispering “good boy” before finally lowering yourself, still using your hand in Joel’s hair to direct him towards your pussy so he could drag his tongue along your folds for the first time.

He moaned at the same time you did, your head tilting back as his tongue traced that path again, and again, lost in the taste of you as you slowly seated yourself fully on his face.

You whimpered, fingers tangling in his hair at the feeling of his face pressed completely to your pussy, the strong slope of his nose bumping against your clit making you gasp, toes curling as he repeated the motion while his tongue slipped past your folds and inside of you.

Joel fucked you with his tongue, rapidly picking up the pace as he grabbed your thighs hard enough to leave bruises, his nose rubbing against your clit until you were shamelessly riding his face, eyes fixed on the ceiling as you whimpered your way through the build of pleasure.

If Joel was having a hard time breathing, he didn’t let you know, holding you tight against his face as his tongue delved into you again and again, stroking along your walls and pulling increasingly louder and obscene noises from your throat while his nose stimulated your bundle of nerves until you were coming against his face for the first time.

Your toes curled, vision blurring at the intensity of the orgasm, hips gyrating to rub yourself all over his mouth while you rode out the high, soaking his facial hair with your release until he had to pull back with a gasp.

“Joel—”

“More,” Joel panted, readjusting his grip on you, taking a few more deep breaths before pulling you right back onto his face, making you gasp, hips jerking forward as his skillful tongue quickly brought you reeling from the end of one orgasm right into the next.

You lost count of how many times Joel made you come like that, unable to tell one orgasm from the next as he muttered “more, more, I need more,” until you were pulling him away from your pussy with your hand in his hair, slipping off of him with a satisfied, lazy grin as you saw the evidence of your orgasms all over his face.

“That’s enough, baby,” you whispered, shaking your head at the brief concern on Joel’s face, placing your hand on your chest to reassure him before you added, “Wanna make you feel good too. You’ve been such a good boy for me, Joel, you deserve a reward.”

Joel’s chest was rising and falling with heavy pants as you moved back down it, lowering yourself to rub your pussy that was soaked from your desire and his saliva over his throbbing cock, eliciting moans from both of your throats at the contact.

“Jesus,” Joel whispered, head tilting back, mouth falling open just from the feeling of you grinding your wet cunt against his cock. “I—fucking hell, darlin’, not gonna last long if you keep teasing me like that.”

You planned to finally show Joel mercy, wanting to make him cum so hard that he’d forget anything other than your name, but you couldn’t resist replying huskily, “You’re gonna come when I tell you to, Joel. Understood?”

Joel whimpered, and you pulled your hips away from him slightly, causing his hips to lift in a desperate attempt to chase you, fingernails digging into the soft skin of your thighs as you repeated, “Understood, Joel?”

“Y-yes ma’am,” he gasped, nodding desperately as he looked down at you as your hand found his cock, bringing the head of it to push past your folds as he rambled, “Yes, please, I’ll do anything, whatever you—fuck!”

The last word was a snarl, Joel’s head tilting back against the pillow, hips lifting from the mattress as you completely sunk yourself down onto him in one go. His skilled pussy eating had left you more than ready, and you moaned at the feeling of his cock completely filling you up, letting yourself adjust to the size of him as he whispered to himself, words that sounded like he was trying to stop himself from coming now just from the feeling of being inside of you.

You slowly began to roll your hips, testing his reaction, and when he didn’t immediately burst, you lifted yourself up, letting his cock nearly slip all the way out of you before coming back down, drawing a harsh moan from his throat as his eyes snapped up to meet yours.

“Lord have mercy,” Joel murmured under his breath, watching the way your breasts bounced with your movements as you rode him, slowly at first, then faster, hands finding his chest for leverage as you leaned forward, moving your hips to take him in and out, in and out, listening with satisfaction as he began to pray to you instead of any god.

Your name left his lips, over and over, in whimpers and pleas for release as you rode him harder, and you sighed in affection as you realized that even now, when he began to buck up into you to meet your movements, he was keeping himself from coming because you hadn’t given him permission yet.

Leaning down, you brushed your lips over Joel’s, whispering your new command against his mouth, “Come for me, Joel. Fill me up.”

With a cry of your name, Joel’s hands on your hips brought you down roughly to meet his hard thrusts once, twice, before his cock was pulsing deep inside of you, emptying himself into you as his dark eyes glazed over in complete release.

When his eyes regained a bit more clarity, and his cock began to soften inside of you, your hand stroked down his sweaty face, letting him slip out of you as you lifted yourself off of him, but not without giving him a long, deep kiss.

Falling onto your back beside him, you stared up at the ceiling, blissed out from your multiple orgasms and the satisfaction of feeling the intensity of his, the evidence of which was leaking out of your pussy and staining your thighs as you giggled to yourself.

“What?” Joel rasped, his eyes focusing on the side of your face, and you shook your head, turning to meet his gaze with a grin.

“Never would have pegged the big, tough Joel Miller for being a total sub, is all,” you teased, and Joel scoffed, rolling his eyes at your comment, even as a deep blush settled onto his face at the truth of it.

“Shut up.”

[nanaminsmoon]

Ngl that suburban eren & hood princess reader fic had me in SHAMBLESS #itwassooogood! If you have the time though it would be real cool to see how this duo became to be and how they met!

thank youu frenn!! this took a minute but i hope it's okay🤭

cw: pnv, unprotected sex, marking, eren being a dick, eren calls reader; 'princess', 'baby', 'good girl', n word usage,

wc: 3015

”but i can’t handle you, right?”, the irony in that statement came from the fact that both of eren’s hands sat on your hips, pulling you onto his dick to stop you running from it. you couldn't think of a single time you had been fucked this good. so, physically, you couldn’t take it. and that’s why your feet kept trying to save your sanity, and cervix, by shifting you from his grasp.

”n-no”, you shook your head at his question. eren’s frustration was palpable, because he had been hearing that he ‘couldn’t handle you’ for so long that it had grown into an obsession. partly due to its falsehood; eren knew he could handle you. if given the chance, he would handle you until your walls remembered every vein on his dick, and the hickies he had left on your body, made it uncomfortable for you to dress yourself in the morning. when those words had been said, in jest, by his friends, he was able to shrug them off. but that assumption had proved very difficult to evict from his shoulders once your lips were the ones it was exiting from.

a chance friendship between neighbouring grandparents, meant that you and eren found yourselves in the same friendship circle. levi was the one who introduced eren to everyone and, granted you mainly saw each other at functions, you had quickly caught eren’s attention. never one to go out, eren avoided parties at all costs. but, if alerted that you’d be attending, best believe he’d have his fit planned and laid out the night before. unfortunately for him, those adorations were not reciprocated, because you paid no attention to the boy. in your eyes, eren was a rich white kid hanging out with hood niggas as a way to pretend to be someone he’s not. when you’d brought that up to some of your other friends, they’d refuted it,

”nah, we cool wit’ eren”, ony had shaken his head at you. even after hearing that, your opinions concerning the brunette would remain unchanged, as you’d always see him as a spoiled white suburban boy who was using you and your friends to cosplay a lifestyle he didn't lead.

so, naturally, his liking towards you was never known to you, nor was it ever a concern. because, as mentioned, you did not care for the boy at all. it wasn’t necessarily disdain, just apathy. and a part of eren knew that, but no amount of awareness could stop his eyes from glossing over every time they landed on you. nor could it stop the corners of his mouth from rising when the sight of your laughing form graced his pupils. everyone around him could see it, and half of your friends thought it to be cute and laughed it off. but others decided to take it upon themselves to save him from the impending heartache sure to come when you inevitably rejected him. eren didn’t understand and whenever he did question their rationale, he’d always get the same answer,

”she just likes her niggas a little…rough around the edges”, ony had once answered, to which eren’s face screwed in outraged confusion.

”okay?”, eren questioned, not understanding why that preference meant you could never like him specifically.

”he’s saying you’re too soft”, levi clarified jokingly, and when eren looked to see ony nodding in confirmation, an indignated scoff would leave his mouth. eren kept to himself, so no one knew what he was like behind closed doors. not to say that the difference between those two versions of himself were vast, it’s just that everyone just took what they saw of him in public as who he was as a whole. because eren was impassive, if people caused him problems, he was the type of guy to just walk away. and that was simply because he didn’t like giving his energy to those who don’t deserve it.

but to you, he wanted to give his energy and so much more. anything you wanted, he was willing to provide for you in the highest quality. every dollar of his parent’s money would be gathered and used to fulfil your every desire, if that’s what you requested. a chunk of his heart shifted to sit in his throat every single time he saw you, and that’s something he couldn’t ignore. the feeling was far too premature to be called ‘love’, but it excited him to know that it could get there, should it be given a chance for it to blossom freely. that’s why he chose to ignore all the ‘warnings’, and just walk up to you and, at least, try to spark up a conversation.

you couldn’t remember where you had heard it first, but once the rumour was in the air, it festered. that rumour being the one that claimed that the green-eyed boy, who drove a tesla, was supposedly in love with you. once one person said it, it became people’s primary method of greeting you. and every single time, it’d be met with unbothered snickers, and eye rolls, from yourself,

”the fuck’s that gotta do with me?”, you had laughed out. it wasn’t just because you thought he was poser, but he just wasn’t your type. it was no secret that you an affinity for pretty boys, but eren was too pretty. he was disney prince pretty, and he had the manner to match it. now, there’s nothing wrong with a well-mannered man, but eren spoke with his chest concaved, and moved like he feared taking up space. meaning he was a terrible match for you, because you needed a nigga who could put you in your place, and wouldn’t just cower in front of you and let you bitch him around.

that being said, the only thing about eren that you didn’t take issue with was his princely good looks. because eren was fine, and you were able to admit that. not publicly, but you were able to acknowledge it, even if you’d never express it to anyone with working ears. you some may argue that the moment that you got close to saying it aloud was caused by people inflating your head with thoughts of him. that had been the moment you looked up to the door, leading to the kitchen you and your friends were sat at to get away from the rest of the party, to see eren stood, hands in his pockets, and eyes practically cutting you in half with how harsh they were looking. in the place of the compliment that you nearly blurted out, came a deep breath before you turned to look away from him. eren would take notice of your reaction, and that’s what would encourage him to walk over to you. you'd see him move, but his destination would be a mystery to you, until you felt a nudge to your side followed by a joke from your friend,

”your boyfriend’s here”, she nodded in his direction and, once you saw what she was nodding at, you rolled your eyes. the next time you’d look to eren, he’d be stood right in front of you with a friendly smile on his face,

”hey.”, he said, raising a hand. you’d manage to hear him over the music, but you wouldn’t give him much.

”hm”, was the only response he got from you, further cementing the notion that speaking to you wouldn’t be easy. but that wouldn’t stop him from trying.

”i…uh…i’m eren”, he said, more nervously than he had intended. the fear of you thinking he was too soft made him nervous, inadvertently making him seem more cowardly than he was. everyone’s assumptions about his character were being confirmed in your mind, and seeing it on your face made his nerves rise.

”y/n.”, you said, and he nodded as if he wasn’t already aware.

”nice to meet you”, he replied. though not formally, the both of you had met before. meaning that you knew of each other, but had never really spoken. so you weren’t exactly comfortable with each other, nor were you keen on getting to that point.

”the fuck d’you want, my nigga?”, you asked and, having only ever known you to be a bubbly person, the austerity of your words surprised eren.

”just wanted to tell you that you’re really pretty”, he said, and your lips did threaten to form a flattered smile, and you’d let them get halfway before you decided to shut him down.

”thanks, but you’re not my type”, the signal that the conversation was over, came in the form of a smile toward the brunette before you turned to face your friend. but eren wouldn't let that discourage him, and he’d just speak to the side of your face.

”they said you’d say that. but…just give me a chance”, his words would make you smirk, because their nature seemed brash, yet they had no air of confidence about them. uneasy green eyes would see you lean to whisper something to your friend, who’d laugh once she heard what you said.

”you can’t handle me, babe”, you challenged, straightening your posture and crossing your arms. a laugh would resound from beside you, as your friend examined eren’s dumbfounded expression.

that interaction would lead to your hands on a bathroom sink, gripping on for dear life. once bored with the flesh around your hips, one of eren’s hands would wrap around your torso to press on the bulge his dick was making in your stomach. his bottom lip would be between his teeth, as he bit back all the pleasure your own was causing him. to you, eren was fucking you with this much vigour as a means of proving something. but eren knew that the reason for his pace, was the fact that his daydreams had come into manifestation. displays his brain had aroused, every time he looked at you, were pressed against his chest, and reflected off the mirror in front of him. in fact, none of it would feel real if it wasn't for his daydream tightening around him in a way that his subconscious could never conceive.

any preconceived notions you had held about eren, had been fucked out of your brain, to spill into the basin underneath you. the ferocity of his thrusts was allowing no time for you to even think, or question the way you once thought of him. and, if pleasure wasn't securing your eyes shut, you would see that the man behind you had been in front of you all this time and you had made the mistake of bypassing him. at first, eren had asked you to meet his eyes in the mirror in front of you, to test your resolve. but the sound of your exposed ass cheeks meeting his hip bone, invited his attention to its origin. his eyes would invite his hand to join them, and it'd accept and move to massage, and slap at, the skin there—admiring the way it recoiled upon meeting his hand.

one of his hands would be on your jaw, and the sight of your skin meeting, inadvertently made him fuck you harder than he had ever intended to. the sight of it made his hips move faster to chase the release the sight of the ring at the base of his dick teased him with. but, in your mind, this man was fucking all his resentment toward you into your womb. weakness encompassed your every limb to the point where even the fingers holding on to your only support were beginning to cramp and give out. the dick was so good, you had forgotten who was fucking you, until you looked at him in the mirror. prince charming had developed a villainous streak, and you could feel it in your stomach. at that moment, there’s nothing you wanted more than to turn around and leave a trail of lip gloss stains starting on his face, moving to his neck, and making a pit stop on his thighs as you moved down to take his length in your mouth. aided by eren, those thoughts would edge you closer and closer to your end,

”shit, you’re so fucking tight for me, baby”, he said, groaning at the feeling of your walls squeezing his length.

”’rrren, i’m gonna cumm”, your back arched off his chest, as you heard your own moans bouncing off the bathroom tiles to slap you on any exposed skin eren wasn’t already holding.

”be a good girl and beg me for it.”, eren’s lips grazed against your ear, before he kissed your lobe—moving to kiss down the side of your neck, and bite down on it. his eyes would flicker to your reflection, and you’d see his lips smile around the skin they were covering. you wanted to maintain your facade of immovability so bad, but eren’s actions were only making you moan more.

”fff-fuck you”, you’d chide, gripping onto the porcelain even harsher, and cursing under your breath. eren would organise his lips into a pout as he feigned offence.

”that’s not very nice”, his face looked hurt, but his hastening hips suggested otherwise. eren wasn't just doing this to spite you, but to also get you closer to your end, so you'd concede faster,

”you bein’ real mean for someone who’s crying for more dick”, he began kissing on your neck again, biting harder this time. there was no time to be in pain, because it all just felt so good. this man barely knew you, but he understood your body in a way only a lover should.

”i’m not c-crying”, you said, and a smug scoff would leave eren's shining lips, before they'd wobble dramatically in imitation of your own. hiding your bottom lip in between your teeth, you'd look down at your feet in embarrassment. the eren you were seeing, differed so much from the eren you had known, that the knot in your stomach couldn't help but tighten. the only word to describe him, was ‘mean’. and you had to question if this was just an act but, looking at how his expressions didn’t change at seeing your teary eyes, you knew that this is who he'd always been. with this epiphany, you knew you'd become the one to chase him, as opposed to your dynamic thus far.

”y-you’re n-n-not?”, he mocked, copying your fucked out stutter, ”then what’s this, baby?”, he wiped a falling tear from your face, its resting place soon being occupied by a gentle kiss. that iota of kindness would coerce a blissful sigh from your lips.

”just say please, princess, and i’ll give it to you”, eren said, quietly. he had expected more backtalk, but he’d be surprised to find that your mouth would open to adhere without hesitation.

”pleasee”, you whined, blinking out more tears, and eren tsked before grabbing your jaw and turning you to face him,

”please what, baby?”, he said, placing a sweet kiss on your lips that almost erased the actions of the man behind you from your memory. but once you felt his eyes pierce through you when he pulled back, it'd all come flooding back. you’d obey, and the place his tip reached caused a raise in the volume of your voice.

”let me cummmm, pleaseee”, you said. a small smile would be on eren's face as he moved to place one more kiss on your forehead. then your wishes would be granted when he wrapped a hand around you to rub your clit. overstimulation to that degree had always been a myth to you, but it was hard to deny it when you could feel it dripping down your leg to trickle onto the floor beneath your bodies. an army of goosebumps was raised to attention all over you, but eren would be seemingly unphased by it. or, at least, that's what you'd initially thought. but, looking at his reflection, you could see the concentration his face, and you could feel his fingertips digging deeper into your skin, telling you that he was close too.

”gonna let me nut in you?”, he asked, against the heated skin on your neck, and you'd pose no contention. even if you hadn't been nodding furiously, your want for his nut was evident in the way you were moving back on him, using yourself to get him off.

”i need it, eren, pleaseee”, you crooned, drawing a prideful smirk from eren. the sight of you using your body to get him off, did half of the work for you. in fact, if you didn't feel so fucking good, it could've made him nut on its own.

”look how good you’re being for me”, his smirk touched your temple as he kissed it. desperation to please would move your head in a nod and, soon, the reward for your good behaviour would spread warmly inside you as eren held your hips to a standstill. his head would be rested on your shoulder, commencing a few seconds of quiet filled only by muffled music and heavy breaths. when eren did lift his head to watch you in the mirror, he'd see you still trying to catch your breath,

”y’know you’re easier to handle than you think”, he chortled, before you'd both be wincing at him pulling out of you.

© Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.

[unicoreads]

The fact that there are people out there saying GRRM should shut up about HIS opinion on HIS story, when they always seem to give us their opinions even though we never asked is INFUCKINGSANE!! 💀

First y’all try arguing with the man who CREATED this work of FICTION. Trying to make him wrong about HIS OWN SHIT because YOU can’t handle being wrong or not having your OPINION be right & embraced by the masses is mental 😭

Now y’all are saying my guy George should just stfu & keep his opinion to himself……. Babe I’m going to hold your hand when I said this, take your own advice -We the people would greatly appreciate it 🙂

Also to say he was “unprofessional” when he really wasn’t is the most diabolical way to dick ride Ryan & Sara (who treat us like fucking idiots, let’s be real their writing is so bad & some y’all just eat it up with no complaints like the simpletons they think we are🫤) GRRM could’ve talked shit before the season came out or as it was coming out, that would be unprofessional. Instead he waited till the season was over & it marinated with us all, him included, before stating his thoughts. Y’all love to share y’all thoughts but hate whenever somebody who thinks differently than you says something…..🤨

Another thing PLEASE stop fucking saying he needs to go write the next books, or that he’s doing everything but writing the next books. He doesn’t owe y’all shit, especially after seeing the way y’all are acting right now at this very moment. Just a bunch of ungrateful miserable assholes who love spreading hate onto others 🤦‍♀️ If that man decides to never release those books it HIS RIGHT!!! Being an author and writer is not easy. Writing a book is not easy!! If you think it is, then how about you go & do it 🤔

Go on, wander over to a computer and write a best selling SERIES.

[dystopyx-blog]

what do you think of yandere azul?

I think his yandere typing is a mix of possessive and manipulative. Like manipulative should be pretty obvious. Mr. Contract Man. Absolutely the type to pull some shady underhanded deals if that’s what it takes to get you close to him. Because, as I’ve said, he’s also possessive. You are HIS.

you two probably have a bit of a slow burn. No love at first sight for him. In fact, he really doesn’t think much of you at all. All he’s focused on is how you can benefit him. Eventually, during the events of octavinelle, he starts to realize how much he underestimated you, how smart you are. He assumed you’d be as dumb as the idiots you surround yourself with (Ace, Deuce, Grim). But you’re not. You’re probably more on the level with Azul himself. In fact, the only thing holding you back (in his opinion) is your emotions. He decides he’ll help you. Help you realize your friends are beneath you and you could be doing something much more with your life. Like helping him. Afterall, he owes you after the overblot, right? He has the tweels follow you around when he can’t. And not just stalking (if only it were just that), they get up close and personal. The whole point is to seperate you from your other “undeserving” friends, right? So they get involved. One tweel on either side. Floyd scares off most folks, but if someone does get too close, Jade handles it from there. I’m sure you quickly get sick of it. You confront the tweels, but they insinuate (cuz of course they don’t give it to you easy) that they’re just taking orders. So you march your fine self straight to Azul and…

He finds you utterly adorable. You want the tweels off your back? Okay. Then spend more time with Azul. You’re scheming and planning, meanwhile Azul is trying to remember why he’s doing this?

He’s been slowly developing his yandere-ness, but it’s in spending time with you where his romantic attraction actually amps up. He can see why those fools in Heartslabyul are so fond of you now. With each forced hangout, he insists on more and more. And each one gets more and more date-like. Until he’s straight up calling them dates and brushing you off if you try to say anything about it. You two are practically already dating, right? The rest of the school certainly thinks so! (Thanks to the help from some well placed rumors by the tweels)

I mentioned he’s possessive, yeah? No longer will the tweels accompany you, he does it himself. Hand in hand. if you won’t take his hand, fine, he’ll sling his coat over your shoulders so everyone knows :). He views you on par with his precious contracts! Really, you should feel honored. If he could keep you locked up he would! (He’s working on it.) You are HIS little angelfish, he’s really just trying to find the perfect tank to show you off in tbh.

Deuce: you never hang out with us anymore :( Ace: yeah, you’re different now that you have a boyfriend. You: I DO NOT HAVE A BOYFRIEND

Oh, how you wound Azul with your words! Clearly someone needs a few more dates to realize who they belong to ❤️

editing now that I’ve been awake longer (this was one of the first things I did after waking up lmao)

He’s interested at you at first for your brains, becomes more interested because of your heart, gets obsessed because of your kindness, even to him. The possession comes from how fucking nice you are to him, even as he does manipulate you. Sure, you give him sass and snark (fuel for the flames tbh), but you’re honest and open with compliments. Reassuring him he’s beautiful, somehow always at the exact times he needs it most. You make all three hearts thump.