#and it turned it pastel pink and it rocks

[platsicbeach]

i am so cute . rly feeling this accidental pastel pink btw

[jimxnslight]

Fool's Gold || Part I

Summary: Sweet Y/N, with her fluffy pastel dresses, soft makeup, and ditzy mannerisms. She’s seen as a fool in a world where there is no place for such things, but little do they know, the only fools are them.

Pairing: mafia leader!Jungkook x mafia leader's daughter!reader

Genre: mafia au, arranged marriage au

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: most warnings associated with mafia fics (e.g. violence, blood, etc), additional warnings might be added as the story progresses

<< masterlist || next part >>

“I heard that she’s a complete airhead.”

Jungkook’s expensive shoes smacked against the pristine white and gold marble floors as he continued to walk through the lavish hallway, hands disappearing behind his pockets while his steps were slow and confident. Most would think he was choosing to ignore the comment, but his closest friend knew better than to rush a man as calculating as Jungkook. 

Instead, Taehyung strolled alongside him, taking in the glittering chandeliers looming over their heads and the intricate designs carved into the white walls that were much too traditional for his taste. Jungkook and Taehyung were nowhere near out of place in the sea of extravagance with their custom suits and shiny black dress shoes. Taehyung, the more simple of the two, had his brown hair parted and pushed back to reveal a blemish free forehead while his grey and black suit complimented the grey specks in his brown irises. 

On the other hand, Jungkook’s black on black outfit adorned two expensive cufflinks and a gold brooch attached to his lapel. Taehyung’s gaze dropped to his black hair, which he noticed had grown in the past month. 

When Taehyung realised that Jungkook wasn’t going to speak, he decided to fill the silence. 

“Like apparently she’s huge on wearing pink and frilly stuff -which I guess is just a girl thing- but still, this is a mafia not a tea party.”

He paused, waiting for his comrade to offer his thoughts, but was met with silence once again. 

“I’ve also heard she’s dumber than a pile of rocks. Barely passed high school and then dropped out of university not even a month in. Her major wasn’t even that hard. Commerce, was it?”

Taehyung’s eyebrows furrowed as Jungkook continued to lengthen the silence. 

“And as you already must know, she was also married about a year ago but then was widowed after her husband was killed by a rival gang on the same day. Even though their marriage didn’t even last a full 24 hours, she had been so traumatised by the whole thing that apparently she didn’t even speak for an entire month after the ordeal. Can you imagine how much of a princess she must be for a simple death to shake her that much? She must be a real- come on man, how long are you going to make me go on?”

Jungkook turned his head to offer him a sly grin, “I was wondering when you would reach your limit.”

Taehyung gave him a halfhearted punch to the arm, “you’re such a jerk. Answer my question man. I’m dying to know what she’s actually like.”

He followed Jungkook as he turned into another hallway, curious as to what he thought of her, but his answer had him staring at Jungkook incredulously. 

“I don’t know.”

Taehyung faltered in his step, gaping at the back of the man who continued through the hallway nonchalantly. When the weight of his answer finally processed completely in Taehyung’s mind, he ran forward so that he could walk alongside his friend once again. 

“I think you misunderstood my question,” Taehyung tried again slowly, “I want to know about Lee Y/N, you know, your soon to be wife? The one you’re about to marry right now?”

“What is there to know?” Jungkook commented, mind occupied with a topic of much more importance, “a marriage with her will allow for the unification of two powerful mafia families and will also allow for an heir to be born. Is that not the whole point of marriages for individuals like us?”

“Well yeah, but there’s no harm in getting to know her at least a little bit. Did you even hear about the ‘dumb as rocks’ part when I was rambling?”

“That will only make her easier to control,” he deadpanned.

“Fine, whatever. Is she at least pretty?”

Taehyung’s eyes widened even more when Jungkook didn’t respond, “please tell me you’ve met her at least once. Oh my god, have you even looked at a picture of her?” 

Jungkook's silence was all Taehyung needed to know that the answer was, in fact, no,” I knew I shouldn’t have gone out of the country! My parents kept telling me everything would be fine and they’d take care of the whole thing but you haven’t even met her once? I should’ve made my return flight earlier, then I could’ve-”

Taehyung’s voice faltered as he noticed Jungkook’s distant expression, causing his brows to furrow. He wasn’t listening to a word he was saying, which wasn’t something entirely out of the ordinary, but it usually wasn’t this bad. He sighed as he shifted his gaze to the expensive hall before him. 

“Is this about the Parks?” He asked, noticing his friend’s focus return.

“It’s the Parks and the Mins,” Jungkook admitted, “ever since their alliance, they’ve been getting bold. They made a move on our West docks last week and would have been successful in seizing them if it weren’t for the blackmail I managed to procure at the last minute. But that won’t hold them off for long.”

Taehyung’s head tilted to the side, “you’ve always enjoyed a challenge. Why’s this bothering you so much?”

Jungkook turned into another hallway to finally come face to face with a large pair of grandiose double doors that towered over them. The two men came to a stop, aware that their conversation was now on a timer. 

“I just… have an uneasy feeling,” he said, unable to reveal anymore to Taehyung. He couldn’t bring himself to tell his best friend what he had really witnessed when he visited the docks yesterday.

Taehyung, clueless to Jungkook’s inner turmoil, slapped him on the back, lightening the mood with a grin, “come on man, this is your wedding. You’ll figure everything out later, for now just relax. You deserve it.”

Before he could protest, Taehyung shoved the double doors open to reveal an enormous and crowded wedding hall. The white and gold marble floor stretched across the entire room, while multiple diamonds came together to form a giant chandelier that hung over the hundreds of tables that had been decorated with shiny silverware and pristine white roses. The people were just as decorated as the furniture, with their elegant gowns and glamorous jewellery. 

At the sound of the doors opening, the once chattering crowd silenced, opting to sneak glances at Jungkook and his friend instead. Hushed whispers echoed around the hall as Jungkook straightened his back and held his head high before making his way to the centre of the room. Behind him, Taehyung took his place, his outgoing and extroverted personality tucked away to look just as regal and intimidating as the groom. The crowd began gathering on either side of the aisle, clearly excited for the bride who had been scheduled to appear any second now. 

Most men’s hearts would be racing during a time like this, Jungkook thought distantly, eyes focused on the aisle as well. Marriage to others was supposed to symbolise unwavering love and devotion. But not for him. For him marriage was simply a contract, a means to an end that he hoped would lessen the burden of a number of challenges. In a world like this, there was no such thing as love. 

Only power. 

The sound of the double doors opening pulled him from his thoughts, with two professionally dressed workers fixing them on either side so that they remained open this time. Jungkook watched a pair of women in what seemed like light pink bridesmaid dresses trail behind two girls who couldn’t have been more than five throwing white and light pink flower petals in the air. Behind the entourage was a figure drenched in white. 

You walked slowly into the room, your glimmering white dress trailing behind you as a thick white veil draped over your face and the front of your dress. Jungkook could only make out your hands clutching a small bouquet of white roses while your arm looped around your father’s, who was slowly guiding you down the aisle. Despite the aid, he couldn’t help but notice an uneasiness to your steps and a slight shake in your hands. 

The crowd’s gaze stayed fixed on your figure, drinking in the Jeon Jungkook’s soon to be wife. There were some gasps of astonishment at the beauty of your dress and figure, while there were some gasps of jealousy towards the woman who was taking Jungkook off the market. You didn’t seem to pay them any attention as your head stayed fixed in front of you, focusing on not falling as you continued through the aisle. 

To Jungkook, it felt like years had passed before you finally reached the small steps leading to the stage he was standing on, your bridesmaids taking their places on the opposite side of where Taehyung was standing. Your father unlooped his arm from yours and stepped back to sit on one of the seats that had been reserved for him, leaving you to hesitantly step onto the stage yourself. Your heel wobbled as you brought your foot forward and Jungkook knew exactly what would happen before it did. 

He watched your heel slip sideways, causing you to careen to your right under the heaviness of your dress. But before you could crash into the large pots of white roses, Jungkook shot forward so that his hand could grab your waist, hoisting you up to prevent you from falling. The crowd swooned at the gesture, murmuring about its romantic nature, though all Jungkook could wonder was how you’ve been surviving in a mafia family for so long. Taehyung had only said you were dumb, not a complete klutz too. 

He could feel the warmth of your delicate hand on his shoulder as he guided you up the steps, only letting go of you once the two of you were facing the patiently waiting priest. Once he had motioned for everyone to sit, he began his sermon in an obnoxiously boring voice. Jungkook had no particular interest in paying attention to a speech he had listened to multiple times growing up. Instead, he took the chance to survey you briefly. With your veil still hiding your face, he could only take in your perfect figure and pristine skin. 

Eventually, the priest asked you to remove your veil, to which you complied slowly. Taehyung came forward, offering to take the bouquet in your hands while your bridesmaids helped you hesitantly lift the soft white cloth over your head. 

A wave of hushed whispers spread throughout the crowd at the sight of your face, one that caught Jungkook off guard. Your eyes had been lined with a light liner, while your lips and cheeks had been made to look dainty. Your hair fell from the top of your head to your shoulders, styled in a way that framed your features and neck. Jungkook noticed a small silver necklace in the shape of a heart resting against your exposed collarbone. 

Your makeup made you look so innocent and… young. Jungkook almost wanted to pull Taehyung’s parents aside and confirm that you really were twenty three and not some nineteen year old. It was a bit of a turn off, he realised, slightly bothered by the fact. As a twenty six year old, he obviously wasn’t into teenagers, so he didn’t know what having a wife that looked like one was going to do for him. 

Then again, he wasn’t marrying you for some kind of gratification. He was marrying you because he needed to form a strong alliance between your father’s gang and his so that he could be, or at the very least appear, stronger than the Mins and Parks. You were nothing more than a path to more power and, aside from upholding his responsibilities as a husband, he would treat you as such.

As the priest continued to drone on, Jungkook continued to analyse your form. He watched your eyes stay focused on the priest before they strayed, hesitantly landing on Jungkook for a split second. When you noticed his gaze already on you, a small squeak sounded from your lips before you quickly shifted your focus forward. With the bouquet of flowers now hanging from Taehyung’s hand, your own fingers were clasped awkwardly in front of you. 

You were apparently everything Taehyung had painted you as earlier, Jungkook thought. Your makeup and mannerisms had an air of exaggerated innocence, while your body language was shy and sheepish. He had no problem imagining you as a weak girl that was so traumatised by the death of your first husband that you couldn’t utter a single word the following month. 

The priest turned to the seated crowd, beckoning anyone that had an issue with the marriage to step forward and speak their mind. Just as Jungkook expected, no one dared make a stand, preferring to cherish the connection between their head and neck instead. Following the silence, you and Jungkook were made to stand facing each other.

Your gaze was fixed on his collar, seemingly too shy to meet Jungkook’s eyes. It only confirmed his suspicions regarding your confidence, or lack thereof. 

Yet, despite your evidently timid nature and lack of intelligence, Jungkook couldn’t help but experience an uncanny feeling lingering at the back of his mind. Perhaps it was his untrusting nature, or maybe he had just been forced to over analyse you during the long and boring sermon. But he could have sworn that there was something about you. Just… something about the way you had trouble meeting his gaze yet seemed to have no problem in scanning Taehyung up and down. For a fraction of a moment, the look in your eyes was almost calculated, as if you had been assessing him. But just as fast as Jungkook thought he saw it, the look disappeared, replaced by a timid and shy gaze once again. It left him questioning whether he had even seen it in the first place, or whether he was letting paranoia see things that weren’t there. 

Finally, the priest turned to the two of you and made you both say your vows outloud. They were the standard vows, Jungkook and you putting no effort in creating a confession that you both knew was ingenuine. Instead, the two of you repeated after him, answering “I do” when the time was right. Jungkook was glad that, despite your seemingly ditzy nature, you hadn’t requested any giant romantic gestures. According to your father, you had even had no problem with Jungkook requesting that there be no kiss at the altar. It made his life a lot easier and truthfully made this entire situation a lot less awkward.

To Jungkook’s relief, the priest finally addressed the crowd once more, ending the sermon on a final note filled with hope and prosperity. He spoke about how the marriage would strengthen the two mafias, mitigating worries relating to attacks from enemies that may wish to harm them. Jungkook had already expected this part of the speech, as he had been the one to tell the priest to say those exact words. 

At the end of the sermon, Jungkook and you were made to walk down the aisle back to where he knew his expensive car was waiting. He turned to you, looping his arm around yours so that you wouldn’t fall again, and guided you down the steps slowly. He noticed that your every step was still wobbly and he could feel your hand shaking as you placed it on his bicep to steady yourself further. But this time, with the veil now draped behind you, he could see the distress in your face as well. Your eyes were wide as you took in the crowd surrounding you, looking as naive as Taehyung had made you out to be. 

Jungkook tried to remind himself of Taehyung’s words. About how you had barely been able to pass high school and then completely dropped out of university a month in. About how your style consisted of pink and frilly clothes that didn’t have much place in the mafia. About how, at this moment, you seemed almost scared of the crowd and attention. 

A girl like that was shy and naive and ditzy. Aside from being slightly irritating, that meant you couldn’t be much of a threat to him or anyone else. If anything your incompetence would be a threat to your own self. Jungkook had nothing to worry about when it came to you. 

So he tried not to be unsettled. 

He tried not to be unsettled by the fact that, despite your apparently innocent and weak nature, your fingers were gripping into his bicep so hard he would no doubt wake up with a bruise tomorrow morning. 

He tried not to be unsettled by the way your shy gaze, which stayed fixed on the floor, would sometimes stray upwards to almost study the crowd around you before quickly darting back to the ground. 

He tried not to be unsettled when you looked up at him to give him a bashful smile, one that the logical part of him agreed looked sweet and innocent enough.

Yet, why did another part of him wonder whether there had been something else lurking behind those seemingly innocent eyes?

-

-

-

The only thing that Jungkook had learned about you from the car ride was that your voice was as light and soft as your appearance. 

The ride in his black car decorated with gleaming small white roses and ribbons had been mostly silent, the two of you making no effort to start a conversation. Jungkook had never been one for small talk, more than content to let Taehyung talk for hours instead. The reason for your lack of conversation, though, was unknown to him. 

It was only when he was speeding through the highway that you had spoken to request that he slow down a bit. Your voice had been soft and timid, as if you were scared that Jungkook would lash out at you for the simple request. Or maybe that was just the way you spoke. Considering your personality, Jungkook wouldn’t find that too hard to believe.

Now the two of you walked through the entrance of his home, your eyes taking in the grandeur of it all. Despite its vastness, Jungkook felt that this was where he felt the most comfortable: between the white and fawn walls, the elaborately designed bannisters, and the creme marble floors. His home had remained the only constant in his life and, because of that, he cherished it immensely. 

There were only a few people that Jungkook had allowed inside, all of whom were people that he trusted with his life. This was the first time, he realised, that someone outside of those few was stepping foot onto the marble floor and laying their eyes on the spiralling staircase. It was an odd feeling, allowing you to enter into what he felt was the only place that truly allowed his mind and body to relax. 

He observed your reaction curiously, taking in your wide eyes. They bounced from one thing to the next, each structure seeming to fascinate you more and more. He still couldn’t shake off the feeling that you were assessing the space, but the logical part of him kept trying to reassure himself that you couldn’t possibly be considered any kind of threat. 

The sound of the door opening behind him pulled him from his thoughts. He turned around to find Taehyung walking through the doorway, a particular look on his face. Jungkook recognised it right away, causing him to turn to you for a moment while calling over one of the maids. 

“Get her to the bedroom,” Jungkook commanded the maid as Taehyung stepped beside him, “and help her take off her makeup and dress into something comfortable.”

The maid nodded before she began to guide you up the flight of stairs, pointing out a few directions here and there to get you comfortable with the new environment. Jungkook watched you look back at him and Taehyung for a split second, an unreadable look in your eyes, before you faced forward once again and allowed yourself to be dragged away wordlessly. 

Once you had disappeared up the stairs, Jungkook turned to Taehyung with a raised eyebrow.

“Well?” He prodded. 

Taehyung glanced at the top of the stairs to make sure you really were gone, “I should be asking you that. What do you think of her?”

Jungkook mulled over his question for a moment, “she seems to be everything you said she is. Although, are you sure-”

“She is one hundred percent twenty three years old. I triple checked that one,” Taehyung said immediately, hands up in a gesture of surrender. 

Jungkook let his hands nestle into his pockets, wondering if he should bring up his other concerns as well. Uptil now, you haven’t actually done or said anything worth garnering suspicion. Jungkook just seemed to be picking up on small things here and there, but he wasn’t sure if those things were just him being paranoid or genuinely things that he should be cautious over. This whole marriage thing was proving to be a lot more confusing than he had initially thought. 

“What is it?” Taehyung asked, noticing his friend’s silence. Jungkook hesitated for a moment, but, after earning a questioning look from Taehyung, he relented slightly. 

“How well of a background check did your parents do on her?” Jungkook asked cautiously. He didn’t want Taehyung to know too much of how he was feeling at the moment, in case this was just his mind being overactive, but something in Taehyung’s expression seemed to indicate that he knew a lot more than what Jungkook was letting on. 

“They did a very thorough one, of course,” Taehyung said, eyeing Jungkook knowingly, “you know my parents. If there’s one thing that they’re the best at, it’s uncovering people’s secrets.”

Then he added with a smile, “couldn’t get away with much while growing up because of it.”

Jungkook let his gaze wander around the room, “I just…”

“You’re just suspicious of her,” Taehyung finished, causing Jungkook to look his way, “of course you’re suspicious Jungkook, you’re letting a girl that you’ve never even met before into your house for the first time. It’s a natural reaction, especially considering how untrusting we’ve been conditioned to be since we were young.”

Taehyung clapped Jungkook on the back reassuringly, “I was the exact same way when I married Chaewon. Hell, in our first year of being married I even accused her of being a traitor when she was planning a surprise party for my birthday. When she finally told me… man, it took me a whole year to make it up to her. On another note, from a married man to a newly married man, don’t accuse your wife of anything unless you’re a hundred and ten percent sure of it. Otherwise you’ll never hear the end of it.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, causing Taehyung to laugh.

“Besides, have you seen Y/N? She’s so shy and naive, her own reflection in the mirror must frighten her. I doubt you have anything to worry about, especially after my parents’ background check. Just enjoy yourself, man, it’s your wedding night,” Taehyung said with a knowing smirk. 

Obviously ignoring the suggestive comment, Jungkook nodded, finding logic in Taehyung’s other words. Jungkook had never been married, all of this was new to him. But if Taehyung, who had been married for almost a decade, said feelings like this were normal, then maybe he really was just being overly paranoid about the situation. You’d had a thorough background check done, which revealed nothing, and your personality was quite clear to Jungkook after he’d observed you at the wedding. 

It was time Jungkook started trying to enjoy this marriage as much as he could. He was going to be stuck with you indefinitely, and constantly being suspicious of you was only going to wear him out, especially since you now had access to the only place he allowed himself to be free of the constantly vigilant and calculating mind that came with being the leader of the Jeons. 

Jungkook turned to Taehyung, about to thank him for the insight, but the sound of the door opening once again caused the two to shift their gaze to behind them. The sight of the man walking through the doorway immediately had Jungkook wrinkling his nose in distaste while Taehyung’s expression had become a distant neutral. The man didn’t seem to mind the reactions if he noticed them, casually strolling deeper into the house until he was standing before the two. 

“Jungkook, Taehyung,” Daehyun nodded, the respectful gesture somehow seeming more disrespectful if anything. He had clearly just come back from the wedding, still wearing his black suit and light brown hair styled back, “you just got married, yet I see only Taehyung and no bride. Shall I assume the two of you are running away together?”

The tasteless joke was followed by a deep laugh, one that belonged to neither Jungkook nor Taehyung. Instead they just stared at him with an unamused scowl.

“Relax, it’s only a joke,” he shook his head, gaze wandering the place casually, “I doubt your wife and kid would like the thought of that anyway.”

Taehyung’s jaw ticked at Daehyun’s words. Even if he hadn’t directly threatened or disrespected them in any way, just the mention of his family from his mouth was enough for Taehyung’s gaze to turn icy.

“Careful Daehyun, you’re standing before two mafia leaders,” Taehyung said, voice low and intimidating, “I would be less casual in our presence if I were you.”

To Taehyung and Jungkook’s dismay, Daehyun simply chuckled, “ah yes, but Jungkook and I are cousins. He’ll cut me some slack, won’t he?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, even after Daehyun gave his arm a lighthearted punch. Daehyun was the cousin that Jungkook could never be rid of, no matter how badly he wanted to. He was slimy and tactless and everything Jungkook hated rolled into one unbearable being. Having to give him access to his home, his only place of peace, had been one of the hardest things to do. But at the time, Jungkook had had to make sacrifices and this had been one of them. 

Daehyun, undeterred by his cousin’s lack of response, leaned his arm on Jungkook’s shoulder casually, “congratulations by the way. When I saw your wife’s face- god did she look young! You’re so lucky man, I hope my future wife turns out like that.”

Jungkook grimaced as he suddenly felt the desire to wipe off any remnants of Daehyun’s touch from his suit. Daehyun had attended the same university as Taehyung and Jungkook, yet he had evidently obtained none of the class that they had. Everyday he wondered how the two of them could possibly be related. For the sake of Jungkook’s mental wellbeing, sometimes he liked to imagine Daehyun had actually been adopted and his parents had simply decided not to share that piece of information. 

“I should get going,” Jungkook said stiffly, brushing his cousin’s arm off his shoulder. He fixed his suit as Daehyung smirked at him, likely thinking of Jungkook’s comment as more suggestive than he had actually meant. 

Jungkook faced Taehyung to give him a curt nod before he turned and began walking up the stairs, not bothering to use the fawn iron bannisters on either side of him. He could hear Taehyung taking his leave through the front door, dragging a complaining Daehyun behind him to Jungkook’s satisfaction. The sound of the front door shutting had never sounded so delightful. 

A silence ensued as Jungkook walked through the hallway upstairs, continuing until he paused in front of his bedroom’s door. He couldn’t hear any noises coming from inside the room, so, with a light knock against the white and fawn wood, his hand wrapped around the handle to turn it and finally push the door open. 

The windows displayed an almost set sun, coating the atmosphere in a blanket of dimness. Everything about his bedroom had been changed. His once dark brown and white bed had been switched out for a cream and fawn coloured one, with a bouquet of vibrant red roses sitting atop the fancy and plush duvet, while his black leather couches had been replaced by light cloth ones. The ceiling and walls had been painted white, complimenting the new white and fawn patterned marble floor. His old dresser had also disappeared, a cream coloured dresser twice its size sitting in its place instead. 

Aside from the drastic changes that had been made to his bedroom, no doubt to signify the change that came with marriage, the first thing Jungkook noticed was the maid who was drawing the curtains closed. The room would have fallen into complete darkness if it weren’t for the lamps sitting atop the bedside tables which were emanating a warm light around the space. 

The second thing he noticed was you, who was sitting timidly on the edge of the bed and facing him. Your fingers were playing awkwardly in front of you while your gaze had been fixed on the floor, but at the sound of the door opening, your head raised to look at Jungkook. The sight of your face once again caught him off guard, the lack of makeup revealing a different side of you. 

You no longer looked young. Without the innocent look that had been created with the blushes and the eyeliners and the lip glosses, Jungkook could see the mature shape of your eyes and the defined look of your features. You looked your age now, a lot more maturity prominent in your appearance. 

You were pretty. Jungkook could admit that much now that you didn’t resemble a teenager. He wondered why you had done your makeup like that in the first place. He’d been to many weddings before and none of the brides had been made to look so young. Then again, Taehyung had already told him that, on top of looking innocent and naive, you seemed to dress the part as well. 

“Is something wrong?” Your soft voice asked, eyes blinking innocently up at him. 

Jungkook shook his head, motioning for the maid to leave the room. She gave you both a low bow before scurrying out the doorway, making sure to close the door behind her. 

“No,” he finally answered. For the first time in a long time he wasn’t entirely sure what to do. He wasn’t sure if you were expecting anything to happen tonight, or if you even wanted anything to happen for now. 

His gaze lowered as he mulled over his next actions. You had changed out of your wedding dress into a light pink, mesh lace nightgown that came all the way down to your knees with a silk bow stitched into the centre of your chest, as if your clothes were meant to compensate for the lack of makeup dolling up your features. He almost wanted to raise an eyebrow at you, but you seemed much too fragile to be ridiculed. 

Alternatively, he decided to take an experimental step in your direction, surveying your reaction closely. He watched your fingers close tighter around the duvet on which you sat, your gaze hesitantly darting everywhere but him. That was answer enough for him to know how far you were ready to take it tonight. So instead, he passed the bed, opting instead to drop onto the couch on the far end of the room. While he was facing you, you had to turn your head to keep him in your sights. 

“What would you like to do now?” He asked you, resting an arm over the back of the couch while he crossed an ankle over his knee. 

Your gaze dropped to your lap, watching your fingers fidget against each other nervously. It was almost as if having to answer a question like that had you stressed, which again made Jungkook wonder how you had survived growing up in a mafia family. How could you have been this weak?

“I-I don’t know,” you squeaked, not able to meet his gaze. 

Jungkook sighed, turning his head to the side to survey the room. Technically, the two of you could just call it a night and go to sleep. You were clearly too shy to even speak a word to him, and Jungkook had never been one to beg others for things. Only time would tell how well the two of you would get to know each other. 

But then Jungkook’s gaze dropped to the coffee table in front of him, noticing some sort of gift basket placed in its centre. It was obviously a wedding gift, filled with chocolates, scented candles, roses… and some wine and champagne. Jungkook has always been more of a whiskey guy, but right now he’d take just about anything. 

“Why don’t we have a drink?” He suggested, uncrossing his leg so that he could lean forward and grab the top of the expensive-looking bottle of red wine. He prayed you weren’t one of those people that didn’t drink, your innocent personality couldn’t possibly extend all the way to drinking as well. 

You paused for a moment, taking in the bottle in Jungkook’s hand, before slowly nodding your head, to Jungkook’s relief. 

He beckoned you over with his free hand, “come here.”

You hesitated before slowly pushing yourself off the bed and took small steps towards him. Jungkook waited patiently until you were standing right in front of the couch, hands clasped shyly in front of you while your gaze stayed glued to the floor. He held up the bottle of wine and champagne in front of you, hoping you weren’t so dumb that you wouldn’t understand the question in his actions. Thankfully you studied the two bottles before a shaky hand raised and tapped against the bottle of champagne. 

He pushed the bottle in your direction, forcing you to take it in your own hands, before standing up from the couch. The unexpected action seemed to scare you, causing you to immediately take a timid step backwards while you hugged the bottle to your chest. Jungkook had to suppress a tired, and maybe even slightly annoyed sigh, as he manoeuvred past you. He was trying to be patient, but this was becoming ridiculous. 

“You get that open while I wash up,” he said to you, pointing at the bottle still pressed to your chest, “okay?”

You nodded slowly, allowing him to turn away from you and walk into the joint bathroom. Once the door was closed behind him he let out the sigh he had suppressed earlier. You really were… something. He couldn’t believe he had been suspicious of you earlier when you could barely even function properly, much less be any sort of threat. It was irritating, Jungkook felt, to have someone so incompetent for a wife. He wondered if he would have to break you out of that shell. You were the wife of a mafia leader now after all, you had to keep up at least some air of confidence in the presence of others so that you didn’t make him look weak. 

Jungkook walked over to the sink and turned it on, splashing some cold water on his face before he began brushing his teeth. You were far from his ideal type, and he doubted this marriage would ever stem into whatever Taehyung and Chaewon had going on. Hell, he was wondering how the two of you could ever even produce an heir. You’d probably spontaneously combust if he even tried to touch you. And besides, he didn’t really want to touch you if he was being honest. You reminded him too much of a weak and helpless child, which was obviously a huge turn off. He may have been a mafia leader, but he wasn’t a complete monster. 

Jungkook placed his toothbrush into the holder after spitting into the sink, drying himself off with one of the towels hanging near him. He was about to start changing into more comfortable clothes, only getting as far as unbuttoning the first few buttons of his black collar shirt, before a crashing sound rang from the bedroom. In less than a second he had pushed out of the bathroom, immediately scanning the bedroom before him as his hand automatically sought out the gun at his side. 

It took him a moment to realise the lack of intruders in the room, and then another to take in your completely unharmed form. You were standing with your hands covering your mouth, looking down at the ground. Jungkook followed your gaze to find the champagne bottle rolling along the marble floor, still entirely intact. You had clearly dropped the thing accidentally, causing Jungkook to place his gun back in his waistband.

“I’m s-so sorry,” you squeaked, bending down quickly to pick up the bottle. Suppressing a huff, Jungkook walked over to you to take it from your hands. 

“Here, let me do it,” he said, taking two of the crystal champagne flutes from the gift basket and placing them on the glass coffee table as he sat himself down on the couch, distantly annoyed at the fact that you couldn’t even pour a glass of champagne by yourself. Was this seriously what he was going to have to deal with from now on?

He tipped the bottle, filling both glasses to the brim with the bubbling liquid as you hesitantly sat yourself down on the couch to his left. His gaze fell on you as he was about to offer you one of the flutes, but paused when he noticed the look on your face. For the first time since he met you, you looked almost… excited. Usually your eyes would be downturned and focused on the floor, but this time they were fixed on the crystal glasses before you as if you were eager to taste the expensive liquid. Jungkook made a note of it, tucking it into the back of his mind for later. 

“Take one,” he said as he motioned towards one of the glasses, but to his surprise you hesitantly shook your head. Your expression had turned timid once again, any hint of excitement from earlier entirely gone. He narrowed his eyes at you as he wondered if he had just imagined it. It had barely been there anyway. 

“I don’t drink,” you said in your signature soft tone, not able to meet his gaze. Of course you don’t, Jungkook thought irritatedly, god forbid the princess touch a glass of champagne. He knew the thought was immature, but there was no way he was the most immature person in the room at the moment. 

He pushed himself off the couch, very much aware that his patience was starting to wear thin, “well then I guess we should call it a night.”

But before he could step towards the bed, your hand shot out, clutching the edge of his sleeve with your fingers. He immediately looked down at your still seated form, a question in his eyes. You had to look away for a moment, seemingly collecting your nerves, before you met his gaze once again. 

“Just because I don’t drink doesn’t mean you can’t,” you said, “I don’t want you not to enjoy yourself because of me. Please stay.”

Jungkook noticed the evident guilt in your eyes as your fingers continued to stay enclosed around the edge of his sleeve. When he didn’t move, you hesitantly leaned forward to gently pick up one of the glasses and then slowly presented it to him. His gaze shifted to the glass in your hand, pausing for only a moment, before he took it from you. He let himself sink back onto the couch as he studied you. 

You continued to sit in your spot on the sofa, posture still timid. Your gaze bounced from one part of the floor to the next, while your expression remained shy. But there was something else lurking behind the expression. If Jungkook focused well enough, he could have sworn the edges of your lips were turned slightly upwards. It was so faint that it might have not even been there, but the more he focused, the more prominent it became to him. 

A naive part of him might have thought it was from being successful in getting him to stay and have the drink, but the more logical part of him had already latched onto an idea, one that refused to be swept to the side any longer. 

His gaze lowered to your collarbone, a glint from the heart-shaped necklace resting over your soft skin catching his attention. Unlike earlier, he noticed that the metal heart was actually a locket, and that its two sides were slightly open. It couldn’t have been ajar by more than a millimetre, but Jungkook still noted it down in his mind.

His gaze then ascended to your face, still a perfect picture of innocence. Your eyes were widened to resemble a curious doe, while your lips were pulled into a timid line. The hands resting in your lap fumbled with each other shyly, really completing the look. 

Finally, his gaze dropped to the drink in his hand. He brought it closer to his face, as if he were about to take a sip, before eyeing the expensive liquid. His gaze fixed on the miniscule bubbles that continued travelled from the bottom of the flute to its surface, causing it to sizzle.

Jungkook slowly leaned forward, keeping his eye on his drink as he brought it away from his lips and instead calmly set it down on the coffee table before him. He then easily pushed himself off of the couch, which caused your brows to jump. There was an apparent question in your expression, one you decided to voice out loud. 

“Is something wrong with the drink?” You asked, voice still soft as your doe eyes looked up at him through your lashes. 

Ignoring the question, Jungkook placed a hand on the edge of the coffee table and slowly pushed it forward so that it was farther away from your seated form. The action caused you to blink. 

“Is everything okay?” You tried again slowly.

But Jungkook then faced you, assessing you for a moment, before he took a few steps in your direction. You had to crane your neck upwards to continue meeting his gaze, his tall form towering over your seated one. This time your brows pulled together, eyes still doe-like, as you continued to question his actions. 

“Jungko-”

Jungkook didn’t let you finish. The second you opened your mouth his large hand suddenly shot out and grabbed your neck, slamming your head into the seat of the couch. You squeaked at the sudden violence, immediately clawing at the fingers now enclosed around your throat. But your efforts were nothing in comparison to Jungkook’s iron hold. 

“J-Jungkook, you’re h-hurting me!” You let out a choked cry, continuing to put up a weak fight against Jungkook. Tears had already started to coat your eyes and run down your cheeks, but Jungkook ignored them completely. He watched you struggle, fascinated by the way you thrashed around like an animal yet every jab at him was weak and ineffective. There was no sign of the strength he had noticed when you had grabbed onto his bicep earlier, so hard that he was sure it would leave a bruise. It was enough to make him grin.

Jungkook lowered his face so that his lips neared your ear, his body still hovering over your smaller form. 

“If you wanted to kill me princess, you’ll have to do a better job than that,” he said, voice low. Your eyes widened even further as you continued to struggle against him, making pitiful noises that didn’t move him in the slightest. 

“K-Kill?! What are y-you talking about?!” You continued to choke out as tears streamed down your cheeks. Your hands had moved to his chest, desperately trying to push him away, yet failing miserably in the process. Jungkook tilted his head at your weak plea, eager to hear what other ways you’d beg him to let you go.

 “P-please-” You began, but then cut yourself off abruptly when your tear-filled gaze met his. You must have seen something in his eyes, because he felt your body slacken, no longer desperate to fight him despite his hold on your neck cutting off your lung’s supply of air. 

Instead you studied him, really studied him. He could see the same calculated look you had used on Taehyung earlier during the wedding. It was as if you were assessing Jungkook, picking out his strengths and weaknesses to figure out how you could use them to your advantage. He watched you weigh options in your head patiently before you finally tilted your head to the side calmly and shot him a look. In response, Jungkook decided to loosen his grip on your throat. He watched you catch your breath for a moment before you spoke. 

“Well, you’re already smarter than the first one,” you commented, but your voice was entirely different. It was no longer soft and timid, rather it was a lot more deep and confident. He watched your expression change in the same manner. Your once wide and innocent looking eyes narrowed into a more matured look, while your lips straightened into more of a dangerously amused grin than a naive pout. 

Then he processed your words. The ‘first one’ had to be your first husband, who Taehyung had explained had been killed on his wedding day. Taehyung had mentioned that a rival gang had been the one to murder him, but the actual one responsible for his death was clear to Jungkook now. 

“Do you make it a hobby to poison your husbands’ drinks on their wedding nights?” He asked, hand still wrapped around your throat. He had situated himself between your legs, his own leg pushing one of yours against the back of the couch while his free hand pushed the other down against the seat of the couch. The position ensured you wouldn’t be able to kick him, while his body hovering over your own seemed to take care of the rest of you. You were smart enough not to try anything anyway, knowing Jungkook’s strength was incomparable to yours.

You shrugged, panting at the limited oxygen entering your lungs, “golf just wasn’t cutting it for me anymore.”

“Golf? How can a weak and helpless girl like you play such a sport?” Jungkook couldn’t help but quip, bordering on mocking you. It only made you grin, clearly no hint of offence in your expression. 

He studied your nonchalant demeanour curiously. You had tried to kill him, and he should send your head back to your father’s doorstep for it. And yet, you couldn’t have looked any less composed with his hand around your neck. Either you were a complete idiot, which seemed much less likely now that he was starting to see your real character, or you believed you had the upper hand in this situation. 

“You’re quite calm for someone I should have killed,” he noted, meaning for it to be a threat. But once again you didn’t seem deterred. In fact, the comment seemed to amuse you even more. 

“Just because you should have me killed doesn’t mean you’ll actually have me killed.”

Jungkook’s brow raised, finding an opportunity to prod you further, “and why won’t I have you killed? Your father sent you here to kill me under the pretence of an alliance. I should start a war for this.”

You nodded, “but you see, my father did send me here to form an alliance. The whole killing you idea was all mine.”

Jungkook scoffed at the lame attempt at a lie, “you expect me to believe that?”

But you scoffed as well, meeting his gaze just as vehemently. It was an odd sight considering you had spent the entire day trying to make yourself small and avoiding his gaze. Yet here you were now, eyes ablaze like a thrashing fire. Not a spontaneously violent fire either, no Jungkook could very easily handle that. You were more like an electrical fire. It was becoming increasingly apparent that he had to be cautious around you, and that trusting any word that came out of your mouth was dangerous. 

“Prove it then,” he challenged, tightening his hold on your neck for a moment to remind you of your vulnerability. 

“I don’t need to prove anything,” you said, a hand coming up to wrap around his wrist, “just go ahead and mention to my father that I’m not a complete airhead that’s afraid of her own shadow. He’ll laugh in your face and call you a moron.”

The revelation that your father was just as clueless about your true self as everyone else only confirmed his initial thoughts. It also proved he couldn’t have trusted you to carry out an assassination attempt, meaning your father really did genuinely want an alliance with the Jeons. That was perfect, because Jungkook had certain plans that relied on this partnership. It was a relief that they hadn’t gone to waste.

“If it wasn’t your father’s idea, then why did you poison my drink?” He asked with a raised brow. 

Silence filled the room following his question, one that allowed you both to hear the sounds of the wall clock. He got the feeling that you were contemplating something once again, planning out your next move.

Then you squirmed underneath him, seemingly getting comfortable, but Jungkook knew better than to believe whatever you appeared as. The second your hand went for the gun wedged in his waistband, he grabbed your wrist, pining it against the couch, while the hand that had been around your throat pulled out the matte black weapon. He slowly brought it to your temple with an amused grin.

“If you wanted it so badly, you could have just asked,” he taunted, bringing the gun down so that its barrel lifted your chin, “now, I asked a question princess.”

You huffed, your amusement finally falling to give him a half-hearted glare.

“I want a divorce.”

Jungkook couldn’t help the laugh that sounded from his lips at your straightforwardness. You just tried to kill him, it didn’t take a genius to work out that you weren’t a fan of this marriage and wanted out of it. 

It was an arranged marriage after all, and even though all arranged marriages didn’t equal a forced marriage, technically he couldn’t be certain that this marriage was of your own choice or not. For all he knew, you had some secret lover waiting for you back home, your marriage with Jungkook coming between the star crossed romance. The thought made his jaw tick. He was far from in love with you, but Jungkook tended to be territorial about what was his. And you were his wife at the moment. 

You, on the other hand, seemed surprised by his reaction, as if it was the last thing you expected him to do.

“I mean you obviously want one now too, right?” You asked with your brows furrowed.

Jungkook didn’t respond, and that only seemed to make you more agitated.

“I’m not the wife that you want. You clearly can’t stand me when I have my ditzy front pulled up and you can’t trust me when I don’t.”

Although the points that you were making were true, there was one important factor you were missing, and that was the alliance between the Jeons and the Lees. Jungkook needed this alliance to, at the very least make himself seem like, he was more powerful than the Parks and the Mins. And with their recent moves -with what he saw at the docks just last night- he needed this alliance now more than ever. So while he normally would have had you executed and then sent your head to your father’s doorstep for your little assassination attempt, this time he was going to have to sweep his pride to the side.

Jungkook placed his free hand next to your head as he pushed himself up, choosing instead to stay standing in front of the sofa. His intense gaze dropped to your still form while his gun hung from his fingers firmly. 

“No,” he finally said, causing your brows to jump. 

You quickly pushed yourself off the couch to stand just as he was, but Jungkook didn’t move. With the sofa right behind you, barring you from taking a few steps back, that left you and him standing dangerously close to each other. The bow from your nightgown pressed against his partly unbuttoned black collar shirt, while its edge grazed his dress pants. Jungkook could feel the heat of your breath raise goosebumps from his exposed collarbone. 

“Why not? I’m not the wife that you want.”

He smiled at the bite in your words, finding your frustration amusing, “you’ve got it all wrong. I simply wanted a wife to make the Lees allies, nothing more.”

Like a fire set alight, your eyes flashed in anger, “I won’t change. I’ll still be your idiot wife that will make you look weak.”

It was true that most wives of mafia leaders were strong and confident beings, symbols of their husbands’ power, and that having a wife like you may be a slightly risky choice. But Jungkook was sure his carefully established reputation could take the hit. Besides, although you might make him look weak, your marriage with him would make him far from actually weak. 

“You think divorcing you won’t make me look weak?” Jungkook decided to say, unsure of if he was saying it to play with you more or to make sure you don’t believe your threats are inconveniencing him, “you’ve fooled everyone with your ditzy facade. A divorce will make them think I wasn’t able to tame a naive girl. You think people will accept me as a leader then?”

You didn’t react to the point, giving him the feeling that you might have already known that might pose an issue for him. Perhaps you thought his reputation could take the hit? When Jungkook really thought about it, it probably could have. He’d worked hard to be both feared and respected for years, a divorce like this, while questionable in the eyes of the people under him, could have been pushed under the rug given time. But the alliance was too important to him. 

And that was something he needed to make sure you knew. 

“That means you will continue to be my wife,” he settled, lowering his gaze so that it met yours with unwavering finality, “so you’ll continue to act like it.”

Jungkook felt his voice naturally lower, a hint of a threat evident in his tone, “listen to me well, Y/N. I don’t care if you act like the dumbest woman on Earth or the most sultry. Regardless, what you will act like is my wife. When we’re outside of this bedroom, we will laugh together, we will hug each other, and we will do whatever other damn thing married couples do so that no one doubts this relationship.”

“And if I don’t?” You bit, the speed of your reply making his jaw tick. 

“If you don’t, you can stay locked in this bedroom until you learn how to behave. Understood?”

Your rage couldn’t have been more prominent, with a fierce glare burning right through him and a pair of fisted hands at your sides. Yet Jungkook ignored it all, instead meeting your gaze coolly as he waited for your confirmation. 

It took a long moment to come, so long that Jungkook thought it wasn’t going to come at all. But eventually he noticed you nod your head. It was barely a movement, your head tipping down slightly before resuming its earlier place, but it was enough for him despite your unwavering glare. 

He finally took a few steps back, thrusting the barrel of his gun once again into the waistband of his pants. Your angry form, on the other hand, didn’t move, opting instead to stand perfectly still despite your calves pressing into the sofa behind you. Jungkook ran a hand through his hair, brushing the strands that had fallen onto his forehead away from his face.

“Good, then we’re done here.”

He finally turned away from you, eyeing the door on his left intently. But before he could move towards it, your words made him pause.

“I just tried to kill you,” you commented before he turned to question its randomness. He found you sitting on the sofa once again, an eerily thoughtful look lurking behind your rage-filled eyes, “how will you know I won’t do it again?”

Jungkook tilted his head in response. 

“You can try all you want, princess,” he said, liking the feeling of that nickname on his tongue more and more. It was almost addicting, “but you won’t succeed.”

Then his lips curled into a sly smirk, “after all, what kind of husband would I be if I barred my wife from her hobbies?”

He was able to just barely catch the roll of your eyes before he turned and pushed through the door he had been eyeing earlier, his hands automatically locking it behind him as he casually surveyed his office. The room had been spared from the new gleaming white and fawn furniture which had taken over his bedroom. Instead, it was filled with familiar dark brown.

Refined dark oak wood shelves and cabinets lined the walls except for the wall behind his large desk, which was made up entirely of a bookshelf filled to the brim with various hardcovers. For the sake of matching with the rest of the house, the marble floor had been done a light fawn colour, while another wall was made up of bulletproof glass, its centre having the ability to slide open to reveal a decent sized balcony. 

Jungkook shrugged off his blazer as he made his way to his desk, laying the piece of cloth over the back of his black leather chair, before he opened the glass cabinet behind it. He didn’t need to think much as his fingers expertly curled around an expensive bottle of whiskey and a crystal glass. Before he knew it, he found himself standing outside on his balcony overlooking his estate, one hand holding the crystal glass filled halfway with light brown liquid while the other clutched the iron railing. 

His gaze bounced around his estate for a peaceful moment as he took a sip from his glass, taking in the expanse of the luscious green field bordering the neatly done driveway despite the darkness of the night. In its centre was an intricately designed white fountain spewing water in four different directions, but all of which emptied systematically into the white basin at its base. The estate itself stretched for metres, the gates enclosing the space barely visible from where he was standing. Jungkook’s thoughts bounced around his head just as quickly as his gaze. 

What a day it had been. At first, you’d been a complete idiot, one that had irritated him to no extent with your doe eyes and evident shyness. 

But then you had turned out to be an entirely different species, far from the innocent and ditzy girl he’d labelled you as. You were cunning and feisty and seemingly very much ready for a divorce. 

Jungkook felt the corners of his lips pull upwards into a grin as he took another sip of his whisky.

You were quite the enigma.

But he was going to enjoy the challenge.  

A/N: comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!

[katsukistofu]

peanut butter and jellyfish

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ h. shinsou x fem reader. 5k words — fluff. cursing. comforting insecurities. friends to secret lovers.

⭑ shenanigans with your not-so-secret boyfriend ft. sleepovers with eri, a cat eating pizza on you at 3am, your classmates being nosy, and an aquarium date.

note: your quirk is forensic sight! so ur gc name is the way it is bc ur eyes lol get it

You choke back a laugh as a very focused Eri puts yet another sticker on Hitoshi’s face. 

Snacks and pillows are strewn around the inside of the blanket fort the three of you finished building moments before. Stiller than a rock, your calm best friend sits there cross-legged so that Eri can give him a makeover of unicorns, stars, and rainbows. 

“Do you think he looks pretty yet?” Eri tilts her head at you.

“Like a real-life princess.” You giggle. “Good job, Eri!” 

“Yay!” She happily high fives the hand you hold up for her. “Do you feel pretty yet, Hito-nii?”

“I feel so bonita.” Hitoshi deadpans, sending you two into another fit of giggles.

“You were pretty already, Toshi,” you coo, rubbing a thumb over the sticker of a cat making sushi on his cheekbone. Mr. Aizawa must have bought that one for her.

Hitoshi pretends to shyly gaze at you from under his long lashes. “Aw, really?”

His lips curve into a lazy smile, and a heat that you’re all too familiar with rises up your neck, you turn away–a little too quickly, to Hitoshi’s amusement.

“Nevermind you’re ugly.”

He laughs and the heat creeps up to your cheeks.

Such a simple sound, yet that soft, husky voice of his always manages to make your insides a mushy mess, even when you had painfully tripped over his cat, Celery, when he transferred and first moved into the dorms with your class.

The normally stoic, reserved purple-haired boy had doubled over with an uncontrollable wheeze, supporting himself on the sofa as your groaning self was sprawled across the floor. 

God, they were lucky they were both cute.

Yet, you couldn’t help but smile as he reached a hand out to help you up, the other still covering his mouth. 

That was the first time you made him laugh, and now, you’ve heard it so many times that you could finally stop counting on both your hands’ fingers but you still wanted more.

“Want me to paint your nails, Eri?” You ask, scooting over to your bedroom’s drawer. 

You open it, your own light blue nails painted a color that reminds you of the sea against the pastel pink of the treasure box you take out. It had a heart-shaped diamond on the latch. 

The heavy box was filled with a collection of nail polish the girls in your class usually used for their sleepovers as well, and new bottles, mostly varying shades of apple red, started mysteriously appearing the day after Eri said she had never gotten painted her nails before. 

“Yes!” Eri’s eyes sparkle. “Can I please have matchy nails with Hito-nii?”

“Of course, sweetie.” You smile. She was adorable. 

Hitoshi rubs the back of his neck. “You sure you want yours black this time, Eri?”

“Yes!” She huffs stubbornly. “Like dad’s clothes and those things under your eyes!”

“Hey!” He protests. She shares a mischievous look with you and you both giggle, catching the pillow Hitoshi gently throws at you. 

“Oreo wouldn’t treat me like this.” Hitoshi reaches out to ruffle Eri’s hair and she squeals in protest, batting his hand away. 

Eri holds up the oversized panda plushie he was talking about. It was comically bigger than her, and you had to bite back a laugh.

The moment you two spotted it in the claw machine outside Shinsou’s favorite cat cafe near campus, you knew you had to win it to add to her ever growing collection of stuffed animals.

With a grin, you remember the huge sigh of relief Shinsou let out when it finally fell into the chute.

“Duh he wouldn’t ‘cause you’re his twin!”

Hitoshi mock gasps. “Take that back.” And tickles her neck, barely dodging as you throw the pillow he threw earlier back at him. 

“Woah!”

Except much, much harder.

“Don’t worry Eri, I'll protect you!” You grab another nearby pillow and throw it at him, which he easily catches in mid-air with one hand like it was a frisbee.

“Aw.” You pout. Mr. Aizawa was training him a little too good now.

Eri pats your arm to console you. “It’s okay I appre-shee—apree-shee—“

“Appreciate?” You offer, and her face brightens as she nods.

“Appree-shee-ate. You. For trying.” She finishes shyly.

“Aw, thank you Eri. I appreciate you too.” 

Hitoshi’s eyes soften at the sight of you two. 

“What about me?”

You scowl. “You can go duck yourself, Toshi.”

“Love you too.”

Eri suddenly gasps. 

“Dad says that to Uncle Zashi too!”

Despite already knowing the answer, Hitoshi and you turn to look at her suspiciously.

“…Which one?”

As if he knows you’re talking about him, Aizawa yells down the hallway.

“Eri, brats, pizza’s here!”

───────── 

“Can I have another hug?” Hitoshi asks coyly after class one day. 

The bell had just rung, and you roll your eyes at his leaning form on the wall of the almost empty hallway. 

Everyone was leaving for lunch.

Except you two, but that was Hitoshi’s fault.

“I just gave you one!”

“Oh no.” He places a dramatic palm to his forehead. “I think I’m going to pass out because of someone if I don’t get a hug in the next five seconds.”

“Greedy ass.” You sigh, wrapping your arms around his waist. 

He hides a grin, shuffling closer to close the gap between your bodies. 

Hitoshi smells like fresh linen with hints of sunshine, probably from his daily bike ride he took around campus before class started, and the coffee he brewed this morning. 

A sense of comfort settles into your bones as the familiar scent envelopes you, and you breathe it in. 

He softly tucks your head under his chin as you nuzzle your face deeper into his chest, your headache from taking the quiz in Ectoplasm’s class earlier now long gone.

“Did you know that when cats see that it's raining outside a window, they go to another window in the same room to check if it's still raining outside?” Hitoshi randomly whispers.

“I did not know that.” You giggle. His lips feel ticklish on your hair. “Does Celery do that too?”

“All the time.” Hitoshi grins. “I have a video from yesterday’s storm, I’ll show you in the cafeteria.”

“Ooh okay!”

He straightens, and takes your hand, your fingers easily lacing through his as you both start to head in the direction of the dining hall. 

When you trip over nothing, he snorts, already expecting it, and catches your waist before you take a fall that will be difficult for your ego and your knees to recover from.

“Careful,” he says as you clutch onto his school uniform in relief, and you swear that already deep, smooth voice of his drops an octave on purpose, almost sending you to the ground again.

Hitoshi’s thumb is still tracing small circles on the back of your hand as the both of you join the line for the traditional school lunch. You could try a different cuisine tomorrow. On today’s menu was miso seaweed soup with a side of grilled fish and a milk bread roll along with, of course, rice.

You feel a vibration on the side of your leg, and for the umpteenth time this school year you thank UA for adding pockets to the school uniform’s skirts as you slip your phone out. The jellyfish charm Hitoshi got for your birthday last year dangles from your case.

Surprise, surprise, it’s the class group chat.

-forklift uncertified -

it’s barbie bitch 

guysss guess what i sawwww

invisi-girl 

IS IT TODOROKI IN A PINK TUTU

 

pikachew

girl what 

invisi-girl 

u guys don’t get the vision

i saw it in a dream last night

the rock 

nah i get it dude

that would be so manly

ice spice 

I would not be completely opposed to the idea

invisi-girl 

SEE

it’s barbie bitch 

it’s even better >_<

it’s barbie bitch 

hitoshituckingyourhair

behindearwithasoftsmile.png

mochi cheeks

OHMYGOD!?1?2?2

SOCUTEEEEETES

airpods with wires

i saw that

airpods with wires 

can yall not flirt before lunch 

next time i’m gonna throw 

up before i get to eat

sue you 

AWWWW OUR LITTLE BABYS ALL GROWN UP

forensic balls [you]

FUCK U GUYS IM 17

yaomomo

exactly

a Baby :)

forensic balls [you]

yaoyao ur supposed

to be on my side </3

yaomomo 

sorry my love i cannot 

deny the facts </3

pikachew

Nahhh only shinsou can call her that guys ;))))

airpods with wires

wah wah wah

forensic balls [you]

one more word and i’m gonna change the gc name to fornite jiggle physics 

sue you

NO

yaomomo

No thank you

my chemical romance

what a mad banquet of darkness

it’s barbie bitch

babe look me in the

eyes this isn’t like you 

forensic balls [you]

try me. 

pikachew

DO ITTTTTTT

forensic balls [you]

ok just bc u told me to 

i won’t now 

scotch tape 

dayum rip denks

forensic balls [you]

also not my fault u guys 

have early ass birthdays smh

shirt guy

Senior citizen core fr

forensic balls [you]

ily midoriya

shirt guy

ilyt pookie xx 

kazoo-ki

Girl u aint slick

shirt guy

You’re so late omg

pikachew

bro has us on mute

kazoo-ki

shut up dunce face

kazoo-ki

How tf do I change my name

mochi cheeks

LMFAO

wiki-how

Bakugo it is fairly simple. 

wiki-how

First you click on your profile, then your personal settings. 

wiki-how

From there you press “Change Display Name” and you should be able to enter your name of preference. 

kazoo-ki 

K

better than you

Thanks glasses ig

wiki-how

You are very welcome.

kiri the rock

nice one dude!

sue you

wow egotistical much

better than you

You wish yours was as big as mine

pikachew

that’s what he said

it’s barbie bitch

omg it just hit me

it’s barbie bitch

the first person to 

finally get bitches in our class 

it’s barbie bitch

i’m so happy i could cry

pikachew

I GET BITCHES

sue you

yeah over the screen 

we're talking irl

pikachew

leave me and my otome games alone

forensic balls [you]

real 

forensic balls [you]

AND IM NOT DATING HITOSHI

it’s barbie bitch

HITOSHI????????

airpods with wires

first name basis is crazy

forensic balls [you]

fuck i mean *shinsou

scotch tape

y’all smell that

the rock

peeeyew

pikachew

smells like sum bullshiiii

kazoo-ki

Could’ve fooled me

yaomomo

You aren’t??? :(

yaomomo

But I wrote a reminder to wish 

you two happy anniversary and 

even bought tea to celebrate!

forensic balls [you]

….for what date

yaomomo

April 1st :(

forensic balls [you]

………………

airpods with wires  

@ it’s barbie bitch we can see u

across the cafeteria u are BAWLING

eyebags

what the fuck

Hitoshi bites back a laugh as your widened eyes meet his, glancing up from your phone.

“Not dating, huh?” He grins.

You groan and pinch his arm. “I panicked okay! I didn’t know what to tell them.”

“Hmm, do you want me to?”

“I mean, only if you want to.” You shyly play with his fingers. 

“I kind of like us being a secret from them for a little longer. It feels… nice.”

Hitoshi smiles. “I know what you mean.” He wrinkles his nose. “Though they’re so nosy it looks like they figured it out already.”

“Pffft, yeah.” Mina could definitely sniff out a relationship from miles away, no matter how much PDA you tried to sneakily do in empty hallways.

Hitoshi squeezes your hand in reassurance.

“I like it too.” He leans over, and your eyes are forced to meet the dark violet of his.

The side of Hitoshi’s soft-looking lips, courtesy of the strawberry chapstick he stole from you before class this morning, quirk up as he looks down at you with soft eyes, the ones he reserves for you and random cats he sees on the road.

“Chapstick thief,” you mutter.

“Oh, you want it back?” Hitoshi grins. “Kiss it off me then.”

Your cheeks grown warm. “Not here!”

“Good,” He smirks.

“I prefer keeping you all to myself, anyway.”

   ───────── 

“What’s wrong?” 

He’s crouching down so that your eyes have no choice but to meet his from your spot on the bean bag.

He gently pushes the switch in your hands down to your lap and pokes your thigh. You squirm away ticklishly. 

“Tell me.”

“No.” You huff, picking your switch back up. “I just wanna play Stardew, leave me alone.”

“Darling.”

Your face flushes at the pet name, and he smirks. His secret weapon still works without fail. Hitoshi didn’t even need to activate his quirk to have you under his thumb. 

“You’re not going to feel better if you keep it in. Tell me what’s wrong.”

His nails are still pink, you faintly notice, trying to distract yourself from your very attractive, very insistent boyfriend in front of you with his comforting hands placed on your thighs.

You painted his left hand, and Eri painted his right at the last sleepover you had together. She had insisted that he should match nails with her this time, since she matched with him last week.

It was already terrible and impressive that Hitoshi was a people-reader, even worse that he knew what to do to make you fold so easily and open up.

Curse you Hitoshi, you and your disposition for healthy communication.

You should have never recommended that therapist to him.

“I don’t know,” you finally mumble. He tilts his head, showing you that he’s listening. 

“I just feel like I don’t deserve it.”

“Deserve what, sweetheart?” He asks. The softness in his voice is unbearable and what you've been bottling up for weeks finally spills out.

“I feel like I don’t deserve it when good things happen to me.”

Hitoshi blinks, then lets out a snort. Which turns into a full blown laugh coming from his chest.

You shove his face away and he falls on his butt, still chuckling. 

“You’re making fun of me!” You say indignantly.

“Sorry, sorry, I just–” He coughs, and takes a breath to recollect himself. 

“You say a lot of dumb shit and I think that's the worst thing I’ve heard you say.”

You pout. “I’m feeling very invalidated right now.” Hitoshi rolls his eyes, and his hands reclaim their spot on your skin, except this time he’s gently cupping your face in his hands. 

He’s not used to comforting people, but you can see that he’s trying.  

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, and you inhale sharply. “You’re kind, you’re intelligent, and I see you try so hard everyday. You always do a good job when you set your sights on something. Why don’t you deserve good things?”

“I don’t know.” Your gaze is numbly pinned to the silver chain around his neck, the one with a little crescent moon on it that he wears everyday, not even taking it off when he goes to sleep. The one you gave to him. 

“That’s okay.”

His thumbs caress your cheeks, and you think you can breathe a little easier. 

“Let's think of it this way,” Hitoshi says, still cupping your cheeks, grounding you. “It’s not about whether you deserve it or not. Do you want it?”

You finally meet his eyes, and answer with a voice shakier than you’d like it to be. 

“I do. I want good things for myself.”

“Atta girl,” Hitoshi says with a proud quirk of his lips. 

You stare at him, your heart suspended in your chest, feeling better but still looking a bit unsure.

Hitoshi notices this from the way you start biting the inside of your cheek, and he leans his forehead against yours. You freeze. 

He smells like fruit, like freshly washed blueberries and those ripe strawberries in the kitchen in the dorm’s fridge. “That’s more than enough. We can work from there.”

There’s still a worried furrow between your eyebrows.

“Come on, sweetheart. We can go to the aquarium you love this weekend.”

He smirks as you perk up at that, drinking up the rare, shy expression suddenly on your face again, and leans down to your ear. 

“You’re so easy,” Hitoshi whispers. 

You grumble, you could hear that stupid grin in his voice.

“Sorry, I can't hear you with your face in my chest.”

You raise your head to glare at him and his heart soars. There was his girl.

God, his smug face was starting to irritate you more and more. "I said that if you were my husband I'd poison your tea!" 

“If you were my wife, I'd drink it."

   ───────── 

-thot pockets -

it's barbie bitch

omg guess who i just saw 

cuddling in front of the tv

it's barbie bitch

youwrappedlikeaburritoinhitoshisarms.png

dating allegation #1 

MINA WTF DELETE THAT

dating allegation #1 

WHY R U STALKING US

[dating allegation #2 saved an image]

dating allegation #1 

BRO WHOS SIDE ARE YOU ON

dating allegation #1 

PURPLE MINION LOOKING BITCH

dating allegation #2

ok forensic penis

dating allegation #2

who changed my user

pikachew

me

cuz u guys are NOT beating 

them :laughcry::laughcry:

ice spice

I am just confused as to why 

you two are sitting on each other 

ice spice

When the rest of the couch 

appears to be unoccupied

ice spice

Perhaps this is a new 

procreation method?

mochi cheeks

TODORKIWHATHAHVDHSHA

pikachew

LMDFAOOOOOOOOO

ice spice

? 

dating allegation #1 

WHATTHEFUKC

the rock

never change bro 

sue you

IACTAULKYLCANT BREATHE HELP

it’s barbie bitch

ME NEITEHHR

dating allegation #2

Whenever my eyebags get darker

dating allegation #2

Just know I blame it on all of you

   ───────── 

“Celery?” You mutter, rubbing your bleary eyes. “What are you doing?”

“Mrow.” The cat continues eating the slice of… pizza? On your chest.

It looks like the one that you and Hitoshi ordered earlier after quizzing each other for Present Mic’s exam.

 

“I love you so much but I am so confused.”

You reach for your phone to text Hitoshi, your still-asleep hands fumbling a bit on the nightstand.

toshi <3 [12 hrs ago]

us 

you [12 hrs ago]

literally us <3

toshi <3 [12 hrs ago]

want to order takeout and 

watch ouran highschool after

we study for tmrws exam

you [12 hrs ago]

yes please omg

you [now – 03:24]

hey

can u explain why ur daughter

is eating pizza on my boobs

at 3am

toshi [03:30]

whar

?

toshi [03:31]

OHfMGOD

CELERU

Not even five minutes later, he’s knocking on the door to your room. You open it, and the sight of a very sleepy looking Hitoshi greets you. His already unruly bedhead is even messier than usual and you’re pretty sure he’s wearing his shirt backwards. Did he put it on before coming over? 

Wait.

You blink, long and hard, banishing the thoughts of a groggy, very shirtless Hitoshi lying in his bed, with the light of his phone screen illuminating his handsome features as he replies to your text. Those four hours of sleep must finally be hitting you.

Hitoshi sees you blinking, and takes it as a sign you’re still in shock at the pizza monster in your lap.

He gives an awkward pat to your shoulder in reassurance.

“I think this is just how she shows affection.” Hitoshi stares down at Celery fondly.

The way you stroke her fur so softly makes his chest feel warm and tingly.

“Does she eat leftover pizza off your chest at three in the morning?”

“...No.”

“Hah. She said she likes me better. ” You smirk victoriously. “Isn’t that right sweetie?”

The calico cat purrs as you scratch her ears, a bit of tomato sauce under her chin. Hitoshi exaggeratedly puts his hand over his heart at this scene of betrayal.

“Seriously? Celery, I took you off those streets and raised you like I was the one pregnant with you for nine months.”

“Mrow.” She bumps her head against your hand.

“Pfft, give it up Toshi. It’s time for you to hand over the adoption papers.”

Hitoshi rubs the back of his neck. “Or we could just share custody.”

“What?” Your cheeks grow warm. “You want me to be her mom?”

“I mean you kind of already are. Look at her,” he says, eyes softening as he looks at the two of you. 

Celery has her paw on your arm. After eating until her little tummy was full, she was already starting to doze off.

“She takes after me.”

You let out a derisive snort.

“Yeah you looked just like that after our binge marathon today too."

“Not in that way.”

He smirks at your confused reaction.

“Then what do you mean–”

At that moment, Celery decides it’s the perfect time to snuggle into your tank top, smearing what’s left of the pizza on her face all over it.

Hitoshi’s eyes widen. He laughs, covering his mouth.

You’ve never been so glad you chose to wear black to sleep.

   ───────── 

“Trouble child, you’re here.”

“Hi Mr. Aizawa.” You roll your eyes. “When are you going to stop calling me that, it’s getting old.”

“When you stop getting into trouble.”

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“The kid’s almost ready.” He snorts. “About damn time. Been up since six.”

“He has?” Your eyes widen. “For what?”

Your teacher smirks. “Nerves. Isn’t this his, what, tenth time taking you out though?”

A flustered Hitoshi suddenly appears from behind him with a light pink dusting his cheeks and steers Aizawa back to the door. “O-okay dad that’s enough.” 

He’s cutely dressed in a soft-looking grey cardigan over a white shirt and black wide-legged pants. 

This had to be the most boyfriend he’s looked, ever, and he looked very boyfriend all of the time. 

“Hitoshi?” You do a little twirl for him in your own outfit. “Fire or nah?”

He looks up from his phone, where he’s googling the bus route to the aquarium, except his eyes linger. Without skipping a beat, he responds.

 “Fire.”

“Toshi, you’re staring.”

“Of course I’m staring.” He says it with a tone like 'what else would I be doing?'

You shyly fidget with the edge of your shorts. “Why?”

“Because you’re beautiful.”

Hitoshi reaches out a hand, like he hasn't just casually left you breathless, and his own eyes soften as he notices your starry-eyed look. 

“Let’s go, you crybaby.”

“Damn. I was going to say you look handsome too, but I don’t remember being the one who sobbed my eyes out watching Your Name last night.”

The tips of his ears turn red.

“Shut up.”

“Was like our fifth rewatch too.”

“Shut up before I kiss you.”

"Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Both."

‧₊˚ 🐚 ✩ ₊˚ 🌊 ⊹ 𓇼

Hitoshi’s lips twitch as he sees your eyes light up at the sight of the sign pointing in the jellyfish exhibit’s direction. “You’re adorable.”

“Thanks.” You grin. “You’re slow.”

You take him by the arm, your brain faintly registering how muscular his bicep is despite holding it so many times, and drag him along. 

In their tanks, the glow of the moon jellies fills the darkness in front of them as other visitors murmur around you two in awe. Blue light reflects off the water and through the glass, illuminating your boyfriend’s dreamy features and you can’t help but admire how pretty he looks.

Hitoshi turns from watching the jellyfish to face you, fingers now lacing through yours. You don’t look away. 

A soft smile flickers across his face when he catches you staring at him.

“This reminds me of when we first met.”

You smile. You remember. He was the one Mina relentlessly teased you for staring at, which you completely denied at the time.

“Why’re you so thirsty?” You remember her whispering into your ear at the Sports Festival in your first year. The both of you were sitting in your class’s designated spots in the stands.

Your eyes had widened, scandalized. 

“I am not!”

“Please. You’re totally staring at him.”

“Who?”

“Shinsou Hitoshi.” She grinned. “Cute, right?”

Of course she paid attention when they announced his name specifically. 

You could never remember anyone’s, and she probably saw you looking at his picture for a little too long when it appeared on the Jumbotron’s screen, announcing that his match with Oijiro was about to begin. 

“Not really,” you lied, a bad attempt at feigning disinterest. 

Like your eyes hadn’t been trailing down his lean figure the moment his next match started. 

Or noticing how attractive it was the way he casually folded his arms when he taunted Midoriya, or wondering in your mind if his perpetual bed-head was as soft as it looks. 

Mina turned to you, smirking at your slightly dazed expression.

“Really? Then you wouldn’t mind if I told him you had some questions about his quirk and wanted to talk about it after this, riiight?”

“What?” You shake your head furiously. “I mean his quirk is really interesting but–ugh Mina, no!” 

“For the plot!” She waggled her eyebrows.

You nudged her knee with a huff. “I’m breaking up with you.”

“Nooo, I’m kidding, I’m kidding.” Mina eyed you cheekily. “I won’t call him over.”

“Oh thank god.”

“But only if you admit he’s your type.”

You groan. “Okay fine. I think he’s hot, happy?”

“Very.” Your best friend laughs, pure happiness indeed written all over her face. You can see the matchmaking gears already turning in her head. “I just know you too well, babe.”

You roll your eyes. “Sometimes I really wish you didn’t.”

“Come on, you guys would be so cute together though.” She sighs dreamily. “Forensic sight and mind-control? Plus you’re both hot as fuck? Talk about a power couple.”

“....I think I’m going to go sit with Yaomomo instead.”

Recalling the memory, you laugh. “I know, we kept accidentally making eye contact after your second match because our seats were right across from each other.”

“That awkward prolonged eye contact in the stands might’ve been how I started crushing on you.”

You smirk. “You had a crush on me? That's so embarrassing.”

“I know.” He rolls his eyes, softly tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “Worst decision of my life.”

You hold Hitoshi’s hand tighter as you step closer to his side to get a better view of the tank. 

“Glad the feeling is mutual.” 

You spot it before he does.

“Oh my god Toshi. We need to get this for Eri.”

He spins around from the collection of the aquarium’s official shirts for sale, a shirt with a print of a whale shark in his hands. 

“Wha–oh my god.”

Hitoshi stares at the giant penguin plushie you’re holding in front of you. 

It was bigger than you–no, bigger than him even.

“Not sure if it’s going to fit on the train home, but we’ll make it work.”

   ───────── 

"Can you teach me how to draw a unicorn too, Eri?" Hitoshi asks.

You had already asked Eri before him seconds ago so you stick your tongue out at Hitoshi, mouthing ‘copycat,’ and he tilts his head down to quickly kiss your neck, making you giggle. 

He still has a pink bow wrapped around his bicep from when you three played dress up an hour ago, and you fight the urge to laugh again at how silly he looks.

Eri is too focused on her drawings to care about either of you, and after she scribbles around a little more, she turns to face her older brother.

“Yeah!” She hands him a red crayon. “Okay, so first you draw half of a circle.”

Hitoshi follows Eri’s instructions.

He lifts his hand, which nearly covers the paper, to reveal a red ‘C’ that looks like it got run over by a truck.

“No, no not like that! Erase it.” She frowns disapprovingly, hands on her hips. “You’re really bad at this Hito-nii.”

“Please Eri-sensei. I'm trying my best.”

“Try harder!” She turns away with a huff, then peers over at your paper. 

“Ooh yours looks so good!” Eri claps, and you smile proudly. 

“It’s all thanks to you, Eri.” You reach out to fix her pigtail that was starting to slip out of the cat-patterned scrunchie, and she giggles, holding still for you. 

Hitoshi grumbles. “This smells like favoritism.”

“That’s ‘cause your unicorn looks Celery’s poop!” Eri chirps. Then she runs away to the kitchen right before you double over in laughter at Hitoshi’s extremely offended face, clutching onto his broad shoulders for support. 

“She said your drawing looks like shit!” You snort, and he groans.

Celery’s ears perk up in Hitoshi’s lap and she meows, looking in your direction. You hold out your arms. “Celery, you want uppies?”

She ignores them and decides to sit in your lap instead, purring softly.

“Mrow.”

“Yeah? And then what?” You coo, gently rubbing her fuzzy forehead, and her eyes close in contentment.

She mewls again, pawing at your sock and you laugh.

“Okay, okay I’ll tell him.” 

Looking up at Hitoshi, he tilts his head the same way Celery does when you talk to her. 

You bite back a laugh, you’re not sure who’s the cat in the room at this point.

“What did she say?” He asks you curiously.

All you do is blink slowly at him in response.

Hitoshi’s brows knit in confusion.

Then his eyes widen, a soft pink starting to color his cheeks.

Shyly, he slowly blinks back.

Suddenly, the gray-haired girl comes back from the kitchen, apples Aizawa sliced like rabbits for her on a plate in her hands. 

You’re still slowly blinking at each other as she walks through the door.

Eri looks at the both of you weirdly.

“What are you two doing?”

“Mrow.”

teehee hitoshi’s the pb to ur jelly(fish) get it

[teapartyprincess4two]

Messy- J. Webber

pairing: Waitress!reader x Mechanic!Jake

classification: SMUT SMUT NO FLUFF

warnings: 18+, MDNI, literal sex, messy sex, public sex, facial, cream pie, cursing

inspiration: request

summary: Jake is a regular customer at the diner you work at, eating the same meal everyday before returning back to work. One day, when you’re taking his order, you can tell he has much more sinful intentions than a quick meal.

—

The diner is slow today, it always is on Sundays. You’ve had a total of 5 customers and it’s already past noon, making the day feel endless. You’re currently messing with the fryer in the kitchen. It turned off suddenly and now it won’t turn back on. “Stupid fucking fryer,” you grumble, clicking random buttons until it finally starts heating.

Suddenly the front doorbell rings, indicating a customer has entered the lobby. “Hello! I’ll be right with you!” you call out from the kitchen, peering your head over the order window to catch a glimpse of the customers. You instantly recognize that it’s Jake, he’s a regular customer and arrives everyday at exactly 12:30pm without fail.

Jake saunters in, dirty and sweaty from a hard days work. He works at an automotive repair shop that sits right on the corner of the street, choosing your diner everyday as his preferred dining spot. The walk from his car shop isn’t long, but he always leaves early so he misses the lunch rush.

Because he’s such a frequent customer, Jake knows the diner well, so he situates himself in the booth that gives him the best view of the kitchen. When he first started eating here, he realized that this booth provided him with a cinema worthy experience because he could watch you work as he enjoyed his meal.

You emerge from the kitchen with a big smile on your face, walking around the front counter and over to Jake’s table. “Can’t get enough of this place, huh?” you joke, retrieving a small notebook and ball point pen from the depths of your apron.

“Guess so,” Jake replies with a chuckle, folding his dirty hands over the table. They’re permanently stained with car oil, calloused by countless hours of manual labor. Your eyes travel from his broad, tattooed shoulders down to his folded arms, relishing in the way his sweat glistens in the sun that trickles in through the window. His white tank top is adorned with black smudges and stains, ripped and frayed along the edges. There’s dirt under his fingernails, a detail that you’d usually find disturbing, but it adds even more grit to Jake. You love the idea of being fucked by a hard working man who isn’t afraid to get dirty.

Jake’s messy look completely juxtaposes yours. You’re wearing your diner uniform, clad in a pastel pink dress and an apron so white it reflected the sun. Your hair is curled and pinned back, a matching pink bow dangling in between your bouncy strands. Stark white sneakers sway back and forth, as you wait patiently for Jake to order. You looked so clean, too clean, and Jake wanted to roam his hands all over you and watch how messy you could really get.

“So, your usual?” you ask, knowing Jake’s order by heart. Over the course of his visits, you’ve learned that Jake is a simple man. He orders the same thing everyday and although the food was slightly above average, he claimed it was his favorite as an excuse to watch you work.

Jake loved watching as you diligently wiped down tables, your hips rocking back and forth as you worked the rag into tough, grimy spots. When you were mopping, he’d scoot closer to the edge of his seat and watch you bend over as you rung out the mop. He especially loves watching as you walked over to his booth with his meal in hand, because once you arrive to the table you bend over just enough to expose the top of your breasts.

“You know how I like it, baby,” the nickname slips out naturally, the flirtatious undertones evident in Jake’s voice. At first you would become flustered with his incessant flirting, but now that you’re used to it, you get turned on. You feel like a car engine, revved up and ready to fuck some miles into him.

“Alright, it’ll be right out,” you reply with a playful smile, shoving the notepad and pen back into your apron before making your way back to the kitchen. Your hips sway as you walk away, the string of your apron slapping against your ass with each step.

Jake’s eyes are glued to you, mentally undressing you from across the room. He’s really hungry now, but not for the food.

—

20 minutes have passed and you’re still not back with his food. Jake isn’t the type to complain, but he knows it never takes you this long. Loud beeping rings throughout the diner, followed by a loud yell from the kitchen, “Ow! Fuck!” Metal clangs on the floor shortly after, a string of cuss words coming from you.

Jake’s natural instinct is to get up and check on you, but you come out from the kitchen before he can act on it. You’re pressing a cold, wet towel on your hand, “Sorry, it’s gonna be a while. The fryer’s been acting up all day and it just turned off. I burnt myself trying to fix it, but I popped your fries in the oven instead, okay?”

Jake sees the opportunity and takes it, “No problem. I can take a look at it if you want?” He’s an extremely handy man, and he’s hoping to get handsy with you if he plays his cards right.

“At what?” you ask confused, applying pressure to your hand.

“The fryer. I can try to fix it. It’ll only take a few minutes,” he replies, using his hands to push himself out of the booth. Before you can protest, Jake begins walking to the kitchen. His dirty work boots leave a trail of footprints on the floor as you follow closely behind, trying to keep up with his long strides. He quickly finds the fryer, following the smell of gas until he locates the source.

“No, it’s okay! I’ll just put in a work order,” you reason, watching as he kneels in front of the machine. You were beginning to panic, no one other than employees were allowed in the kitchen. What if your boss suddenly showed up and found him back here? Not to mention how unsanitary it was for him to be touching everything with his soiled hands.

“Yeah? And when will they finally come fix it?”

The question has you stumped, causing you to think for a while. The maintenance men usually didn’t come until weeks after the initial work order was put in, and working without a fryer for that long sounded like actual hell. That didn’t mean you wanted a customer working while on their lunch break, “Probably a couple of weeks, but it’s okay. It’s not a big deal, really!”

Your words fall on deaf ears though because Jake is opening the fryer hatch, a whiff of cooking oil and gas hitting him straight in the face. From that smell alone he immediately knew the problem, “Yeah, see, the gas line isn’t connected. One stray spark and this whole place is blowing up.”

Jake’s used to working in much hotter temperatures, surrounded daily by the summer weather and even hotter car engines. So, although the fryer is emitting a lot of heat, it’s nothing compared to what he deals with daily. He manages to find the main gas line, turning the nob off to ensure there isn’t any other leaks. After that, he swiftly turns the machine off before unscrewing a hot, black tube. He pulls the black tube off with a grunt, causing a loud hissing noise as the last bits of gas spill out.

“How do you know it’s the gas line?” you ask curiously, blissfully unaware and nose blind to the smell. “The smell,” he replies blatantly, strong hands removing random pieces from the machine. Well they were random to you, but Jake seemed to know the purpose of each piece.

The oven dings faintly in the background, indicating that the fries are finally done baking. You would love to stay and watch his arms flex as he worked, but you didn’t want to cause another hazard, “I’ll be back, those are the fries. I don’t want them to burn.”

He hums in response, the sound being followed by another animalistic grunt. You feel your core clench at the sound, there was something about him that made you want to push him to the ground and get messy.

You force yourself to look away, finally walking over to the oven to retrieve the fries before they burn.

—

The fryer was worse than either of you anticipated, causing Jake to spend more than a ‘few minutes’ working on it. He’s lying face up on the floor to get a better view, a broken down cardboard box is sprawled out under him to serve as a cushion and as a barrier from the cold floor.

Luckily you’ve only had one other customer since then and all they ordered was a drink, so you’ve been able to watch Jake work this entire time. Your pussy is throbbing at the possibilities, your mind delving into uncharted territory as you imagine what he’d look like under you.

Jake’s hips buck upward as he adjust himself, pushing himself further into the machine each time. Your eyes fall onto his crotch every time, you can’t help but stare and salivate at the growing bulge. He knows you’re watching and it’s turning him on.

“Here, hold this piece right… there,” he instructs, voice trailing off as his fingers pinch a wire in place. You comply, scooting closer so you can properly hold the wire in place. The position is uncomfortable though, your legs struggling to remain in place as you try not to fall on Jake.

After a while your legs start to hurt, trembling from the constant strain. “I can’t reach,” you explain, attempting to shift your weight so you’re comfortable.

Jake lifts his head up, careful not to hit it against the metal above him, as he peers at you. You were awkwardly reaching over him, one hand gripping onto the edge of the fryer as the other stretched to properly hold the wire in place. He looks down at your legs, watching as they shake before he accidentally catches a glimpse of your underwear.

“Here, just…” he begins to say, forgetting his sentence as his mind fills with sinful thoughts of you. He places his tools on the ground before taking a hold of your waist, dirty fingerprints immediately soaking into the fabric of your dress. He uses his hands to carefully guide you over him, stopping once you’re situated directly above his crotch.

“Try again,” he instructs, forcing himself to think about anything other than the newfound pressure you’re applying to him. You reposition the wire with your right hand, your left hand resting on Jake’s chest for support. Once the wire is in place, he scoots forward, his hips bucking up again as he does it. The rough material of his jeans rubs against your clothed pussy, causing you to squirm from above him. You’re forced to bite back a whine, realizing that this was not the time nor the place to be getting all riled up.

Jake is extremely concentrated, choosing to ignore the growing erection in his pants. “Hand me the pliers,” he says, but it comes out more like a command. His toolbox sits next to you, the short distance being close enough for you rummage through it quickly. You subconsciously grind down on his crotch, surprised to feel the outline of his dick through the thick material of his jeans.

His hands instinctively travel to your hips again, a firm grip willing you to stop your movements. “Sorry,” you murmur, becoming drunk on the idea of Jake fucking you long and hard on the kitchen floor.

Jake lets out a small groan, the innocence in your voice seducing him even further. “Here,” you whisper, eyes locking with his for a second through your long, thick eyelashes. He takes the pliers from you, forcing himself to return to the task at hand.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

You squirm from above him, wiggling so you can feel him again. Usually you wouldn’t be this bold, but your pussy is hungry and your mind is drunk. Jake chases the feeling too, wishing there was nothing to restrict him from feeling you entirely.

“Don’t look at you like what?”

“Like you want to fuck me,” he replies sternly, the heels of his boots digging into the floor as he drags himself out from under the fryer. The cardboard makes it easier for him to slide out and he’s strong enough to bring you with him, eliciting a gasp from you as you place your hands on his chest to anchor yourself.

He sits up, his left arm immediately wrapping around your waist in the process. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, princess,” he smirks, pushing you down onto his crotch.

Your hands gingerly rest on his shoulders as you look at him through hooded eyes, were you really going to do this? The sexual tension is blinding you, causing you to make yet another bold remark.

“What if I do want to fuck you?”

“That’s fine, baby. Just don’t complain when it gets messy,” he replies coyly, pulling you further into him. Jake’s plump lips latch onto yours, metal lip rings digging into your face. The pain only eggs you on, your hands traveling up his neck and tangling into his hair.

“So eager,” he murmurs into the kiss, scrunching your dress up around your abdomen. His hands find your ass, slapping and kneading the skin in his firm grip. Moans are slipping from you, all of them being swallowed by Jake as he hungrily kisses you back. Your hips grind onto him again, desperate for release.

You’re whimpering, trying to feel as much of him as possible through the multiple layers of fabric that separate you. “Patience, baby,” he moans, but even he’s becoming impatient.

It comes to no surprise when you scoot back onto his thigh and feverishly unzip his pants, he doesn’t protest either, instead he watches eagerly. You make swift work of his pants, Jake lifts his hips to help you tug them off. “I want you to make a mess on my face,” you whisper, hopping off of Jake’s lap so you can wiggle further down.

The suggestion makes Jake’s dick twitch, precum spilling out from the tip and soaking into his boxers. You pull his boxers down and they pool around his ankles alongside his pants. His dick stands up straight, and it’s so big you begin to wonder if this was a good idea. How was that supposed to fit inside of you?

Jake knows exactly what you’re thinking, smirking at the sight of you gawking over the size of his cock. You’re brave though, so you crawl closer to him and slowly begin pumping his shaft. His head is immediately thrown back in pleasure, your touch alone almost being enough for him to spill his seed onto your hand.

You wrap your lips around the tip, your head inching down to the base slowly. If you go any faster, you’ll surely gag around his cock and start crying. “Just like that,” he groans, swooping some of your hair out of your face with one hand as the other holds his dick in place for you. Your lips kiss his hand as you take as much of his as possible, your throat struggling to keep up with the sheer size of him.

His hips thrust into your mouth, eliciting a gag from you that flips a switch in Jake. He wants to hear that sound again and again, so he holds your head firmly and guides it up and down his cock repeatedly. Each time you reach the tip, you gasp for air before he’s pushing you back down again. Saliva is dripping down your chin and bubbling at the corners of your mouth, tricking far enough to coat Jake’s penis entirely.

“Making such a big mess, beautiful,” he grunts, pulling you away from him to get a better look at your face. Streaks of mascara run down your face, your hair is all over the place, and saliva is actively dribbling down your chin. “Come here, let me ruin you,” he instructs, pulling you back down so he can coat your face and uniform in his cum.

He pumps his cock aggressively over your face, watching with a slack jaw as you close your eyes and allow his cum to paint your face. You’re glazed in the liquid, squealing slightly at the new sensation. “Yummy,” you giggle, licking your lips to gather as much of it on your tongue as possible.

Jake isn’t done though, he’s fully prepared to go another round with you, but this time with his dick balls deep in you. Right as you’re about to continue, you hear the front doorbell ring.

“Hello?” a customer asks, peering over the counter in search of an employee. Luckily, because you’re on the floor, you’re perfectly out of view. Jake gets an idea, immediately pulling you onto his lap and pushing your panties to the side so aggressively they rip.

“Sit,” he commands, aligning his cock with your entrance. You look at him in shock and whisper shout, “there’s a customer!” He’s unrelenting, dragging the tip of his cock up your folds as a response. You bite your lip, accepting the challenge as you sit on his thick dick.

A small gasp escapes your mouth once you bottom out, the girth of his cock stretching your walls.

“Hello? Anybody there?!” The customer shouts, tiptoeing to see behind the order window and into the kitchen. They’re becoming more and more impatient by the second.

You begin bouncing on Jake’s dick, his hands leaving prints all over your dress. You’re a whimpering mess, the stretch being both pleasureful and painful.

“C’mon, princess, is anybody there?” he taunts, sucking on the skin of your neck. You pull him in closer by his neck, moaning into his ear as quietly as possible.

“I just want a coffee!” the customer pleads, still trying to find at least one employee. Jake slaps your ass, silently instructing you to respond.

“Take a seat! I’ll be right with you,” you squeak out, trying not to sound like you’re getting your brains fucked out. Jake is satisfied with your response, arms wrapping around your waist as he pulls you down harder on him.

“You’re making me wait for a coffee?!”

Jake’s angles you forward so he can fuck you harder, his head resting on your chest. “I’m fixing the- fuck,” you begin, but Jake hits a spot inside of you that has you clenching around him. “What are you fixing?” Jake questions, loving how flustered you are.

“I’m fixing the fryer,” you spew out, the lame excuse annoying the customer further. The euphoric feeling in your pussy is enough to wash away any anxiety you feel, your walls clenching around Jake with each thrust.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he moans, his orgasm from earlier catching up to him. “Cum in me,” you demand, so drunk off his dick that you don’t realize what you said. The idea is enticing, so enticing that Jake doesn’t second guess it either.

One last thrust has him spilling his hot seed inside of you, the warm feeling sending you over the edge shortly after.

“Just a coffee! UNBELIEVABLE.”

“I’m coming,” you yelp, as your orgasm washes over you. You’re whimpering, moaning, and panting as you convulse around Jake’s cock. The statement puts a smirk on his face, you were definitely coming.

Once you come down from your orgasm, Jake is pulling you off of him slowly. You look like a beautiful mess. White liquid drips from your hole down your thighs, your underwear is ripped, your dress is stained from Jake’s oily hands, streaks of mascara run down your cheeks, your face is coated in cum, and your hair is tangled.

“Go get him his coffee,” Jake teases, watching as you slowly realize how crazy you look right now. He slaps your ass one last time before you’re hopping off of him, adjusting your dress and smoothing your hair down haphazardly.

You grab a napkin, running it across your face as you try and clean yourself up as best as possible. It’s no use, you look a mess. Without another word, you’re stumbling out into the lobby.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

BARK BARK BARK

First Jake story

MeOWWWWW

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn @mxqdii

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[banj0possum]

Yans (Or Yan(s) of your choice) reacting to discovering their darling is secretly a femboyysuhshbhbw s sbshshs a... ddhsja.. dkdjoa. .. .a .a... a.. (I was executed for my crimes)

Darling is a Femboy?!

All my OCs x Femboy! Reader

Note: Femboy meaning “feminine presenting boy” not an insult to trans women guys!! I promise i love you guys!!

CW: Weirdo behaviour from some of them!!, Reader is called feminine terms, Male Reader, a few nsfw themes (implied or minor)

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Secretly likes it : Adrian, Bo, Jasper, Victor, Baron, Wolfie, Axel

Doesn't show it much but he absolutely loves the way you look! So soft and feminine and cute, he fantasizes about you a lot because of it. Those clothes whether it's big or tight on you, it turns him on so much!! He loves letting you borrow his clothes that are always way larger than you and seeing your legs or midriff peek through. He'll steal your clothes once in a while and just take big whiffs of it and imagine your soft squishy thighs wrapped around his body while he hugs you close. As much as he want to feel it for himself, he'd rather let you initiate the intimate action first

🖤 Adrian makes fun of you for it. I mean you're so girly! You probably comb your hair with a dumb brush like a barbie or something? Do you use strawberry scented shampoo too you sissy? hahah...no seriously what do you use you smell so good. A-and whats with the clothes huh? You trying to like seduce him or something lol because its working

💀 You make him weak in the knees!! Bo has a habit of showing off his strength to both you and the horde, but with you all dressed up for him, he makes sure to flex and stand up straighter more often. Please praise him!! Tell him how strong and handsome he is!! He's too shy proud to beg but oh my god if you do it on you own accord he's gonna melt.

🥀 Fantasizes the most. Jasper has a diary that he'd rather die than show you thats full of entries all about you, how much he'd want to hold your soft hands, have you on his lap with your legs wrapped around you so he can have his hands on your precious thighs, or better yet he'd be inbetween them as you squeeze hard in your prettiest thigh highs- I mean what i me-

🌙 Think's about you drinking someone's blood in a beautiful black dress full of bows and lace. You'd look absolutely adorable all dolled up and covered in blood! Victor's salivating just thinking about it~! But of course he'd never tell it to the others, they'd make fun of him until sunrise or perhaps stal his own personal fantasy from him!

♠️ Steals your clothes the most. Any clothing item that's gone in the laundry's gotta go through Baron first, for security purposes of course! He's gotta make sure there aren't any trackers or bugs in there! also gotta take a quick whiff of it to make sure no one sprayed some kind of toxin or poison on you hahah...god you smell so sweet...

🍂 Why must you be so adorable!??? Wolfie can't help but want to cover you in all the soft hides and blankets he has in the den. He loves crawling under your oversized hoodie to give you kisses and licks while feeling your small warm body <3

🎸 Axel thinks you're the cutest/hottest thing to ever exist. He's the type to swoon over every single thing you do. Seeing you drink a pink berry smoothie makes him all red, Catching you readjusting your clothes and seeing a bit of your body is taking him to the ER from a bleeding nose. He'd never force you to dress in a certain way but oh my god imagine you in a baby rock outfit, all dressed up in punk clothing yet full of ruffles and bows and everything AAA!! He's a sucker for seeing you do the most metal stuff while dressed in soft pastel clothing.

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So cute!! : Brandon, Screw, Soda, Kalva, Silas, Caspian, Ashvan

Absolutely adores you!! He swoons, gushes, coos over how cute you are to whoever entertains the thought. If they find anything they think you'd like, doesn't matter how expensive it is, he wants to make you happy! Perhaps you'd reward him with a kiss? He's gotta buy this asap!!

🏈 Brandon's actually beggging the cheerleading squad to let you join please pleasee!! He wants to see you cheer him on during games!! He'd be practically drooling over you, even more if he'd think about how you'd look in a short cheerleading skirt and..no stockings~..hopefully he can buy a cheerleading outfit for you even if you're not in the squad..

💀 Screw and Soda both melt whenever you're around. They both love physical touch so they find a lot of comfort cuddling and nuzzling into you. That comfort is multiplied by 100 with you dressed up all cute and pretty. They love it when you wear your shorts. They drag you over to the bed so one of them can cuddle you with your legs on their shoulders and the other hugging you from behind.

🪶 Lovely lovely lovely!! You're so lovely!! It's like how males use bright colors to attract a mate. Your adorable pastel colors or fluffy soft clothes make you irresistible to Kalva! He loves it more when you wear clothes that show skin, it lets him feel his mate easier! You're so soft and smooth and aaaa so so small and cute! He's able to scoop you up and pull you close with his wings. No need for all that covering! Your mate will keep you warm! It's his excuse for wanting to bury his face in your chest

🌙 Silas loves you no matter what you want or wear, but of course whatever you choose to take interest in, it'll affect Silas greatly. With you being a femboy for instance, he becomes much softer towards you, always cooing or holding you close like a fragile doll. Whatever praises you want to hear, he'll say it. You want to be pretty? Well then you're the prettiest, most precious boy he's ever seen, no mortal can ever be as pretty as you my darling little turtledove~!

🌊 Literally no one will ever be as pretty as Caspian but OH MY GOD YOU'RE ADORABLE!!! He offers, no, BEGS to pamper you as much as he pamper's himself. Let him brush your hair, let him give you soft massages when your pretty little body gets tired at night, let him dress you up in the finest dresses Atlantis has to offer!! They're a little wet but they'd look adorable on you in the water!

🌾 Ashvan's so protective over you! It's no surprise that he'd have such a reaction to the way you look. There's no way you can protect yourself! You need a big strong protector like him! Sure you mowed down a whole horde of goblins on your own during a mission but he saw you trip and scrape your knee! So unsafe! He has to be there to make sure you're ok! You might see him linger around watching you. If you ever approach him to thank him with a little kiss to the nose, he's probably fainting on the spot.

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Encourages it : Valeth, Ribs, Dorik, Garrick, Hallow, Kagiri, Alistair

He spoils you to death! In fact, he might be the reason why your closet is filled to the brim with pretty clothes in the first place. He has a habit of doting over you because of it. It pushes his possessiveness and obsession through the roof! You have a lot of power over him that may or may not backfire. There's no limits to what he'll do for his pretty little boy..or what he'll do to you~..

⚔️ Valeth babys you every chance he gets. He might be a brutish orc, but he loves being gentle with you. He'll be the one to give you relaxing bubble baths, dress you up in the softest clothing, and feed you, all with the gentlest touch you've ever felt in your life. It does have its drawbacks however. He won't trust you in doing any kind of hard work. Why do that when you got your big strong man to do it for you? All you need to do is sit and be pretty for him~ Just like that little duckling~

💀 Ribs is literally shaking over it why do you look so so so s- AAA please sit on his lap sit on his lap please hes begging youo!! If you try to leave the bed while he's having a cuddle session with you, he's dragging you back, your nails scratching the floor and everything. He's a little bit insane about you ngl, the sight of you in a soft, oversized hoodie with your thighs squished together put his brain into overdrive. He unconsciously humps/rubs against you while you two hug, it's your choice whether you let him absolutely devour you or not~

🔥 Oh oh my god oh my god oh my- Dorik's begging, on his hands and knees, to get a taste of you!! Doesn't matter if it's a kiss or a lick or something more, he just wants a chance at tasting his sweet little master~! Are you all dressed up just for him? Is he getting a reward?? Oh please please say yes!! He's drooling buckets over the thought of touching you, just letting his hands wander all over your petite body, going under the snug fabrics that hug your figure oh so deliciously~ He'll burn any and every clothing item that isn't a crop top, thigh high, shorts or hoodie! All he wants is to love love love his pretty master!!

🌙 Garrick spoils you so much the others have to scold him for it. But what can he say? You're his little pookie bear honeypie babyboo loveydove- I'll shut up now. But srsly this man is FOUL!! He shares with you his fantasies of sinking his teeth in a pretty little lamb like you, so soft and warm~! He makes you shiver everytime he pulls away the cute dress he's bought for you just to lick at your skin and ghost his fangs over it. He loves seeing his little lamb squirm~!

🦋 Hallow's dressing you up in the prettiest of dresses and outfits!! Like a proper princess! He more or less treats you like a little doll. He's a lot like Valeth but you have a bit more freedom with him, he's just a little whiny and clingy. He loves gifting you cute clothes and accessories like cute skirts and bows and everything, but he also expects something in return~ A long cuddle session perhaps? Or a day of lying on your lap while you hum lullabies to him~? Ohhhh he just can't wait!!

🐉 Kagiri and his gang are gonna buy you the nicest clothes ever!! Well not really.. They look more like stuff a mafia boss' wife would wear like slim black dresses, fluffy scarves and stylish coats and blazers. Honestly you look amazing in anything to them! Whether it be a chiq dress you'd find in an expensive clothing store or an adorable poofy nightgown, they'll bombard you with compliments. They get a little loud whenever they talk about dressing you up in different outfits. They got a lot of warnings for talking about your thighs and chest so loudly.

👑Alistair objectifies you. Calls you his cute little doll, his plaything, his his his! You serve no purpose other than being pretty for him and only him. He expects you to be in the cutest of clothes (that he chooses for you of course) at all times, especially after any meetings or work he had to endure. He wants you ready to give him the softest of cuddles to help him recharge from a harrowing day of being away from you. Oh and yes, you must bathe with him if ever he asks. Your skin must be maintained to be smooth and soft! He'll take that job of gently cleaning your petite little body for you (yes yes no need to thank him) and yeah, the bath is rose scented.

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊◜ A harmless movie date turns steamy when fem!reader and Yuuji have the theater to themselves.

『 ♡ y.itadori  x fem!reader 』 ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — first time writing yuuji! i wanted to make it sweet and sensual at the same time, so hopefully it reads that way! -`✧ yuuji itadori masterlist

You spent an embarrassing amount of time on your hair, makeup and picking out an outfit for your date with Yuuji. Loose curls, pastel eyeshadow with wispy lashes to match your freshly manicured nails, and a cute skirt with your favorite top.

Too bad he’s making a mess of it all in the darkness of the movie theater.

“Mmph, Yuu…fuck!” You attempt to cover your mouth in time to silence yourself and fail miserably.

“Yes, baby?” Yuuji sighs as he pulls away from your sticky center, half lidded honey irises gazing up at you like you’re a star in the sky.

Your eyes fall downward to the your bubblegum boyfriend in awe. Your skirt is shoved halfway up your ribcage, pink panties stretched around your ankles while your thighs rest comfortably atop Yuuji’s shoulders. He’s got you on the edge of the folding theater chair to be sure you don’t leave a too much mess, and to let you watch him obliterate you with his tongue.

His hands grip the plush of your thighs, squeezing and rubbing them daintily as he sensually devours you, agonizingly slow and purposeful. Every single swipe of his tongue and pop of his lips are intentional - calculated, even. Yuuji knows what drives you wild versus what doesn’t after being with you for a few months. It was experimental and sloppy at the start of your relationship, but once he got the hang of things, his confidence skyrocketed - your constant praise helped of course, too. He never thought he’d be the type to be so excited by it, but your sweet nothings never cease to make him melt.

Another mewl spills from your glossy lips as he dives back between your thighs, rocking your hips forward to silently beg him for more.

“You’re…so hot like this,” you whimper, hand traveling to fist his salmon locks. “Like you can’t get enough of me.”

Yuuji chuckles, the vibrations tugging on the rubber band in your belly, pulling taut and ready to snap. He gently takes the your hands and interlaces his fingers with yours, holding them as your thighs are quaking with anticipation. He was always a sucker for holding hands during sex of any kind and reminded you just how much of a sweetheart he is.

Your walls clamp down on his tongue, locking him in place as your release washes over you, flooding from your core and all over his face. Chest heaving and a bead of sweat rolling out from under your bangs, you sink into the chair as he laps up every ounce of your arousal. Your cheeks and neck are beat red in the afterglow of your orgasm - Yuuji’s favorite thing about you. You look like a goddess to him when you come, blissed out and angelic as your lashes flutter with delight.

With one last flick of his tongue, he removes your legs from his shoulders and sits back on his knees with a grin on his face. He’s enamored with how beautiful you look under the dim light of the theater, wondering how he got so lucky to find someone as pretty as you.

You shimmy back into your panties and ruffle your skirt back into place, smoothing out the wrinkles the best you could. Yuuji moves back to the seat next to you, leaning over to help fix your hair. He thumbs away a smudge of your eyeliner from the corner of your eye - he knows you’re going to check your makeup any second now to be sure it meet your own standards.

Instead, you bend over and give him multiple soft kisses on his cheek, nuzzling your face against his.

“Thank you,” you whisper, even though there’s no one else in the theater. “Can I do anything for you, babe?”

Yuuji shakes his head. “Nah, that can wait for later.” He kisses your forehead and finds your hand to hold once again. “I got impatient. Your thighs are so inviting in that skirt, baby.”

“Guess I should wear skirts more often,” you tease, booping him on the nose playfully. “I like keeping my good boy on his toes.”

That makes his cheeks flush, your praise going straight to his groin. You notice his reaction and giggle, resting your head on his shoulder peacefully as you squeeze his hand in your hold. “We can skip the rest of the movie if you don’t want to wait.”

Yuuji jumps to his feet excitedly, tugging you along with him. “I’ve seen this movie twice already, let’s go!”

was inspired by @kweenkatsuki-fics to finally dive into writing yuuji! hopefully this isn't too ooc for him~ ♡

[caitlynscat]

Aunty Yoko visits the Sinclair-Addams household

The vampire stands in front of the door of Enid and Wednesday’s new house. Before she can even knock, the door swings open. There to greet her is a tall, beautiful blonde woman eager to see her best friend.

Enid: YOKO! It’s been so long!

The werewolf throws herself at the vampire almost knocking her over. The two embrace each other.

Yoko: Wow, Sinclair. I say you’ve aged pretty gracefully.

Enid: Awww, thank you, darling. And you….. haven’t changed a bit. How old are you now?

Yoko: Hardy har har. What about you? Thirty looks good on you.

Enid: Oh god I hope so. Come on in.

The two girls walk into the house. The interior was, surprisingly colorful. Full of pastel pink, blue and purple. As bright and flamboyant as it is, it doesn’t clash. Really throws Yoko off.

Yoko: Holy shit. Are you and Wednesday still married?

Enid: Yoko! Don’t even joke about that!

Yoko: I’m just asking! I mean look at this place. Your gothic princess wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this.

Enid: Oh you know I have my ways, Tanaka.

Yoko: She can’t say no to you, can she?

Enid: Of course! She loves me too much!

The two girls enter the living room where they sit on the couch together.

Yoko: Where is she anyway?

Enid: Oh she’s upstairs. She’s just taking care of one of our little ones.

Yoko: Oh yeah! I still haven’t seen your child yet! Wait ones? How many do you have?

Enid: Oh we have…… six.

Yoko: SIX KIDS?!

Enid: Six…. girls…. and four boys.

Yoko: YOU HAVE TEN CHILDREN?!

Right as Yoko yells, one of their little ones runs down to greet Yoko and Enid. She can’t be more than ten years old, has black hair with white streaks and bright ember eyes.

Yoko: Oh hello little one.

Enid: Baby, why don’t you tell aunty Yoko your name?

Daughter 1: Hello. My name is [NAME]

Yoko: Awww. What a nice name. You really look like your mother. I mean Wednesday.

Daughter 1: *turns to Enid* mother, may I please play some music in the living room?

Enid: Yes, go ahead sweetie.

The little one runs off.

Yoko: Wow, she’s literally like Wednesday.

The little one chooses her music and plays it. Loud, blaring, rock and roll music play. It catches Yoko completely off guard.

Daughter 1: I will just be here to read if that’s okay.

Enid: That’s totally fine, dear!

Yoko: Okay never mind! She’s not like Wednesday at all!

The vampire watches as the little one sits on the couch across from them, silently reading a book.

Yoko: How can she possibly read with music that loud?

Enid: It just helps her!

The two escape the living room to the kitchen.

Enid: Do you want to see the other children? Wednesday’s upstairs with them.

Yoko: The other nine? Oh god. That’s a lot of kids.

Enid: I know it’s a lot but thank you for taking your time to babysit them.

Yoko: BABYSIT?! WAIT HOLD ON-

Enid: Yeah! You said you could babysit for our kids!

Yoko: I thought you had one! Two at most not TEN! Enid, wait-

Enid, already running up the stairs: I’m gonna go tell Wednesday! Thank you for doing this for us!

Yoko:

Yoko: Ten kids….. I have to call Divina.

[tojiphile]

summary. suguru geto wants you, desperately. so much so that he's conjuring up reminders that he's still on your mind. | one-sided suguru geto x reader

cw/ tw. fem!reader, roommates, light gojo x reader, panties sniffing, nudes received by an unintended person, for 18+ readers

suguru geto hates to admit it, but he's a fucking pervert. to the world, suguru geto is impressive—one of the best jujutsu sorcerers of the modern era. to you, his roommate, he’s all that, and also a funny, smart and kind guy, who’s best friend you happened to take an interest in.

suguru can’t act like he doesn’t know how you change when satoru is around. when satoru comes over, you change into tighter, skimpier dresses, leaning over just enough to give satoru a glimpse of your cleavage (he’d lower his sunglasses to get a better view). satoru isn’t oblivious, and during movie nights found excuses to slip an arm around your waist or place a lingering hand on your bare thigh.

suguru hates it. you, his kind, beautiful and wonderful roommate, falling for his best friend’s charms. of all people, why did you have to go after satoru? of all people, why couldn’t you have gone after suguru instead? he doesn’t understand.

suguru does everything for you. he cooks, he cleans, he even does your goddamn laundry. so when an instax photo of you happens to fall out of your pocket, suguru doesn’t bat an eye before deciding to keep it. it’s a photo of you, in flimsy lingerie that didn’t cover any part of your breasts, exposing your perky nipples. you wore a bunny ear headband, using one hand to toy with it. leaning forward and spreading your thighs slightly, you were acting so coy. “to S. G.” it read. suguru knew it was most probably your latest attempt at seducing satoru, but he wanted more to believe that you meant for him to find it.

yes, you felt bad that you were paying satoru so much more attention that you wanted to give suguru a little something. if not, why would you leave it in your pocket? you knew suguru did your laundry. yes, you wanted him to find it. you wanted him. suguru. suguru only.

suguru has his own head spinning, but his blood is unmistakably rushing downwards. he tugs on the waistband of his sweats and lets his thick cock spring free, already rock hard, leaking at the tip. he grips it loosely, tending to it with languid strokes as he admires your instax photo. you look so, so gorgeous. almost bare, you look like a bunny, ready to be devoured.

he takes a breather, stopping himself before he came on the spot and notices, in your laundry basket, a pair of your cute pastel pink panties. he grabs it roughly, bringing it close to his face and taking a whiff of your scent. your raw, unfiltered self, straight from your core. immediately, he’s obsessed. he brings your panties to his cock and starts rubbing them, trying to mingle your scents together.

suguru groans out loud as he takes another glance at the instax photo, pumping himself faster as he imagines what he’d do if you’d just let him. his eyes squeeze shut, thinking of fantasy scenarios all involving you. he knows that you’ve not only let satoru fuck you, you’ve invited an endless list of men in too. suguru knows, he’s only one room over. each time as he cracks your door open just to watch, he thinks, when is it my turn?

if you’d let him, suguru would be on his knees, hands spreading your thighs apart and lapping at your sopping cunt like a starving man. when the pleasure is too much for you, he’d hold you steady if you tried to squirm out. “let me take care of you,” he’d whisper, looking up at you with those puppy dog eyes, pleading for you to let him keep going. when you nod, he’s back, slipping his tongue into you, using a thumb to rub little circles around your clit.

or, if you’d let him, suguru would press you up against the window, bare breasts making your nipples harden against the cool glass. he would fuck you from the back, gripping you by the waist to pull him out before slamming himself balls deep back in. he wants the whole world to see that it’s him fucking you. not a stranger, not gojo, him. “tell me who you fucking belong to,” suguru would growl as you mewled, brain struggling to work. you didn’t respond and suguru retorted with a heavy handed spank, causing red to bloom where he’d hit you. “answer me, whore.”

god, he wants you so bad. he strokes himself faster, panties in hand, bringing himself to the edge of ecstasy. his mind is filled with nothing but images of you, you, you, you, you, you-

“suguru? what are you doing?”

suguru’s eyes snap open. standing by the door, oh god, you.

[omorashiect]

James grabbed at his dick over his pants. He wore pale pink panties with a little bow at the front, light coloured jeans, and a pastel pink hoodie.

"Mommy, please can I go? I really need to pee!"

"No baby, you can hold it a little longer for mommy, can't you?"

"I-I don't know..." James squirmed and grabbed tighter. His cock was half hard. The panties, which were probably not made for someone with a cock, were tight against his penis and were slightly damp from precum, piss, and sweat. Lydia, James' mommy, giggles to herself as she watches James' panicky face as he tries to hold his cock even tighter. He's humping his hand slightly, letting out little moans that make Lydia's pussy tingle.

"Please Mommy? Pretty please with cherries on top?"

"No, the more you ask the more I'll make you hold it." That shut James up. He stuck to whining and grabbing desperately at his penis. Soon he was leaking every few minutes, a solid stream that went for a few seconds. His wet clothes clung to him, showing a clear bulge where James' cock was. His jeans were so light that they now showed that he was wearing pink panties. James still tried to hold on, despite being covered in his own piss. Eventually he couldn't hold it, pissing all over himself. His cock hardened fully, the feeling of his wet panties clinging to his boner turned him on even more.

"M-mommy? I-I'm done peeing now," James said. His face was bright red. Despite his empty bladder, he kept squirming and had his hands clutching his cock.

"Did baby have an accident?" Lydia asked, smiling.

James looked down in shame, "yes mommy. I had a big accident."

"Move your hands," Lydia ordered, gesturing to James' hands still clutching his penis. James moved his hands and Lydia could see his large boner in his pink panties. She pulled down James' jeans and removed his sweatshirt, but kept his panties on. James' cock twitched excitedly.

"Please can I fuck you Mommy?" James begged. His mommy nodded and removed his panties and her clothes.

James laid on the floor and Lydia climbed on top. She rocked her hips forward and back, up and down. James was moaning and whimpering loudly in a matter of seconds. He soon came in Lydia's soaked pussy.

"I love you Mommy"

[eggtartz]

✧ 23th October ✧

Sanzu Haruchiyo // Breaking The Doll (f! sugar baby reader)

kinktober masterlist

warnings : lost of virginity, implied bimbo reader, implied overstimulation

your pink hairband twisted as your hair turned into a ponytail as you sitting in front of the mirror in satisfaction. you combed your hair neatly, placing a little ribbon and hair clips as well. "haru, do i look okay?" you turned your sugar daddy of six months. he looked up from his phone and smiled "you look good, baby. you should use the lipstick i bought you the other day, i like the color on your lips" he said.

a few months back, you were a struggling college student who desperately needed money so in coincidence, he offered to be your sugar daddy. in return, he wanted you to be his company. despite the weird looks and opinions of your relationship, you and sanzu had a quite stable relationship that hasn't evolved anywhere yet. not even sex.

"haru, how come you never want to have sex with me?" you pouted, playing with your hair "is it because i'm too young for you?" you asked again. he smiled warmly "do you want to? i'm not sure if that's what you really want, losing your virginity hurts you know?" he huskily whispered the last sentence that made send a jolt to your core. "i mean.. if it's you, i don't think it would hurt, would it?"

oh, you were a brat and a temptress mixed up in one luscious body. sanzu had to grip on the chair he's sitting on to stay calm and gentle, making you afraid and panic isn't one of his goals. "well, it would still." he said "but we can start slow, do you want that?" your face instantly lit up and you hopped in excitement "let's have sex!" you squealed, sanzu having to hide his erection.

sanzu was intending to be gentle but hell, the sight of your pink skirt hitched to your waist and your pastel panties he has bought last week already slightly damp is making him dizzy. all he wants is bury his face into your pussy that would definitely frighten you so he slowly caressed your covered cunt, making you whine. "a-ah, haruu.."

sanzu was going to break you slow, build you up again and repeat the same process because you were so pretty, so enticing. "patience.." his tone was stern, one hand on your lower lips and one ever so slightly tapping your clit. he could see the cotton panties you're wearing are getting wetter as he smirked. he bought one finger, inserting slowly to your still covered pussy. he wasn't doing direct penetration, only enough to make you frustrated.

"so wet, baby. soiling all over your panties, huh?" he chuckled, making sure to caress your sensitive bud and you started to pant. "n-no.. p-please.. need something inside.." you mewled sweetly.

however sanzu shook his head "no baby, we agreed to do it slowly. have your dumb, little brain forgot that?" he teased as your toes curl, wetness pooling the center of your panties. the dampness was apparent as sanzu pulled out his long cock from his pants. you drooled at the sight of it but he held you down "nu-uh, not today sweet doll" he cooed.

he tapped the head on your soiled panties as you jolted at the sensation, his hard dick making barely any friction towards your pussy. it was something else and you imagined how good it must feel when it's inside. "haru.. need it.. please.. promise it won't hurt" you bit your lip.

sanzu was quiet as he pushed your panty aside, inserting his hard rod in the fabric and caressed your lower lips with his slit. he teased, making sure to coat his cock with your precum. he slowly thrusted againts your entrance, not making any penetration yet. "harruuu! put it in!" you whimpered, rocking your hips

"patience, i said we'll take it slow" he hissed. you let out breathy moans as you felt his head barely grazing your heat, just barely making friction. you're losing your mind, your senses as you feel like you'd do anything for at least an inch of his dick. "haru please.. just the tip? please?" your eyes were teary as drooled dribbled down ok your chin, your nose was sniffling as your neat hair earlier has already loosened up.

sanzu was endeared, the sight of his broken doll was enough for him to finally give her what she wants. "just the tip" he said, slowly penetrating your hymen and into your cunt. it was deep shallow thrusts but you were moaning, your voice cracked as you smiled. "ah! so good! i wanna have sex with you everyday haruuu! everyday!" you squealed as he thrusted inside, giving your virgin pussy a stretch as he rubbed your clit to help you loosen up.

"pretty doll. you're mine, you hear that? so pretty, all for me" he said, a tinge of sadist in his voice but you didn't cared. you could feel the head of his cock barging into your insides as you felt yourself drowning, tongue lolled out in pure lust. "damn it! so pretty, all broken for me!" sanzu grunted, adding his pace as your thighs cramped and your cunt tighten. "cumming!" you joyfully announced as sanzu pulled out his cock, spraying white cum on your panties.

he smiled with satisfaction with your dazed face, as you twitched and babbled words. "haruu.. haru.." you mumbled. he kissed your forehead, softly caressing your body. "you did well, baby"

[maddiethedogstories]

Sarah's Playground - 2

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

As I open the door to my apartment, I'm greeted by the beautiful plants, ample daylight, and modern furniture that suits my mature tastes so well. Little things give away the presence of my little 'guest' in the house though.

A large mesh-sided playpen full of stuffies, dolls, and blocks is shoved into a corner of the living room. An extra large highchair sits in the dining room, with a bottle still perched on the tray. Rather than a recliner in the living room, there is a large rocking chair. Also, sitting out on one side table is a hospital quality breast pump.

Looking at the breast pump causes me to rub my breasts. They feel warm, hard to the touch, and tender. Just the act of touching them causes them to leak milk into my bra. It's definitely time to feed the baby! I must have taken longer on my walk then I planned.

I quickly walk to the hallway in my apartment and open the second door on the right. I can't help but smile as the smell of the room hits me before I can even see it. The room has an overwhelming odor of lavender baby powder and bleach that almost covers up the underlying smell of ammonia and messy diapers. In essence, it smells like a daycare or nursery, exactly how I want it to.

As I open the door and look inside I'm greeted by a familiar sight. The room is a fully stocked nursery, but sized up to handle an adult baby. An extra large, fully stocked changing table sits along one wall next to a large diaper pail. Set into another wall is a closet with white doors which, I know, is filled with onesies, baby dresses, fleece pajamas, and other baby clothes sized up to fit my precious little one.

Next to the closet is a large toy chest. Beyond the standard baby toys, it also contained more adult toys I let my charge use for my own pleasure and entertainment. There is nothing more fun than watching a fully grown adult, wearing a poopy diaper and sucking on a pacifier, hump her favorite stuffy while pushing a vibrator into her crotch. The combination of arousal, submission, and humiliation is perfect.

Finally, placed against another wall of the room is a queen-sized crib with locking railings that reach 6' into the air. It's the perfect location to keep my precious little adult baby safe and contained while I am out.

I look to the crib and see exactly what I am expecting. Crouched on her knees is a five-foot tall woman wearing a pastel pink onesie with the phrase "Mommy's Little Pampers Packer" emblazoned across the front. Her small but noticeable breasts push against the soft fabric of her onesie. The onesie is also stretched almost to its limits around the woman's waist and bottom where the extra large, and, based on what I am smelling, extra messy, diaper is taped onto her. The small woman's blonde hair is cut short and styled into short pigtails high on her head. A pacifier is tucked snuggly between her lips. Above her pacifier, the woman glares at me angrily. She looks exactly like the petulant toddler I have strived to turn her into. I subconsciously reach up and rub my magic necklace between my thumb and forefinger in satisfaction.

The woman in front of me, Lidia, despite all appearances, is four years older than me. We grew up on the same street, and our mom's were best friends. Growing up, Lidia was the stereotypical perfect girl. She was beautiful, a straight 'A' student, a varsity soccer player, and the most popular kid at school. Basically, everything about her stood in stark distinction to the pants wetting adult toddler locked in the crib in front of me right now.

In contrast, growing up, I was always a little small and immature. My mom was a helicopter parent who didn't want me participating in anything where I could get hurt or into trouble. I wasn't allowed to play sports, go to sleepovers, or even have a boyfriend or girlfriend.

My mom also didn't trust me. She always saw me as a small child, all the way until I was 18. So, whenever she left town or had something to do at night, she'd call Lidia's mom and have the neighborhood's golden child come over and babysit me.

Having your mom hire a babysitter at 16 was bad enough, but Lidia was the worst. Lidia had a dark side that no one knew about or even believed when I told people about it.

I was a bedwetter growing up, and, as my babysitter, Lidia knew all about it. I eventually grew out of it at 13, but that didn't keep Lidia from blackmailing me with it. You see, when Lidia babysat me, she thought it was hilarious to treat me like her little baby doll. I had to comply, or Lidia threatened to reveal how long I was a bedwetter to my classmates. I was already a social outcast and knew that information would ruin me.

So, everytime my mom would hire Lidia, within minutes of her leaving I would find myself wearing nothing but a diaper and shirt, sucking on a pacifier, sitting on a baby blanket in my living room, and watching Cocomelon while Lidia laughed at me. I have horrible memories of spending entire weekends being forced to act like a toddler by perfect little Lidia. It was horrible.

As a result, when I realized the power I had, one of the first things I did was turn the tables on Lidia. I shrunk her down as I made myself bigger. I took away her independence, changing her reality so she lived with her parents again. I made her a bedwetter. I made it so her parents, like my mother so long ago, didn't trust her, and hired me to babysit her.

From there, just like she did to me, I've blackmailed her over time to becoming my personal adult toddler. Without changing her, I've changed reality such that Lidia was forced to choose to become my plaything--choosing to act like a toddler rather than being forced to--despite remembering everything that happened prior to me reshaping reality. Watching her devolve to my naughty little girl by choice, all while I know she remembers bullying me, has been the most satisfying part of using my new found powers.

Now, after months of Lidia agreeing to be my permanent baby doll, I can't help but smile as she glowers at me, locked in her crib, sitting in a poopy diaper.

"Oh, my little pamper packer is awake! It smells like you made Mommy a present? Did you make me a present, Lidia?" I say as I walk up to the crib, stick my hand between the bars and rub her cheek affectionately.

Lidia scrunches up her nose behind the pacifier and I can see her willing herself to act like a toddler to avoid any punishments.

"Yeth, Momma! Lidy makes poopies for Momma!" Lidia lisped out from behind her pacifier with a false sweetness to her tone.

"Good baby!" I say as I reach over to unlatch the side of the crib and begin lowering it. "With such a full diapy, I bet Lidia has an empty tummy. Let's get it all filled up with some of Mommy's num-nums."

I watch as Lidia grimaces at the idea of suckling at my test and carefully avoids putting her weight onto her poopy diaper. I know, from history, that she wants to ask me for a change before she eats. I also know that she knows she is not allowed to ask for a change.

"Yeth, Momma, Lidy 'ungry," Lidia tells me as I lift her from her crib and place her on my hip, making sure to mush as much if her mess into her butt as possible as I carry her out into the living room and sit in the couch.

"Good, baby, because Mommy needs you to empty me out!" I say as I sit down, laying Lidia on the couch with her head in my lap and pop her pacifier out of her mouth. I pull out my breasts, exposing my nipples that are now dripping with my creamy white milk.

Lidia looks at my massive, milky breasts with disgust. She then shuffles her body in discomfort, probably trying to get to where she can't feel the shit sitting in the back of her pants. But, as she is expected to, she opens her mouth like a hungry baby and waits for me to help her latch.

I smile in satisfaction at how well trained Lidia is now. Hundreds, if not thousands, of punishments, tears, and public humiliations have turned Lidia from the bully who loved to play mommy to my perfect bratty little girl.

I grab Lidia by the back of the head and pull her mouth up to my left breast. I moan in pleasure as she begins to suckle, relieving the pressure that's been building for hours. I run my hand through Lidia's hair lovingly.

"That's it, good girl," I moan out as Lidia continues to suckle.

The relief of pressure, the dominant feelings I am having, and the knowledge of how much Lidia hates this is incredibly arousing. Like almost every time I feed Lidia, I'm tempted to rub myself. I resist though, and settle for throwing my head back and closing my eyes, imagining what tortures I can work up for Lidia next.

While my eyes are closed, I feel Lidia's hand drift up to my breast and begin to press. I'm not concerned by this. She does this often to help fully empty me, and, frankly, the pressure feels good.

I keep my eyes closed and moan as she suckles me with her mouth and milks me with her hand. I didn't notice as her hand drifted to the magically ruby pendant on my necklace. I didn't feel her grip it firmly in her fist.

Before I realize what is happening, I did feel Lidia unlatch from my breast and hear her rapidly call out a wish.

NEXT CHAPTER

[squadmuse]

ONE DAY IN OCTOBER - Part II

A MATT CASEY X HALSTEAD!OFC FIC (Charlotte Halstead Casey)

A/N: Part two is here, and it’s slowly but steadily getting more and more exciting! 🔥 Please read & review what you think. This is set in s7 btw. PART I

Charlotte nodded absentmindedly as she walked over to her locker and opened it up. “Yeah that’s a good idea, but I might go home and sleep.”

“It’s been a while since the two of you have had one on one time together,” stated Will as he slouched against the cool metal furniture, his brown eyes watching as his sister shoved her pale pink stethoscope away and fumbled around in her handbag. “You could always nap there, it’s past morning now so he’ll be home like always.”

Turning to face Will, Charlotte hummed indecisively. Her brother did make a good point. She could easily nap at their dad’s new apartment and catch up with him still. “You make a good point.”

“Well, I’ve been known to have good ideas, Tater,” laughed Will as he moved to help his sister into her jacket.

Charlotte narrowed her eyes at his reply and giggled loudly at it. “Was Veronica Maguire in high school one of those good ideas, Billy?” she returned, smiling cheekily.

“Ok, that was one of my bad ideas,” stated Will as he remembered back to his high school prom. Veronica’s father had chased him for what felt like half of Canaryville, all because she and Will had made out that night. “But usually I’m a fountain of good ideas!”

Charlotte couldn’t help the snort that slipped out, and it caused both Halstead siblings to laugh hard. “Well, aside from Veronica and some other questionable ideas I’ve seen from you, I’ll agree that seeing Pop is a better one. I can make sure he’s doing well, and his meds are working for him still.”

“He’s a stubborn old guy, but he’s not stupid,” said Will as he locked up Charlotte’s locker for her and began to walk with her out of the room.

“If you say so,” replied Charlotte as she pulled her handbag higher up on her shoulder. “Like Mom used to say, we’ve all got that well-meaning Halstead spunk that makes us do stupid things.”

The two siblings laughed again at their Mom’s old joke. Charlotte knew she was lucky to have such a close bond with not only Will, but Jay also, and especially after they had lost their mother.

“Mom would kick his ass if he didn’t take his meds, probably will do so from heaven.”

“Damn right.”

It didn’t take long for Charlotte to leave Med, saying goodbye to Will in her dark blue SUV. He had made sure to walk there, even though he did not need to.

The two had decided that if Charlotte was going to go visit their dad, that she should pick up his prescriptions and some healthy food. Pat Halstead was a great connoisseur of all things fatty and greasy, which, after a quadruple bypass, wasn’t the best choice at all. Luckily, there were both stores on the way to the new apartment.

She had left Will at Med just after half nine, and after sending a quick text to Matt saying she had just left and for him to stay safe, Charlotte had happily arrived home and promptly fell asleep.

This pregnancy was definitely taking more and more out of her, especially if she didn’t keep moving or occupied. But Charlotte knew she wouldn’t have it any other way, both her and Matt wanted nothing more than their own baby, and this little one inside her was so wanted and cherished already.

Charlotte had never seen her dad cry other than when her mom had died and when she had married Matt, but Pat had teared up when she had told him he was going to be grandpa. He had already been helping Matt put together ideas for the nursery, the two bonding over their love of carpentry, woodworking and construction.

Standing in the doorway of the pastel green nursery after waking from her nap, Charlotte smiled at the painted white rocking chair next to the window. Even with a serious heart condition and waiting for his surgery, her dad had determinedly made the chair for his future grandchild’s first room. It was beautiful and she had definitely cried a ton.

Sighing, Charlotte decided to go take a quick shower and then head out to see her dad. Like Will had said, their dad had a routine and would be home now, most likely watching a baseball game on the television.

The sun was still shining as Charlotte drove through the streets of Chicago, and it just seemed like a good day to her.

It had been a quick effort to pick up some healthy foods for her dad, including some homemade low-cholesterol ready meals that she had found in the food store. The pharmacy had taken a little while longer, but Charlotte didn’t mind, and she had made sure to pick up a new oxygen tank with a mask for her dad. Luckily, he wouldn’t need to use it. But it was always good to have if the need appeared out of nowhere.

Even the loving text and sweet voicemail that Matt had left while she was asleep had made her mood even more irreversibly chipper, but her husband always had that effect on her. It just felt like one of those days where nothing could or would go wrong and Charlotte was happily relishing in it as she sang along to Taylor Swift in the car.

When she did finally arrive at the new high rise apartment building, Charlotte made sure to find a parking spot around the back. It was usually used only by the building’s occupants, but her dad had given her his permission badge to display it in her own car. He didn’t want her walking too far nowadays at six months pregnant.

Charlotte had just opened the trunk of her car and was bringing out the groceries and pharmacy bags, when she felt someone appear at her side and her green eyes quickly darted to her right-hand side and to the figure who stood there. Gasping, Charlotte placed a hand on her chest.

“Mrs Aquino, goodness you scared me there!” exclaimed Charlotte softly as she quickly smiled at the older woman. Her husband, Mr. Aquino, or Bert as he liked to be called, had been a friend of her dad’s since he had moved in, and Charlotte always made sure to be polite to the couple. It wasn’t hard, they were lovely.

Mrs. Aquino waved her hand dismissively. “My apologies dear, I just saw you on your own and had to come help!” she replied sweetly, moving to take two of the bags from her, leaving Charlotte with two also. “I still haven’t met that lovely husband of yours yet, we keep seeming to miss each other.”

“Yeah, Matt doesn’t have normal shifts at the firehouse,” replied Charlotte as she and Mrs. Aquino moved to walk into the building lobby. “That and his construction company keeps him busy, but I know he’d love to meet you too.”

Mrs. Aquino nodded as she pressed the elevator button. “He sounds like a good man, and that is all you can ask for nowadays,” stated the elder woman, glancing up at Charlotte with a wise look in her eyes. “I’m sure he’ll be a great father to your little one.”

“That I know,” replied Charlotte, unable to keep the broad smile off her face at the mention of her husband as a father. She and everyone around knew Matt Casey was perfect fatherhood material and would excel at it. “This little one is very lucky to have him.”

Luckily, there were not many people getting on the elevator today, and Charlotte didn’t have much time to talk to Mrs. Aquino as they approached the twentieth floor, where she lived. Promising to keep in touch, they had said goodbye, and Charlotte had kept herself in the elevator until it reached the twenty-third floor, where her father’s new apartment was.

Coughing slightly, she stepped out onto the soft carpet and made her way down the corridor to apartment 23C, the home of one Patrick Joseph Halstead. The door was unlocked when Charlotte went to open it as she knocked, which was unsurprising.

“Pop?” called Charlotte out into the apartment as she closed the door behind her. “It’s me, Charlotte.”

Pat Halstead’s head popped out of the kitchen doorway, and he smiled ever so slightly before making his way over to his daughter as he gave her a one-armed hug. She was the only one he ever really smiled at or showed affection to nowadays, since his wife and her mom had died.

“What are you doing here, Charlie Bear?” asked a surprised Pat Halstead, using his own nickname for his only daughter.

Charlotte rolled her eyes at her dad’s comment. “What do you think?” she replied, chuckling slightly, motioning to the bags on the ground. “Here to spend some time with my old man!”

Pat grumbled. “I don’t need you taking care of me girl, you have enough to do,” he told Charlotte, but he quickly took the bags from her. “I bet that idiot bellhop downstairs didn’t help you with the bags?”

“Pop, he’s a receptionist, not a bellhop,” sighed Charlotte as she followed her father into his kitchen. He had the window open, and there was a great view of Chicago from where Charlotte found herself among the white tiles and gray walls.

Pat waved his hand in the air. “Bullshit, you’re pregnant, and he didn’t help. What kind of man doesn’t help a pregnant woman?”

“I parked around behind, so I didn’t see him and Mrs. Aquino took some until we got to the elevator,” replied Charlotte as she pulled out one of the kitchen table’s chairs and sat down. “Oh, apparently Bert wants to know if you’re going to poker night next week by the way.”

Pat nodded as he sorted through the bags, huffing whenever Charlotte tried to get up and help. “I’ll call him later, Ronnie won big time last time,” he said, looking back at her.

“That’s good, how is Ronnie?” asked Charlotte. She had met Ronnie a few times now, and he was a nice guy. Her dad seemed to look out for him as he was in a wheelchair after a wartime injury.

“Doing well, got into a new VA group yesterday morning.”

“That’s great news,” said Charlotte happily, her eyes alight with genuine joy for the veteran. “We could go see him with some lunch. I brought bagels and soup with more than enough for us both.”

Pat agreed before going silent as he opened up the pharmacy bag.

“You can go on ahead, I’m just going to find somewhere to shove this blasted thing,” he grumbled, pointing at the new oxygen tank.

“Hey, don’t attack it, you never know when you might need it,” replied Charlotte seriously.

“I’m fine. It’s just heart surgery that I’ve had, and you four kids keep treating me like I’m some sort of cripple!” retorted Pat as he walked out of the room, leaving Charlotte alone with her thoughts.

After a while, Charlotte decided to go up to see Ronnie herself as she knew her dad would eventually make his way up to the twenty-fifth floor apartment.

Leaving Pat to watch yet another baseball game, she smiled and made her way to the elevator for the second time that day, and pressed a painted nail against the little button to open it up.

However, it was as she stood there waiting, that Charlotte noticed that the elevator didn’t seem to be working all of a sudden and she harrumphed loudly. Now she was going to have to walk up two floors of stairs while six months pregnant and then two back down to her dad’s apartment.

She just hoped that it would be working again later, the thought of walking twenty-three floors of stairs down to the bottom made Charlotte want to burst into tears.

Undeterred, the youngest Halstead continued on her way and pushed open the door to the south stairway. It was only then that she smelled a scent that was oddly familiar, as if someone had burned a roast or something similar. Shaking her head, Charlotte started to climb the way up to the top floor.

It was probably nothing.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Genuinely curious why you say Gwen Stacy is a woc. Like I agree she’s trans and pastel punk, but I’d like to hear more about why you headcanon her Latina. I’m white btw so I didn’t feel like I knew enough to speak about this subject and wanted your opinions please. Also, if it’s not too much trouble, can you talk more about her being punk too because I don’t really know enough about any of that either

What a good(and respectfully worded)ask!!!Thanks,i'll gladly ramble about my fave ghostie♡

So Gwen's canonically pastel punk because she is shown and explicitly implied to be a part of punk culture but is also pastel!!She's rebellious,a bully beater,a vigilante,a punk rock drummer,listens to other punk bands toi and has a punk hairstyle and a punk piercing but her wardrobe is only subtly punk and consists of more standard/general alt drips and as pointed out by a mutual,the pink on her arms is actually gloves!Her personality is just so 'soft pastel punk',an archetype named by @theautisticcentre !They should've gone harder with it though,not made her forgive her abusive dad for the copganda narrative despite the undooming claims.In my head she kicked his ass and Jessica legally adopted her

I see Gwen as a lightskin half white afrolatina largely for projection but it also fixes problems in canon and just fits her so well!!'People only know half of who i am' gains a triple meaning(Spiderwoman,trans and biracial),it removes the problem of the racist subtext of her in the middle of the love triangle between two black guys and turns Ghostpunkflower into the perfect ship,punk was founded by black people,Spiderverse needs black girl mcs and not just black women as black fems deserve to be seen as little girls if they are and Gwen Stacy goes hard as name for a black character.Also it makes her even prettier,no?Gooey brown eyes Miles and Hobie are enchanted by,black hair that goes from straight to locs as a hair journey and black and pink hair is a look of all time,soft brown skin that looks so warm despite how cold life has been to her?And hey,if Gayatri Singh can be an indian Gwen Stacy,why can't Ghostspider be a black Gwen Stacy?Canon is bogus after all.I like to think she's into doing petty crime and indie games and kidcore and that her alt hairstyles are an afro and butterfly locs and her middle name is Marina and her favorites foods are strawberry-banana batidas and loaded burgers and she had a y2k phase <3

[txtmetonight]

Camille 2000 ✆

call summary ⋆ ★ You're going to have a midnight dance with your lover

pairing *. * Park Sunghoon x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Fluff, Angst (Forbidden Lovers)

warnings *. Blood, Violence

call duration⋆ ★ 1.8k

a/n*. * This is a repost!! Also, this is inspired by one of my favorite songs by Piero Piccioni

You weren’t really sure of yourself right now.  

Breathing hard, your hands find purchase on a random suitor, who took your hand without your consent, twirling you around, as a way to welcome you into a dance.

Repeating dance steps; glide, spin, turn, and lean continued on and on as you dance with this stranger, or more so truthfully, many more strangers that night.  

You were starting to feel light-headed and out of breath, remembering the promise you gave to your parents; you were to find a boy by one to wed. Your vision spun as each ‘lucky’ man tried his part to win your heart, win the place you as the future ruling queen once your parents passed away from old age.

Other young women also looked for their future husband-to-be, pretty girls of high status, strutting around with a multitude of colors showering down on them. It’s an ugly–despising sight.  

Excusing yourself messily from the confused boy, you take long strides to the garden that awaits outside through the long maze of marble hallways.

Pillars upon pillars came into sight as you messily wiped away salty droplets, ruining the mascara you put on earlier, not that you cared when all your mind spun around was about your midnight lover.

The clock struck twelve, alarming surrounding crows and causing them to belch their loudest caws as you ran down the impending steps of pure rock, hands clutching the spring green and pastel pink ball gown, so you didn’t tumble down.  

The pearly crown on your head was hanging on barely, and the strands of your hair came undone with every step you took, only slowing down as the bushy green walls came into view, making you sob even more, dizzily taking light steps towards the entrance, stumbling in your heels proceeding you take them off.

The air was perfumed with champagne and the lightest touch of sweet candy. At the same time, the fluttering butterflies flapped their beautiful wings, around a certain man who stood behind the white marble fountain, obviously pondering the deep thoughts of the unknown.  

But god he was so alluring, as the pale moonlight cast a dewy look on his softened features, that reflected off his silver suit, and if you let your eyes stray a little farther, a sharp-ended sword lain across the green grass, collecting dewdrops.  

“Sunghoon!” You sob, as you let yourself out, the joints in your knees unable to hold up your deep-rooted sorrows, falling right into a metal suit, head rolled against his arm as the worried boy sits you up, wiping away your salty tears. 

“Love...” He whispers, mouth close to your flushed ears, hugging you close. He knows exactly what you’re feeling–the pure heartbreak that aches your insides up. The pain of love and the deadly dagger it holds upon its clutches.  

“This isn’t fair! I don’t want anyone else!” You wail, looking up at his frown, delicate hands reaching up his face to smear his lips, thumb stroking the side of his mouth. You whine like a petulant child and it’s horribly sickening to see. Yet Sunghoon doesn’t mind as he wipes away the moonlight of streaks down your cheeks.  

“Me too darling.” He rubs his hands up your opened back, his warmth sending shockwaves down your skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses to your cheeks, relishing in the bittersweet moment.

“Let’s just run away” you mumble without a doubt, shoving your palm down his armor to feel his erratic heartbeat, leaning your head on the cold metal once you did.  

He stays silent for a moment, eyes closed as he slithers his fingers across your palms and up the stomach of your dress, drawing a small ‘I love you’ onto the cloth before he breathes awake, adams apple, gulping when he doesn’t break eye-contact with your curious eyes.

“Let’s have one last dance, shall we then?”  

Sunghoon brings your hand close to his lips, pressing a long kiss to your ring finger before lifting you up, rubbing his forehead against yours in affection. You nod with his words, and he pulls you up into a hug.  

Ball songs echoed onto the nightly daze, letting the creatures that roamed the area have a chance to flow with the heavenly music. The crickets chirped along as the owls perched and ruffled their feathers to the soothing beat, watching two young adolescents clumsily place each other in the other’s hands, lips and eyes unable to flicker away for a second, drunk in love.  

Placing his hand on your waist just in time for a new tune to drift in, your heart skips a beat once you notice what was playing, a hint of surprise and fluster on Sunghoon’s cheeks as he pulls you closer, nodding his head into the crook of your shoulder, slowly swaying in the presence of a full moon, lips melting in with each other.

Memories cascade down the lingering touches that you leave and the heavy hearts that you both heave in your chests. Yet the cavity that you used to dwindle was filled with the keys to each other.  

“You’re so beautiful, so pretty” He sighs, slightly tickling your waist, pulling back a little so he can meet your gaze. “I love you.”  

You smile as an answer, using two hands to pull him as close as possible, manageable to suffocate.  

“I love you too,” you softly reply, before pulling him back into another longing kiss, eyes closed, blindfolding your surroundings, too caught up in the moment, feeling as though if you let go, it would warp into a dream.  

Too bad that it was too late to realize the sword of your lover, was now punctured through your gut. Eyes widening open in shock, you catch Sunghoon weeping hard, his fingers massaging the aching wound in your lower abdomen, body shaking in guilt and sadness.  

“I’m so sorry love. God I’m so sorry, please forgive me. I promised–I promised your mother!” He breaks down, slowly catching you onto the ground, lungs unable to catch the air that you needed as you try to comprehend what he meant.  

“Huh?” You cough, tugging on the straps of his armor, and you knew that you were supposed to feel anger and betrayal at the situation, but you couldn’t help but relax him, splotching his tears around his streaked face.  

Intertwining your hand with his, you shakily let out an exhale, staring at him through your lashes, trying to preserve the last moments of your life. You grunt as he watches you incredulously before pulling out the dagger from your soaked body, pointing the metal blade towards his gut, ripping off his armor.

Using his slender fingers, he stabs himself quickly, penetrating deep enough to choke on rising blood.  

“I love you so much, I’m sorry darling” he quietly sobs, reaching for your arms which you let him take, flipping you over his blood-covered chest, hugging you tightly.  

Taking your last breaths, you leave a chaste kiss on his neck, where his heartbeat slows down into a rhythmic song, two heartbeats steadily dying out.  

[feyhunter78]

Pink Pastels Pt 23

Description: You and Gabi wait and try to work through what just happened, while Miguel faces his ex-wife.

Pt 24

You sit on your couch, Gabi fast asleep, her head in your lap, as you stare at the ring on your finger. It’s beautiful, Miguel’s grandmother’s he said. Cushion cut diamond, set in a sturdy silver band, it’s got to be two, maybe three carats? It’s a rock, and you’re flattered that Miguel wanted you to have such a beautiful piece of his family’s history.

It catches the low light as you turn your hand side to side, your TV playing some random sitcom at a low volume.

You look down at Gabi. You helped her wash her face, the tear tracks gone, and she clings tightly to her stuffed bear, her breathing soft and even. Poor thing tired herself out crying.

You let out a slow breath, trying to banish the lingering terror from your veins. You almost died, well maybe not, but if Miguel hadn’t been there…no, it won’t do you any good to dwell on what could have happened. You’re safe, Gabi’s safe, Victoria’s safe, and you’re engaged.

Holy shit, you’re engaged. To a man you’ve been dating for not very long at all. Sure, you’ve known Miguel for much longer than you’ve been dating, but still…

“Mamá, tengo miedo.” Gabi mumbles, tossing and turning, her brows furrowing. Trsl: Mom, I'm scared.

“Gabi?” You call softly, carding your fingers through her hair.

“¿Mamá?” Gabi begins to cry, burying her face in her stuffed bear.

“Gabi, honey, it’s okay.” You whisper, brushing away her tears, waiting for her eyes to open. You don’t want to startle her awake, it’ll only make it worse.

It breaks your heart to watch Gabi cry in her sleep, and you wish you could just take all her fears from her, but you can’t. “It’s okay sweetheart, I’m here, you’re safe.”

After a few more moments, Gabi jolts awake, her eyes scanning the room before they fall on you. Her big brown eyes fill with tears, and she flings her arms around your neck, burying her face in your sweatshirt covered chest.

“Oh, honey, did you have a nightmare?” You ask, rubbing her back soothingly.

She nods. “Papá never came to get us, then the bad man took you.” She cries, her finger bunching in the back of your sweatshirt.

“Sweetheart…it’s okay, we’re safe, the bad man is gone.” You reassure her, hugging her tightly.

“Okay.” Gabi sniffles, snuggling into you.

“Everything’s okay, and soon your dad is going to be back, and then we can all talk and get all this figured out.” You tell her, smiling when she begins to fidget with the ring on your finger.

“¿Mamá?” Gabi asks after a while of the two of you sitting in silence watching the TV.

“Yeah?” You bit back a smile, your heart feeling like it could burst at the sound of Gabi calling you, mom.

“Can I be the flowergirl at you and papá’s wedding?”

This girl has a one-track mind.

“Sure sweetheart.”

“Okay yay.” Gabi says tiredly, snuggling back into you, her eyelids drooping.

“Good to sleep, baby bug, I’ll be here when you wake up.” You promise, pressing a kiss to Gabi’s forehead.

You’ve taken to referring to Gabi as ‘baby bug’ in your head ever since you found out Miguel was Spiderman, you never wanted to overstep. But now…

“Goodnight mamá.” Gabi whispers, already half asleep.

You’re her mom, you’ve been her mom since the day she stepped foot in your classroom, you don’t want to pretend that’s not the case anymore. You’re not going to.

Miguel drags a hand down his face, preparing to face Ava. He hasn’t seen her since Gabi was a baby. Well, he has never seen this Ava, she was already long gone when he replaced this universe’s Miguel. He runs through the recordings and journals the other Miguel left behind, trying to remember every detail about this heartless woman.

She left Miguel when Gabi was a baby, ran off to California with some surfer dude named Kyle, told Miguel she never wanted to see Gabi again, that she never wanted a child, never even loved him.

All daggers to the other Miguel’s heart, but he isn’t here. Miguel isn’t worried about any emotional attachments, any guilt-tripping, he loves you. Only you. No woman could ever come between that.

He opens the door and Ava steps in.

Her hair is shorter than that of the Ava he knew, but besides that, she looks the same.

“Miguel.” She says, raking her eyes up and down his form.

“Ava.” He replies, his face set in a neutral expression, his tone betraying nothing but contempt.

“Where’s my baby?” Ava asks, looking past him and into his darkened apartment.

“My daughter is with my fiancée. You won’t be seeing either of them tonight, or ever.”

Ava rolls her eyes. “You can’t keep Gabriella from me, I’m her mother.”

“You relinquished your paternal rights, I can and will keep her from you.” Miguel crossed his arms over his chest, staring her down.

“Miggy, come on, you know I was just kidding.” Ava goes to put her hand on his bicep, but he takes a step back.

“Don’t call me that.”

Ava takes a step forward, then another, until she’s got his back to the wall, a sliver of light coming in through the half-closed door. “Come on, let me make this up to you.”

“I have a fiancée.” He reminds her, his jaw set.

“So? I won’t tell if you won’t.” She says teasingly, trailing her hand down his chest, his abdomen, then settles over his cock.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Miguel, come on, I know you love it when I do this.” She smiles teasingly, squeezing his cock.

He grabs her hand and wrenches it off him. “I said, don’t touch me.”

She huffs and her eyes go cold. “You’re such a dick, Miguel, this is why I had to leave.”

He scoffs. “Because I won’t let you sexually manipulate me?”

“You always twist my words around!”

Miguel laughs humorlessly. “Sure, Ava, that’s exactly what I’m doing.” He glances around. “Where Kyle? He didn’t want to come on this pointless venture of yours?”

Ava rolls her shoulders back. “Kyle and I are on a break.”

“Let me guess, he found another married woman to fuck.”

Ava’s lips turn into a thin line. “We’re working out some issues.”

Miguel shakes his head and pulls the door fully open, motioning for her to exit. “And I don’t want your issues to affect Gabi, so go Ava. I respected your wishes, I didn’t bother you, didn’t beg you to come back, and I stopped asking you to see Gabi, like you wanted. So leave, now.”

Ava throws him an angry look over her shoulder and storms out. “You can’t stay away from me, Miguel; you’ve never been able to. You’ll see.”

You ease Gabi onto the couch when you hear a knocking at your balcony door. Miguel is standing there, his perfect lips pulled into a frown.

You pad over to the glass doors and slide them open. “Everything alright?”

Miguel sighs and massages his temples. “Ava wanted to see Gabi, I told her no. She relinquished her parental rights years ago, she has no leg to stand on.”

You smile sadly at him. “I’m sorry, that must have been hard.”

He shakes his head. “It’s good she’s not in our lives, besides, she tried to persuade me with her hand on my cock.” His eyes dart to Gabi who is still sleeping peacefully.

An ungodly amount of rage flares through you. “What?”

Miguel cups your face. “Don’t worry mi vida, nothing happened, I stopped it immediately.”

“Okay, good.” You huff, biting your lip when your eyes meet Miguel’s.

“My pretty fiancée, were you worried about me?” He teases, his eyes dropping to your lips.

A shiver rolls through you at the word fiancée.

“Were you worried someone could steal me away? No, cariño, no one could take me from you.” He kisses you gently, teasingly, a smile on his lips as he says the words.

“They better not.” You grumble, wrapping your arms around Miguel’s neck and pulling him back down to kiss you again. And if a few murderous thoughts run through your head, Miguel doesn’t need to know that they’re just thoughts, right…?

Tag list: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @needsleep3000, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7, @justrandomlolidk, @chimpkinnuggies, @alicefallsintotherabbithole, @loser-alert, @wwwellacom, @ryantryan6969, @lollipopin, @youcantseem3, @a-cult-leader, @verexi, @purpleskiesandroses, @they2luv1naia, @sophiaj650, @idolautism, @rheannajrs, @merakiq, @rexs-wife, @sukaretto-n, @twilight-loveer, @f1shb0nez, @callsign-blue, @marcelineormars, @sxnasbitch, @111gltzpzy, @lucilavenxoxo, @ray-rook, @elizamelody

[dewdropdinosaur]

Kiss A Hundred Boys In Bars

Angel Dust x M Reader Summary: Y/N is feeling insecure about their body but soon finds their confidence through Angel. Warnings: NSFW. MINORS DNI. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Oral sex(male receiving), P in A sex, C*m, dom/sub dynamics, etc. For the lovely @little-bloodied-angel

One might have thought with all the screams coming from the Hazbin Hotel that another war was brewing inside its brick walls. However, more simply, Y/N had turned their room into a makeshift runway and those screams were of lyrics. With clothes strewn about, mirrors positioned at various angles, and a playlist of upbeat tunes filling the air. The door creaked open, and in walked Angel Dust, his usual confident swagger evident even before he fully entered the room. His eyes immediately went wide as he took in the scene before him.

“Whoa, look at you! This is quite the setup,” Angel said with a mix of surprise and admiration, his gaze flitting between the assortment of outfits and Y/N. His bright, pink eyes sparkled with curiosity.

Y/N looked up from the pile of clothes with a sheepish grin. “Hey, Angel. I’m just trying out some new looks. Thought it’d be fun to see how they fit.”

Angel’s gaze shifted back to Y/N, who was currently wearing a sleek, black outfit that hugged his form in all the right places, black suit pants and an lower cut black glittter crop top with the pastel themed makeup was definetly the move. The ensemble was complemented by a pair of striking shoes and the fact that Y/N was practically dripping in glittery silver; from rings to a chain around their neck. 

 “Well, you’re definitely pulling it off,” Angel said, walking closer.

Y/N blushed slightly, brushing a hand through his hair. “Thanks. I’ve been experimenting with different styles lately. It’s all about finding something that makes me feel confident.”

Angel’s eyes lingered a moment longer, and he grinned. “Well, if you’re going for confidence, you’ve definitely hit the mark. I mean, you’re rocking that outfit like it was made just for you.”

Flustered but pleased, Y/N spun around to show off the outfit. “Do you really think so? I’m not exactly sure how it’s going to look on a night out.”

Angel’s expression softened, his gaze sincere. “Trust me, if you’re looking to make an impression, you’ve already succeeded.”

“Okay, but see the pants? They just don’t…fit right.”

Angel titled his head, confused by his friend’s words. Examing the pants closer, he could still find no problem. “Mind explaining for me toots?”

Y/N sighed and plopped down on his bed, before speaking softly. “It fits too tightly down there—“

“Well then just get a bigger size then babes!”

“No Angel, you don’t get it. It…makes it obvious.”

“What obvious?”

“That I don’t have…what you have, you know. Down there.”

“Oh.”

Y/N laid back, staring at the ceiling. It was never a comfortable reminder, that someone would always point out that unforunte reality that made them seem like less of a man. 

“Well fuck that toots!”

Rapidly shooting up, Y/N tilted his head in confusion. “”What?”

“Toots, as a man myself and as a person that likes men, fuck that.”

“Huh?”

“Gees, you really gonna make me say it huh? I like you’re hot and if I think that, then you are definetly a man cause I don’t like no gal.”

Y/N’s cheeks turned a deeper shade of red, and they laughed softly. “Well you have a certain way with words.”

Angel chuckled, his tone playful yet earnest. “Oh and right now, the only thing I’m noticing how incredible you look.”

With a flirtatious wink, Angel moved to stand beside Y/N, giving the outfit one last approving look. “So, are we going to see any of these looks in action tonight? Or is this just a private show?”

Y/N’s smile grew. “Maybe a little bit both, if you catch my drift.”

Angel’s eyes sparkled with mischief and approval. “Oh babes, do I ever catch that drift.” he growled, his eyes blazing with intensity as he slammed his lips to capture his. Moaning into the kiss, Y/N slowly brought his hands up to find themselves tangled in Angel’s hair. 

Trailing a hand down to Angel’s waist, Y/N gave it a tight squeeze that made the spider demon squeak. Chuckling at the reaction, both their lips remained interlocked for what seemed an eternity until Y/N slowlyt guided Angel’s body to lay back on the bed. Lips swollen and eyes blown with lust, with back flush against the mattress, Angel wasted no time in relocking his lips back in a wanting plea but was denied by Y/N; who pulled back and dodged with a devilish smirk playing on their features. 

Nimble fingers traced up Angel’s waist, tugging softly on the waistband of his shorts before suddenly ripping them off of his body. Exposed to the cool air, Angel let out a gasp of surprise that was quickly replaced with a lewd moan as Y/N traced his fingers across his underwear clad bulge. 

“Starlight, tsk tsk. We haven’t even begun and you are stretching these clothes.” Continuing to drag his finger across his bulge, Y/N mumbled the words into the base of his neck while he left light nips across it. 

“Stop–fuck–stop teasing Y/N…”

“Oh but dear, that’s half the fun.” Despite his words, he obliged his request by removing the offending garment from his body.​​ Working his way down, his face ended between his thighs. Small kitten licks graced Angel’s throbbing member, muffled whines and moans leaving the spider demon’s mouth in short bursts of pleasure. 

“Star, do not hide those noises from me."

Flipping Angel over on his stomach, he added a finger to his welcoming hole, stretching him wide. Angel’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body involuntarily shifted away from the overstimulating assault. Taking his other hand, Y/N placed it on his hip and held him in place. 

“Unless you would like to be restrained, I haer to insist you remain in place.” Perking up at the thought, Angel gulped. Being restrained by Y/N, forcing his legs open so he could do as he pleased; letting him use them to fill every hole piqued his interest. Perhaps for another time. Suddenly, with the sound of a snap, Angel could feel an unfamiliar bulge digging into his ass. 

“Fuck babes, that ain’t gonna—“

“It’s gonna fit Star…you’ll take me so well.”

Removing his finger and slowly sliding his cock in, Y/N stretched Angel’s needy hole wide. Both men moaning both at the sight and feeling, a delicious stretch for both. Y/N’s mouth hovered over Angel’s ear, allowing his hot breath to fan his face. 

“You tell me when you want me to move.” 

Angel nodded rapidly, fisting the sheets underneath him in a fit of pleasure and pain. “Please…just move please.”

Slowly thrusting, taking his time to draw out every noise, Y/N relished in the sight below him. The thoughts alone of Y/N’s cock nearly had Angel cumming, mumbling incoherently for just a bit more to push him over the edge. Smirking, Y/N picked up the pace, driving deeper, the walls of Angel’s ass squeezing onto him for dear life. The added weight and pace was becoming nearly too much. 

“Go on Star. Tell me….tell me how I can only make you feel this good.”

“Fuck, only you—holy shit—just you.” 

That’s what did it, Angel felt the coil in his  stomach snap as he cried his lover’s name. Surely, the whole hotel had heard him by now. Just as Y/N wanted. Pulling out slowly, Y/N laid next to a panting Angel. Both parties covered in a layer of thin sweat, panting heavily and overcome with arousal. Walking his hands forward till both of his arms caged Angel in on the bed and he could feel the arousal coming off him in waves, Y/N whispered darkly

“Now I think it’s time for you to return the favor, don’t you think?”