#and my equally stupid ass brother

[scorpion-flower]

Oh, so my stupid and abusive parents and brother are fighting like crazy for the last couple of months, and my mother got up and left? Lol, see if I care.

[maukiki1]

hiiii can u draw Jack… he’s very cunty I love hum

Jack realness

[personasintro]

Romance Is Not Dead | jjk

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; it’s valentine's day and you're single

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: brother's best friend!jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst (?)

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mentions of sex (it's mentioned quite a lot), reader's brother is kinda dick, alcohol usage, men (that deserves a warning alright), drunk people (it's a party), angst (?) honestly I'm not sure if there's any angst but it's a story with a few realistic topics that are kinda sad if you think about it, it's not your average fluff story lol

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.7k+

a/n: happy valentine's day! mind you this was supposed to be a short drabble like around 2k lol, I had no proper idea of where this will go and somehow I ended up with quite a long story haha. but I'm happy I got more into writing, I wasn't expecting writing this much. if there are any mistakes, please ignore them hehe. I rushed to post it so I could make it on february 14th. I don't know what even is this story but i hope you enjoy it hahah don't forget to like and reblog ♡

“Argh! Who even invented Valentine's Day?”

The groan that leaves your mouth – or more like a loud complaint – rolls around the room, not stopping you from tossing your bag on the kitchen's table to show your annoyance more than actual anger.

“Hello to you too, sis.” Your brother throws a peace sign your way, not particularly fazed by the lack of greeting on your side.

From your peripheral vision you could easily tell they're right there. Your brother and his best friend have been best friends since high school, they go way back and somehow, they've managed to stay super close till now. It's quite admirable, you have to admit. You don't think you've ever seen or heard them fight. Overall, their friendship seems to be more relaxed in this sense than most girls' friendships.

Yes, that mostly happens between guys. They're not as dramatic or bitchy as some girls can be. God. None of your current friends are your friends from high school. You've parted ways eventually.

However, the amount of drama free that's clearly not present in their precious brotherhood is equalized with loud burps, unfiltered talks about girls and sex through male eyes. You would've mentioned farting but luckily, you haven't heard your brother's best friend to be that nasty in front of you. Which can't be said about your brother but well, that's a part of having a sibling – regardless of their gender.

It's quite cliché.

Your brother's older, therefore he's protective yet loves to embarrass you at any chance. He thinks he's all that and sometimes, it feels like he thinks he's your third parent. That's what's more annoying – perhaps even more than overrated Valentine's Day. 

“Did someone decline you on Valentine's Day?”

There he goes again.

Teasing you. It's a never-ending circle. Luckily, you've grown resistant to his pathetic attempts to embarrass you – especially when his friends are present. Yeah, your brother can be a dick and you're not afraid to tell him.

Though, you don't stick to the names and curses and instead turn it into something more powerful. 

Scoffing, you swipe your hair back and give him a look. “Please, look at me.”

“I am, that's why I asked.” 

You waste no time in grabbing one of the stupid empty cans he always has laying around and throw it at him. Did you mention he can be a pig sometimes?

Your aim has gotten way better throughout the years and when he curses at you once it hits the side of his head, you smile happily. His friend chuckles at the two of you, lifting the can that has fallen onto the floor and sets it on the table.

“Yeah, and that's why you chase every man that comes my way.” you comment, knowing well damn you're right. 

He frowns, “Those men can hardly be called men, sis.”

“Well, bro, I wouldn't know since you like to be the pain in my ass.” you smile at him tightly, seeing him looking before he goes back to playing one of his stupid video games. “Not that I have a man to look up to in the first place.”

They've been doing that a lot. Lame. 

His best friend's snort turns into a laughter that he barely gets to hold in. That makes you smile because you see it as a success in getting back at your brother. And perhaps your little crush you've had on him has something to do with it. But we don't talk about it.

Your brother glares at him but he's not affected, not even a bit. It's hard to put it into words or make any definition, but he's always been slightly more… intimidating? He has an aura around him that makes you appreciate even a little reaction from him. 

It's humorous. You've known him for years, merrily just from always seeing him next to your brother (because there were never other opportunities), yet it feels like you barely know anything about him. Even though he used to occupy your living room almost every day. And today doesn't feel much different. The only difference is that none of you live at your parents' house. 

“Who hurt you today?”

“Don't be a dick. I can be a bitch too.” you remind him sweetly, leaning forward against the kitchen counter and grab a grape that lays in a single bowl. Probably the only healthy thing he has in this kitchen. 

He flips you off and frowns once he doesn't win the game. Karma. “Anyway, are you gonna tell us why you came here so annoyed or you're gonna eat?”

“I can do both,” you shrug. “I just don't get the hype about Valentine's Day.”

“Oh, you asked who invented it? Probably a pair of groupies in love.”

You roll your eyes, “I don't think that's it.”

“It's about romance. It's romantic, sis.”

You snort, “And how would you know anything about romance?”

He chuckles cockily as if the next words he says is something to be proud about; “I don't. But the girl I fucked said something about it.”

“Ew!” you gag, stopping yourself from reaching for another grape. “You're gross sometimes.”

“You don't talk about sex with your friends? C'mon, it's normal.”

“Yeah, with my friends. Not in front of you.” you justify. 

“Jesus, we didn't have to hear that.” Your brother scolds you, clearly uncomfortable at the thought of you talking about sex. 

You sometimes make sex jokes in front of him just to mess with him. It's pretty funny and it never gets old. You don't do it often though, but perhaps you should. 

“I hear only you complaining.” you sign out, pointing out the obvious and for the first time since you've arrived, you give proper attention to his best friend. 

He's been awfully quiet. What's there for him to say anyway? You and your brother bicker most of the time, no matter how old you are. He's pretty much used to it by now. He just stuck to playing the game and other than cackling at your previous comment, he's been quiet. You hate that you're slightly annoyed by the lack of attention he gives you. Not that you're an attention seeker or desperate for his attention.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out he sees you as his best friend's little sister. Even though you're not as little as when he first met you. 

“JK is the last person who wants to hear your complaints.”

“Why don't you let JK speak for himself?” you question, a little edge to your tone as your brother huffs out, muttering something under his breath – obviously aimed at you.

“Chill out, you two.” he mutters, voice slightly deeper than you remember it even though the last time you've seen him was last month. It has a little rasp to it and you wish your eyes wouldn't glue to him automatically. 

He lays comfortably on the couch, man spreading with a game controller sitting in his lap while his big thumbs rest comfortably against the buttons. You might've mentioned you are not friends with people from a high school anymore, but you have friends. One who would kill for a moment to spend with your brother's best friend. Just to be in his close proximity.

Though, it's no secret he's not any better than most guys his age – including your own brother. In a weird way, you love your brother (even though you wouldn't probably ever say it out loud because he's a weirdo and he would just make fun of you), but you can easily tell he's not someone you would ever want to end up with. Personality and morally wise, of course. 

He surrounds himself with people with the same values, or the lack of. 

And perhaps, it's one of the reasons why you suddenly got annoyed because of today's day. February 14th. You're the type that simply brushes off any guy who comes your way that you don't have any interest in. There's no need for your brother. He's a dick and he chases the ones that might not be husband material, but they're hot and charming. You're not necessarily looking for a marriage. God. You're too young. You don't want to be the one that gets locked in a marriage with someone they just met. 

Definitely you don't want to get knocked up either. Fuck, they're so many scenarios that run inside your head. Ones you don't want to live in. 

Regardless of your current stance when it comes to your life and relationships, you're still romantic. All of your friends have dates today. Any other day or year, you wouldn't even think of it – but you've seen everything in the shape of a heart today. Not mentioning there's everyone kissing and hugging at every corner of the street. 

And you didn't get a discount on your cake because you were alone with no partner around. Who does that? That's discrimination!

Valentine's Day is overrated. Maybe you think that way because you're single. Have been for too long. And while you don't necessarily miss it, you kind of crave for someone's affection and touch. It's not even about sex. 

“Listen, we're having a party tonight. I wouldn't normally invite you–”

“Wow, thanks.”

He shoots you a glare again before he continues, “But seeing you so miserable, maybe you could come too.”

“Party? Is this another one of your gangbang parties?”

“I have never been a part of that, stop calling my parties that.”

“There are literally hundreds of people who are there to hook up.” you inform him.

He snickers, “That's like every party.”

You lift up your eyebrows, not quite believing him. It's like every party he hosts or is invited to. People his age make parties slightly less wild. Not that he's too old but still. He's acting and living too wild for his age. 

“I'm not hosting it.”

“Who is?”

“JK here.” His brother says, head motioning toward the man next to him. “I'm sure you don't mind that I'm inviting her.”

The said man looks at his brother, shrugging. “I don't.”

“Well?” Your brother looks back at you. “Are you coming?”

“Are you gonna chase everyone that comes my way? Y'know, my friends are all having dates and if I don't wanna spend tonight alone, I would rather have fun.”

“You're allowed to come. And yeah, probably I will.”

“You're a douche. I'm an adult, stop treating me like a child.”

Your brother sighs, already knowing what argument is about to come. It's about the same stuff every time. 

“I'm doing it for your own good. The people that are gonna be there, guys that are gonna be there are like us, sis.”

There's a certain softness behind his voice, though it still stays vigorous as if he's trying to get something through your thick head. You know all of that, though. You know he doesn't hang out with the best people. But they're just dicks. And they're thinking with dicks. But you can take care of yourself. Besides, he's going to be there as well. 

JK, or Jungkook like you refer to him in your head, briefly looks at you. But you spot it and stare at him as his eyes drift to your brother. “You can't protect her forever.”

“That's something an asshole would say.”

“I never said I'm not one. But let her have her fun.”

“You know what? Don't come. I don't want you there.” Your brother stands up and shoots you a glare before he walks away. 

God! He's such a dick!

JK chuckles and you realize you've been frowning this whole time. You hear the door slam close and you scoff. “He's such a child.”

You eye him with no embarrassment whatsoever, tracing all the tattoos he has gotten throughout the years. The white shirt fits his torso perfectly, even though it's oversized his muscles peak through. 

Your friend told you he's at the gym almost every day. It sure looks like that. 

He suddenly stands up and you straighten automatically, watching him make his way toward you but not before tossing the game controller on the couch. He stays on the other side of the table, reaching for one of the grapes while still staring at you. 

God. He's doing something purposely.

For the first time today, your confidence slightly falters but you do your best not to show it. You stare as he pops one of the grapes into his mouth and chews on it. 

“You're still invited. That's if you still wanna come.”

You blink, “But my brother–”

“Is like a child sometimes. You're gonna be fine there.”

Gulping, you mutter; “How are you so sure?”

He doesn't answer but there's a small smirk playing on his lips. “You would still come, wouldn't you? Just to piss him off.”

That causes you to let out a soft chuckle because yes, he's right about that. Your brother needs to understand you're not a child. “I would.”

“Alright, then come.”

You poke the inside of your cheek with your tongue and lift your brow, “I will.”

You will go to the party. Even if your brother would burn down the city.

One of the few things you've learned about your brother's best friend – Jungkook – is that he comes from a wealthy family. You know he got his own place in the city center, that alone tells you he's got money. Whether they come from his parents or by his own hard work is unknown to you. Either way, it's quite clear he's always been slightly privileged than most kids your age.

You've never been to his parents' house. There was never a reason for you to go there, plus, you're not your brother and he didn't exactly bring his little sister with him whenever he went somewhere. The only time he would have to spend time with you alone was when he had to babysit you. But you would always stay home and he would let you know how annoyed he is because of that.

A typical teenager who wanted to chase girls and experience his first hook-ups rather than having to babysit his little sister who was born with sharp tongue and big mouth. You're probably his karma for all the hearts he already managed to break. 

Anyway – you know JK's parents' house is settled up the hill, away from the city and in a rich area where all the big houses were built. You've never seen it, hence your first reaction when you spotted a huge gate and a house that looks more like a mixture between mansion rather than a small family house.

Before he parted ways a few hours ago when you last saw him, he gave you the address. Seems like you've arrived just in time. There are many people, outside and inside – everywhere. It looks like the college parties you get to see in movies but more upgraded.

The thing about you is that you would never go to a party alone. Even if two people you know are here. Well, your brother still doesn't know you're here and he's about to get pissed once he sees you. Suddenly, the idea to piss him off doesn't seem so alluring.

But this house – or mansion or whatever this building is called – is the only place that is not filled with heart balloons. They might be couples and strangers that are glued to each other, the romance is simply not present. It's nasty and explicit to a certain extent. 

A part of you is disgusted at how easy some people seem to be, letting themselves to be groped by strangers, but there's something alluring. Perhaps even more than doing this just to prove a point to your brother. 

You don't get a chance to look around the place, since it's crowded and you're trying not to get shoved into, you're looking for a bigger space and maybe something to drink. You make it into the main room it seems. A huge couch in the shape of U looks massive but it fits into the big room perfectly. There are people everywhere and there's not a single space on the couch. However, once you make it closer and spot a tiny space, it's all forgotten and your vision naturally travels to the couple sitting there. 

You would spot those tattoos everywhere.

Jungkook's there. And a woman sitting on his lap as you see them making out explicitly, tongues brushing against each other. Alright, a part of you envies the woman but looking around and seeing more of them staring in slight irritation and jealousy, you're not alone. You scrunch your nose at them not caring and just making out with each other in front of everyone. There's no way they don't know everyone's eyes are on them. The guys ignore them though. It's mostly women.

The one that sits on his lap and seems to be ready to jump his bones, is wearing a tiny top and mini skirt. You can see her panties and you feel embarrassed to witness the tiny piece of underwear. Well, she doesn't seem to care.

His hand is on her waist, gripping it tightly as he pulls away and mutters something into her lips. She giggles, all her attention focused on him. 

Despite knowing him for years, you've never seen him in this element. And maybe that's what your brother didn't want you to see. Not even Jungkook but everyone here. You've witnessed a few parties, but this one is completely on another level. It looks straight out of a movie and perhaps completely out of your comfort zone. 

But you don't leave. You stick in your spot and just stare at your brother's best friend flaunting his charm all around him, but mostly aimed at the woman on his lap. 

Since your brother that eventually came out of the bathroom told you to get out, you've decided to come after all and give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe not exactly the same but that's why you chose one of your tight dresses. They're not special. Just a dress that almost every woman owns. But this one has thin straps and you don't get to wear a bra in it, that's how tight it is. It's the only clothing you're wearing, minus the panties of course. 

You look good. You know you do and that's why you chose this outfit particularly. You thought the heels are perhaps too much, but luckily you opted for them instead of your sneakers. Everyone seems to be dressed like they're in a club. Not even one outfit on a woman here looks completely comfortable. And they show more skin when they wear clothing. Not that you're judging. You're not the one to talk.

And you know this choice of clothing is not only a magnet for eyes, but for unwanted touches you were counting on eventually. It's sad but it's the truth. That's why you never come alone to these things. You always have your friends with you. You would kick asses for each other and overall, you feel more protected and safe. 

The hand that slaps your ass – that definitely looks good in this dress – causes you to turn and twist your face in anger. You spot a wasted man that smiles stupidly as if he did something cute. You shove him in the chest causing him to stumble into a few people who start to curse at him and complain.

“Touch me one more time and I will fucking kick your ass.” you spit at him. 

Your ass might look good but that's not an open invitation for strangers or anyone to touch you unwillingly. 

He gains his balance and his drunk features twist into anger. You see it. He's angry because you're not all over his dick because he touched you. First of all, he's not even hot. And he's wasted out of his mind. There's nothing hot about it. 

He doesn't make it too close because you push him again, causing him to fall this time.

“You bitch!” he yells, having a trouble to stand up and you cover your mouth to shield the giggle that makes it out. 

One of the guys that he stumbled into turns around, ready to curse. But as your eyes lock, all the amusement fades away and your eyes widen in a sudden fear. Shit.

It takes a moment for your brother to register that it's you – perhaps the exposed skin causes him to widen his eyes too before they twist into anger.

“What the fuck.”

“I was invited.” you automatically argue, yelping once he makes his way toward you and grabs you by your forearm. He kicks the bastard that still tries to stand up and starts leading you elsewhere. No, he's not leading you but dragging you with him.

It's not the initial reaction you had in mind. You wanted to smirk, to show him that you're here and there's nothing you can do about it. But that's out of the picture because in the end, you're just a little girl that maybe loves to piss off her brother, but once you truly piss him off you back away.

That realization causes your anger to come back and you dig your heels into the wooden floor, trying to get out of his hold. “Stop squeezing me like that!”

“Would you like to be squeezed by strangers?!” He yells over the music, both of you stopping next to a staircase.

It already happened, you wanted to say but decide to stay quiet.

He couldn't see what the stranger did to you. He only saw the man falling and stumbling into him. So the fact that he's this pissed off to see you here without even seeing what happened just minutes ago, makes you think he needs a psychiatrist. What would he do if he saw what happened?

“Maybe I want that!” you yell at him. “And there's nothing you can do about it!”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to calm down. “What are you doing here.”

“I told you. I was invited.”

“I uninvited you.”

You scoff, “It's not your party, you moron.”

“JK invited you?”

“Yeah.” you shrug just to piss him off some more.

He stares at you for a moment, glaring but you glare back before he shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “Fine. But you're not leaving my side.”

You scoff but he grabs your shoulders tightly. 

“I mean it.”

“Stop touching me.” You slap his hands away, his touch fading away as you're about to open your mouth to curse at him some more.

Before you can do it, someone nudges him from the left side. Your brother is about to pounce but once he sees his best friend in the flesh, he stays down but not before he's reminded of what you told him. 

“What are you doing.” He questions your brother but he just scoffs in return.

“You invited her?”

Jungkook rolls his lip piercing as he shrugs, “I did.”

“Are you out of your mind?”

“Me? You invited her first if I recall.” 

Your brother stares at his friend in disbelief before he glances at you. You shrug, lifting your brown. 

“You two are fucking unbelievable.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, probably thinking your brother is just dramatic. Which he is. While they're too busy arguing, you don't pay attention to anything that's being said. You shamelessly eye Jungkook, spotting how blurry his lips are from the make out session you witnessed a while ago. He's got a similar outfit like you've seen him during the day. The only difference is that he's wearing all black. 

“Listen you two, I will stay out of your sight, okay?”

“No fucking way!” Your brother argues while Jungkook sighs in exhaustion. 

“I'm just gonna have a few drinks and meet new people.”

“These people are not for you to meet or be friends with.”

“Who said anything about being friends?” you mutter, causing your brother to curse at you once more.

“No–” He stops you before you can interrupt him, “You invited her, so you will look after her.”

“Me?” JK frowns, disliking the idea. While you would be slightly offended by the lack of interest when it comes to you, you're also irritated that your brother here is acting the same. Only this time he's giving the responsibility to Jungkook. 

“Yes, you! You invited her, so you'll watch over her tonight. If anything happens to her, I will personally kill you,” 

God. He's so full of himself. If Jungkook wanted, he could knock him out with one punch. But you don't say it to hurt his male ego and boost Jungkook's one. It seems they're full of ego. 

“And I'm not joking.”

He brushes past you two and leaves angrily. To probably shove his tongue down to any first girl he sees. 

And from the looks of it Jungkook looks like he would rather much do the same. But then he looks at you, reminded of his current responsibility. You. 

“Listen–you don't have to look after me–I can handle my–”

“Are you okay?”

“What?”

He stares you down, not in the creepy way to stare at your body but almost looking for anything that could give him answers to his question.

“I've seen what happened.”

“You've seen it?” you breathe out, “I'm fine.”

“You sure?”

“I handled it.” you grit through your teeth.

“You did,” he agrees much to your surprise. “Or maybe you were just lucky.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” You trash with your hands, but he catches your wrist. Gently. But he has his hold on you and your breath catches in your throat. He pulls you closer.

“What if it was someone who wouldn't be so wasted? Hm?”

You gulp, glancing at his lips for a split second before you find his dark eyes on yours. “It happened with people around us. Someone would step in.”

He scoffs, “Don't count on it too much.”

“They would–”

“Some of them. Not all of them,” he informs you. 

You're reminded that he knows these parties. He knows how it's going. And while no one would mess with him personally, it doesn't mean everyone is as safe as him. Let alone any women. That much you've realized and you haven't even been here for a half an hour. 

“What if he waited until you're drunk to take you somewhere else?”

You breathe out shakily, “Stop.”

“What if he dragged you upstairs? And that's just the start of what he might've done.”

“Fucking stop.” you warn him with your eyes but he doesn't budge. 

He tames you like you're a fucking dog.

“Your brother's right. You're staying with me.”

“And staring at you making out all night?”

You shut your mouth as soon as your response gets out. Jungkook tilts his head tiniest bit to the side and the corner of his mouth lifts up. “You were watching.”

“It was hard not to. Everyone was watching.”

“That's not an excuse.”

You inch closer, licking your lips. “It wasn't supposed to be.”

He stares at your lips before his touch disappears and so its warmth does. “You're not leaving my side.”

You scoff but he glares at you which surprisingly shuts you up. 

“I can give you alcohol, you can have fun. But you're not leaving my side.”

“You're worse than my brother.” That's a stretch and you both know it, but you've never seen Jungkook acting like this. He never really cared. He never had to in the first place. That's what your brother was for. 

He inches closer, hovering over you like only his presence can. “I can be worse.”

And somehow, that sounds like a promise. Once he motions for you to follow him, you do like a lost poppy with gritted teeth and anger bubbling inside you. But you don't disobey. Perhaps it's the shock or the weird feeling in the pit of your stomach that makes you buzz with excitement. 

Fuck. 

It's not hard not to have a crush on someone like Jungkook. He's hot, he's confident but not in the way where he's full of himself. He has every reason to be confident.

And just like he promised, he has managed to give you drinks that surprisingly taste good. They're not too strong and something tells you he purposely picked those out for you. You don't complain. They don't cause you to make grimaces at every gulp and you can feel yourself relax. In the corner your brother watches you with glare, reminding you of something that should feel like punishment. 

Perhaps it does.

Jungkook has you seated next to him, back on the couch. The woman he made out with sits on the opposite side, sending daggers next to you. You roll your eyes very publicly, scoffing and making sure she sees you. 

“JK, can we go somewhere else?” You hear her annoying sweet voice, while Jungkook himself looks slightly irritated that he has you on his watch. “Upstairs?” she suggests.

“Sorry, love, can't.”

She huffs out, “Why? Because you're babysitting?”

You move sideways to face her, leaning through Jungkook as you glare at her. “Maybe he just doesn't want your tongue shoved in his mouth.”

Jungkook sighs, lifting his hand to your collarbones to move you back but you don't budge. 

“Oh yeah? He wants more than that.” she informs you. 

“God, you're so desperate.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Behave.” Jungkook warns you, pushing slightly harder and finally, you plop back onto your spot and fume with arms crossed. 

“Tell your bitch to behave.”

“Y/N.” Jungkook warns through his teeth. You stop, realizing that this is the first time he said your name. Still fuming, you give him a glare before standing up.

“What did you just call me?”

“Come on.” Jungkook stands up too before you can make things worse and he's going to be caught up in a girls fight. This is not the night he planned.

He doesn't drag you like your brother did. He still rests his hand against your back and leads you in a direction. You don't protest. You want to but anything's better than being in the blonde's presence one more second. 

When you realize you're standing next to your brother who's leaning against the wall, watching the two of you with a knowing and quite pleased smirk. 

“Dude. That's enough.”

“Are you having any issue with my sis, JK?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, “You made your point.”

“No, I don't think I have.”

“You two are annoying.” he sighs, closing his eyes.

“Excuse me? What have I done?” you exclaim, hand on your chest as he gives you a knowing look that shuts you up.

It's more than clear. Jungkook has brought you to your brother, so he could deal with you rather than he has to. It bruises your ego, but only slightly because you don't let any guy do any permanent damage. But you have to be honest. It's slightly embarrassing how he wants to shake you off. Clearly his plans for tonight have been different and watching the blondie still waiting for him patiently makes your night even worse, knowing what exactly he had planned. 

“You made me a huge cockblocker, bro.” you interrupt their bickering. It feels refreshing not to be the one bickering with your brother. 

Which reminds you that for the first time, you actually see them in some sort of argument even though it's not exactly a fight. Your brother as always is a pain in the ass and Jungkook's now experiencing it. You don't understand why Jungkook just doesn't let you go? Why did he insist on having you by his side at all times? 

Most likely, he doesn't want to piss off your brother.

Jungkook throws you yet another glare, but you brush him off pretty easily. “It's not about that.”

You give him a look which makes him groan.

“It's not just about that.”

And then they continue again. Your brother complains about your presence here, blames Jungkook rather than your own decision to come. He knows you. He knows you've done it to mess with him and it worked. But he expected better from Jungkook. 

You don't want to hear any second of it any longer. You don't wait for Jungkook's response, not even when you see his frown deepen and you know he's getting angrier by every word your brother spits in his face.

Using the tiny chance where they don't pay you any attention, you distance yourself from them. When you're in a safe distance and are not stopped by one of them, you make a run for it. Grabbing a wine bottle from someone's hold, ignoring them complaining, you make it upstairs and try to find a place where you can be alone. Before they find you.

You know once they notice you're not there, they'll be looking for you. Well, your brother will for sure. Even though he can be a dick, he's worried. But let him. That's what he gets for not letting you enjoy tonight. 

Passing by people who either mingle or make out, you try a few doors that are locked. Wise decision. Another reason why Jungkook seems to know how these parties go. It seems almost impossible to find a place where no one is. 

Just when you become tired and desperate, you make it to the quieter part of the house. It's weird because there are people everywhere. It's impossible to find somewhere quiet and empty. 

Luckily for you, you end up in a room that seems to be some sort of office. It's medium sized, definitely not one of the biggest rooms in this massive house, but still bigger than your kitchen and room together. 

It seems Jungkook has forgotten to lock this room. There's nothing special about it though. But he definitely doesn't want anyone to have sex on the wooden desk you pass by. There are a few shelves with books and a lamp, but other than that it's pretty empty. Oh, and there's a small couch. It looks expensive but it seems like they've brought it here just to put it somewhere. Not that it doesn't fit in here.

But it definitely doesn't look as expensive as the furniture you've managed to see in your short stay here. What has it been? Two hours? Two awful hours and no fun. 

Making it onto a small balcony, you sigh in relief when you find it open. It's facing the back of the house and your mouth drops when you see a fountain, pool and a garden in the distance. He's filthy rich. His parents are.

Sitting on the cold ground, you take a sip of the wine. Your features scrunch in disgust but you force yourself to drink. It's more from the whole annoyance and anger you've been feeling ever since you came here.

Maybe they were right.

This place is not for you.

You have no idea how long you end up sitting there. 

You just stare, hearing the blasting music in the distance and the chatter of people. You wonder if any neighbor called the police on him. But they're in the distance, probably they don't hear it as much.

There's a forest around you. There are no cars, no barking and no city noise. You wonder how this place feels like when there's no party. It must be calm and relaxing.

“Here you are.”

You hear it as soon as the balcony door slides open, ignoring the hint of annoyance in his voice as you take another gulp.

“You can't disappear like that!”

You chuckle, “Really? Watch me.”

“Your brother went crazy when you disappeared.”

“Sounds like a him problem.” you shrug.

“Are you drunk?”

You give him a look, a lazy smile making it onto your face.

“Where did you get that?”

“You know this is the most you've spoken to me since I've known you.” you take a note out loud.

He ignores you though. “You're gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a me problem, no?”

“God, you're such a brat,” he groans, “And get off the ground, you're gonna get sick.”

Snorting, you shake your head. “You're acting just like my brother.”

“You're irresponsible.”

That causes you to get a whiplash from how fast you glare at him. “I am not. Y'all act as if I can't do things on my own. Not only does my brother try to control me and watch over my shoulder every goddamn minute, you started doing it too!”

“He's worried about you.”

“Whatever,” you grumble, “Go back to blondie and leave me alone. Or snitch to my brother about my whereabouts, I'm sure he will get me out of here.”

He stays though. He doesn't move and doesn't speak for a moment. Instead, he sighs and sits next to you. 

“I wanted you to have fun.”

“Well, that didn't work, did it?”

“Look at you,” he chuckles, nudging lightly on your shoulder. “You seem to have fun on your own.”

“Yeah, spending Valentine's Day alone on the balcony of my brother's best friend is just so much fun.”

He laughs. He actually laughs and gives you an approving nod once he realizes you're right. “You're not alone anymore.”

You give him a look but before he can elaborate, he motions toward the bottle in your hand with his head. 

“Give me that.”

“No, this is the only fun I have.”

“C'mon, I will drink with you.”

Your surprise comes out before you give him a suspicious look. “You will?”

“Yeah.” he agrees and takes the bottle you hesitantly give him.

He takes a small sip, not a few gulps as you expect him to. “Is that all you got?”

“For tonight, yeah.”

“Why?” you question.

“I will take you home.”

You scoff, but then he continues. 

“After you decide you wanna go home.”

“Really?” Your surprise makes it out again. “You're not gonna kick me out?”

“I would never kick you out.” 

You make a face, “But my brother–”

“Your brother can be a dick sometimes.”

“Woah.”

“Don't act like you don't know it.”

“I do, but I'm just surprised you're the one saying it.”

He sets the bottle on the other side of him. It doesn't go unnoticed by you but you decide not to fight with him, especially once you feel the alcohol doing its job. 

“Well, I've seen it from his side and I gotta be honest, he's protective. Sometimes overly but he's not doing it because he hates you, y'know?”

“I know he doesn't hate me,” you inform him. “It's just annoying sometimes.”

“But now I've seen more of your side and he should just let you live.”

You nod in appreciation with lips pursed, “Wow, thank you.”

He smiles, “You still do a lot of stuff just to get back at him. You're not making it any easier, huh?”

You laugh, “It's my rebellion.” 

You sit there for a moment in complete silence. Jungkook stands up and leaves. You act as if you're not disappointed but before you can reach for the bottle that Jungkook has left here, the door slides open again and Jungkook wraps a blanket around you. 

“Don't look so surprised.”

“Wow, JK does something nice for a girl?”

“I can do a lot of nice things.”

“Is there a double-meaning or?” you trail off, causing him to laugh as he shakes his head.

“Not like that.”

Yeah, because you're his brother's best friend.

Not that you would ever want something with him. Only in your most secretive dreams but that's beside the point. Jungkook is not boyfriend material. You've seen it today more than ever. But you can't deny that he attracts you in the weirdest way possible. You have never experienced that with anyone. 

He's your type. When it comes to looks. And you're slightly ashamed to admit that some of his behavior attracts you. Basically, it's a red flag but what do they say? I'm color blind?

“How are you not freezing?”

It's February and you're sitting on a balcony. 

“I'm drunk.”

God, you're going to end up sick. Even your drunk self scolds you. 

“You wanna go home?”

“Not yet.”

He nods, not protesting as you both stare ahead. Your thoughts run wild, even in their slow pace because of alcohol flowing in your system.

“I was so annoyed because today's Valentine's Day,” you start, chuckling at yourself. “At first I thought I was just annoyed because everyone's in love and everything about today is about love. I do think it's overrated though.”

“I don't know, I never cared about it to be honest.”

You laugh, “Did you make today's party for all anti-romanticists?”

“No, I would've done it either way.” he chuckles. 

“Did you ever make something romantic for Valentine's Day?”

He makes a face, frowning but silently laughing amusingly at the thought of it. “No.”

“You know what? I think I was more annoyed that secretly maybe I crave for something romantic. Not necessarily a relationship.”

“Or maybe you just feel the pressure of today's ridiculous holiday and people around you.”

You snort, “You're just saying that because you're not in love.”

“Love's not for me. Not that kind at least.”

“And what kind?”

“I loved our family dog.”

You laugh, “That's different. I'm not talking about that.”

“I know you don't. Just sayin', love has all forms.” 

You hum, sighing before you start shivering. 

“Come on, let's go inside. You're freezing.”

“But–”

“We don't have to go home.”

“Or maybe I should. I'm getting tired. And I think I'm gonna throw up.”

“You were mixing hard liquor with wine. You will.” he agrees and once you nudge him, he laughs at you. “C'mon, you little brat. It's time to go home.”

As he makes sure you don't fall on the stairs, giving you the support you almost stumble when your brother makes his way toward you, breathless and relieved once he sees you.

“Where the hell have you been?! I've been looking for you everywhere. We've been looking for you! Why do you have the blanket?”

“Found her on the balcony.”

“What were you doing there?!” He screeches.

“Don't worry, I wasn't going to jump. But if I'm gonna have to keep up with your annoying ass for one more second, maybe I will.”

“You're drunk.” He scoffs.

“And honest.” you add.

“And where are you going?”

“I'm gonna take her home.” Jungkook answers, helping you with the last step as your brother stares with mouth wide open. 

“Like the hell you will! You were drinking.”

“I wasn't,” he responds. “Not since I was with her anyway.”

“Doesn't mean you don't have alcohol in you.”

“I don't. I'm fine.”

You didn't even realize he wasn't drinking anymore. God. You really can be a pain in the ass too. But that's your brother's doing though. He should've never ordered Jungkook to look after you. 

“You're the one who reeks of alcohol,” Jungkook informs him calmly, “Or you want someone else to take her?”

He shakes his head, still hesitant. He walks closer to you and wraps the blanket tighter around your form. “Are you gonna be fine?”

“Yeah, I trust Jungkook. Don't you?”

“I do.” He doesn't hesitate. 

He gives one final nod to Jungkook as he leads you out of the house. As you're walking out of it, you spot blondie with a group of what seems like her friends, glaring the shit out of you. You stick out your tongue when Jungkook's busy opening the door for you. The look on your face causes you to smirk.

Jungkook gets you inside his flashy car and you're kinda doomed that you're too drunk to look around and appreciate the expensive type of vehicle. You're drifting in and out of your consciousness. But you notice Jungkook stopping in front of a convenience store, informing you he'll be right back. And he is. It seems like he's been gone for a minute because you close your eyes, open them and he's already there.

The drive and walk to your home is quick. You get to walk on your own, much to your embarrassment there are no accidents of stumbling or falling. As soon as you make it past your doormat, you make it inside your bathroom and throw up in the sink. It's embarrassing once you hear Jungkook behind you, helping you with your hair. He doesn't say anything, just letting you throw up everything that's currently in your stomach. 

“I should take a shower.”

“Fuck that. Go lay down. I will lock the door.”

“Lock?”

“Your brother gave me his spare keys.”

“Oh.”

After a few minutes of bickering, you still insist on taking a shower. Jungkook sighs and lets you do your own thing, patiently waiting in the living room. Once you make it out in your pajamas that consist of your brother's huge t-shirt, you find him scrolling through his phone. 

“You gonna be fine?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You're seconds from passing out. You might've stumbled in the bath a few times but you hope he didn't hear that. 

You drag your feet to your bedroom and fall onto bed. You'll cover yourself later. As soon as you lay down, you ignore your spinning head and the disgusting taste of vomit that is still present, even though you've brushed and rinsed your teeth even in your drunken state.

The night is wild.

You throw up a few times, finding a prepared bucket beside your bed but unfortunately, you don't make it into it the first time. Once you wake up with a messy and aching head, you notice vomits on your floor and you cringe at yourself. Disgusting. 

You wake up around twelve, finally in a better state to leave your eyes open without having to vomit everywhere. You're about to reach for your phone, knowing you're going to have at least a dozen messages from your brother. But you stop yourself as you stare at things that weren't on your nightstand before.

There's a glass of water. A box of painkillers and a chocolate bar wrapped in a package filled with pink and red hearts. 

There's a note stuck to it. 

'Happy Valentine's Day, JK'

You stare, reading the note over and over again. 

And they say romance is dead.

[asuyaka]

This one is for you, baby!

★ - hellooo!!! original idea comes from sanjisboyfie <33 (user s so real but m more of a Zoro guy ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ )

☆ - Basketball Player Gojo Satoru x Male Reader!

♡ - CW: homophobia but you and Satoru deal with it!

If there's anything to know about Gojo Satoru, the top scorer of the 'Jujutsu' basketball team, is that he has a boyfriend.

And God does he love [Name] to the ends of infinity and back.

It was a scandal when the press first saw you two technically three since Satoru's best friend Suguru was there too together, doing the unthinkable.

Holding hands.

Articles and Magazines came out with headlines like "Player for the Kaisen Basketball team, Gojo Satoru is gay?!" or "Should kids be allowed to watch Gojo Satoru play?" came out. Every time during a game, there would always be someone who, without a doubt, asked if the rumors were true.

Their coach, Yaga Masamichi, advised Satoru to stay neutral on the situation until it blew over. But if there's one thing Gojo Satoru is not good at doing, it's following orders.

So, he brought you to a game one day. Bout you a court-side seat (even though it was expensive as hell), and made sure you were wearing his jersey.

He was playing against an almost equally talented team, the 'Cursed' with their star player, Itadori Sukuna (older brother to the friend of Satoru's son).

Thirty seconds before the last quarter ended, the score was tied, 104 to 104. Satoru had the ball, dribbling it down the court as time seemed to move faster.

He passed to Suguru, running down to the three-point line to make the last shot of the game.

Your heart was thumping violently against your chest, hands gripping the hem of Satoru's jersey as you watched the ball swish through the net as the end-game buzzer went off.

Cheers immediately erupted from the crowd as the ball bounced on the floor two final times, securing the Championship for Satoru's team.

What he does next surprises you. Satoru and Suguru don't do their usual handshake after winning a game—no— he makes a beeline towards you, using his wide arms to pick you up by your waist, and then he kisses you.

On National TV, in front of several people, with absolutely no shame.

Satoru smiles at you, it's full of teeth and nevertheless beautiful before putting you down.

That was when the public knew about how kind Gojo Satoru could be when he was not on the court and the only person who managed to pull that personality out of him.

Back to the present, you're sitting court-side again, way after the game was over, relaxing on your phone while Satoru and Suguru were looking to see who could make the most free-throws to decide who was paying for their victory food.

It was pointless, really, because they're both rich as shit so the competition was stupid, and Suguru was most likely going to win since free-throws were how he scored points 96.99% of the time.

Your throat feels a bit parched from all the cheering you were doing, so you get up with a yawn, stretching your body and rubbing your eyes slightly. "I'm gonna go get something to drink, maybe use the bathroom too."

Satoru turns to look at you with a smile. "Use my card and be back quick! Watch me dunk on Suguru's head!"

A ball slams against the back of his hair, a loud laugh erupting from behind him. "You can't score on me, your defense is ass."

Satoru grabs the ball with new-found malice in his eyes. "One-on-one, right now. Loser has to post whatever the other says on their Twitter account."

Suguru smirks. "Bet."

You roll your eyes at their antics as you put on Satoru's jacket. Satoru is tall, much bigger than you so the sleeves fall right past your arms. It looks like a dress on you, but that's how most of Satoru's clothes look, you've gotten used to it.

You use the bathroom, rolling Satoru's sleeves up as you start to wash your hands. The door opens, and a man walks in.

It's a bathroom, people are obviously going to enter inside so you pay it no mind. It starts to raise a few flags in your head when the man stays there, too close for comfort as his shoulder brushes against yours.

"You're dating that gay dude, right?"

The question takes you by surprise. You slowly go back to drying your hands, looking at the man through the mirror with a blank look on your face. "Excuse me?"

The man scoffs. "Don't play stupid. Gojo? You're the gaybo that's dating him, right?"

Now, you aren't a rude person. You don't believe in violence and while you'll stand up for yourself when needed, you aren't one to sit down and let yourself get disrespected. "Yes, I'm dating Satoru. Is that a problem?"

The man's face contorts in obvious disgust before turning into something malicious. "Fuckin' thought so. Now that your little boyfriend isn't here, me and you can talk, right?"

You unroll Satoru's sleeves and pull up the zipper. "I'm not interested, thank you though." You respond in a passive-aggressive tone, moving towards the door before a hand pushes you back.

"I said, we're going to talk, right?"

Your face hardens and you cross your arms. "And I said, I'm not interested. Now if you excuse me, I have a boyfriend that's waiting for me on the court."

The man stands before the door, using his frame to block the exit. Instantly dropping the 'nice guy' act, he stares at you like you're dirt underneath his shoe. "I never understood why people are gay. You seriously like taking it up the ass?"

That's where this was going.

You rub your temples as a long sigh leaves your lips. "Okay, great, can I leave now?"

"Can't you understand what I'm saying?!" The man raises his voice. "You're supposed to like—"

"Listen man," You interrupt with a bored expression. "I really don't care what you think of my relationship. I love Satoru, Satoru loves me, we're happy. Now, if you don't have anything else you want to tell me, I'll be leaving now."

As soon as you reach for the door knob, it slams open, colliding the man (and your hand) with the wall.

You wince harshly as you wave it around, profusely blowing on it as if it'd relieve the pain. Satoru's expression turns from confused to concerned very easily.

"Baby? Oh shit, I'm sorry..." He shushes you softly, bringing your hand to the sink to run some cold water over it.

"I won, by the way, Suguru sucks at basketball." Satoru mutters softly, like he's trying to distract you from the throbbing pain in your hand.

You nod gently as the pain slowly subsides. It isn't all the way gone, but it's bearable enough for you not to feel it as much. Satoru notices easily, bringing your hand up to place a kiss on it. "Feelin' better?"

"Yeah... thanks Satoru."

He smiles—it's the smile he only uses with you, it makes your heart giddy— placing a kiss on your forehead as he takes your other (unbruised) hand, leading you outside the bathroom.

Suguru is waiting, plainly dressed in a black turtleneck and black cargo pants, tearing his eyes away from his phone when he notices the two of you.

Satoru takes his bags and your bag, briefly leaving his hand from yours as he slings them over his shoulder. He's quick to reconnect them, putting his signature glasses on his face. "Ready, Suguru?"

Suguru flips him off, stuffing his phone in his pocket and fishing out his car keys. "You two make me homophobic."

"T'aww," Satoru teases, using his elbow to nudge it into Suguru's bicep. "Suguru jealous that he's single? That he won't have the privilege of dating the beautiful, handsome, pretty, attractive, alluring, eye-catching—"

"Oh my God, shut up!"

You laugh softly, thanking Satoru as he opens the door for you, closing it when you're secured inside and quickly going to the seat beside you.

The pain is your hand becomes an after thought as Suguru and Satoru keep bickering over the tiniest things, like the car mist Suguru uses, to how cold it is, and Suguru's lack of a significant other.

You sigh. Why would you pay attention to the pain in your hand when you have your boyfriend to look at?

He's a beautiful man after all, a man that you love from infinity and beyond.

Stars in the sky ☆

@sanjisboyfie

[brucewaynehater101]

I have a vent fic wip that I may or may not finish so I just need to tell someone that I am...feeling so many things all the time about the consequences of the 16th birthday but...

primarily, right now, at this moment. without Robin/Bruce, Tim thought he would lose Dick and everyone else he knew through Robin. and then a little bit later when he quit for Jack, he got radio silence for Months until he became a potential victim, and even then it was just Cass stopping in to give the message and be like "I'll watch you to keep you safe 👁️👁️ ok bye" and he had actual Proof that without Robin, he would lose everyone.

and then. Dick "you're my equal (even tho I'm drastically changing your life without your knowledge or permission), you're my closest ally (even tho you don't even have a name to go out in the field to assist me as backup), I need you (even tho, as mentioned, I made a huge decision without your input because I didn't need it because I know best actually)" Grayson.

skipping over the fact that Dick didn't even have the time to say "you're fired" or anything resembling that, when Tim lost "Robin" to Damian, he felt like he lost everything else too. it didn't matter what Dick said about "equals" or "allies" or "needing". he already had Concrete Proof that it was all false. cheap words that are easily disproven do nothing in this situation, Dichard!

(disclaimer: I love and respect Dick Grayson, I just also think Dick Stopped Existing as soon as he made Damian his Robin for the most pathetic stupid illogical risky-ass excuse he could ever give for making anyone Robin (or a vigilante in general). "because he'll kill someone again". who the fuck says that?? who thinks "oh no oh god oh fuck this kid is gonna go off the rails he's gonna kill someone, I need to Put Him In A Place Of Power Over Oblivious Innocent Untrained People Who Are Expecting A Kind And Empathetic Hero To Save Them" hUH???? ok sorry, I just wanted to rant about what Tim "losing Robin" meant)

I agree with ya. Dick Grayson is fantastic, but it seems weird that he nuked his entire relationship with Tim (a very strong one that other fans have referred to them as "The Brothers") for the new kid.

Yes, Damian is a ten year old traumatized kid who just lost the dad he didn't really have the chance to get to know. Yes, Damian needed guidance, boundaries, and compassion.

But DC spent so much time and effort building up Tim and Dick's rapport only to obliterate it once the "blood son" came in (I also love Damian. This is not hate on the kid. This is confused commentary on DC's choices). It's just a strange idea, but that's also why it hurts so much when Dick does that to Tim.

Then you tie in Tim losing Robin by Dick to Tim's experiences before? Fuck. You are so right for that.

As far as the RR run, Dick could've handled Tim believing Bruce a bit better. I don't necessarily blame him for that one. I get why he wasn't supportive in the way Tim wanted, even though I would've chosen differently for my siblings.

Dick taking Robin, though? That was fucked up. I, honest to the gods, do not see how that was a justified course of action. I can understand his perspective, but it's still not okay. At all.

There's your very adequate analysis:

Robin, for Tim, is his tie to his loved ones. He has proof (twice) that without it, he does not have access to the people he cares about and his support system.

Dick said a lot of pretty words about "equals," but his actions were precisely contradictory to his "intentions."

Tim has had Robin taken from him before or had to give it up. He chose to go back despite this. He obviously feels strongly about being Robin

Damian has not proven, at this point, to be trustworthy as a vigilante (someone in power without oversight). He has instead shown use of excessive force

This isn't even going into the way he found out. That's just an extra layer.

The way Tim has repeated lost and regained Robin (even after RR) as well as his title as Red ROBIN are, to me, a sign that he's still trying to hold on. It's my belief that he would have moved onto a new title, like his predecessors, if it hadn't constantly been an unsure role.

His start was rocky as hell due to Bruce not initially wanting it. Tim had to prove himself and put himself into the costume.

He "quit" twice before it was taken from him in a traumatic way (nothing like being instilled with the fear that the position you've held for four years can suddenly be yanked out from under you without warning)

Damian and Jason both vehemently protested to him being Robin

It would make sense if all of these factors combined to Tim's unwillingness or inability to just let Robin go, especially when we factor in his reason to be Robin. Since Bruce never really gets "better" and continually falls back into bad habits, Tim needs to maintain his task of pulling Bruce back from the edge. We could also throw Jean Paul into this to further how Tim is forced to play as the barrier between a grown adult and their desire to harm others in the name of good.

So, Tim's time as Robin is marked by consistent instability while contrasted with his inherent position as Bruce's leash and the batfam fixer. While the other Robins did have times of doubt, the predecessors of Tim did not have the pervasive role insecurity with regards to Robin.

They had their big moment at the end and some smaller moments in-between, but not quite on the continous scale of Tim. Tim had three big moments and was still sucked back into Robin when Damian quit.

To be Robin is to earn Bruce's love and the ability to be part of the Wayne family. To lose Robin is the risk of losing that (at least to the perspectives of the Robins if not 100% the reality).

I'm not sure I'm articulating this accurately. Regardless, no wonder Tim clutches the title of Robin with bleeding hands no matter how much it cuts him and costs him.

[lemon-tree-in-paperbag]

Are you fucking stupid? How tf are individual artists from Russia, often ones who are oppressed by Putin's regime themselves eg because they're queer (as many people on tumblr are including one of the Russian artists whom I know personally) responsible for the actions of their government? Obviously I stand with Ukraine but you CANNOT use a dictator's actions as an excuse for xenophobia. That's bullshit

Hey! You are so brave for writing this anonymously☹️☹️💗

So umm, here's the thing! I am not a xenophobe! I am a victim of genocide that is being committed against my country and my people! Against me too!

And hey! I can hate my agressor! Because THEY are destroying my home and because of them my life was ruined! Wanna know how? I had to leave my home forever! I had to live under russian occupation, had to sit at home for three whole months, had to turn off every light as soon as the it got dark outside! I had to live in the cold ass basement! I hate to sleep sitting up for several days in a row with my nervous dog in my hands and i could do it only when my mom wasn't asleep!

I had to watch russian occupants in the eye when i was leaving my hometown, again, for like... forever!😚

I had to hear shelling every night and day! I had to hide my ukrainian language in my phone and delete all of my information from my phone so i wouldn't get shot!!!

I would think how am i, a 15 year old, will be saving my brother, if something happens to my mom! I would think for every day after that: do i got what it takes? If the russians WERE SHOOTING AT US would i protect my little 10 y.o. brother?

BUT HEEEY of course not all of them are bad! Of course you know some good russians:)

I am not dumb for hating people who fucked me up SO BADLY that i still can't leave my house (which i will have to leave behind, just as my hometown too) that i still get scared at the sound of thunder and planes!

If they are oppressed, please, let them be my guest and do something about it, but i do not fucking care. Queer doesn't equal good, too, actually, so your comment about that doesn't make any sense

Dictators actions didn't kill them! But his actions and their silence OR support kill my people. Hey, do you read news? Yesterday a man had to bury his whole family because of "dictators actions"

You know what's bullshit? You telling me what i can and can't do, meanwhile i still suffer every day, and my friends and my family too, because of russia

I don't want to know about them, i do not care about them, i don't want to hear about them. In my eyes they made ukrainian's life a living hell. And world doesn't care about this and tries to clear their name

Shut up and listen what victims have to say, you illiterate fuck

Sorry for the rude comment😚 fucking stupid of me to know what's really happening

My dear western friends! Do not act like this individual here:) listen to ukrainians!!

OR if you do think like this anonymous PLEASE DNI, i don't want you here

Xoxo

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: Someone turns up on Sanemi's doorstep after the final war - that someone being a part of Genya's life Sanemi regrets never knowing. A/N: NGL I lost a lot of respect for Sanemi after he tried to poke Genya's eyes out but I do feel really bad for him after the final battle with Muzan because what is he going to live for now? What's he going to do? Fall into depression, probably, and that just made me sad so here we are to be sad together. You don't have a choice. WARNINGS: Genya x GN Reader but mainly Platonic!Sanemi x Reader

Seeing as nearly everyone he had known was dead after the final war, the hesitant knocking at his door startled the wits out of one former Wind Hashira.

He probably shouldn’t have stayed up late last night drinking and wasting everything away because he could barely see straight stumbling towards the doors, cursing the early dawn, the furniture he stubbed his toe on and the pounding in his head, but nothing numbed the dull grief and pain better than being blackout drunk and coma-like sleep. At least Sanemi wasn’t seeing double like last time.

Although he was wondering if he was hallucinating shit, because ain’t no freaking way there was someone showing up at his doorstep at 6 in the morning asking if he was Shinazugawa and if he could please, if he didn’t mind, help them find someone?

“Yeah…what?”

They repeat their question, tugging nervously at their sleeves, hopeful underneath all that anxiety. “Are you Shinazugawa Sanemi? Genya told me to go find you if…”

“He’s-”

His first reaction, out of force of habit, was to deny that he had any brother, but the words glued themselves to the sides of his throat and would only spill out in the form of ugly sobbing. His second reaction was pretty much equally brutal: tell them that his brother had long died, sliced in half by the late Upper Moon One, all because he had failed in every duty possible, as a brother, as a slayer, as a human. But Sanemi, undeniably, had mellowed out and if he had to crack that porcelain-frail look of desperate hope in their eyes he too would shatter in his precarious mental state.

So he settled for delaying the inevitable. “If what? You a slayer?”

“No,” they say, shaking their head. “I…he was my, um…”

Oh.

No.

Please no.

“Your boyfriend,” he barks out bluntly, but tries to tone down and soften his expression when they wince, flustered. “That’s…”

Unexpected. He could still remember a time when Genya either beat down everyone and not gave a rat’s ass about it or when he would explode into a ripe tomato if someone good looking so much as said hello to him. Or maybe sweet. Sanemi’s always wanted him to have a normal life, go get married, have a family, live peacefully to a ripe old age while he did the bloody work of slaying. At least he got a taste of it. Most of all…sad, really. Sad that he pushed his younger brother away so much he never even know he’d fallen in love, someone new had entered his life, he’s gotten over his emotional constipation somewhat. Sad that he never got to spend the rest of his life with them like Sanemi had no doubt he had promised. Sad that they had never known, all this while, that Genya would never stagger home to them.

It seemed like this conversation would be one of trailed-off sentences.

They nod. “Yes…”

“Huh. Can see why he liked you,” Sanemi says off-handedly, but remembers he never actually knew what his brother’s type was. Funny how he only realized it was stupid of him to keep trying to cut off ties with his only brother after he died. But they are cute in their mannerisms, the air that just made you want to protect them forever, wrapped in innocence. No wonder Genya fell in love.

“Liked?” Their expression falls, but it’s still hopeful.

Sanemi can’t think what’s worse, for her to have the only option of thinking that Genya has moved on, fallen for someone else, left them behind because the other option is too terrible to contemplate. It’s the truth, however.

“Liked,” he repeats, and he can feel his mind just wanting to succumb to the hopeless pain. Sanemi digs his nails into his palm and bites the insides of his cheeks instead.

“I think I should start from the beginning.”

“Come on in, then.”

He waits until they're further into the room before he releases a breath, slumps his shoulders and stares at the sky to mouth his apologies to his brother for not giving him enough time to spend with them, to the gods for leading them on for so long, to someone, anyone, who would spare a sinner like him some forgiveness as he prepared to cry all over again about Genya.

***

“And then he told me if he isn’t at Himejima’s Estate, go find his older brother who’s probably living alone somewhere, scaring everyone away with his temper and dog.”

They laugh, clear as bells, at the memory, hiding their smile behind the steaming cup of tea, but it’s broken, like their fake grins and the mug in their hands. Sanemi wants to laugh too (is this how you really saw me, Genya, after all I did to you?), but he might actually start the waterworks. Sanemi was already halfway there, listening to his brother’s secret romance and everything he missed out because of his own foolishness.

“He said he hoped he’d finally be there with you, or if he wasn’t, you’d tell me where he went.”

I could tell you where he went, Sanemi agreed, because I saw him. When I was dying. And he was dead.

They fidgets, tugging at their clothes again. “I waited a really long time for a letter. He said he’d send me one if he could after the…after the fight, but it was so long. I checked up on Himejima’s Estate all the time, but he was never there. Nobody was. I asked around; they told me the owner had died and - and -”

“I know.” If he was a better person Sanemi would probably be reaching out to put a hand on their shoulder, assure them. If he were a better brother Genya would be alive and drinking tea with them. But he was none of those and so all he could do was awkwardly say two words. “Go on.”

“I didn’t know to look after that.” They wipe at their face, setting down the cup. “Genya said you had white hair and was covered in scars, and well, there aren’t that many of those sort of people around, but even then it took me forever to find you. I tried tracking down Muichiro, but I couldn’t either.”

Tokito. Another failure. Sanemi turned away slightly.

“Then I finally found Tanjiro last week. He’d been trying to find me as well, but heh, since I kept traveling it made it hard.” They shrug. “He told me where to find you, so here I am. Sorry for intruding…but it’s a little late for that.”

They glance around, clinging onto the belief. “Is he - is he here? Can I see him?”

“Yeah,” Sanemi whispers hoarsely. “I’ll take you to him.”

Not before he winds up sobbing himself dry on their shoulder, pathetically trying to assure them as well as tears streamed down both their faces.

***

There was no body but Sanemi had carved out a tombstone for him anyway.

It was under a tree, scattered with leaves, wilting flowers and weeds watered by his grief. Sometimes when Sanemi’s more sober and when he can light a candle without burning anything else he’ll leave some there, so waxy stubs are left over. That Kamado kid and his friends came down sometimes and left behind their mementos as well. Unlike his own home, Sanemi did his best to keep it clean.

He left to give them some privacy, walking a little further away, but even so the wind carried their words over and Sanemi couldn’t pretend he couldn’t hear them raging against fate, death, Genya.

“Why?”

“Why you?”

“Why would you do this to me?”

You and me both, kid, Sanemi thinks.

“You said you’d come back! You said you’d take me to see your aniki! We were going to - there was so much we haven’t - what am I supposed to do now, Genya? You were supposed to be here with Sanemi-san as well, not just me!”

He’s always been too caught up with himself. Damn, blind to what Genya really wanted to the end, Sanemi thinks wryly.

For a moment there seems to be someone else beside him. He turns and for a moment he sees someone’s shadow on the ground, someone smiling, someone asking. Someone who didn’t want him to go squandering his life on regrets; a favor, the silhouette seemed to say, so will you do it for me?

The answer was always yes - Sanemi blinks, and it’s gone, so he hurries back to the grave.

They're dragged out of their misery by a heavy hand, rough but gentle. “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be.” They hiccup and drag a hand across their face. “I'm sorry. Sorry for…I wish you both had gotten a chance…”

Sanemi laughed, voice scratchy. “That was my own fault.”

“You know what I mean.” They managed to roll their eyes.

“Where you going now?”

“I'm…not sure. I don't know. Back to my hometown, maybe, but there's not really anyone there.”

Anyone to go back to, they meant.

“Tch.” He began to stomp back to the house, gesturing for them to follow. Sanemi pauses at the doorway, frowning, and turns back. “You planning to sit there all day? You can stay if you like, I don't like the idea of you walking around alone and defenceless.”

“Stay - what?”

“Stay,” Sanemi agrees, exasperation in his tone at their stunned, slow reaction. “And you're having ohagi for breakfast whether you like it or not.”

***

Days fly past.

Mostly they’re spent in mourning together. Privately Sanemi preferred this to the funeral they had held with what was left of the Corps, because it feels more…closer. Similar. Here were two people that were a part of a big chunk of Genya’s life and yet never knew the other part.

They sat at the grave a lot and just…nothing. There were no tears or comfort. Just silence, never knowing what to do because you’ve been living for someone who’s now dead so you could live, but what are YOU living for? Sanemi wished time and time again he’d be the one to bite it. Not like anyone much would miss him, and maybe all those times he’d been hurting his brother was so Genya could move on in the event he died, very much unlike him right now.

On the third day they finally made conversation.

“So…” Sanemi cleared his throat. “How’d you both meet, since, y’know, he’s a slayer?”

They squint at the dirt, absently pulling up blades of grass. “I didn’t actually know he was one until a lot later, but even then he didn’t tell me much.” They tilted up their head. “He never wanted to expose that part of his life to me. I thought he was just another traveler when we first met; I offered him a room in my house.”

“House? Will you go back there?” Suddenly Sanemi is seized with panic - if they, his one and only link to Genya now, went back, and he ended up alone again…

“It’s not really my house. It’s more like…my employer’s house at that time…”

“Ah. So you’ve got nowhere to go for now?”

“Mhm. When I got fired I stayed over at Himejima’s occasionally. Then Genya sent me away before…yeah, before all that.” They blink and their eyes glisten. “What was he like, as a slayer? I knew he was different or something, because Tanjiro and his friends used a sword and some technique he couldn’t master, so the gun and all.”

Unbeknownst to everyone Sanemi had been watching his little brother train all those years ago. It’d be the first time he exposed himself. “He was really hard-working. Threw in everything he had to try and learn Breathing Techniques but he just couldn’t master it, and I think it took a big toll on Genya. I didn’t help much.”

“It’s alright. He forgives you.”

“Present tense?”

“Would he have told me to go look for you if he hadn’t?”

There. The real reason Sanemi would lose it if they left. He needed someone, something, anything to prove all the accusing, guilty voices in his head that Genya hadn’t died hating him.

“Tch. Fair enough. Tell me about his life outside the Corps now.”

***

Weeks go by.

Having them around, Sanemi discovers, is a stark reminder of what had happened to Genya, yet not in a bad way. Sanemi started forcing himself to bathe more frequently, take care of himself better - don’t want them having to put up with my stench - not just doing the bare minimum for his dog. He’d been alone and heartbroken for so long he’s honestly stopped functioning like a normal person, forgotten what Genya had died for.

Now he had to go out and buy food more consistently because he wasn’t the only one around anymore. Sanemi had to get around to repairing all those things that had fallen to ruins at the Wind Estate. Grudgingly he even agreed to let them take over cooking meals in order to get more than just ohagi in his diet.

But he only really noticed the differences when one morning Sanemi staggered into the kitchen looking for a drink after another round of restless nightmares and instead stumbled onto them dumping the contents of the sake bottle he left out down the drain.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sanemi made a grab for it but they ducked out of reach, flinching at the sudden yell.

“Getting rid of this. You’ve been drinking a lot lately.”

“For a damn reason!”

“What reason?”

Because every day is painful and I just want it all to go away, isn’t it obvious? Sanemi dug his nails into his palm again, muttering obscenities.

“I thought you of all people should know better than to cope like this.”

“I-”

He should. He remembered the former Flame Hashira before Rengoku. He recalled Kyogo.

Sanemi had always feared he would turn out like his father and here he was proving everyone right. Genya wouldn’t have wanted that…god, what was wrong with him?

“You’re right.”

They watched uneasily as Sanemi stalked off, but they had nothing to worry about. Sanemi threw out the rest of the bottles that day and apologized to the grave.

“Bet he’s pretty mad I turned out like this after all he fought for.” A scarred hand gestures listlessly at the headstone, the other holding a cup. The both of them sat in evening silence, watching the wind flitter around from the engawa. Remaining rain droplets trickle down from the roof.

“Genya?’ They set down their cup and ponder. “Not really. He could never get mad at you.”

Sanemi snorts. “Never?”

“Never.”

“Ah, he should’ve.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m here.” They flash him a smile. In truth they could’ve been his sibling regardless - sibling-in-law, but he’d settle for surrogate now.

Sanemi rolls his eyes but likes the idea more than he admits, of Genya watching over him even now…because it has to mean he’s forgiven him, right, for everything he did wrong? “What was he like?”

“Huh?”

“Y’know.” Sanemi draws random blobs in the air, vague shapes of hearts. “When you both were-”

“SHINAZUGAWA!”

“Did you make out? At least once. You had to.”

They’re mortified and got up several times to leave but not before Sanemi’s heard everything he missed out: yes, they’d gotten to the kissing stage but no, they did not make out, why was he so vulgar, yes, Genya often had a panic attack every time they held hands, yes, they could show him all the dried flowers Genya had gifted them, stop laughing at their confession story, you’re right, Genya was horribly obvious with his blushy crush phase and NO, Shinazugawa, Genya would self combust before they ever got to the topic of marriage or starting a family!

***

Years pass.

Sanemi’s gotten married. Four mini-mes running around as well, a fifth on the way. He likes to think of it as a parallel between him and his own siblings, because his oldest is the only to inherit his shock of white hair and the second bears a striking resemblance to Genya. They think so too, written clearly on their faces every time they look at him.

Speaking of them, they hadn’t left all this while and Sanemi doesn’t want them to. Not when they’ve been there to pull him out of his depressive state, united in grief, see him fall in love with a local girl, urge him to court her despite his anxious worries, stood next to him when he was getting hitched, supported him throughout fatherhood and babysat the four hurricanes when he and his wife went out on date nights.

It’d be just as bad as losing Genya.

“You better be good for them, or I’ll string you all up by your feet.” Despite Sanemi’s threatening words he’s unusually gentle as he peels his two youngest from his legs as they cling on and whine at him and mom not to go out without them, they wanted to go see the fireworks too, can’t they stay up late this one time?

“Don’t worry, they’re all angels.” They help remove the other two older ones from their mom, rolling their eyes. “And before you say anything, yes, I’ll get them all to bed before ten.”

“Sometimes I think Sanemi nags more than I do,” his beloved jokes, taking his arm and the both of them leave, calling out to the protesting kids as they’re hauled off inside and the door closes. He’s lucky, he thinks, tucking his wife closer, that even after all this he managed to be happy. He can almost see Genya in front of him, smiling and telling Aniki not to get too naughty, not abandon them for so long to try and control four rowdy kids.

Sanemi wishes the same could be said of them, though.

When he comes back, tells his wife he’ll be back into the bedroom soon, checks on his kids and realizes they’ve disappeared again, Sanemi knows just where to look, quickly making his way to the grave, carrying a lantern and something else.

“You really have to stop coming here in the middle of the night. There’s no more demons, but ya think you’ll be safe?” Sanemi huffs, taking his seat next to them. They snort derisively. “I’m serious! What if you get mauled by some wild animal? Who am I gonna dump the kids on if you’re not here?”

“Tomioka’s around. Kamado too,” they sing-song.

“Tomioka would give my kids depression and maybe I’d trust Kamado but not his friends.”

“You give ME depression.”

“Haha, very funny.” Sanemi passes the slice of watermelon to them, taking a bite of his own. Genya’s headstone looks chipped in the yellow light, worn and old, but still lovingly cared for. “I think he might want you to move on, you know? It’s been years. He’ll understand. He’ll want you to be happy. You can’t keep waiting around, crying and wasting time.”

“You’re stealing my words.”

“Hey, it worked back then, when you told that to me. You’re a hypocrite. Use your own advice.”

“I tried. It didn’t work out. I kept coming back here.” A finger traces the stone, uncertainty in their tone.

“You feel guilty, like you’re being unfaithful to him or something?” Sanemi passes them another slice, awkwardly trying to sympathize. He wants them to be happy as well, after all.

“No, it’s just…” They shrug, head shaking from side to side. “I dunno. I can’t. Not like you did.”

Sanemi understands, suddenlyl, sort of. They gave him their heart and maybe it wasn’t theirs to take back yet. It didn’t really make sense and wasn’t enough of a reason to argue against moving on, but feelings were weird and rarely made enough reason.

“No one’s going to be like him, huh.”

“No. No one,” They agreed, and they both lapsed into silence.

“I mean, the guy we met yesterday looked like a great match-”

“Have fun taking your kids on your next date, Shinazugawa.”

“I was kidding!”

They wipe their mouth and set down their watermelon rind before, a ghost of smile tugging at their lips. “You and Genya really are the same, you know.”

“How?’ Years later and he’s still learning new things he should’ve known during all those years he wasted thinking it was a good idea to push him away. Ah well.

“Um…I guess in the way you both really suck at trying to talk about feelings.”

“You wound me.”

“You’re a former Hashira. But you both try to understand and make me feel better anyway.” They smirk. “In the form of bad jokes, usually.”

“I’m hurt.” Sanemi got the point, mouth twitching.

“So, yeah. You both don’t really know how to do it but you do your best. That’s good enough.”

Sanemi caught their eye. “…good enough for me, at least.” He stood up and picked up the rinds, returning back to his tough boy exterior. “Enough mushy stuff. Go back to bed.”

“Yessir.”

***

“You and Genya really are the same, Sanemi.”

They lean their forehead against the cool, rough headstone. The new one. It was new and clear but now it was wet with tears. “It’s gonna be hard…why did you both have to go?”

Five years later. Sanemi’s slayer mark had finally caught up with him, but not before he had gotten the chance to settle down and leave behind some kids, have another chance at enjoying life, find a new sibling. Still, no one had expected him to just…not wake up one day. It seemed a little too quiet of an ending for the tale of Shinazugawa.

“Where was all your talk about going down in a blaze of glory to the kids last night, huh?” They coughed out a laugh. “I know you must be really pissed to just die like that.”

They’ve been holding it together the past few days, for the sake of Sanemi’s children and his widow. Only now could they cry in quiet, in the same spot where Sanemi and them had cried over Genya. Tomioka’s widow and two kids had joined them as well. Three united in grief.

“I know you said you’re happy you got a chance at all this, Sanemi, but I can’t help feeling like you were robbed of having the full experience in all this. Like Genya all over again. When you see him, tell him I miss him a lot, okay? Still very much head over heels and making an absolute fool of myself…”

They laid down their bouquet, taking a breath. “You also said you were afraid Naomi, Hiroshi and Remi won’t remember you if you die so early in their childhood…it’s alright. I don’t think anyone will forget you. Least of all me. Thanks for everything.”

“I hope you and Genya finally see each other again.”

It wasn’t seen or heard, but rather, felt - a lover’s arm wrapped around their shoulders and a brotherly hand on the other.

[strniohoeee]

Can you do one with Chris where he overstims the reader until they use the safe word??🩵

Brutal

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Chris has been in one of his moods lately, and when Y/N doesn’t like it….Chris gets a little upset, and takes his anger out on her. This is for this request I got, and another request asking for an angry Chris🫂

Warnings⚠️: This is SMUT!! There’s spit, smacking, use of the word slut, dom Chris, overstimulation, and I think that’s all🤭

Song for the imagine: Bathroom, Hotel-Montell Fish

⚠️This is an 18+ imagine, so minors do not interact, or do??⚠️

I wasn’t too sure what was wrong with Chris lately, but he’s been so aggy and rude, and I had given him some space for a few days, because honestly me and a rude Chris equals me cursing him out and telling him to leave

I hadn’t seen him in three days, and we texted here and there but he was back at the house with his brothers. Nick and Matt created a groupchat with me and not Chris to tell me how fucking annoying and rude he’s been.

I honestly wasn’t shocked. Chris gets like this every few months. He gets all bitchy and annoying, and usually I have to fuck him, so he gets whipped back into shape. But I wasn’t his mommy, and this behavior had to stop

Nick was texting the groupchat about the latest issue between them

-Y/N Chris is so fucking annoying I’m not even sure how you deal with his annoying ass….like I’m about to put his ass out, and change the locks on the door-Nick

-It’s that fucking bad? What’s the issue now???

-He started complaining while we were filming about how the car video was stupid, he was hot, he was annoyed and that Nick and I couldn’t get our shit together-Matt

-The fuck is wrong with this kid?? Is he a fucking child?

-He might as well be. We had to stop filming because he started cursing like crazy, and started to hit us and shit. He fucking knocked me in my mouth and I started to bleed-Nick

-he’s so fuckkkg ridiculous…like I’m getting tired of putting up with this shit….

-Yeah, and then when we went back home, he started going off about the garbage not being done, and the fucking dishes not being done, but like when I told him to do he started flipping the fuck out-Matt

-Where’s he now??

-in his room yapping like an annoying bitch-Nick

-oh brother…let him calm down he’s having a temper tantrum

-yeah..put his ass in time out next time you see him -Matt

-I sure will LMFAOO

An hour had gone by, and I was just at home chilling. I had showered and I was reading a book when I got a text message

-Chris is on his way over to you…he literally flipped out on us again-Matt

-oh brother….time to play mommy with this kid

-LMFAOOOO lord help you idk how you do this-Nick

About thirty minutes later I heard my front door open, so I knew it was Chris

“Babe” he called out

“In my room” I yelled to him

I heard his Timbs hit the ground in thumps, and then suddenly my door busted open

“Yo” he said taking his hat and shoes off at my door

“Yo? Am I your homeboy” I said raising an eyebrow at him

“I’m not in the fucking mood” he said bluntly

“Oh excuse me…you better fix your attitude because I’m not doing this temper tantrum bullshit” I told him shutting my book and placing it on my nightstand

“Listen I’m not in the mood okay. I just want to see my girlfriend and decompress” he said walking over to the bed, taking off his shirt

“Yeah, and you’re not going to come in here with an attitude and bark at me about what you want to do in my HOUSE” I said rolling my eyes at him

“You piss me off sometime” he said looking over his shoulder and scoffing at me

“Well then….the doors right there Christopher” I said to him

“Stop fucking doing that….stop fucking calling me Christopher and talking down to me like I’m some fucking child whenever we get into an argument” He said giving me his back

“Don’t act like a fucking child, and I wouldn’t have to do this” I said to him

“I should fuck the shit out of you right now, so you know your place” he said running his hands through his hair

“Please Chris….we both know I fuck the SHIT out of YOU” I told him staring darts into the back of his head

“I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll won’t even know where you’re at” he said finally turning around and looking at me

“Try me then” I told him

Immediately Chris got up and came over to me looking down at me like I was his prey

He grabbed my neck and immediately my hands grabbed at his hands, and he smashed his lips into mine sloppily making out with me

He pulled away still looking down at me

“Fucking slut” he said and smacked me. I loved when he did that

He roughly grabbed my boobs through my shirt, squeezing them hard

“Can’t wait to fuck you dumb” he said ghosting his lips over mine

He removed his pants and was just down to his underwear’s.

“You’re so hot when you act like this” I said removing my shirt

“Shut up” he said pulling me in by my neck and making out with me, he then roughly pulled me away

“You gonna use that big fucking mouth of yours to suck my cock?” He asked

“Whatever you want” I told him

“Good…I trained you well” he said

He took his underwear’s off, and stood in front of me before once again grabbing me by my neck to bring me up to eye level with him

“Open your mouth” he said, and I obliged

He spat into my mouth and pushed me away

“Fucking suck my dick” he said sternly, and I immediately went to his dick

I started to lick the tip before hallowing my cheeks out

“Fuck yeah…so hot when you’re not barking at me and just sucking my cock” he said immediately putting his hands in my hair to push my head down causing me to gag

“Awww too big?” He said in a mean way

At this point he was just face fucking me. I was gagging and my eyes were watering non stop

“So good to me, but I’m ready to fuck you” he said immediately pulling me off of his dick

He swiftly removed my underwear and flipped me over so I was on all fours

“I love when I get to fuck you like this” he said smacking my ass

“OW ASSHOLE” I yelled at him

This caused him to pull me up by my hair causing me to wince

“Watch the way you fucking talk to me doll face” and then he threw me forward

He smacked my ass again and then massaged the ache away, spreading my legs and spitting on my pussy

“FUCK, CHRIS” I yelled out moaning into the sheets

He slowly rubbed his cock up and down my pussy causing me to whimper, and then suddenly he slammed into me

“CHRISSSSS” I moaned out loudly

This only amped him up because he started to pound into me so fast and hard I couldn’t even think at all

“Taking me so well like a good slut” he said smacking my ass and fucking into me

Chris was gripping my waist so hard while pounding into me non stop, I had never been fucked this hard by Chris and I was loving every second of it

“FUCK FUCK FUCK” I started screaming out as he drilled into me

“Take it slut fucking take it” he said grunting from behind me

Chris attack wasn’t slowing down, and I was drooling all over my sheets….he was literally fucking me dumb

“Is she drooling everywhere….pathetic” he said smacking my ass again

“CHRISTOPHERRRR” I yelled out

He grabbed my arms and started to pound into me, my nails scratching and digging into his arms….he would for sure have marks

“Chris Chris I’m gonna cum” I yelled out, and immediately came all over his cock while moaning like a bitch

“I didn’t say you could cum…just for that you’re giving me two more” he said

“No Chris I can’t” I said whimpering

“YES YOU WILL” he said pulling out of me, and flipping me over to face him

He smacked my cunt and then spat on my pussy again. Causing me to moan out

He immediately slammed into me causing me to shiver because I was so sensitive still

“Youre gonna take it, and you’re gonna take it good” he said slamming into me and coming down to leave sloppy kisses all over my neck

I had my legs wrapped around his waist while he relentlessly pounded into me. I started to grip and scratch at his back

“FUCK CHRIS” he screamed out scratching harder

“Fuck baby keep doing that” he said as he started to kiss my neck and slowly taking one nipple into my mouth

“Oh god” I moaned out throwing my head back

Chris was pounding into me, and then suddenly he brought his hand down to my clit to start rubbing ruthlessly

“FUCK FUCK IM GOING TO CUM” I screamed out gripping onto his hair with my right hand

“Come on baby you still owe me one more” he said as he fucked into me harder

I felt myself clench down on Chris, and suddenly my back was lifting off the bed as I was cumming all over Chris’s cock again

“AHHHH” I started to yell out as my nails scratched harder

“One more” he said still pounding into me

“CHRIS NO NO” I said moaning out

“YES” he said, and continued to pound into me

Causing me to whimper and tears to form in my eyes

“Keep on baby cum on my cock so I can fill you up” he said thrusting into me harder

Chris was pounding into me so hard my mouth fell slack and my eyes shut. He was grunting above me and his sweat started to drip down onto me

“Oh fuck Chris” I said as I felt another orgasm beginning to form

“Come on baby give it to me” he said thrusting into me harder

“FUCK” I screamed out as my legs began to shake and I came all over Chris again. I was seeing flashes of white, and my body was shaking from how hard I just came

Chris soon came into me while moaning out my name with a slack jaw. He was fucking into me still trying to ride out his high

“ROSE ROSE ROSE” I started to scream out our safe word as it was becoming too much for me. He immediately pulled out

“Sorry baby. Are you okay?” He asked coming and laying next to me

“Yes baby…it was too much” I said weakly

“I’m sorry my love” he said running his hands through my hair

“It’s okay…that felt amazing” I said looking at him with lazy half lidded eyes

After Chris had fucked the shit out of me he had to help me to the bathroom, and we showered together, and went to lay back in my bed

“I’m sorry for being such a dick” he said stroking my hair

“It’s okay baby. You just gotta talk about your feelings more” I said kissing him on the cheek

“I’m trying, I will do better” he said kissing my forehead

“I love you, and know that I’m always here to talk to you” I told him

“I love you too baby, and yes I know that, so from now on I’ll come to you, so I’m no longer in these weird funks” he said to me

That night we fell asleep in each others arms, and the next day Nick had asked me to come over so we could have a pool day, so Chris and I got ready and headed back over to his house

When we got to the house Nick and Matt were already sitting in the pool chairs getting ready to get in the water at any moment

“Heyy guys” I said as Chris and I walked over to them

“Hey Y/N…..how’s the baby?” Matt asked laughing at Chris

“He’s better now” I said looking over at Chris and pinching his cheeks

“Fuck off” he said laughing and pulling away

We had all been sitting around for 20 minutes before deciding to get in the water

Chris removed his shirt, and when he turned around to jump into the water my mouth dropped

The scratches….he had scratches all over his back and arms

“No wonder he’s in a good mood” Nick said looking over at me

“Oh my god” I said starting to giggle

“The fuck ya talking about” Chris asked turning around

“Your back looks like you got into a fight with an animal” Matt said

“No wonder my back was burning” he said rubbing his chin

“Yall make me sick” Nick said

“Sorry I was fucking the shit out of her last night that would explain the good behavior on my part today” Chris said smiling at them

“CHRISTOPHER” I yelled, and then pushed him into the water

When he came to the surface he reached up and pulled me in by my arm. That day we spent the whole day in the pool, laughing, chatting and just have a good time

I kind of want Chris to get in those moods more often….loved the way he treated me yesterday

The End

Alright here’s some Chris smut for yall! Hope you enjoyed and I hope the people who requested this liked it🖤🖤 thank you all for 365 followers . This is insane like a week ago I had 60 followers??🥹🥰

-J💅🏽

[goldustwomun]

pacifier (s.b.)

pairing: sirius black x younger potter! reader

summary: something about your relationship with sirius black had never sit quite right with you, and now that he's back after two years of travelling the world, you're beginning to think that you'll soon find out what'll happens if the two of you finally fall over the edge of whatever precipice you've been teetering close to all these years. anyway, you've got to work with him all summer, so what's the worst that could happen?

warnings: allusions to sex (minors dni!!!), swearing, cocky sirius and like kind of an annoying younger sister reader (but also that's literally me lol), bad transitions between light hearted banter and angst but i'm trying my best RIP, i imagine sirius to be mid-20s and reader only 3/4 years younger (but everyone is OF AGE), mommy issues if you squint

wc: 4.9k+

note: soooo i'm back :D again :D i'm almost done with second year and actually somewhat ahead with all my papers (with very minimal finals; def recommend being a history major x) and i've just been missing the community so enjoy this! i had this first chapter posted a while back (like maybe a year) but it was actually ass so i've redone it a little :)))) as always, reblogs and comments are MUCH appreciated and i can't wait to interact w/ y'all over this because i have been DAYDREAMING about brother's bf sirius :')

Oh but, babe, you know I've tried and failed But you just don't know how it feels To lose something you never have and never will

“What do you mean he’s working at the shop as well?!” you all but screeched, chasing your Mother around the kitchen, feeling a lot like the pesky youngest child you were. 

“He needs some help so we offered to give him a job. Honestly sweetheart, aren’t you too old for this childish feud?”

“Too old? Shouldn’t you be saying that to him? He’s like– thirty or something, and still continues to be the bane of my existence. Fucking Bla–”

Your Mother whirled on you abruptly, brandishing the wooden spoon she was about to stir the boiling pot with right in your face.

“Oi, language! I would tell him the same but unluckily for you, you’re my daughter and currently living under my roof, so you get to hear it first.” She gave you a saccharine sweet smile, the kind that had you biting back the urge to roll your eyes.

“--now, he’s been gone for such a long time, and we’re all very excited to see him, so don’t ruin this reunion with any more of your tantrums.”

You opened your mouth once more, intent on not letting the argument die there, but your Father bounded into the kitchen at the same moment, ruffling up your hair with a “Hey there, kiddo,” before promptly moving on to snake his hands around your Mother’s waist.

“Looking as beautiful as always, my dear,” he cooed into her ear. She let out an uncharacteristic giggle that had you bolting from the kitchen before you were scarred any further.

Your parents’ tooth-aching affections for each other was just that: sweet, but sickly all the same.

Somewhere inside of you, in between the urge for unattainable perfection and the fear of failure, you yearned for a love like theirs. Something genuine but passionate, able to withstand the test of time.

James, your older brother, had found it with Lily, and their son Harry being a product of their young but no less intense love. 

You loved that kid like he was your own. Would beg James to let you come over, play with the babbling toddler for a few hours, even going as far as to offer up your weekends, encouraging the young couple to “go out, live a little!”. But they were about as infatuated with their own child as you were, and had a never-ending supply of friends who were equally as eager to help out.

And one of those always eager friends was currently pounding his stupid fist against your stupid front door, and you were already riled up from the news your mother had broken to you only moments earlier, head pounding and fists balled into shaking fists, that you couldn’t take seeing his face quite literally in front of you, as well. 

You shoved past James, knocking him back a step as his hand reached for the door to let his best mate in. You caught a glimpse of him on the doorstep, the first in almost two years– hair unruly like he’d just rolled out of bed, long, black strands; newly tanned skin blushing under the heat of the sun; those thick, brooding eyebrows that raised up in your direction – eughh. 

“What’s got your knickers in a bunch?” James called at your retreating figure, shouting loud enough to be heard over your heavy footsteps despite the carpeted floor. 

“Ask your best mate over there!” you answered back with a bite, slamming your room door shut.

“Fuck,” he sighed, defeated, yanking his confused friend in and a chucking a thumb towards the stairs. “How’ve you managed to piss her off before you even got here?” he asked incredulously. “Peace– we had peace in this house for the past two years since you’ve been off, and now look–! It’s a bloody riot!”

“Oi– I’ve done nothing,” he moaned indignantly, hanging his coat and scarf on the gold-crested hooks by the door. “--I think,” he added for good measure after a beat. "I mean, I've only just stepped inside."

Sirius had yet to quite grasp why you got under his skin so quick, squirming between his nerves like a misfired electrical impulse.

You’d grown up together, spent every waking moment in each other’s presence when he was at the Potter residence (which happened to be just about always given his own family situation). If books and movies were to be trusted, what with fiction being so reminiscent of real-life, he'd have expected be like some sort of brotherly figure to you.

But even the thought of it had bile creeping up his through, as if it was so unfathomably wrong his body refused to entertain the possibility of it.

So no. Something about you and your irritatingly know-it-all personality, shrill when indignant voice (which was rather often around him), your need to always be right – something about you brought the worse out of him.

Had him constantly searching for something new to point out, to irritate you all over again, hit the nail on your specific head - something to really push you that little bit over the edge. 

It wasn't even like he enjoyed it, watching you get all huffy, nostrils flared, brows knitted together, face verging on a flushed red. Sirisu was well aware that with every jab the two of you threw at each other, things got a little more out of hand.

Right before he had left, two years journeying through the glades of Scotland, then France, Greece, Türkiye, India, Taiwan (he'd been close to everywhere), he had made the mistake of aiming a particularly ruthless dig at you, and watching your face crumple, devastated and defeated, it had finally cracked him inside.

But there wasn't anything he could do about it then, what with leaving the next day, and two years later, it seemed a little too late.

The rest of the Potter family didn’t share your sentiments about Sirius, and rather adored him immeasurably. Had since he’d taken to hiding out in their house after a particularly brutal fight at home when he was only eleven. Heck, he’d even attended every Potter-family gathering, dinner, birthday, you name it, since then. It was why he came over every Sunday for a roast, pudding and some chat – he could never put into words what your family had done for him, the safety, security, home, even, they'd given him when he’d been lost and entirely clueless of what a real family looked like.

So he made the thirty-minute drive, every Sunday, much to your irritation. He plastered on the biggest smile for your Mum, complimenting every minute detail of the meal she cooked for the family, drank a glass of whiskey and smoked a cigar with your Dad; he was even Harry’s favourite, always humming quiet melodies into the youngest Potter’s ear.

With him away, he’d missed out on the family time he usually looked forward to every weekend. Mondays seemed a lot less dreadful after having a belly-full of Mrs Potter’s food.

Still, he’d sent postcards and printed pictures of everywhere he went, the sights he’d seen, people he’d met. It wasn’t the same, not without the lot of you to pester him but he’d needed some time to find himself.

He still wasn’t sure if he’d found what he was looking for, but the money had to have run out eventually so he was back home, ready to work and settle down in his life for once after graduating Hogwarts. 

Sirius followed James into the living room where he found Lily, sipping on a glass of red, sitting by the empty fireplace. Instead, a window had been cracked in to let the temperate wind in.

She perked up as they entered, waving with that soul-wrenching smile of hers that could persuade even the most strong-willed of men into submission. 

“Pads, you’re back!” she called from her seat. "And you've grown a moustache-- interesting choice of facial hair." Sirius, however, raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, ignoring her greeting-slash-judgement as he peered into the empty crib by her side, even going as far as to search under it as if the toddler might have escaped.

“Harry’s gone to bed in the guest room. There was a bit of a shouting match before you arrived,” James explained, sinking into the space beside his wife and pulling her into his side. “Actually, now that I think about it, there was a lot of shouting after you arrived as well.” 

Lily snorted, snuggling into her husband without hesitation, and Sirius couldn’t help but avert his eyes, feeling entirely like he was imposing on an intimate moment as the two of them whispered in the other’s ear.

“Well, don’t mind me. Sitting here, all by my lonesome, no company or polite chatter to partake in, not even my dashing God son to entertain me” he sighed, dramatically, to no one in particular. James rolled his eyes at his best friend’s antics, chucking a frilly throw-pillow at his face (that’s what they’re for, right?) which he just as easily caught. 

“Har-Har! Ever the clown, Paddy,” James mocked, flipping him off just in time for his Mum to walk in and see.

“James! Don’t aim such crude displays at my son,” she scolded, wrapping her wrinkled arms around Sirius’ shoulders from behind his chair. She leaned down, kissing the top of his head affectionately. Sirius only whimpered in agreement, leaning into her motherly touch and whining on and on about how James was being a right bully. 

“My sweet child, I’ve missed you!” She beamed down at him, and that longing Sirius sometimes felt for his own Mother’s approval, her devotion or fondness, it lessened. 

“But you didn’t– He was just!-- You missed– arghh!” James groaned defeatedly, head flailed back to rest against the sofa, receiving no sympathies from his giggling wife and glaring Mother. “I’m starting to understand why she hates you.”

Sirius’ eyes flashed at that– did you really hate him? Had it gotten to that point?

At the mention of your name but current absence, Mrs Potter ordered, “Go call your sister for dinner, I’ve set the table.” 

He began to protest, failing to come up with a half-decent reason why he can’t walk up the two flights of stairs and pull your petulant frame from your bed– but Sirius interrupted in time, before James could make any more of a fool himself in front of his own Mother.

“I’ll go get her. Got to figure out what I did this time,” he offered coolly. 

Euphemia, that is, Mrs Potter, had a strict no-apparting rule in her house, had lost too many expensive vases from James and Sirius’ apparition-sprees the second they’d turned seventeen.

You already had your licence, having been of legal age for some time, and had, since graduating (top of the class, as you tended to point out, much to your Ravenclaw friends’ dismay) from Hogwarts, found a job at a school in the muggle world, teaching children English Literature in preparation of some exam -- O Levels, you’d called them. 

Sirius thought it to be some sort of torture device - these O Levels – but you’d smacked him across the head in admonishment with whatever book was in your hand before he could say much else. Having a family-run bookshop made it so that the books, or the weapons (in Sirius' mind at least), were in endless supply for you.

Your love for reading had come from him, your Father, from when he’d stay up till the late hours of the night, hushed whispers under your bed sheet so your Mother wouldn’t hear, as he read you the Classics in animated voices that had you completely enchanted. He made sparks fly from the tip of his wand, bright colours that your little eyes couldn’t quite get enough of.

You loved being a wizard, were eternally grateful for the world you lived in and the undeniable awe of it all. But words, books, literature – they were enough magic for you, took you to places you could only ever dream to visit, and had you feeling such all-consuming emotions that sometimes, you wondered if you’d ever make it to the end of the page, or chapter, or book. 

“Oi– your Mum’s put out dinner, she’s calling you downstairs,” he called through the thick wood of your door. 

Sirius didn’t know why he such an uneasy feeling settled into the pit of his stomach, like he'd swallowed some moldy bread or a particularly strong cider.

He's known you your whole life, watched you graduate from pencil to quill, and then again from Hogwarts.

Two years was a long a time, and the thought of you holding what he had said all those months ago -- what he hadn't meant, not really -- he was dreading the confrontation.

He nudged the door open when you didn’t respond, only to find you slumped across your bed, glaring, silently, at the ceiling and the pale-orange ring of light from the lamp on your bedside table.

You certainly looked different– older, possibly? He couldn’t quite place what had changed, only that he knew something had. In the way you dressed, styled your hair, held yourself. Even the look of your room– no longer plastered in repeated patterns of owls and roses, but instead a single wall painted a burnt umber and with the remaining covered in tapestries and muggle band posters hanging across every wall.

A stack of vinyls were shoved into one side of your room, along with stacks of books, some old and missing a few pages, while others were untouched. 

You heard the door click open, sitting up on your elbows to see a Sirius, oozing an annoying amount of effortless confidence, and leaning against your doorframe. 

Something in your chest stumbled almost immediately. He looked the same as the day he'd scolded you before leaving, and those stupid, brown eyes of his, like murky swamps you wouldn't be caught dead looking into, were training on you.

Though, he might’ve managed to actually tan, now that you really looked at him, imagining the broad planes of his shoulders, hidden by a thin linen button up, were more sun-kissed than milky-pale now. 

Except you refused to even entertain the thought. You were not thinking of him or his skin or his bare chest or--

“What’s with your face?” you asked, already knowing you'd regret the answer.

“Was that meant to be a greeting?” His eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Hi Sirius-- what’s with your face?” you answered, again, between clenched teeth. 

“You changed your room,” was his only response, and really, what did he expect to say to that?

"I did. Figured I'd use your absence wisely," you snarked back, meeting his gaze as you continued, "--you know, finally grow up and all that."

And you hadn't forgotten, but he didn't blame you.

You got up at his lack of silence, walking the few steps up to him, head tilted like a cat, wary of her surroundings but curious nonetheless.

"Was there something you wanted, Sirius?"

And fuck if the way you said his name didn't have him fighting whatever foreign feeling, urge, instinct was shouting at him in that moment.

You walked past, trembling as your shoulders touched, making it all the way to the bottom of the stairs before you had your moment of revelation as well.

Somehow, whether it had been a slow process over his two-year absence or something far more sudden in the past few minutes, he'd wormed his way back between the cracks of your heart, and this time, you worried you wouldn't survive.

The quiet jingle of the bell tickled your ears as you opened the door to the bookshop, dust immediately invading your senses as you fought back a harsh cough.

Your Dad pushed in front of you, forcing the door to stay open by propping a stack of intimidatingly large books in front of it. You laughed silently to yourself, noting how they were all Dickens (he hated Dickens, said his novels were disturbingly boring and unnecessarily detailed). 

“So, you can dust a little, and sweep the floor, before we open. Count the money in the till, as well, that’s very important,” he noted off, and you suddenly wished you had a pen and a pad of paper to write it all down.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t been helping out at the shop since when you were younger, but this was the first time you’d been granted the responsibility of having it all to yourself (minus the inconvenience that was Sirius Black). 

You were deemed an adult now – loved to point it out any chance you got, and that meant that your Dad trusted you enough to not hover over your shoulder every time you took a shift. He was working fewer hours, though now, none, as he wanted to finish the novel he’d been writing for the past decade after melodramatically announcing at the dinner table that “It’s time!” 

You weren’t sure what that exactly meant, but you weren’t about to argue with the man paying you an overly generous ten pounds an hour. 

You didn’t need the money for yourself, what with still living at your parent’s house, but you wanted to contribute to the house and expenses and what not, even if it was a minuscule sum. 

“Another thing,” he added, stopping, rather abruptly, in front of you, voice worryingly grave as he placed his large palms over either of your shoulders. “Please,” he begged, brows dipping, “don’t fight with Sirius in front of the customers.”

“I haven’t even done anything and you’re already after me,” you objected, pulling back from his usually comforting hold and pulling the broom out from behind the counter. His hands fell defeatedly against his sides as he sighed, standing in your way before you could mope yourself into a tizzy before the work day had even started. 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he ensured, pulling you into his tight embrace once more. “You know you’re my number one, sweetheart. Just don’t like seeing you so upset.”

James always teased you for being your Father’s favourite, and you’d never argue, relishing in his pointed fingers and sneering words, because it was true– there was something between you and your Father, an understanding that no one else had clued in on.

He eased your worries like no one else could, smoothed irked creases across your face, replacing them with belly-hurting laughter lines and a grin so wide, you were worried it would fall off your face.

Anyway, James was the same with your Mum. You found her difficult to communicate with, what with her being as hot-heated as you were, so as much as you and your Dad got along, you butted heads with your Mum just as much.

“It’s ‘cause you two are so similar, like twins, I tell you!” But it did little to calm your nerves around her, or stoke the flames of anger you so often felt. 

You were about to respond, ready to tell your Dad just how much you loved him, when someone crashed through the door, slamming into the counter you were standing behind. You turned, eyes connecting with your (late) colleague. He looked utterly windswept, as if he’d run – or been chased – the whole way there. 

“You okay, son?” your Dad asked, worry shifting from you to the panting, bent-over Sirius. 

“Me? Oh– peachy, just– peachy,” he answered between heavy breaths, waving off his doting hands. “Sorry I’m late, got a little carried away with something and lost track of time.”

You were conscious of how your Dad didn’t offer Sirius the same advice, to not pick a fight or argue or whatever it was the two of you did, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how he had everyone charmed.

So you busied yourself behind the till, doing as you were instructed and counting the money, writing down the number of each of the bills on a notepad you pulled from the drawer at your waist. 

Your Dad left soon after, turning the closed sign out front to open as he wished you, and Sirius, good luck. 

“Guess it’s just the two of us, little Potter,” Sirius pointed out, already sounding bored as he fell into a stool at your side. He leaned his head against his arm, stretching it from side to side as he groaned at his tense muscles.

You didn’t mean to stare, swore it wasn’t something you’d let become a habit, but your gaze immediately travelled to the exposed skin of his neck, zeroing in on the trail of newly-formed purple bruises  down the side.

You snorted, shaking your head at him, slamming the money compartment shut a little too aggressively so that it caught Sirius’ attention. He recognised your expression to be something close to amusement, jabbing you in your side until you were scowling and slapping his fingers away.

“What’s wrong with you– you’re acting like a fucking child,” you admonished, moving out of reach and resting a hand on your hip. 

“Why’d you make that face?” he asked instead of answering your question, nodding at you like it was you who had started it.

“It’s nothing,” you went with, hearing your Father’s words echoing in your mind from just moments ago. You needed to diffuse the situation before you really got mad, because past that point, you weren’t responsible for what you said– or did. 

So you ventured into the aisles of books, a curious Sirius on your heels, following you like a lost, yapping puppy. “If it’s nothing then why are you running away?” he pushed back.

You ignored him pointedly, stopping to stack a few books and dust along the shelves. No one had come in yet, still too early in the morning for any tourists to stumble upon your admittedly quaint but bursting shop. 

The sunlight barely filtered past the dense collection of books and mahogany shelves that lined the walls, but the windows stretched to the tall ceilings, and if you went up the spiralling staircase at the centre of the store, you’d find yourself in a cosy loft space, bathed in gold and stuffed with arm chairs and sofas for people to sit and read in. 

It was your favourite part of the store, and you were seriously debating hiding up there on your first day, just to get away from the walking-plague that followed you. 

“Come on– tell me,” he whined, standing too close for your liking. You side-stepped away, brushing a cloth against the worn covers of the Mystery section. He followed suit, returning to his previous position, and this time, you had no way out with the wall of books you’d met. 

You turned, facing him and finally acknowledged his presence. “You lied,” you stated matter-of-factly, loving that you actually had the upper-hand with him. As much as you prided yourself with being quick-witted, Sirius always seemed to find a way to stay on-top.

“Gonna have to give me something more than that, darling. Lied about what?” he countered, raising an eyebrow at you. 

You bristled at the endermeant but continued nonetheless.,

“You weren't busy. You were screwing some girl according to the bruises on your neck,” you stared pointedly at the affected area now, though it was covered by his hair in this position. His hand flew to his neck, as if hoping to shield them from your gaze.

“That’s none of your business Potter,” he countered, irritated. 

“It actually is my business when you’re both late to your job and lying to my Father,” you threw back, shoving forward and relishing in his slight stumble back– as if he hadn’t yet noticed the two of you were so so close. 

“You can’t–” his eyes were wide, worried, as he grabbed your elbow, forcing you to meet his gaze, “You can’t tell him. He’ll be so disappointed and I can’t–”

You frowned at the look of genuine distress written so plainly across of his face. If you two were anyone else, you might've let it go.

Might've--

“Well tough shit, Sirius. You’re an adult, now. This is the real world we’re talking about and not whatever fantasy you've been frolicking about these past two years." You were fuming, unnecessarily so, but both of you knew this was fight had been years in the making.

"I understand you lack the ability to form real, genuine connections but come on, Sirius. You're not a fucking teenager. Grow a pair and take some responsibility for once in your life!"

And really, you deserved it, now that you thought back. His anger was reasonable but your need to poke straight through his ribcage, wrap your fist around his heart and squeeze tight, was not. 

“Fuck you, Potter.” he bit out. “Just because you're not getting any doesn't mean the rest of us have to be equally as miserable."

It was already going to shit, Sirius was well aware of it, but he couldn't get himself to stop. To just shut up.

“Maybe if you weren’t so fucking uptight all the time someone might actually give it to you too," his voice now barely above a whisper with his anger deflated as he stared, pained, at your reaction.

And it didn’t take long for you to react -- for your hand to fly up and connect with his cheek, hard. You hadn't done anything two years ago but he thinks he saw you consider it. So the fact that you had finally, struck across the face, spoke to how different things really were. How different you were.

"Potter, I--" and he was speechless when he really shouldn't have been. He swallowed, trying again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered then, fighting the urge to look away from your glassy stare. “I’m sorry, Potter. You know I don’t mean it.”

What you hated most was that you did know. You knew you both brought out the worst in each other. Only, you could never figure out why that was. Why you wanted to hurl insults at him for every comment or look or the stupid way he’d string together the most perfect sentence and his irritating eyes and mouth and–

“Excuse me? Is anyone here?” 

You inhaled, all sudden, as if only just realising what you had done. You brushed past him without a word, needing, more than ever, to put some space between the two of you. If not for your anger then for whatever pesky emotion was seeping through your cracks.

You were (reluctantly) pulled from wherever your thoughts had been racing to as you called into the store, “Just one moment!”

Sirius debated if this was a sign for him to get back onto a train to anywhere you were not. It didn’t matter if he had no money or nowhere to be, but if it meant he could avoid maiming you with his words, he couldn’t quite see a way out of his predicament. 

“Sirius!” you shouted again, no longer faking your emotions but rather genuinely just exasperated by him once more. 

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” He managed to not get lost in the labyrinth of books, and found you by the travel section, chatting good-naturedly with a blonde in a tight dress.

“How can I help, doll?” he asked the blonde in question. His one tactic for almost every conundrum he’d ended up in was avoidance. And bloody hell was he good at it. 

He smiled at her, the customer, doing little to hide his admiration for the legs she had on display. She flushed a pretty pink, averting her gaze, lip between her teeth. Bingo! 

“Christ, you’re disgusting,” you muttered, mouth pouting and quiet enough that only he could hear.

“Only for you, sweetheart, only for you,” he bit back, not wanting the currently oblivious customer clue in on their conversation. “So, how can I help?”

“She needs that book–” you pointed to the top shelf, well out of reach. “--the green spine that says Amsterdam, but I can’t reach it and the step ladder is too heavy.”

“Alas! Only ever needed for my body, it seems,” he moaned with an irritating amount of flourish. 

“Whatever it takes to get the book down– do what you must, Black.” You patted his chest reassuringly, taking your spot, once again, behind the cash register.  

“So– planning a trip are you?” Sirius asked in between excessive displays of strength as he hauled the bulky ladder with a single hand. You glared at the girl as she swooned at him, wanting, rather unreasonably, for her to combust right where she stood.

But that was a ridiculous thought to begin with. You could barely stand to be even within a metre’s distance of the guy, let alone on the receiving end of his affections. You were tired, emotional and dehydrated. Must be. Though a glance at the clock had you realising it had barely been an hour since your day had started. 

So, maybe just emotional and dehydrated. 

“I’m going to get a coffee from across the street,” you announced, slugging your tote bag onto your shoulder as you walked past the preoccupied pair. Not waiting for a response, you stepped out into the early morning sun, frowning, for once, at the glare in your eyes and not the irritant you’d left behind. 

It was easier to refer to him as something pesky, infectious, fungus-like even, rather than the only person who knew how to break your heart (and despite your somewhat impenetrable facade, you let him do just that every time).

please please PLEASE reblog & leave some feedback <3 i'll boop you if you do x

[demonslayerunhinged]

Unhinged rant >:(

Demon Slayer fandom discourse

I want to start this by saying, I know that Demon Slayer isn't an explicitly queer manga/anime because Shōnen Jump, but I believe that Demon Slayer is for the queers and has lots of themes that we can identify with like love, acceptance, loss, guilt and strength.

Despite what these stupid, smelly, ignorant, power-scaling, non-ass-washing, Cheetos-dust-snorting, once-a-month-showering, dude-bros would have you believe, Demon Slayer isn't just another battle Shōnen anime/manga, it's a love story and about the perseverance of the human spirit and if that doesn't speak to the queer experience then I don't know what does.

Plus, I don't know how Gotogue-sensei is as a person, but I think the fact that she managed to make one of the kindest mcs in shōnen speaks volumes about her disposition. I don't think she would be one to reject queer fans identifying with her story so well.

In these recent times, it seems like everything is going to shit, the world is slowly regressing into the dark ages destroying decades of progress and trying to distract ourselves from all this by engaging with the fandoms we love is hard because everything seems to cater to cis, straight, white men.

To be honest, I created this blog mostly out of spite, but I also wanted to carve out a tiny space for myself where I can talk out of my ass and not have some decrepit reddit dude bro go all 'well, ackshually ☝🤓' on me, and I'm happy to have met so many like-minded people.

So, I've compiled a list of answers to the common types of nonsense drivel these fuckers post in response to shipping and queer discussions and theories about Demon Slayer. You can copy and paste whenever and wherever you encounter these black holes of ignorance and stupidity if you want.

In the Taisho era, there were no gay/queer people: This is one of the dumbest statements I've ever heard, and the fact that it's a really common response really shows how we've failed as a society. Queer people have existed for ages all over the world, Japan has an extensive queer history. Demon Slayer is based on samurai culture and samurai culture was really, really, really, really, really, really, really gay. Sure, it had rigid roles, but that doesn't make it any less queer. A quick Google search would go a long way to nourish that dried-out, shrivelled husk you call a brain. Go read a book you walking condom ad, your parents and education system have obviously failed you.

It's forcing sexuality into the story: We literally had a whole season dedicated to the mcs going to the 'entertainment district', we have a sexy man with three wives who talks about 'loving' them all equally, we have the abundant male fanservice, one of the mcs talks about women on the daily, we have a boy who eats demons and is horny shy around girls all the time, we have his brother who exposes his tits because he's proud of them, we have a demon who was essentially a sexual predator that targeted 16-year-old girls and ate them, the main villain shape-shifts into a woman to 'get' information as a Geisha, we have a girl who literally lusts after almost everyone she meets but yea no lets not force sexuality into it 🙄.

I don't care: Okay cool, but I value your opinion as much as I value the shit I took this morning.

It's who they are as a character that matters: Sexuality is a part of a person's character. Your sexuality defines your experiences, decisions, options and outlook on life. That's why you as a straight man can be so ignorant.

It's forced*(I really hate this one): Honestly, fuck you. Why is it that you only think something is forced when it doesn't revolve around you and your experiences? You guys are fine with tons of anime/manga that sexualize women and girls to an insane degree even when it doesn't make sense, but that doesn't stop you from consuming and glazing the hell out of the authors, but when we talk about including queer characters suddenly it's forced? Your existence is forced, and you can just eat shit.

I don't like it: Who the fuck do you think you are dictating how other people consume and interpret the media they consume? How about you go hump your smelly, cum-encrusted anime body pillow.

Men can be touchy/emotional with each other without it being gay, it's just our western standards: No it isn't the majority of shipping activities and works come from Japan, which wouldn't happen if it was just part of their culture. We're not stupid, we know men and boys can be friends without it being sexual, and we know when a friendship is just that, and then we know when two guys are straight up pining for one another.

It's not canon/the mangaka didn't explicitly state it: They can't because of Shōnen Jump, so a lot of them pass off information about a character through subtext, metaphors and allegories. They also don't have to, things don't have to outright stated or 'canon' for them to make sense and if you need them to be so for you to understand or enjoy the story then a moment of silence for your head since it's without a brain.

It's not common: Despite Shōnen Jump, there are lots of mainstream anime/manga that have queer characters: One Punch Man, Hunter x Hunter, Dr. Stone, Windbreaker, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, Naruto, Gintama, Dragon Ball Z, My Hero Academia, Fairy Tail, One Piece, Attack on Titan, Tokyo Ghoul, Jujutsu Kaisen, Chainsaw Man, Blue Period and that's not to talk of the ones with queer subtext like I dunno ALL Sports anime/manga to ever exist!

Why do you look for LGBTQ in everything?: It might be hard for straights to understand but growing up queer and looking for a connection causes us to develop what we call a gaydar that helps us identify characteristics, mannerisms, features and vibes from a person that screams 'ONE OF US! ONE OF US!'. It's only natural, and our gaydar doesn't suddenly turn off when we're consuming media, especially when it's media that we love and hold dear to our hearts. It doesn't matter if the mangaka inserted these characteristics intentionally or not, that doesn't stop us from picking up on them, and why should it?

Shipping is stupid: So is power-scaling, but that doesn't stop you assholes from making thousands of posts, creating YouTube channels and sharing content about it and cramming it down our throats. It's even worse because it's from grown-ass men.

The characters have no chemistry/they hate each other: A lot of queer ships have more chemistry, history, interactions, personality and development than a lot of 'canon' straight couples. It's literally a trope in media that all a man and a woman need to be in a relationship is to be in close proximity to each other, then their relationship goes on to be drier than salted crackers in silicone packets scattered in the Sahara desert. Well, I guess you can't blame the creators, you write what you know after all.

I know this is a lot and I know how angry I sound right now, but I'm so sick and so tired of all these guys who are as useful to the human race as pieces of freshly shat out dog turds that have been thrown in the grass by the sidewalk in a hot summer afternoon, who can't see past their lice-infested neck beards trying to make something as colorful, interesting, joyful and queer as anime and the fandoms fit their own boring, stupid and misogynistic worldview.

In Conclusion, Demon Slayer is amazing, horny* and unbelievably queer.

*I'm talking about the male fanservice btw :)

[mindofharry]

Nothing Matters | matt sturniolo

in which Y/N and Matt are best friends and he wants to try something new.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Y/N and Matt had been friends for years.

You never saw Y/N without Matt and vice versa. Everyone knew they were a package deal, if you wanted one, you’d get both. Most people in school thought they were together, because they were both equally possessive over each other. But no, nothing sexual had ever happened between them. Sure, there had been times when Matt wanted to take Y/N then and there, but he never acted on it.

Not until now.

It was a normal day for them. Y/N got home from college and went straight to Matt’s. She plopped down on his bed, like it was her own, while Matt was in the kitchen with his brothers filming a video for their youtube channel. She wasn’t wearing anything special, a tube top and leggings. But the outfit fit her in all the right places. When Matt walked into his room all he could stare at was her plump ass, just waiting to be spanked by him.

“You know, you’re starting to creep me out,” Y/N hummed, turning over onto her back. Matt felt his cock grow through his shorts, as her perky tits bounced.

“Har Har,” Matt teased, throwing his phone onto his desk and walking over to the side of the bed.

“Honestly, why are you looking at me like that?” Y/N questioned, leaning on her elbow. Matt shrugged, finding it hard to give her an answer because all he could think about was her tits moving as he ploughed into her from behind.

Y/N cleared her throat and sat up.

She wasn’t stupid. She could see the outline of his cock, strained against his shorts.

“Do you need help with that?” Y/N asked, her eyes wide with anything but innocence.

Matt groaned and threw his head back.

“This is not happening,”

Y/N shrugged, “What if it is?” She questioned, getting up onto her knees and placing her hands on his broad shoulders. His breath hitched.

“Do you want me?” She asked, her warm breath against his cheek.

“Do you want to feel my pussy, Matt?”

Matt groaned and placed his lips on hers, momentarily surprising her, but she quickly collected herself opening her mouth to let his tongue explore hers. A moan left her mouth, but Matt swallowed it, placing his hands on her ass. He slapped it and loved the sound it made.

Y/N sucked his bottom lip, nearly drawing blood.

“Take these off,” Matt ordered, tugging at her leggings. Y/N was more than willing to comply. She toed off her socks and then came her leggings, leaving her in a pink thong.

“Fuck,” Matt murmured, squeezing her ass cheeks.

“Let me make you feel good?” Y/N asked, her fingers dancing around the top of shorts. Matt nodded and helped Y/N drag his shorts down. His cock popped out, red and full of pre cum.

“You’re so big,” She whispered, her small hand wrapping around his huge length. Matt bit his lip, holding back a groan as Y/N admired his cock. She squeezed it and began to pump his length, still admiring how beautiful it was.

She swept her thumb over the tip of his cock and Matt placed a hand on her head.

“Suck,”

Y/N did what she was told, swallowing the tip of his cock.

“Just like that,” Matt moaned, thrusting into her mouth. Y/N could feel him at the back of her throat as she guided more of his cock into her mouth.

He pulled her hair, making his cock pop out of her mouth. She whimpered, looking up at her best friend.

“Wanna taste you,” Matt said, pushing her down on to the bed. Y/N opened her legs for him and watched him as he peeled her drenched thong down her legs.

“Beautiful,” He murmured, kissing up her thigh.

Matt reached her clit.

“Please, Matty,” She begged.

He smirked and flicked his tongue over her clit, Y/N bit her lip so hard trying to contain the moans. But it was too much.

He continued his assault on her clit, wrapping his mouth around it. With one hard suck, Y/N could already feel her orgasm coming.

“Never, ever stop,”

“Don’t plan to,”

[ladyloveandjustice]

So the reason I was rewatching ATLA in the thros of my sickness was because I watched Big Joel's breakdown of the live action series and areas where it failed and didn't make sense and it made me want to rewatch the cartoon again.

I went ahead and watched the Big Joel video because I figured I wasn't going to watch the rest of the live action series at this point--(it's fun to yell at it with friends but also it's probably better to take those opportunities to watch something we actually like. 3 episodes is enough of a chance, and the only scene I liked out of that was the stupid little fight where Aang threw plates at Zuko)....and man, now I'm definitely not going to watch the series.

There really did just drain away Katara's entire personality and her agency. I honestly don't understand why adaptations are so afraid of letting her be the angry, stubborn, opinionated person she is in the show. I mean I know why, sexism. It's like writers cannot fathom a girl being nurturing and kind while also having a hot temper and being passionate and outspoken. She's not a hard character to get! But they cannot hold those two concepts in their brain at the same time! It's really sad!

But there are two points that really get me

--they...they seriously have Aang agree with Paaku's sexism towards Katara. When she tells him about it he's like "well maybe you shouldn't fight" It's apparently there for in plot reasons like blabla the spirit just told him the avatar should work alone and he's scared his friends will get hurt but I don't care. no. I don't want to see Aang being a tool like that. I don''t think in the original series there's actually any situation where he'd diminish her ability to fight or side with the systemic oppression of women, and there definitely isn't any situation where Katara would silently take it lying down. She'd have kicked Aangs ass (verbally) (perhaps accidentally physically considering what her waterbending does when she's angry) and honestly, I think her trust towards him would have broken so badly it would have been really hard to repair. But that didn't happen, because like Joel said, Aang isn't a dweeb and he respects Katara, and Katara is his equal who wouldn't take that shit.

--They have Iroh excuse his actions at Ba Sing Se (to a guy who's brother was murdered in the battle) with "it was war, we were soldiers". This is played straight, like Iroh is in the right, not as a character flaw to be explored- we're supposed to think Iroh is right to say that. Like he wasn't the GENERAL of the army trying to invade and colonize a city? It wasn't war, it was violent imperialism and people defending their home. How the hell do you misunderstand that. The original show never had Iroh make excuses. The original show wasn't afraid to demonstrate Iroh was a pretty monstrous person when he was leading the invasion- his casual joke about burning Ba Sing Se to the ground in that flashback is so jarring coming from Iroh, supposed to make us see how even he was unbelievably cruel at one point, even he was part of the system of imperialism, but it took his son's death for him to change. And he did change, he started questioning and working against the system he once upheld, and dedicate himself to taking care of Zuko.

But he was a war criminal, and he knows that! I think that's in part why he wanted Zuko to take the throne, he knows someone who did what he did shouldn't be in charge. I think the Iroh we know in the show would have understood if someone who's family member died in that battle was angry at him for starting it. I think he's equally angry at himself, holds himself responsible for his son's death in a battle he commanded and could have refused to fight, and that his son's death is what made him realize what he was inflicting on others.

It's such a stupid decision and shows the writer doesn't have a single thought in their head about imperialism or Iroh's character, that they don't even understand it. incredible.

So yeah, those things alone are enough to not make me want to watch this show. The thing with Iroh shows a disdain for the core themes of the show, and Katara and Aang being stripped of what made them good characters, but even just active characters....nah not for me. I will continue watching reaction videos and breakdowns though, love that stuff.

[missmarveledsblog]

MISS MARVELLED'S MASTERLIST:

all my works here in one stop shop for oneshots .

top gun:

Jake hangman seresin :

FLUMPY (jake seresin x reader)

The dagger squad all were wondering who the mysterious figure was in one of the rooms in the base only to discover to bradley's explaining it was pete maverick Mitchell's  kid  with out seeing them fully before leaving jake makes a comment he will in future regret .  y/n doesn't let the man off light with the comment either . 

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6 part 7 part 8 part 9

one shots :

come soon

BRADLEY ROOSTER BRADSHAW

IF SHE WHERE MINE :

when  rooster finds reader stupid boyfriend cheating he doesn't mind telling him exactly how stupid  he is for hurting  a woman like that  , a woman he dreams of

Now she's mine :

sequel to if she were mine  where  rooster shows y/n how much she really loves her in the best way possible . 

THE LAST OF US :

joel miller:

call me cupid

when Ellie notices  the longing looks joel  gives  the woman in the canteen who does the same when joel isn't looking  she take it as her sole mission to set them up and even has a helper in her endeavours 

part one part two part three

sweetpea :

when failing to live it in new york  sweet pea goes home only to meet two new faces at her families barbeque that leads to new job and new friends and maybe more 

part one

It's a start:

when joel is settling into life in jackson there's one thing that has his attention , a woman of the name Y/N . The loner who barely spoke to anyone other than his brother til joel and y/n are sent to find supplies he soon finds out the reason why the girls quiet as he tries to break down the walls she built so long .

part one part two part three part four

i'll show you different :

y/n ( peach ) is learning to be free , learning to be her own woman again. Since life wasn't so easy for girl she ran from one monster into hands of another now back in her hometown back with her grandfather she learns being free is lot harder than she thought but lucky for her there's a couple of brothers help her along the way .

part one part two part three part four part five

SUPERNATURAL :

DEAN WINCHESTER :

IDIOTS :

when reader becomes the victim of a entity Dean is forced to admit feeling that he thought he could keep away in fear of being hurt .

CASTIEL:

A KIND OF SEX EDUCATION :

when a certain angel gets curious on certain matters

part one

part two part three

sam winchester

Spellbinding

sam being completely in love with reader who happens to be his best friend while on a hunt she is hit with a curse making her needy clingy mess while sam was loving the closeness it was only temporary right?

AVENGERS :

tony stark :

some one older :

when boys your age just don't do it for you but someone older does  .

part one

part two

PUNISHER , DAREDEVIL :

frank castle

angelverse :

angel :

When frank meets Matt murdock's sister , he become intrigued more and more as he's around the  so called angel of hell's kitchen ( How they met)  

angel night :

Frank comes home to thinking his angel is in danger only to realise that she has had a nightmare . he makes sure to comfort his girl . this like part of what i will be calling the angel verse  of our beloved bad ass punisher and his equally bad ass sarcastic ball of sunshine that is y/n " angel" murdock . 

bucky barnes :

the one :

just the grumpy teddy bear bucky pinning after thor sister that's been there through everything  

stranger things :

steve harrington :

The babysitting trap :

when always being the babysitter has it's perks for once.   except their friends had plans for the two

part one

part two *

Eddie munson :

Before he cheats :

Y/N hopper is out with the gang celebrating at the hideout when her boyfriend walks in with a blonde on his arm and she goes for where it hurts ... his car while eddie help the woman he secretly loves get over her new ex .

Lead me to you :

everyone thought they were dead but what happens when a ghost from the past brings hawkins metal head back from the so called dead and how will their friendship stands three years after dealing with feeling of the future and the nightmares of the past .

Part one

part two

the walking dead :

Daryl Dixon:

WORTHY :

daryl is head over  heel  , down bad for y/n  but he find that he's unworthy so he's spent years not telling her how he felt and yet is blind to the woman's love for him yet she scared thinking he wont til their friends have enough and try get the two to an overdue confession 

THE BOYS :

BILLY BUTCHER :

You're not wrong but don't mean it ain't right :

He didn't know it could happen not since becca died he never thought his heart could beat for another but instead of letting his heart win , he does everything in his power to push the woman away til he goes too far.

part one part two part three part four part five part six part seven part eight

X-MEN :

Logan howlett ( wolverine) :

odd one out :

logan's adjusting to new life , new friends only thing he can't put his finger on is wade's friend Y/n , he knows she hiding something and he right but he is so wrong too

Not just a flower child huh? :

the xmen are sent to rescue mutants in a lab , only find an unconscious young woman and couple of kids , when they bring her back to the mansion she is recognised by one of the residents . She awakes and finds out she and kids been saved wondering if it was all too good to be true ?

part one part two

part three part four part five part six

[bitchimasnake-sss]

masked fantasies ft. portagas d. ace!

set-up: going to your friend nami's costume party may have been a good idea, after all.

warnings: nsfw thoughts include bathroom sex, drunk sex, oralimplied (f!recieving), in a literal party so your friends will tease you about this endlessly; mdni thankyou!

💗the music blared loudly thru the house, audible clearly even with the closed bathroom door. your fingers lightly danced against the shoulder of the man who stood in front of you. portagas d. ace. your friend luffy's (hot) older brother.

💟 you knew luffy would probably be a little upset if he found his older brother's fingers were currently rubbing your clit through your skimpy, little thong. he would probably be a little mad if he knew you were sitting on the sink in nami's bathroom and moaning as his brother bit down on your neck and sucked hard. his tongue swiped down where he bit, soothing the skin and pressing a chaste kiss. but his brother was the one who started the ordeal.

💟look, you were no brother-fucker okay. and look, you knew taking zoro up for that alcohol challenge was stupid because you were just gonna lose and get drunk and messy. but it was too late. "hah" zoro laughed, chugging down on another bottle easily, "you're gonna throw up, stop it" "oh fuck off. not everyone's a raging al-coholic like you, bitch." you flipped zoro off, hiccupping slightly, "im gonna go dance." "don't fall to your face" he called out after you, still laughing. but now you were hammered. and what were you gonna do when an equally drunk, beautiful, hot man started dancing against you, sweet-talking his way to your pants??? especially when he showed up practically shirtless with just a ghostface mask on??? obviously you were gonna fuck him. obviously. 💟ace gulped down his drink, his eyes trained on your dancing figure as he pretended to listen to sabo next to him. and you'd admit, you aren't perfect so when you caught him looking at your swaying body in that tight, mini fairy costume, you may have beckoned him over to dance with you. and he may have come, rutting his pelvis against your ass as you threw you head against his shoulder. you swayed to the rhythm together, his warm hands on your exposed waist as you rubbed against him. he bent down to whisper in your ear, "you wanna go somewhere with me?" you looked back at him with a seemingly innocent look and pouted, "what for?" he laughed, "you'd figure out." 💟and now you were locked in the bathroom with him trapping you between the mirror and his body. you threw your head back, resting against the gigantic mirror as you gasped. his fingers expertly toyed with your cunt, using the wetness pooling in your panties to his leverage. "a-ace," you slurred, nails biting down crescent scars on his shoulders, "we shouldn't be doin' this." he pulled away from your body, smirking slowly, "why not?" "if luffy found out-" you breath hitched as his fingers went fasted against your clothed cunt, rapidly rubbing against your swollen clit. he tsked, "don't bring up my brother while im fucking you, baby" "but-" your distracting opinions came to a screeching halt as he swiftly pulled your thong aside, exposing your bare self to the cold air outside. you shivered as his calloused fingers stroke easy glides against your aching cunt. he flashed you a wicked smile, "let me help take your head off of things, yeah?" and he knelt down.

a/n: idk, head empty only ace forever <3 tagging: @tetsuskei @bokutosbiceps

[macsimagines]

Can we have some NSFW jealousy headcanons for Yandere Bonten Hanma, Mikey and Sanzu? Please❤️

I'm back bitches, this has been in my box for awhile sooooo you're first also I've done this ask for Mikey a few times sooo sorry

TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, ABUSIVE BEHAVIOR, PHYSICAL VIOLENCE, MURDER, KIDNAPPING?

Yandere!Hanma Shuji

Look, you need to be the real deal for him to give even a singular fuck about you. Its not easy for him to even "care" about an S/O, so for him to be a yandere means you're very special to him.

Not that it will ever show, he's acting like he's playing with you when the reality is you're the only thing on his mind. He flirts around, humiliates you and says borderline abusive things. It's not his fault you're cuter when you cry.

But now, you seem to think in that stupid tiny brain of yours that this is an equal playing field. That you get to play around too. Dumb baby.

He can't help but cock his head at how you're fliritng with some nobody at this dinner party. The way you bat your eyelashes and even touch this other guys shoulder. Hanma thinks you might've hit your head with how stupid you're being.

Then your eyes meet his from across the room and he sees the way you sneer at him. Like you're taunting him.

He takes care of it though. Takes care of the idiot that thought he could take something from Hanma Shuji. He makes sure that his fists don't stop until he's punching what feels like brain matter and shattered bones. He makes sure you're watching too. Laughing the whole time.

Even when he's done with the other man he still gets up and grabs you by the hair, smacking you hard across the cheek with a hand covered in rings and warm blood. He thinks he likes the wet sound it makes.

"This is your own fault, Y/N. What makes you think you get to play around like that? Now tell Daddy you're sorry."

Yandere!Sanzu Haruchiyo

You're shit out of luck because he is always jealous. It's just been a constant theme in your 'relationship' ever since it started.

The first night you met him was at the Haitani Brother's club, and you flirted back and forth with him, even though you weren't really feeling it.

But he had a lot of money and seemed to like spending it on buying you expensive drinks. So you let him have his hands on your waist, or would let it slide to cup your ass without really thinking too much about it.

It wasn't like you had to go home with him, right? Wrong. You let your attention be captured by someone else, someone actually your type and he sent them flying across the table...

After that he made it very clear you're attention is only reserved for him, and then he made it very very clear that you were going to be going home with him that night, and then he made it very very very clear that you're not going to be leaving his home that next morning. Ever.

"I've decided that you're just too pretty, and I'm going to keep you all to myself."

[shrack]

its soooo funny to me that my years long loki love has culminated into his Just Some Guy boyfriend being equally as important. for years ive defended lokis stupid ass, he loves his mother and cares about his family even though his father never cared for him and he always forced to live in his brothers shadow, he never really wanted to capture new york he was manipulated by thanos and the mind stone into it, etc etc etc, ive been saying it ad nauseum since i saw avengers one.

in pops the most Just A Guy ever, who sits at a desk and enjoys rc josta and jet skis, who i feel just an equal amount insane about even though ive only had him for two of my at minimum ten years of loki defense. and my god is he occupying the same space