#but i’m feeling more comfortable with the language i use to describe my “attraction”

[iammissingautumn]

not to be alterous but i was reading a post about someone’s experiences with differences between platonic and alterous feelings and it was so eye opening. I am so fully aplatonic it’s crazy, all of my friends i have different ways of being like. attracted to them alterously but it’s so nice to read something that continues to be confirmation yeah. I’m just alterous. No romance. No platonics. If I consider us friends, especially for awhile, I probably have such an interest in u and I really have never lied when I said I would date my my friends. Because people who are like that are like whoever i would choose to live my life with.

[matryosika]

Attraction, obsession, infatuation

Pairing — Hyunjin and fem!reader Wordcount — 7,680 words Includes — Explicit sexual content. Alcohol consumption, mentions of jealousy and possessiveness. Smut warnings under the cut. Summary — It is easier to hate than to admit loving. Alternatively, where Hyunjin realizes he might be tired of pretending he doesn't want to be more than just your toy. Author's Note — First 2024 full story! One of my New Year's resolutions was to keep on writing, since the last two years have been a bit too rough with my creativity and, overall, life. I hope I can continue posting stuff this year, but I literally can't ignore the fact that I am graduating college this June and that the adult life is, inevitably, catching up to me. Still, writing is something I love so I am determined to take this hobby very seriously, since it's one of the few things I enjoy! I hope you like this, please remember that english is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes in advanced. If you wish to support my work, please leave a comment, reblog or ask 💌 Post divider by @/cafekitsune

Smut Warnings — Dirty talk, (very) mild humiliation, oral sex (m. receiving), face fucking and deep throating, voyeurism, female (solo) masturbation), unprotected sex, penetrative sex, marking (and mentions of pain), dacryphilia, creampie.

Humiliating.

There is no other way to describe the situation that perfectly.

[21:19 p.m., Hyunjin: Seems like you got yourself a new toy]

[21:19 p.m., Hyunjin: You don’t want to play with me anymore?]

[21:20 p.m., Hyunjin: I mean, we both know why you agreed to come here in the first place. It's not like you're the best of friends with any of my roommates, anyways.]

You hate how right he always is —how shamelessly he speaks, how pridefully he carries that ego of him. 

People say there is a thin line between hatred and love, but they never talk about how tempting it is to walk on it. Especially because said line doesn't involve any of the former—if anything, that line represents all the carnal pleasures. 

Pure lust.

[21:21 p.m., You: Please]

[21:21 p.m., You: You’re so full of yourself, you know that?]

Hyunjin rolls his eyes right in front of you, tongue poking through his cheek while he reads your messages.

[21:22 p.m., Hyunjin: That never seems to be a problem when you're in my bed]

It's a never ending bickering. A never ending teasing. 

Hyunjin has always loved the thrill of doing things he isn't supposed to —no wonder why he ended up fucking you, out of all the women he knows. 

Attraction, obsession, infatuation. 

No amount of words could describe what happens between the two of you.

[21:23 p.m., You: I’m busy, in case you haven’t tell]

His cheeks grow hotter, killer eyes darting between you and the man you're talking to; appearing all sweet, gentle, collected, and everything you're not when you are with him. Your hand lays peacefully over your companion’s thigh, playfully hitting it when he says something remotely funny. 

Your smile hasn't worn off since you entered the party, and Hyunjin genuinely wonders if you’re that happy and comfortable to be around any other man. Inevitably, he begins to wonder if you'd let him touch you like he does, kiss you like he has. He stares at you two for a little too long, and questions if you'd let that man do everything Hyunjin is entitled to do with you. 

Would you let him treat you like he can? Let him fuck you like he does?

He chugs down the alcohol from his cup and uses that as an excuse to calm his masochistic urges, walking away from the scene he has been staring at for almost 10 minutes now. 

It's like pouring lime over a wound, like pulling out a loose tooth. It hurts, but it makes him feel something.

“If you didn't hate her I would say you're totally drooling over her,” a black-haired man that smiles teasingly with his eyes is quick to ambush Hyunjin as he makes his way to the kitchen. 

“What? Did your date get tired of you too early tonight?”

Changbin’s tongue pokes his cheek, and he can’t help but smile at Hyunjin’s moodiness. “She went to the bathroom, I just came here for some drinks”. 

“Well, get to it,” Hyunjin commands, stretching his shoulders in an attempt to release all the build-up tension over them.

“Man, you've been acting so out of your element lately,” Changbin remarks, placing a bottle of vodka and another of pineapple juice aside with two red solo cups. “You’re always in a fucking mood, this is actually the first time I see you outside your bedroom in like... a while”. 

Hyunjin won't admit it, but he is sulking. 

Because of college, because of work, because of things he can't begin to fix and because of you.

“Just busy, I guess,” he shrugs his shoulders. “Sorry I can't spend all day sticking my dick in different holes and doing an 8-hour shift at the gym”. 

Changbin scoffs bitterly under his breath, nose flaring at his friend's harshness. “Maybe that's exactly what you need,” he nods, pouring a drink for himself and his date, “a good fuck”.

He rolls his eyes. 

Yeah, maybe he needs that, but he also needs for you to stop touching your date's thigh, laughing amusingly loudly like you want him to hear how much of a great time you're having. Maybe Hyunjin needs to relieve all his anger on you, or he just needs for you to spare him a fucking glance because you haven't even looked at him since you walked in.

“Yeah,” he finally exhales, stealing the vodka bottle from Changbin’s grip to pour some onto his cup. He chugs it down quickly, and clears his throat when he feels the liquid burning inside, “that’s what I need”. 

Changbin pats his right shoulder and abandons the kitchen when he spots his date closing the bathroom door behind her. And Hyunjin is left alone once again, wondering if it's time to ditch the party and lock himself inside his room or if he should hurt himself a bit more to get a grip on reality.

Inconveniently, he chooses the latter. Resting his hips against the kitchen counter, and turning his back on the full view of the living room, Hyunjin begins to thread a line of questions that may never have a proper answer. 

Had he met you in another context, and in a distinct light, would things be different? Would your dynamic be different?

Maybe he would've apologized when he had time, for all the useless bickering that always took place between the two along the friend group. Had he surrendered to your stubbornness, rather than putting up a fight like it's typical from him, would the anguish be less?

Now that he reflects on it, Hyunjin can't even tell why you two hate each other these days. He never questioned it, the hatred you felt for each other, but he no longer knows why it's still there. Maybe it was a first impression, maybe it was a dumb comment or joke he cracked when you were introduced to the friend group. Maybe it was the fact that you two are so alike, personality wise, that you never seemed to get on.

Maybe you keep on hating each other because that's how it always has been, because there hasn't been a room to question the "what if's". 

Or maybe you hate him just for being him, and the only thing you've come to mend with is the fact that he is nothing more than a good fuck.

His heart aches because of this last thought, and he stares at his phone screen for a bit too long, hoping to get a text from you. But you're busy, you said it yourself, and he is just feeling out of place. 

“Hey,” the familiar voice it's enough for him to lift up his eyes from his phone, encountering a sheepishly grinning, red-eyed Jisung. “Changbin told me you’re in a mood, again”.

“He should put his mouth to good use,” Hyunjin rolls his eyes. 

“He is worried about you though,” his friend says. “We all are, you know”. 

Hyunjin sighs, “I’m fine”. 

“Dude, come on,” Jisung drags his words lazily. “It’s about her, right?”

He shoots a killer gaze at him, “about who?”

If Jisung hadn't been higher than the fucking Empire State, he would've considered Hyunjin’s gaze a threat. But his mind is not precisely paying attention to any social cues, so he proceeds to say your name as a response. 

"You should stop smoking that shit ever so often, you know?" he spits in annoyance, "it's making you delusional".

“Yeah, right man,” Jisung nods. “And you can keep being angry with the world just because you can't be angry with her”. 

It disgusts Hyunjin how poetic that sounds, but his friend isn't too far from the truth —he would much rather project his anger and annoyance onto everyone else before you.

Because if you call, if you look for him, if you text him and ask him to see you, he will always be available. Even when he is not. Even when he has a ton shit to do. Even if all you want is his dick and a couple of dirty words. 

Every time you ask, Hyunjin will give you anything you want.

“We don't have to talk about her though. Just wanted to check up on you,” his friend continues after an excruciatingly long silence, patting one of his shoulders like Changbin did before. 

“There’s nothing to talk about, anyways,” Hyunjin says.

“Are you on, like, bad terms?” 

“We’re not on any terms,” again, the urge to deny everything. It's always easier to pretend nothing it's going on than admitting there's a huge fucking elephant in the room. “We fuck, occasionally, and that's it. Not friendship, not intimacy, not trivial conversations about each other's days”. 

“Well, that's some sort of the ideal to a fuck buddy relationship,” Jisung tilts his head. “It’s supposed to work”. 

It should. 

And it did, for a while —when the feelings were minimum and could be repressed, when the anger only translated to hatred and annoyance, and not jealousy and possessiveness.

These days, it's just not enough.

“Yeah well,” Hyunjin scoffs bitterly, holding the almost empty bottle of alcohol to his lips. 

Thank God he isn't a light weight, because he would've been screwed by now. Vodka isn't his greatest match, but neither are you and he knows he has to sacrifice something tonight —whether it’s his rationality or his heart. 

“Alright,” he finally exhales, pushing the empty bottle away from the edge of the counter. “I’m going back to my room”.

"Already?"

“That's the beauty of people using your apartment to host a fucking party, I guess,” Hyunjin says, leaning down to one of the kitchen pantries to grab his favorite bottle of wine. “You can just walk a minute and be in the comfort of your own bed”. 

“Haven’t you drunk too much?” Jisung asks. 

“Definitely not enough,” the dark-haired replies, grabbing both the bottle and a glass with one of his hands. “Tell Jeongin to kick everyone out by 2, I’m not paying for another noise complaint again”. 

And as he makes his way to his room, it's inevitable for Hyunjin not to spare a glance at the couch you were once sitting on. But his eyes meet Changbin and his date instead, without any trace of you or the man you were with. And he doesn't know if he should feel relieved or worried because you're no longer in his eyesight, and as comforting as that thought should be is nothing more than anguish-inducing.

He says goodbye to some of his friends, and also deals with Changbin’s insistence to stay around before he is able to lock himself inside his room. It was, at best, a 3 minute situation from the kitchen to his bed, but it felt like ages. Mostly because his eyes kept on scanning the whole apartment, hoping to find something that could tell him you're still there and you didn't leave the party with that man although you probably did. 

Much to his surprise, when he opens the door to his room, he finds you sitting at the edge of his bed.

You don't say anything, and neither does he. So you two stare at each other for a while before Hyunjin closes the door right behind him, leaving the wine and glass on a small table by the door.

“Wine? At a college party?” You finally interrupt the silence, using that playful, teasing tone you always use when you want to get on his nerves. “You really are something else”. 

Typical Hyunjin would think of a comeback rather quicker than the speed of light —he has always been witty and good with his words, and that's something you find utterly, despicably attractive in him. 

But after 4 shots of vodka and an unamusing mood, all he wants it’s to kick you out and plop down onto his bed. 

“Weren’t you busy?” he asks in a murmur, too lazy to make himself be heard. But it is loud and clear for you to hear, even with the bustling coming from down the hall.

“He bored me,” you admit. “Kept talking about his football team, and how he is going to work at his father's company once he graduates”. 

Hyunjin lets out a bitter and quiet scoff, giving you his back while he pours some wine onto his glass. You can’t fool him, even if you try like right now.

But he attempts to ignore his rapid heartbeats by keeping a nonchalant, even annoyed countenance, albeit a part of him can't ignore the fact that you're in his room. 

Just you and him, finally.

“Are you going back to the party or…”

“I’m tired,” he cuts you short, chugging down the wine like it's a shot of anything else. Can't care less about etiquette when all he wants is to lose his sobriety along with his rationality. “I want to sleep”. 

“It’s 10:30,” you tease him, cocking one of your eyebrows and giving him that look that always makes him feel ridiculous.

On any other day, that would've been fuel to erase that smile off of your face by pushing it onto the pillows while he fucks you from behind.

Tonight, though, it just blatantly stings. 

“So?” The coldness in his voice makes you shudder, and when he doesn't respond like he usually does it's when you realize there's something different going on.

You and Hyunjin don't share that kind of intimacy. You don't tell him your problems, and he doesn't tell you his problems either. You don't comfort each other through words or romantic touches. You don't give words of encouragement and you don't talk things through.

If there's something to say, you do so through sex. 

But right now, that you've interrupted his night, you feel somewhat compromised to ask if he is alright.

“Bad day?”

Bad week, bad month, bad year, a bad fucking life.

“Don’t have to act like you care,” Hyunjin says, resting his hips against the furniture while he pours himself another glass of wine.

The comment catches you off-guard. First and foremost, because you're not quite sure you don't care about him at all. And second, because he is making it seem like you are the reason behind his bad mood.

But if he doesn’t want to talk, you’re not going to force him to. After all, you’re in his room for one reason, and one reason only. 

“Shit, sorry for asking,” you murmur, gripping the edge of the bed sheets with both of your hands. It's a common ground you've walked in, thousands of times. You've been in his bed for far more times than you can remember, and you've fucked a lot more than you can count. So you're not afraid of asking the question: maybe you should release some stress?

Hyunjin knows what you mean. He knows the sexual connotations of it, and knows that’s exactly the reason why you're in his room. 

On any other day, Hyunjin would've taken your word. But right now, when his eyes can only focus on the crimson bruise on your neck, the proposition enrages him.

He walks towards you, completely towering over your figure. One hand holds the glass of wine, while the other cups your face and maneuvers it harshly, leaving the hickey for him to see. 

“He bored you?” The way he spits such a question makes your heart skip a beat. Don’t leave a rough mark, you told the guy, just a faint hickey. Of course he wouldn’t care, and neither did you —otherwise you would’ve checked yourself in the mirror before approaching Hyunjin wearing someone else’s lovebites, “or he just wasn't the one you wanted to fuck tonight?”

You move your head away from his touch with a swift movement, immediately missing the warmth of his skin against yours, "does that even make a difference?"

But it doesn't.

In the end, you only look for him because you want a good fuck and it seemed like your date just couldn't get the job done.

Not because you want him, particularly. 

“No,” Hyunjin replies coldly. “But you should at least have some decency, you know?”

You know he isn't teasing you, like he always does. He is not saying all this to get a reaction from you, and that unsettles you.

He is acting and saying such things because he means them. Because he feels like them.

“Since when do you care about what I do or I don't?” you ask him, the tone in your voice increasing as Hyunjin’s gaze intensifies.

“You can do whoever the fuck you want,” he murmurs, uncrossing his arms to grip at the edge of the furniture behind him.

“Well, I want to do you”. 

“Maybe tonight I don’t,” Hyunjin gulps down the wine, having a way harder time swallowing the euphoric sensation of his ego rather than the alcohol coming down his throat.

 And you stare at him like he just said something controversial. Something weird, something unusual coming from him.

“You’re lying,” you say, darting him a challenging look. “You always want me”. 

“Why would I want something that everyone can have?” 

It’s his anger talking. His rage, his uncertainty, his jealousy. 

You're not wrong. He wants you, he always has and most likely always will. 

But he is too proud to admit it, both to you and himself. Especially after you’ve walked into his room with the ghost of another man’s hands and lips, wearing a mark on your skin that will never compare to how Hyunjin has been allowed to mark you.

“So that’s the issue?” you defy him, standing up from the edge of his bed to walk forward. “You’re acting like this just because I was with someone else?”

Your mocking tone makes it seem like it's something ridiculous and irrational, but you've aced your initial hypothesis.

You are the reason behind his bad mood.

“Just get out,” Hyunjin says, tense jaw and cold eyes locked into yours. “You're getting on my nerves”. 

Your tongue pokes through your cheek and you look at him in disbelief —you feel taken aback because of how he is acting, and you want to blame it on the alcohol he has ingested throughout the night. But he looks sober, and way more serious than his immature facade has ever made him appear.

“If I wanted to be with someone else tonight, I would’ve left your apartment a fucking hour ago,” the boldness in your voice only challenges Hyunjin to this staring contest he didn't know he is playing. Without blinking, without parting his gaze away, all his undivided attention is on you, and the way you're spitting your words like you're truly the one with a reason to be angry. 

Needless to say, your audacity only infuriates him further.

“If you wanted to be with me, you would’ve come into my room the second you step a foot into the apartment,” he shoots back, straightening his body against the furniture and causing it to move an inch closer to you, “I mean, you know the way well, don’t you?” 

He raises one of his eyebrows, and it’s embarrassing. 

Pathetically embarrassing. 

Stupidly idiotic.

“You've crawled on all fours from the door to my room before,” Hyunjin continues, tilting his head while his gaze falls from your eyes to your parted lips, “I'm sure that was enough for you to remember the path fairly well”. 

It was one time, you say to yourself. And you'd rather die than having to admit such a humiliating thing to anyone other than him. 

You'd rather die than having everyone know what you allow Hyunjin to do to you. You'd rather disappear into thin air than having to deal with the judgemental gazes from all of your friends.

The Hwang Hyunjin? The one you say you can't stand? The one that gets on your nerves because of how childish he is? The one you tell your friends you'd turn down a thousand times even if he was the last man standing on earth?

“Go fuck yourself, Hwang,” you're so close to him you can practically taste the red wine off of his lips. You're breathing the same air, hearts beating at the same rate.

You want him worse than you wanted him before —you like the feeling of his jealousy and his possessiveness. You like it when his hatred towards you transforms into hatred to anyone who dares to touch you; no one is allowed to have you like he is entitled to, and no one is allowed to hate you the way he does.

So he leaves the empty glass of wine behind, and guides one of his hands to your heated cheeks. He caresses it, pushing away the hairs from your face —the intimate touch might feel out of place and context, but you know damn well it's nothing more than the calm before the storm. 

A calling.

A warning.

You know Hyunjin more than you'd ever want to admit, and you crave him worse than you'd ever allow yourself to think.

"God fucked you up by giving you this shitty ego,” he murmurs, brushing his lips ever so slightly against yours. It seems as if Hyunjin walked right into your trap without knowing, blinded by instincts and completely ignoring the awful show you put up earlier with a man you don't even know his name, “and he fucked me up even more for making me like it”. 

It all happens in a fraction of second, too fast for you to catch some air and too sloppy for you to get the kiss right.

You're tasting the red wine, and his rage, and the longing lust you are always demanding from him whenever your body is against his. He kisses you ardently, teasing your tongue and biting your lower lip trying to fill you up just with him —to get rid of whoever kissed you first that night, and to intoxicate you with all of him for whoever will kiss you next.

One of his hands wraps around your figure, pressing you tighter against him, while the other swims through the roots of your hair, already in position to manhandle you like he knows he can.

The way he knows you want him to.

And you don't stop him when you feel the sting in your scalp, forcing you to break the kiss and down to your knees right in front of him in a careless way that will probably leave bruises.

“Said you wanted to do me?” Hyunjin asks, unzipping his pants with his available hand while the other holds your head still, despite your efforts to wipe away the drool from your lips and the hair sticking to your cheeks with his spit. “I’m right fucking here, do me”. 

You look at him with loathing but it is nothing more than a projection: you hate yourself for how much you needed this. 

For how much you need him.

“Don’t give me those eyes,” he falsely pouts, but the sound gets drowned in a grunt when he wraps his hand around his dick to stroke it a few times before guiding your mouth to the tip of it, “you want this”. 

His gaze finds yours in the midst of the struggle, and the only way you can think of letting him know you're consenting to this is by sticking your tongue out and licking the tip of his cock, collecting all his salty precum and tasting it like you've been starving for it.

At the sight, Hyunjin chuckles lowly. Still as cold, still as enraged.

“Did you suck him off too?” he asks, using the grip on your hair as his favor —with ease, he slams his hips against your mouth, letting the tip of his cock reach parts of your throat that are still tense. “Does he taste as good as I do?”

Hyunjin doesn't need to know that you planned this all along —that you purposely did everything to get him jealous. He doesn't need to know that you like the thrill of it, of watching his possessive and jealous side.

He doesn't need to know that you utterly adore when he fucks you like he actually hates you. Like you mean nothing and everything to him at the same time.

Hyunjin doesn't need to know a lot of things, so you tag along with the fantasy of everything you've yet to deny.

“Relax,” more than a soothing word, it’s an order. He maneuvers your head all along his length, applying more pressure when your nose hits his pubic bone and then forcing you away to let you breathe. “You’ve taken this cock before, you know exactly how to do it”. 

You try to regain control of your body, and your rationality, but it seems a rather useless task —when you're with Hyunjin, he is the one that does the thinking for you. When you're with him, you can't think of anything else but him, his voice, his eyes, the way he touches and kisses you, the way he tastes and the way he feels inside you.

“Too big,” you gasp in between thrusts of his hips against your lips. Your hand flies to reach the base of his cock, but he is quick to force you backwards with the grip on your hair.

“Do not touch me”.

“Hyun-”

“I said, do not touch me,” he repeats when you try to touch him again. “Do you really think you can go around touching other men and I won't do anything about it?”

Hyunjin wishes he wasn’t as prideful as he is —if he could swallow his ego easily, he could have your hands all over his body by now. But he is proud, and vengeful, and stubborn. No matter how much his skin is burning to feel the softness of yours against it, he needs to make his point.

“You’re- you can’t be serious,” you struggle between moans, with a voice so hoarse it's barely audible. 

“There’s the door,” he forces your head towards it, “you can leave if you don’t like it”. 

Your doe eyes, filled with anger and defy, dart between him and the door. Hyunjin is always the one in control, you're not really unfamiliar with that —the fact that he is acting like this, offering you a way out if you’re not willing to do things his way, makes you feel uneasy and curious.

You choose to stay only for the latter. Not because of anything else, right?

Right?

You don’t say anything, but fix your gaze on the man in front of you. 

And Hyunjin gets it, he gets the look you're giving him. That, paired with the fact that you're not doing anything to get away from his grip, tells him that you're more than willing to keep on going, so he continues manhandling you around.

“C’mere,” he mutters when guiding your head along his cock again, making you swallow him full without giving you any kind of warning whatsoever, “just like that”. 

You're gagging, and tearing up, and clearly struggling to take all of his cock. But never have you felt this hungry, and never have you felt this emptiness between your legs that only Hyunjin seems to be able to fill.

Your hands ache for his flesh, and so desperately you want to sink them on his thighs or ass; intertwine them with his, latch your fingers against his and squeeze them while you prove to him that he's the only one that gets to fuck your mouth like this. 

“Please,” you cry out when he gives you a break to catch some air, “I need- let me touch you, please”. 

"Should've thought of it before putting your hands on someone else," he hissed, brushing your hair wet with drool and tears away from your face. “Should’ve thought about me before running to another man”. 

“Hyunjin”.

Oh, how pretty his name sounds falling from your lips —especially when accompanied with sobs and whimpers. You're always so cool and collected, like you control everything and everyone around you. You never cry, never show anyone else a crevice of what you truly are, but he is the only one that gets to see you like this. The only one you really trust, the only one you give control to.

If you hate him that much, why do you always come crawling back to him?

If you hate him that much, why is he the only one that gets to use you like this?

And if you hate him that much, why can't Hyunjin forget what he truly feels about you?

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, cleaning your mouth and chin with the back of your hand. “I’m fucking sorry, okay? I’m sorry”. 

“For what exactly?” He is so close to you, you can feel the tip of his nose brushing against yours and get drunk on the wine that lingers in his breath. He is so close to you, he almost can't resist the urge of crashing his lips against yours again and taste himself off of you. 

“I don’t know,” you look at him with teary eyes. You feel like crying, and Hyunjin can tell. “I don’t know, it’s just- I’m sorry, okay? If that’s what you want to hear, then I’m sorry”. 

His eyebrows furrow.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” he says. “Your apologies mean nothing to me”. 

Your heart stings, and it is unusual. He is unusual, painfully real unlike all the times you've pretended to hate each other just for the dynamic.

Blame it on the alcohol, or the stress he has been feeling lately, or the fact that you've been nothing but a brat these days, but Hyunjin is angry. And hurt.

“Your actions, on the other hand,” it's all he tells you with his bright eyes boring into yours. “I want you to show me how sorry you truly are”. 

“Wha-”

He maneuvers you from the floor to his bed, forcing you on your back against the sheets you've grown to know fairly well. Your body writhes under him, and you fight back the urges to wrap your arms around his neck and force his body close to yours. 

“How- am I supposed to show you?” you ask in between the struggle, moving your body to Hyunjin’s will. With your help, he unbuttons your jeans and scatters them along the floor, just like your blouse and underwear.

He lets out a soft scoff, blowing air through his nose, amused. "As if you don't know me that well".

And because you know him well, you can't avoid the eerie feeling of fear that settles up in the deepest pits of your chest when his cold gaze makes contact with yours.

“What are you going to do to me?” You ask, with your heart ringing loudly in your ears.

“You should be asking what you're going to do for me, instead,” he murmurs, caressing the sides of your body with a creepy delicacy that doesn't match his demeanor at all. "Don't you want to be forgiven?" It's a rhetorical question, you know that much. And you do want to be forgiven, but you're not quite sure what twisted idea Hyunjin has of an apology. 

So you stay quiet, and hope for the best.

“You said you wanted me, right?” He asks yet again, fixing his eyes on yours. You just nod. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Yes,” you rush to say, “yes, I said I want you”. 

“How bad?”

The endless teasing is making you frustrated, but you're used to that. However, you're not used to feeling tears prickling at the corners of your eyes with each second that passes by.

You need him desperately. You need his kiss, and tongue, and hands on every part of your body that you'd never allow anyone else to touch.

No matter how much you say you dislike Hyunjin.

“So fucking bad,” you cry out, kicking you head back against the pillow.

Hyunjin hums, peppering wet and sloppy kisses over your tummy and inner thighs. You feel his breath so close to your wet center that you can only hope he gives you the attention you need. 

But that is not going to happen any time soon, and you know that.

“Fuck yourself,” he commands you, kneeling between your spread legs on top of his bed, “prove to me that you want me”.

You know the catch, know why Hyunjin is asking you such a thing.

He never does, unless he wants to punish you. And albeit not a rough punishment, there's nothing sweeter than watching you fall apart in frustration, to watch you deny yourself because he said so, to see you squirming in pain because you overstimulated yourself.

But then again, you'd do anything he says, just to be one step closer to him.

So you comply, with your index and middle finger shaking in anticipation as they make contact with your folds. Slowly but surely, you start fulfilling his demand —bitterly, with a look of disdain. 

One of his hands spread your legs further, and he stays kneeling between your thighs as he watches you. 

Impatient, eager, angry.

“I don’t have all day,” he finally snaps after a good 30 seconds of you just timidly teasing yourself. You can’t admit it out loud, but it is embarrassing —to have his eyes all over you but not his hands, to have your legs spread for someone who has no interest in touching you.

It's also embarrassing how wet you are by all of this. By his attitude, his anger and his jealousy.

“Sorry,” you barely mumble, sinking two fingers inside your throbbing pussy. 

You feel nothing. Not pain, nor pleasure. Just nothing.

“One more,” Hyunjin tells you and you comply. But after getting used to him and his size, nothing fills you up anymore. 

“You don’t- you don’t expect me to come just by this, do you?” You ask with a nervous scoff, biting down on your lower lip as you pull your fingers out just to thrust them inside again.

Hyunjin doesn't answer, and that only fuels your anguish even more. Instead, he fixes his eyes on your fingers, and the way they glisten with your wetness. He focuses on the sounds they make, and how warm you must feel after all the teasing.

You let out a whine, but it is not out of pleasure. It's a frustrated whine, a desperate one. You kick your head back, and fuck yourself harder with your fingers.

All your efforts are pointless.

“Don’t you dare,” Hyunjin warns you when your other hand slips to touch your clit. 

“I- I can’t just come with this,” you groan.

“How is that my problem?” 

It is humiliating —the way he is looking down on you, the way he is clearly amused by how stupid you must look right now touching yourself without feeling anything.

“Keep on going,” he tells you, licking his lips, “you won’t stop until you come”.

You shake your head and kick it against his pillow, trying to go impossibly deeper in hopes of finding that spot inside of you that only Hyunjin seems to know well.

Again, pointless.

“Come on,” you whine, now really on the brink of tears, “don’t do this to me”. 

“You did this to yourself,” he simply says, and his digits graze against your naked legs. 

The stimulation on your flesh is enough for you to clench around your fingers, and Hyunjin lets out a twisted smile when he sees the goosebumps flowering.

“Hyunjin”. 

“Can’t come by yourself?” He asks with a fake empathy, “you need me for that, right?”

You know where this is heading, and you’re willingly letting him lead you that way —you nod, swallowing thickly. 

“Yes,” you admit, hoping such a confession is enough to do something. Anything.

“Am I the only one who can make you come?”

“Yes, Hyunjin,” there's an inner conflict between your lust and your ego —you wish to fight back, but your mind is already surrendering. Your answer isn't far from the truth anyways, so why is it so difficult to admit it out loud? “Yes, you’re the only one”. 

“That’s what I thought,” he whispers quietly, dragging the tip of his digits along your spread thighs.

You’re aroused and whriting in anticipation, You’re aroused and trembling in anticipation, your whole body is ready for him, anything he wants to give you, and he can tell.

That's probably the worst part of it all —your mouth can always voice how much you hate him, but your body will keep on betraying you every time.

“I can’t,” you murmur, relentlessly trying to get yourself to your high, “I can't do this on my own anymore, you're the only one who can”. 

It's embarrassing to admit such a thing, both to him and yourself —it's not like you're saying so just to get what you want.

You're saying so because it's the truth, because not even you nor your toys can get you to come like Hyunjin does. 

“Remember that every time you even think about being with someone else,” Hyunjin’s body hovers over you, fitting perfectly between your open legs. “No one is going to make you feel like I can”. 

You drown a moan when you feel his clothed erection pressing against your folds. The fabric of his pants is rough, but your body unconsciously grinds on it.

“Just fuck me, Hyunjin,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his hips and feeling his warmth spreading from your chest to your limbs, “please, please, please”.

He needs you just as much.

And his intention was never to deny you, but to remind you that you belong to him. Whether you want to admit it or not, whether you even know it —your body responds to Hyunjin, and Hyunjin only. 

“Patience is a virtue, you know?” He scoffs, sneaking a hand between your bodies to slide the tip of his dick against your folds, “I spent all night looking how someone else got his hands all over you”.

You tremble underneath him, begging for anything he might want to give you. 

“It wasn’t a pretty sight, you know?” Hyunjin continues, “it kills me that no one knows you're mine”. 

Your heart skips a beat at his rageful words, as you breathe the same oxygen that leaves his lungs. 

“Hyunjin”. 

“I hate the fact that I just can’t kiss you when I feel like it,” he presses his forehead against yours, taunting your lips with his. “Can’t even fuck you when I want, without caring if someone hears or not”. 

There's a pinch of frustration and despair in his voice. Like he is asking you to read between the lines, to give some sense to his words.

“We hate each other, don’t we?” You remind him, digging your nails in the flesh of the sides of his body.

“Do you really think this is hate?” He asks, and presses his hips against yours. You feel his hardened length getting coated with your wetness, and you can’t help but moan. 

“Everybody thinks we can’t stand each other,” you wrap your legs around his hips, forcing him to make a move. And as if on cue, he gets what you’re demanding —he slides the tip of his dick in, so easily that it's hard to believe your body wasn't perfectly made for him.

“But no one knows what we do behind their backs, do they?” He asks, grunting quietly when he finally bottoms out, “they don’t know how good we fuck each other, how good we make us feel”. 

It's not the time to pause and reflect about the dynamic you've shared with Hyunjin over the past year. It's also not the time to think about what could happen if you were to reveal to your closest friends what you and Hyunjin have. 

It's exciting to keep things a secret, but you're not quite sure how long you can go without one of you getting tired of it.

It's not the time, and you don't dwell on it because you soon feel Hyunjin's hips slowly pulling and then bottoming out again. The sudden hit of his pubic bone against your swollen clit sends shivers down your spine, and you hug him tightly against you.

“Because you make me feel so good,” he murmurs, leaving a wet trail of kisses from your lips, to your chin and jaw, “so fucking good”. 

You clench around him at his words, and he lets out a raw moan. 

“You too,” you swallow thickly, “you too- make me feel so good”. 

“Just me?”

“Just you Hyunjin- fuck,” you bite down the flesh on his shoulders when his hips snap against yours, making your whole body jolt, “like that, fuck me like that”. 

With painfully slow but hard strokes, Hyunjin pounds his dick inside your wet pussy.

The lewd noises it makes, paired with his skin hitting yours, drowns his bedroom. They also drown the bustle behind the door, the faint voices of those who are still outside partying and drinking.

Those who don't know how much you love fucking Hyunjin, and how much he loves fucking you.

“I have to make sure it's only me who gets to have you like this,” and with that being said, he sinks his teeth and nibbles at the flesh where burgundy and purple bruises rest. 

You arch your back in pain, feeling your neck burning. He holds you in place as you writhe beneath him, placing all his weight over you to prevent you from squirming away from him.

“It’s just a little pain,” his soft voice coos, grabbing the sides of your neck with one of his hands while his lips attack the love bites made by someone else, “nothing compared to what you made me feel tonight”.

Your heart starts beating faster at his words.

“I’m sorry,” tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you still let Hyunjin mark you. 

You want him to, anyway. No matter how painful it can be.

“I know you are,” he hums, satisfied with the way you’re clenching around him. 

He kisses your flesh softly, trying to soothe the pain away, and you move your hips, desperate to have him moving inside of you again.

He loses no time into it, holding his weight back off of you to continue on fucking you.

“You look so pretty now,” he twistedly smiles, with a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead and nose, “my lips and teeth look so good on you”. 

The minute he bites down his lower lip and his eyes go blank, you start feeling the tension building up inside your abdomen. You’re close, and you’re desperate to come.

“Hyunjin,” one of your hands holds his bicep, while the other makes a mess of the bed sheets beneath you.

“Not yet,” he warns you, and at that you let out a frustrated sound, “hold it a bit longer, come with me”. 

You close your eyes shut and kick your head back, hoping that if you don't look at him, you can prolong the time before you come. But he is fucking you so good, and his dick is hitting all the right spots inside of you, that you really don't think you can hold it as long as he wants you to.

“Please,” you cry out, this time tearing up. You can’t help it —the tears fall from your closed eyes without a warning. They stain your cheeks, and get lost in the crook of your neck that is still burning with Hyunjin’s love bites. 

“Open your eyes,” his hand cups your face, and you snap them open as a reflex, “let me see you crying”.

His words ignite a fire inside you, just as much as your tears do to him. His cock twitches at the sight of your clouded eyes and the way they beg for his release.

It’s the first time he sees you cry, 

and it shouldn't arouse him as much as it does. He knows what's behind those tears, and maybe that's the reason why he is enjoying them.

Frustration, rage, despair, attraction, obsession, infatuation.

He buries his nose on the flesh of your cheek and kisses your tears, one by one, as he continues pounding himself inside of you. 

“Can’t-” you murmur, digging your nails on his shoulders. Hyunjin hisses at that. “I can’t hold it”. 

“Give it to me,” he finally exhales, increasing the movements of his hips. And you comply —you give your orgasm to him, squeezing his cock almost aggressively. Your body trembles and he hugs it tightly, fucking you through your high as he comes with you.

“Fuck, Hyunjin,” at one point, your body goes limp —the pleasure becomes too strong that you melt into his arms. 

He moans your name, over and over again, until his voice becomes a whisper, and his hips relax into yours. His body rests on top of you, hugging you, pressing kisses to your forehead and temples while you wrap your arms around him. He doesn't pull out, and you don't want him to —at least not yet.

Sex with Hyunjin always goes a little bit like this, but it never feels as intimate as it does right now.

Your sweating bodies are pressed against each other, and your hearts are beating at the same rate. Your mouth tastes like red wine, despite you not having drunk any, and Hyunjin’s chest smells like your perfume. 

The crescent moon-like imprints from your nails are still pulsing on his shoulders and back with desire, and your neck still burns with his possessiveness.

It seems as though you two are one, and it is impossible to deny it.

If hate is another synonym for infatuation, you might as well be willing to hate each other until death.

[jexnkookie]

The Law of Attraction (Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 8]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism]

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 2.9k

Author's Note: *SPOILERS: Please read after reading the chapter* As I mentioned in my author's note, the places in this chapter are either inspired by, or directly noted, as real places in NYC. The 'French language book store' is heavily inspired by Albertine, which does have a beautiful ceiling on the second floor, like the one described here, and is only a twenty minute walk away from the second location, Central Park Zoo. So this chapter largely takes place in the irl area of Upper Manhattan. Again, thank you so much for reading!

Taglist: @cassies-cookies @crisle19 @dream-cvtcher @jimincrystal @jksusawife @jk-190811 @khadeeeeej @kooklovee @lalataegi @lallataegi @mukeovernetflix @rispwn @shellyyy177 @smoljimjim @taetaecatbo @user-190811 @whoa-jo @11thenightwemet11

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Series Masterlist

Blueberry pancakes were a treat that you haven’t enjoyed since you were a kid. You used to make them during warm, summer mornings with your mother. You remember sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging your small legs off the edge, with a bowl in your lap that was almost as big as you. Your mother always used bright blueberries picked from her garden, and joke that it was her trick to get you to eat more fruit. But it never felt like a trick to you; it only felt like a treat. 

Maybe that’s why this morning felt strangely familiar. Jung Kook had gotten fresh blueberries from the market earlier that week, and had the idea to drop them into some pancake batter. You felt like a little girl again, only this time, your legs were longer as they hung off the edge of a kitchen island that wasn’t yours. You were still in your grey pajama shorts and an oversized black sweatshirt, with your slightly brushed hair pushed away from your bare face with a plain black headband. Jung Kook wouldn’t mention it, but he had never seen you look more beautiful. He just settled on sending you gentle looks as he watched you stir the batter. 

The apartment was comfortably quiet. You could hear the morning traffic from the streets down below, but just like the first night you spent here, the outside world seemed a million miles away. You absentmindedly looked around his kitchen while you cooked, glancing past Jung Kook, whose back was turned towards you as he plugged in his griddle, and onto the photo you saw the other night. 

“Hey, Jung Kook,” You caught his attention. “Is that your Eomma? In the photo?” 

“Hm?” He hummed, turning towards where your attention was. “Oh, yeah. She was at my graduation.” 

“She’s very pretty.” You complimented, making him grin. “Your parents must be so proud of you.” 

“I hope so.” Jung Kook offered a soft smile. “Appa passed away years ago, but I like to think he’d be proud of me.” 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know-”

“It’s alright.” He chuckled a bit to himself. “Really, it’s ok.” 

“Still. I’m sorry.” You apologized, letting a moment pass before asking, “Did he practice law, as well?” 

“No, he um, he worked at the ports.” Jung Kook explained, putting his hand above the griddle to check the heat. “He was hired during the big trade boom that happened years ago, right when the Busan ports really took off. He uh, worked in a warehouse.” 

“That sounds like hard work.” 

“Yeah, I remember he had a lot of pain.” Jung Kook recalled, leaning against the counter. “When I tried to play with him, he’d complain about his legs. But I don’t know how much of that was from really from work, since he was sick too.” 

“Oh, yeah.” You nodded, saddened by his story. “I can’t imagine what that’s like. Jimin talks about losing his Eomma sometimes, and I feel like I never know the right thing to say.” 

“Is there ever really a right thing to say?” Jung Kook asks, with a sad smile and a shrug. “I didn’t know that Jimin lost a parent too.” 

“Yeah, a long time ago.” You said, memories flooding back. “She was always so nice. She used to bring Jimin to my house for playdates when we were kids, because she was friends with my Eomma. We used to play in the pool in my backyard, while our mothers would talk for hours.” 

“Your families must know each other well.” Jung Kook said, hoping his voice didn’t sound too sad. 

“Our parents have been friends for years.” You nodded, and explained, “Sometimes, I wonder if that’s the only reason why Appa said yes to our engagement.”

There was a silence. So much hung heavy and thick in the air, that Jung Kook wanted to know. Has your father changed his mind about Jimin? Do you need to be engaged to someone from yourworld of wealthy, business families, in order for your family to approve? How does he, the son of a warehouse worker, have a chance with you? But as he looks at you, the only thing he could focus on, was the empty spot where your engagement ring should be. Its absence gave him hope that he clung to, despite knowing like he shouldn’t. 

“I think uh, I think its hot enough for the batter now.” Jung Kook lightens the mood, taking the bowl from you, before turning around. “I’m starving.” 

“Me too.” You responded, thankful for the change in tone. “You still haven’t told me what we’re doing today, by the way.” 

“Can’t.” He tsked, spooning out batter and grabbing a spatula. “That’s a surprise. Top secret.” 

“No way you’re keeping secrets right now.” You joked with a smile. “And to think, we were getting along so well.” 

“Were?” He looked at you from over his shoulder with a playful look in his sparkling brown eyes. “After today, I think I’ll be your best friend.” 

“Best friends don’t keep secrets.” You mumbled, making him shake his head with a dimpled grin.

You ate breakfast, before getting ready for the day of whatever Jung Kook had in mind. As you slipped on a floral mini sundress and a pair of comfortable sandals, you realized you hadn’t stopped smiling since retreating back to the guest room.

As the two of you left the apartment building, and made your way down the stairs and onto the subway, Jung Kook couldn’t stop his fingers from twitching slightly and fidgeting by his side, like there was something magnetic trying to pull his hand towards yours. He wanted so badly to touch you, but he resisted. So he just sat in silence, as the train moved quickly down to its next stop, and watched as you looked through your phone’s camera roll to pass the time. You stopped on the photos of Jimin just a little longer, looking at his happy smile and crescent moon eyes that you’ve grown to love. You don’t see them much these days, and you missed them. 

Jung Kook watched your finger hesitate above the screen to move past each photo of Jimin, despite knowing he would be on the next one too. He had to admit that Jimin looked happier back then, the excitement of a newly found love clearly written on his soft features. 

“Hey,” Jung Kook said calmly, making you look up at him, your shoulders touching as you sat close together. “Everything is gonna be ok. You’re worried, aren't you?” 

“Yeah.” You agreed. “I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be sad today.” 

“It’s alright.” He reassured you. “I think you have every reason in the world to be worried right now. But, I also think that everything is going to work out.” 

“Yeah?” You asked. 

“Yeah.” He smiled, giving into his temptation to hold your hand in his, settling it comfortably on your lap. “I think everything will work out for the best.” 

When the subway stopped, he kept his hand in yours and led you through the crowd, out of the subway. He let go as you two walked side by side down a few blocks into the city. The air was warm but not unpleasant, with a slight breeze blowing through your hair. You looked up at him as he spoke animatedly, pointing to various things he’s discovered since moving to the city, and you noticed yourself matching his energy so easily. When Jung Kook smiled, it made you smile, too. His laugh was contagious, making you laugh along with him. When he became excited in sharing something, it made you want to be excited about it, too. There was a boyish charm to him, an almost innocent undertone, to everything he did that made it so easy to be with him. 

You realized that you weren’t with Mr. Jeon, professional and put together. You weren’t with the shy student who sat next to you in class and bought you a chocolate bar on a hard day, either. You were just with Jung Kook; the son of a middle class warehouse worker, who worked his way into one of the most elite law firms in Manhattan. A man with dazzling brown eyes, dimples, and a sleeve of tattoos decorating one of his toned arms, who looked more like a rock drummer than a lawyer. A man who, until now, you have never looked at too closely. But now that you have, you admit to yourself that you find it hard to look away. 

“I’m really excited to take you to this place.” Jung Kook said, standing beside you facing a crosswalk. “How much French do you remember from university?” 

“I use it often, just so I won’t forget.” You said with a smile. “I can’t believe you remembered I minored in French.” 

“Y-Yeah.” Jung Kook said, suddenly embarrassed. I remember everything, he thought to himself. 

The two of you quickly walked across the street, and into a beautiful, small bookstore. Jung Kook walked over to the mini espresso bar, and ordered two vanilla lattes while you looked around the store, realizing all of the books were written in French. 

“A French language book store.” You realized, turning to the man coming over with two drinks in his hands. “Jung Kook, how did you even find this place?” 

“I found it one day, just passing by on my way to our next stop.” He explained, feeling happy that you were happy. “There’s an upstairs, too. You have to see it, it’s the best part.” 

He led you up the creaky wooden steps, and into a gorgeous room, with a ceiling painted a deep, navy blue. Spots of gold paint contrasted against it, like stars, and brought of the gold of the large pendant lighting fixtures illuminating tables of books. 

“Jung Kook, it’s so pretty.” You said, staring up at the ceiling. Captivated by the art deco work, you didn’t notice Jung Kook was captivated by you.

“Yeah.” He agreed, his soft eyes focused only on you. “Really pretty.” 

You stared at the fake stars, painted onto a fake sky, and Jung Kook continued to stare at you, and feel something undoubtedly real. It was the same real feeling that he felt this morning, making pancakes with you. The same feeling, when he saw you sitting alone at a restaurant, abandoned by your fiancé. The same feeling he had every day, sitting next to you in class. The same feeling he’s had ever since he met you. He knew what he wanted to call it, but naming the feeling would make something that’s real, a little too real. So he watched you take a photo of the ceiling, and browse the books, and sip your coffee, and do what you’ve always done best; make him feel something and not know. He continued to do what he does best; fade into the background, and not let you know. 

“Are you done looking too?” You asked, walking over to where he was standing. “This was amazing, Jung Kook. Really, thank you.” 

“Any time.” He smiled. “C’mon, I’ve got one more stop.” 

After exiting the store, and walking down a few blocks, you realized the direction you must be headed when in front of you, was a large, green area.  

“The park?” You asked. 

“Kind of.” Jung Kook said. “I mean, yes, Central Park, but uh… more specifically, the zoo.” 

“The zoo?” You smiled. “You’re taking me to the zoo?” 

“Is that ok?” He asked, his voice had a touch of nervousness to it. “I think there’s something here you’ll really like.” 

“It’s definitely ok.” You said, touching his arm to relax him. Little did you know that had the opposite effect, making his cheeks turn pink at the contact. “I haven’t been to a zoo in such a long time.” 

“Great. You’re going to love this.” 

Taking your hand to lead you through the crowded ticket booth and entrance, you finally made your way in, and just like the subway, he dropped your hand when the crowd was gone. You understood why; he was being respectful, not wanting to cross any boundaries, or act inappropriately. But you still couldn’t shake away the small, unfading sense of disappointment when he let go. 

He helped you up close to the glass, so you could look in to see fuzzy, red pandas lazily sleeping around their exhibit. Jung Kook pointed, sticking his finger to the glass, at one that had a bit more white in its face, making it look extra adorable. You watched him excitedly talk about them, and how he’s excited for the zoo keeper to do their feeding demonstration. 

“It’s almost time.” He said. “They’re just so cute.” 

You realized just how well that word suited Jung Kook, too. The curve of his nose, and his charmingly big puppy eyes, and his toothy grin, and his dimples. Standing next to him felt like being next to comfort personified, and as you watched him, that one, perfect word spun around your mind; cute. 

That word stayed, lingering persistently, on your way back to the subway, and when his hand slid so easily into yours again to lead you through the crowd. It stayed on your walk back to his apartment, and when he came out of his bedroom dressed down in black sweatpants and a t-shirt. It stayed when he sat on the floor of his living room with you, eating freshly delivered pizza and pouring you a glass of wine. 

That one glass became two, which became three, and casual conversations turned into deep belly laughs over university stories that you knew you’d never forget. His laugh, his fluffy, dark hair, his energy that seemed to radiate off of him. Everything was just…Cute. 

As you were helping him clean up the mess from the kitchen for the night, a red wine buzz inspiring clumsy movements from both of you, you let out a giggle every time your bumped into each other within the small space of the kitchen. You helped in putting up cleaned plates, while Jung Kook placed left over pizza in the refrigerator. The two of you turned around at the same time, almost colliding with each other, if it wasn’t for Jung Kook quick placement of a hand on each of your arms and steadying you. He froze, locking his attention onto you with wide eyes. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled with a grin. 

“It’s ok.” You replied, meeting his grin with your own. 

You both stood there smiling for a moment, before Jung Kook’s eyes dared to look down slightly, taking a peek at your lips. He let his concentration stay there for a moment too long for you not to notice, and the air became heavy, yet somehow delicate, at the same time. The traffic that could usually be heard from his apartment seemed to have fallen silent, and the room around you melted into empty space. He stood still, afraid that if he moved too quickly, he’d scare you away. So he waited for something, anything, unsure of what he was waiting for, or if he’d recognize it if he saw it. 

Then, a ring of his phone in the living room brought you both crashing back to reality. You looked away from his face with a funny feeling in your chest that you couldn’t place. It was like being greeted by an old friend from years ago, but not quite remembering their name. 

“S-Sorry.” He stuttered, taking his hands off of you to walk quickly towards the living room, leaving you in the kitchen alone. 

“Hello?” He answered, mentally cursing whoever was on the line. 

“Hey, it’s Namjoon.” Namjoon said. “I just wanted to check in with you and Ms. Y/L/N, just to see how she’s doing today.” 

“She’s good.” Jung Kook responded, resisting the urge to hang up the phone. 

“That’s good to hear.” Namjoon’s voice sounded mildly suspicious. “Listen, I also wanted to give you a heads up about tomorrow; you’ll be receiving a call from a possible new client in the morning who I sent your way.” 

“O-oh, ok. Wow, uh, thank you.” He said, scratching the back of his neck. “I appreciate that.” 

“Don’t mention it. He gave me a brief run down of the situation over the phone today while you were out; damages to a private yacht, he says it’s not his to pay. He’ll tell you more tomorrow.” 

“Sounds good.” Jung Kook said, looking at you finishing cleaning in the kitchen, finishing with everything without him.

“I’m sure you’re tired, I won’t keep you on the phone. Get some rest, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.” Jung Kook said quickly, hanging up the phone to see that you were already walking away, retreating to the guest bedroom. 

“‘Night, Y/N!” He said, cringing internally at himself for how loud and rushed his voice came out. You politely stopped and turned, meeting him with a smile. 

“‘Night, Jung Kook.” You waved. “Thanks for today. I had a lot of fun with you.” 

“Me too.” He said, kicking himself for his response as you walked away and closed your bedroom door. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled at himself, before going into his bedroom for the night. 

[astropookie]

juno signs and their specific love language🦋🪷 pt2

Lovely Complex

juno shows us what’s the style that functions better with you -relationships, meaningful committed partnership-, the characteristics of our ideal partner and more.

birth chart + tropical + whole sign system

Taurus

FIRST OF ALL, you don’t play around-yes you do but-, you want someone loyal to their values, someone that will listen to your stubbornness -stubborn thoughts/mind-. you want a GENTLEMAN on whoever you like -ik gentleman is originally referred to men but my intention it’s there-, you want someone that’s drooling for you and shows how attentive they’re without shame. HEAR ME OUT, someone with MONEY or in other words, that can prioritize you economically and takes their time on giving you gifts -flowers, makeup, chocolates, cheesy stuff-. someone that has the ability of transmitting peace in all your bullshit. someone who seems, at first sight, like a junkie? who appears intimidating but then you get to talk to them a few times and realize they’re genuinely a sweetheart. taurus juno will spend like nothing money on you, specially on food, they’ll share it 😭 -idk if it’s just my experience-. this is not beating the taurus allegations. most of the time individuals with juno in taurus have this calm and too much energy that needs to be recharged with their special one.

Libra

they have to be esthetically appealing or have this venusian sense of things, fashion, hygiene, even k how to choose the right t-shirt for an outfit -jk-. they need someone who brings them balance, the balance they seek in all the aspects of their life, including their ideal partner. they LOVE seeing their partner walking and say “hi” to everyone and being reciprocated: social butterfly. practically, being conscious of how to treat people, emotionally intelligent that’ll benefit them in the social aspect. They seek someone who has charisma, who has a sense of justice and consideration, like how almost every prince of disney is presented: the idealized version. idk why I imagine ryan evans from high school musical smirking when libra juno it’s mentioned 😭. you need someone who helps you to feel part of something, not to feel excluded, you want to be in peace. YOU FUCKING LOVE CLICHE STUFF, even if you won’t admit it. someone who let you be a drama queen and will keep it cool with it. your specific love language is to help them in their outfits, in their hygiene, even haircut. idk there’s something so idealized in how libra juno loves, they admire their partner so much.

Leo

personally, sometimes I get pretty confused when they describe what a libra wants and what a leo wants in their ideal partner, the thing here is that leo needs someone who would see them as who they’re; on the other hand, libra is not needy of that treatment, they want someone who would fit perfectly on that space they need to balance their life. leo juno needs and they’re attracted to someone who’s the center of attention without even trying, talented asf, someone who will treat you like you’re their world, who will value and recognize the things you do for others and how you care about people, who would do the same for you. they’ll make you feel as special as you fcking are. leo juno needs expression, affirmation to feel in harmony. THE ATTENTION their ideal partner will give is crucial. they don’t want someone that’s comfortable to be around, they want someone who could practically be their enemy, who match their energy, who’s as competitive and as talented as them. leo juno specific love language is showing you towards others as your partner/special person. this Juno knows their value.

♡ Based on personal experience and I’ve analyzed in my surroundings

♡ English is not my first language

♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer

Thank youu. baibaii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

[lawtiee]

sun bleached leather - chapter one

Series Masterlist | Daily click for Palestine

Kinks/Warnings: Slight NSFW (No smut yet), not proofread, somewhat obsessive behavior, dysfunctional friend group, mild language, POC characters (WOO WHO CHEERED?!), lots of lying, walking red flag of a character (don’t be like her xx)

W/C: 1.5K

A/N: Most of this chapter is just like getting to know characters and stuff methinks. 😭 Hoping that this eats because I’m gonna flip if it doesn’t perchance. 🤞 I’m mostly yapping here for whatever odd reason but PLEASE ignore it.

It was wrong in every prospect — she couldn’t reason with something like this. But she couldn’t stop herself. She couldn’t stop herself from obsessing over this girl she’d only ever seen once. She has an unnatural sense of need for her. She dreams about her, even taking it as far as daydreaming about being with her.

Almost entirely so that she could tune out anything happening around her. She was sitting in some local restaurant with her friends, celebrating one of their birthdays. The booth was small and the seats were somewhat sticky, leaving them to almost be too close for comfort, but enough to seat the four of them. The wooden table seemed worn out, yet homey. It attracted many people as the restaurant was bustling with bodies and chatter. A half-and-half that sat infront of her was almost untouched as she thought.

Her friend waves infront of her face. “Hey! Anybody home?” She jokes, her shiny acrylics flashing under the light. “Ah, sorry. I’ve been.. out of it a little lately.” She chuckled awkwardly, sipping her drink. “Who’s the lady, Tai?” A girl with curly hair asked. Tai chuckles.

“I just haven’t been sleeping. There isn’t any lady, Alex.” Alex is seemingly unconvinced. “You’ve been sat there with goo-goo eyes for like, ten minutes! Just spill already!”

Tai was crushing on a girl she barely even knew. Too cliche to be real, right? She worked at a florist shop. They’d had regular customers but this girl, she was different. She had a bright smile, deep coils, and pretty brown skin. She smelled fucking amazing. Enough to make her dizzy. She was drunk just from her scent alone.

And like the loser she was, she stuttered nearly everytime she asked for help. It was pathetic really. She’d only left her with her first name, Sade, on a pickup order sometime next week. And she knew she had to know more about her. Why was she obsessing over her? She didn’t know.

She did know, however, that she needed this woman carnally. She needed to satiate her hunger for her, or else it seemed like she’d die tonight. Of course she wasn’t just gonna blurt out ‘I saw a woman at my job and I’m so obsessed with her that I’m gonna find out everything about her’ because that would certainly raise eyebrows. Instead, she kept it simple.

“I dunno.. kinda just saw a pretty girl. And she’s just clouding my mind.” She shrugs it off, dismissing it. “It’s nothing. Just dazed. That’s all.”

Tai didn’t really leave much room for pushback as usual. “Well, I mean it’s in the air now, what did she look like?” Tai glances over at the fair skinned girl who was currently talking. “Lauren it’s.. really not important. I kinda already forgot. I just remember how she made me feel.”

Lauren cocks her head to one side. “You? Forgetting what a girl looks like?” She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “I’ve heard you describe girls you met years ago in grand detail. There has to be something you can tell us!” 

“Lauren, don’t press the issue. If she says it isn’t important, then it’s not. Drop it.” A girl with long black braids, Niya, chimes in. She narrows her eyes at Lauren, knowing her tendency to drag things out.

The silence was.. pretty fucking awkward. Tension was so thick that it could’ve easily been cut with a knife; a dull one at that. The girls kinda just looked at eachother until Alex tried to cheer them up. Alex shouldn’t be preventing a fight on a day that’s supposed to be about her, but as usual, Lauren doesn’t know when to shut the fuck up. So yeah, shes pretty pissed off about it.

Though the mood had turned sour quickly, Alex tried to salvage it. But none of the other girls would budge. Tai squeezed her hand while holding it, letting her know she was there for her. Alex smiled fondly at her.

Tai found herself traveling off into her own little headspace, only coming out of it when necessary. She didn’t want to think about anything else. Sade was like a sweet angel in her mind — a god even. She’d kill for her, or whatever. As crazy as the thought was, she was willing to give it all up for her; risking it all, that kinda thing.

Tai worshipped this woman like she was the second coming of god. She would’ve gotten on her knees for her, praying to find salvation between her legs.

The thought makes her face a little hot. Nonetheless, she ignores it. The menu was quite basic, seemingly just their own family recipes and whatever. She was usually a picky eater who rarely switched it up. She always stuck to chicken tenders or chicken wings. Seeing a pasta dish on the menu has her intrigued. So she ordered it.

Waiting for the food, they were all still pretty silent. Lauren was texting someone, Niya did the same thing, Alex admires her nails and says something about an after party, and Tai was.. in her own head.

They were beginning to talk a little after getting some food on their stomach, but Tai is still pretty much silent. Surprisingly, the food was good.

She mumbles dude I’m stuffed, while she rests her hands on her lap. “So um, is anyone coming to the after party?” Lauren shakes her head yes, Niya makes up some bullshit excuse about her family, and Tai clears her throat briefly before muttering, “I’m gonna sleep early tonight. I don’t wanna overdo it. I have a loaded day tomorrow.” Alex was obviously bummed out, but understanding.

She didn’t ask about Tais loaded day, as she finished the remnants of her food. Once they fall silent again, Tai goes back into her mind. How stupid of her was it to start daydreaming at her friends birthday party about someone? Having raunchy daydreams at that. 

Alex was obviously super sad. Judging from her expression, she was on the verge of tears. Tai had gifted her an assortment of her favorite flowers and a card with a couple dollars. Her handwriting was shaky as always, leaving a note that says “You’re the coolest fucking person ever. You can do literally anything. Enjoy your birthday!”, then signing her name and the year. 

She wishes she could make this day better but she didn’t know how to. She feels bad. But she doesn’t know what to say to her. She kinda just looks at her before leaning back against the faux leather of the red booth.

Even with all the remorse in the world, she couldn’t care enough to keep falling in the same train of thought. She was bouncing her leg impatiently, fiddling with her carabiner while waiting. They seemed to just be engaging in small talk now.

The girls had ordered another round of food, opting for dessert. Tai usually doesn’t eat it because she never did, she thinks it’s pointless and she wasn’t raised on dessert. The concept was almost foreign to her.

She grew restless with each growing second. She was hoping for anything to draw her away from this. A text message, an email, even a call from her job. She would’ve been willing to accept it (despite her usually silencing the calls). But that would’ve only happened in some perfect world — one that she didn’t live in right now. 

Right now, she hates the sound of all chatter, all noise, and all the other people around her. Call her crazy, but shes just in love with a stranger. Tai could just up and leave right now without a word, but she doesn’t. She wants to be somewhat there for Alex. Her mind had been elsewhere, but that was quickly changed.

Niya pokes her. “Tai, I was wondering if you could come over this weekend? We can go to that record store you like.” She proposes. The idea did seem pleasing. Niya was smiling at her, her gaze lingering.

“I’d love to but I’m.. busy. Some stuff at the shop. We’re gonna be short staffed. Sorry.” She chuckles awkwardly. She just told a bold face lie. She, in fact, wouldn’t be busy. She had to find her girl. “Oh, well maybe I could swing past? I’ll cook lunch for you—“ “No! That’s uh, it’s okay, Niya. Really.” She sounds too adamant at the end of her sentence so her voice lowered.

Tai gently rubs her knuckles with her thumb. Niya was obviously disappointed but she didn’t seem to care much. Either way, she had an eventful weekend all to herself.

The next few minutes they spent together rolls by begrudgingly slowly. The slight tension makes her wanna be swallowed by a sinkhole. It was Lauren and Niya at it again. They were arguing over nothing. And Alex was definitely regretting this.

So she cuts it short. Lauren, of course, does not pay her part of the bill and everyone else does. Alex pays extra because Lauren “was invited” so it was “on her”. Lauren leaves wordlessly, leaving Niya and Alex grumbling about what a bitch she was. They weren’t that far off.

Tai leaves as quickly as she arrived. She could finally breathe. Playing some playlist she’d made at 3AM some years ago, she only had one goal once she arrived home — to investigate. 

[kailysander]

Do you have any thoughts about what some of the GH characters sound like?

THIS is always a super difficult question for me to answer since I’m more aware of the characters phonetic habits than their actual voices. I’ll try my best (and also to explain what exactly stands out) but take these with a grain of salt since they don’t really account for tone!

-

Lorne: Denial You Win Again- The Buttertones

Lorne’s voice tends to be a little on the “darker” end, slightly throaty. His words often feel like they are being pulled from him with a bit of reluctance, and syllables sometimes seem stacked together rather than flowing together as a single word. This “reluctant” pattern often causes him to lean into his “R”s, which can sometimes come off like a mild snarl (this is more apparent in standard "R"s vs rolled).

Lorne, later in the story: The Pact -- Villagers

This one has a lot less context to comic readers, but his voice becomes a lot softer and whisper-toned after um. Some years of mutism. Retains phonetic patterns otherwise. 

Vasariah: To My Enemies— Saint Motel + Wraith Pinned to the Mist and Other Games— Of Montreal

Vasariah is a strange case because he tends to pick up the speech patterns of whoever he is talking to at the moment. Tone wise, I think he sounds relatively androgynous, with a slightly masculine lean (though could easily be conceived as a deeply voiced woman.)

He tends to speak with a tongue-in-cheek attitude, which I think is fairly captured in the Saint Motel song. 

However, his phonetic patterns are quite variable. I think he talks as if there is a small ball of air at the roof of his mouth, and occasionally slip and speak in other peoples voices/multiple voices at once, the mood of which is captured more in the Of Montreal song, particularly the way "Antartica" is vocalized.

He tends to also use the English marginal segment "X" in place of hard Cs/Ks (like in Loch Ness).

Buer: I Should Not Be Seeing You — Connie Conway

Literally. Connie Conway with a thick Italian accent. His voice is fairly refined, and has the guttural qualities you would expect of a lion-man.

Kazimir: Hey Me —Tremantis

Czech accent. He’s just a guy; there’s a direct/confrontational nature to his voice and it is is often very monotone. This "claim" is on the looser end.

Erlea: Fly in My Room — Kerrin Connolly

I’m gonna be honest I don’t really know how to describe this type of voice. Deeper but recognizably feminine, with slightly raspy tones. She doesn’t have a very wide vocal range, and her she sometimes speaks very quickly so all of her words string together into one (happens more often when she is joking or saying an aside).

Azrael: I’m so sorry he sounds like Shigure Sohma from Fruits Basket. 

Tonally speaking, probably a bit deeper. His voice has a sing-song quality to it, often standing in juxtaposition to (and therefore amplifying) threatening or otherwise cruel statements. It is also quite friendly, for the periods in time in which he is also a friendly and comforting presence. 

He also tends to talk like a guy who is hm... Very assured in his own attractiveness. I could link out to some Italian chefs that talk this way but I wont bother you with them LOL

No accent-- As a general cosmopolitan his accent is adjusted to whatever language he is speaking, whatever the local dialect may be.

Charlie: Karen, You’re an Angel — Sleeping in the Aviary

This “voice claim” is pretty loose, kind of based on vibes alone. New Jersey accent with the general vocal patterns of someone who died in the 1940s. Mid-toned voice.

Satan: Inconceivable to try to find a claim, sorry! His voice is deep, but retains a feminine quality phonetically. It harkens back to an older time, as if certain parts of his construction of language have not developed linearly with the evolution of language (globally). Often has a mild echo to it.  

I can offer you La Ciruela by Nico Play, but it is really just that feeling this song evokes in me is similar to what I would imagine Satan's voice evoking.

Fidelia: Stone Wall Stone Fence — Gregory and the Hawk

This is probably the only genuine voice claim here. This is what I think her singing voice would sound like.  She has a young, higher toned voice.

-

This was fun! Let me know if there's anyone I didn't mention that you're curious about (OR if you have any voice claim headcanons that would also be super cool to hear!!)

[wolfmoonmusic]

Hello !! Congrats on 200 <3 I adore your writing, it literally fuels my daydreams ^^

I’d like to request a Sailboat for your event !! Specifically for Harry Potter, or just the young Marauders

- I am arospec & queer. I don’t experience romantic attraction but I love the idea of a relationship. I love having a person who is committed to you & also some relationship stuff like cuddling and dates is nice to me :^) This is something important to me that I would tell my partner just to make sure we’re on the same page. I don’t have any gender preferences for dating

- I use all pronouns with a slight preference towards they/them

- I am pale, lanky, and like to think I’m androgynous looking. I have shoulder length brown hair with white streaks in the front and bangs. I have brown eyes, freckles, heavy eye bags, and wear glasses almost always. I dress in a lot of big sweaters, long skirts, and hand me down t shirts + baggy pants.

- In general I’m extremely shy and can come off a little cold to people who don’t know me well just because I’m very awkward and do not know how to talk to people at all. I don’t make friends easily but when I do I am very talkative and lively around them. My humor is pretty sarcastic yet lighthearted, I also laugh way too easily. I am a little nerdy about my interests (fantasy, sharks, & crochet) and will gladly ramble to anyone who‘ll listen. I have a hard time understanding social cues and can be seen as very odd. I’m very caring towards my friends and put them before all else, even myself most times. I can be a pushover and have a very difficult time standing up for myself, I hate confrontation and will suffer if it means I don’t have to talk to someone but I will stand by my morals and speak up when I feel something is truly wrong. I’m a huge crybaby, I will literally cry at any little thing but I don’t really see it as a bad thing necessarily, that’s just how I release negative emotions. I’ve been described as timid, empathetic, kindhearted, and a good listener. I’ve also been compared to the main (human) character of Ratatouille an oddly high amount of times ??

- My giving love language is quality time, I love spending time with my loved ones even when we’re just sat in comfortable silence. I also love giving gifts, I crochet and make jewelry for others quite often. My receiving love language is preferably words of affection and physical touch <3

I think that’s all I meant to include !!

Also !! Could I submit a sailboat for more than one fandom? I was fr struggling to decide which one to submit this for. If yes, should I just send the same description with the other fandom? And if it’s only one fandom that’s completely fine !!

- 👾

*gasps* emojis for anons YES

Please continue to do so.

And of course you can ask for more than one fandom. Since I've got an identification mark now you can just send in the other fandom, no need for details.

Anywaysss your current sailboat request:

James was relentless, something about you had piqued his interest after you'd gotten sorted into Gryffindor and he wouldn't leave you alone

So, eventually, you started becoming friends

James always gets on your nerves in class, and you always tried to get him to shut up for just once

"Shut up James!"

"Mr/Mrs. L/N. Please get out of my class and take Mr.Potter with you"

"I'm so mad at you right now"

But James thinks you look cute when your angry or pissed off so he doesn't mind (just makes the face he does in the gif)

You told the Marauders about your sexuality right after Remus's first episode that you all handled together, because that night just brought you all together.

James didn't mind

When he does ask you out, you say yes of course

He's very touchy, so he's always holding your hand or showing affection in other physical ways

You spend almost the entire day together, even sneaking into each other's dorms for the night

You crochet him stuff and he cherishes it almost as much as he cherishes you

He's very protective you

He knows when you're having a bad day and he's always right there right before you breakdown

All in all, he's literally the perfect boyfriend.

[starscelly]

anyone want an essay on how i think/interpret Miro as just a Guy rather than miro the player, wrote on 23hrs of no sleep and having not read it over once since? bon appetite.

so. if you know/follow me you know i am a Big miro heiskanen guy. occasionally to a deranged level. and as much as i feel the need to scream about him every .5 seconds i do in fact have to confess. i have no fucking idea what his personality is. like he’s so insanely quiet and/or professional in everything he does that im like ok, but who the hell is miro the Guy.

and initially i put all of this on language barrier stuff - typically, guys who have super strong accents or not the best english tend to be more comfortable in interviews with their first language. and miro for sure is! but it’s not stuff you couldn’t pick up on from his english interviews or even watching him on the ice. whether its in finnish, english, or the universal body language, at first look miro is a pretty standard hockey player: he’s pretty quiet, has no problem chirping the guys in his circle, and is nauseatingly humble. he stumbles through the same interview clichés, he doesn’t go out of his way to pick fights or get physical - will typically avoid it, even - and he doesn’t tend to get super yappy towards other players or refs. if a little scrum doesn’t directly involve him, he’ll skate in to get his guy or break it up, but he almost never even Looks at what’s happening (i’ve noticed he just looks down at the ice a lot if he has to step into commotion near the net or anything). like he is the most normal, boring man in the world seemingly. minus a few more yappy angry moments this season. he just seems happy to be here and ruin the lives of the opposing team all the while being like :| :\ !!!

but like. obviously i would not be making this post if thats all i had to say lol. when i’ve heard the term “quiet confidence” used to describe guys its… well its quiet in the way every hockey player HAS to be quiet. like they’re quietly confident because they know if they go in front of the media and say they know how amazing they are, someone online will immediately call them full of themselves and talk shit and scrutinize. the sport is team-first occasionally to a fault, we all know this. but if the behavior of a lot of guys in this league can be described as quiet confidence? miro’s confidence is silent. everyone on this team will talk about how they’ll lay down their lives for him. kill for him, probably. but you will almost definitely not directly hear the words “i am the best defenseman” coming from his mouth, no matter the context.

but you do, you do hear hints of it if you really listen. you hear it in the “i know when i play well” line he gave razor. you hear it in the not hesitating or being nervous to say “i was happy with my defense. it was defensively my best season”. you hear it in that one postgame where he says he had robo swap places with him because miro knew he was a stronger skater and would do better going backwards. you see it in the way he saw the panic from losing one of their highest scoring defensemen, their “top dog” dman, and can tell in the change in his play that he just knew he had to take up the mantle, he was gonna be The Guy with nobody else to fall back on, there couldn’t possibly be another option. and he’s succeeded TREMENDOUSLY at this, for the record. i’m sure there are others for it, but i feel like one of the reasons he never gets big with cellying is because he thinks he just did what was expected of him, why would he go crazy over something he knew he could do. in an nhlwam he talked about scoring more this season (outright saying he needed to be better about getting points for the norris btw) not as if it was a goal to work towards, but as if it was something set in stone, definitely going to happen. hell, even when hes getting chirped (by calling him attractive. a very hockey chirping) for looking like leonardo dicaprio, he doesn’t default to “ahhh nooo…” or “yeah right”, he says “no, nobody made fun of it. i guess they liked the pictures”. it’s never loud, he’s never boasting, he’s just very sure in his own abilities and doesn’t feel the need to brag about things he thinks should be expected for him anyways, or things he already knows he’s good at. like its a given. silent confidence.

i think it’s very very easy when guys are as quiet as miro is to write them off as. i dont want to talk specifically abt fic characterization so know that that’s not the context of how im talking abt this lol i just cant think of a better word. but its easy to act like he’s “submissive” almost. like i feel like there’s this underlying narrative of allowing himself to get pushed around by older defensemen and whatever. but i dont see that? not in that like. i think there’s fights in the fuckin locker room or something. but i get the vibe if he wanted to say something, he would. we’ve seen him yap at refs when absolutely necessary (hell. we saw him hit one and get away with it somehow lmfao), i personally can’t stop thinking of the lack of hesitation from him to call out / make fun of suter in an interview with kivi (in a lighthearted way, on a non-hockey related matter but still an embarrassing one tbh).

i feel like we all get this idea in our heads when people are placed in positions like his - initially as second priority to klinger, and then constantly being stuck with a liability on his d pairing - that they probably just get like. "oh this sucks, but i cant pick a fight about it, for team dynamics/coach respect/whatever". but i do think miro just. genuinely is not worried with it. he knows his own ability and cannot be bothered by whatever else is around him. which im not saying as a defense of the some of the…. defensive coaching decisions. but i do seriously think he doesn’t even care. not in an apathetic way, but in a complete confidence that he’ll be able to handle whatever it is way.

[literaturewithliz]

Hi dear! Could I possibly get a Harry Potter and/or Bridgerton matchup? It would really brighten my day <3 Starting of with the fact that I am bisexual, so you can literally match me w/ anyone and I will be screaming out of happiness, love and excitement haha. I go by she/her.

physical description ~ 5’4, longer blonde hair with green bright eyes, sometimes they do look grey. My skin is pale and my face is clean. I use minimalistic makeup and usually plain clothes with some type of statement piece. Typical jeans, with a black shirt and a blazer is standard if I don’t have anything to wear. Always wearing jewelry. ALWAYS. It makes me feel powerful haha.

personality ~ I am a nineteen years old Slytherin with blonde hair n green eyes. My astrology chart is taurus sun, aries moon and cancer rising. Now days, I am an extroverted introvert? I love being around and talking to people, but I think the fear of others judging me might make my uncomfortable in some situations. My friends describe me as intelligent, which I can agree on partly. I’m like a sponge to new information and I love learning. I have a HUGE ambition. I always find a way to achieve my goals. I have a feeling there’s a chance I’m stone faced in public and people see me as moody and cold. A giant flaw is how much I’m complaining, however, I am doing my best being positive. Though I am a natural pessimist. I brag to much and I can’t stop myself. My MBTI type is INTP. I am loyal and always there for my friends. My humor is SO BAD HAHA. As dry as plain flour. It’s terribly dark as well. Stubborn as hell. Doing my best to be well spoken and look educated to the outside. Overachiever is my first name.

Hobbies/likes ~ Reading and self care mostly. I have a huge interest in psychology, history, true crime and philosophy. I can spend HOURS researching it. Obsession w/ horror movies and scary themed stuff. Always been, always will. I’m a magnet to the darker stuff I guess. Love shopping and as weird as it sounds, studying. I have a dream of traveling to plenty of countries. I enjoy cooking :) Family is so important to me as well as it is a safety in life. Partying is fun.

Love language ~ WORDS. Write a poem to me and I am on the floor. Say the three words “I love you” and I’m on the floor again. Compliments. Love ‘em. Also physical touch 😮‍💨

That’s about is I assume. Have an amazing day or night, where ever you are in this world. Thank you in advance!!

Thank you for the request!

Bridgerton

I match you with Eloise Bridgerton!

I think y’all have a lot in common with your interests! I think she loves philosophy and words as much as you, and loves having intelligent conversations with you. Her love language is definitely words like yours. I think she adores your ambition, and finds it very attractive. I think she relates to the way you seem cold and unapproachable in public, and you two are each other’s safe space both in public and behind walls. I think she finds it very easy to be real and earnest with you, as you don’t shy away from the more difficult or scary aspects of life. I think she also relates with your stubbornness too, haha. I think she shares a lot of hobbies and interests with you, such as traveling and studying. I don’t think she’s much of a chef or horror fan, but she supports you passions as much as you do hers.

Harry Potter

I match you with Ron Weasley!

I think Ron adores your intellect and ambition. While you don’t have much in common, I think you two would be very good for each other. I think your pessimistic outlook goes well with his hope-for-the-best point of view. You help him see logic, and he helps you relax. He despises studying, but is willing to go if it means he can spend time with you. I think one of his life missions is to make you more comfortable in public. Ron, like most of the Weasleys, loves parties and people and socializing. While he understands that there are sometimes where you just don’t feel like it, he will take any opportunity to take you out and show you off when your up for it. I think he disagrees with your opinion on your humor. He adores it, and loves to make you laugh in turn. I don’t think words are Ron’s strong suit, he’s more of an actions guy. However, he will spend all night looking up sweet and romantic words to put in a poem for you, as he knows you adore them, and he wants you to be proud of him, like he is of you.

Other possible matches: Benedict Bridgerton, Hermione Granger

[blue-eyed-bloodstains]

What kind of movies are you drawn to? horror for sure, thriller and suspense, love a good comedy too...drama...pretty much anything but horror is my biggest one How often do you update your Facebook status? rarely actually make a status, I’m constantly just resharing shit like I do on here What would you like best about living in New York City? I don’t live there, never have so I wouldn’t know but I’ve visited a couple times and I can tell the traffic would drive me fucking out of my mind considering I love to drive just to clear my mind, let alone trying to get anywhere on time...the insane prices of even trying to live there are a big reason I don’t too. What’s the main reason why you use a laptop/pc? out of boredom, to distract, for music... What do you think the world needs more of? respect, common courtesy and decency, easier access to being able to live comfortably rather than paycheck to paycheck in debt scared you can’t pay the bills..

What type of pet would you like to have? I’ve owned pretty much everything you can get your hands on...but I wouldn’t mind owning a bunny.  How do you feel about mornings? hate em, I’ve never been a morning person and I’m usually up all night into morning anyway given insomnia/night owl so yeah What breakfast are you most likely to have? bacon. anything bacon. and when I have the chance, pork roll sandwich What type of day do you like more? to maybe for once not have any drama or fighting or loneliness or being violently sick? that’s way too much to ask though Your social life is: nonexistent What career field could you see yourself in? that’s hard cause it’s switched a few times over the years...still wanna get into some form of journalism for sure, maybe being a crime reporter since i live mostly on crime shows/docs... When you’re starting to feel sick, you: pray this round won’t land me dehydrated in the ER as usual.. Which city would you rather relax in? somewhere closer to access places I may need, with more people around I guess...somewhere where I have him with me and he’s not constantly gone leaving me alone with the cat... What would you enjoy most about being a vampire? how easy it would be to kill myself. just go outside during the day. What colors are you most drawn to? earth tones, darker colors What flavor ice cream would you prefer? banana split You rather have lunch at: depends on what I’m tasting Your oldest friend would describe you as: stubborn You are attracted to homes that are: not too big but just right, quaint, definitely would love a backyard or pool (especially both), with certain amenities like dishwasher/washer/dryer/mostly floorboards for easier maintenance... What deadly sin are you most likely to commit? sloth What section do you drift toward at bookstores? young adult novels Are you a thinker or a feeler? both to extremes  Would you rather go to a festival or a book reading? depends what type of festival, say wine tasting or one with a concert and alcohol Are you more into drama or comedy? comedy Do you prefer to lounge in a hot tub or swim in a pool? I like both but pool for sure so I don’t get too overheated Can you roll your tongue? yeah but I can’t do the shamrock/clover thing  You are more likely to stop wearing something because? it gets ruined? Have you ever smoked pot? yeah Do you speak a second language? no I wish How many books do you have out in the public areas of your house? a few What three words best describe you? insecure, neurotic, stubborn What two elements are you most comfortable with? air and earth I guess Your relationships tend to be: depends on who and what the relationship is...complicated for the most part Who makes a better burger, in your opinion? my dad makes a mean burger on the grill...as far as restaurants? there’s a few local places that make a killer burger compared to usual fast food places Where would you most like to spend Christmas vacation? somewhere warm, I hate the snow For you, snow means: cold hell What do you like best about the holidays? most of the time they suck and have for a long time so...I’d say the food You think your eyes convey: everything I hold in... Besides screaming for ice cream, what else do you scream for? alcohol. depression. usual screaming matches with mom. Favorite summer scent? the breeze at the ocean, grilling/barbecues, fresh mowed grass, the flowers, chlorine of a pool Do you listen to Billy Ray Cyrus? no Do you know how to shoot a shotgun? yeah Do you like fried chicken? hell yeah

[kooktrash]

14 and jk pls

okay bestie, 14: sleepover and decide to play t or d BUT WITH A TWIST. I got inspo from the CUT game Truth Or Drink, but anyways. hope you like it. omg I’m scared

summary: you’ve been friends with Jungkook for months now, a severe thunderstorm and a drinking game blurs the lines between friendship and more.

warning(s): mature language, college friends, drinking, jungkook is a bit flirty, some of the questions are dirty, implied smut, friends with feeling. Plot with little porn.

truth or drink | jeon jungkook

- “The weather app sucks ass,” he huffed, staring out the window into the thunderstorm waiting for him outside. His eyes shifted down to the app, which changed from a warm night to showcasing clouds of gray and thunder on his screen.

“Severe Thunder Storm warning, if you are from any of the following districts, blah blah blah, remain sheltered from the time being until 6:45am the following day,” you read the weather alert out loud. Jungkook looked back at you, “Um what? I live clear across town, how the hell am I gonna get through that?”

It was true. Your dear friend lived far from your place, and the original plan for the two of you tonight was to study for your Psych exam and then go out for drinks with your friends. It had already been a struggle trying to get him to study, but now he was in an even worse mood because you weren’t going to be able to go out drinking. “Just sleepover crybaby,” you rolled your eyes making yourself comfortable on your couch, “Let’s drink or something.”

“Just us two?” He gnawed on his bottom lip nervously stepping away from the window and looking down at you, “Won’t it be boring?”

“Jieun’s got some drinking games here somewhere, check the media console,” you instructed him, stretching lazily as you pushed yourself up again, “I’ll go find something to drink for us. I think we still have some bottles of Soju laying around.”

“Truth or Drink, what the fuck is that?” Jungkook asked, scooting next to you on the coffee table as he held a little white box. Upon opening it he was met with four different card deck boxes, he read them carefully, “Which one should we do?”

He read the box, Last Call, eyes skimming the quick summary on the back, “Warning, do not play these questions unless it’s very late and you’ve got nothing to lose. Let’s play this one. Wait but it says three or more people.”

You poured Soju into two small glasses, “Yeah it’s to help find winners because the dealer has to choose between two answers. But let’s just play it a different way, there’s usually two questions on a card, we choose the best one, ask the other person and if they can’t answer they drink. And then we can ask the second question if we want to.”

“I need a beginner’s drink real quick,” he chugged down the liquor set in front of them, urging you to do the same, “I want to go first. I just have to pick a card from the pile and ask you?”

You nodded, setting two small piles on the table and waiting for him to decide which one he wants to ask. His eyes widened, “Oh fuck, these questions are heavy. First one and it’s already a lot. Um anyways,” he shook his head as if giving himself motivation, “Does our relationship bring out the best in you? In me? If not, why?”

You thought about it for a moment, “I think, we bring out the best in each other. You’re my best friend and you make me laugh easily and always make me feel comfortable and not a lot of people make me feel that way. I do think I am a better person because of our friendship.”

He wiped at his eye, pretending to shed a tear, “That was beautiful. Okay hurry up, ask me something.” He set the card to the side, waiting patiently for you to choose one. You laughed reading the question, “Who is in control of our relationship?”

“Fuck you, you know you are,” Jungkook huffed crossing his arms in front of him, “Everybody calls me your little puppy. I have separation anxiety it is not my fault.” The two of you chuckled, you watched him reach into the deck again, brows arching as he read, “What am I the most ignorant about?”

You debated answering. There were a few things your friend was ignorant about but you weren’t sure how to say it. In reality the two of you had barely been friends for a little over a year and though you hung out all the time you weren’t sure you were ready to have any deeper conversations. You reached for your drink, taking a drink swiftly ignoring the way his jaw dropped to the floor, “Don’t play with me, answer.”

“I can’t,” you shrugged, “I already took a drink. It’s Truth or Drink, not Truth and Drink.” He leaned forward a little, pout evident on his face, “Please. Please just answer this one. This is the only one I’ll ask you to do.”

“Fine!” You groaned throwing yourself back onto the pillow you set behind you, “I think you can be ignorant when it comes to your looks.” His brows furrowed, turning toward you, tempted to lay down as well. “I mean,” you thought for a moment, “Everyone knows you’re an attractive guy, except you. You’re always complaining about being single or lonely. And I know a ton of girls who’d kill to go on a date with you.”

“Wait,” he shook his head trying to process the information, “You think I’m attractive?” You rolled your eyes, sitting back up with a sigh, “That wasn’t part of the question. My turn.”

You sighed, reading the question out loud, “Do I often seem like I’m being fake?”

He thought for a moment, “Yes. Sometimes I feel like, you don’t really want to be friends with me, or that I annoy you and you just don’t know how to tell me to leave you alone. Or that you just keep me around because you’re bored.”

“Aw,” you frowned, “Oh my god, Kook I’m sorry I make you feel that way. I promise our friendship is 100% real and I am not being fake about it at all.” He smiled widely looking over to the other decks, picking the red one up, “Extra Dirty, let’s play it.”

“No,” you groaned as he changed the mood in the room rather quickly with his distracted mind. He ignored you reading the summary, “Sex, drugs, and rock n roll. All the questions your dark subconscious wants to ask your friends. Yeah let’s play it, the other deck was getting too emotional, can we do this one instead?”

“Fine but if it’s anything too weird I’m just drinking,” you told him. He nodded understandingly as he reached for a card, choking on his own spit for a minute before an evil smile came to his face, “What’s something you wish your ex would have done sexually, but didn’t?”

Fuck. Of course he’d be smiling at this question. Jungkook absolutely hated your ex boyfriend, Hobi. He thought he was rude and sexist and you had to agree just a little. You were friends with Hobi now but he wasn’t the best in a relationship. “Fuck,” you bit your lower lip in concentration, “I’ll tell you but this stays between you and I.”

He stuck his pinky finger out, locking it with yours as he waited eagerly for your answer. You weren’t going to pussy out of a question again so you were just going to say it. “He could never make me cum from eating me out, like never, not even with his fingers,” you hurriedly covered your face with your hands embarrassment filling you as it sat quietly on Jungkook’s end. The breakup was fairly recent so it was still a little awkward and the few hook ups you ve had since then sucked ass. “My turn,” you reached for a card taking his silence as a sign of awkwardness.

Huffing, you read carefully, “Do you find me physically attractive? What if I bat my eyelashes like this?” You did as the card said, batting your lashes at him with innocent and big eyes. He sat for a moment, “Most definitely, he said quickly grabbing another card, “You’re unbelievably attractive. Anyways.”

You could see his tongue push against his cheek, brows knitted together, “What’s your most complimented anatomical feature as described by your lovers?”

You chuckled lightly, “Realistically? Probably my chest.” You caught the way his eyes lingered down for a moment, face softening as he nodded his head. You giggled looking down at the card you just picked from the pile, “Are you loud during sex? Demonstrate with a dramatic interpretation of your signature sounds.”

“I’m drinking,” he mumbled but you shook your head laughing. “No no, you had me answer a question after I drank so I’m gonna do the same. I really want to hear what you got.” He groaned, covering his face in his hands, “Give me a minute, let me take this drink first.”

“Okay so,” he cleared his throat, “I wouldn’t say I’m loud, but I’m not quiet either. I think it also depends on what we’re doing. I’m louder when I’m getting my dick sucked, and it kinda sounds like, um,” he paused for a second. Breathing getting heavier as he began to show you, his mouth fell open, small whines leaving his lips followed by a couple grunts, “Fuck! Okay I’m done. Let me pick a damn card.”

You bursted out laughing as his ears turned a dark red. “It’s getting serious,” you giggled not noticing the way his embarrassed expression turned into a sly smirk, “Got your ass bestie, now it’s your turn. Give a passionate example of your dirty talk.”

You threw yourself back dramatically, debating on taking a drink or not. He smiled, “If you drink you’re a pussy.” “Fine hold on,” you say up scooting closer to him. Clearing your throat, you touched his shoulder lightly, bringing yourself closer to his ear too scared to say it loud so you chose to whisper instead. “You have really pretty hands Kook,” you started. He tensed underneath you for a moment, “I wouldn’t mind having them wrapped around my neck here and there.” Maybe it was the liquor already in your system but this wasn’t as embarrassing as you thought it’d be, and the goosebumps on his skin were making you want to say just a little bit more before it ended.

“And your fingers are so long and pretty,” you looked down at his tattooed hand, “I wonder how they’d feel all over me— Okay I’m done! My turn,” you grabbed a card, ignoring his silent stance. “If we were in a porn together, what category would it be under?”

He cleared his throat sitting straighter as he recollected himself, “Probably something along the lines of, ‘College Hunk Destroys Bratty Girl’ yeah that’d definitely be it.”

“You’re annoying,” you rolled your eyes as he went on for his turn, reading it loudly, “Are you a good kisser? If so, demonstrate.”

“It does not say that,” you muttered. You knew for a fact it didn’t. When Jieun got the game the two of you read every card in every deck and none of them were that suggestive. They said crazy things but nothing that involved intimate physical contact with someone else playing. “It does,” Jungkook said as matter-of-fact. “Okay then show me where it says that.”

“No.”

“Then you’re a liar,” you reached for the card but he held it away, “If you’re a bad kisser just say that Y/n.”

“I’m not!” You whined stretching forward for the card, hand pushing in his knee. He smiled at you, holding the card high as your faces were just a mere inches away from each other, “Well then demonstrate or take the L.” You sighed, hands using his legs to push yourself forward. He stared down at you, arm slowly lowering but his grip on the card was tight in case you tried snatching it out. You looked down at his parted and waiting lips, debating if you should actually go for it.

You were both a little tipsy, and you could always just blame your kiss on the alcohol. It wasn’t like you never thought about Jungkook in that way but you did your best to keep it as a simple friendship. Getting the courage, your back arched slightly as you leaned up to connect your lips with his softly. It was a soft kiss, his lips mets yours immediately going in for it. It wasn’t anything special but he was very obviously a good kisser. When you felt him dip in to further the kiss you attempted to pull away, his following lips going after you. Before you could catch your breath after your separation, his hand dropped the card, Both hands flying to your jaw and cupping your face in his hands as he pulled you in again.

You fell forward, hands gripping his shoulders to steady yourself. His large hands were soft, the pad of his thumbs caressing your cheeks as he pushed his tongue against you. You opened your mouth a little more allowing him access. Your could hear buzzing in the back, but as you tried to pull away, Jungkook only held you closer. You didn’t mind though, if you would’ve known kissing your best friend felt this good, you might’ve tried it sooner. His hands trailed down to your waist, pulling you swiftly onto his lap, as he leaned back against the legs of the couch. You pressed yourself closer deepening the kiss as your hands grinned onto his hair lightly. His hands brushed your sides and under your shirt. His cold hands on your bare stomach surprised you, the hand gripping a lock of hair pulled causing him to let out a breathy groan.

He pushed you down onto the floor, hovering above you as he wrapped your legs around his waist. His hands pushed your shirt up, kisses trailing down your jaw and neck, “If you don’t want this, tell me now because I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop.”

“I want you,” you told him as he looked down at you with doe eyes. “I want you too.”

yoongi: i got locked out of my place. ur at y/n’s right? can I come over?

yoongi: hellooooo

yoongi: ANSWER YOUR PHONE

yoongi: if I catch a cold I’m suing fat

A/n OKAY LISTEN. I wanted to put smut in but I wasn’t sure if you’d be comfortable with that so I chose not to. I hope you like it, and I can always do a Drabble with smut if that’s something you want. Thank you for requesting bestie, and DONT BE SHY

[hotwings0203]

An Ode to the Unseen

Thinkin about readers who feel self conscious, readers who feel like they’re not happy with their weight, readers who don’t feel girly enough or feel too vulnerable because of whatever height they’re at. I’m thinkin about readers who suffer from body dysmorphia, who shy away from looking at themselves in the mirror to avoid seeing their scars, body hair or acne. This is for the readers who feel too submissive and feel like a pushover in their lives, and this is for the readers who feel like they’re too fiesty and not soft enough. It doesn’t matter if you feel like you can’t relate to the stereotypical tropes in writing, or if you feel like you can’t act like a perfectly constructed Y/N in real life, this ones for you💖

A/N: Hello to all reading! I made this on a whim just to tackle some of the insecurities lesser described characters in stories might feel, but this is in no way meant to exclude anyone at all! We all have beautiful bodies, and should own up to it even if we don’t always see the problems we face in writing. Some of these topics might be sensitive to readers or trigger memories that might be disturbing to others, so please heed the warnings! Also the Hawks prompt at the end gets pretty nsfw, so heads up for that hehe

CW: dubcon, manipulating, fluff, slight angst, EDs, body dysmorphia, kidnapping, abuse, degradation, some nsfw, yandere, language, insecurity

You’re ever feeling not particularly happy with your face or body because of an acne breakout, or a rash that won’t go away? Maybe a birthmark that you try to cover up with makeup? Even stretch marks or scars from surgery?

You can bet your ass shigaraki will notice the way you can barely glance at the mirror some days just so you don’t have to see your own reflection when it’s time to go to bed with him.

His obvious and intense stare makes you fidget and gets your skin crawling, but he says nothing that night when he holds you a little too tightly-tighter than most nights he’s with you. The sound of his raspy breaths lulls you to sleep, but when you wake up he’s already gone, out on another mission or at a meeting with the Yakuza.

You feel groggy and gross, and going to the bathroom just to look in the mirror again to see whatever ails your body and/or face does nothing to stop your groan of misery.

You do your business all while turning away from your reflection, not wanting to see a second more of your discontentment staring right back at you while you wash your face, brush your teeth, and meticulously do your hair.

Finally making your way downstairs to the bar, you sit on one of the barstools and hold your head in your hands, not wanting to meet anyone’s gaze and no doubt seeing their disgust at your ailment.

But you look up when a soft whirring sound and purple-black tendrils of smoke appear before you

“Young master L/N,” Kurogiri says. “Have you been feeling alright? You retired earlier last night and had the most uncomfortable of expressions on your face, I couldn’t help but notice.”

No matter how much you despised or were wary of Tomura, you knew his caretaker, Kurogiri, had your back. He was respectful of your space, and if he knew you weren’t in the mood for talking then he wouldn’t push you

And so you told him your predicament, opening up about your problem spot(s)

“It’s so embarrassing, Kurogiri. I feel gross and I feel like everyone’s looking at me,” you mumble, putting your head down on the cool polished wood countertop.

He’s silent for a moment or two, before the tendrils of his supposed hands warp into a small portals. They appear again immediately, producing a couple of bottles and place them in front of you.

You raise your head slightly at the sound of sloshing liquid and rattling pills as the bottles are lined up before you in an orderly fashion, and you eye them suspiciously.

“What’s this?” You ask, picking up a tube as your curiosity is piqued.

“Young master Tomura Shigaraki had warned me beforehand of your reclusive nature when you ponder on what cannot be controlled, and sent me a list this morning to pick up some medication that might help you, should you need it. He asked me to bring back every item as soon as possible, so you wouldn’t feel the need to procure anything by yourself and strain yourself unnecessarily.”

You scoff, not buying the surprising act of affection. “So, what, he’s just doing this so he doesn’t have to look at my disgusting (body part of choice) anymore? He wants to come back and see some perfectly molded pet to stare at all day?”

Kurogiri shakes his head, however.

“I know how the young master is perceived to many: abrasive, immature, and brash in his thoughts and actions. He has a long way to go in terms of maturing in the way he views things, and unfortunately he was not blessed with…the best of upbringings, so he truly doesn’t know any better, as you already know.”

You wince internally, feeling slightly guilty now.

“But,” he continues slowly, “he was not born with evil in his heart. He’s just bitter with society, and is desperate for others to know his pain and see the world for what it really is towards those who are suffering. That’s why he is so taken with you, young L/N. Before you came here, he observed your mannerisms and was thoroughly attracted to the way you could see through people’s surface level facades. Although your views on the world may differ here and there, he is desperate to show you that he understands your suffering, and that he’s there for you-“

“-yeah, well, he has a funny way of showing it,” you mutter darkly, memories of chains and dark rooms and various marks on your body flashing through your mind. Even if Kurogiri was telling the truth, it would take some time for you to come around and even begin to try to give yourself to Shigaraki. He was just too volatile, too rough and negligent of your wants and needs. He lashed out at everything you did, and made you feel like nothing you ever did was enough to please his shifty nature.

“Yes, I can understand you bitter feelings towards him,” the black and purple mass hummed in thought. “I have tried explaining how a human girl is to be treated, however, and he is slowly trying to learn. I feel as though he may feel embarrassed at times from his lack of knowledge at such simple social norms, and that is another factor of his frequent temper tantrums. He might be the leader of a powerful villain organization, but when he realizes he has no knowledge of making friends or keeping relationships, it’s an embarrassing blow to his ego. Especially with you, he is especially sentimental and touchy regarding topics that pertain to you. He often will sit here in silence after you two have a, uh, little spat, and hesitantly will seek my advice on how to make things up to you. ”

And you realize with a grimace that he’s right-there are days after you both have a big blowout(usually over the most pettiest of things, maybe you turned away from him while sleeping and he took it as a sign of disobedience, or maybe you didn’t greet him when he came back from an especially tiring mission and he used that opportunity to take his pent up stress out on you) that he’ll come back after storming out of the room only to creep back in hours later with various trinkets in his hand.

You’d be alerted of his presence when the pitch black room is blessed with a yellow ray of light from the opening creaky door as he enters, and you will yourself to continue breathing slowly, as if you were still asleep. But he’s so quiet and stealthy as he comes closer to you, it’s hard not to be surprised and flinch or jump when his arm reaches over you just to place one of your favorite snacks on the cracked dresser next to you.

It’s hard to keep your head down on the dusty pillow and keep your curiosity in check when you feel him breathing down your neck as he lays a stuffed animal on the blanket next to you, and you often wonder where he knows to buy such fragile and innocent things.

Your aesthetic that he so closely has memorized from each singular color to the details of your favorite patterns make a stark, disturbing contrast to his greying, deadly aura. It’s almost impressive that he pertains each gift to your taste when he’s feeling especially sorrowful

“But nevertheless, the master has asked me relinquish these to you as soon as you came downstairs. And, just between me and you,” he leans closer and you do too, finding yourself wanting to know this secret side of your captor even further, “he was muttering something as he left, something along the lines of not wanting you to feel like you had to use these products. I think he was trying to say that he never wants you to feel as though you have to make up any part of your body you feel insecure about to him. He wants you to stay the same way you always are, and if you never adjust to your surroundings here, then he at the very least wants you to be comfortable in your own skin, blemishes and all.”

“This may or may not come as a surprise to you, but he himself knows what it’s like to feel insecure about his own skin and body,” and it comes across so ridiculously innocent and striking to you that such a lethal character such as the infamous Shigaraki would have the same problems a normal, functioning member of society would have: skincare and body insecurity. But the lines, scratches, and scars that litter his face can attest to this notion. How often did he himself avoid looking in the mirror for, not wanting to see his translucent skin, the clawmarks that left bright, angry trails up his face and down the sides of his neck, the cracks in and around his lips and eyes? Is that why he left his hair down skit covered his face, and the hand on top covering him whole more often on than not?

And so you finally open the lid to the tube, testing the feel of its contents that promise your mutinous skin some time of relief.

The door suddenly bangs open, and the man of the hour himself slinks in, nails idly scratching the underside of his jaw as he mutters under his breath to himself.

He lifts his head and sees you and kurogiri at the bar, a tube of ointment in your hand , the lid opened in testing as the rest of his presents are in array all around you.

As if you were accepting them.

As if you were accepting him

He feels his face beat up and his deteriorating body starts to prickle and sweat. He merely scratches harder, his mumbling continuing as he slowly makes his way over to you

You watch his little unsure shuffled towards you, and you can’t help it when your heart twinges as you take in his hopeful yet cautious expression, no matter how hard he tries to stifle any vulnerable emotion

So, in a moments decision of truce you quickly lean forward to whisper to Kurogiri one last favor before turning to see a new light of your captor

“Before I go, I need some things from you, please. By tonight, do you think you could pick up some self care things at the corner store for me? I’m talking face masks, lotions, Vaseline, and hair products.”

“I think if I see him accept himself and care for the body he’s in least for one night, I could be happy in my skin, too.”

Feeling conscious about your weight, whether it’s over or under your preferred look? Please, don’t make Kiri laugh at your naivety

You groaned as you stood on the scale, the numbers reading back at you seeming more mocking than simple statistics

You weren’t meeting your preferred weight, and it was beginning to take a harsher toll on you now more than ever with Kiri around all the time

It was easier to ignore it when you lived by yourself in secluded bliss, where the walls of where you lived couldn’t talk or pass judgement about your eating habits, the times you did or didn’t keep up with yourself as months of promising to do the Chloe Ting workouts turned into forgetful reminders that dwindled down into barely passing thoughts.

Where you had your own, carefully chosen friends who could relate and share the secrets of their insecurities, the little area of pudge that just won’t go away, that upper area of their arms of legs that refused to build muscle even after months of eating straight protein and going to the gym.

You got to choose your own happiness, you got to choose if you wanted to spend countless hours scrolling through social media with your coworkers, gazing in envy at the hundreds of models people swooned over, or if you wanted to call it a day and eat a whole bucket of cookies and cream ice cream while watching a sappy rom com, just because it made you happy

But now, not so much

You could tolerate Kiri gradually distancing yourself from friends who he thought didn’t have the “best interests” for you

You could patiently follow the chipper rules of his house to wait for him when he got home, greet him at the door in nice clothes, and sit down to eat dinner with him

You even started getting used to having his eccentric, loud friends over who bustled and teased you around when Kiri invited them over for a boys night even if that “boys night” ended in them being hurriedly ushered out as he caught a glimpse of you in an accidentally-provocative apron

But your sanity and self worth was slowly started to snap like an overstretched rubber band when it came to trusting your body. Your mutinous, betraying body that just didn’t do what you fucking wanted it to do, that was constantly compared to the models friends Kirishima would bring around, like Mina and Jirou

They were angels, of course, so, so sweet to you

Constantly reassuring you that the new dress your captor boyfriend practically shoved you in in his eagerness to see you in red (his color) fit oh so well on you

They tried to convince you that no, the dress wasn’t stretched too tight on you to be considered healthy, and no, it didn’t need to be shrank in some places either

They tried, they really did

Unfortunately for them however, their relentless support didn’t hold a candle’s light to the body builders and Pilates instructors Kiri would model with for health magazines almost every month

They could never understand what it was like to be in constant doubt and shame when you feel your seemingly mismatched figure, their bodies reflecting healthy proportions in every nook and corner, skin and smooth and soft as a baby’s, with glowing reflections of perspiration

And you always seemed like the only poor unfortunate soul who sat in the corner, sulking and watching ripped muscles and leaned, toned limbs mingle amongst each other to socialize and effortlessly slide inside various apparel that of course fit their body and shaped them in ways you couldn’t even dream of

And it didn’t help that night after night, Kiri would hold you on his lap, bouncing his eager knee as he shoveled bite after bite of food into your unwilling mouth

He infantilized the hell out of you, convinced you were too naive and self-loathing to see your true beauty and how he had to take it on himself to show you what he saw in you

It made you feel pathetic, and helpless. Maybe that’s what you were though, maybe that’s really what he was trying to show you

You felt like you deserved it, anyways

So you stand there, on the weighing machine, feeling the last shreds of self confidence slip down and out of your body, akin to the light tears that splash on the marble bathroom floor.

“Babe? What’re you doing?”

Aw, fuck

You quickly brushed away your tears and stifled your imminent sobs to avoid being coddled as usual by the gentle giant who stood behind you

It frustrated him to no end, no doubt. It didn’t matter how often he’d sit you down and kiss you all over, letting you know how much he loved every precious inch of your body, it didn’t matter how gently he’d cradle your face to force you to look into his eyes just to tell you how beautiful you were, how lucky he is to have kidnapped you

It was never enough for your fragile heart, and he saw it in the way you flinched under his praise and shrunk under his loving gaze that raked over your body that he compared to an angel’s

As if you thought he was a liar, just saying it for your sake

As if you didn’t believe his words, as if you didn’t want to believe his words

As if you were disobeying him

“It-its nothing Kiri, just PMS,” you mumbled, the snot in your nose making you sound nasaly and shaky

“Your period was two weeks ago, and none of your symptoms have ever made you throw up.” He says with a raised eyebrow, his arms crossing as he leans against the doorframe

So he did see you slip out after dinner and head straight for the toilet, huh?

Busted

If he wasn’t so worried about you, he would’ve ditched the mild tone kept up for your sake and had you bent over one knee with a red ass just for lying to him

But from the way you quickly step off the scale and attempt to squeeze past him tells him you aren’t just being hard-to-get, you’re not in one of your resistance fits

And he thinks he knows exactly what’s causing you to not-so-subtly shift your eyes from the weighing scale back to your own body, as if you hadn’t already been doing that for weeks now

He just has to make sure

“Did someone say something to you?” He catches your arm and gently yet firmly prevents you from slipping past him outside the bathroom, away from him

“No, no, seriously I just felt sick, I think I ate something weird,” you try to laugh breezily but the waver in your voice does nothing but further increase Kirishima’s aching heart for you

“You sure? ‘Sure I don’t need to go talk to someone who maybe said the wrong thing to you?” And although his cheerful voice holds nothing but playful jest, the dark glint in his eye does nothing to indicate that all he wants is a friendly talk, especially when he tightens his grip on your arm and pulls you so close that you’re nose to nose with him, looking right at him with tears eyes and flushed cheeks

There’s no point in pretending anymore. He might seem like an airhead, but he’s not one of the city’s top hero because of his airy, gentle nature

“Ugh, no Kiri, no one said anything to me. I just…” you trail off, not wanting to feel the inevitable embarrassment you’ll feel when you tell him the truth

How disgusting you feel when you see his buff, toned, chiseled body that’s akin to a Greek God’s compared to yours

How you long to secretly have the right figure to one day be worthy enough to be deemed his partner in a modeling gig, just once, just to feel like you’re worthy of him and his equivalently built body, a body that reflects hard work and perseverance

Something you seldom see or feel in your own mass of distorted limbs

“What is it?” He pleads softly, begging you to let him fix anything for you, to let him be a man good enough for you

You look into his ruby red eyes that hold a puppy-in-love expression, and when you find only adoration for you in them, you can’t help yourself for falling into the trust and care you so desperately want in that moment

“I’m…so tired of not feeling good about myself. About feeling overweight, underweight, seeing bits of pudge and flab in one area and then seeing some thin and gangly areas in others. Like, I just want my body to be normal, to be healthy like all the people you model with. I feel like nothing I do or eat or wear makes my body look how I want it to look, and no matter how much I try it’s so hard for me to see the beauty of what you see in it.”

And finally you can’t bear looking at him anymore, so you squeeze your eyes shut and turn away

Much to his credit, he pulls you in and nestles your head against his chest, letting your tears and snot wet his tank top

“Oh hun, is that all this is?”

You roll your eyes and try to pull back from his chest, but he doesn’t allow it as he simply holds you there, shushing you and rocking you back and forth

“Kiri, that’s a pretty big thing for me.”

“I know, but…why are you so concerned about how they look anyways? I mean, that’s their job, right? To look good for pictures!”

“I don’t understand,” your voice comes out muffled against his shirt.

“What I’m saying is,” he chuckles and soothes a hand through your hair, “is that you shouldn’t compare yourself to people that have nothing to do with your daily life. Like, you wouldn’t compare yourself to a firefighter right? ‘Cuz thats their job, to save people, not yours. Similarly with models and shit, that’s their job to look good. You didn’t sign up to be a model, so you shouldn’t stress yourself to look like them. Plus, it’s not like it has any affect on what kind of person you are on the inside, you feel me? I’ve met some pretty nasty and rude people with killer bodies, but can you guess how much respect I had for them?”

You nod slowly, still not fully grasping his confusing logic but sort of getting the underlying meaning to it

“But it’s hard not to compare my body to theirs when you’re constantly around them.” You admit. “It feels like I’m not good enough either to be next to you when I’m just sitting on my ass, not doing anything” You grip his shirt and let the last of your tears out, accepting his soft and heavy hands stroking against your back and up and down your shoulders

“So? Do you ever see Sero or Denki modeling next to me? Or Mina and Jirou?”

He did have a point.

“No,” you say slowly.

“Exactly, because models and bodybuilders have a job to dedicate themselves to a life of working out. They do it because that’s what a majority of their life goes to get paid for. It’s all superficial, that’s not how the average person is, like the friends I mentioned. Otherwise the whole world would be full of people walking around with ripped abs and giant pecs. Could you imagine some lanky dude like Denki sporting a 12-pack and ripped pecs?”

“Hell no,” you laugh breathlessly, the image so horrifying to you both that you feel the vibrations of his boisterous laughter rumble through you and soothe your emotions.

“Now you’re getting it,” he speaks into your hair, the smell of your shampoo flooding his senses and getting him dizzy along with a treacherously rising boner

“Plus, what kind of man would I be if I picked my girl out just because of the way she looked? I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful-no, beautiful can’t even begin to describe you. Your palms feel so soft compared to mine, your arms are so beautiful when my hands are wrapped around them, your thighs are just the right size, your stomach is such a comfy pillow for me to lay on, and don’t forget your plush, slick, tight pu-“ he rambles on and you can’t help but yelp and clap a hand over his overworked mouth as his shower of body positivity starts turning more lewd…attesting to the bulge you begin to feel pressing against your leg.

But it’s funny, you can’t seem to find yourself being mad at him as your face flushes and you see not ill-intent and perverseness in his warm eyes, but pure and honest devotion to you and to the words he truly means

It softens your heart, and you use a finger from the hand smushing against his mouth to lift and stroke the side of his cheek, conveying your gratitude to him.

It seems he understands, as he takes his forced moment of silence with patience and just looks at you, hoping this time you could really see what he felt for you.

“The thing is,” he says after a minute, gently taking your hand away and turning you around so that you both were facing the mirror, “I love you because of who you are. If I wanted to date some model, I would’ve done it by now, trust me,” and you swat your hand against his chest as he stifles a laugh and turns you to look at your own reflection in the mirror.

“I didn’t take you just for your body. I took you because of the way you smile, the way your laugh is so soft sometimes and then all roudy and crazy and loud the next. I love you because of how passionate you talk about the things you like, the way you deal with problems, the way you treat others. All these things make me want you, so damn bad.”

He lightly rocks his hips into your backside so you can really feel how much he wants you, and you let out a soft gasp

He doesn’t let you move, however, he just holds one wrist in his meaty palm and holds your jaw in the other, positioning you so that you meet his wondrous gaze in the clear reflection.

He knew he was never known to be the smartest in his class, having Bakugo drag him by the teeth to pass class itself, so he hoped you could overlook his lack of vocabulary that so desperately was trying to tell you that loving you went even beyond anything he could barely articulate.

Leaning towards your ear, his breath tickles your lobe as his sharp teeth graze over your goosebump-riddled flesh.

“And if it takes all night to show you how much you and your perfect body mean to me, I’ll gladly take out any words that don’t do the job and show you physically how I feel. And just the way you are, too.”

If there’s one man who could not give one less of a fuck about how dainty, small, feminine, or easy to handle you may or not be, it’s the birdman himself: Hawks

Running errands with him when he allowed it was hell, though it should’ve been a paradise you felt owed for.

It was bad enough that when you hesitantly asked him what would look good enough to wear when you walked next to him as the Number Two hero’s captive girlfriend, he merely shrugged and said “Whatever you want.”

Which was not of any help, due to his excessive mood swings and possessiveness spiking at the most seemingly harmless things, such as you talking to the checkout worker at a branded store, wearing a skirt that he deemed was for “sluts who put out for attention”, or even not looking directly at him enough when he was talking to you.

So just to play it safe, you decided to wear jeans and a cute blouse, one that you thought did well for your figure and yet remained modest enough for Keigo’s liking.

He gave you a warning look before opening the door outside, silently telling you to behave yourself in public

You always did, of course.

It was never enough to keep him less suspicious of you regardless.

Deciding to bag some groceries first, he kept a tight grip with your hand as you both inconspicuously tried to navigate the winding back alleys, avoiding people and waiting in intervals to pass the street

He had a black cap on with a red feather embroidered at the top, sunglasses and a beige and white jacket that had a high collar for covering his face-you might be lucky to have the freedom to wear what you wanted to a certain extent but Hawks wasn’t so lucky

His wings, of course, couldn’t be concealed regardless of what he wore

The two of you luckily manage to snag a few stores here and there, the groceries in both his and your arms weighing down on your bodies, his feathers doing little aid to help when his wings started sagging under the bulk as well

Which is where you both were finally caught by a gaggle of fangirls

You passed the cafe they gathered around outside, and barely had time to register their squints of suspicion at Hawks and his poorly-shrunken vermillion wings before you heard squeals of recognition coming from their group a couple feet back

He swore under his breath, crushing your hand in a death grip and attempting to speed up further away from them

But the Number Two hero wasnt fast enough for his own good, this time

It was almost inhuman how quickly they caught up to you and swarmed around, effectively cutting you two off from trying to escape

They shoved papers, phones, various body parts and markers in his face, trying to get him to sign each and every article they had on themselves

And poor you were caught in the midst of it, being carelessly jostled around as each girl tried to force her way closer to him

The volume of their excited devotion and praise of him was making your head hurt, and you wondered how Hawks was managing to put up such a flawless, easygoing smile and responding to all their questions and comments without having a panic attack or snapping at them

After a minute or two of pure chaos, with the help of numerous feathers the hero-now-victim finished most of the autographs.

“Well, girls, thank you so much for your support and time, but me and my lady should get going now-“

“-wait, that’s your girlfriend?” One asks pointing at you in disbelief

You give her a weak smile and little wave

“Yup, the one and only!” Hawks beams at you with pride, holding you in an endearing headlock

“Wow…you guys are so cute!” Another chimes in after a few moments of silence, and you try your hardest not to fall into your same old patterns, to not embrace your old thoughts and insecurities with such open arms

But old habits die hard, and they certainly aren’t dead yet

Especially when the first girl thrusts a shiny phone at you, fluttering her lashes and baring her teeth in a poor imitation of a smile. “Would you be a dear and take a picture of all of us with him?”

“Uhh, sure, yeah, no problem.” You decide that getting this whole ordeal over quicker would be the best option for you

But as quick as you want this to pass, you can’t help but take an extra second to see the difference in your hands and hers when you take the phone from her hand

While her smooth, small and soft hands are seemingly unmarked, her acrylics accentuating her feminine form, you feel as though your larger ones should hide in shame in comparison

You’re not a slob, not by any means when you go out with him. But what was previously just you feeling comfortable in your own skin of knuckle hair, cuticles here and there, and nails bitten short from the cold stand anxiety of living with such a volatile man starts to turn into a realization of how different you are to these people who are trimmed to perfection

You shake off the sinking feeling in your heart and back up with the phone as the rest of the girls and Keigo line up for posing

The details in the phone camera do nothing to ease your growing timidity

The screen reflects what you see right in front of you- smooth hair, not a frizzy strand in sight blowing with the wind, perfectly manicured hands that are so delicate and small compared to your boyfriends’ gripping his upper arms, desperate to feel the hero’s assets.

They’re all at a perfect height with him too, the heels and boots they wear so easily lining them up at his chest level so they have a perfect view of his pecs and upwards

All of them are so beautiful and uniform, so dainty and careful with themselves. If one of them said that they were dating Hawks, you’d believe that they were worthy of it too

You snap the picture and hand the device over, trying to hide your trembling bottom lip and frigid hands

The girls thank Hawks a plethora of times, give you some once-overs as well as slight sneers and faux waves, and you both head on your way back home again

You’re quiet that night while making dinner

It’s chicken pad thai, one of his favorite dishes handmade by you

No matter how shit you feel your cooking is, he insists you make him a 3 course meal while he takes a shower, leaving a feather behind to watch over you

Usually it’s fine, usually you ignore or absentmindedly swat away the plumage’s less-than-innocent rendezvous trailing around your body, floating behind your neck to tickle you, “accidentally “ falling in your shirt or wedging itself down your pants (no doubt commanded so by Hawks)

But today, it’s silent and still, precariously perched on the edge of the kitchen counter as it observed and picks up the various sounds and vibrations of your movement as you bustle around the kitchen

It picks up on the way you chop the onions a little too aggressively with your large, clumsy fucking hands

Another reminder of how different you are than the average Hawks Fangirl ™

How they sashay and swing their hips around in a perfect circle when approaching him, while you stumble and trip over your own damn feet, the epitome of clumsiness and gracelessness

The feet which never endow heels or boots often because of the height difference it gives you and Keigo, because of the way you try desperately to adorn different slouches and postures to not look so out of place and awkward around him

And while you’re stirring the pasta in its sauce, the feather also picks up on the rhythm of your shattered heart

Shattered so when you remember how the girls sneered at you because you weren’t femme fatale like them, how you just stood there like a fucking mannequin while they cooed well placed praise, and how eloquent sentences flowed from their tongue like honey

You could only wish you ever spoke like they did, or adopted any of their mannerisms that seemed so natural and effortless like them

Your aching heart thudded dully while you scrutinized your miserable self, and flared up into a kicking rate when you realized you shouldn’t even care what your captor or any of his fan girls thinks

In fact, this was all his fault.

You slammed your mixer down, tapping your fingers against the countertop deep on thought

The vibrations the feather picked up was the last straw of its patience, as it alerted its owner to come and address you

Mumbling under your breath at your predicament, you banged around pots and spoons in your anger, failing to notice the plumage silently join its approaching owner, the water from his shower dripping down his wet shoulders and hair

“What’s goin’ on chickadee? It sounds like you’re tryina’ tear down the kitchen.”

You barely spare him a glance over your shoulder as you take in his bare torso, only a towel wrapped around his midriff

“Nothing. Just finishing up dinner,” you mumble.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing. It sounds like your hearts racing a mile a minute. So I’ll ask you again- what are you so upset?”

He yanks a stirring spoon from your hand and uses his grand wings to turn you towards him, a condescending pout on his face as he amusedly takes in your furrowed eyebrows, heated up cheeks and shaking fists.

He wants to keep pushing me? Fine, then I can play his little game

“You wanna know why I’m upset? I’m upset because I’m here against my will, creating problems for myself that I never even wanted in the first place!”

You jab a finger into his chest and his eyes narrow at your impertinent tone.

“Now wait a sec’-“ but you cut him off immediately, nose to nose with him now as you continue to blare at him

“I’m upset because I never feel fucking good enough for my kidnapper. How pathetic is that? Any time I have to beg you on all fours like a fucking dog to go outside I end up regretting it, ‘cause all I see is how flawed I am!”

He’s staring at you with wide eyes now, actually bewildered at the turn your ranting came to. So it’s not just about being kept here against your will, you’re actually upset about not feeling good enough for him?

“Those girls today…they were so perfect and feminine and beautiful and they had such small fucking hands that would fit perfectly in yours like mine never do, and perfectly pedicured feet, and had such pretty voices, fuck, I mean I’d date them too if I were you!”

You ignore the rage and bafflement in his expression, he looks at you like you’re crazy and maybe for the moment you are as you keep mouthing off to him

“So why don’t you, huh? I mean I only go out with you a couple times a year, but you see them almost every day! Girls who have hair that flows like goddamn waterfalls, girls who you could pick up and throw around so easily or at least girls you’re not embarrassed of.”

“I’m clumsy, I can’t walk with grace, I’m not at a height that’s easy for you to look at me with or thats even considered sexy, I probably don’t even weigh anything around you that people would call worthy of being some fit bitch for you!”

At this, you sink to your knees in front of him, almost spent out. You can’t bear for him to see your face, no doubt scrunched up in tears and snot with mussed strands hovering around your face like you just got electrocuted.

Another thing to ridicule yourself about, a fucking crying face. You don’t want him to see another ugly trait about you that he no doubt will snicker about behind your back.

“Isn’t that why you never let me out? Because I’m not cute or good material for tabloids, right? I don’t look good enough or act right for the Number Two hero, and that’s why you’re embarrassed, right? It’s been so long since I tried to last leave so I know you trust me-that means the only reason you hate going out with me and covering yourself up is because you can’t stand to be seen with such a fugly-“

“That’s enough.” His cold voice booms louder than yours, and you startle at that.

“Look at me, Y/N.” The tone at which he speaks leaves no room for argument, but when you continue to look down he snarls and detaches a feather, forcing your head up with it.

“You keep calling yourself all these things, but don’t tell me that moronic is another word you’re gonna add on, right? I mean you can’t possibly be that stupid enough to believe all those things you just said.”

You glare at him, sure that this was just a way for him to get you to shut up.

“I thought living with the Number Two hero would let some intellect rub off on you, but I guess it’s the complete opposite, if anything. Because you seem to have forgotten your place in my house.”

You yelp when suddenly a multitude of other feathers zoom towards you, pulling at your limbs and clothes as they lift you into the air, suspended to a height a couple of feet above Hawks’ eye level.

He just stands there with an eerie smirk on his face as he watches you flail around midair, trying to regain your balance.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re 6’3 and have bigger hands than me.”

With a flick of his finger, the feathers are directed to slam your body into the ground, leaving you wheezing on your back.

“And it doesn’t matter if you’re 4’7 and fall over yourself every time I call for you.”

He stands above you now, hands in his pockets and he smiles down at your curled up body. You look at him cautiously, unsure of what he’s playing at.

“You’re mind because I want you. I want everything about you, your heart, your mannerisms, your soul, your movements-they all belong to me and only me.”

He crouches down to a kneel, gently running a hand through your hair before turning it into a fist and yanking your head up to face him.

“And there isn’t a goddamn thing that’s gonna stop me from having you, when I want, and how I want. You think you have a chance of leaving me, or me leaving you when I, in your words, ‘go out and see beautiful girls like that all the time?’ If I haven’t left you for them by now, I sure as hell never will.”

You decide for now to take the backhanded compliment about being able to leave in silence. In a messed up way, he was proving his loyalty, and right now you needed all the reassurance you could get.

“And why the hell do you care how you look in public anyways, huh? Are you trying to seduce someone?”

You frantically object, and he sneers at your desperation. “Good, because it should only matter what I think, and you wanna know what I think?”

You stare at him wide eyed now as he pulls your head closer to him

“I don’t give a flying fuck if you think you’re some foxy slut or if you feel like a clumsy oaf. Because you wanna know why?”

He starts unzipping his fly with a handy feather, and you mentally berate yourself for pushing him to a point where he has to ‘prove his love’ to you, knowing where this was heading.

“Because when you’re sucking my cock or lying underneath me, it doesn’t matter how tall or short you are. When I tell you to take your clothes off and hump my foot like the good little bitch in heat you are, I don’t care how much you weigh. I’m still choosing you to be my fuckmeat, my obedient play-toy when I want, and I’m doing it with all your ‘flaws’, aren’t I? ”

You cringe when his tongue flicks out against your earlobe and down your jaw, your endeavors of trying to shove him away proving fruitless as he just snarls and bites your neck.

“Even if you think you don’t have the prettiest, smallest, biggest, or smoothest hands, they’re still the hands I’m choosing to play with my balls, yeah? I mean, you should be proud of your fucking sexy and lewd body…look at what it does to me.”

He gestures to his exposed member now which is hard against your thigh. You bite back a whimper as he begins to tear open your shirt with one free hand as the other slips down your pants.

“So be a good girl and show me how proud you are of being mine.”

[funkymbtifiction]

I’m an ENFJ 2w1 so/sx and I have a lot of difficulty understanding and properly appreciating my brother, an ISTJ 6w5 sp/so...

Well. First I am going to say that one of the strengths of high Ni is finding a different vantage point from which to survey a situation and re-interpret it in a different, unusual way. Meaning that you need to go inside yourself and consider your brother from a different, larger viewpoint than just "he offends people." Think about him in a broader context, think about the psychology behind this (I assume you have read a lot about 6s? if not, please do so, it will be helpful in understanding how fear is motivating him, and that will give you an even deeper understanding of his psyche), and then think about how you could reach him by catering your Fe to what he would respond best to. How can you use what you know about being a 6 to reach him? (Let's say that a 6 wants to be liked, because it's true -- they are attachment types. What would be the benefit to him of being liked, by him actively working toward softening some of his own edges? Would he be more successful in his career, for example? A strong Te user responds to facts and logical thinking -- cause and effect. You do this, that results. For a 6, you do this, you alienate people who might not like you anymore and could hurt you -- so the goal becomes, how do I find allies? How can you help your brother be someone who attracts allies and friends?)

Another thing... how old is he? If he's 12 or 15, this is not a huge deal; if he's 30 and still alienating people, it's a problem. Age matters. Being a teenager who is trying to figure out who he is and what he thinks and where his place is in the world... matters. If he's under 20 years old, cut him some slack. He's immature. What you described to me are "young" 6 behaviors and as he gets out into the world, gains more experience, deals with more people, they will fade a bit. The less experienced in real life a 6 is, the more rigid their views -- because they can cling to them in the comfort of their own home.

Okay, on to the rest of your ask...

He attaches to people and ideologies to keep himself safe and make sense of the world and I get that. But, by constantly choosing this over this etc, he alienates other people and offends them which as an Fe-dom is just no. He often seems to have no idea about the emotions and opinions of others and is self-centred, constantly talking about what he likes and he’s doing.

Really, this is butting up against your need, as an EFJ, to have everyone on the same page and maintain harmony between them, which is understandable. But TJs do not think that way, as you know from living with him (ha, ha). Something to remember, then, is that... his actions don't reflect on you and won't change how people feel about you, if that is partly your concern. People will evaluate him independently from you and not lump you together. Second, you can't expect him to understand the emotions of others -- this is beyond his understanding. ITJs are incapable of that. Does it offend higher Fe types? Yes. Can it change? No, it can't. You need to find a way to accept this, and not expect it from him, which means being more able to just shake your head when something happens, remind yourself that "this is just who he is," and deal with the fallout.

When something goes slightly wrong, it’s like his whole world explodes and everything is ending right this second and he either starts yelling or sulking or blaming other people for something that is his fault.

You may want to read the book I am reading, which is the 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. In it, the author talks a lot about putting power back in people's hands through your choice of language (I think the author is an EFJ 2w1 as well; he might even be ENFJ due to his focus on language/words/communication techniques). He says that most people excuse personal responsibility by insisting it was not their fault, but that you can put power back into their hands by reaffirming that the choices they made led them here. Are they CHOOSING to get upset right now? Angry? To blame others?

Something about blame is that the 6 being an ego type, wants to be a good person in a similar way that the 1 gets credit for being (the difference is the 1 doesn't want to be good, so much as RIGHT). 6s also want to be RIGHT. Blame means I did something wrong, which attacks their ego structure--their line to 3 rebels at being seen in a negative light, and they want to avoid the consequences of having something be "my fault," so that' why they point fingers elsewhere. It takes a lot of self-work for a 6 to be able to admit when they were wrong without fearing the consequences (punishment). But as I said, the more immature the 6, the more this happens; the more mature the 6, the less this happens. It can be grown out of, but the 6 has to be aware that this is a problem with them and something that needs fixed (which a lot of 6s will want to do, because they are super-ego types who don't want to do the wrong thing). So... maybe introduce him to the Enneagram. Find a good book about it and give it to him, something like Russ Hudson or Richard Rohor. See what happens.

He constantly measures himself against the normal and “shoulds” endlessly, ending up despairing and frustrating himself and everyone else. It’s just so stressful.

I realize this is going to be incredibly hard for you to hear, as an EFJ 2, but... you can't fix him, you can't change him, and his struggles are none of your business if he won't listen to you. You cannot control how other people think, feel, or behave, all you can control is how you respond to them. If you see a technique that might help him, point it out to him, but don't lecture or mother him. Younger siblings hate being parented by older ones. Come at it from a "friend" perspective, and not a "sub-parent" perspective.

I think he’s amazing overall and some of these negatives are also very positive. I just don’t know how to keep everyone happy without “shoulding” at him. He deserves to be and express himself but so does everyone else and when he’s being him, that can’t happen without an explosion. I don’t know if this is personality related really. I was just wondering if you could give me some tips on how to deal with 6’s need for security at all costs (as opposed to my 2 need to be needed) and Fi vs Fe. Thank you so so so much for all you do! I love reading through your blog and your thoughtful, kind responses :)

Turn your Ni to thinking about -- how can I make him feel 'safe and supported' in this environment and pursue that for a while. Instead of seeing him as a problem or something to fix, look beyond that to his true needs, his 6 wounds of feeling unsure and unsupported, and see what happens.

[todourouki]

Good Girls, Bad Guys | Dabi

a one shot

SUMMARY: The one where no one can understand why you’re so interested in Dabi, but you just can’t seem to help yourself. Maybe it was how soft he was when no one else was around, or how gentle his touch was against your skin, or maybe even how clumsy he is on purpose just to see you— whatever it was, you couldn’t get enough of the scarred man.

PAIRING: Villain!Dabi & Sweetheart!Reader

WORD COUNT: 5.7k

WARNINGS: Explicit Language, Dabi purposely acts careless during missions so u can tend to his wounds because he’s an attention whore, Smut [18+]

Dabi was a complete mess.

He was a mess made of old silver staples, burnt purple skin adorning his lean and tall build, the same routined outfit that never seemed to alternate, unruly raven hair always managing to stay as distressed as the day before, and silky yet lewd words that slipped off his sinning lips as if it were his maiden tongue.

The only difference with his usual mess of an appearance today as he stood with arms crossed against his chest would be the large rip peaking through his black coat. Your eyes widened, rushing him into your living room and shutting the door behind him.

Your apartment was one that Dabi never seemed to get tired of. He had only really been in the living room, yet the cozy space always brought an odd sense of familiarity into his soul he couldn’t quite pinpoint.

He wasn’t sure if it was the plush and soft couches, pillows thrown against each cushion making it look just as soft and comfortable as they really were, or maybe it was the picture frames hanging around every wall with a candle on an invisible shelf not too far from the glass.

Either way, the steps he took in his plain black socks on to the carpet under the couches and coffee table brought him into a weird headspace one could only describe as happiness. It really did scare the shit out of him.

With a simple few set of steps, he swung his body down onto the cushions he always found himself sinking into at weird hours of the night like today. The only difference from the current night to others would be that it was an earlier hour, currently being only two in the morning as soft rain pattered against the windows adorning your cozy living area.

“Dabi..” Your soft words whispered into the silence of the room, hands gently hovering over the large cut in concern as you watched him throw you a rather forced smirk.

“Nothing worse than what I already got. Just patch me up like new, princess.” His words didn’t get the usual blush from your cheeks he always searched for after his usual flirtatious remarks filled the room.

All he was gifted with would be a look of sadness covering your usually content face. Without a word, you stood up and walked away towards what he assumed was your bathroom. All the man could do was furrow his eyebrows, the confused face remaining when you walked back into the couch and knelt down on the floor next to him.

“What’s wrong with you?” He bluntly asked, a once drawn eyebrow raising as you brushed the sleeve of his t-shirt off and eyed the dried up cut.

You continued to remain silent, only sighing as the alcohol pad in your hand made its way over to the open skin. Before the stinging sensation could reach his skin though, the opposing hand gripped onto your wrist and tugged it further away and just enough to make your eyes finally meet his.

The silence surrounded the room, Dabi staring at you in order to get you to speak. You were conflicted, of course you loved patching the man up almost every night and hearing about his wild adventures in words that made your eyes twinkle with excitement. Yet you were becoming exhausted of seeing him with a brand new scar eventually worse from the one than before.

“I just..” Your soft voice began, Dabi’s posture becoming subtly more relaxed the minute his favorite sound filled the room. “I get tired of seeing you get hurt all the time, you know?”

Your words made him smirk, the same infamous one he couldn’t seem to keep off his burnt lips. In one swift movement, he released your arm and pushed it back towards the large gapping wound that made your stomach turn.

“You worrying about me?” He questioned, the hand that once gripped your wrist now resting against your cheek as he stared at you mockingly.

It was hard to not get flustered around Dabi. He had such a way with words and always knew just how to get your ears to turn a hue of red you didn’t even know they were capable of becoming. You felt the heat flush to your cheeks and hoped the flattery you felt wasn’t too visible. Your face turned back to the large cut on his arm, ignoring his remark all together.

The minute the liquid reached his arm, a soft hiss you were used to slipped off his lips. You only weakened the grip on the cut, your bottom lip being tugged between your teeth in concentration.

“I have to get rid of the bacteria before I use my healing quirk— I’m sorry.” Your apology rang on deaf ears, and Dabi chose to ignore it in order to save your heart from thinking you hurt him.

He only nodded and placed his hand away from your cheek to behind his head in order to give his eye level some more precision on your face. You had a concentrated knit between your eyebrows, and he almost got worried you were forgetting to blink. This was an expression he was much too used to, yet every time he saw it gave him the same feelings he could never explain.

The silence in the room pained you both, the level of words usually slipping out of either of your lips being brought to an awkward zero. It was really uncomfortable, and you couldn’t deal with it anymore as you tossed the now bloodied up tissue somewhere on the ground.

Your hands replaced the tissue, a light reflecting across his arm and making a hiss leave his lips once again. You knew that the feeling of your healing quirk made him feel uncomfortable and he never really grew used to it yet. It shocked you though, because you’d think after being in this exact predicament probably over 100 times, he’d grown used to the prickling feeling.

“Where was this one from?” Your voice was still soft, trying to ease his mind off the pain in a way you knew was best for him.

Dabi loved the way you cared for him. The first time he met you was at the League of Villains hideout in a trashy old building he really hated. You walked in through that warp guy’s portal and the minute he saw you was the minute he believed in angels. It was like time stopped, and he really wasn’t a fan of finding people so attractive yet there you were.

You were announced to be the healer for the league. Shigaraki found you abandoned in some building destroyed in a fire you couldn’t remember, and finding refugee in the odd man was your only option to survival at that point. With that, you were granted as the only person with a full-blown apartment in the building in order to be available for their every need, and were granted immunity from being on actual missions.

That was good enough for you, though. You weren’t a violent person, and knowing most of their targets were children didn’t sit right with you. Despise that, you didn’t have the heart to quit and instead decided to spend the remainder of your days with the dysfunctional League. You had never felt genuinely needed the way the League needed you, and in some weird Stockholm syndrome way, you couldn’t shake the comfort you got from knowing they had to have you around to genuinely survive.

“If I tell you, you’d only worry more.” He smiled over at you, a rare sight blessing your wondering eyes and making you blush once more.

Dabi wasn’t a liar— that’s something that was well known amongst everyone in the league and even amongst you. So when he thought about what happened today, why he was sitting on your couch, and how he planned on hiding the truth from you, he had to mentally lecture himself for stretching the truth.

The real reason Dabi was getting patched up underneath your touch was because he chose to be.

He would never tell you, but the large and deathly gash on his arm was at first only a slight cut where a staple had fallen out. He chose to ignore it in the beginning and decided to check in with you about it after the weekend passed. Yet the minute he realized that meant he’d have to go several days without feeling your touch and hearing your voice made him change his mind completely.

With that, a tissue was wrapped into a ball and sitting in his lips and Dabi ended up watching himself remove a few staples from his arm and tug at the skin in a way that made him shiver. I literally tore myself open to see her, who the fuck does that?

Your hand had finished doing its job. Dabi could tell by the way the prickling ended, and he found his body getting pushed upwards and being replaced by the comfort of your chest against his back.

You positioned the both of you to where his body was leaning against your legs and chest in a way to make his arm in perfect reach for you. The stapler in your hand warned Dabi of what was to come, and he simply sat back against the comfort of your body heat with closed eyes.

“People that worry are people that care.” You whispered, the sound of the stapler pressing into his arm being the only other sound. Dabi’s face remained stoic as he drank in your words and let a loopy grin cover his bored expression.

“Are you saying that you care about me?” Dabi continued to tease, bright blue eyes now opening and staring into yours with flames threatening to shoot through his pupils.

You scoffed, finishing the last staple and replacing the metal object down with a bottle he recognized as the ointment you always forced him to wear after using his quirk. The cool of the cream made him sigh in content. The contrast of his burning skin to a cold burn-relieving cream brought pleasure into his body.

“I care about all of you— that’s why I do th-” “No, Y/N.” He interrupted, making you clam your mouth shut and listen to his words nervously. “I asked if you cared about me.”

You finished lathering the ointment on his skin, gently propping his body up against the backrest of the couch. He only slightly grimaced and tossed the bad arm on a side that didn’t interfere with his position. Your legs were now crossed underneath you.

“Of course I care about you, Dabi.” Your voice made a groan threaten to fall off his lips. There was nothing Dabi loved more than your voice, especially when you said his name. Whenever you spoke, he knew every one and everything didn’t matter if it wasn’t you and your vocal cords.

Dabi rolled his head to the side to make you face him. Even with a bad arm, he was able to now pick it up and peel his jacket off his body lazily.

“How much do you care about me?” The smirk playing weakly on his lips made you shiver, and just watching his expression brought butterflies to your stomach.

“A lot, that’s why I’m always ready to patch you up..” You mumbled, nervously looking down at your fingers and playing with the ring on your right index finger.

It wasn’t that you were shy— but the way Dabi’s eyes always followed yours brought a certain attraction you couldn’t stuff away. It was almost scary how much he made you squirm, even under something as simple as a gaze.

Sure, Dabi flirted with everyone. It didn’t take a genius to see that he flirted with you in a different way, though. His eyes always lingered longer on your frame when you entered the room, he spoke more words to you than he’s probably ever said in his life, and he always kept his endearing pet-names for you and only you.

“You wanna know something, doll?” He asked lowly, his face staring into yours intensely as you finally lifted your eyes to meet his and nodded your head.

Regardless of his appearance, regardless of his attitude, and regardless of the fact it’s Dabi, you knew that you were a goner from the start. You had a ridiculously annoying crush on him, and we’re pretty sure he could coerce you into doing just about anything. He probably knew that, too.

“I think I care about you more than anyone else here.” His words stitched onto your skin, the quietness seeming as if he feared anyone else would hear his words.

“You’re too good and innocent for this world.” He continued, a patchy hand stretching its way over towards your face and slowly rubbing at your cheeks.

You stood quiet, fearing that he’d stop his words all together and you wouldn’t be able to here the sincere tone he rarely spoke in. The only sound in the room one was able to hear was the pattering of water running down the window and your lit candles cracking amongst themselves. Your head leaned into his hand and let the warmth of his palm silk you in.

“That’s a problem though, baby.” Baby.. Your eyes widened at the new name, eyebrows furrowing and glancing over at him with a tilted head.

“What problem is there about that, Dabi?”

He chuckled, gliding his hand from your cheek to the back of your head as he grabbed a fistful of hair as soft as possible. He tugged your head closer towards his daringly. You breath began to shallow and you felt it, the excitement that always came with Dabi whenever he was around.

“You might be a bit too good for me.” He spoke as if he was trying not to scare you away. The timidness of words only brought you closer to him, finally feeling your chest collide with his arm as you were pressed against his side with your face dangerously close to his.

His blue eyes refused to leave yours, and the intensity of the situation made you nearly melt inside. It’s been a while since anyone ever said something like that to you, let alone a guy. A feeling jumpstarted your butterflies, and you ran your tongue against your bottom lip to hide the now dry sensation of your lips.

“I’m not too good for you, please don’t say that Dabi.” The way his name rolled off your tongue made him groan and grip your hair a little tighter.

You’d be lying if it didn’t feel good.

Your face was close enough to feel the heat run off his cheeks, and you knew that you wanted nothing more than to just collide your lips with his. The sexual tension he oozed was something you couldn’t handle, no matter how hard you clenched your thighs.

“You sure about that, princess?” You heard the dare in his voice and felt nothing but exhilaration run through your veins as if you were speeding down a highway on the opposite side of the road.

You weren’t sure when his hands reached your shorts-covered bottom, but you soon found yourself mumbling in surprise when your body was tossed (with literally one arm) across his figure in a straddling position. Your chest arched into his by the pressure he had on your ass, and a gulp slipped through your lips in embarrassment.

You refused to back down, though.

“I’m really sure, Dabi.”

You knew the effect you had on him when you mentioned his name, and he knew by the way he smirked up at you. His other arm was still limp on his side, but that didn’t stop his dominant and good arm from groping every inch of your lower half. You were trying your hardest to cover a moan, yet the minute he gripped a piece of your thigh close enough between the other, you couldn’t help but slam your lips against his.

Dabi tasted like what you would expect him to taste like. The saliva that trailed from his throat down yours had the taste of metal and mint chewing gum. The taste became something you grew familiar to within seconds of smacking your lips against his, and by the way his body gripped you closer to his, you could tell he enjoyed your taste just as well.

Dabi’s mind went empty at the way your tongue moved against his. He couldn’t believe that his pretty little girl could kiss him like this, letting out secret moans into his lips in a way that made sinning sound like a good idea. He also couldn’t believe how fast he got hard, the bulge pressing against his jeans in a way he just couldn’t work with.

You felt it, and your body began to nervously rock back and forth in a way to secretly relieve yourself. Before you started to press your body down harder, Dabi’s free hand slipped up to your hair again and pulled your head back with a tinge of softness. He was out of breath and flustered, and you were sure you looked just as distraught as him.

“Listen,” he panted, his hand letting go slightly of the grip and groaning at the way your lips swelled up in a coat of his own saliva, “if you start something, I won’t able to not finish it. I also won’t go slow.”

The words activated a switch in your head, eyes widening as you stood up from his lap. Before he could question your actions or even grow a bit disappointed at the idea of you not wanting to continue, his eyes nearly jolted out of his skull. Before him stood you, clad in a pair of plain white panties and your shorts thrown on the ground from where you had dropped them. If Dabi wasn’t already obsessed before, he knew he was nothing but smitten now.

You stood quiet and he followed suit as you took your place back into his lap. Without glancing at him, you fiddled with his belt and loosened the grip around his hips.

Dabi really wanted to stop you. He really fucking did. Yet watching you focus on nothing but trying to take his clothes off made him unable to move and speak. It was like he was brainwashed, and he nearly died the minute you sat up to push his pants down.

“I-I-Y/—” “Shh.”

Your fingers covered his mouth as you continued to stare down at his pants in focus. You knew he was trying to stop you, but you wanted to continue. You knew you wanted him to know that you were just as fond of him as he made it seem he was for you.

After struggling to shimmy his pants off his lanky legs with one arm since you were still trying to shut up him, you watched his body lie limp across your couch in nothing but a shirt and black briefs.

It was like heaven in front of your eyes.

You licked your lips, shyly taking a seat on top of him and removing your hand. Your fingers made their way over to his chest. You wanted to take his shirt off and feel the skin to skin contact, but you knew how Dabi was about that stuff. He’d never say it, but you knew he was insecure of the uneven portions of skin there.

He tilted your head up with a finger and brought your wide eyes to his. “What do you want to do, doll? It’s whatever you want.”

The words brought goosebumps up your spine. The way he said it just made you weak, each word slipping off his lips like the air you needed to breathe and you soon found yourself whimpering at the sentence you knew he set up for this exact reaction. You could tell by how smugly he watched you writhe under his words.

You thought about your next sentence carefully. His arm was injured, and you weren’t sure if he was as into this as you were. Sure, making out and dry-humping was cool for a while— but would he be okay with jumping straight into sex? Sure, most people go through an extensive amount of foreplay in order to get the mood going, but you didn’t really want to. His arm was hurt, and all you wanted to do was watch him squirm under you as you made him feel good.

“I want to ride you.” The sudden confidence of your voice made him stammer, eyes watching you as they twitched in excitement. He had never realized how much he’d wanted those words to slip off your pretty lips but he was beyond estatic to hear them he meant for him and only him.

He didn’t respond, only pressing you into his lips with the hand gripping your hair and taking your mouth by surprise. Your tongues moved in sync, and you could feel yourself only growing wetter and wetter from just the way he pounded his lips into yours.

Before you could stop yourself, you moved your fingers to the waistband of his briefs and pushed them back just enough to hear something heavy smack against his stomach. Yes, something heavy.

He gripped your hair again and this time with much more intensity, broke your lips apart and pushed your head away from his. From the quick glance you gave him, you could see his nearly throbbing dick rest against his lean stomach in a way that nearly teased you. His lips were wet and his eyes were clouded with desire.

“I want to watch your face when you sit down on my dick, Y/N.”

The assertiveness made you nod your head obediently. Instantly following his commands, you rested your body onto your knees and pushed your panties to the side. A soft hand gripped his dick, and the way he sucked his breath in at the contact made you smile smugly.

He didn’t realize though, since his eyes were now trained on your dripping heat inch closer towards his dick. He counted in his head, preparing himself to sink into the place he wanted to get into the most.

5. Your hands slowly swirled up and down his dick, pumping gently enough to prepare his body to take you up yet to also evoke a moan from his lips. And Dabi doesn’t moan.

4. Your eyes never left his the minute you had a good enough grip on him, and just that alone made some precum slip through his tip.

3. He thought you looked so pretty getting ready to sit down on his cock. ‘Imagine when she’s actually riding me, fuck.’

2. To prep yourself up a bit more, you lathered you’re wetness with a swipe of your thumb against his tip, the sensation making him suck in an incoherent curse.

1. This was your moment. Usually Dabi wanted to take control, and usually in his fantasies about you, it was you getting drilled into your own bed in a way that had you forgetting how to scream. This was different though. Dabi wanted to see what you were going to do.

Before he could even continue his thoughts, the feeling of a soft, extremely wet, and tight hole covered his penis agonizingly slow. With squinted eyes in pleasure, he watched as your face moved from that smug smile to a look of focus and surprise. Within just the first few inches, you already felt as if your insides were more full than possible.

Growing impatient yourself was something you knew would be a bad idea, but you couldn’t help it. So with that, you let go of all strain in your knees and in your hands and let your body drop fully into his embrace. Just like that, you imagined he was probably in your damn gut at this point.

“You’re so big.” You gasped, the vulgar words coming out of your lips making Dabi groan even more than he already was at the sudden contact.

You took a few more minutes to take him in as your vagina just refused to take all of him in. For a skinny guy like him, the weight he carried down there definitely made up for it and you weren’t complaining.

Before you knew it, you felt the need to continue. With that, you dragged your hands up to Dabi’s face and gripped the sides in yours. His lips met your lips, and you began to grind your body against his in order to control your pace for the time being.

You had to rip your lips off his as your slowly found yourself bouncing against him. The movements were so sudden, Dabi didn’t expect it and found his eyes slamming shut in pleasure as his free-hand gripped your ass cheek roughly.

“Fuck Y/N.” He moaned, making you feel only more determined than before.

His praises (which really only consisted of moans, groans, and the word fuck) egged you on, and before you knew it, you were bouncing your body up and down with such speed and intensity, Dabi couldn’t even say a word.

You were fucking him so good, he couldn’t even speak.

Dabi wasn’t sure if it was the way you slipped your body all the way up to his tip only to slam back down, or if it was the quick and loud moans that left your lips so richly, or if it was the trail of wetness coming down from your lower heaven pooling into his light pubic hairs. Whatever it was though, was causing him to see stars.

As thunder cracked in the background, all you could focus on was the sounds of your thighs and body slapping into Dabi’s in a perfect motion.

“D-Dabi—” you moaned loudly, the words falling off your lips quicker than you could handle, “I-You-You feel so— so fucking good.”

The word good dragged out longer than you liked, your screams being reduced to whimpers due to not wanting anyone else to hear you. Dabi watched you, groans coming out of his lips matching yours in a way that made you grow in intensity.

Your hips moved harder and faster, finally finding your own G-Spot and beginning to see stars in your trail of sight.

“You look- look so fucking pretty— taking my cock like this— baby.” The name only made you yelp, whimpering as your eyebrows furrowed and began to thrash your ass tight vagina in a quick notion of in, out, grind, out, grind, in, and over and over again.

There were many things you did to impress Dabi. Honestly, the way you breathe was something Dabi wanted to praise you with in itself. This, however, was beyond him.

Watching you throw yourself against his dick, eyes crossing and drool slipping across your still swollen lips, ass that he was gripping onto as if it would leave forever clapping against his skin, whimpers and cries coming out of your throat was something that Dabi now believed he wanted to be the only thing he ever saw again.

“Just like that doll, I want to see you cum-see you cum all over me.” He managed to get out, face scrunching as he felt his tip slam into a certain part of your pussy that damn near sent vibrations down his long length. He had never felt pussy this good before, and maybe it was just because he was attracted to you, but whatever it was— was driving him absolutely insane.

You felt your stomach tighten, a trail of curses coming out of both you and Dabi’s mouths in synch. You continued to bounce against him. Somehow, the position you were in where you were now on your feet only allowed you to ride him harder and faster than before. Dabi nearly passed the fuck out.

You, on the other hand, were definitely already gone. Watching his face scrunch up, staples clattering as his hair began to stick to his forehead and his lips rip your name and curses like they were the only words he knew— you couldn’t handle it. With that, the pressure in your stomach grew.

“Do-don’t worry about me baby—” he could feel your hole beginning to tighten up more and more, the sensation feeling as if you were milking his cock from the inside and dragging his cum up involuntarily.

“B-but I wanna cum with you.” You whined out, head thrown back in nothing but pure ecstasy.

He could see your tits bounce harshly against your shirt, yet for some reason, he couldn’t bring it upon himself to burn the stupid material off. For a flashing moment in time, he thought about how your eyes trailed against his covered chest.

“I know b-baby.” You said, snapping him from his stare at your chest and up to your now clearly red face. “I-I ke-kept it on so that we-we both have our shirts on.”

That itself, nearly brought Dabi over the fucking edge. The simple fact that you were so fucking considerate, enough to do some little shit like that drove him insane.

Without blinking, the limp hand once thrown on the couch was now gripping onto your body. You couldn’t say anything though, because his other hand gripped the couch and brought him to an angle to where he began to obliterate you.

With nothing but a gasp being able to come out of your locked jaw, your eyes rolled back at the way his drilled in and out of you in a nearly barbaric manner. His arm gripped around your waist in order to bring himself to more pleasure, and you found yourself bouncing up and down in order to counter him and bring more force into the slams.

“Holy fucking shit.” He yelled, his jaw tightening as he began to whimper.

You were fucking him back, your hands tugging at his raven hair roughly and your lips drooling at the sensation in a way that made you seem to be out of your headspace. Just like that, your stomach tightened up and warned you that you had about a second to let him know you were going to literally cream yourself.

You heard his staples more than usual, yet ignored the small noises in order to focus on the grip pressed against your body.

“Dabi I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.” You repeated, your voice hoarse and whined out from the way he fucked your brain into overdrive.

All that could be heard were your pleas of pleasure, Dabi’s hips slamming into your hips that slammed into his, the wet sounds of your pussy continuously being filled up to the brim by Dabi, and the couch beginning to squeak at the roughness.

Without catching a breath, Dabi’s hand roughly scratched its way up to your hair and tugged you to face him.

“Cum now.”

The order made your eyes roll back. You weren’t sure just how close you were, but just him commanding you to do it made you finally fall over the edge. The feeling of his dick shooting into you made you topple over onto his chest, cries leaving your lips as you orgasmed harder than you probably ever have before.

The sight you once had disappeared as you saw nothing but stars and darkness. The air once resting in your lungs cleared out, and nothing was able to leave your throat other than Dabi’s name over and over again as if it were your religion.

Dabi followed suit, finally resting underneath you and gasping for air from the orgasm he just came down from. His cock stood in you, still warm and twitching from the stimulation still being given from your tightness.

Nobody said anything, voices too tired, bodies too sticky and stuck together, and minds too empty to even be able to form a sentence. Your legs had given up on you, finally wrapped behind Dabi’s back as you clung onto him for your dear life.

“Baby.” Dabi called out softly, his raspy voice making you snap out of your fucked out trance. You looked at him, eyes barely being able to hold themselves open as your body wobbled against his.

“Let me clean you up, okay?” He softly asked, his hand gently pushing some hair still stuck to your cheeks behind your ears. You bit your lip and defiantly shook your head.

“Can we clean up tomorrow?” You asked shyly, hands rubbing up and down his chest as your voice pleaded for him to listen. “I just want to sleep with you for the rest of the night.”

The minute you looked at him with those wishful eyes and small pout, he found it really fucking hard to say no. He wasn’t really planning on staying, but now he wasn’t sure if he was ready to even think about leaving.

Agreeing with your plea to stay, he twisted his body enough to where he was finally lying down on the couch from one end to the other. He dragged your body with him, adjusting you to where your legs were tangled up and your head taking comfort on his shirt-clad chest.

With the way he just fucked your lights out, and the way he softly spoke to you and rubbed your back, you found it even harder to keep your eyes open. It was no surprise when Dabi somehow managed to turn the singular lamp on that was on the table next to him off only to find you slightly snoring on his chest.

So many times, he warned himself that when the day he got to go inside of your wet, sweet heaven came, he’d stay up and take advantage of being able to look at your fucked out expression some more.

But due to how good you rode his dick, how good you kissed him, and how good you felt weaves into his body, he couldn’t help but close his eyes and fall into the same slumber as you with his hands tightly wrapped around your frame and a small smile playing at his lips.

—

cue the song overdue by travis scott because this took me like a week to write for some reason 🥴 writers block aint no mf JOKE! Anyways, i hope you guys enjoyed! I did get an anon ask somewhat similar to it though so that kinda got me to finish. So anon, whoever you were that sent that one Dabi anon in about reader being a healer and such, thanks for saving the day 😔👍🏾 anyways YEA please don’t let this flop idk why y’all don’t like Dabi </3 smh no substance! Also this is hella unedited and guess what? Idc. If you see a typo though, please lmk.

don’t forget to like, reblog, comment, and follow me if u a real one

[daddysfangirls-anime]

Levi as your first

Summary: what about an imagine where Levi and reader have been dating for around a year but the reader likes to practice abstinence and so Levi respects her choice and they never cross that line. until a few months later they get engaged, then married and on their wedding night, Levi is really excited to finally do ‘it’ as is the reader, but she’s also really nervous because she doesn’t wanna get hurt or mess up and so Levi calms her down and gently makes love to her.

Warning: fluff, language, smut ( oral [female receiving],penetration, virginity)

“forget about the titans that paperwork is going to be the death of you” (Y/N) teased as Levi walked into the room groaning completely exhausted he flopped on the bed next to her.

“I’d rather be fighting titans than paperwork. No more words, my head hurts.” she laughed as he grumbled running her hands through his hair as he laid next to her.

“don’t say that you’ll jinx us” she whispered kissing his forehead. He rolled over on to his back looking up at her. Reaching up he cups the back of her neck and pulls her down to kiss her. He then rolls over pushing her on to her back she moans lightly as he nibbles on her bottom lip. “I thought you were tired.”

“Not anymore” he says moving kiss her jaw and neck. She moans as he finds her sensitive spot and focuses there. Once he was satisficed with the bruise he left on her neck he moved back on to her lips.

It was good they were making-out and she was happy but then she felt his hands tugging at her shirt at first she didn’t know what was happening but then he managed to take her shirt off. She was becoming scared. Things were going a little too fast for her liking. She didn’t know how this was going to happen but she knew whatever it was she didn’t want it to happen like this.

Levi noticed how (Y/n) stiffed up and he pulled away he saw how nervous she was.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked pulling back.

“sorry” she whispered sitting up and putting on her shirt “Um…I just…that was really fast.”

“We can slow down if you want.”

“Levi… I’m-I don’t think I’m actually ready to do … this. I’m sorry I-”

“shut up, you’re fine. We don’t have to do anything.” Levi said as pulled back he kisses her forehead and climbs under the covers as if nothing happened. He didn’t push the topic, he didn’t question her, he didn’t shame her. She said she didn’t want to and he was fine with that. Their relationship wasn’t built on sex so it wasn’t needed. In the future they did have a short conversation about it where they both agreed they’d try again once they were married. And that’s where the conversation ended neither of them brought it up again.

-

“That was a beautiful ceremony” (Y/n) said as Levi put her down on the couch after carrying her over the threshold of their home as his new wife. She heard him hum behind her.  (Y/n) sighed lightly as Levi rubbed her shoulders “Hanji really out did herself. Who would have though she’d be such as good wedding planner”.

“She’s good with organizing things when she wants too.” Levi said as he leaned down and began to kiss her shoulder and neck she moaned lightly.

“feels nice.” she moaned leaning into his touch.

“Want more?” he whispered lightly in her ear as he nibbled on her neck.

(Y/n) looked up and down the hall to where the bedroom was. She knew what was in there, she knew what was supposed to happen in there. It was their wedding the day they agreed to do this. She couldn’t back out now.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I don’t mind waiting a little longer” Levi said as he pulled away he could sense her discomfort.

“No, I agreed to tonight so we’ll do it tonight.” she said turning around to face him.

“I’m not going to force you (Y/n), if you don’t wan to, you don’t want to.”

“I’m just nerve… what if it hurts, what if I mess up, what if I’m no good?” she voiced her fears. Levi took her hand and kissed her knuckles

“Don’t worry I’ll teach you. I won’t let you get hurt”.

Taking a deep breath (y/n) stood up and took Levi’s hand leading him to their bedroom. Standing at the edge of their bed she takes another deep breath turning her back towards him “unzip me please” she held her breath as she felt him slowly unzip her. If you don’t count that one time, this was the first time they’d see each other without clothes. As her dress pooled at her feet (Y/n) slowly turned around showing herself to him. She was wearing a nice little white lace bra and panty set. White for innocence’s.

Levi groaned as he reached forward placing a hand on her hip giving it a light squeeze. His eyes roaming her body “still don’t have to”

“You’ll take care of me?”

“of course” Levi said as he leaned forward kissing her gently “ at any point if you don’t want to say something. No, Stop, Don’t and I’ll end it. no more, okay?”

“Okay”

Levi leaned taking her lips she hummed against his lips wrapping her arms around his neck. He pat her thigh signaling her to jump up wrapping her legs around him. He crawls up the bed holding her and laying her down on the pillows. “Beautiful he whispered against her lips as he kissed her deeply. (Y/n) moaned as he thrusted into her rolling his hips into her.

She tugged at his shirt. Leaning back he ripped off his shirt not caring about the buttons he’d fix them another time. He leaned down and kissed her again as he unbuckled his pants. Pulling away Levi trailed kiss down the valley of her breast and stomach. (Y/n) held her breath as he kissed the edge of her panties as he tugs her waist band he looks up at her silently asking for permission. She grants him such by lifting her hips.

Levi groaned as he sees how wet she is he grips her thighs and spreads them even wider. (y/n) looks down at him blushing embarrassed to have him seeing her intimate parts. Honestly she took a mirror down there once she didn’t know what so appealing or attractive about that part of her body and she really just had an urge to close her legs on him but she didn’t he was her husband and he had a right to look now.

“What’s wrong?” Levi he noticed how uncomfortable and tense she seemed. He assumed she was having second thoughts and was prepared to end it here.

“…you’re staring.”

“Yes, you look beautiful.”

“Beautiful? I’ve got my knees up to my chest with my vagina and ass out.”

“Yes, and you’re beautiful. Your vagina looks delicious.”

“ Delicious? Last time I looked it looked like a -….oh, oh”

Levi leaned forward licking a strive up her slit and flicking her clit with his tongue she tosses her head back. She moaned, whimpered, and whined as he worked his tongue worked on her spreading her folds and gently sucking her clit. (Y/n) had no other experience in the department of oral sex but she was pretty sure Levi was a pro. She pulled and claws at the sheet not knowing what else to grasp.

She starts moaning louder and arching her back as she found herself closer to the edge. But before she could fall over Levi pulled away letting her fall before reaching her high.

“w-what?” she asked as he pulled away wiping his chin. She looks at him as he unbuckles his pants she closed her legs becoming nervous again.

Levi leans down kissing her the kiss was slow and gentle passionate. “ We can stop right now, you know? We don’t have to keep going.”

“What about you?” She asks she could feel his harder on on her inner thigh.

“This isn’t about me.” he says kissing along her neck he hears her whimper as he kisses on a bruise he made earlier.

“I… I’d like to keep going” she said pulling at his pants “Please”.

Levi stands off the bed he is quick to pull off his pants while (Y/n) finally takes off her bra tossing it in the pile of clothes made at the end of the bed. Levi crawls back on the bed and over her. “just say stop and I will.” she nods hastily and wraps her arms around his shoulder and pulls him into a kiss.

“I’m ready”

With a kiss Levi takes a hold of his hard cock (Y/n) flinches as she feels it move along her slit she closes her eyes and tenses up as he begins to push forward he stops.

“tch, this won’t work if you’re so tense. This will hurt  if you don’t relax.”

“I’m sorry”

“we don’t have to do this.”

“no, no, I want to I’m just nervous.”

“what can I do to make you relax?” he ask sitting up and leaning on his knees she sits up as well.

“top?…can I be on …top?” she whispers shyly.

Without a word Levi lays down on his back and then pulls her on top of him. Her eyes go wide and she flinches as she feels herself sit on his cock“ This is what you want?” He holds her hips gently moving her hips grinding into him. She places her hands on his chest as she starts to move her hips on her own moving her slit up and down his cock.

(Y/n) sits up slightly she watches as Levi his cock and lines it up with her entrance. She slowly slides down his length. “Slow. Take your time.” he says as he noticed her look of discomfort he grips her hips to slow her down as she doesn’t listen moving to fast. She cries out when she finally takes all of him and falls on to his chest a few tears escaping her. Levi kisses her and and rubs gentle circles on her back to calm her pain and comfort her. He was never good with words.

(Y/n) couldn’t really describe the pain properly it wasn’t really a pain pain but a burning sensation all over and discomfort on the inside. When it all settled and she found her self adjusted the pain no longer unbearable she sits up.

Placing her hands on his shoulder and chest she slowly lifts herself up and then down in a slow and gentle rhythm. She bites her lips and closes her eyes moving her hips a quiet moan slipping past her lips. “That’s it, good girl.” he praised her as he groaned taking hold of her hips moving her so her clit was grinding into his pelvis. She moaned and cursed as her nail dug into his shoulder and chest moving her hips faster.

Suddenly Levi flipped them over and pinning (Y/N) by her knees. They both moaned out loud and her eyes rolled into the back of her head this new position letting him reach a new depth. “shit, fuck” Levi cursed as her walls fluttered around him. As he leaned down to kiss her she moaned into his lips as he began to thrust into her pushing her into the mattress.

“f-feel good” she stuttered against his lips he chuckled against hers not saying a word.

Reaching in between their bodies he found her clit she moaned and clawed at his shoulders as he rubbed her bud in tight and fast circles.

“AH, I think… I think-” she was on edge she could fell the tightness in her abdomen the knot growing stronger.

“Its’ alright. Go a head, cum”

And she did. Letting go the knot finally snapped and she was over the edge. She let out a silent scream and arched her back as she orgasmed.

As (Y/n) finished with her high Levi pulled up and with a few pumps groaned and came all over her stomach. (Y/N) gasped and whimpered as he painted her stomach and then collapse on his side.

“Sorry” Levi said after a few minutes pasted of them catching their breath. He  kissed her gently and up out of bed. She wondered what he was doing as he went to the bathroom trying to sit up she hissed feeling a slight pain between her thighs and on her hips. Looking down she found bruises on her hips and blood on the sheets between her legs. She gasped ignoring the dull ache between her legs she she got off the bed and began to gather the sheets.

“What are you doing?” Levi asked as he came into the room and saw her stripping the bed.

“It’s okay, I’m just- I’m changing the sheets. They’re dirty.”

“Don’t worry about that. I can-” Levi tried to take the sheets from her but she wouldn’t let him and insisted that she cleaned them instead.

“no-”

“(y/n)-”

“I got it I can do it”

“(Y/N)” He gave her a look that translated to ‘enough with this bullshit, they fuck is up’.

“… I bleed on the sheets” she said as she turned away from him.

he chuckled “I know. That happens when you first have sex.”

“But there was so much. I stained the sheets” Honestly she was embarrassed of the mess they made of in the sheets. She knew there was to be blood but she though it would only be a little bit. She didn’t think it would be so messy. Looked like her ‘Levi’ was coming out.

“I’ll clean them and if they truly are stained I’ll throw them out. You don’t need to worry about this. I’ve drawn you a bath. Go, I’ll handle this and join you in a bit”.

When Levi took the sheets from her she realized one she was still nude and two she had his dry cum on her stomach. With a yelp she covered herself and quickly rushed to the bathroom. Levi chuckled and eyed her butt as she skipped off.

-

“how are you?” Levi asked as he gently kissed her shoulder holding her tight to his chest as they both sat in the tub.

“I’m good. I feel really good. I didn’t expect it to be so messy afterwards but it was good , really good.” (Y/n) said running her fingers through his hair as she laid her head on his chest “ was it good for you too? I mean did you enjoy yourself?”

“It was amazing. You were fantastic. I enjoyed you. I’d like to enjoy more of you” Levi teased as he kissed her neck “ Maybe could enjoy you in the shower , then they’ll be less mess to worry about.”

Without words (y/n) pulled him into her lips for a kiss she would like that very much.

[thatrandomwriter]

Returning the favor

Merle x female reader, reader saves Merle’s life after he cuts off his hand

Warnings: sexual language, slight gore, cursing

A banging at the door made me jump awake - I never slept deeply anymore, and I spent most of my nights in and out of what could barely be described as sleep, easily woken and constantly exhausted.

My first thought was a particularly persistent walker. But then I heard a voice, raspy and southern “I saw you through the window. Open up. Or I swear, I’ll kick this damn door down.” It was most likely a looter. Opening the door to him seemed immediately like the stupid option, but if he was serious about knocking my door down then I would have to find a new place to hide out, an extra risk I could not afford to take. My best bet was to overpower him at the door. He’d seen me through the window and probably assumed that I’d be easily threatened, but what he hadn’t seen was the pistol I kept hidden by the door, or the knives I had stashed under my mattress and around the small room.

The banging on the door got more persistent. I grabbed a knife, and ensured my gun was easily in reach. It wouldn’t hurt to have extra weapons he didn’t know about.

I swung open the door. A tall, broad man stood in my doorway. One arm was pointing a gun vaguely in my direction, the other dripping so much blood it almost looked black. His hand had been cut off.

“Get out. All your shit is mine now, don’t think I won’t shoot you just cuz yer a girl,” He sneered at me, feigning confidence, but his skin was tinged grey and sweat was beading on his brow. He was weak and there was no way he could physically overpower me in this state, despite his muscular frame.

I raised a sceptical eyebrow at his threat. Then, in one swift motion, I knocked the gun from his hand and pushed my knife to his throat, firmly enough for a small bead of blood to gather on the edge of the blade. He opened his mouth, probably about to say something stupid, before the full weight of his body collapsed into me and he lost consciousness.

*

Somehow, with strength I hadn’t even known I had, I half lifted, half dragged the man’s body over to my mattress on the floor. It was clear he had lost far too much blood. I knew it was stupid, but some part of me wanted to help him, even though I knew he had come here to rob me blind, and possibly to kill me after he had taken all of my possessions. I told myself it was because leaving him outside would attract walkers. But really some part of me was still weak and soft, and somehow I had sympathy for a man who could not give less of a shit about me.

Minor medical training from books I had scavenged and stolen told me that he was in desperate need of stitches, and likely had a severe infection from his wound, and that it needed to be treated fast or there was no way he could survive without a hospital, which, for obvious reasons, was not an option. The building I had set up camp in was a small convenience store in the city which I used to run, and decided to stay in when the dead started walking. Unfortunately, the store had tempted many thieves in the early days, but as time went on, less and less people braved the city. The man must have seen that my store was the least damaged for several blocks, and identified it as his best bet at survival. He was right - behind the counter were antibiotics and just enough first aid equipment for me to have a chance at saving him. Even if he had stolen my supplies, it was unlikely that he would have managed treating his own wound.

The stitches were the worst part. I had never liked needles, and as far as facing my fears went, this was seriously hands on. It was messily done, probably a laughable job compared to professional standards. And I was sure that the amount of blood on the floor, my hands and staining my clothes was biologically impossible. But somehow he was still alive, something I still hadn’t decided was a good or bad thing. At least he was unconscious for now.

*

Two days passed. I was getting used to sleeping with him around, trying not to think about what he might do if he awoke while I was asleep- waking up to a gun in my face was a real possibility, but one that I had to risk. I slept on the floor next to the mattress he was occupying, uncomfortable enough to be exhausted but easily woken if he or the walkers became an immediate threat.

I sat next to him on the mattress, cleaning his arm, checking that the infection was fading and that the stitches were holding like they should be. It was strange looking after someone who had barely spoken two sentences to me, those sentences being delirious threats after severe blood loss. I often found myself wondering what he would have been like if we had met before the world had ended, at a bar maybe, where he could have bought me a drink or two. I like to think that he would have been the type to hit on me shamelessly and I would have been cynical but secretly loved his advances. I cut myself off in my head. It was ridiculous to think like this. With some effort, I focused back on his arm and began to change his bandage, but my eyelids were growing heavy and I had forgotten how comfortable the mattress was. Every time I closed my eyes, sleep tried to pull me down. I just had to keep them open, just had to focus-

I jolted awake. It almost pitch dark, if I had to guess a time I would have said an hour or two before dawn. There was a hand around my mouth and an arm was around my waist, holding me still against the warm, hard body behind me. He had woken up. Immediately I struggled against him, biting his hand and elbowing him in the stomach. He swore under his breath, but his grip only tightened around me.

“Stop wrigglin’. There’s walkers in here, I’m tryna figure out how many, so for fuck’s sake stay still.”

I nodded. He removed the hand from my mouth, but the arm around my waist stayed. Probably a precaution in case I tried anything again.

“Sorry,” I whispered back. “How did they get in - and when did you wake up? What’s your name? Why haven’t you killed me yet?” Now wasn’t the time for questions, but I was desperate for answers. For all I knew, the only reason he hadn’t killed me yet was to keep me as bait for the walkers.

He shushed me. Then, he finally let go of me and stood up. “Wait here.”

He walked off in the direction of a shuffling noise, and seconds later I heard the thunk of a knife through a skull, and the sound of a body hitting the floor. The sound, quiet as it was, caused another walker’s movements to become frenzied. I heard snarling and then the sound of a second body hitting the floor. There were no more walker sounds, just the sound of the man walking back towards me.

I jumped to my feet and reached for the knife normally hooked through my belt. It was gone, as was the knife under my mattress. I had no defence against the stranger that I had so stupidly taken care of.

“Window’s broken, s’what woke me up. You were out cold. Hope ya had a nice nap.”

I stood up, trying to read his face in the growing bit still dim light.

“Name’s Merle. And you, sugar tits, are exceptionally lucky that I believe in returning favours.”

So he didn’t plan on killing me after all. I shook off the lingering fear caused by both him and the walkers getting so close.

“Thanks. And you’re welcome, I stitched you up good. And don’t call me that, or I’ll chop of your other hand,” He smirked at me, knowing my threat was entirely empty.

“Oh yeah? I’m not so sure you wanna do that, sweetheart, you haven’t seen the half of what I can do with this hand,” His smile was suggestive and I could feel my face getting hot.

“I’m gonna board up the broken window,” I attempted to ignore his last sentence, but it was clear he could tell I was flustered as he stepped forward, closing in on me.

“Don’t ya think we should get to know each other a little first?”