#he's just so fucking funny when he's being ridiculous and i love him a lot

[thetarttfuldickhead]

It’s seems unlikely that Roy will have time to get up every morning to train with Jamie now that he’s been made manager, but since neither of them feels quite right if they don’t spend absurd amounts of time together they’ll meet up for breakfast after Jamie’s early morning work-out at least three times a week, and then go into work together.

As they spend more and more time hanging out without the excuse of training, though, Roy gets a little particular about keeping things extra professional in the work place: there’s no beating the favouritism allegations, not truly, but when at Richmond he tries to keep it at the Jamie is our best player and my special project and I am going to be extra hard on him-level rather than the Jamie is my best friend and I’m furious about how much I love him-level.

And Jamie’s good with it, too, being all respectfully Coach and doing as he’s told and carefully not giving Roy any lip while they’re on the clock. But because this is Roy it gets a little bit ridiculous at times, potentially leading to interactions like this:

A regular morning a few months into the season, Roy and Jamie arriving just in the nick of time, chatting and grinning as easily as you please when they saunter into the dressing rooms with just a few minutes to spare. Jamie goes to his cubby, Roy steps into his office – only to come right back out:

“Oi, Tartt! Training starts in five minutes, why the fuck haven’t you changed yet?”

As the room around them hushes for a moment, Jamie’s face is a study in confusion turning to incredulity to fucking really, man? “Sorry, Coach,” he says, and there’s just the tiniest hint of snark in his voice. “Bloke who gave me a ride here took ages finishing his toast ‘cause he couldn’t stop nattering on about this play his niece put on last night.”

At that, the rest of the team decide that this is just Roy and Jamie being Roy and Jamie again, nothing to worry about, so they go back to tying their shoelaces and what-not. Roy, however, takes a step closer, waving his finger in Jamie’s face.

“I’m not interested in you fucking excuses, Tartt. Part of your job is being here and ready on time, so don’t go fucking blaming others if you can’t manage that, do you hear me?”

Jamie just looks at him. Roy looks right back, not breaking, and eventually Jamie rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay. Sorry, Coach. Won’t happen again.”

“Good.” Roy nods slowly in that angry way of his, and then he stalks back to his office.

Jamie looks to Sam, probably, and they do their whole little thing of can you fucking believe it and you signed up for this, my friend, so you better suck it up.

Shaking his head at this coldhearted (but fair) lack of support, Jamie turns to Cockburn as he begins to hurriedly change, confiding: “The play was dead good and all, but not like I wasn’t there to see it myself, right? Didn’t really need a scene-by-scene breakdown of it, did I?”

(And then after training they leave together again to go have dinner with Keeley, probably.)

[star-girl69]

I Did Something Bad

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Demigod!Reader

—-

synopsis: you somehow become the target of a deadly vendetta, and it ends in an overnight stay in the infirmary, a lot of blood, and a lot of your scary girlfriend being her scary self.

a/n: save me clarisse “touch her and die” la rue save me save me save me save me save me save me… this is a completely self indulgent fic and no i will not apologize. love y’all!!!!!

inspired by an ask @nvirskies sent me

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

warnings: not proofread, VERY VIOLENT AND GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF Y/N GETTING INJURED!!!!! BLOOD!!!!! WOUNDS!!!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, anyways…. DANNNNNYYYYYY MY BABY!!!!! HES BACK!!!!!, ares cabin bonding time <3, FOUND FAMILY, y/n is crazy too, insane power couple who are insane together!!, y’all know what’s going on…… protective clarisse, possessive clarisse, insane clarisse, murderous clarisse, again clarisse gets a bit too into capture the flag, swearing, attempted murder!, LOTS of violence, kissing, clarisse hates talking about her feelings but she will do it for y/n, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

Clarisse loves capture the flag.

It’s the one place where she really gets to be in her element. That’s where she prefers to be- in the moment, hard and fast, a flurry of swords and adrenaline and the feeling of someone surrendering.

Of course, Clarisse is never the one surrendering. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone surrender to her.

Clarisse loves capture the flag.

And that love is also shared by her equally violently-minded siblings, which is why you’re sitting on her lap in the middle of the Ares cabin, listening to everyone scream and shout about tactics and plans and things that are just general boring.

Clarisse, of course, listens to everything. Silently humming to herself, drumming her fingers against your stomach, rolling her eyes and scoffing silently at some of her siblings ideas.

They all shout out ideas, but everyone knows that Clarisse has the final say.

You should probably be preparing with your own cabin- but this is just so much fun.

The tension in the room rises significantly after Nelson shuts down another one of Carrie’s ideas. Carrie has a mind made for the strategy of battle, where Nelson is all tough war and pain.

Clarisse likes to brag that she’s the perfect mix of both.

“I’m bored,” you huff, leaning back into your girlfriend. “Can they start punching each other again? Or something entertaining?”

She laughs and wraps her arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder. “You’re so violent,” she mumbles. “I’m supposed to be the violent one.”

“I jus’ think it’s really funny,” you shrug. “Like, can you blame me? It’s objectively funny.”

Danny, your favorite of Clarisse’s siblings, skitters through his older siblings and throws himself onto the couch next to you.

“Did they start fighting yet?” he asks, practically bouncing in his seat.

“No,” you sigh, dramatically.

Clarisse puts her arm around his shoulder, and you know she feels ridiculously proud over the fact that she’s the favorite of the most lovable member of the Ares cabin, and the fact you’re literally draped over her.

Not your fault she’s so comfy.

“Hey, how you feelin’ about tomorrow?” you ask Danny.

His face hardens. “I’m gonna fuck a bitch up.”

“Oh, my Gods,” you mutter, listening to Clarisse chuckle and pat his back.

“Hell yeah,” she smiles.

“Good!” you say after a second, feeling slightly disturbed over the 11 year-old’s colorful language. But, who are you to stop him?

Clarisse sighs after a moment, and you look up to see Carrie and Nelson finally at each other’s throats. Besides for the fact it’s just so funny when the siblings fight, they should get all of the anger out now so they can work as a team tomorrow.

“Well, no, Nelson, we aren’t gonna fucking ‘kill them with kindness,’ because that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Hey, fuckers,” Clarisse says, but they’re too absorbed in the fight to hear her.

You scramble off of her, climbing over Danny, watching in amazement as he opens the bag of pretzels he did not have in his hand a second ago- stuffing one in his mouth and holding it out to you.

These pretzels might have been buried in between the couch cushions. But they’re sealed, so who cares.

“You know what, fuck you, Carrie!” Nelson shouts, pushing her back.

“Askin’ for it,” she laughs, winding up and punching him straight in the face.

You can’t feel bad for the crunch, because Nelson should have know Carrie was gonna punch him- he could have at least put in an effort to stop her. Instead, he just stood there and took it.

“Oh,” Matty winces, sliding next to you. Why the hell are random things just appearing? Did he come out of the cushions too? Probably, seeing as he’s always falling asleep. “Askin’ for it,” he mumbles, shaking his head.

Nelson recovers from the hit and jabs at Carrie- but she stands there, hand on her hip, completely still.

Clarisse catches his arm.

He’s breathing out heavily, and the room goes pretty much silent- except for you, Danny and Matty chomping on pretzels in the corner of the couch.

“You’re fuckin’ embarrassing, Nelson.”

He pulls himself away from her and huffs, heading to the bathroom to deal with his bright red cheek.

Clarisse sighs heavily.

“Gods, can’t have one night without someone punching someone.”

Carrie looks around the room with a smug smile, scoffing when Clarisse shoulders her as she walks past. She lays down in your waiting arms, kissing your hand as you wrap them around her.

“Gettin’ on my nerves,” she mumbles, closing her eyes and leaning into you.

“I know,” you soothe, turning around and making a silly face to Danny at her dramatics.

—-

Nelson is obviously still angry the next day. His helmet doesn’t cover all of the nasty bruise on his cheek, a sickening purple against his tan skin.

Him and Carrie swap glares across the the throngs of red helmets.

“Okay, Carrie, stop,” you huff. “He might actually kill you. You’re the one who got a punch in- let it go.”

She turns to glare at you, now.

“Tell him to stop staring at me.”

“Well, you can help by looking away first.”

“Fine,” she mumbles, putting her helmet on and tightening her grip on her sword. Chiron made his usual speech around 10 minutes ago, and Clarisse has finally finished updating everyone- more like yelling incoherently at everyone- about their positions.

But you have a similar strategy.

The blue team has the brains of the Athena Cabin, but the red team has all the brute strength.

Clarisse huffs, walking over to you and Carrie.

“Okay, ready?” she asks, reaching over to tighten the straps of your armor- even through they’re perfectly fine- by habit.

Carrie let’s out a deep breath. “Yes. Very ready to fuckin’ pummel those blue shits and pretend they’re Nelson.”

“That’s the spirit!” you smile, slapping her shoulder. She rolls her eyes and steps away from you, smiling slightly.

Danny and Matty walk over, and your little band is complete. You hunt in the woods just south of the flag, deterring a lot of hopefuls. The older campers know to come up with sneakier ways to get by, but Clarisse is otherwise confident in those she placed by the flag to really protect it.

You strike out into an offensive stance, pointing the end of your blade straight at Danny- and he quickly counters with his own impeccable stance.

“Oh, yeah, they don’t stand a chance,” you smile, and he returns it.

—-

You take your normal routes through the woods.

With the added weight of you and Danny, the group is not as stealthy as they could be- but Clarisse is a secret teddy bear who doesn’t like to be away from you for long, and Danny is too young to be set loose, left to watch the big kids work, occasionally jumping in for a few swings.

Leaves crunch under your feet in the otherwise silent forest. You’ve already come across a few stragglers, and before you could even raise your sword the Ares siblings had disarmed them. Your heart squeezed seeing the absolutely heartbroken look on Danny’s face- he was promised that this time he could really fight.

And after you pulled Clarisse off to the side and reminded her of her deal- Danny was leading the group, with you and Clarisse behind him.

He marches tall and proud, sword pointed out, even though Clarisse scolds him and says his arm will get tired- he’s young and doesn’t listen to his half-sibling.

You smile, watching him, admiring how carefree he is. The walk continues mostly in a stealthy silence- Clarisse, Carrie and Matty has mastered the art of walking silently- so your cover is lost by you and Danny.

Of course, whenever you try to convince Clarisse that maybe you should go somewhere else- she looks at you like you’ve suddenly turned into a female Minotaur.

Clarisse, her hand in yours right now, has a hard time understanding the concept that she can’t be with you all the time. That you might get hurt, that she can’t always stop it.

It’s sweet how constantly concerned she is over you, it makes your stomach twist so good.

She squeezes your hand, bringing you out of your reverie. Voices.

“Danny,” you whisper, almost silently, kicking the back of his leg. When he turns around, frown on his face, you point towards the direction of the voices- and now footsteps.

You all stop in your tracks.

Danny practically jumps up in down, you smile wide, and Clarisse signals to Carrie and Matty, urging you and Danny closer to the action.

When they come into the clearing, a few Hermes kids dressed in blue bandanas, swords in their hands. They’re all strong, you’ve seen them around- recognize them vaguely as potentials that lost to Clarisse in ugly sparring matches.

The siblings have disappeared into the trees.

So it’s just you, unsuspecting, and Danny.

You can see the triumphant looks on their faces.

Except for one of them.

Nicky, maybe? You don’t care enough about him to know his name. But there’s something more in his eyes that you notice immediately, something similar to the passion Clarisse gets in her eyes at the mention of this game.

Danny jumps forward, sword swinging just the way his blood knows, the way his siblings have taught him meticulously.

They seem momentarily surprised at the force his small body can produce, quickly countering with their own jabs, swords clashing together. The other focuses on you.

You’re not worried, you know the siblings are just letting the two of you have your moments before they really come in and you can sit back and watch Clarisse fight. Muscles rippling, sick smile on her face, spear glowing with electricity.

He comes at you and your swords clash together, the force of it making your teeth ring- Gods, he’s strong. He pulls back and you do the same thing a few more times, neither of you able to get the upper hand- until he finally seems to realize his height advantage.

He swings his sword down on you, pressing down hard- and with gravity on his side you have to put all of your focus into stopping that downward sword.

You don’t see his foot coming out to kick you back.

You only feel it, boot in your chest, wind knocked out of you, groaning as you slam into the ground.

“Fuck,” you breathe, tasting blood in your mouth.

“Y/N!” Danny shouts, and that’s when you see his sword coming down on you again. He does it on purpose, that much is sword, the strategic placing of his sword slicing through the top of your arm.

He doesn’t mean to kill you. He means to hurt you.

His purpose isn’t winning the game, you realize as the blade tears through skin, his purpose is to hurt you. That’s what you saw in his eyes.

Delight that his prey was right in front of him.

The realization washes over you like a wave- but like the real ocean, another one comes- an overwhelming feeling of pain, blooming outward like a flower.

He bites his lip in concentration, standing over you as his blade sinks into the dirt. He smiles wide, hitting his target.

You scream.

It’s a quick stop. The clearing is filled with the sound of your screams, swords stopping in midair- everyone realizing simultaneously that you’re really hurt. That this boy hurt you on purpose.

Something cuts through the air, wind in your ears, swiftly burying itself through Nicky’s armor and into his side.

You’ve realized in the last day that men are stupid. First, it was Nelson not expecting to get punched, and now it was Nicky not prepared for a retaliation after hurting you.

The thick armor slowed down the spear, so it unfortunately stabs his side and falls right out.

He yells in pain, ripping off his armor, revealing a small cut. Nothing compared to yours, but you can faintly recognize the fire in his eyes before Matty is leaning over you and Carrie is wrapping a bandana above the pain in your arm.

You hear the sounds of something happening, someone fighting, skin on skin.

You hear all of this, you see all of it, but all you can feel is the burning, burning cut in your arm. It feels like he cut it off. Your mind is hazy, you know blood is gushing, you never knew something could hurt this bad.

You faintly realize you bit your tongue when you went down. Blood spurts from your mouth when you cough, when you groan in pain, when you say her name like a prayer over and over again.

“Clarisse,” you moan, legs twisting around, trying to get away from the pain that you can’t escape from. “Clarisse, Clarisse, please, Clar…”

Matty pulls your head into his lap.

You can tell it’s bad, you can see the queasy look on his face. You clench your fist- the one you can feel, at least- to keep from screaming, heels digging into the dirt. You’re still trying to get away. But you can’t. You can’t get away from this all consuming pain.

“It’s okay,” Danny whispers, suddenly appearing next to you. He voice shakes, he doesn’t know, he can’t tell you anything reassuring.

“Can you go find someone, Danny? One of the Apollo kids, anyone?”

He ignores Carrie, starring at you for a second longer.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, his voice quiet, finally able to act like the young boy he is.

“You can go,” you breathe, somehow finding the strength to make him believe you’re okay. “Go help me, okay?”

His little footsteps disappear into the woods faster than you’ve ever heard him run, even when they have his favorite brownies for dessert.

You let out a sob.

“D-did he cut it off?” you moan. “It feels like he cut it off, please tell me he didn’t… he didn’t cut my arm off…”

“Oh, fuck, no,” Carrie breathes, pressing down agains the wound to try and stop the blood from gushing out- but it doesn’t really help. It’s just too much. “I mean, it’s deep and it’s nasty, but you’ve still got an arm, don’t worry.”

She laughs, awkwardly, nervously. You can feel even more of your arm drifting away, blood pouring out onto the ground.

“Hey, hey, no,” Matty mutters, lightly hitting your face.

“Wha-”

“Can’t fall asleep, Y/N,” Carrie says, nervously. “Sit up against Matty, come on, huh?” you lean against Matty, head clearing now that there’s fresh air in your system.

Your eyes focus on Clarisse.

Except she’s not anywhere near you, she’s 10 feet away, punching Nicky so hard you’re surprised he’s still standing.

Carrie cringes. “Okay, maybe don’t look at that.”

But you’re sort of entranced by her. She’s not outwardly angry, her face reveals nothing- just a mask of hard, unrelenting focus. It should scare you, how much concentration she puts into her deadly punches, blood flying with each hit she lands. Her knuckles are red, his face is a mess, but it’s exhilarating to know she would do this for you.

A sickening crack rents the air. “My fucking nose, fuck, fuck, screw you, you fucking bitch! Fuck-”

The smallest smile creeps it way onto her face. She wipes her mouth, leaving blood on her lips- but she doesn’t seem to notice.

“I can keep going!” she shouts back, grabbing his shirt. “You wanna do that shit? I’m only getting started. I’m gonna throw you around, then I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you.”

“Wait! Wait, okay, wait, shit,” he breathes, holding his hands up in surrender. Blood pours from his nose, down to her hand bunched in his shirt. He’s taller than her, yet he’s surrendering.

“You’re pathetic,” she hisses, pushing him back. He hits the ground with a groan, trying to grab for a rock, a sword, anything to defend himself against Clarisse and her fury.

Clarisse loves capture the flag.

One of the reasons why she does is because she gets to let out all her anger. She looks at you, but not in your eyes- she looks at the wound on your arm. You can see the red pouring out of the corner of your eye- but you choose to ignore it, instead focusing on the way the fire inside of her gets relit at the sight of your blood. She has plenty reason to be angry now.

She grabs her spear, sauntering over to him, laughing at the way he can’t even try to get up.

“So fuckin’ stupid,” she smiles, tilting her head. Then the tip of her spear is pointing right at his neck, she’s standing over him the way he did to you. “How’s it feel?” she smiles.

He coughs, hissing in pain.

“I’m scared, Clarisse, okay? You got your fucking revenge, but it wasn’t me.”

She laughs, loud and boisterous. “I just saw you cut her, dumbass. I really should kill you, just as a favor to the world.”

“Paid me,” he coughs. “Drachmas, in exchange for hurting your girlfriend-”

She presses the blade against his throat, he yells out.

“Who?”

He stays silent.

“Who?!” she yells, kicking his stomach.

“Nelson!” he screams. “Nelson! Nelson paid me, please, Clarisse-”

She moves the blade away, and he hisses- she probably just barely drew blood.

“I’m not done yet,” she whispers, deadly promise dripping from her words. She turns around, fades out of focus for a second, and then she’s right next to you.

Her hands are cupping your face, she looks sick, seeing you like this up close- but all she does is kiss your forehead. Like you, she doesn’t want to look at your flesh and blood.

“I’m here, I’m here, oh, fuck. Gods, what the fuck,” she mumbles, looking very pointedly away from the wound, finally seeing how bad it is up close.

“Clarisse.”

“I know,” she whispers, smoothing your hair back. “I know, baby, I know, but it’s gonna be okay.”

Danny runs into the clearing, shouting “just over here” while healers follow him, immediately groaning at the smell of blood, the sight of it.

Clarisse switches places with Matty, holding you against her, kissing your head again and again, muttering about how brave you are.

You almost laugh at the odd looks the Apollo kids give her, unused to seeing the big bad Clarisse so soft. But they just don’t know her like you do. She doesn’t love them like she loves you.

One of them starts to clean the blood, and your eyes drift shut as the other starts to mend your skin back together.

—-

You wake up with familiar curly hair in your face.

You spit it out, groaning, mouth feeling fuzzy, everything feelings fuzzy.

“Clarisse?” you mumble, eyes not even open, but you wake up with that hair in your mouth everyday, and you’ve memorized the weight of her arm around your waist.

She sits up immediately, jumping out of bed, standing up and fixing her messy hair like someone’s gonna be there.

“Um, hello? I was speaking, crazy girl.”

“Oh, thank Gods,” she mumbles, blowing hair out of her face and sitting back down. “Thought we got caught.”

You look at her, then your surroundings-

“Oh, holy shit,” she says, staring at you like a deer in headlights. “Wait, you’re awake. You’re awake!”

She throws her arms around you, burying her face into your neck, reverberating with the sound of your laughter.

“You make it sound like I’ve been in a coma for 10 years.” Your heart drops. “Have I… been asleep for a while?”

“Um,” she says, softly, biting her lip as she extricated herself from your neck. “Capture the flag was yesterday, so… no.”

“So you’re just being dramatic?”

“Possibly,” she smiles. “It’s not my fault you’ve taken over my entire brain.” She shows her bruised knuckles, split open, already starting to scab. “I said not to fix ‘em up. They don’t hurt that bad, and they look fucking cool.”

You grab her hands, relieved it’s only been a day, kissing the rough scabs. She blushes, although she tries her best not to, breathing in deeply.

“How are you feeling, baby?”

You look towards your totally healed arm, finally realizing that you know have full control of your hands, unlike yesterday. It’s wrapped in a bandage for precautions, but it feels totally healed.

“All good,” you smile.

“You gotta take it real easy for the next week or so, yeah?” she fusses, brushing hair behind your ear. “So you call me, or one of my siblings, anyone to help you with anything. No lifting heavy stuff, don’t do anything too fast- you might tear the healing.”

“I don’t suppose you’ll carry me around like a princess?” you giggle, laying back, inviting her into your arms. She gets back under the covers, head against your chest so she can hear your heartbeat.

“That’s not a bad idea, actually. Practical. Very safe.”

You hit her shoulder. “I’m joking.”

“Eh, I’ll change your mind.”

You smile, running your hands through her hair, enjoying the early mornings with her warmth against you, soft sunlight peeking through windows.

She sits up after a moment, laying her head back on the pillow, arm back around your waist. She just sits there for a moment, you can feel her admiring you. Clarisse doesn’t look at you. She traces your face with her eyes, imagining it was her hands, her lips, she admires you like she sees a reverence in your eyes that has nothing to do with your godly parent.

“Can you promise me something?” she asks, whispering softly, even though you’re the only two people around.

“What?” you say, staring at the ceiling, feeling like you might fall back asleep.

“Don’t get hurt. Like, ever again, please.”

You smile. “Okay, baby,” you mumble.

“I’m serious,” she smiles, nudging your cheek with her nose. “I… I was really scared. And I don’t like to feel that way, especially when it comes to you. I was angry, too. I was so fuckin’ angry I’m surprised I didn’t kill him. You can’t get hurt like that, not again, you just gotta let me protect you. Or else I might actually kill someone, Y/N.”

“I know,” you mumble. “I watched you.”

“Did I scare you?” she asks, voice soft. There’s no hint of your loving, smiley Clarisse in this bed right now. She’s worried, as if she could ever scare you.

“No,” you say, honestly. “It’s sweet how far you’re willing to go for me.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles. “You better like it. Do you know what I got for that? Eight months no dessert. Five months cleaning the fuckin’ stables.”

You barely hide your laugh. “Oh, my Gods, are you serious?”

“Yes,” she grumbles. “But, I’ve decided it’s fine. You’re my loving girlfriend, right? You can sit there all pretty so I have something to look at when I’m cleaning. And you’ll share your dessert with me, won’t you?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, turning your head. “I will.”

“I really love you. My perfect pretty princess,” she jokes, smiling lopsidedly, and you return it. “You’ll let me protect you, and maybe I can get some decent sleep at night, huh?”

When she presses her hand to your face and her lips to yours, you think nothing could possible ruin this moment. It’s just you and her, and everything that’s beautiful.

“You always protect me, Clar,” you smile.

She smiles, lips grazing yours. This is your Clarisse. The one who smiles just for you, who puts her rough hand softly against your face. This is your Clarisse, the one who would do anything for you, the one who wants to carry you around, the one who wants to protect you and hold you and never let anyone fuck with her baby.

The door slams open, someone is laughing boisterously, another person is groaning in pain, and a familiar voice is shouting your names.

“Clarisse! Y/N! Clarisse, Clarisse! Y/N, Y/N, Y/N!” Danny shouts, dragging out the last syllable of your name. He jumps onto the bed by your feet, even when Clarisse frowns, looking at you like a puppy dog who’s just brought a dead bird to your doorstep.

And as you look at the scene behind you, Nelson being laid on another bed, Carrie being helped into the corner- laughing hysterically, knuckles split open.

Nelson’s face is practically unrecognizable.

You suppose Danny really did bring something unsavory like a dead bird, dropping it right at your feet.

“So, we all woke up right?”

Your eyes whip to Danny, shocked as he know launches into a story about Carrie waking up to Nelson saying he hadn’t been called to the Big House yet, maybe he would get away from it- but swiftly received punishment in the form of Carrie’s fists. With Clarisse in your bed, no one had the guts to stop them, and they fought for what must have been 10 minutes- Nelson very obviously losing.

“And, now we’re here,” Danny sighs, breathing out after his long and embellished rant. “But you’re awake, Y/N!”

He looks at your skeptically- specifically, at your arm.

“Can I hug you?”

“Oh,” you smile, your heart twisting with such a fondness for this wonderful little kid. “Of course you can, Danny,” you smile, opening your arms wide.

“Yes, just be careful,” Clarisse cautions, her arm around your waist. “Watch the arm, huh?”

“He’s just a baby, Clarisse,” you mumble, breath messing his hair.

“He’s 11.”

“Baby,” you reinforce, squeezing him tighter.

“Y/N… you’re crushing me,” he groans.

“Oops,” you say, letting him go. “You’re just too cute,” you coo.

Clarisse scoffs from next to you. You smile, kissing her cheek. “You’re beautiful. Scary, dangerous. Not cute, though.”

She hums. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Carrie walks over, sporting her split knuckles, also opting to let them heal naturally like Clarisse. She shows them off with a wide smile, even as Nelson screams in the background when they reset his nose.

Matty rubs his temples.

You smile, looking around at your very dysfunctional, very awkward, but loving family-adjacent.

“Hey, did we end up winning the game?” you ask.

Clarisse snorts. “Oh, nah. Without us, they were lost. Who cares, though?”

“Yeah, I liked beating Nelson up much more than I would have liked winning,” Carrie smiles.

“Next time,” Danny starts, “Can I lead again?”

Clarisse squints at him. “…Maybe.”

You wink at him, nodding subtly.

“Okay!” he smiles.

Clarisse kisses your forehead.

“I love you, pretty baby,” she mumbles.

You smile. “I love you too, scary baby.”

—-

clarisse when she sees y/n get hurt: oh so the only natural response to to THROW A FUCKING SPEAR AT SOMEONE

appreciation for the fact she threw it from like really far away and just tore through his armor likkkkeeee

nelson and nicky sitting in the infirmary together hugging each other terrified clarisse and carrie are going to come back for more

nicky does not sleep at night anymore SHE SAID SHE WASNT DONE

—-

shout out to my baby danny he carried this fic fr

shoutout to y/n for getting WRECKED so we could have this beautiful moment w clarisse

shoutout to matty for being his beautiful self

shoutout to carrie for being her violent self

and finally shoutout to clarisse for being overprotective and insane

��-

clarisse after she actually convinced y/n to let her carry her around everywhere: 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

bitch is so happy…

—-

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[shankschewtoy]

had this random thought and thought I'd request. what if a random kid just comes over and confesses their love for you (a fully grown adult.) and the one piece men are just standing there like 'wtf is this kid on'

a/n - OML 💀💀💀 I’m laughing so hard right now 😭 anon this idea is hilarious how do you guys think of such funny stuff

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, it’s a random kid not kidd himself- just wanted to clarify that bec i thought it was kidd, major crack

- If it wasn’t already apparent, Luffy has made it quite clear that he loves you VERY much

- let’s say you’ve been on this island for maybe about a month, and you love it there! The weather’s nice and cool, there’s a nice ocean breeze, and the sun is always out but not too strong

- you were sitting down on a bench with nami and robin, waiting for Sanji and Luffy to come back from their shopping spree

- suddenly, a kid appeared in front of you, holding a bouquet of flowers and a little hand made present

- “Um-! You’re super cool and pretty/handsome! And- I love you! Please take this gift and these roses!”

- the shock that just froze the three of you

- robin raised an eyebrow while nami burst out laughing, unable to breathe

- “BAHAHAHAHSUBDIDBD- YOU’RE LIKE 22 AND THIS IS A LITTLE ASS KID-“

- “Nami! Be nice! Um… Thanks kid- I like the flowers. But like Nami said- I’m a lot… Older than you.”

- The kid looked like they were about to start sobbing, so you quickly took the flowers and present to make the kid happy

- the present was a little origami heart and a butterfly, it was actually quite adorable

- All of the sudden, Luffy fucking tackled the poor child, flying across the sidewalk

- “Y/N’S MINEEEEEEEEEE!!”

- bro was hissing and growling like a feral monkey at the poor kid wtf 💀

- Sanji had to rip Luffy off the poor child and this grown man was throwing a fit, yelling at this kid

- “Y/N’S MINE! I LOVE THEM!” -luffy

- “I LOVE THEM TOO!” -kid

- “I LOVE THEM MORE!” -luffy

- “NO I DO!” -kid

- this argument continued for about 20 minutes. 20 minutes

- you had to drag Luffy and I mean DRAGGG him back to the sunny while he kept yelling at the kid about how he loved you more

- “Hmph! I bet i could take him in a fight!” -luffy (please keep in mind that this child is like 6)

- “Yeah ok luffy, don’t beat up a child.”

- “I’m a pirate! I’m already a criminal! HEY KID! GET OVER HERE IMMA BEAT YOUR ASS!” *feral screeching*

- “LUFFY NO-!”

- (rewatched marineford, I promise and swear I did not cry)

- ace is a bit more mature (not a lot) but he’s more mature than Luffy

- it was such a nice day! You and ace were hanging out on an island as a tiny vacation for the crew

- the crew got some ice cream, went shopping, and stocked up on food for the day

- ace, being the gentleman he is, carried all the bags for you, and even bought you THREE scoops of ice cream (y/n pls give me some this weather is ridiculous💀)

- ace was telling you about a story when he was younger, it was mainly about how Luffy was really stupid and loved to eat random mushrooms from the forest

- “He was SO dumb- it was really bad. He hallucinated for like- 2 days, and almost ate Dadan.”

- “HE ALMOST ATE HER?”

- “HIS TEETH WERE AROUND HER ENTIRE ARM.”

- bro Luffy is wild

- all of the sudden, something tapped you on the shoulder, and you turned around, not seeing anybody behind you

- “Um.. Excuse me?”

- The voice was coming from below, and it sounded like a kid’s voice! As you looked down, you saw this cute little child with brown hair and green eyes, their cheeks were bright pink, and they were holding something behind their back

- “Uh hi there! Did you need something from me?”

- “Um… I- I wanted to give these to you.. I picked them myself.”

- this kid was adorable, they were handing you a hand picked bouquet of flowers!! How adorable is that?! You smiled and pat the kid’s head softly, thanking him for the flowers

- ace had a big grin on his face, he found this kid absolutely adorable too

- “Uh- I think you’re super pretty/handsome! And- I think I really love you!”

- now this is where you both froze and stared at the kid with wide eyes, what did this child just tell you?..

- “I’m sorry what?” -you

- “I love you.” -kid

- “What?” -you

- this poor kid was about to cry, this was his first rejection after all 😭 and you could tell if this kid started crying, holy shit this kid’s going to SCREAM

- “Ok- sorry! I was just confused for a sec.. Are you sure you mean me? Not that little kid over there with the pig tails?”

- this kid was determined, shaking their head as they took your hands in theirs

- Ace was struggling, struggling not to just start cackling, the only thing keeping him from laughing was you pinching his arm

- “Ace don’t even think about laughing.”

- “I’m sorry- *wheeze* this is hilarious.”

- Ace’s face was turning red, bro looked like he was choking on food. But you really didn’t know what to say to this kid- I mean- you’re an adult and this is a literal child. Secondly- ace was your boyfriend already

- “Hey kid, how about I buy you some ice cream and we can talk about y/n together eh?” -ace

- The kid smiled and took Ace’s hand. How cute, your boyfriend was talking to this little kid about all the great aspects of you

- You heard about 1009 compliments today, and it warmed your heart 💜💜

- ace is awesome, 100% husband material

- doesn’t matter if it’s a child, girl, or animal, he’ll cut them up into pieces if they hurt you or his friends

- but outside of his tough demeanor, zoro was actually pretty loving, especially when the sunny was docked on an island and it was just a day to hang out

- he liked taking naps on you, literally anywhere (he sleeps the best on your ass 💀💀)

- today was not a nap day sadly, but as long as he was with you, today would be a great day

- you had dragged him along to stock up on cola and things for the ship, the whole crew was hanging out on this summery island too

- you weren’t sure why you hadn’t invested some berries into getting a leash for your boyfriend because oh my god

- this bitch keeps getting lost

- you could be looking at some cute shoes for two seconds. TWO SECONDS. And this man disappears, and he somehow ends up on the island next to the one you were on 💀💀

- but anyways, you were now holding him by his collar, keeping this dumbass marimo from running off 👍

- “Y/n are we almost done? I’m kinda tired.”

- “In a second.”

- “you’ve been saying that the past hour.”

- zoro’s feet are about to die

- all of the sudden, a kid tapped your shoulder, looking up at you with wide eyes

- “Oh hello! Did you need something?”

- “Um… I have some flowers for you!”

- The kid handed you a nice bouquet of red, white, and pink roses that were all tied together with a lovely ribbon

- Aw- this little kid was so cute! How nice of them to give you some flowers, right?

- “I- I think I really like you!”

- *pause*

- Maybe this wasn’t so nice 😭

- “Sorry what?” -you

- “I like you!”

- “But- you’re a kid!”

- this kid started sobbing, clinging onto your waist like a baby, crying about how they thought you were so pretty/handsome

- “Hey! It’s ok! Can you let go??”

- zoro was getting pissed, he didn’t like it when kids whined and wailed about stuff, especially about you

- zoro pried the kid off, setting him down with a glare, “Get off y/n, they’re mine, get lost kid.”

- “Hey zoro be nicer! It’s just a kid.”

- “NO! I LOVE Y/N” -kid

- basically this is what happened

- zoro and this literal child were pulling you back and forth, giving you severe whiplash 💀

- “Omg Robin come over here this is hilarious!!” -nami

- “NAMI PLS HELP ME.” -you

- “I think you’re fine y/n! Just wait until robin gets here!!” -nami

- wow what help you are nami 😭😭

a/n - Luffy hisses at people and growls 💀

[notjustjavierpena]

i love how playful javi and wife are in the bedroom sometimes. cracking jokes and being gross. they’re so comfortable with each other and it really shines in these moments.

I would love to see a drabble focusing on them absolutely loosing it laughing while being intimate.

Giggles (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: This was lovely to write! However, it was so hard (no pun intended) to come up with a joke on the spot. I have a whole list now for future use. Also - when does the word count get high enough for it to stop being a drabble?

Summary: You make a joke for the first time during sex.

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, female masturbation, oral sex (m receicing), mouth-fucking, dirty talk, cumshot, giggles and love

Word count: 1.2k

Giggles

It has been four months now and it is the best sex of your life. It is not like you have a million different experiences to compare with being with Javier Peña but whenever he has you naked, you just know that it doesn’t feel like this with others and you doubt others have even felt the way you do with their own partner. The stupid man makes you come so hard that you lose sense of time and space, and you walk around in a cockdrunk haze that consists almost entirely of waiting for the next time you can see him.

One more thing. He makes you giggle. Tiny snickers come from your mouth even when he is inside of you, and his eyes gleam with boyish pride and joy whenever you accidentally snort from laughter during sex.

“What was that?” He always asks, pulling your hands from your face whenever embarrassment heats up your cheeks enough for you to want to hide behind something. Seeing the look of humiliation on your face when doing the perfect imitation of a pig during a time when you should be imitating the flawless femme fatale is apparently too funny for him not to mock lovingly. Sometimes, you think he might joke around on purpose for the sole benefit of hearing you laugh but you don’t dare hope that is the reason because that’ll mean this is love.

Like that time when you banged your dominant hand into your doorframe during a date night, hobbling around with a string of swears falling from your mouth, and then later couldn’t give him a handjob with your other one because the angle wasn’t right. He had looked at you with a shit-eating grin and asked if you weren’t ambi-dick-trous to which the laughter you gave made the pain subside completely.

However, despite all this, you still haven’t managed the courage to joke back at him during your most intimate moments. You suspect it is some kind of ridiculous attempt to maintain the illusion of being the sexy new girlfriend - God, that is what you are, isn’t it? His girlfriend - but at this point, you think the easiest way is just to break the rules you have made for yourself and dive headfirst into the waters of being funny in the bedroom too. Together.

You have been going down on him a lot lately, eager to please whether it is on your knees or lying down in the bed if it means being soaked in his taste and scent. That is why it seems like the perfect opportunity to earn a chuckle from him.

You are on your back on your bed, and have a hand on Javier’s lower stomach, nails scratching through the hairs right at the beginning of his happy trail, whilst the other one is between your legs to rub circles on your clit in a desperate fashion. Javier is fucking your mouth, the soft skin of his cock sliding past your lips over and over. At this point, you feel like an expert in knowing what to do with your mouth to make him twitch and moan. It is rough, dirty, and only painful in a way that has you groaning for your orgasm.

“I can hear you,” he says breathlessly, voice shaking from how sensitive he is due to his own climax climbing. He is making the bed rattle from his thrusts, “You gonna come with my dick in your mouth, baby?”

You whine to say yes, and then you’re off. The first crash of pleasure washes over you and your jaw goes even slacker as everything below your belly button starts to pulse with no other reason than to make you feel like you’re in heaven. Your eyes roll back, your toes curl and you gag wetly with every other moan you let out.

“Jesus Christ, you are gorgeous when you come,” you hear Javier moan above you, sounding like he is just about to blow. You look up through your damp lashes again, and sure enough, you see that Javier’s eyes are closed and his jaw is locked tightly as he uses you to get off.

You tap his torso with your palm and he pulls back a moment after, brows furrowed and just about to ask when you interrupt him in his thoughts of concern.

“Come on my face,” you order but your voice is hardly commanding as it is hoarse from being throat-fucked.

Javier growls, already wrapping his hand around his spit-slicked dick. He strokes himself fast, eager to paint your face, “Fuck yes, I will.”

“Yeah?” Your voice oozes with dopamine and sex too, “Come on my face, Javi, please.”

“Eres una chica sucía (You’re a dirty girl),” he pants and dares to look down at you.

“I know,” you smile innocently, propping yourself up on your elbows, and opening your mouth with your tongue slightly out.

Javier is done for. He comes with a groan of your name, and it sounds so sweet even if followed by filthy swear words. You take the first shot of come in your mouth but as Javier’s climax peaks and his sounds become whines, his aim falters and the next spurts hit your cheek, jaw, and even across your chin.

He sounds like someone who’s trying to desperately outrun something or someone. His breaths are fast and strained, and you hold onto his sides to keep him steady as he moves to pick a few wipes from a pack on the nightstand that’s being more and more frequently used.

That is when it happens. You hadn’t actually planned what to say, thinking it would come off as too neurotic to schedule a joke. For this reason, it also takes you by surprise.

“So,” you say casually as he sweetly rids your face of his spill, “Come here often?”

He looks down at you with surprise and stops cleaning your face. He doesn’t say anything at first and even though his silence probably only lasts for a second or two, you feel panic rise in your chest. This is what you got for trying to be the funny girlfr—

Javier bursts into laughter. It is loud and unrestrained, and so pleasant to your ears that a flash of making him crack up like that every day for the rest of your life pops up in your mind. How on earth have you waited so long to hear that sound? You watch in awe as he gets crinkles around his eyes, chest rising and falling in short bursts of the lightness laughter brings.

The laughter develops into giggles instead and he is finally able to wipe the rest of your face clean. You find everything about it so infectious that you cannot keep your own snickering at bay. You join in, and after he throws the crumpled wipes on the nightstand, he flops down on top of you to pull you close to his chest.

You feel the vibrations of his chest as he snickers. He doesn’t seem to be able to stop even if it wasn’t that funny - evidently high on post-orgasmic bliss - and you don’t want him to anyway. It is sweet happiness even as he pulls back for a second to look at you, only to start crying with laughter all over again.

You have nothing that you need to get out of bed for. You have all the time in the world. You giggle along with him and listen to his stuttering breaths and try to think of another joke.

.

.

.

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[itgetsdark-x]

imagine sneaking off with dbf!joel as he’s at a family function with your dad. i can totally imagine him being smug because he knows that the guys closer to your age can’t make you feel nearly as good, a hand clamped over your mouth as he fucks you stupid in the bathroom or his truck.

A/N: oh anon, the thought of this had me going feral, like barking at a wall feral so I had to write it… I hope you like it! pls send me more ideas like this, I love them a lot <3

Summary: you knew that today was the day that you pushed Joel Miller over the edge; it was either going to be the best mistake you’d ever made or the ablsolite worst one.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), it’s just smut tbh, unprotected p in v (pls be sensible, wrap before u tap), lil bit of pussy slapping, age gap (unspecified age of reader, but definitely over the legal age <3)

Word Count: 2.9k

Characters: dbf!Joel Miller x (f) reader

“Meet me upstairs in 5 minutes, I’ll be in the bathroom, knock twice and I’ll let you in. Be a good girl now.” Joel growled in your ear, his hot breath fanned over your neck and you swallowed roughly. He squeezed your ass and with that, he was gone and he had disappeared upstairs. 

—

You stared blankly into the empty kitchen and out to the full garden; your dad had called everyone round for a ‘family’ BBQ but of course that extended to Joel & Tommy Miller and all their work colleagues. You were celebrating your dad’s birthday and he wanted ‘all his closest’ people there. You had known Joel for a couple years, he was a colleague of your dad’s and in turn, they became super close in their personal life. 

You had always played a bit of a game with the older male; he was the same age as your dad and you knew it was a bit stupid but you couldn’t help it. It started slow, you would hold onto him for a second too long during a hug, brush your fingers on his thigh if he told a funny joke and you even got as bold as to sit in his lap. From the moment you placed yourself down, you felt the older male shift awkwardly underneath you and you felt his cock swell in his jeans, his hand gripped the chair he was sat in and you smirked when you saw his jaw tense. To everyone it seemed innocent, just Joel’s best friend’s daughter being friendly to someone who was in her life a lot. You both knew differently and you loved to see his reactions to each tease. 

That’s how you were in this position today and you knew you had pushed him too far this time. It was a warm day so you donned your best sundress for the occasion; it was short, shapely and left little to the imagination. You sat down on one of the garden chairs and basked in the sun, as soon as Joel walked into the garden you had clocked him and you bounded over to him to give him a hug, as you ran over, you made sure to flaunt your assets and push your arms together to accentuate your cleavage. It felt a little bit ridiculous but you couldn’t help the way your privates throbbed at the thought of what effect this would have on the older male. 

Joel swallowed roughly and gave you an awkward hug; he breathed in your sweet perfume and cleared his throat just to try and ground himself once again. 

“Hey cupcake,” he smiled. “I like your dress.” He mentioned casually as he let his eyes rake down your body. 

“Thanks Mr. Miller, daddy bought it for me especially for today! I was hoping you would like it.” You purred suggestively and you were grateful other guests were too preoccupied in their conversations to pay any attention to you both. 

“Well. I better go wish your old man a happy birthday.” Joel declared awkwardly, touching your arm as he walked past you. Yeah, today was going to be a really long fucking day for Joel. 

“Let me know if I can get you anything.” You smiled, your voice sweeter than apple pie as he left. 

You resumed your position in your garden chair and stretched your legs out onto the chair in front of you since no one was occupying it. You were wearing sunglasses and even still you caught the way Joel stared at you. He gripped the beer bottle in his hands tightly as you hitched your dress up by a few centimetres to reveal a wider expanse of your thighs. 

You chuckled to yourself and laid there, quietly on your phone as the day wore on around you. You briefly left your position to grab some food and another drink but besides that, you occupied that spot for most of the warm and sunny day. 

You felt Joel’s eyes on you the entire time and it made you laugh at how obvious his gaze was. You would be lying if you said it didn’t make you wet, just the thought of him getting all worked up over you when you both knew he couldn’t have you. Yeah, it was exciting to say the least. 

Joel was in a conversation with one of your neighbours, a single lady from a few doors down, her back was turned to you and yet, still, even when in a conversation, the man couldn’t tear his eyes off of you or your body for a single second. You smiled over at Joel and cocked an eyebrow at him in question as your fingers toyed with the hem of your dress. You saw the way his Adam’s apple bobbed under his facial hair and you smirked at the male. You looked around quickly to make sure no one else’s attention was on you and for the first time, you did something truly risky. 

You brought your legs up so they were bent at the knees slightly and you let your thighs fall open, with that, you gently pulled the light material of your dress up higher to just expose your naked privates to the older man as he spoke. 

Joel spluttered on his mouthful of beer and you laughed loudly. You quickly adjusted your position and your dress as your neighbour turned around to frown at you. God if she only knew the half of it. 

You got up and headed into the kitchen, it was cooler in there and it was quiet, just as you reached up to grab a drink from the top shelf of the fridge you felt someone’s body pressed behind yours. 

“Meet me upstairs in 5 minutes, I’ll be in the bathroom, knock twice and I’ll let you in. Be a good girl now.” Joel growled in your ear, his hot breath fanned over your neck and you swallowed roughly. He squeezed your ass and with that, he was gone and he had disappeared upstairs. 

As soon as Joel left the room, you went outside to find your dad. 

“Hey princess, you okay?” He asked and pressed a kiss to your cheek as he held an arm around you. 

“Yeah, I think I laid out in the sun a bit too much so I’m gonna go and lay down in my room for a bit. Is that okay?” You asked sweetly. 

Your dad nodded and kissed your cheek again. “Of my course, my love. You need anything at all? Need me to check on you in a bit?”

“NO!” You answered too quickly and awkwardly waved your hands in front of your face. “I mean, I’m probably just gonna take a nap and drink some water. I’ll be fine, thanks daddy!” You said innocently before disappearing inside again. 

It was a fairly busy get together, there were some neighbours that your dad invited because ‘what if they get upset that we were having a party without them?’ and then there was your family which was fairly large on your dad’s side and of course, there were the Miller brother’s. You were just grateful that Joel wouldn’t be missed too much as there was a lot going on around you to distract. 

As you climbed the stairs of your house to go to the bathroom, your breath was shaky and your stomach felt heavy with nerves and arousal. Why did Joel want to see you in the bathroom? Did he want a private word so he could scold you for your behaviour? Did he want to warn you to stop otherwise he would tell your dad? Your thoughts swam around your head and you brought your shaking hand up to knock on the door. Once. Twice. 

Joel opened it quickly and just as quick, he grabbed your wrist roughly and pulled you into the small bathroom. 

“What in the fuck do you think you’re playin’ out at outside, darlin’?” He asked, he had shut the bathroom window as the room sat directly above the garden and people would be able to hear your conversations clearly with it open. 

“Whatcha mean, Mr. Miller?” You asked quietly, batting your eyelashes at him innocently. 

“Don’t give me that innocent bullshit, darlin’.” He hissed, his Southern drawl only more apparent as he cursed at you. “You go around showing your cunt at any boy who looks your way?” He asked and you blinked stupidly at him. 

He had walked you backwards until your behind hit the bathroom counter. You shook your head at him to say no. 

“That’s right; because you know all the silly boys your age won’t give you what you need. You just need a real man’s cock, don’t ya?” He asked quietly, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you so you were seated on the counter behind you; your thighs spread so he could stand between them. “Feel what you do to me.” Joel snapped, his voice was sharp and dominant. 

Before you could respond, Joel was grabbing your wrist tightly and he brought your palm down to stroke along the length of his cock. It was rock solid under your touch and you shuddered at the thought you had driven him this mad. 

“A-are you angry with me?” You asked quietly, peering up to the taller man through your eyelashes. 

“I should be, I should be absolutely furious.” He muttered. “As soon as I saw you in this pretty dress today I knew it meant trouble. What do you think you’re doing parading around your family with this pretty little pussy free?” He asked and raised a questioning eyebrow at you. 

You shrugged slightly as your hand squeezed at the tip of his length. You had been with a few boys before but even on their best day’s they couldn’t compare to Joel’s length and thickness. 

“I know what you were doing, little girl. You wanted to drive me insane so I would finally act on it and fuck you, just show what a real man feels like.” Joel growled and it had your privates throbbing with need. 

You nodded and bit your lip as Joel’s hands were hitching your dress up over your thighs. He made an animalistic noise from the back of his throat as you spread your legs further to part your wet lips. Your arousal was apparent, your pussy was sticky and wet with pure need as Joel ran his fingers through it. 

“All this for me?” He asked quietly and you whimpered at his touch. “Shhh, that’s it. Stay quiet.” Joel cooed and slapped your pussy once. 

You bucked your hips forward and gripped the edge of the counter. 

“Fuck. Please.” You whimpered out the curse and Joel tutted at you disapprovingly. 

“That’s not the innocent little girl I know, hm? Your daddy taught you better manners than that.” He teased and slapped your pussy again, the vibrations rippled through your clit and you clamped your teeth into your bottom lip. “Bet he doesn’t know how much of a little slut his baby girl is though, does he?” Joel asked and slapped you again, you whimpered weakly and wrapped your legs around Joel’s thighs to try and bring him closer. 

“Please. Mr. Miller, please fuck me.” You pleaded and Joel barked a laugh into your face. 

“Oh darlin’ you’re about to have my cock buried in your cunt, you can call me Joel… or Sir.” He smirked as he watched your eyes flutter shut at his words. 

Joel wasted not a second longer and pushed his shorts down just enough for his cock and heavy balls to be freed. His length stood to attention and you looked down and breathed heavily at the sight. Joel tapped the tip of himself to your clit roughly and you looked at him with pleading eyes. 

He smirked and pressed himself into you slowly, he held your hips roughly to position your perfectly so he could buck his hips up to meet yours. As soon as you enveloped Joel with your perfectly tight heat, he let out a quiet groan. You couldn’t help the shaky moan that escaped your lips as Joel filled you up, your walls stretched around him and you winced at the sting of him. 

Joel didn’t give you a second to adjust, instead he drew his hips back and snapped them forward again roughly. You moaned again and Joel shot a disapproving look in your direction. 

“You’re gon’ have to keep real quiet, baby girl otherwise people are gon’ hear you being such a slut for your daddy’s best friend.” He growled and his voice was barely above a whisper. 

You nodded dumbly, all coherent thoughts had escaped your mind as Joel drove his cock into your roughly. He gripped your hips tighter, his fingers dug into your skin hard enough to bruise you and it only drove you madder. 

“Please, sir.” You whined. “Feels so good.” your voice was shaking as he snapped his hips forward again. 

“Yeah? You ever been fucked good like this before, little girl? Bet no boy could fill you up the way I am. You ever let anyone cum in this tight little cunt?” Joel hissed, his voice low in your ear. 

“N-never!” You whimpered. “Fuck, please do that, Joel. Please fill me up, I wanna feel your cum dripping out of me for hours.” You whispered, ensuring to keep your voice quiet. 

Joel smirked at that and he removed the grip from one of your hips, he brought two fingers up to your lips and you eagerly sucked them in and your swirled your fingers around his digits hungrily. His fingers were so thick and your eyes dropped in lust as you tried to suck them down deeper. 

He smiled as he worked his fingers in your mouth and his cock into your wet pussy. Joel removed his fingers from your mouth and a thick line of spittle dripped from your mouth, he took his fingers and circled your puffy clit with them. He elicited a filthy moan from your lips and Joel clamped he other hand over your mouth tightly causing your eyes to widen in panic. 

“Keep your god damned mouth quiet.” He growled and bucked his hips up, you kept yourself steady by gripping the countertop edge as Joel’s hips fucked up into you. 

He worked his fingers harder over your clit, the spit and your arousal causing them to slide over the sensitive bud with ease. Your walls fluttered around Joel’s cock and your stomach knotted tightly as your orgasm approached. 

“That’s it. Cum for me,” Joel whispered, his hand still clamped over your mouth. You sucked in a deep breath through your nose. “God I love the fact I’ve ruined this little pussy for any other boy now. Gonna be wishin’ it was me filling you forever now.”

You closed your eyes and tried to breathe through your orgasm as Joel’s cock slammed into you repeatedly. He was right, you were ruined for any other man now and silently, you cursed him for that. You knew this could never happen again. Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes as you shuddered and your hips bucked, it was too much and you moaned under Joel’s grasp. 

“I’m gonna remove my hand from your mouth so I can fuck my cum into you properly but you better keep your pretty little mouth quiet.” Joel hissed, you nodded silently, he smiled at you and removed his hand. You gulped down a big breath and Joel resumed his vice-like grip on your thighs. 

He snapped his hips at a punishing rate and you breathed shakily as his cock head nudged your cervix; it verged on painful but you silently took Joel down and gasped loudly as his seed spilled into you. You felt the warm spurts of his semen fill you entirely and you clamped your walls down on him, trying to get every drop of cum from him. 

“Good girl.” Joel cooed as he pulled out from you with a wince. He took a step back and admired how your pussy started to leak with his cum. You smirked at him and dipped a finger down to collect some, locking eyes with Joel you brought your finger up to your mouth to taste the liquid and you moaned softly as you tasted the mixture of yourself and Joel. 

You couldn’t help but notice the way his spent dick jumped at the sight and he clenched his jaw tightly. 

“Fuckin’ hell, darlin’. You tryna finish me off here?” He spoke quietly and tucked himself back into his shorts. 

“Just wanted to see if you tasted as good as you felt.” You giggles with a shrug. 

“Look, this can’t happen again. It was a moment of weakness, we’ve clearly scratched an itch but I can’t do this again. Your daddy would kill me.” He whispered as you jumped down and looked up at him innocently. 

You laughed dryly and raised a brow at him. “Yeah, sure. It won’t happen again, Mr. Miller, until it does.” You winked and reached up to kiss his cheek. 

You brushed past Joel and went to your bedroom to lie down, your head was swimming and your skin was clammy with your previous activities. 

——————————————————

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——————————————————

[yuukiiqwq]

Dandelions: Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

His heart beats only for you while yours beats for someone else, so he made a wish on a dandelion, hoping it would come true.

Context/Warnings: Fem!Reader, Soft!Sukuna, swearing, unrequited love, flower language, a bit suggestive

Wc: 2.7k

Part 2

It's not like he wanted to fall in love with you. It was actually your fault. You weaseled your way into his life and then his heart. If only you had left him alone, then none of this would have happened. But you were too god damn stubborn to leave him alone. It was all your fault.

It was so stupid how he fell in love with you. Sukuna absolutely hated cliché stuff. And here he is going through the stereotypical cliché plot. He even told you how much he hated it. He remembers telling you how he rather die than read those stupid romance books you like to read. They were full of stupid plot with disgusting mushy feelings. Basically, it's the same thing in every story. He always felt like his ears were going to fall off listening to you talk about those stories. Recently, you started to read this one-shot called Dandelion. Something about a guy having unrequited feelings for a girl for years and the girl liking someone else.

Absolutely fucking ridiculous.

Sukuna remembers how he met you. It was a few years ago, back when they were still in school. He was minding his own business and then you fucking popped out of nowhere. He wouldn't tell you but you scared the shit out of him when you suddenly appeared.

"Yknow, smoking is bad for you."

He turned around to see you at the door smiling.

"Y'know, not minding your own fucking business is bad for you," he scoffed. "Get out of here. This is my spot."

You walked up to him and snatched the cigarette away. You tossed it onto the ground and put out the light.

"They can cause many health problems," you say as you crossed your arms. "And I don’t see your name anywhere on this rooftop."

He glared at you– "Listen here, you brat. What I do has absolutely nothing to do with you. So skip along to your friends and go bother them instead."

"What if you are my friend?" You said smugly. Your eyes were shining with mischief. "And since you said to go bother my friends, that's what I'm doing."

"You must think you're so fucking funny," he snarled at you.

You put your hands on your waist– "I am actually very funny."

He took a step towards you and towered over you. "Leave."

You looked up at him with a deadpan expression.

"No."

"Last warning. Leave."

"Make me."

News flash – He wasn’t able to get rid of you. He was unsuccessful no matter what he did.

You decided to bother him every single god damn day. Somehow, you always showed up at the rooftop whenever he was there. You just wouldn't leave him alone, so he decided to ditch the rooftop. To say he failed was something he didn’t want to admit. He didn't fail. He just decided to ignore you. But then you showed up in front of his classroom. You somehow found his classroom.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance and quickly tried to leave before you could catch up to him.

Mission escaping the brat– failed.

You were a fast little thing. You immediately caught up to him and were now walking side by side with him. This caused a lot of people in the hallway to stare at both of you. You two were an unexpected duo to see together.

"Sukunaaaaaaa"

Great. You even found out his name. Amazing. Whoever told you his information is dead. He's going to kill them.

"Sukuna, if you keep looking like that, you'll end up being super ugly. No wonder you don't have a girlfriend."

Sukuna turned around to face you– "You trying to pick a fucking figh–"

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence as you stuffed a mochi in his mouth. Where the fuck did that mochi come from?!

He quickly chewed the mochi and swallowed.

"Did you fu–"

"Was it good?" You quickly interrupted. "It's a new flavor that came out recently. A friend gave me some to try."

"I don't car–"

"It was a limited edition sale. My friend camped outside the shop for a whole day just to buy all the stocks."

You continued talking about it, and Sukuna wanted to just smack you. You were so annoying.

"I am going to smack you if you keep talking."

You immediately stopped talking and walking. You looked up at him and grinned mischievously.

"Wow, Sukuna. Didn't know you were kinky like that. It's ok, though! I like it rough, but take me out to dinner first. Bedroom activities can come later~"

This caused him to explode in anger. You were teasing him. He immediately stomped away from you. He could hear you laughing as you tried to catch up to him. Fuck. You were annoying as hell. Sassy and challenging him in every way.

Your eyes were gleaming with mischief. Did you have to say that? Now he wanted to put you in your place. Bend you over under him and–

Oh fuck. Now you implanted a curse in his head. Fucking minx.

After months of you constantly pestering him, he grew used to your presence. He started to enjoy it. Wait, no. He meant he was just tolerating you.

Yeah. That's right. He's just tolerating you.

"Sukuna! Stop!!!"

Sukuna immediately halted– "What's goin–"

"You almost stepped on some dandelions," you say as you knelt down to the floor.

Sukuna felt like he was going to pop a vein. He can't believe you stopped him for a weed. Can you let he walk to a restaurant in peace?! It was fucking Saturday. He should have never allowed you to follow him home back then.

"Are you fucking joking with me right now?" He looked down at you as you pluck the dandelion. "You stopped me for a fucking weed?"

"First of all, it's a flow–"

"It's a fucking weed."

"It's a flower!" You huffed. "And it's a wishing flower! You make a wish and then blow away the seeds!"

"Great, now you've gone crazy. Just the thing I need from you. As if you're not annoying enough."

"I have not gone crazy! People make wishes on dandelions!"

"And do you know if any of them got fulfilled?" He raised his eyebrow at you. "And I'm sure the people you talk of are kids."

"Well um–" You try to think of something to say as a comeback but come up with nothing.

He smiled smugly– "That's what I thought."

"That's not the point!" You quickly shoved a dandelion in front of his face.

"Get that weed away from my face. I'm starving for food, and you're stopping me for a weed."

"Geez, stop being a party pooper," you sulked. "Make a wish! Maybe it will come true and prove you wrong!"

"I am not going to do something so childish," he said as he pushed your hand away.

"I'll buy lunch!"

Sukuna stopped and thought about it for a second before saying– "And dinner."

If he was going to indulge in your childish antics and look like an idiot, he better get something out of it.

You reluctantly agreed, and he snatched the dandelion out of your hands. He made a wish and then blew the dandelion seeds away.

"There. Made my wish. Now I hope your wallet is ready."

"Whatever, you glutton! What did you wish for?"

"None of your fucking business brat."

The two of you spent a lot of time together. You eventually introduced Sukuna to your other friends. Which surprised Sukuna because at this point, with the amount of time you came and bothered him, he believed that your friends were imaginary.

A girl named Shoko Ieiri, who looks like she's sleep deprived. A guy named Suguru Geto, who, in his opinion, looks weird. Why is he smiling like that!? And finally, a guy named Satoru Gojo. He was the worst out of all your friends. He didn't do anything to him, but just looking at him makes Sukuna want to get rid of him. Cut him in half. Sukuna didn't understand exactly why until he looked at you, looking at him.

Although Sukuna personally knew nothing about love, he knew what he saw. He seen enough people do what they do when in love. He heard enough about the stupid love stories you like to read. He can see it in your eyes when you look at your friend. You liked him.

The way your eyes light up whenever he comes toward you. The way your cheeks start to turn red with a small blush. The way you nervously play with your hands. The smile you give whenever you're around him. A smile that can rival the sun. He felt a pain blossom in his chest as he clenched his fist. These are things he has never seen or gotten from you before.

He hated everything that was going on right now. He hated the way you would sneak glances at him when you think no one was looking. The way you lean into his touch. The way you looked at him with pure adoration and love.

He absolutely hated it.

It took a while for Sukuna to understand why he hated Gojo so much. Why just the sight of Gojo annoyed him. And it's all your fault.

He didn't even know when these feelings started. Was it when you guys first met and you stood your ground with him? Was it when you teased him? Was it when you kept bothering him? Was it when you guys would go out for lunch or dinner together? Was it when he took care of you when you were sick? Did he fall for your looks? Your personality? Was it because of the times you've spent together?

Fuck. He was pissed. Here he is, catching those disgusting mushy feelings for you. Something he sweared would have never happened, and he doesn’t even know how it even happened.

"Fucking hell," Sukuna sighs as he run his hand through his hair.

It should be fine, right? He'll just ignore this. Move on like he didn't realize he fell in love with you somewhere along this journey. These feelings won't last anyway. It will disappear soon. You liked someone else, too, so it should be easy to move on. Right?

Fucking wrong. He's never been more wrong in his life.

All of you have graduated and are now doing your own thing. You all meet up regularly to hang out. Although Sukuna made an effort to see you daily as much as possible–

Wait, no. Correction: He sees you daily because he knows you'll do something stupid if he wasn't watching over you. Nothing else, really.

It's not like Sukuna had trouble moving on. He's not dreaming about you daily. He doesn't want you. It's not like that at all. He obviously moved on from you while you still liked Gojo. No point in these feelings since they're a nuisance.

Deep down, even if he ignores it, he knows he still likes you. But it's not like you'll ever look his way like the way you look at Gojo. Unless an opportunity arrives and it just so happens to arrive. That opportunity came knocking at his door, and he isn't going to let it slip away.

After years watching you love someone else, now he is watching you get your heart broken by that same person. Honestly, he never understood why you fell in love with this guy. That guy was a child in a man's body. Like, who even drinks those sugary, coma-inducing drinks??

But here you are smiling through the pain. He saw small tears forming in your eyes before you quickly wiped them away and said there was dust in your eyes. Others may not notice it, but he does. He saw the hurt in your eyes when Gojo told them that he fell in love at first sight with someone.

Great. Now he wants to murder Gojo even more now for hurting you.

However, he can't help but feel happy? Relief? He doesn't know what he felt. He just knew that an opportunity was given. But he isn't going to be a shitty person and confess to you right when you got your heart broken. He'll wait until you heal. If you ever will. After all, he had already kept his feelings to himself for years. What's wrong with waiting a bit more?

He could make you happy. He would give it his god damn all to make you happy. He would never hurt you. He wouldn't make you cry. At least not cry in a sad way. You crying under him, though, is a different story–

He quickly shakes his head to get rid of that thought. He's getting distracted. You got him wrapped around your fingers, and you don't even know it. He couldn't help but sigh. He really is still in love with you.

He watches as you and Geto try to give Gojo advice on how to win over the person he likes.

"You're an idiot," he interrupted.

He stared at Gojo as he said it, but it was meant for you and himself, really. Both of you two are idiots. Both of you have unrequited love, like in those shitty stories you read. He really is living in the stupid cliché plot he hates. And it's all your fault.

A few months have passed since then. He knew you had mostly moved on. He can still see the hurt sometimes, but it's fading. He knew he should make a move soon. After all, if he doesn't, what if someone else approaches you? But he also knows that just because you moved on doesn't mean you'll see him as he sees you. So he's willing to wait for that day. The day you look at him the way he looks at you.

So here he is. Standing in front of a flower shop. Looking extremely out of place. If you told his past self that he fell in love with you and is now trying to pursue you, he can see his past self attempting murder. He really can't believe he's going to order flowers.

He took a few deep breaths and walked in.

The minute he walked in, a florist greets him– "Hello sir! How may we help you today?"

"Can you make me a boutique?"

"Of course, sir! What type of flowers would you like for the boutique?"

He wanted something to convey his feelings and message. He's done some research about flowers and their meaning. Many websites showed different things, but he eventually settled for one.

"I want..."

When he finally finished ordering the flowers, he went home. On his way back home, he noticed a dandelion.

"...it's a wishing flower! You make a wish and then blow away the seeds! ...People make wishes on dandelions!"

He stared at the dandelion for a few minutes before he clicked his tongue. He bent down and plucked it. He then made a wish and blew the seeds away. He didn't know why he did it. It's not like the dandelion would make his wish come true.

"Tsk. Can't believe I did this. It's fucking stupid."

You really made him a god damn softie so it's about fucking time you take responsibility.

A few days later, he asked you to meet him at your usual spot. A place that only the two of you knew. When he arrived with the boutique, you were already there. You were sitting on the bench, looking over the city.

He quietly stared at you for a while. You were so beautiful sitting there. If angels did exist, you'll be one of them. But then again, your personality was more like a devil. You cast a curse on his heart, and honestly, he didn't mind it. You can curse him for his entire lifetime as long as you accept him.

"Hey, brat. Look behind you."

When you heard the sound of his voice, you quickly turned around. You looked at him and smiled until you noticed the boutique in his hand. You gasped as your eyes widened.

Red chrysanthemum and astilbe. I love you and I will be waiting for you.

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.2

George: We don't have to keep [an image] up, we just remain ourselves. Don't we, Ringo? Ringo: well, we do, I mean, it's the other two we're worried about. It's a joke about John and Paul being bigheads, but a crazy person – definitely not me – could also see it other ways if they wanted to.

Paul talking about their mutual friend when asked how they met and John telling him not to complicate it. They're so married it's ridiculous. 

Always looking at each other with every single joke. 

He looks like he's in a lovely enclosure at the petting zoo. I've always been so confused by this footage. Can anyone tell me what the hell is going on?

I LOVE that we now know Paul was cast as Thisbe and John as Pyramus and then they switched. I'm actually dying to know how and why that happened though. My first instinct was “of course. Paul was scared he'd look too convincing as a woman, so John did it for him.” But no. Paul dressed as a woman at the cavern, wore ladies lingerie in Hamburg, and wanted to do a full drag show on TV in the early seventies. So why not Thisbe?

Why do you as a man randomly bring up the color of your friend's dick while staring lovingly into his eyes?

It must be noted. They had a wonderful time playing star-crossed lovers. 

The bickering pianos are so cute! And then John (prompting Paul): and John and I . . . Paul: oh I hate this. John: will probably carry on . . . Paul: we'll carry on songwriting . . . You just know Paul didn't hear the end of that one interview answer for a long long time. And it's because John just had to hear it over and over again.

Love the editing so that Paul smacks John's ass right as the symbols crash. 10/10 A+

This iconic moment. Poor George tally number 4.

Interviewer brings up marriage and John takes a shot like he wants to forget that the whole concept even exists. Literally poor Cynthia. And not even in an “lol her husband's gay” type of way. Just in a genuine “the way their relationship fell apart actually breaks my heart because she really did love him and in his way he loved her too but they were just so thoroughly incompatible” type of way. 

Paul: makes a stupid dad joke. John: giggles gleefully and kicks his feet

I have never seen someone so disappointed that they didn't need to lend their friend a pen. Paul had his hand in his pocket before John even asked the interviewer for a pen and when the interviewer gives him one, Paul literally hangs his head like he's just been cut from the school play. I just. The obsession is frankly cartoonish. But also, he just needs to be needed, you know? How many songs does he have which conflate being needed and being loved?

The juxtaposition of Paul and John elaborately messing with the interviewer (“yes John Lenard, that's me” and “actually it's done by mirrors.”) vs George's “I don't know” and “yeah.” it's actually kind of mean editing but whatever. It is ULM not UH. Someone should make that though.

Again, John. Calm down. He's not that funny. Just look at Jimmy. That's the normal person's reaction to that joke. John is half the reason Paul has such a big head honestly. 

Paul's answer to a question about the Beatles gaining a lot of adult fans is nice. Sometimes he shocks with a bit of wisdom. Sometimes his words don't get messed up at the point they hit his throat as he says. 

What the fuck? Okay so the interviewer asks Paul what he likes in a girl, right? I've always been too distracted by Paul saying he likes a sense of humor and John doing an obnoxious fake laugh in the background because John. It's embarrassing how obvious you are. Stop.

But I never noticed Paul actually says “people”. The interviewer asks about girls and he says he likes “people - er - girls” to have a sense of humor. Huh. Okay. 

So ULM was actually what made me a serious Beatles fan and this was the first moment where I had to pause it and verify to see if what I'd just read was actually true. It really is a doozy. 

How to flirt. A guide by Paul McCartney. Step one: get your crush’s attention. This should be extremely easy. Just gesture vaguely at something you're holding. He'll be interested. Step two: do something suggestive to a phallic object. Step three: that's it. You've got him. He'll do whatever you want.

The editing in this thing truly is brutal. Just the jump cuts from a question about Cynthia to John and Paul making each other laugh to girls screaming to John and Paul unnecessarily touching to girls passed out on the ground to John and Paul desperate for each other's attention to girls waving signs to John and Paul sharing weird eye contact to girls physically mobbing them to John and Paul beaming at each other to a question about Jane. It really does drive home the immense pressure of compulsory heterosexuality back then. 

Then a question that's obviously meant to poke a nerve and start some bad feelings. “Paul. Is John the leader of the Beatles?” Easily rebuffed with “no I'm not” and “there's no real leader”. I know I'm dramatic but really it's like every aspect of that society was against them you know? And they just kind of said "fuck you, we're crazy about each other."

Question: what do they think about when they're imprisoned in their hotel rooms? John: we don't think about one thing. *Whips head to look at Paul* well, some of us do. Oh and you know that how exactly? What, do you just have a printout of his every thought? Do you keep constant tabs on his dick?

Someone give me the heterosexual explanation of that moment when John very clearly and obviously checks out and appreciates Paul's ass as he and Ringo are pretending to be cowboys. Seriously. I'm at a loss here. 

Poor George tally number six? Seven? They're asked what they'll do if England reinstates the draft. John brings up Southern Ireland. George brings up Germany. Paul and John plan their joint escape to Southern Ireland as if George hadn't even spoken. 

The choice to play “Another Girl” over that quote of John's being like ‘Paul's actually much meaner than i am’ is great. Because that's seriously such a jerk song. I don't much like Jane, honestly, but fuck, she deserved so much better than Paul. He was such a douche.  

Literally all the song choices in this are phenomenal. “Hide Your Love Away” over the montage of 60s homophobia moments? It's so genius. Saying everything without saying anything. Letting the Beatles do the talking. 

The laugh track over the cartoon is honestly so sad. Nobody asked them if they were okay with being mocked like that and they never even made a dime off it. What would that have felt like to know that your being “too close” with your best friend was a running joke on TV?

“It's only love and that is all. Why should I feel the way I do?”

[sohnric]

bad idea, right? – k. sunwoo

pairing: soundcloud rapper! sunwoo x gn! reader

genre: exes to lovers, angst, suggestive. i know this is toxic as fuck dont @ me sometimes i like to write shit like this because it's realistic...

word count: 4k

warnings: a whole lot of arguing, swearing, both of them being toxic and childish, a heated makeout session, overall just..messy. so messy.

a/n: similivinlife u inspired this. not my proudest moment but oh well 😵 the original of this draft was for the fic dancing in my backseat on @rrxnjun that i didnt end up using and revamped for this, so if u see any similarities it is because both fics are mine :P and once again, as always, thank u @csenke my sweetest beloved for beta reading 🤍

“I don’t think you can imagine the things I have to deal with about that track, like, I was literally in the town yesterday and around six people stopped me and wanted the backstory and I don’t know what, and it’s really, really annoying–”

Your voice cuts off, being replaced by a beat that makes acid taste on your tongue and hair stand up all alert, like a feral cat’s would when you try to get close to it, making you immediately turn off the song, letting a scream out into your pillow. There’s a storm of emotions inside of you as you take the phone you’ve been listening to the new song on back into your hand and pull up his number– because you blocked him everywhere else in hopes of never seeing his face again– and shoot him an angry text about the matter.

you [7:21pm]: are you kidding me???

you [7:21pm]: you are really so damn egoistical for doing this 

you [7:21pm]: really don’t think about anyone else except yourself huh

you [7:21pm]: ignore my messages again like the last time and i swear to god i’ll send someone to beat your ass

Fingers quicker than your own thoughts, you hammer down the messages on the keyboard, laced with the fury that’s been shaking with you ever since you learned that he released a new track that included yet another one of your voice messages you sent to him. It was excruciating to listen to, to say the least– your dignity stripped away slowly, piece by piece with the unsettling realization that your personal matters are now out there in the open, for everyone to see and judge, for the whole world to pick apart and analyze. Which is kind of funny, considering the nature of your breakup– you’re not so sure his fans would like what they would find out about him, had they dug deep enough.

Not saying that you are innocent in this matter, of course– you just don’t think it’s really fair to not have the platform to tell your side of the story.

don’t pick up [7:24pm]: feisty one aren’t ya

don’t pick up [7:24pm]: what’s this about

Clenching your jaw as you stare at the messages popping up on your screen only a few minutes after yours get delivered– which is unusual for him, to say the least– you work your way through another angry reply.

you [7:25pm]: your song???

don’t pick up [7:25pm]: did you like it? ;)

A dry chuckle escapes your throat at the last message. Of course you didn’t like it. You weren’t really a fan of the invasion of your privacy. You didn’t like the fact that he once again used your voice without permission, letting the whole world listen to your angry words that were addressed to him and only him. What was there for you to like about the song? His cheesy lyrics? The way he acted like he was way above you, belittling you with the power he had over you with all those voice messages? 

you [7:26pm]: yes i loved the invasion of my privacy a lot, thank you sunwoo

you [7:26pm]: isnt this illegal? ill look into it

don’t pick up [7:27pm]: now you’re being ridiculous.. its just a song y/n :) 

Was he being serious? Just a song? What about the prying eyes staring at you whenever you walk through the campus? What about the whispering behind your back whenever you sit in the school cafeteria? The pointed fingers whenever someone recognises that it’s you– the one that dated the good-for-nothing Soundcloud rapper and then broke his poor little heart. Was it ever really just a song?

you [7:28pm]: you cant be fr rn..

don’t pick up [7:33pm]: ah…let’s just talk abt it then

don’t pick up [7:33pm]: i’ll pick u up at 8? 

Staring at the messages on the screen, you let out another dry chuckle. The skin of your fingertips tingles when you swipe across the surface of your phone, opening the messaging app once again and tapping on the little bubble on the bottom, making the keyboard appear. The gears in your brain turn in swift motion as you try to sound nonchalant in your response, typing and deleting the message again, never getting the tone quite right. 

Responding to your ex boyfriend’s jabs and teasing in person seems to be easier for you, contrary to popular demand– you don’t have much time to think of your answer before the time frame between your arguments would turn too awkward with the silence, so you just say the first thing that comes to your mind. It comes naturally to you, though, and while you don’t particularly enjoy the fury and adrenaline that his smug smirks and jarring words make you feel, the tension his sudden messages built up only makes you more hesitant. 

You haven’t met up with Kim Sunwoo since the day you ended things, and you know damn well there’s a good reason for it.

Seeing him around campus or at parties of your mutual friends is a whole other thing than being with him in a closed space, all alone. It’s been a month since you ended things and while you are fairly certain that Sunwoo is a major jerk that is out to ruin your life, you can’t really tell if you’re actually over the major jerk that is out to ruin your life.

Seemingly letting Sunwoo know that you have the chat open, letting him watch your chat bubble pathetically appear and disappear in consistent time intervals, another quick message is shot your way, making your heart drum against your rib cage in even swifter motions. Running your hand through your hair, you sigh and drop the phone into your lap, helpless.

don’t pick up [7:40pm]: i’ll take it as yes

Sighing to yourself, you stand up from your bed and put on some presentable clothes. You don’t want to give Sunwoo any ideas, and that’s why you only change into clean sweatpants and a tank top, not putting much effort into your appearance at all. You need to send him the signal of being nonchalant– although your stance on the way he uses you in his songs is full of anger and resentment, you don’t want it to seem like you care much about the man himself at all.

Dragging yourself out of your room and putting on your shoes, you bump into your roommate Aeri passing you by with a mug of tea, her hair in a towel as she just came out of the shower. “You’re going somewhere?” 

“Going out,” you grunt.

“Oh?” she hums, leaning into the doorframe, “with who?”

The question catches you off guard. Turning around on your heel, you flash her an innocent smile, brain thinking of every possible solution you could use to not tell her that you’re going out with the exact person you’ve spent the last few weeks grunting over in dismay. “No one important,” you start, when her face morphs into a distressed frown.

“Is it Sunwoo?”

“Look, I-”

“It is fucking Sunwoo! I heard you scream into your pillow just now, I should’ve known it was that prick again,” she grunts, her guess confirmed by the very obvious discomfort on your face, suddenly in a hurry when you try to get out of the house in one swift motion and save yourself from the cross-examining conversation that’s surely about to happen judging by the look in Aeri’s face.

“I gotta go-”

“What about all your ‘I don’t ever wanna see him again’ talk?” she sighs, clearly disappointed with your life choices. 

“Look, it’s about the songs he’s been putting out. He’s being an ass about replying back to my messages and god knows I’m not calling him, or else he’d record it and put it in another song like the freak he is,” you squint your eyes at her, making sure your intentions are clear to your worried roommate. 

“Oh, right, because he’s going out with you just to talk,” she mutters, “when all you two have done since you broke up is argue. Mhm, seems about correct,” Aeri adds, making the situation even worse than it already was, because she’s right, after all– when have the two of you held a normal conversation in the past few weeks? Seeing him tonight might just be the worst idea of your life– right after deciding to date him, of course– and you’re completely aware of the fact.

Opening your mouth to answer with a jarring comment meant to put your roommate back in her place, the words are taken off your tongue when you hear the ring of your phone, the notification on your screen flashing with his messages.

don’t pick up [8:04pm]: youre 5 mins late

don’t pick up [8:05pm]: come out

“Look, I gotta go. We’ll talk about this later,” you mumble as you take your bag off the hanger, Aeri’s disapproving eyes following you as you head towards the door. 

“Right. Have fun,” she ironically sings, knowing very well what Kim Sunwoo’s intentions are for the night. Still, you fakely gag to her comment before you’re out the door and walking down the entryway.

As your figure walks out of the apartment complex, you almost don’t notice the man. You were expecting him to be waiting just behind the door, resting against the wall as he usually did back when you two were dating. The sight that meets your eye shocks you a little when you find him leaning against a 2007 Audi A4, the silver exterior of the car contrasting with the darkness of his clothes, hands folded on his chest as he watches you with an overly-confident smirk. 

“Took you long enough,” he teases as you finally cut through the distance. 

“Didn’t know you were so eager to see me,” you bite back, eyes scanning the vehicle. “Did you finally get a car with that new profession of yours? Or is that another one of your friend’s again?” you point towards the car, making the boy chuckle.

“Mine,” he says, “my ‘good-for-nothing career’ is taking off, as you may have noticed,” he hums, referencing all the arguments you two used to have about his dreams and ambitions, making you wince a little at the comment. You never believed in him ever making it big– you just didn’t think his dreams were ever really realistic– but judging by the way it’s been going for him, you must admit you may have been wrong with your snarky arguments before.

“Well, it’s not much, then,” you mutter instead, pretending to judge the state of his old, used-looking car.

“Gets the job done,” he shrugs as he peels himself off the door, opening the passenger side and sparing you a short glance. “Hop in?”

Sunwoo doesn’t wait for you to sit down so he can close the door after you– instead, he walks around the front of the car to the driver’s side, getting in himself– much to the gentleman he’s always been. Making sure you slam the door shut with as much force as you can, just to anger the man and his new toy, you fasten your seatbelt and watch as Sunwoo winces, but doesn’t mention it when he turns the engine on with a turn of the key and drives off the parking lot.

“Where are you taking me?” you ask, watching as the male snickers to himself. The calmness of his composure makes you oh so annoyed, making you despise every second spent together with him in the small space breathing in his cologne and listening to the songs playing through the speakers, reminding you of the playlist he’d always put on when he was given the privilege of the aux cord.

“What? Are you scared I’m gonna kill you?” Sunwoo jokes.

“Seeming that you’re batshit crazy, one can’t know what to expect from you nowadays,” you grunt, making him cheese with amusement.

“I thought I was just ‘a loser Soundcloud rapper that can’t do anything in life’,” he repeats to you a sentence you uttered out upon your breakup, the emotions getting the worst out of you after the way he’s been treating you. “Would a loser like me kill you? I don’t think so.”

“Very funny, Sunwoo,” you ironically bite back, rolling your eyes at his composure. The fact that he seemingly has the upper hand on you in the conversation makes you falter a little bit. “I just wanted to talk about the songs you’ve been putting out.”

“You wanted to tell me how much you like them? Thank you, I’m flattered–”

“No, you idiot. I wanted to talk to you about how uncomfortable they’re making me feel!” you yell out, making the male wince. 

There’s a momentarily silence in the car as the male drives, the streetlamps disappearing out of sight as he drives away from the city, into more sparse areas. His voice is a little more serious when he speaks up now, the lack of teasing in his tone making shivers run down your spine. “I don’t think it’s that serious, really.”

“Really?” you chuckle. “Because I don’t find it fun when people stop me on the street and ask all about our relationship, Sunwoo. Because I don’t know if you noticed, but you never asked for my permission when you used those.”

The sound of your own voice resonates through your brain, the first voice message he ever used in one of his songs (the one that made him finally more popular, funnily enough) making you sigh out in the darkness of the car. ‘Just.. I dunno, I said sorry, I apologized, I don’t know what more you want me to do.. like, what’s going on? Literally nothing, so like.. can’t we just… move on from this and… fucking let it go?’

“One would think you’d stop sending me these after the first one,” Sunwoo utters out, voice low and almost a little amused, which makes you tip over the edge.

“And I would think you wouldn’t use audio of me being vulnerable with you in a fucking song that everyone would hear, Sunwoo!” 

“Oh, did you mean that part where you called me a hypocrite for hanging out with my friends from high school without telling you? Or the part where you cursed me out after you broke up with me because I dared to text you again–”

“I was trying to pierce things back together!” you yell, making the male quiet down, resulting in taking a right turn towards a dead-end, the road approaching a forest. Not a single soul is to be found around here except the two of you, and when he turns the engine off, but stays staring ahead of him towards the trees, you continue with everything you’ve been holding inside of you– instead this time, your voice is more quiet, not having to scream over the sounds of the car anymore.

“I was apologizing. I was trying to make us work, Sunwoo. And just because you didn’t see it or didn’t have it in you to pay attention to me that night, it doesn’t give you the right to exploit me for your gain and make a fool out of me in front of everyone,” you say, watching as the male chews on the inside of his cheek.

“You are the one that broke up with me,” he says into the silence, “not the other way around.” 

A moment of silence hangs over you two like a heavy jacket. You were well aware of the fact– you broke up with Sunwoo after the night he went out with all of his female friends from high school, not telling you a thing about it before you found out through an Instagram story of one of them. You knew he was being petty, you knew he was doing it just to get back at you– because you never passed out on a chance to make him feel jealous, getting back at him for all the controlling comments he would make whenever you went out to clubs with your girlfriends– but it still drove you up against the wall and made you break.

Maybe you and Sunwoo weren’t made for each other. There’s no denying that you loved each other– you just didn’t really know how to handle your relationship. You never really learned how to handle problems. How to resolve issues. Both of you were too immature for the other, and it would never work– you only came to this conclusion after many tear-filled evenings, but coming to peace with it is still yet to come.

“I don’t see how that’s relevant to this conversation,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief.

The male scoffs, turning his head towards you, meeting your eye. “Did you even listen to the songs?” 

“Of course I did, how else would I know–”

“Then you must have noticed that I’m not making fun of you, or putting you on blast, or belittling you, or whatever you and your friends have said about me for the past month,” he counts on his fingers as he recites the words with an annoyed tone, big eyes bearing into yours. 

“You exposed me being vulnerable.”

“I’m vulnerable in these too!” he urges out, eyebrows furrowing at you in exasperation.

“That’s your fucking choice! Don’t drag me into it!”

While you must admit that none of the lyrics Sunwoo’s ever written about you were lies, or making fun of you or throwing harsh words in your direction, you still feel as if a chunk of you has been thrown out in the open, for anyone to pick apart and poke around. You always told Sunwoo you liked his way with words, and there is no denying that his lyrics, although they were painfully honest, were quite beautiful. If you weren’t the one the songs were about, maybe you’d even like them. Maybe you could give them a listen without feeling like you want to crawl out of your skin. Maybe you could add them to your playlist without feeling ashamed that you’re still thinking about the male, picking apart your relationship like every outsider has been doing since the songs went viral, but instead, finding places where you could’ve done things differently and kept him by your side.

It was hard to listen to his words and see the reflections of your past flashing in front of your eyes like a movie. While you admit that he did the timeline of your relationship justice, you do despise the fact that his words are getting to you so much. 

You don’t like hearing about the things you’ve done wrong. You don’t like listening to him apologize– although he would never do so directly. You don’t like to hear him say that he misses you, because it makes it hard for you to keep your fair distance from him.

“I don’t know what I was thinking… Can you drive me home, Sunwoo? We’re clearly not on the same page about this,” you say, averting your gaze from him towards the window.

“No.”

“Sunwoo, can you please drive me–”

“Not until we talk about this, no,” he says firmly, watching you foam over with fury.

“What else is there to talk about?”

“Us!”

“There’s no us anymore, Sunwoo! And I think it’s the time you come to terms with that and stop abusing our failed relationship for your stupid songs,” you bark, throwing daggers into his skull with your fierce eyes.

“So you get to go and post angry tweets and badmouth me in front of your friends, but when I cope in a perfectly respectful manner, it’s wrong?” he argues, scoffing and shaking his head at you.

“God, you’re unbelievable. You’re comparing two vastly different things–”

“Do you not like the songs because you feel exposed, or do you not like them because I’m saying exactly what you don’t want to hear?” he asks, eyes bearing into yours with such heaviness you feel like you could cut the tension with a knife.

“Like what? That you think I regret breaking up with you?” you scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Why else would you pick a fight with me every time I call? Why pick it up at all?”

“Why do you call, then?” you challenge him, chewing on the bottom of your lip. The male leans closer to you, sparks dancing in his eyes when his voice resonates through the car like a low thunder, making the tips of your fingertips buzz and your heart beat faster.

“You know exactly why I call.”

“To make me angry and get me to scream at you?”

“If that means I get to talk to you,” he shrugs, a subtle grin overtaking his features, a churn of your stomach warning you of the dangerous area you just entered.

Eyes never breaking contact with his, relishing in the way his hungry gaze picks you apart, you attempt to conceal your true feelings with an annoyed comment. “This isn’t going anywhere,” you muse, “god, I never wanna see your face again.”

He clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth, teasing you. “That’s what you said last time,” he says, “so what are you doing in my car then, babydoll?”

The pet name makes your stomach drop, the lightness in your head coming back to you as you furrow your brows at the male, trying hard to come up with a smart remark. Your brain turns into liquid and there’s buzzing in your ears as you try to focus on staying calm and true to your best judgment, but the moment Sunwoo’s head leans even closer to your face, his words render you both speechless and thoughtless as he mutters a sentence that’s barely louder than a whisper, yet powerful enough to pull you in.

“Stop fighting me for once, will you?”

Your lips are pushed against his with force, the kiss mirroring the essence of being starved of each other for the past month. His plush lips move against yours with the skill that only a man you’ve spent tens and hundreds of nights kissing would acquire, his hand placed on your jaw to steady you, adjusting the pace of his kisses just the way you always liked it. 

A force that’s greater than yourself brings you out of your seat and into the driver’s lap, giving the male better access to your throat as you settle comfortably under your newly acquired human chair. His strong thighs flex under you when you thread your fingers through his hair, bringing him back up to connect your lips together before he breathlessly pulls away, gazing at you with a boyish grin on his face.

“Why did we even break up again?” he jokes.

You reply to him with the same lightness of your tone, shrugging. “Because you were a jealous, possessive prick and I had a short temper that always egged you on?” you say, watching as the male pretends to ponder on the information, humming to himself.

“I think I can put that past me.”

“Can you?” you joke, tracing his cheekbone with your thumb, a sly smirk playing with your lips as you lean over him and press a firm, yet short peck to his swollen lips. “Or will you make another mediocre song about it?”

“Don’t call them mediocre,” he squints at you, eyes tracing your face when your hands slip further down his face to cradle his jaw, thumbs padding his lips.

“I easily outdid you on your own song, Kim Sunwoo.”

“That’s why I add you in, actually.”

“Really?” you snicker, tone full of fake disbelief. His hands hold your sides when you lean over the man and latch yourself to his neck, dragging out kisses up and down his warm skin. “Will you make a song for each of our arguments, then?” 

Teeth scraping the skin of his throat, you find the male humming under you in pleasure and satisfaction. He has you right where he wanted you– and although this is not how you imagined the night to go, you don’t find yourself disappointed with the turn of events. The previous annoyance is still there, but now is shielded by the need in you, the longing for him you can’t really battle whenever he is around.

Settling deeper against his body, you feel the male slip one hand into your hair, tugging at the roots of your hair gently to bring your face back to his, averting your attention away from the love bites you’ve been placing on his skin. 

“Unless you give me another topic to write about,” he suggests, his hungry lips swallowing your reply. 

You and Sunwoo were never really good for each other. Too messy, too turbulent, but too consumed with the other to ever truly let go. Seeing him tonight surely wasn’t the best of your ideas– but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t silently hope the evening would turn out this way.

You and Sunwoo were never the ones to make good decisions when it came to the other one anyway. What’s one another badly calculated step in your relationship gonna do?

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 14 all chapters

warnings: The Author is choosing not to spoil the chapters with super specific warnings, (honestly they annoy me, sry). From here on out, expect sexual content. This is a yandere fic. If you have squicks, you probably shouldn't be reading this. Ye've been warned. I love you all. Carry on. 😘

-However, when you get back to your hostel, you find the doors are locked. It’s not even that late, and they actually fucking locked you out. Only then do you see the sign outside that proclaims they in fact will do this at the ridiculously early hour of ten o’clock.

“Shit.”

Seemingly calmer now, John slings an arm around your shoulders against the night’s chill. “I’ll get you a room in my hotel;” he promises. “It’s my fault I kept you out so late.”

You would be a liar if you pretended you did not consider the possibilities of this arrangement.

John is staying in a beautiful old boutique hotel with an ornate carved stone façade and wrought iron balconies. As it turns out the room directly next to his is vacant. A miracle, considering it’s the height of the season. He takes you up to get you settled, and brings you one of his t-shirts to sleep in.

Somewhere along the way he’s lost his suit jacket and tie, and you are hypnotized by the sight of him in just his shirt, his trim waist on display.

“Will you help me with my zipper?” you ask. You’re not being completely conniving. A kind comrade at the hostel did assist you in getting dressed in your dorm room.

He helps you like a gentleman with no real funny business, pulling the fine fastening down. You know he can’t help but brush the bare skin of your spine a little with his fingertips, but it is a fight not to squirm with the desire that small touch ignites within you again, moist heat pooling between your thighs. When he finishes the gesture with a seemingly innocent caress of the tops of your shoulders, you burn.

You turn in his arms, feeling the dress falling down your shoulders as you do, and stand on tiptoe to press your lips to his. He freezes for a single moment before his arms wrap around you in answer, holding you so hard you fear your bodies might fuse. He kisses you like he intends to eat you, his tongue sweeping your mouth and warring with yours, his teeth grazing the swell of your lower lip.

A part of you wonders how long its been, since he’s touched a woman. Since his wife passed? Is that why his hands shake as they slide into your hair, pulling just hard enough to get your attention? His mouth finds the line of your neck, branding you with kisses on your sensitive skin. Somehow, your hands work just enough to undo the first three buttons of his shirt, before he catches your mitts in his.

“Wait…” It is hard to tell if it is a request or an order, caught between a pant and a growl. He kisses you again, bending you over backwards and stealing your breath away. “You have had a lot to drink, and I am trying to do this the right way, and I am barely holding on. Please, y/n.” He presses his forehead to yours, as though he can will you to understand what is going on in that mysterious mind by osmosis alone.

“It’s ok,” you try to soothe him, hardly recognizing your own voice. “I want you. I want you so much, and for so long…” If he thinks this all was just a whim of yours brought on by too much alcohol, boy is he mistaken.  

A yip of surprise escapes you as suddenly he lifts you in his arms, as though you weigh nothing at all, carrying you to the bed and pressing you down into the soft mattress with hands on your shoulders, breathing heavily. You reach for him again, starving little thing that you are, but he catches your hands in his. “Stop.”

Thoroughly chastised, you freeze. Again, there’s that steely tone. Wide eyed, you look up at him, his hair a wavy mess from your fingers, his shirt half undone. He is beautiful, and there is something wild in his eyes that takes your breath away.

You are so confused. What did you do wrong?

He lets out a ragged sigh as he straightens, running his fingers through his hair.  

You are soothed a little, when he touches your lifted knee lightly, running fingertips down the blade of your bare shin. With precise fingers he unties the bows of your shoes at your ankles, removing them from your feet and setting them on the floor at the foot of the bed.

The moment his hands are absent from your skin you whine, knowing you sound like a cat in heat, but absolutely too drunk on desire as much as booze to care.  

“Shh,” he says, gentler this time. “We can talk about this in the morning. Right now, you need to get some rest.”

He touches your bare foot, tracing the arch, dwarfing it in his big hands, before turning to go. You sense you really are about to lose him for the night, and in your desperation you play your last card, not knowing where you get the cheek or the bravery to do so.

“But Mr. Wick…” you whine, and he freezes in his tracks. You can see the tension thrumming between his powerful shoulders, fighting with the decision to stay or to go. “Sir, haven’t I been a good girl?”

He turns back to you then, those burning dark eyes narrowed down at you. Just that single look floods you with a searing wave of heat, and you soak through your panties for the umpteenth time that evening. You press your thighs together, trying to relieve some of the agonizing ache this man inspires between your legs.

You’ve never actually done this before with a man, but some woman’s intuition in you knows that at last, you’ve got him in the bag.  

“Young lady, do you know what game you’re playing?” he warns, taking a step closer to the bed.

Maybe he’s right to caution you, but you’ve come too far now to care. “I need you.”

At least that much is true.  

He lets out a shuddering sigh, taking the remaining step to bring him back to you. You reach for him as he bends down, but he catches your hands again with a tut-tutting sound. You are beginning to think he doesn’t want you to see what’s beneath his shirt—which seems absurd, because from what you felt he’s fucking gorgeous and frankly, way fitter than you.

“These stay here,” he directs, pressing your hands above your head. His tone is not harsh this time, but low, still unyielding as stone. You reckon he’s a man who is used to being obeyed. It’s not your strong suit, but there is something buried in you that finds this new game unusually titillating.

“Or what?”

This wins you a dark little chuckle that lifts the hairs all over your body.

“Or, else.”

Something in that last word makes you squirm, and again you press your thighs, the ache you feel there bordering on pain. “Okay,” you agree breathily, too crazed by lust to care how ridiculous you must sound.

Finally, his lips are on yours again, a soft kiss with the barest slide of tongue that only leaves you wanting more, your nipples drawn to painful peaks. You whimper as he withdraws to kiss your throat, then lower on your chest.

“Shh, you needy thing,” he admonishes softly. “Good girls don’t whine.”

Somehow you manage to catch your next little sound in your throat, though it still comes out a strangled peep. You feel him smile over your breast, before he gives the bodice of your dress the slightest tug. In your current state it’s all it takes to bare your pebble-hard nipple to him, which he kisses with tenderest care, flicking his tongue over the bud. It sends spears of pleasure straight to your loins, and in that moment you think you really might die from wanting this man. You writhe beneath him, and without thinking your fingers find their way to his hair, grabbing soft fistfuls of dark curls in your desperation.

Immediately, he stops.

“What did I say about those?”

Suddenly you are on the edge of tears.

“I can’t….”

He stands, and you watch with fascination as those sure fingers flick open the silver buckle of his belt. He whips the leather from the loops with a crack. The sound startles you, your heart skipping a beat in your chest. The tent in his pants is more than impressive, but there is a sharp glint in his eye, and you can’t help but worry a little about what he intends to do with that belt.

With the leather doubled in his hand he caresses the line of your shins. You cannot help but part your legs a little, and he smiles. It’s almost a cruel curl of lips, but you are a broken thing, and all you can manage is anticipation mixed with the slightest bit of fear for what he has planned for that designer strip of leather.

“You will,” he corrects you, looping the belt around your wrists and making a knot. It doesn’t hurt, but…you are genuinely trapped. “Where do these go?”

With a sigh you return them above your head.

“What was that?”

“Here, Sir.”

“That’s my good girl.”

Those four words utterly wreck you.

He returns his attention to your bent legs, his fingertips ghosting up your thighs, higher and higher to disappear under the lace of your skirt. You sigh with relief when his fingers hook in the sides of your silk panties, slowly drawing them down your hips. He smiles wickedly at the damp little bundle in his big hand.

“These are ruined.” He sounds so very pleased about it as he slides them into his pocket.

“Before we even went to dinner,” you confess, and it’s absolutely true. The sharp look he pays you is a breathtaking mix of awe and hunger.

“You really want me so much?” There is an incongruous vulnerability in this question that tugs at your heartstrings, as though he can hardly believe it.

At this point, you might as well go for broke. Maybe he’ll feel less like he’s taking advantage of you if you admit, “I’ve missed you. From the moment I left I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

  A pained sound escapes from low in his throat at hearing it, and he sits on the bed beside your feet, his touch agonizingly light upon the backs of your calves. He meets your eyes unwaveringly as he pushes your legs apart, gentle but exacting.

You are putty in his hands.

He ducks to kiss just the inside of your knee, lingering there as he looks down upon you completely bared to him. You are sure he can see your folds glistening and swollen, needing him with every iota of your being.

Yet he sits completely still, and the next sound you make more resembles a frustrated little snarl.

“Did you just growl at me?” You can tell by his voice that he is inwardly laughing at you.

Wondering what punishment that would entail, you hold your breath to stay silent.

He ducks lower then, nipping at the inside of your thigh with a harsh little suck, and you know there will be a bruise there in the morning.

“You’re like a fierce little kitten with her claws out. Big eyed and soft and so fucking adorable.”

You’re not sure if you like this or not, but his mouth continues downward, and as he nears the apex of your thighs you forget all about it. When his tongue touches your clit you make a sound like a sob; you’ve never felt anything so good in your life. He circles you slowly, paired with hard laps of the flat of his tongue, and you cannot help but arch into him. The sliding pressure of one of his long fingers inside you is heaven, and yet somehow, not enough.

“God, I want you,” you plead as you writhe against his skilled ministrations. “Let me cum on your big cock buried inside me?”

He makes a low sound deep in his throat in answer, the vibrations themselves are nearly enough to push you over the edge. You feel him shake his head no slowly in answer, his tongue a menace and a marvel as it kneads your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Please?”

You forget everything in the throes of your desire for him, maybe even your own fucking name, and that is when you make the mistake of moving your hands again, touching his soft hair with your fingertips to get his attention.

He looks up at you then, and you’re not sure how just the lift of an eyebrow can communicate such volumes, but as his eyes meet yours you know you fucked up.

He abandons you in your need, standing beside the bed again. You are too astonished to say anything, just watching him in pure agony. His eyes flick to your wrists, as though he’s considering leaving you trussed like a Christmas goose, before he releases the belt with two sharp tugs.

“We can try this again tomorrow.”

“John…” you’re finally able to protest, hating the broken sound of your voice, your every nerve at painful attention. “Mr. Wick…”

He doesn’t look back until he reaches the door, turning to look over his shoulder with his hand on the handle. He brings his index finger to his mouth, licking the juices you left there, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Don’t even think about touching yourself. That sweet little pussy is mine.”

Shocked and dumbfounded, you watch as he makes his exit through the adjoining door, and locks it behind him. You hear the click, and in all your frustration you throw a pillow across the room, certain he can hear your enraged little shriek.

He makes no answer, letting you stew in the anguish of your unfulfilled desire.

[inbloomwriting]

a calm surrender II Roy Kent

Plot: Roy doesn't love her. In fact, he finds her irritating above anything else. And yet he manages to tell her in so many different ways.

Pairing: Roy Kent x female reader

Warnings: A lot of swearing, mentions of food and alcohol. Reader takes Keeley's spot in some plot points - no disrepect to her though she's my favorite.

Notes: This is inspired by a "100 ways to say I love you" List. It’s 8.3k words, It's a big one.

Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please

"It's enough for this restless warrior Just to be with you"

Take my jacket, it’s cold & You can have half

She’s irritating. Everything about her manages to get under his skin. The way she’s always smiling that big radiant smile of hers or the perpetual scent of jasmine and vanilla that seems to follow her anywhere. She laughs too loud, she’s a terrible driver and even worse at parking. The music coming from the physio room is mostly cheesy 80s and 90s pop songs that make Roy want to give himself a lobotomy. She’s irritating in every which way you look at it — and maybe that’s the exact reason why Roy can’t keep himself from looking at her.

Tonight is no exception. For some inexplicable reason, his eyes manage to find her across the room and in the crowd, every single time without fail. It’s not like it’s a conscious choice on his part either. It just happens. That sparkly green dress of her’s just seems to call out to him like the damn light across the bay at the Buchanan’s dock.

And the worst part is that she noticed. She caught his eyes on her more than once, even had the audacity to smirk back at him. During the auction, for a small moment, he thought she might bid on him when her hand just barely twitched and her eyes held a sense of infinite mischief. She didn’t though and for a second he could feel a string of disappointment pull at his heart. Not because he wanted her to bid on him or anything, he just wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of having to spend time with Cheryl Barnaby.

He managed to find her across the room all night — except for right now. Everyone’s on the dance floor. Keeley, Jamie, Ted, even Beard. But not her.

No one’s paying attention to him right now, if he were to just slip out of here, no one will notice.

It’s not like he wanted to be here in the first place. Sure, raising money for underprivileged children is something honorable and he would never let his own disdain for overly glitzy social events get in the way of doing the right thing. Doesn’t mean he has to like it though.

Emptying his glass with one last sip he grabs his jacket from the back of the chair and steps out into the chilly air of a London night.

It’s funny, really, how the moment he stops searching, the green light calls back out to him and she steps into his vision. A glowing beacon of refuge, guiding ships through dark nights to safe shores.

The cold air nips at her skin, sharp and vicious and Roy doesn’t even have to get any closer to her to notice that she’s shivering. He can barely suppress the urge to roll his eyes at her. Of course, she’s cold, she’s only wearing the dress and some flimsy chiffon scarf thing around her shoulders. That’s gonna do fuck all to shelter her from the cold. Irritating. She’s so irritating.

The most irritating part though, is that he can’t help but slip out of his suit jacket. The most irritating part is that he can’t help but care.

“Take my jacket, it’s cold.”

There it is again, that smile of hers. The one he sees sometimes when he’s about to fall asleep. How ridiculous, he thinks, how foolish of him. How absurd it is to fall asleep to the image of a smile belonging to a girl that annoys him more than anything and anyone. (Except maybe Jamie).

“Are you — are you talking to me? Little old me? Are you being nice to me?”

“Jesus fuck, don’t make it weird. I’m always nice.”

She giggles and it’s bloody adorable. So adorable that a smile threatens to pull the corners of his lips upwards. See? Fucking irritating.

“You hardly talk more than 3 words to me when you’re in the physio room but — okay. If that’s your version of nice.”

“Take the jacket or not, I don’t care. I’ll let you freeze out here if you’re trying to be difficult. Means fuck all to me.”

That’s not true. They both know it. No matter how much Roy tries to deny or hide it, there is a soft heart buried inside the rough exterior. He just can’t risk showing that to everyone. Can’t have people getting the wrong ideas.

“No, please I — sorry I’m just — you make me nervous and when I’m nervous I talk a lot and then most of what comes out is just stupid nonsense or deflecting humor or something. I would really appreciate that jacket. It really is fucking freezing.”

Roy has been in the public eye for years now, he’s used to people being intimidated, nervous. Usually, it’s strangers though, people who don’t know him. Those that do, that work with him, usually lose that feeling pretty quickly.

“Why the fuck would I make you nervous?”

She just glances at him before turning her face back towards the street “Have you seen yourself?”

He’s not sure how to take that. Is it a compliment? Does she think he’s handsome? It’s not like it matters to him really. In fact, the thought that she might find him attractive is — say it with me — fucking irritating.

He contemplates asking her outright if this is something she does on purpose. If she’s deliberately trying to rile him up. The words are on the tip of his tongue when he notices her shiver once again and all that was on his mind vanishes against the desperate need to keep her warm.

“Jesus. Let me just — “

Jasmine. Vanilla. He smells it when he slips the jacket around her shoulders. He wonders if his jacket will smell like that, like her, when he gets it back. Wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Not because it’s her or anything — just because it smells fantastic and Roy is not one to deny himself the simple pleasures in life.

“I really appreciate it, Roy.”

And the gratefulness with which she says it is not irritating at all. It’s endearing. It’s flutters-in-his-tummy kind of wonderful.

Instead of reacting like a normal, reasonable person with a simple “you're welcome”, he gives her one of his signature grunts. That’s as good a normal reasonable reaction as anyone can expect from him, really.

“What are you out here all by yourself for anyway? Trying to get kidnapped or something?”

“No,” there it is again, the giggle. Ugh. “ I’m waiting for my Uber. He’s — “She checks her phone, illuminating her face with the harsh blue light. He thinks she looks wonderful either way. Then scolds himself for thinking it. Some simple pleasures he has to deny himself. “ 12 minutes away.”

Roy isn’t quite certain whether or not he considers himself a good person. He tries to be, it’s a conscious effort each and every day. He helps out his sister, he gives in to all of Phoebe’s wishes even if it means having to play the princess yet again and never getting to be the dragon. He donates more money to charity than the press is aware of, leaves hefty tips whenever he goes out to eat and though he does swear a lot, he still tries to be polite if he can.

He tries to be a good person and a good person doesn’t let a woman wait outside in the cold dark night by herself. No matter how infuriating she is.

“Do you mind if I keep you company? Couldn’t live with myself if you got snatched up and I was the last person to see you alive.”

A laugh tumbles from her lips. A step up from a giggle and god does it send shockwaves through his traitorous heart.

“The press would have a field day if that happened. I can see the headlines, ‘Football legend Roy Kent involved in the disappearance of Richmond sports physio’ and then they use a picture of you from like 10 years ago with the really bad long hair that makes you look a little sketchy.”

“I didn’t look sketchy.”

“You looked a little sketchy.”

Roy glances at her through the corner of his eyes. She really is a dream in forest green, the sequins, and rhinestones reflecting the street lights like little kaleidoscopes. He’s almost certain he’ll dream in shades of green tonight. He’s sure he’ll see her smiling face.

“You look beautiful.”

The words fall from his lips before he can stop them and it makes him want to put his head through a wall. Fuck.

“Thank you —” she replies bashfully, “do you want some sausage roll?”

In all the scenarios running through his head of how this conversation could’ve gone, this is not one of the outcomes he expected.

“What?” he asks, one eyebrow raised in question.

“Do you want a part of my sausage roll?” she chuckles and pulls a brown paper bag from her sparkly clutch bag. “I wasn’t sure if they were gonna actually feed us or just serve us rich people portions so I brought backup. You can have half if you want.”

She breaks the flaky pastry in two and holds one piece out to him. Even her nails are painted to match the dress. If he was any worse a man he would risk it all for just one taste of her and whatever black magic she possesses that gets so deeply under his skin. He is a better man than that tough, so he settles for a taste of the sausage roll.

“You’re a strange woman”

“Strange or smart?”

Taking a bite from the sausage roll, buttery and flaky and greasy, he must admit she has a point.

“Bit of both.”

“I can live with that.”

Silence settles upon them, well as silent as a London night can be. It feels weirdly comfortable. No expectations to be someone or do something. Just her and the city and the fucking Greggs sausage roll.

And — Elton John?

“Oh, I love that song!”

A string of pink lights adorns the top of the rikshaw as it turns the corner, loudly blasting Can you feel the love tonight. The driver catches sight of them and Roy can’t suppress the annoyed groan slipping its way out.

“Good evening can I interest you lovebirds in a — “

“No, fuck off!”

Elton’s voice gets quieter and quieter as the startled driver rides his rickshaw further away and back into the inky black of the night.

Lovebirds, he called them lovebirds. Thought the two of them were anything other than acquaintances. People pushed together by circumstances and coincidence. As if anything between them could ever happen. She’s already getting under his skin, sticks around his thoughts, and ghosts through his head without him ever giving her permission to do so. She’s all he can think about lately and yes he knows it sounds repetitive but god it’s so damn irritating.

“I would’ve liked to hear the rest of the song.”

Roy scoffs “Figures.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

He turns to face her and, for the first time since he’s stepped out of the building and into this tiny bubble they’re sharing for just this fleeting moment, he looks at her. Really looks at her. With her sparkly dress and her lips painted a deep red like candy apples. With flakes of the pastry sticking to her lower lip and his jacket wrapped around her looking almost like this is where it’s always belonged.

He’s never had a heart attack before, he wonders if this is what it feels like.

“You play the worst fucking music when you’re working in the physio room.”

“Uh — are you insulting my taste in music? Are you really out here insulting the legend, sir Elton John? The Lion King soundtrack is a religious experience, okay?”

He hates that he can clearly tell by the glimmer of mischief in her eyes that she is joking more than anything. He shouldn’t be able to tell. Mere acquaintances can’t do shit like that.

“No, in fact, it’s a pretty fucking great movie. It came out when my sister was a kid though and I had to watch that shit a million times. You know how traumatizing it is having to watch Mufasa die over and over again?“

She grants him a look of understanding and shrugs her shoulders in agreement “At least it’s not Frozen, eh? “

“I have a 6-year-old niece.”

Roy Kent has a lot of things in his life that he takes pride in. His career and talent, all the hard work he put in to be where he is today. He takes pride in being a good brother and a loving uncle and maybe even a good friend and leader.

Making her let out a snort as she laughs at his Frozen-induced misery? That might be his proudest achievement to date.

“I’m glad you find my suffering amusing.”

“What can I say? You’re a funny guy, Roy Kent. So funny in fact that I almost bid on you at the auction.”

He wants to let out the most guttural scream in the existence of mankind. She can’t just go ahead and say stuff like that. Not when he is trying so hard to keep their interactions at the most basic level. Not when she already haunts his dreams. She’s irritating, Roy. Not charming or lovable or — beautiful. Or maybe she is all those things but most of all she’s annoying and infuriating and — oh he’s so fucked.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Oh, well I’m just a measly sports physician. Don’t get me wrong, it's good money but I don’t really earn quite enough to throw thousands of pounds at a man to have him spend time with me.”

He’d do it for free. Hate every second of it, naturally. But he’d do it for free.

Can’t tell her that though. Never. So once again he just grunts.

A silver Toyota pulls up to the curb, effectively bursting their little bubble of comfort as the driver leans down to look out the window. “You (Y/N) ?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

She makes a motion to slip out of the jacket, only for Roy to step in and hold it closed, keeping it in place, wrapped around her, and shielding her from the cold.

“Keep it,” his voice comes out all rough and husky. More than usual. It’s probably the jasmine scent getting to him, clouding his every sense. “Don’t want you to freeze on the way home. Just give it back another time.”

“Oh, okay. Well, thanks again. Goodnight, Roy.”

He opens the door for her and closes it softly once she’s settled into the car. Roy tries so hard to be a good man, a good person but in that moment all he wants to do is be a little bit worse, just a little bit. Just enough to rip the door open again, pull her out of the seat and kiss her stupid.

Instead, he wishes her a good night and sends her off before stepping out into the night himself. There is a smile playing on his lips all the way home and it’s so fucking irritating.

I was in the neighborhood & It’s okay I couldn’t sleep anyway

The door leading to her apartment is bright red and there is a little white sign and the picture of a dog with huge fucking ears that reminds him of Gizmo from the Gremlins. It says “Beware of the dog — might cuddle you to death.”

It’s cheesy as hell. He loves it.

He’s not quite sure how he ended up here. Losing is never fun. Feeling yourself slowly becoming unable to do the things you love, the things you were good at, and actively playing a part in your team losing? That’s absolutely mortifying.

Of all the places he could’ve gone, all the people he could’ve seen — he ends up in front of her door. Red and shiny like her lips that night.

It’s almost 1am and all things considered, this is a really dumb idea. She’s probably asleep and waking her up would be fucking rude. He should just go and forget this ever happened instead of knocking on her door in the middle of the night. That’s what the rational part of his brain tells him at least.

Roy was never really good at listening to the rational part of his brain.

Tiny barks, no doubt belonging to the dog on the sign, echo through the hallway before the door swings open just enough for (Y/N) to look at him with tired eyes.

“Roy?”

“I was in the neighborhood I — I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.”

It’s not a lie, really. He was in the neighborhood. He walked here specifically to knock on her door and see her.

“It’s okay, I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Now that is most definitely a lie. Her eyes are sleepy, her hair disheveled and he can just about make out the pillow print on her cheek.

“Do you want to come in?”

He does. He shouldn’t but he really does.

The apartment is small but it feels cozy rather than cramped. The walls are lined with pictures, little reminders of happy moments and people she loves.

There’s one of him too, well him and Isaac and Sam and then her at the end of the line. He thinks it was taken at some get-together after a particularly hard-fought win. He likes to know that there’s a picture of him on her wall even if his appearance in the photo is probably more incidental than anything.

“I didn’t know you had a dog.”

It’s a stupid thing to say, there is so much he doesn’t know about her. He doesn’t know where she was born or if she has siblings or if she always wanted to be a physiotherapist. But there are things he does know, like the specific way she likes her coffee and that she always gets a snickerdoodle cookie from the bakery down the road from the stadium, every Wednesday without fail. How she scrunches up her nose when she’s frustrated and that she snorts when something makes her laugh really hard.

“His name is Yoda. He’s a papillon and also my best friend.”

“Don’t let Sam hear.”

“Oh, he’s also Sam’s best friend.”

Yoda, it’s a fitting name. He does look like a Yoda.

“So what brings you here, Roy? At uh — “ she glances towards her open kitchen and the digital clock on the microwave “ 1:04 am?”

Should’ve gotten his story straight before he came here. What is he supposed to say? I felt like proper shit and wanted to see your smile? Surely not.

So he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

“Came to get my jacket back.”

Absolute dumbass.

“Your jacket? Oh uh. sure. Let me go get it.”

She regards him with confusion and curiosity, he can tell she’s not really buying his story.

“Or, if you aren’t in a rush, I was about to pop in a movie and pig out on some popcorn? Do you want to join me?”

This might be the first time he lets her see the smile she continues to put on his face.

“Fuck yeah, what are we watching?”

“Vernon is such a little bitch. Antagonizing fucking teenagers? What a loser."

“Right?,” (Y/N) agrees, taking a sip from her glass of rose before stuffing another handful of buttery popcorn into her mouth. “Bender needed someone to care, not just another adult yelling at him. "Such a loser. Hey, now that I think about it, you do give me John Bender vibes. All broody and mysterious.”

Roy just scoffs in response.

Her eyes fall onto his empty glass of wine resting on the little square table in front of the couch.

“You want a top-up?”

“No, I’m good. I should probably get going.”

He hates to admit it, it’s something he’ll take to the grave with him, but there’s something about rosé that gets to him. It makes him tipsy immediately. He doesn’t want to go home but the longer he stays the more he opens himself up to saying something stupid and fucking this up — whatever this is.

“Did you walk here?”

“Mmh.”

“Oh well I can’t in good conscience let you walk home, half a bottle of rosé in your system and dealing with all the emotions brought on by the breakfast club. Couldn’t live with myself if you got snatched up and I was the last person to see you alive”

Throwing his own words back at him should be infuriating, annoying. It isn’t. It’s lovely. She’s lovely.

“You can stay if you want. My couch isn’t the biggest but I think you’ll fit just fine.”

The sincerity in her eyes hits him like a dart to the chest. It’s something so simple as offering him her couch for the night but it means everything for a man who has grown so awfully accustomed to loneliness.

“If I stay, will you make me breakfast?”

“Fuck no”

Laughter fills the tiny living room and it takes him a second to realize it’s his own.

“I might be up for a Starbucks run tomorrow morning before work though.”

“Sounds great. I love peppermint lattes, those are fucking delicious.”

She grants him another smile as she gathers their glasses and the empty bottle and brings them to the kitchen before returning with a fluffy pink blanket for him. He thinks that smile could’ve just about killed him, thinks he might just die right here on her couch and it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Well goodnight, then. Hope you don’t mind Yoda”

The dog is curled up on Roy’s chest like a little bagel. It’s gonna be annoying later, he’s sure but hell will freeze over before he disturbs the little pup.

“That’s fine.”

“He snores, just thought you should know.”

“Makes two of us then, hope he doesn’t mind.”

Another laugh. Another tiny heart attack.

She’s by the door, just about to turn off the light and plunge the room into darkness, when she hesitates for a moment.

“Hey Roy,”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry you guys lost today and I — I can see you struggling but I just wanted you to know that it was not your fault. I need you to know that.”

The entire way here, he tried to make himself rationalize that. Make himself understand that losing is part of the game and that he did his best. But knowing your best might not be good enough anymore is a hard fucking pill to swallow.

Hearing her say that it’s not his fault, it takes the weight off for a moment. Not all the way, never all the way. But a tiny little bit and that’s a whole lot already.

“Goodnight, (Y/N).”

“Night, Roy.”

He falls asleep with the taste of rosé on his tongue, the snoring of a little dog in his ears, and the sight of her on his mind, all sleepy eyes and messy hair. She never looked better.

It looks good on you & I like your laugh

He’s positively buzzing with euphoria. They won, something no one thought was possible. They won and he scored the winning goal.

Spirits are high as the team and their friends have taken over the Karaoke place. Shots and drinks flow with no regard to the tab they’re raking up or the headache that awaits each of them tomorrow. None of that matters right now. Tonight is made for celebrating. Consequences don’t exist right here and now.

Rebecca burns the house down with her rendition of let it go and after a short intermission by Dani, singing a Spanish song that neither of them managed to join in with their non-existent knowledge of the language, the opening chords to another familiar song fill the room.

“Well, thanks for making us all look like amateurs, Rebecca,” (Y/N) says into the microphone as she takes her place on stage. Her words are laced with happiness and laughter and Roy thinks she must have him under some spell because he can’t manage to not smile when she’s around. It’s a bit ridiculous if he’s being honest.

“I will most definitely not be able to live up to that performance but I thought we could stay in the Disney bubble for a moment.”

Her eyes meet his across the room and when she winks at him it takes everything in him not to get up on stage and devour her. Fucking irritating.

“I know you all know this song so sing along if you feel like it. This one’s for you, John Bender.”

He knows it’s one of the cheesiest love songs ever, written for a movie about a cartoon lion. But sitting on the couch at the karaoke place surrounded by his team, having just scored a winning goal and listening to the girl that haunts his dreams sing straight to him and only him, he thinks Elton has a point. He can feel the love tonight. It’s in the smiles of his friends, and the voices coming together all chaotic and off-key singing along to the song. And there is love in her eyes, clear as day and undeniable.

“And can you feel the love tonight How it's laid to rest? It's enough to make kings and vagabonds Believe the very best”

The night is coming to an end, everyone’s found their way to their respective rooms — or whoever’s room they felt like staying at. Roy’s pretty sure he saw Rebecca’s friend enter Ted’s room but that’s none of his fucking business, is it?

“Okay, you can’t laugh though!” (Y/N)’s voice calls out from the bathroom and drifts towards the main part of the room where Roy is perched on the chair by the window.

This isn’t his room and really he knows he shouldn’t be here. But being alone right now sounded like proper torture. He wasn’t ready to leave this magical night behind yet. Not like this. Not when she sang to him and he had nothing to give her in return. So when she invited him to her room to watch yet another John Hughes movie on Netflix, he couldn’t do anything but accept.

“Are you sleeping in one of those weird fluffy onesies?”

“No, god no.”

“Then I don’t know why I’d laugh at you.”

When she steps into the room, he can see why she’d think he’d laugh at her choice of sleepwear. The white shirt looks not so white anymore, there is a hole at the bottom and a mysterious red stain by the collar. It doesn’t make him laugh though. It makes him fucking hard. Because that’s his name on the back of it. That’s a 2014 world cup Roy Kent England Jersey.

“Fuck me.”

He doesn't mean to let it slip but alcohol and euphoria have made his lips go loose.

“I knoooow, it’s embarrassing. I meant to bring something else but it’s just so comfortable.”

“It looks good on you.”

It does. He thought the green dress was it. Then he thought she looked absolutely adorable, all sleepy and natural. But this? This is the look that pushes him over the edge. This is everything.

“Yeah?” she asks and twirls around the room, not unlike Phoebe whenever Roy gifts her yet another new princess dress. He’s just such a sucker, can never say no when she asks him for something. “You just wait and see, I’ll steal your job soon enough.”

That makes him erupt into laughter yet again, he doesn’t think he’s laughed quite as much lately as when he is with her.

“I’ve seen you attempt to play before. I’m not worried.”

“I like your laugh,” she says, all warm eyes and wistful smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Something takes over, an invisible force pulling him to his feet and making him walk up to her. She’s leaning against the wall as he places one hand on her hip, the other on the wall next to her head. This shouldn’t be happening, he knows this. It’s dumb to believe that whatever tension there is between them can lead to anything. That’s just not in the cards for him no matter how much he wishes for it.

Girls like her don’t fall for boys like him. They never did, they never will.

“Roy Kent, you won today.”

Winning the game is the last thing on his mind right now. How could he ever think about winning right this moment when her hand is softly resting on his cheek and her nose gently nuzzling against his and the —

A knock on the door cuts through the moment making Roy let go and take a step back.

“Fucks sake.”

In his defense, Sam looks apologetic as he stands in front of the door, signature smile on his face. Good-natured and lovable. If this was any other moment Roy wouldn’t have been able to be mad at him. But this is that moment and he is a little pissed right now.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to disturb, I was just wondering if you had another phone charger. I can’t find mine and I know you always bring extra so — “

“Uh, yeah let me go get it real quick.” (Y/N) says and turns back towards the room.

Roy’s eyes connect with hers for a split second and it’s like a bucket of ice straight over his head. They both know whatever magical spell they had been under, it’s broken and gone and all that’s left now is a big old pile of what-ifs.

“It’s getting late, I should leave. Goodnight, (Y/N). Night, Sam.”

“We’ll reschedule, yeah?”

Tiny smile on his lips he nods his head in agreement.

He gets a soft “goodnight” in return and though he hates to admit it, the touch of her hand against his cheek lingers there all the way to his room and even further into his dreams.

Call me when you get home & We’ll figure it out

Rain pounds against the roof and windows like tiny bullets. A rainstorm has Richmond tight in its clutches so cruel and unforgiving the team can’t even train right now.

And yet for some reason Roy still finds himself in the workout room, trying to push himself to do just 5 more minutes on the treadmill. Just 5 more.

Actually, it’s not entirely true. He knows why he’s here. Part of him hopes that if he just pushes himself enough, he can overcome the pain in his leg and all the issues it causes. That if he just tries harder, he can go back to being the talented overachiever he used to be.

But it hurts. A sharp stabbing pain rushes through his knee forcing him to step off the treadmill. He hates this. In fact, it’s his worst fucking nightmare. Football is all he’s ever been good at, he can’t lose that. It’s his entire life.

If he’s not Roy the footballer, who is he? Some bloke named Roy with a dead career and no one to come home to? Now doesn’t that sound delightful?

"Roy?"

“Jesus, fuck!”

There she goes again giving him a heart attack, only this time it’s not because she’s being cute or anything.

“Oh shit, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The smile on her face falls as she catches sight of him holding onto his knee. He can almost see the thoughts running through her head. She knows about his knee. If anyone knows how bad it is, it’s her. She told him not to overdo it. Said that would only make it worse.

He knows she has pity on him and he hates it. It’s irritating coming from everyone. Irritating and misplaced. Why would they pity him? It’s his own damn fault for not being good enough anymore.

But coming from her? That’s even worse. No one wants a guy that’s getting too old to do his job properly. That’s falling apart and breaking.

— Not that he wants her or anything. Oh, Roy, who are you trying to fool here? Of course, he wants her.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.”

She raises her eyebrow in disbelief, in that bratty way that drives him crazy.

“I said I’m fine, (Y/N).”

“I hear what you’re saying,” she says and comes to stand next to him, crossing her arms in defiance. “but I can also see the way you’re holding your knee and that face you’re making. You’re in pain, love.”

Love. He doesn’t hate how it sounds when she calls him that. Irritating for sure but also — sweet.

“I’ll be fine! What are you even doing here?”

He hasn’t seen a lot of her ever since the night in Liverpool and while part of him was quite glad about it because he honestly wasn’t sure whether or not to bring up whatever had or had not happened between them, another part of him had missed her smile desperately.

“I work here.”

“You’re a fucking smartass, aren’t you.”

“I try.”

Fuck, even when she’s being deliberately difficult she manages to pull a smirk from him.

“I had some paperwork to do but by the time I arrived here, the storm was so bad that now I have to wait for it to stop before I can drive home. I hate driving when it rains.”

“Oh you should,” Roy returns, nodding his head in agreement “You’re a horrible driver in the best of weather.”

She responds with a scandalized gasp and a hand placed on her heart in mock upset “I am not a horrible driver! Take that back.”

“It took you 18 minutes to park your car the other day. I know because I saw it, we all saw it. Boys took the time and had bets going. Jamie won 20 quid.”

“Wha — okay I’ll have to have a word with the guys, you’re ridiculous. But don’t think you can change the topic on me, Mister. Is your knee getting worse?”

Yes, and he fucking hates it. Can’t even say the words out loud because that feels like admitting defeat. And that’s a terrifying thing to do.

Fortunately for him, he doesn’t have to say anything. A look is all it takes and she nods her head in understanding.

“That’s okay, Roy. We’ll figure something out.”

We will figure something out. We as in him and her. Since pretty much the beginning of his professional career, Roy had admirers. People who would latch onto everything he did or said and hold him to abnormally high standards he would never be able to reach. They adored him but they also didn’t know him. She knows him even when he tries so hard to keep her at arm's length. She knows him and is still in his corner, still has his back. The only people who ever did that were his family.

It’s an unusual feeling but he really really likes it. Even if it’s a little terrifying.

“What if — “ he takes a deep breath, trying to form the words that weigh so heavy on his heart “What if I can’t go back to how it used to be? What if this is the end for me?”

“Do you want me to be honest or nice?”

“Lay it on me then.”

“Things might not get back to how they used to be and there’s not really much you can do about it other than learn to accept it and then figure out a new place for yourself.”

“Football is all I have.”

“That’s not true but even if it was there is so much more about it than just the players.”

She’s right but it’s still a bitter pill to swallow.

“…and with that smile of yours, you can always go into modeling. I’m sure they’re always looking for new faces in the toothpaste commercial business.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“See! There’s that smile I was talking about.”

“You’re fucking insufferable sometimes.”

She is. He adores it.

“Oh, but you like it — right?”

“What?”

“You do — like it? Like me?”

It’s the first time he’s seen her act insecure. She’s always so bubbly and happy and smiling, he hates that he put any doubt in her mind that he does anything but cherish her.

“You irritate me, woman. Drive me up the fucking wall, every day.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No! Don’t say sorry. I love it. I think you’re a fucking knockout. Best thing since sliced bread.”

He does, he truly does and it feels nice to say it out loud for once. To admit it to her and to himself. It feels nice when she comes closer and when she rests her arms around his neck and it feels fucking phenomenal when her nose brushes past his and he can almost feel her lips on his.

Almost.

That’s until her phone beeps and she pulls away altogether.

“Ah shit, I gotta go.”

“Fuck sake. The universe hates me.”

“The universe doesn’t hate you, Roy Kent. We just have bad timing. ”

He’s not convinced.

“What about the storm?”

“I think the rain stopped, listen.”

Roy hears nothing. Where raindrops were drumming against the roof and windows just minutes ago, there is silence. He’s never wished for a rainstorm to persist more than he does at that moment.

“Well, call me when you get home at least. Roads will still be wet.”

“Aw, Roy, are you worried about me?”

His lips say no, but his eyes and his smile tell a different story.

You can stay & Is this okay? Can I hold your hand?

This is it. This is the end. He’s seen this one coming for a while now but he tried so hard. He trained and pushed and it was all for nothing. They’re losing and his career as an active footballer is over for good.

The door to the locker room opens slowly, almost cautiously and he’s just about to yell and whoever dares to disturb him, when his head snaps up and he sees (Y/N) standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing here? Game is still going, you’re the fucking Physio.”

“Good thing there’s more than one of us. I have to make sure all my players are okay.”

I’m not okay. That’s what he wants to say. He wants to scream it from the rooftops. He’s not okay. He’s not sure he ever will be.

“Get out, (Y/N).”

She can’t see him like this. Defeated. Broken. Old.

Instead of listening to him, she sits down beside him and holds an ice pack to his injured knee.

“As a physio, I need to tell you that what you did was really stupid.”

He knows it was. It was a calculated risk he was willing to take and if nothing else, he kept Jamie from scoring and the fans appreciated it. That was all that mattered at that moment.

“But as a friend and Richmond fan, I think it was brilliant. I just wish you didn’t hurt yourself in the process.”

Silence settles over them and (Y/N) is just about to get back up when he grabs onto her arm and pulls her back down. “You can stay.”

“Okay.”

And for a long while they just sit. No words, no expectations. Just them.

Softly, almost like a whisper, he feels her touch against his hand, sliding her fingers between his.

“Is this okay? Can I hold your hand?”

It’s not okay. It’s phenomenal. It’s everything he could’ve wished for in that moment but never would’ve had the nerve to ask. It’s a promise that he isn’t alone in this. There is someone there holding his hand through the darkest of times.

A green light guiding him to safe shores.

“Don’t you fucking dare let go.”

Stay there, I’m coming to get you & I can't wait for tomorrow

Turns out, retiring from a successful football career does not mean you suddenly have a lot of free time. In fact, Roy doesn’t think he’s ever been this busy doing shit he doesn’t like.

Everyone wants an interview, a statement, a “what happens next”. It’s a lot of paperwork and contracts and shit he doesn’t care about. The point is, he’s fucking busy. So busy he hasn’t seen (Y/N) in quite a few days. Nothing has really changed since their moment in the locker room but somehow everything feels different.

It’s exactly 4:12 am when his phone rings. He almost doesn’t want to answer but calls at 4am usually mean bad news and he’d never forgive himself if something happened to his sister or Phoebe or (Y/N) or even (and he will deny this if you ask him about it) Jamie just because he couldn’t be bothered to answer his phone.

“Hello?”

“Royoooo.”

Oh. Oh!

A smirk pulls at his lips.

“(Y/N)?”

“Sorry —” she says and stops for a giggle “Sorry to wake you. I just — I was out with the girls and I didn’t plan on drinking but I did. They had a buy one get one free deal. It would be stupid to say no, right?”

“Right.”

"So, yeah."

“Go on. Didn’t just call me to tell me about the drinks, did you.”

“Oh, no. I just wanted to talk to you while I wait for my Uber. I miss you.”

“Do you?”

“So much!” her words are slow and slightly slurred. “Every fucking day. Like — god, I just wanna see your stupid handsome face.”

“It’s handsome, innit?”

“You have no idea! I just want to kiss you, so badly.”

Kiss him. She wants to kiss him. Sure, it almost happened twice but it’s still different hearing her outright say it. But then again, she’s drunk and by the time she wakes up tomorrow, she probably won’t remember half of what she’s saying right now.

“Where are you?”

“It’s that weird little bar around the corner from Sam’s restaurant. The one with the green door.”

“Go on and cancel that Uber.”

“Then how am I going to get home?”

“Stay there, I’m coming to get you.”

Roy isn’t quite certain whether or not he considers himself a good person. He tries to be, it’s a conscious effort each and every day. He tries to be a good person and a good person doesn’t let the woman he’s absolutely head over heels for wait outside in the cold dark night by herself. No matter how infuriating she is.

“Okay,” she agrees, a giggle slipping past her lips “Thank you. Can’t wait to see you.”

And though Roy had other plans for his weekend than picking up a drunk girl at 4 in the morning, he also can’t wait to see her.

“…and like it was mostly sugar, right? So I thought why not have another one. Turns out it was mostly vodka.”

“Who could’ve guessed.”

She’s cuddled up on his couch in one of his shirts looking into his eyes and retelling her night in vivid detail. Her story is slurred and a bit all over the place, blame it on her tipsy brain. It takes her forever to get to the point and when she does, the point doesn’t even make all that much sense. It doesn’t matter, he’d listen to her ramble forever if it meant he got to spend time with her wearing his shirt sitting on his couch — looking into his eyes.

“You’re going to feel like shit tomorrow.”

“I know,” she shrugs then scoots closer to him and wraps her arms around his “but you’re here so it’s only half as bad really.”

“If I’m feeling generous I’ll even make you breakfast.”

“You really are the dream, Roy Kent.”

She’s clawing at his chest, prying open his ribcage and burying herself where his heart used to be. Metaphorically speaking, of course.

“You have to stop saying shit like that. People are gonna think you’re in love with me or something.”

She pulls away slightly and looks up at him with those big eyes of hers before resting one hand on his cheek.

“Roy, I am. I thought you knew.”

He had a hunch, of course. Fostered a spark of hope in his heart that there could be something between them after all. But once you grow accustomed to loneliness it’s a little hard to let yourself believe.

“Do I need to show you to believe me?”

She pulls his face closer to hers and for a millisecond he wants to let go, but when he smells the alcohol on her breath he pulls back. This isn’t right.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re off your tits. I’m not kissing you like this. Our first kiss is not going to be some inebriated tongue-wagging. You hear me? I’m a hopeless fucking romantic, that kiss is gonna be special. I’m gonna kiss you stupid.”

She bites her lips to suppress the smile from taking over.

“So if I were to ask again tomorrow, you’d say yes?”

“Mh.”

“Promise?”

“Yes.”

At that she snuggles further into his arms and rests her head against his shoulder, a content smile on her face as she closes her eyes.

“Oh, I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

He doesn’t admit it, but neither can he.

I think you're beautiful & I’ll meet you halfway

“Roy?”

Her voice echoes through his house as the eggs sizzle on the stove.

“Why is there a small child looking at me?”

“Phoebe, stop staring at her you little creep!”

“She’s so pretty.”

She has a point.

10 minutes later the girls join him in the kitchen, walking in hand in hand and big smiles on their faces. Seeing them get along makes his heart grow approximately 12 sizes. That being said, the two of them teaming up against him sounds like trouble to him. Good trouble though. Trouble he loves to deal with.

“Good morning, Roy.”

“Morning. Pheebs, go sit down, breakfast is almost ready.”

“Okay, Uncle Roy.”

Once she’s out of the immediate earshot he turns back towards (Y/N). Though she tried her best to conceal it, yesterday's makeup is still smudged around her eyes and her hair is a downright mess. She’s wearing his shirt though, standing barefoot in his kitchen after bonding with his niece.

Sometimes life is fucking sweet.

“Don’t look at me like that, I know I look like a mess.”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You’re delusional.”

“That’s not what you said last night. Think you called me the fucking dream if I recall correctly. Said you were in love with me.”

(Y/N) leans against the kitchen island, her hands flat against the countertop and her eyes trained on Roy.

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

“Yes.”

Roy mirrors her position, arms resting on the kitchen island across from her. God, she really is so beautiful.

“Remember what you said?”

“Do you?”

“You promised me something, Roy.”

Roy Kent doesn’t make promises lightly. He thinks there’s hardly anything quite as heartbreaking and awful as breaking a promise. He prides himself in keeping all the ones he’s made.

It’s only right to keep this one too.

“Phoebe,” he calls out to the little girl without moving his eyes away from (Y/N) for even a second “Blindfold!”

The 6-year-old slaps her tiny hands over her eyes obeying her uncle's orders with no hesitation and no questions asked. He’s proud of her. Silly little idiot.

Leaning across the counter, his lips almost reach (Y/N)’s. She’s so close. So close.

Only —

“Fuck, I can’t reach. My knee.”

There’s so much love in her eyes as she regards him. It almost knocks him out.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll meet you halfway,” She says and gets up on her tiptoes.

Across the counter their lips meet. There are no fireworks or butterflies or an angel choir singing. But there is her tasting of toothpaste and smelling his deodorant. Her and the feeling of belonging. Of comfort and domesticity and love. He loves this woman, undeniably and irrevocably.

It’s a great kiss. Fucking mindblowing. There is no need for rom-com-induced fairytale fantasies when you have the real thing and it is so much better than any story could ever be.

“Hey Roy,” she whispers against his lips as they come up for air.

“Hmm?”

“The eggs are burning.”

“Fuck!”

“You owe me a pound, Uncle Roy!”

Irritating! Both of them.

They’re his whole entire heart.

I love you & I love you

“I love you.”

It’s a normal fucking Tuesday when she says it for the first time. Really says it. Using those exact words. There’s nothing special about that day but with those words, she puts magic into it. The way she puts magic into his life every single day.

“Fuck you!”

“Sorry, what?”

She’s laughing. She’s always laughing and smiling that goddamn smile that makes him go all soft inside. Beautiful, lovely, knockout that she is.

“I said fuck you. I’ve been thinking about how to tell you all fucking week and here you go and say it first. You’re infuriating.”

Softly she rolls over so she’s resting on his chest, fingers softly tracing patterns into his skin.

“You’ve said it a million times before, Roy.”

“I love you, (Y/N).”

Can’t hurt to say it again.

“I know. I knew. I always knew. From the moment you gave me your jacket.”

Of course, she knew. She took one look at him and it was like she got a view straight into his soul. Straight into his heart with all the vices and virtues, all his triumphs and defeats. All the good and the bad.

How fucking irritating. He loves her for it.

[maxidentscene]

boyfriend things skz does

⚘ genre. fluff

⚘ members. ot8

chan speaks up for you when your restaurant order is wrong

Yeah, you could do it yourself and he’s aware of that. The thing about this type of thing is that he knows you most likely won’t, normally everyone around him brushes things like this off because they don’t want to be an inconvenience or they’re too embarrassed

In his mind, time is precious and at a restaurant, time should be spent enjoying what you’re eating. He’s so reliable ahh

“You didn’t have to…” you trail off, finding his hand from across the table, running your thumb over his knuckles with a dopey smile on your face and hearts in your eyes because he’s just too sweet

He can only get shy and laugh, his dimples deepening and eyes closing, the sound making your heart flutter. Leave it to Chan to stick up for the ones he loves. “But you wouldn’t have liked it, right? I want you to like it.”

You will now that he spoke up for you. Get a man like Bang Chan and do not settle for less.

lee know is constantly blowing your phone up with things he finds funny because he wants you to laugh with him

In theory, this is cute as fuck because he’s thinking about you, he’s sending you these things that he enjoys because he thinks you’ll enjoy them as well

It’s endearing. But the thing about Minho is that he finds a wide spectrum of things funny, from bug fights to inappropriate jokes to among us memes. Yeah.

All you have to do around him is say sus and he’s lowkey busting a lung oh my god

But like I already mentioned, it’s sweet and honestly half of the time, the stuff he sends are things that you can find humor in as well so it isn’t always just him making a fool out of himself

“Do you find it annoying?” He flat out asks one day, to which you can only give him a ridiculous look, clinging to his side the lovey dovey way you know he hates and assuring him that you find his stupid little memes cute

changbin keeps you as close as physically possible when you’re in public

No, he isn’t being clingy! It’s just that in this day and age, it’s only right if he were to protect you from harm when out and about. A lot of things could happen if you weren’t in his care, there’s definitely no other reason!

Yeah, he’s being a little clingy. Don’t you love it though? The way he always guides you with a hand hovering above your lower back, the way he locks pinkies with you when meeting a spot with a big crowd, the way he can’t resist putting you in a gentle headlock as you wait in line to be seated for some food

“Bin,” you wheeze out with a laugh, tapping his arm as a signal to release you, secretly loving his proximity nonetheless. He lets you go, his other arm immediately finding it’s way locked around your waist. “Hands off.”

“Never,” he sighs into your neck, shaking his head back and forth, desperate for both your attention and to be escorted to your reserved table for dinner. A sigh in defeat is all he needed to hear, enjoying the feeling of your weight relaxing in his hold

It just felt safe this way. He knew from the bottom of his heart that he’d shield you in any kind of situation and ultimately, this is just for your best interest. The skinship is nothing more than a bonus

hyunjin makes sure to keep you farthest away from the road while you’re walking

Hyune was written by a woman. Literally a man out of a fantasy, a fairytale, the biggest gentleman in existence. He does all of the superficial shit like opening your car door, sliding your chair out for you, and this is one of the most often ways he takes care of you

Walking around the city isn’t something you do too often as he’s incredibly famous and there’s alternatives to getting to where you need to go, but sometimes you can’t beat a good walk to clear minds and refresh

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack,” you feel his hand wrap around your arm gently, guiding you to switch positions with him on the sidewalk so that you were on the safe side away from cars and traffic

He acts like it’s a bother, nagging you about how you need to be careful but the whiny pleas are tuned out, your heart swollen with love for him

He really, truly cares for you. He will always protect you in all ways possible, even if it means putting himself more in harms way. It’s just who he is

han is obsessed with you so bad that all of his passwords are related to you in some way

Call him a simp, call him a total fucking loser, he does not care. Nothing is going to change the fact that his passcode is just your birthday in digits and nothing is going to stop him from using your anniversary dates as every future password for accounts

“Text the groupchat back for me, baby,” Han calls from the bathroom, freshening up and getting ready for bed. You hum as you walk past the door, falling onto the sheets to find his phone and realizing you don’t even know how to unlock it without his face

You skip back to him, sitting up on the counter as he washes his face. “I don’t know the code,” you answer as he quirks up a brow. He nods, taking the phone from you and typing in your birthday, surprised to see the shocked look on your face

It was enough to make your heart flutter embarrassingly fast, catching you off guard, you were glad that you were sitting otherwise you might’ve been a little weak in the knees

“If this is how you feel about my phone password then I can’t imagine how you’d feel about my personal accounts…” he teases before placing a kiss on your nose, slapping your thigh gently before exiting the room

felix comes to your place at unreasonable hours of the night to take care of a bug for you

When you shoot him a text begging on your knees for him to come and take care of a spider, he’s got an attitude and acting like you woke him up as if he wasn’t on his damn games

“Where is it?” He’s holding back a laugh at the sight of you curled up on the couch, blanket draped over you. “Oh god, I hope it isn’t under there,” he gasps dramatically, letting giggles slip past his lips at the way you jump up and throw the blanket on the floor

You glare at him, grabbing his hand and stomping your way to your room, pointing out the spider and giving him something to catch it with before returning back to your watch post. This is unbelievable, it’s nearly 3 am and the spider is damn near minuscule

“You’re lucky I love you,” he sighs, shaking his head and leading the bug out of your window before plopping down beside you and resting on your shoulder. “It’s so late. Can I just stay here?”

You can’t resist hugging your hero tightly, kissing his head, smoothing out his hair and squeezing him so hard he almost lets out a squeak. “Stay as long as you want!”

seungmin is always taking photos of you when you’re out adventuring

Always has his phone camera in your fucking face and he doesn’t care if you love it or hate it because you just look so cute with your pretty self in front of some pretty flowers, you know?

Please understand that he just loves taking pictures and making memories. Majority of his fondest memories are with you when you go visit new places, eat good food, go on adventurous dates

His wallpaper is literally reset weekly like it’s on a schedule, always a picture he took of you in front of a statue in a silly pose or sprawled out in the grass with the sun hitting your face just right

“Smile like you mean it,” he mutters after you give a fake smile because this is the 50th picture he’s took within 3 minutes, getting the camera to focus just right, admiring you through the screen when you roll your eyes and listen to him

You can’t stay annoyed for long, not after seeing the way he beams and gushes at the results, impressed with his photography skills and so in love with you that it hurts

jeongin protects you when you play video games together

It’s so simple but so heartwarming, one of those little things that make you kick your feet and giggle at the thought. You didn’t even need to ask, he works to serve as your personal bodyguard in the game verse naturally

He practically begs you to play a bunch of battle royale and multiplayer games, promising that he’ll carry you if you happen to be bad. How could you say no to innie?

You only laughed at the statement until he kept his end of the deal, constantly taking bullets for you and dramatically dying in order to save you from monsters or other players

“Jeongin!” Your arms instantly wrap around his neck as he dies in your honor in game, pretending to fall back in real life as if he were impaled in the chest. “You could have won that!”

Yeah, he could’ve. Any and all of his friends would clown him too if they knew that he was self sacrificing his records and his playing just because he’s so whipped for you

[judasgot-it]

Dad! Jouno headcanons...

He just looks like a stressed as hell father here. Someone help him.

Before ->

To be totally honest, I don't think Jouno would ever plan to be a father. He would never plan to be one simply because he is completely aware of how horrible of a person he is

Why would he bring someone into the world who could be exactly like him? Or worse, he would end up being a horrible parent?

He would just avoid any topic about it.

So parenthood is 100% an accident. Also, this guy would probably try to convince his gf to get an abortion at some point, cause he probably thinks he would make a child that's just that horrible

I feel like the best chance of him becoming a parent would be him not knowing about it when he got arrested and was forced into being a hunting dog. Can't tell your gf to abort when you're in jail ig. Also now he is legally obligated to pay child support. GOTTEM!

Personal theory tho.

He probably wouldn't be jumping for joy at the thought of parenthood tbh. If anything, he is freaking out. I feel like he's in between denial and freaking out. Probably gave some weird rant about the government.

During pregnancy ->

If he's miraculously there (I think the last part is more plausible. This would be his #felonera) then he would be stressed as hell

Dude knows that it's inevitable (unless he throws her down the stairs. or smothers the baby. He probably thinks some weird shit it's Jouno sorry) so now he has to prepare for a very near future of being a father

He can't have sex for what might be the next few years. He has to learn how to take care of a baby. He's made Tecchou-like food combo's now. His life is hell.

Jouno I think would only be dramatic for a month and then get over it quickly -> he has two people relying on him now. Even past his kid being born, he will inevitably have to take care of his baby mom for a while after and will have to provide. Like a dad.

He probably loves the attention and the title it gives him. Probably starts owning it and is thinking 'yeah, actually, I'm going to be an awesome dad' because he gets brownie points for doing the bare minimum as a man

Dude would be kinda ridiculous and do lots of shit just so he can get praise. He's going to be a great dad, so yea, ofc he's going to buy weird useless shit no one would actually use. It's what good dad's do (he's not even pregnant and is suffering from baby brain I think)

Is probably terrified of touching his gf because he is more than aware that his child is in there and it unnerves him. Probably is super freakish about the most random shit, like drinking coffee or going up and down stairs since he can hear whats going on.

His normal level of anxiety goes through the roof during this time. I feel like they won't ever go back down again.

During the birth he would probably be supportive although I think the sounds and smells would be so horrific for him that he would vomit and be kicked out by nursing staff

I feel like the birth was so bad for him to hear (sensitive hearing would be terrible. and smell) that he would be crying as if he pushed a baby out of his hole

Raising that Child (early years) ->

The early years are the worst for him. He still is in a stage between "I want to be a good dad" and "I'm a horrible person I literally have fucking killed people. He doesn't know I have killed people and enjoyed it"

Would have this crisis with a literal baby btw. Probably has full on very serious conversations with his kid about morality when his kid still drinks from the tit

I don't think he'd enjoy being around his kid fully until he starts actually forming full thoughts. Obviously, he loves him, but he enjoys weird kid questions much more than a baby who shits himself

Eggs him on too, tries to make him think until his brain hurts. He thinks it's funny, making a seven-year-old wrap his head around the concept of global shipping and LLCs.

He wouldn't give his kid normal child entertainment. It's all educational and weird shit. Also is very picky about their toys, he's basically a beige mom but its about noises and smells. NEVER give his kid something like slime, he'll go insane.

I think he's 100% the 'bad cop' parent because he would have a lot of rules that a little kid wouldn't get. I feel like the other Hunting Dogs would get on his ass about it

I think Jouno probably worries a lot about giving his kid a good childhood since I doubt his was good - he was alive during the great war as a kid, he turned into a criminal, and he's an ability user. not the best circumstances.

100% has been forced to bring his kid to his job, but he doesn't actually introduce him to any of his actual duties. Torturing? He can't know about that.

Jouno lets his kid hang out with his colleagues -> probably Tachihara, who I think would play the best 'uncle' role out of all of them

Later years ->

Personally, I think Jouno would have a son, but I don't think its a curse. I think it would actually be a sort of blessing, because Jouno was probably a lot nicer of a person before whatever fucked up shit happened that made him the way he is now.

Mentioning this cause I think his son would probably be a direct reflection of who he could have been -> more happy and carefree, and less on the offensive about everything

So when his kid gets older, Jouno is probably some weird guy who tries to tell his kid everything he 'wished he knew at that age'

Probably got his son to have a sex talk from one of the hunting dogs doctors. it was a traumatic bonding experience for the both of them.

He definitely fake kidnapped his kid like 3 times in case something happened. Jouno is a super soldier, but his son is not. He needs to learn how to stab people.

Gave his son a gun/knife. Insists he brings it school, no he does not care if it's against the rules - he literally is the law. His son is also a target, so it is necessary in his eyes.

God please someone stop him he thinks someone is going to murder his son every second of every day

I'm pretty sure his son is some dweeb that Jouno is almost jealous of - like he never got the opportunity to be a dork who cries about homework. he was too busy killing people in his gang at that age

Jouno definitely drops the most insane dad lore. "I killed werewolves in Kenya once" while in the middle of a PTA meeting

Worst PTA mom btw. He WILL interrogate his sons teachers and pull up their records, he is the worst parent. He really shouldn't be allowed there actually

Is a lot nicer to his kid when his son is older.

He isn't his 'best friend' but he tries to do everything he can to be a good dad -> he lives everyday thinking that it'd be his last one with his family, so he tries not to leave with a bad impression

Jouno probably lies awake at night with the thought of what his last words could be to his family

The bitchy teen years would be the worst cause Jouno would probably have the best comebacks, so any sort of argument would be shot down immediately.

i dont think he lets arguments fly at dinner. If he's even there. He would be very busy, so I think his schedule would be erratic. Although I think his son would be the same and stay up at 3 am and get a lecture from him

The hunting dogs all try to teach his son about basic things like shooting and self-defense -> Teruko definitely shot at him once or twice so he knows how to avoid an assassination attempt.

Was actually really proud that his son graduated from school and is a relatively normal member of society. He never even killed someone, that's a high achievement!

[yngtort]

— Hate to love you

chan | lino | changbin | hyunjin | jisung | felix | seungmin | jeongin

NSFW ★

──────────

Xfem!reader • mdni • established relationship • cheating • choking • hate sex in which hyunjin finds out about your affair and decides to put you in your place

Anonymous : Oof I loooved your jealous fwb Felix fic ♥️ When you have time could you please make a jealous Hyunjin fic? It’s one of my favorite tropes 🥵

It had been two years since you got married. Two years of hyunjin having to deal with your complete and utter disrespect, and he’s just about had it.

You were a spoiled fucking brat. Spending all his money on obscene things, stuff that you didn’t even need. Designer clothes that you never wore filled up both yours and his closet.

and let’s not even get to that mouth of yours. Your tongue was always sharp with blonde, not holding back a single insult. You both argued like hell over small shit like breathing the same air. but y’all blew it so far out of proportion to the point where it becomes a full on war between you too.

And when you weren’t arguing, you weren’t talking at all.

But Hyunjin didn’t blame you for your attitude towards him. you were ripped out of your life in a matter of days Just to satisfy your parents expectations. trust him, he didn’t take lightly to the thought either. He ransacked the house when he found out, flipping out on his parents and tossing old relic vases into the walls. He was just as pissed as you were.

That is, until the day he met you.

Love at first sight, that’s what it was. You were a lot younger back then — your hair was shorter, face was warmer, and your voice was like silk as you begged him to call off the wedding.

“We both don’t want this.” You said with tearful and dejected eyes, hands trembling as you latched onto the hem of his dress shirt.

You looked at him the same way when you walked down the aisle of the church.

and during your honeymoon,

and at the birth of your kids,

You hated him with every fiber of your being and he knew it.

So he allowed you to be the snobby bitch that you are to him. It’s the price he’d have to pay for locking you away with a ring.

But there was one thing he could not stand the thought of, You deceiving him and going behind his back to be with another man. so he’s absolutely fuming as he stares at the photos on his phone. You’re seen walking hand in hand into a brothel with some long haired blondie. Had it not been for the fact that he’d just cut and dyed his hair, hyunjin would’ve thought it was him that you were with in these photos.

it was sickening, seeing articles alluding that you had been spending money —his money— on a male escort. Writers degrade the integrity of his character and your relationship— ridiculing his fathers company.

And it’s all your fault.

So you’re gonna pay for it.

It’s eerily quiet when you walk into the house. Not that it was ever loud or anything, but usually you could hear the faint sound of your kids playing in their room— tv running and soft giggles ringing in your ears.

But today, you were met by complete and utter silence. “I’m home,” you say to no one in particular, shrugging your jacket off your shoulders and hanging it on the coat rack.

You step deeper into the house, peeking in each room until you’ve reached hyunjin’s office. The door was ajar which threw you off completely. It was always kept locked unless he was here.

But he was supposed to be at the company today.

“Hyunjin.” You peeked your head in, immediately meeting with the man you wedded. He was leant on his desk, cigarette between his lips as his dark eyes stared back at you.

“What are you doing here? Where’s my children?"Hyunjin chuckled at the question, head shaking at you as you looked at him— trying to figure out what’s so funny.

He took a long, long drag from the cig, blowing the smoke out into the air right after. “I decided they needed a night away from their cheating mother,"

You sighed hearing his words, “I wanted to take them out to dinner.”

“You’re not even gonna deny it?” Hyunjin said with a scoff, clear disgust written across his face.

"There’s articles out about it now. There’s no point in lying” your shrug, “just buy off the writer or something. Your reputation won’t be tarnished for long.”

Hyunjin laughed in complete disbelief. You really didn’t care about any of this. It was all just a game to you, he was a game to you.

He put the cigarette before pushing off the desk and walking over to you, a tall figure towering down. “I can’t believe you.”

“I let you do what you want, walk over me and spend every dime…and this is what I get in return?” He snaps, voice laced with fire. “Had I known that you’d turn out to be a whore, I wouldn’t have married you.”

“I never asked for this, I never asked to be your wife.”

"And yet, here we are," Hyunjin countered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're married to me, y/n. You're the mother of my children. So, I expect you to act with some semblance of decency and respect.”

“And if I don’t?” You tested, taking a step forward as you pressed a finger to his chest. “just what are you gonna do about-“

It only took a few seconds, so swift and fast that you couldn’t even register the stinging pain of your back slamming into the wall and a hand wrapping around your neck.

“I’ll teach you how to respect me,” he growled as he held you there. your hands instinctively grip his wrist, nails digging into his skin. “You’ll learn your place in this house and you will never disobey me again.”

“I’ll never respect you, I hate you.” You bite, trying to fight your way out of his hold but hyunjins grip his firm— just barely enough to let you breathe.

"you hate me so much, yet you had to go find a man that looks exactly like me?" Hyunjin said, a smirk brewing on his face. “doesn’t seem like hatred to me.”

He watches in amusement as you visibly tense. Maybe the guy did resemble your husband, but so what? You didn’t pick him specifically for that reason….you think. All that sass your little body had, flew right out of the window as he closed the distance between the two of you.

“Tell me, was he even half as good as me? Or are you just a slut that enjoys sloppy dick?” He taunts as his free hand slides its way into your leggings and over your cunt.

“F-fuck you” you stuttered, feeling his fingers rub against your clothed folds— wetness seeping through the fabric.

“That's right. Fuck me, and only me.” Hyunjin whispers into your ear as his slinder fingers pass your panties into your sopping hole. He pumps them with ease, making sure to press against your cervix to draw out those loud moans of yours.

“Ngh, stop it..”you slur out, trying so hard not to submit but his fingers were working you good, your knees are just four more pumps from giving out. “hate you s’much..”

“That’s okay, baby.” He said, nose brushing against yours— “just gotta fuck you until you love me.”

With that, hyunjin latched his lips onto yours, eating up every moan you let out as he fingers you against the wall, thumb circling your clit in tight circles. N you’re like that for while, melting away with every thrust until your back arched— sending your chest against his.

Hyunjin smirks feeling you gush all over him, walls clenching and sucking on his digits for more, “such an easy little girl. Horny for anyone who bats an eye at you.” He teases as he frees his pulls back.

You’re so weak, almost sliding the wall— but your husband doesn’t let you.“S-stop it! Put me down!” You protest as He hoists you up, forcibly wrapping your legs around himself as he leads you to his desk.

He ignores your cries and places you there, pushing down on your back. Paper’s scrunching under you, pens dropping to the floor as you’re spread out for him to take.

Hyun hisses as he yanks your bottoms down, astonished at how your cunt glistened under his desk light. “so wet and yet you cry for me to stop.”

“t-that’s because-“

“Because you’re a whore? I know that already.” He said before kneeling down, coming face to face with your need. Gently he pushes his head forward, and in one swift motion, his tongue plunges into your slick heat, groaning as your taste coats his tongue.

Your head falls back, mewls leaving your lips as he devours your sensitive cunt. Tongue lapping over the bud, making you completely dizzy.

“Hyun, fuck, just like that, mm gonna cum” you cried, high just a few steps away.

“Don’t you dare.” Hyun grunts before pulling back, denying you release before two fingers plunging into you instead. “you don’t deserve it.”

“No, no, please.” You sob, legs closed around his wrist as he finger Fucks for the second time today. “‘Mm sorry,”

Hyun chuckles darkly, “you’re not sorry, but you will be soon.” He groans, replacing his fingers with his cock, slowly pushing in. Inch by inch he fills you up, nestling deep inside, his hands holding your thighs open.

He slams his hips forward, heavy girth railing you with no remorse, claiming your tightness as his own.

“Dumb girl.” Thrust, “Can’t keep your legs closed” Thrust, “needa wash your filthy cunt out with my cum” Thrust.

He growls lowly as he feels himself getting closer to the edge, his cock throbbing inside of you. "You’re gonna be a good loyal wife now, aren't you? Let me use you when I want?"

“Y-yes, I’ll be s’good.” you answer, barely even there— mind lost in a headspace you’ve never even explored before. “Yours, y/ns yours.”

“Say it, “ Hyun bites out, his fingers digging into your hips as he pulls back before slamming forward again, the force of his movements causing your body to jerk forward each time. “Tell me you love me.”

“Fuck, I-I love you..love you s’much hyunie.”

With a final thrust, Hyunjin hips slam against yours, pushing his dick as deep inside you as it can go before releasing his seed. His hands grip your hips tighter as he holds himself there, panting heavily as he fills you to the brim.

"That's it...that's it...gotta make more pretty babies” he rubs your tummy, slowly pumping his load deeper into you and making you whine.

Hyunjin slowly reels back, dick leaving your hole with a wet pop. “I love you so much, beautiful.”

“Love you more.”

:)

Nni : finally did my first request !! Whoop!! I hope you liked it <3 wanna do more, so start sending people !!

Tinytags (comment to be added) : @sydnerss @sunnyyangie @panjakes @foxinnie8 @inniescandy-01

[pseudophan]

some post wad weekend thoughts...

i just wrote all this on the plane and haven't read it through so apologies for any mistakes

first of all, this weekend was incredible. i usually just kinda sit at home doing not much of anything, and this was a much needed break to actually have some fun. london in general always lifts my spirits but i suppose that danisnotonfire guy contributed a little as well.

guys i think i've met more people the past few days than i otherwise have in years. like. holy shit. i started listing people but i'm petrified i'll forget someone so i chickened out, sorry about that. but you all know who you are. i've met friends i've had for years, people i used to know but haven't spoken to in what feels like a decade, newer friends, and a frankly baffling amount of people i didn't know yet but who told me they've followed me for ages. like holy fuck you guys lmao what the hell??? and i mean did the reaction ever get old no of course it didn't. bad for my ego i'm sure but totally worth it. there's something very amusing and incredibly surreal about being chronically lame in most aspects of life and then suddenly finding yourself in an environment where you're kinda cool???? SO fucking fun oh my god, but also i do kinda feel like i've tricked you all? but hey i'll happily let you keep believing i'm cool, that is more than fine with me.

most importantly though everyone was SO lovely. like i said i don't think i've spoken to this many people in such a short amount of time in years and every single person i talked to was awesome. guys did you know phannies are kind of great... don't tell anyone but, lowkey... everyone is so funny and cool and absolutely insane but in a good way (shoutout everyone left at the gates until the very end, we should probably get some help).

and then lastly of course, mr howell himself. i talk about this a lot i feel like but fuck me that man was born to perform. whether you think he's actually funny or not, nobody can argue he doesn't absolutely thrive on a stage. he plays off the audience so well and he's so very obviously having the time of his fucking life. i'd already seen the show twice before this, and i didn't think anything would top the previous london show but man... the first night he came back out after the show having clearly been tearing up backstage, apologising for being an inconsistent absent parent, and i can't lie the "i had daddy issues and THEN i subscribed to dan howell" got me cause yeah no literally dude, you nailed it, exactly, well done. i think something about doing this show again, his magnum opus as he considers it, now after the dapg return was very special to him. he seems genuinely surprised that so many of us were ready to just jump back in like nothing happened, i don't think he was expecting so many people to still be waiting and it's... man. he comes off so grateful for us all and it's so fucking sweet. and then on the last night, i think that was my favourite, when the show ended and he got the standing ovation and people throwing him flowers.. he was so HAPPY. and clearly overwhelmed with emotion which, i gotta say, there is something honestly kinda funny about daniel howell standing in front of you trying not to cry. like no by all means dude go ahead, please, you've made me cry an endless amount of times it's only fair.

ugh. i'm proud of him or whatever. dick. and i'm proud of our ridiculous fucking community. i'm not sure what 14 year old nora would say if you'd told me i'd still be kicking it in the phandom a decade on, but at almost 25 (fml) i'm so so happy to be here still. you know, we get a bad rep, but i genuinely think as far as fanbases go we're pretty solid. and i love you all so much.

i believe i will have to rob a bank or something because the next time dan and/or phil do a tour i think i'll have to just show up at every date like i'm sorry but this was too good of a high we need to do it again immediately

anyway. back to work 💪

(by which i mean giffing dan and phil. i am still very much unemployed. fr though i'm two whole videos behind this has never happened i feel weird. who am i)

[bizarrelittlemew]

Hello, I’ve been unable to watch the NYCC panel but I see everywhere that is was awful and weird?!?! What actually happened ? Could you make a little recap for people like me who didn’t get to see it? Thank you!

I'll try my best ✌️ this is just the impression I got though (and sorry this got long lmao)

it was awkward because they weren't allowed to talk about ofmd, which made the whole thing seem more and more ridiculous as it went on. in addition, they had to do a sort of game where they were asked questions like "who is the most likely to do [x]" and then write a name on a board and reveal it at the same time. this could've been fine for maybe 10 minutes but they had them do it for the whole hour.

the issues with this game were that 1) the questions were very "generic corporate ice breaker questions", 2) they spent a lot of time in silence writing down, and 3) when a question finally did lead to stories or conversation, it was quickly shut down in order to move on to the next boring question and writing in silence.

they could've asked them about non-struck work (Rhys even brought up the books he's written several times and it wasn't followed up on), they could've collected and vetted fan questions beforehand, they could've just let them talk idk, they could've found a more fun game or ditched the boards (one of my fav moments was Rhys saying something like "I have a mic, why do I have to write it down?" honestly this would've made it 25% less boring lmao).

adding to that, there were sound issues meaning that Con and Rhys couldn't hear what was going on a lot of the time. Rhys said it again and again and nothing was done about it.

you could just tell how frustrated they all were and what this panel could have been if not for the shitty studios refusing a fair deal for the actors. I think the cast did what they could, and there were some sweet and funny moments. but it was clear that Rhys was pissed about not being able to talk about what they all wanted to talk about (I felt bad for everyone but especially for him).

they did a whole "ha ha we were all in New Zealand at the same time what a coincidence" thing and Rhys said that (paraphrased) if only they could be paid fairly, they could create something great with all the talent in the room, going off on the studios for a bit. it was honestly a bit of a relief for someone to voice it (to me, it felt like someone had to say something lmao and he did).

in the end they got a question about fantasy worlds. Rhys said he already lived in a fantasy world in his head and it was nice, though this was one of the odder moments. Matt and Nathan basically agreed and said it was all very weird (in different words). Rhys then said fantasy worlds are important because the real world is shit right now and there's no denying it; that in fantasy worlds we can all love each other and use kindness; and it's important to keep creating and believing in them until the real world becomes like that too.

and then he said "goodnight" (= "fuck this shit I'm out"), got up, put on his sunglasses, and started beat-boxing and rapping saying "why can't we talk about the show". their time had run out anyway, he said it had certainly been an experience, that he couldn't hear much of what was going on, and they all thanked the audience and it ended ✌️

anyway this is just my take and I hope SAG-AFTRA get a fair deal soon so the cast can celebrate the show with us like they so clearly want to. I also hope Matthew Maher does more panels after this (it was his first I think!) despite it being such a weird experience because he was great to watch!! anyway they're all happily doing photo ops and autographs now I guess 🤸

(if you want to watch there is a way)

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 2 - Smile for me, Red.

Summary: Kirishima comes to collect his usual coffee with a worn down, fake smile on his face. Y/N’s having none of it.

I know I said the next chapter will come in two weeks, but you guys sent me so much love I can’t help but post another one. The next one will be late, though!

Warnings: Swear words

First Chapter Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Did you just come in through window?” You deadpan as your himbo of an uncle sneaks in through the manager’s office window, ten minutes late.

“Didn’t want people to see me.” The old man sighs as the plops down on the nearest chair.

“You shouldn’t have put your signature on the wall then.” You raise your brows and your manager nods approvingly. “Also, Red Riot works next door. He won’t be much of a help to the society if he dies in a heart failure after seeing you sneaking around their private parking spot.”

“How did the boy like the present, Y/N?” Crimson Riot winks, his hair just as obnoxious and spiky as always; okay you have no right to say anything about his hair as your own is the same color, but still, those spikes might have worked when he was 30, but they aren’t working now. “I can’t believe my little girl finally met her crush. Do you remember, when…” Your uncle is about to start reminiscing but you ain’t having any of that.

“This is a work meeting, Uncle. I know you hate talking about numbers but you are the fucking owner so shut up and listen to my manager.” You sigh, already knowing he’ll try to change the topic again as soon as the meeting actually starts.

Okay, so here’s the deal: your uncle is like a second dad to you. Why? Because your mom and dad are both businessmen and they travel around a lot which made your retired uncle your almost full time babysitter after you grew up enough to be able to move around and exist without choking on air. Your parents love you, you know that but they live for their jobs.

Watching the school festival in the TV was one of your favorite things to do with your uncle; he adores seeing the young heroes challenging each other without the putrid smell of death lurking around the corner; being a hero can be quite fun when you are still in school but the real deal is nothing like the silly little work studies; it’s gruesome and cruel, full of blood and loss, but watching these young students fight so seriously for nothing but a gold medal kinda makes you forget about all of the dark side for a second and just enjoy the show.

You were around fourteen or fifteen when the young, sturdy hero wannabe appeared on the screen for the first time; his passion and positive attitude caught both of your eyes right away and it didn’t take long before the word went around about the boy being a massive Crimson Riot fan so needless to say, you two spent most of your time searching the internet for more information about the young boy and eventually, this became a family tradition every time you had to spend the night at your uncle’s house. First, it was only tiny articles you could find, but eventually as he got older there were full interviews available for you to watch with your uncle after a shitty day at work. You don’t come by his house that often anymore, but when you do, Red Riot always comes up. The story your uncle was about to tell is probably about you having an absolute crush on the boy when you first saw him on the screen; you remember getting really flustered by his adorable smile, shark teeth and all. Crimson Riot always liked to joke about how funny it would be to have Red Riot join your little family and you always yelled and laughed at your silly uncle for being ridiculous, but seeing him in really life really made you question if your uncle secretly wanted you two to meet and make your dreams a reality, hence why the cafe ended up to be so close to their agency.

Also, it’s not like you actually had a crush on him; maybe when you were 15 you really did crush on the boy but now you are 25 and definitely way past the celebrity crush phase; you two kept up your tradition and watched his interviews every week, but it was more of a habit than anything else.

The meeting doesn’t take long; your manager mumbles out a bunch of numbers then after one look at your uncle’s confused face she realizes that “the big boss” did not check his e-mails this week so she tells him that the business is going well and that’s enough for him to leave your manager alone for another week or so. He doesn’t really care about the money anyway; having a cafe was on his bucket list so he made it happen and he really doesn’t give a fuck about the rest until he’s not actually loosing money on it. This whole meeting isn’t really necessary to be honest but it’s a way for him to feel included; he doesn’t want anyone to know his connection to the cafe so he can’t really lurk around during opening hours. It’s quite silly as the name of the coffee shop literally has his name in it, but to be fair, he’s been retired for a decade, no one really gives enough fucks to put one and two together. Except Red Riot, but he’s too busy being an excited golden retriever to question how did you manage to get him a signature so soon.

“Okay, it’s almost opening time, let’s get shit done.” You sigh, not ready for another 12 hour shift.

Why do you work so much? The answer is really easy; you have nothing else to do. Yes, quite sad. Now let’s move on.

“Language!” Your manager reprimands but you only roll your eyes at that; you’ll never understand why are people so obsessed with swear words. They are just words. They are completely harmless.

Red Riot appears a few minutes after the doors open; he doesn’t jump around this time, doesn’t even look at his favorite poster, just comes straight to the counter with the fakest smile on his tired, but handsome face.

Oh no.

First of all, Red Riot being sad? That’s unacceptable. That guy is a ray of sunshine all the time, you swear you can see a trail of rainbow coming out of his gorgeous and juicy ass as he skips towards his agency every day.

Second of all, how dare he look so fucking handsome even with those massive Gucci bags under his eyes? How dare he make you feel like you need to smush his face between your boobs until he gives you that typical shark-smile you adore so much?

Oh man, you are so gone. So fucking gone and the man in front of you has no fucking idea about it.

“Can I have my usual, please?”

“No.” Red Riot looks gobsmacked. He’s clearly not in the mood for teasing but he schools his face anyway; he tries to laugh it off, he really tries, but he can’t hide the sadness in his eyes. “Not until you tell me who made my favorite customer look so miserable. I need to start plotting a murder here, fella.” You mumble to him in a baby voice. Your upper body is basically laying on the counter at this point; you try to get as close to the red haired hero as humanly possible without being too obvious. Well, this is already extremely obvious but you have a feeling you could kiss this man on the mouth and he would still think you are just being friendly. Silly boy.

“You can’t murder something that doesn’t exist, Y/N.” He tries to smile again and fails miserably.

“It’s all in your head, isn’t it?” You mumble to yourself, but he jumps into your sentence.

“No, I mean there is no problem, I don’t know what you are talking about! Can I have my coffee? Please?” The redhead begs, but you can’t let this go. This man won’t leave this shop until he gives you a real smile.

“There is a lot of things I hate you know, but what I hate the most is when someone I care about lies into my face.” You retort angrily. “But I will give you another chance to redeem yourself by asking this: what can a poor little barista do for you to make that smile on your face a real one?” You can’t help it; your hand reaches out to the two sides of his lips and you push the skin up to force him to “smile”. His cheeks redden from the sudden closeness and it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. “I’m a good listener, you know. I also give good advice. This is also the perfect opportunity for you to say that a date with me would cheer you up. I’m just saying!” You finally let him go. Damn, thank god for your poker face because deep inside, you are absolutely freaking out about how close you were to him just a second ago. He smelled so fucking nice, quite strong but there is a hint of sweetness to it which you absolutely love.

“I… I think… that… maybe…” The man stutters adorably, his whole face as red as a lobster. “I just need a …hug? I might cry a bit though. I feel a bit lonely today plus I had a nightmare and…” You don’t wait for him to finish his sentence. You jump right through the stupid counter; you did get some training from your uncle so you are more than capable to do all kind of tricks like that; then run right into the stupidly tall man’s arms.

First, he just stands in one place, his arms hanging by his sides as you cuddle into his humongous chest; then slowly, he lets the facade crumble. There are tiny sniffles coming from the redhead as he finally puts his arms around you; the hug is tight, almost suffocating, but fuck if it doesn’t feel amazing. You are not sure if it’s him who needed that or it was just you.

“Stop being so nice to me, I’ll fall in love with you.” He mumbles into your ears; you can feel the goosebumps going down your spine from his husky voice.

“Stop lying to yourself, Red, you are already in love with me.” You giggle as you leave a cheeky kiss on the man’s chin to make sure he has something else to think about today.

“Guilty as charged.” Red Riot’s signature grin is finally back and damn if it doesn’t hit differently from this angle. Your heart has a really hard time with the fact that he didn’t even try to deny his crush on you.

“Go to work, Red.” You smile at the hero and make your way back to finally make his coffee. “On the house.” You give him his latte, but not before you leave a tiny kiss on the redheads cheek. “And this too.” You smile at him fondly.

“Amazing customer service. 10/10. Tell your manager to give you a raise. Or something. Yeah. Uhm. Bye.”

You’ll never forget his manic grin as he ran out of the door and went the wrong way by accident. He almost head butted a pole as well.

Fucking hell, you absolutely adore this man.

Is it a crush? Is it love? Or is it just fondness? You have no idea. One thing for sure; you can’t wait to meet him again tomorrow.

~•🪨•~

Kirishima is in pieces.

He got a hug from his favorite barista. And a kiss. On his chin. And his cheeks… fuck, that’s two whole kisses. Not one, but two. And a hug.

Did he say, he got two whole kisses today?

Oh. He did.

Well, he will say it again.

Kirishima Eijirou just got a kiss from the most amazing girl in the whole city.

Who did?

He did.

“Wake the fuck up, Eijirou!” Katsuki yells into his face, the violent action topped up with a not-too-sneaky explosion attack, but even that’s not enough for him to completely get out of it; he stares at the lovely coffee in his hands, caramel latte with extra whip cream and chocolate shreds.

You know who made this coffee for him? The girl who kissed him. She did. Kiss him. On the cheek. And on his chin. Two kisses. Two.

Ahh, what a day to be a guy named Kirishima Eijirou.

What a day indeed.

“Katsuki, I think I’m having a fat ass crush.”

“Fucking marvelous, now can you give me the fucking agency stamp before I explode you through your asshole?” Katsuki sighs.

Kirishima is so proud of his bro. He’s been through a lot this year; he’s lost his assistant (no, she’s not dead, just pregnant. No, not from Katsuki, you cheeky bastard.) then got a new one he fell in love with, then he almost lost that person due to a quirk accident. Oh, and he almost died due to a quirk called “anguish” that makes you relive your worst nightmares until you give up and decide death is much better than the suffering that comes with it.

If that’s not enough, Katsuki’s feelings were reciprocated and Katsuki is basically a married man now who wakes up early every day to pack two bentos for his fiancé and himself, sometimes three when he feels generous towards his best bro. Katsuki is still his own, explosive self, don’t get Kirishima wrong; but he’s also much more emotional, much more patient when it comes to Kirishima’s silly flaws. He loved the old Katsuki just as much as he loves this one but he does feel like they’ve got much closer since Katsuki managed to open up to the world a bit more. He’s so proud of his best buddy.

“Sorry, bro.” Kirishima smiles at his best bud with nothing but fondness. Katsuki only rolls his eyes.

“So… how is she? Or he. Or whatever. They. Dunno.” He mutters and Kirishima perks up right away; his bestie is so open-minded, goddamit!

“She’s beautiful and kind. She smells really nice. She teases me all the time and doesn’t even see me as a man I think, but every single moment with her feels like a gift.”

Katsuki doesn’t say anything first, he just looks at Kirishima, searching for something; Kirishima has no idea what he’s looking for.

“You know there is one thing I realized since I… uhm. Fell in love or whatever…”

“Yeah?”

“No one will be able to love you if you can’t even love yourself.” Katsuki retorts with his ears tinted red. “So work on that before you do anything stupid.”

Hm. Love yourself. Kirishima can do a lot of things, but self-love ain’t one of them. Self-hatred? Kirishima is secretly a pro at that. Self-pity? He’s number one at that as well.

But self-love? Zero points.

He has a long way to go before he can ask the girl of his dreams on a date then.

… Next Chapter!

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Potato ramble:

- Wow, this chapter was so short! Sorry about that! The chapters will get longer as the story develops by the way, so don’t worry :D

- Thank you so much for all the love on the first chapter, I couldn’t fucking believe it, to be honest. I literally thought no one will respond to it, yet it got hundred likes in less than a week. Thank you so much, you actually made me tear up. I hope you will like this story until the end! 💜

TL (how is this so long already, I love you guys so much, honestly!): @porusuniverse @sixxze @unofficialmuilover @cheesenmax @readingfan @sammmm29 @pwinglez1 @happydragonfrog @magicalhandsherringclam @lovingnightharmony @theequeenofcurses @kirishima-eijirock @nerinefy