#in which time is so fucking stupid and so fucking unhinged

[celestial-sapphicss]

reblog and put in tags the prominent musical artists phases in your life

[opens-up-4-nobody]

I watched like 38 episodes of hunter x hunter in like thes last day or 2 and I think it melted my brain

[toytulini]

honestly sounds like an unwise choice of dog(young high energy likely due to breed temperament and lineage to to have a higher reactivity and distrust of strangers?) have in that environment and im glad hes apparently living with family friends now, hope that helps w the behavioral issues

[demonslayerunhinged]

It's crazy to think that in this moment Tanjiro didn't just save Genya, he saved Sanemi too.

Imagine the fallout that would have happened if Sanemi had succeeded in blinding Genya.

He would lose the respect of all the slayers including Obanai because ignoring your brother is one thing but blinding him? Nah.

He might get banned from the corps and Kagaya would express his upmost disappointment in him which for Sanemi is like a death sentence.

His relationship with Gyomei would be destroyed. Genya might be his brother but remember he's still under the guidance of the strongest hashira.

I think Gyomei's reaction would be especially disasterous because he knows the kinds of assumptions people make about him because of his blindness, and to find out that Sanemi deliberately blinded his brother. Like dude.

Sanemi would never forgive himself. Like I said ignoring your brother is one thing but intentionally maiming your loved one crosses a line that he wouldn't be able to come back from.

So all this would happen because of some stupid, impulsive decision he made due to fear.

And I think he realizes it too. The fact that he left Genya alone after the incident, if he really thought his actions were sane and justified he would keep trying to poke his eyes out but he didn't. he seems ashamed to face him.

Just look at his face, he's like 'wtf??? I can't believe I almost blinded my baby bro!', 'what the fuck Sanemi?', 'what the fuck?, what the fuck?!'

This is the face of someone who can't believe and is ashamed of his actions.

In his next encounter with Tanjiro notice how he doesn't go apeshit and give him another beat down. It's only when he feels that our bestest boy is making fun of him that he lashes out. He's probably glad that Tanjiro saved Genya and is looking out for him but his stupid male pride won't allow him to say that.

Also look at the position of the scratch on Genya's face. He's being hurt a second time by the people he loves. My poor babyyyyy!

Sanemi I love you but that's absolutely unhinged behavior even for you. Like do I need to bring out the spray bottle?

Bad Nemi! *spritz *spritz

This kinda adds to my theory that Sanemi has some kind of anxiety disorder in addition to his depression.

Also shout-out to Zenitsu for taking Genya away no questions asked. He's such an underrated character. 🤗

[byfulcrums]

been rewatching rtte

toothless is called T multiple times, but the letter T doesn't exist in the alphabet of this world

i think hiccup was also called H???

hiccup went to the wedding of the man who tried to kill him and his family multiple times. no wonder he thought he could change drago's mind

snotlout is canonically a theater kid

"you're so small and cuddly" "please never say that again"

the twins are really smart, but they're also just stupid

hiccup straight up disappears when he's working on something

heather had a super noticeable crush on astrid

fishlegs got a love interest!! a plus size main character actually has a cool, badass love interest!

it was super hetnormative but it was cute

there was an island full of flying women who were implied to regularly commit cannibalism

hiccup taught all the riders how to fly with toothless, that's so sweet

everyone is a flat earther except for the twins

hiccup almost directly killed a lot of people

and killed a LOT more when destroying their ships

“scalding– cal..ding--" "toothle, plama bla!" was pretty much the funniest part of the entire series

dagur was bullied as a kid by a guy 8 years older than him who literally tattooed an imagine of him beating up little dagur in his arm??? What was that all about

actually we need to talk about how messed up everything about dagur is and about how the things that could've/did happen(ed) to him may be the reasons why he's Like That

just why was he imprisoned by the outcasts??? he didn't do anything to them directly

oof my brain is spiraling. "he loved you" "ig now we'll never know" what do you mean he didn't know if his dad loved him

there's a technically musical episode

tuffnut became hiccup's defense attorney and immediately got him the death sentence

hiccup regularly jumps off cliffs

he also jumped off a boat, with his arms tied and without toothless. just where did he think he was going

snotlout's annoying attitude is actually because spitelout pressures him too much and he feels like he has to be perfect for his dad :((

THE 'HICCUP'S EVIL MIRROR' VILLAIN THEME DONE RIGHT YESS!!!

viggo is the best httyd villain change my mind (you can't, swords at sundown, you may bring backup but i will win on my own)

skrill comeback skrill comeback SKRILL COMEBACK!!!!

"COMEEE TO DADDY"

what is a boar pit???

oh my god i had missed this series so much. it has no right to be this funny

this was my childhood. it has forever shaped the way i am

berserker heather the unhinged >>>

actually good disability rep! yay

hiccup complains about his peg leg pinching him

he straight up cannot walk without it and it is shown many times

"well, there are the benefits of a metal leg" after it got caught in a bear trap

funny moments, like snotlout trying to steal it to use it as a weapon

the jokes!! toothless laughing at the jokes!!! hiccup being so fucking done with the twins, who are always making the jokes!

there's an episode where everyone is so sleep deprived they actually start spiraling

astrid becomes a happy go lucky girl, hugs snotlout and tells him he's handsome

the fucking mood swings snotlout got were insane

the twins were straight up just hallucinating

"i sent them to wash their dragons, how could they mess that up?" cut to heather falling on her face with a bucket full of water in her hands

fishlegs becomes so paranoid, he's yelling at everyone all the time

"don't you know the trapper's trap can trap the trapper?? ...oh gods, i must be losing it, i'm quoting dagur"

YOOOO VALKA!!!! it's so nice to see her

hiccup tried to murder dagur to stop him from getting to toothless, which is scary bc it shows just how far he's willing to go for his bff, but also funny because hiccup. that was not going to work

oh the hiccstrid slowburn, how i have missed you

the twins's made up language

there was a beach episode turned murder mystery and a musical episode held at gun point

hiccup has a whole little speech that he periodically gives astrid to remind her that the twins serve a purpose

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Troublemaker - C.SC

🚨Who: Choi Seungcheol (Seventeen) x female reader 🚨What: Gang au, smut, gang boss Seungcheol, gang member reader, angst, humour(low key crackish) and some fluff to top it all off. 🚨Wordcount: 15.9k 🚨Warnings: Do not take anything I write about police/law seriously, I don’t know shit about anything, okay. Reader is unhinged and shameless(and emotionally incompetent). Gang typical stuff; violence, drugs, alcohol, prostitution, theft etc. Handcuffs. Profanity. Degrading names. Unprotected sex, hair pulling, oral(both), multiple sex scenes/positions, breeding kink, choking, multiple orgasms, clit slapping, marking and potentially other fun things I’m likely forgetting about.

Summary: You're known for being able to get your hands on anything you want; drugs, weapons, money, cars. Except your boss, he's always been a little out of your reach, until the day you have him handcuffed in the backseat.

Minors do NOT interact, which means reblogging and/or commenting on this story. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N- the image of Seungcheol on his knees with his hands behind his head getting arrested popped into my head and spawned this and i am not okay This story well and truly ran away from me, I cannot be held accountable for this shitshow. I planned a quick lil smut thing and then the fluff and angst appeared and here we are.

It's a beautiful sight to pull up to; the Choi Seungcheol on his knees, thick thighs spread wide with his fingers lacing together behind his head, biceps bulging in his plain white t-shirt. The same Choi Seungcheol who for the past four years has been running the most cunning, slippery gang that has graced the city in decades. 

Local law enforcement has been trying to get their mitts on him since before he even started the gang, but Seungcheol is smart, he's always made sure to keep his hands squeaky clean. 

Which is why when you heard the news come through on your police scanner that he's been spotted with some real nasty fuckers and this is the chance to get him cuffed, you wanted to get there asap to witness and join the scene.

Who wouldn't want to have the pleasure of slapping some cuffs on Choi Seungcheol and shove him around a little, afterall?

"What did you get him for?" You ask as you approach the scene with nothing but confidence, thumbs hooked into your belt casually. 

Seungcheol glances over at you and his jaw tightens with how hard he clenches his teeth; he takes you in from head to toe, dressed in uniform so crisp it's like you've just pulled it on. You have. He doesn't look impressed.

"Probable cause," the young, over-eager cop getting ready to handcuff Seungcheol informs, sounding almost proud while his partner keeps his gun pointed firmly at Seungcheol's head. 

Seungcheol isn't stupid, reckless at times, yeah; he's been known to get pretty injured and take some big risks with his own body in order to get what he wants, but even he wouldn't risk making a move in front of a trigger-happy rookie-cop.

"Oh, you fucking idiots," you laugh, walking over to snatch the cuffs into your own hold.

"What the fuck?" The younger cop baulks dumbstruck. "Who the fuck are you to just-" 

"You really think you're going to get brownie points with the Captain by brining him Choi Seungcheol with no solid fucking cause? You think you can just put the guy in cuffs and the rest will follow? You're fucking stupid, kid," 

"But we caught him," 

"Yeah and you know what his legal team is like? You're fucking lucky I turned up,"

"Why?" 

"Because I'm willing to take him off your hands and deal with it myself. I've had my eye on Choi for fucking years, boys; I've got quite the file on him. What have you got?" 

Admittedly, you take a hell of a lot of joy in grabbing Seungcheol's right forearm to force it down and around to his lower back where you can secure the cuff around his wrist. He grunts at the unexpected force yet doesn't fight you, just clenches his jaw tighter. 

"That's a good boy," you whisper into his ear while the two cops exchange lost, almost torn expressions as they attempt to silently communicate with one another what to do.

Clearly, they don't want to just hand the man over to you but you're right; they don't have shit on Seungcheol and it would only cause them a lot of hassle to arrest him. He's too smart to talk, even in holding and would just stare darkly at them, not moving a muscle until he's released. It happened before, once, over a year ago and his legal team tore apart the station so thoroughly that the cops who arrested him had to resign and get minimum wage jobs despite being the best the precinct had to offer. 

Once you've got Seungcheol securely in the cuffs, you grab his bicep and appreciatively squeeze it as you tug on him to signal him up. You have to bite back your pleased grin at the powerful man listening to your silent orders and obediently getting up. He glares at you over his shoulder.

"You boys better get back to your patrol before you get demoted," you warn, shoving Seungcheol towards your car. He stumbles a little and glares at you again but you ignore it to reach past him and open the back door. 

Seungcheol swears and mutters under his breath when you roughly push his head down and urge him into the back of the car. He almost falls flat on his face onto the cheap imitation-leather seats. You shut the door before his colourful language cussing you out, spills out any further. 

"What?" You ask the two young men still watching you dumbly. "I know, my ass looks great in these," you smirk smugly to yourself and smack your own ass making both men jump at the loud, sudden sound. 

"Yeah," the younger agrees mindlessly, eyes now glued to your ass as you open the driver's door. 

"Idiot," his partner hisses, backhanding him. "Don't fucking agree, now she's gonna report you for sexual harrassment!" 

"She started it!" 

While the pair are arguing, you take the chance to climb into your car and drive off with a pleased little cackle at causing the most chaos you could with so little to work with.

At the end of the street, Seungcheol kicks the back of your seat. You don't need to look at him to know he's glaring at you, you can feel the burn of his gaze on the side of your face. You love it.

"Now now, Mr Choi, please respect my car," he kicks the seat again making you snicker. "So ungrateful, I just saved you from being locked in an interrogation room for 24 hours. You'd think you'd be at least a little appreciative." 

"Like fuck am I," he grunts and shuffles closer to the criss cross of bars separating the two halves of the car. "Didn't have to be so fucking rough, you bitch." You lift your eyes to the rearview mirror to meet his gaze and grin smugly at him before returning your gaze to the road in front of you. "Sick fuck, you get off on it, don't you?" 

"Damn right," you confirm shamelessly with an almost twisted smirk. "Big boss man on his knees for ickle ol' me. Gets me all warm and tingly, Cheolie." 

"How many times have I got to tell you not to fucking call me that?" He's too close to the front seats to kick them again but he does knee the back of yours where his legs are spread as wide as possible in his pale ripped jeans to allow him so close. 

Fuck, you wish you could see his thighs right now. You quickly look over at him to test your range of sight but the fucking seats are in the way. Dammit. 

You sigh and turn back to the road forlornly. "Well, maybe if you ever punish me like you claim you will and then never stick to it, I might learn my lesson."

"You'd fucking like it," he grumbles. You just grin. Yeah, you definitely would. "Pull over and uncuff me." 

"Nope."

"I'm warning you, little one," 

"Pretty sure I'm the one in charge here," you chirp, unaffected by his low, warning tone. Though a second later you're choking on a laugh when his body jerks forward due to you suddenly breaking to join the queue of traffic at a red light. Seungcheol's forehead slams into the grate making him swear harshly. "Oops," you offer with false innocence and a big grin.

"You fucking-" he starts harshly, only to cut off when you pull away rapidly at the green light, sending him toppling back in the seats and cutting off with a surprised sound. You don't stop yourself from laughing that time.

"Now, here's what's gonna happen, Cheolie," you declare when you turn around in your seat to look at where the big gang boss is sitting quietly in the back seat, hands still cuffed behind him between his thick body and the backrest. His thick legs spread with his slouched position. 

Man, he's so fucking thick. You know it's true all over his body. You've conveniently walked in on him fucking enough people to know that the man's blessed with a diabolically thick cock too. 

Not forgetting the memorable time he didn't notice your very obvious spy camera in his bedroom for a full two months. For two glorious months you got to watch him wrap a hand around his cock and cum over his chest in live action and automatically recorded for your rewatch pleasure. 

You've never been more glad that he has a strict policy of not taking anyone to his home to fuck, you quite enjoyed his solo sessions and still watch them regularly. 

In fact, you had been watching one while spread over your own bed when the scanner had caught your attention. You didn't even have the chance to clean up, your thighs are still sticky. But that could also just be from having Seungcheol in handcuffs.

"You happened to interrupt my favourite hobby by almost getting arrested and making me come to your rescue." 

"If you say you were watching those fucking videos again-" he starts.

"I wouldn't have to if you didn't increase your security and make it harder for me to put up new cameras." 

"I did that so I don't have your perverted ass watching me in my private spaces!" He barks. "I swear, one day I'm going to actually choke you," 

"Do it," the sparkle in your eyes makes Seungcheol groan in frustration and tip his head back, eyes closing as he prays to a god he doesn't believe in for strength to handle you and your endless depravities. "Question," 

"What?" He sighs and lifts his head to look at you resignedly. After knowing you for so many years, he knows it's just easier to play along unless he wants to deal with you badgering him for the rest of the day. 

"Would you use your hands to choke me?" 

"What else?" 

"Your thighs-" 

"Shut up," he groans and pushes himself further upright. "Can you go a single day without making a remark about my thighs?" 

"No. Can you crush my head between them like you did that watermelon?" 

"I should've never done that. I thought playing along would make you shut the fuck up asking but no, you're even worse." 

"I appreciate art and those thighs, Choi Seungcheol are pure fucking art." 

"We have very different definitions of art," he deadpans. 

"Yes, I know," you roll your eyes. "You like silicone and spray tan," 

"Do I?" He raises an amused eyebrow at you when you look at him suspiciously.

"Every woman I've seen you fuck are more silicone than my dildo collection." 

"Not gonna comment on the collection," he mutters, looking more like he's convincing himself that his curiosity at how extensive your collection may be is not worth actually engaging you in a discussion about your sex life, which he knows heavily involves masturbating to those videos of him masturbating. 

"Do you want to see?" You offer brightly. "I have one that I think could compare to your cock," your gaze drops down to his crotch where there's an obvious bulge that you know is him flaccid. "Maybe..." you suck on your bottom lip thoughtfully as your mind runs wild with memories of the sight of his cock peeking through his fist as he chases his high. Or wrapped in rubber as he bent another woman with fake tits over his desk, or face first against a too-rough wall to take what he wants. 

You really don't know how he can claim to not have a type when you truly have only seen him actually having sex with one type of woman. You've seen him seduce and hit on a wide range of people, not even just women, but that's always to get his way and he doesn't fuck them, even if he does sometimes make out with them just to win them over.

"Stop thinking about my cock," Seungcheol deadpans, snapping you back to reality and looking up at him, though your gaze darts back down realising there's a change in the bulge. "Don't-"

"Are you getting hard?!" You gasp, shuffling onto your knees excitedly and gripping the grate. 

"No." 

"Liar," you grin, eyes sparkling. 

Seungcheol knows he's done for now; for years you've been trying to fuck him and now, now he's actually lost his usual firm grip on his own libido and let you see that he's not actually turned off by you in any way. 

"So, what's going to happen, Cheolie-" he swears at you, head tipping back to stare up at the ceiling. Of course, you ignore the interruption. "Seeing as you ruined my me-time, I'm going to come back there-" 

"And uncuff me." 

"No, silly boy," you giggle. "And ride your giant cock." 

Seungcheol curses under his breath and swallows before lifting his head to look at you.

For a few moments, you both just stare at each other. You, in wait for permission, because although you do a lot of questionable shit you'd never physically force yourself on anyone, and Seungcheol, clearly in thought.

"Get back here," he decides in a low, rough tone that makes your lower stomach twist and squeeze with genuine aroused excitement. 

"Fuck yeah," you exhale, climbing out of the car where minutes ago you parked in one of the many empty warehouses belongings to Seungcheol’s gang. 

Seungcheol watches through the window as you make short work of kicking off your shoes and removing your trousers and panties. He tries to look at you properly but that stupid fucking police uniform shirt you're wearing hangs to the top of your thighs and makes it so that he can't see shit. Not even once you've got the back door open and crawl into the backseat. 

"You got a condom?" He asks, letting out a harsh exhale when you start to palm at his cock without warning. 

"Nope," You shrug carelessly and use your free hand to open his belt before working on the button and zipper. "Got a problem with that?" 

"Fucking you raw?" You hum in confirmation and reluctantly let go of his cock so that you can yank down his jeans and boxers. Seungcheol helpfully lifts his hips off of the seat, leaning back onto his shoulders against the backrest for balance to let you get the clothing down to his knees and reveal his rapidly-hardening cock to your greedy gaze. "You may be fucking psychotic at the best of the times and fucking weirdly obsessed with me-" 

"Hey," you complain, pouting at him offendedly.

"Are you really pouting at me for calling you psychotic?" He deadpans in disbelief. He's called you worse before, much worse and you usually just giggle and act like he's given you a giant compliment. 

"What? No," you scoff and move over to straddle his thighs. "It's you saying weirdly obsessed as if you're not the single hottest person I've ever met. How dare you?"

Seungcheol licks his lips and looks down to watch at what he thought was you making a move to ride his cock like you said you would. But no, you adjust your position at the last second and sit right on his left thigh. 

"You're so fucking wet," he comments, voice thick with arousal and awe. His mouth drops open a little when you drag your slick pussy over his thigh and smear wetness over bare skin. "Fuck," 

"This is what you do to me, Cheolie," you complain and wrap your hand around his cock roughly. He groans and tips his head forward, thunking his forehead on your shoulder as you jerk him in time with the drag of your pussy up and down his thigh while he tenses it to make his muscles bulge and give you something firmer to grind your clit down on. 

It feels better than you could’ve imagined and you’ve fantasised about riding Seungcheol’s beefy thighs more times than you can count.

"You're so fucking shameless," he grunts after a moment of just watching your movements. You're torturing him with the too-rough, slow pull of your palm against his cock, never close enough to the top to catch any of the precum that's starting to dribble down the side. 

"For you, not anyone else," 

"You're going to give me a giant head," 

"It'll match your cock." 

Seungcheol huffs a laugh and lifts his head to look at you. "You gonna sit on it then?" 

"I'd love to, but you didn't actually say you're okay with not using a condom. I know you always do with those women." 

"You're not them," it's perhaps the softest fucking thing Seungcheol has ever said to you. Your movements slow to a stop as you stare at him in surprise. "I trust you with every fucking aspect of the gang, trust you to back me up more than I do anyone else. You think I'd put my life in your hands and not the health of my dick?" He scoffs. "I trust you to not do this if you have anything you could pass on and I know I sure as fuck don't." 

"And what if you knock me up?" Seungcheol raises his eyebrows at you bewilderedly, barely even noticing that you've stopped grinding on his thigh and have moved over to hover over his cock. "What?" 

Seungcheol opens his mouth to respond but you decide to drop down onto his cock, letting his thick length split you open harshly as you both moan at the sudden friction. "Fuck!" He exclaims, head tipped back and eyes screwed shut. "You-you fucking idiot," he lifts his head to look at you. "You didn't even take it slow! You could get fucking hurt!" 

"Good, I like it," you smirk, proud of yourself for getting the usually so put-together man so worked up. There's something beautifully wild in his dark eyes and a pretty pink smeared over his cheeks. 

You really wish you hadn’t left your phone in your trousers, you’d love to take a photo of him right now. You’d put it as your lock screen and he’d probably threaten to beat your ass if you don’t remove it, yet he never follows through with his threats to you.

"You're fucking crazy," 

"Yep." You grin and grind down against him, breath catching as his cock presses against multiple sensitive spots inside you that has you repeating the swirl of your hips again and again and again.

"Fu-fuck, just ride me, shit," he groans, trying to urge you to bounce by thrusting his hips up against you. 

"Don't you like this?" You pout at him, faux-offended and keep at it. You know he likes it. It's clear by the tightness of his expression; the pleasure is clear in his furrowed brows and tense jaw, shoulders pressed back against the seat and biceps bulging as he tries to free himself from the cuffs. 

You really hope he doesn't break them, you really fucking like him like this. Then again, the thought of Seungcheol using his stupidly beefy arms to break free from his binds so that he can grab your hips and force you to take the pummelling of his giant dick against your pussy walls, well that's a real fucking nice thought. 

It makes you clench down on him and he moans, head tipping back and showing you the unblemished expanse of his throat. You wonder if he'd let you bite him. 

"Can I bite you?" You ask, falling still. 

"What the fuck?" He looks at you as if you're insane. Which, not exactly a new expression on the man when he's faced with you. But this time he looks utterly offended too. 

"Is that a no?" You pout.

"I don't give a fuck, just keep going!" He demands, looking crazed. 

"Can I kiss you too?" Seungcheol rolls his eyes and instead of verbally responding he tilts forward to crash his lips to yours, desperation urging him to kiss you in such a filthy way that your pussy throbs. 

"Bounce," he growls against your lips before letting out a string of almost whispered praise when you obey and start to lift and drop yourself, finally riding his cock like both of you have been wanting for admittedly, longer than he's been in cuffs.

To your surprise, Seungcheol keeps kissing you and chases your lips every time you lean back or turn your head for breath, or just because you think he probably wants to stop and focus on your pussy dragging up and down his cock, soaking him with every wet smack of your thighs against his. 

"Che-cheol," you pant out, knotting your fingers in his head to force him back and allow you to actually breathe. He moans deeply and his eyes roll back. Very interesting reaction indeed. 

You never took Seungcheol to like having his hair pulled, but the filthy moans he lets out every time you experimentally tighten or yank on the strands now you've got the idea in your head, tell you that the man really fucking likes it. Not even mentioning how he fucks up into you harder every time too. 

"Good boy," you compliment breathlessly, looking down at his cock sliding into you as you pretty much just hover over him now, more interested in finding out what makes him tick and turns him on than actually riding him. Not that you need to when he's doing a good enough job fucking you even with his arms restrained. 

You just know he'd ruin you if he had full use of his body. He'd ruin you and you'd thank him for it and ask to repeat it every fucking day. He could break your hips and you'd thank him. 

"Oh, fuck I-I'm gonna cum," he warns making your eyes widen in alarm.

"No!" 

Seungcheol opens his eyes to look at you with equally as wide eyes yet doesn't stop fucking into you. "The fuck you mean no?" 

"You can't cum yet! I'm not done!" 

"I'm gonna-" 

"No!" 

"Fuck," his eyes roll back and he lets out a string of porn-worthy moans as he jerks up into you a few times harshly while filling you with cum. 

You can only gawp at him in disbelief, one hand still in his hair and the other braced on his heaving chest. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" You exclaim, slapping his chest as he slouches against the seat while trying to catch his breath back. "You useless man!" You pinch his nipple where it's pressing against his t-shirt making him yelp and shoot his eyes open to look at you.

"What the fuck?" 

"What kind of a gang boss are you, huh?" You berate, climbing off of him and wincing at the feel of his softening cock slipping out of you, trailing cum with it. You don't even care that it's getting all over him and the seats as you move. "To bust in minutes, you that pussy whipped, Choi Seungcheol?" You tut and shove him down on the seats. 

"Ow, you fucking-" he cuts off, awkwardly wriggling to get on his back instead of laying painfully on his right shoulder. "I'm gonna beat your ass as soon as these cuffs are off, bitch," he warns, watching you with dark eyes, half warning, half aroused, as you clamber over his body. 

"Ooh, call me more names, my likey," you wiggle your eyebrows at him as you plant your knees either side of his face. 

It visibly takes everything in Seungcheol to keep his eyes on your face and not look at your pussy that's inches from his face and dripping cum down your slick inner-thighs. "You're clinically fucking insane, aren't you?" 

"I work for you, comes with the job," you coo, leaning over to plant your left hand on the door above his head to get your balance, your right hand knotting into his hair making him let out a groan that travels through your body as your pussy meets his parted lips. "Now, make me cum like a good boy, Cheolie," 

To your utter delight, the words are barely out of your mouth before Seungcheol's tongue is dragging through your folds, uncaring that he's swallowing down his own cum as he enthusiastically starts to eat you out like a man starved.

Honestly, you've never seen Seungcheol do this. You've never known if he's the type of man to eat pussy and if so, if he does it as a means to get his dick wet or because he actually enjoys it. But now? Now you fucking know. 

Seungcheol is making more noise than you are as he greedily laps and sucks at your pussy, alternating between thrusting his tongue into your hole and suckling on your clit. You swear, the man is determined to suck your soul out through your clit, he's not gentle about it at all but you can't lie, you really fucking enjoy the rough, messy actions.

"T-that's it," you encourage when his tongue is back inside of you as deep as he can get it to lick at your inner walls greedily, nose grinding against your clit with every movement of his head and his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

His face is buried so deep between your thighs that you're positive he can't breathe but even when you loosen your hold on his hair and stop moving your hips against his face to let him have space, he dives in even deeper somehow. 

The pure unfiltered enthusiasm he devours your pussy with sends you hurtling to a powerful orgasm that takes you a bit by surprise when he gets a little too into it and his teeth drag over your skin. You didn't know you like that, but now you certainly do as you shudder and gasp over him, fingers tightening in his hair and letting the vibration of his groans and moans help ride you through as you smother him in your pussy. 

Your legs feel like jelly when you shakily clamber off of his face and drop to sit on his still exposed thighs. His cock is making a valiant effort to get hard again. It's very distracting but you're both breathing too hard and trying to remember how to get air into your lungs to even consider going for round two. Well, mostly. 

"Please tell me you have a key for these," Seungcheol says once he's caught his breath a few minutes later, still laid back with his eyes closed. 

"No," you snigger at the pissed off look he gives you as he lifts his head enough to look at you. "Since when have I needed keys to open locks?" 

"Good point," he drops back down, though immediately lifts his head again when you dance your fingers teasingly over his semi-erect dick. "Don't." 

"Why not?" You pout and wrap your hand around his cock, thumbing at the head a little harshly but he clearly likes it judging by the way he gets harder in your hold and hisses, hips pushing up automatically to encourage you.

"Because I'll fucking dislocate my shoulders," he points out, trying to roll his shoulders but not really doing a good job thanks to his forced position. "And I can't hold you down and fuck you if my arms don't fucking work, can I?" 

"You actually want to do that?" 

"Always have," he shrugs and slumps in relief when you let go of him and shuffle back. 

"No, you've never wanted to fuck me." You frown confusedly at him as he sits up with a few little grunts from the effort and release of pressure against his arms from being laid on them. 

"I've always wanted to fuck your insane ass, which I guess makes me insane too. I know you're into some fucked up shit, I've seen the porn you watch." 

"Don't kinkshame me," 

"Don't fucking use my computer to watch porn then!" 

"But your office chair is big enough that I can spread my legs comfortably on to touch myself." 

"You've masturbated in my office chair?" He deadpans, looking unimpressed. Yet when you nod in confirmation, you notice the flicker of arousal in his gaze. "Great, now I'm going to be thinking about that when I'm supposed to be working." 

"You can always call me and I'll happily sit under your desk with your cock in my mouth, keep it warm and ready to sit on when you're done working." 

"This is why I never fucking let you know." He shuffles towards the still open door, making you back out until you're standing on still slightly trembling legs. "Knew I'd never be able to stop once I had you." Seungcheol gets out of the car and turns his back to you. "Get these off me so I can bend you over and fuck you until you can't walk." 

"Don't need to tell me twice," you quickly grab your lock-picking set from your trouser pocket before kneeling down behind Seungcheol to unpick the cuffs. 

It takes you longer than it should to pick the lock because you're very distracted by his bare, plump ass right in front of your face. As soon as he moves his hands to roll his shoulders and rub his red-raw wrists, you lean forward and bite his asscheek.

"What the fuck?!" He shrieks, jolting away and turning to face you with wide eyes and red cheeks. "Did you just bite my ass?" 

"Yes," your confirmation is utterly shameless as you stare up at him from still on your knees. 

Seungcheol stares back at you for a moment, before sliding his hand into your hair and tugging you forward, smirking as your mouth opens wide to accept his cock without question or complaint. 

"Good girl," he breathes out as you immediately start to suck and lick at him, humming and making appreciative noises at having his cock in your mouth finally. It's only taken five years.

Though Seungcheol doesn't let you enjoy him as thoroughly as you'd like. As soon as his tip touches your throat at your attempt to start deepthroating him, he pulls you off and yanks you up. 

You're not given time to even complain or whine, or beg for his cock back, before he's got you with your hands on the roof of the car and chest bowing into the open doorway so that he can grind his cock against your still sopping wet pussy. 

"You never explained the knocked up comment," he informs as he crowds up against your back, one big hand holding your wrists by the edge of the roof and the other gripping your hip tight. 

"What?" 

"You said about me getting you knocked up." 

"And?" 

"We both got done, on the same fucking day, remember? We’re medically infertile," He nips at your earlobe on the harder side and grins smugly when your breath catches and you press back against his cock. 

"Never heard of a breeding kink, Cheolie?" 

"Huh, you're into that?" 

"I'm into anything if it's you." 

He pauses his movements, lips parted against your ear for a few seconds before he suddenly lets go of your hip and pulls his own back to grab his cock and lead it to your entrance. He feeds it into you just far enough that he can let go and take your hip back into his hold before he thrusts forward, burying his cock into you in one quick, hard thrust. It jolts you forward and makes you moan loudly.

"Gonna fill you up every fucking day, baby," he promises, sounding far more affected than he did moments ago. "Gonna fill you with my cum until it sticks. Gonna breed you so fucking good, yeah?" 

"Fuck, yeah, yeah, fuck me full, Cheolie," you agree, nodding madly and arching your back to push back against him while widening your stance to get him deeper, even if it means you have to push up onto your tiptoes to account for the height difference. 

"That's my good fucking girl," he approves, pushing your shirt up and holding it at your waist to give him full view of your ass as he begins to fuck into you harshly. 

Honestly, you have no idea if you're truly alone in the warehouse, you know that various gang members use the warehouses for meets and their own trysts but you do not give a single flying fuck. 

You moan loud and shameless as Seungcheol fucks all thoughts from your head. He clearly doesn't care if anyone hears either, he moans and grunts without care, growling dirty words at you that you can barely babble a response at with the quickly growing pleasure in your body. 

“Never letting anyone touch this pussy again,” he declares in amongst his moans and panting, not slowing down once in his determination to ruin you. “You’re mine, understand?” 

You nod rapidly but can’t answer as that ball of pleasure in your belly clenches so tightly at his possessive words. As soon as his palm comes down on your ass with the intention of prompting you to verbally respond, that ball bursts; sending pleasure through your whole body and making your consistent moans turn higher in pitch, babbling his name repeatedly as your pussy convulses around his still-pistoning cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, fucking into you a few more times before he slows to a gradual stop. You can feel that he’s still hard within you and whine a little, pushing your hips back against him to try and get him back to work. “You’re shaking,” he points out, pulling out and carefully helping you down onto flat feet, taking some pressure off of your thighs. You melt back against him when he winds his arms around your waist supportively and kisses your head. 

The two of you remain like that for a few minutes as you catch your breath back and your body stops shaking like a fucking leaf. 

“You okay?” He asks softly, lips trailing over your cheek and temple. It’s much too tender. You like it, yeah, but you hadn’t been prepared for the care he’s giving you. 

He has always cussed at you and called you names with disturbed expressions. You’ve never cared about that, the names and harsh words have truly never bothered you and amused you more than anything. Seungcheol has never actually hurt you even when he’s slapped you away from him or thrown items at you, he has always purposely near-missed you. His aim is too good to unintentionally miss you all the time.

But this, the fingers trailing over you mindlessly, the lips brushing against your skin and the words spoken in a fond voice you’ve never fucking heard the man use, well that’s a lot to take in.

“No,” you reply.

“Oh, what can I do? Did I hurt-” 

“You can go back to fucking me,” 

“You’re still shaking,” 

“That’s because you were doing a good job! Gold star Seungcheol!” 

“What happened to Cheolie?” 

“You don’t even fucking like it!” You groan and wriggle out of his arms with every intention of pushing him away and getting your clothes back on but he pulls you right back in, chest to chest and looks at you so devastatingly fucking adoringly your breath catches in your throat in a giant ball of what the fuck Choi Seungcheol.

“I like it,” he murmurs. “I like it because it’s you. I just…couldn’t let you know that.” 

“And now you can? You fucked me and now suddenly everything changes?” 

“You wanted things to be the same?” He frowns, hurt trickling onto his expression as his arms fall away from you. 

“I thought it was just sex,” you admit.

“Right,” he scoffs, yanking his boxers and jeans up as he steps away from you, dick sadly deflated despite being hard and pressed against your ass a minute ago. “See this is why I never fucking wanted this!” He exclaims, turning angry now as he reaches down to grab your panties and trousers to toss at you harshly. You wince when the police-issue gun and holster smack into your ribs. 

Seungcheol pauses for a split second noticing that he hurt you but then he carries on, throwing your boots at you next. You don’t even bother trying to catch them and let them collide painfully with your thighs then topple down, the hard edges of the soles sending pain through the tops of your feet.

“Why are you just fucking standing there?!” He snaps, stalking over to yank the items from your hands and get to his knees to roughly force your feet into the trousers and panties at once. 

“Seungcheol-” 

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps. For the first time, you listen to him.

A few minutes later, you’re in the passenger seat of the car as Seungcheol drives recklessly through the back streets. You don’t even have it in you to tell him to slow down because you both would get arrested and you don’t think even his lawyers could talk him out of getting locked up for driving a fake police car with fake licence plates and over the speed limits without either of you wearing seat belts.

He drives to a side street behind his apartment building and doesn’t even put the car in park, just stops it and gets out, slamming the door behind him before storming off. You take it for the harsh dismissal it is and climb over the centre console to get into the drivers’ seat to head off.

For the first time in years, you don’t see Seungcheol for days. You don’t think it’s wise to test him right now. You still don’t think he’d hurt you, but you think your presence would hurt him and you don’t want that. 

Despite what Seungcheol obviously thinks, and with good reason too because you didn’t say anything otherwise, you do care about the man. A hell of a fucking lot. 

It wasn’t instant, there wasn’t a moment where your eyes locked across the table on that set-up blind-date between you that was really both of your little groups of criminals and deviants trying to get information on the other group. You had both clocked each other and although it could’ve gone badly, Seungcheol had asked you to team up on a job and the gang was born shortly after.

Your connection was about work from day one, but spending time with the man even when he told you to fuck off when you would jokingly hit on him, it kind of really gave you a giant fucking weak spot in the shape of his stupid, charming face. 

The relentless flirting and sexual remarks, although they are all genuine, became your way to hide the truth of your feelings. Lean into lust to hide the love. It just seems that it worked too fucking well. 

You had honestly forgotten that the flutter in your stomach when your eyes meet Seungcheol’s isn’t all lust; that it isn’t just horny little demons running rampant and trying to tell you to get his cock in you, but butterflies too. Excited, pretty little butterflies flapping their wings and trying to lift you up into the clouds to where you and Seungcheol can skip merrily through the meadows together hand in hand like that scene in Shrek before the villagers chased the ogres down with pitchforks. 

But that isn’t realistic. You can’t skip hand in hand through a meadow, mostly because Seungcheol has damaged his knees from throwing himself around too much to skip anywhere, though it would be funny to watch his hobbling attempt. 

Well, at least up until a few days ago you thought it wasn’t realistic. You didn’t think Seungcheol had anything but a respect for you as one of his gang members and a good fucking one too. He often turns to you to get shit done when others have failed or if it’s too risky, too important to send others in, you’re the one he goes to. You thought that’s all your relationship equates to.

But apparently, you haven’t paid enough attention to Seungcheol to have missed the man apparently having some kind of feelings for you. 

You’re not going to assume he’s in love with you, it’s now obvious to you that he holds some kind of candle for you, but you’re not naive or hopeless enough to assume his tender touches that turned to hurt anger, to be love.

Choi Seungcheol likes you. Romantically. Sexually too. That part was great, top marks. Gold star indeed. If that’s all it had been, you’re pretty sure you’d have been spread over his desk every day since or tucked under it like you offered to cockwarm him with your mouth. That would’ve been great.

But nope, feelings. And not the touching each other up kind of ones.

All in all, it’s a giant fucking shitshow and not in the way you purposely orchestrate for your own twisted amusement. You hope things will fix themselves shortly because you don’t know how much more of this you can handle. But honestly, you really don’t think they will.

“So,” Minghao starts as he invites himself to join you in the car you’ve borrowed for the fun of it. You look at him with noodles hanging out of your mouth and wide eyes. “What the fuck did you do to piss Seungcheol off so much?” 

“Me?” You garble around your food still hanging out of your mouth and pointing at your own chest. The look the man gives you is utterly disgusted and it makes you snigger before you actually chew and swallow your food. “Why do you assume I did something to piss him off?” 

“Maybe the fact you haven’t been around in a week and every time I’ve suggested he asks for your help like we need, he pretends to have never heard of you while breaking yet another fucking pen in his fist.”

“Sounds like you need to stop getting cheap pens,” you mutter, reaching for your drink in the cup holder but he takes it. 

You watch as Minghao noisily slurps up the liquid through the straw, defiantly holding eye contact with you. But then he gags and quickly puts the cup in your awaiting hand so that he can turn, open the car door and spit the drink out onto the parking lot of the restaurant you’re parked in to enjoy your lunch. 

“What the fuck is in that?!” He shrieks when he’s done sputtering, turning to look at you with wide eyes behind his wire-framed glasses. 

“Coke,”

“That is not coke,” 

“Both kinds, and mint schnapps,” 

“I fucking hate you.” 

“Valid.” You nod and slurp at your unholy concoction. 

It wasn’t even your choice, you accidentally dropped a badly sealed baggie of the white powder into your cup when you tipped the contents of the hip flask from the glovebox into the cup. You had assumed it was whiskey or vodka or something normal, not fucking mint schnapps of all things. That’s what you get for tipping out the contents of a stolen hip flask from a stolen car into your drink without at least giving it a cursory sniff-test first. 

Minghao watches you with something like fear on his features as you don’t even flinch at the truly disgusting flavour that coats your tongue. You’ve had worse things in your mouth, you can say that much. 

Mostly thanks to Soonyoung’s own habit of shoving any food and drink into his mouth to consume like some kind of tastebud-less heathen. There’s probably a reason you’ve been friends for so long. One that doesn’t involve a bloodpact you made as idiot children that you’re both too stubborn to turn your back on first.

“So, what did you do? Ask to put something questionable in his ass?” Minghao soldiers on as he steals the unopened chocolate bar from the dashboard to open and bite into, looking very relieved at having the haunting taste of your drink covered by the sweet on his tongue. “Ask him to put something questionable in your ass?” 

“No,” you scoff, poking at your noodles with your chopsticks.

Minghao pauses in his rapid chewing to watch you consideringly. He’s never seen you like this, like you have actual human emotions beside lust and maniacal joy at making others suffer in various ways borne of your chaotic ideas. 

“It’s serious,” he realises in a mutter. You shrug and give up with your lunch, suddenly not hungry for it and pass it over to him so that you can start the car up. “What happened?” 

“What’s the job?” You ask as you drive out of the lot in a way that closes the car door he hadn’t fully closed. The slam of the door makes Minghao jolt, he had forgotten it was even open and rolls his eyes a little at you not asking him to shut it before driving off. 

“He’s dealing with it,” 

“That’s stupid if you think I should be doing it.” 

“Yeah, well, according to him, you don’t exist so he’s the best chance.” 

“If you wanted to send me in, that means it requires a delicate touch-” 

“You set a warehouse on fire last month, that’s not a delicate touch.” 

“That wasn’t for a job, that was for fun, leave me alone.” 

“You…whatever. He can handle the job, it’s just a different direction than you’d take.” 

“Has he gone in fists swinging?” 

“No. He’s seducing someone for information.” 

“Ah, dick swinging,” you mutter, feeling a sourness in your chest and rising up your throat. You’ve not felt this before when you’ve heard of Seungcheol seducing someone to get the job done. 

You haven’t even felt it when you’ve literally walked in on him balls-deep in some woman over his desk; you would just stand there until he noticed you, then annoy him by dragging out whatever it was you turned up for. It was all fun and games. This burning tickling your throat isn’t.

Jealousy is not something you’re familiar with and you immediately decide you hate it.

“You know he doesn’t…” he trails off, expression twisting as he recalls something based on his expression. “Well, usually he doesn’t fuck his marks but-” 

“What?!” You exclaim, slamming on the breaks and looking at Minghao with crazed eyes. 

Minghao yells which only grows when a car audibly swerves behind you to not rear-end you. “Fucking drive you idiot!” 

“He’s fucked the mark?” You ask, voice eerily level in a way that makes Minghao look at you and swallow thickly. 

For the first time, Minghao is genuinely scared of you. He knows you are an unhinged, unrelenting mess at the best of times and in a way, you do always scare him because he never knows what you’re going to do. You could easily hurt him or anyone but you haven’t, you’re usually too busy making sexual remarks to Seungcheol, or someone about Seungcheol, loudly enough that the man himself can clearly hear. 

And Minghao knows you’re a competent fighter, he’s seen proof of it but he’s never seen you fight yourself. He’s never seen you look so serious and pissed before either.

The carnage he’s seen the after effects of, the destruction you’ve caused, yet you’ve always had a grin on your face afterwards as if you’ve just been to an amusement park and had the time of your life splattered with blood. He knows how much damage you can cause in a good mood. So Minghao is genuinely terrified of what hell you can create when you’re in a foul mood, and right now? He thinks you would burn the world down and anyone who gets in your way.

“He-he hasn’t but he said he will if he needs to.” 

“Where is he?” 

The apartment you let yourself into is familiar and really not where you expected to end up when Minghao had given you his phone to let you use the app he and Seungcheol use to track each other. You hadn’t known about this app and you can only assume Seungcheol had made sure you didn’t know so that you couldn’t use it to stalk him. Which…valid worry. You definitely would’ve stalked him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You demand as you step into the living room and find Seungcheol slouched on the couch with a glass of whiskey in one hand, the bottle in the other and balanced on his thick thigh. 

“This is my home,” he points out. “The fuck are you doing here?” 

“Where is she?” You ask, peering around before inviting yourself to walk through the apartment, slamming open doors to rooms as you go in search of the woman Seungcheol was seducing for information. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He retorts, following after you once he’s put the glass and bottle down on the coffee table. “Who?” 

“The mark, Hao said you were planning to fuck her for information.” 

“And you thought I’d bring her here?” 

“Well how the fuck should I know?!” You turn to face him. “You don’t fuck your marks, Seungcheol! But you were going to, or have…” You eye him over, black shirt unbuttoned to his chest tucked into black trousers that show off his thick thighs and plump ass. Trousers you’ve told him you hold he never stops wearing, and then he promptly did stop to your disappointment. At least you thought he had. 

“I didn’t,” he replies, shoving his hands into his pockets after they twitch at his sides.

“No?” You lift your gaze up to meet his eyes, or at least try to but he’s pointedly looking at the wall beside your left shoulder. “Did you get what you needed without fucking her?” 

“No,” he admits and tenses his jaw a few times.

“Then what?” 

“I don’t want to fuck her! I thought I could do it but I can’t.” He huffs and turns to storm back to the living room. Of course, you follow and watch as he downs the contents of his glass before pouring out more. 

“Why did you suddenly think you could when you’ve never wanted to fuck for a job? You said that to me before, that you don’t ever want to fuck for work.” 

“Because…it doesn’t fucking matter,”

“Obviously it does.” You walk over and take the glass from him after he’s swallowed down the contents again. “This isn’t you, Seungcheol. I’m the one who drinks at 1pm, not you.” 

“Well maybe I should be allowed to be the fucked up asshole for once, huh?” He stares down at you darkly. “Why are you allowed to be a fuck up and I can’t?” 

“Because you’re better than me, you always have been.” You pick up the bottle and turn to take it to the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologises as he follows you. “I don’t mean that, you’re not a fuck up.” 

“I am, you know it, I know it, everyone knows it, Seungcheol so-” 

“Please stop calling me that,” he breathes out. 

You finish putting the lid on the bottle and put it in the liquor cabinet before putting the dirty glass in the dishwasher, and then you turn to look at him while leaning back against the counter behind you with your arms crossed loosely over your chest. 

He looks…sad. You hate it.

“That’s your name, that’s what everyone calls you. That’s what you’ve been trying to get me to call you for years.” 

“And you never fucking listened. Can’t…can’t we go back to that?” 

“I don’t know, can we?” 

Seungcheol does nothing but look at you for what feels like more than enough time for him to come to a definite answer hours ago. But he just keeps looking at you with those giant sad fucking eyes and his fingers gripping the edge of the island counter in front of him as if he needs to hold on to something and what he wants to hold isn’t in reach. 

“I can try,” he offers. “Can you?” 

“I’m not the one who has been denying the other’s existence,” 

“You’re not the one who got their heart broken,” he retorts sharply before taking a deep breath as he closes his eyes. A clear sign of trying to calm himself. “No, I can’t, I can’t do this,” he decides, opening his eyes to land them back on you. “You need to leave.” 

“For how long?” 

“This is my apartment-” 

“That’s not what I meant,” you uncross your arms and walk the few steps to the island in front of you, on Seungcheol’s adjacent right and close enough that either of you could easily reach out and touch. Neither of you do. “I’ll leave your apartment, I won’t argue about leaving now. But I need to know if this is the end of everything, Seungcheol. The past five years of working together, does it end now?” 

“Is that all you care about? The fucking gang? Not our relationship? But the fucking gang?” 

“That is our relationship,” you give him a bewildered look. “Before last week there’s never been anything but the gang.” 

“You’re serious,” he mutters in disbelief. 

“Well, yeah,”

“Get out.” 

“That doesn’t answer-” 

“Are you seriously that fucking stupid?!” He snaps, poking his own head. “You got nothing going on up here past work, huh?” 

You just stare at him, not sure how to respond because admittedly, the things he’s been saying to you today have been hurting. Five years of insults and degrading names hasn’t once bothered you. But he’s never said hurtful things like this before.

“How Soonyoung has put up with you for so fucking long is beyond me.” He scoffs and steps back, away from you with a nasty expression on his face, eyes dark and cold in a way he has never looked at you. “He must be as fucking stupid as you.” 

“Don’t you dare talk about him like that,” you warn, your own expression turning hard in defence of your best friend. “Say whatever you want about me but do not say a bad word against him.” 

“Why not? Hurt your feelings?” He taunts. “Didn’t know you have those. Sure fucking fooled me.” 

“Of course I have feelings, you dick, some of us just know how to keep them to ourselves and not let them rule our mouths.” 

“Well you’ve kept yours really fucking close, great fucking job there. Gold fucking star. You’ve kept to yourself so much nobody knows shit about how you feel. I thought I did but obviously I was fucking wrong.” He turns to walk off yet turns back around and stalks right back to lean his palms on the counter and stare intently at you. “Just tell me this, did I ever mean fucking anything to you? Did you ever even think of me as a friend? I thought you did but you’ve dismissed this so fucking easily, you’re so fucking willing to walk away and only ask about the gang that I’m pretty sure I’ve been a naive fucking idiot this whole time.” 

“Friends?” You mumble in surprise because honestly, you’ve never thought of Seungcheol as your friend. You’ve never tried to name what he is to you but you’re not sure you could if you tried. 

Soonyoung is your friend, even Minghao you’d consider a friend. But Seungcheol? Perhaps at one point you could’ve thought of him in such a way but now you’ve been pushing down your true feelings for him for so long that you don’t even know how to classify him. Friend doesn’t feel right. 

“Yes, friends, you know, people you like being around, people you can talk to about stuff other than work, get a drink with and have fun with.” 

“Have we ever done any of that?” You genuinely wonder quietly. 

You watch as the realisation dawns on Seungcheol and his anger melts into something pained. “No,” he admits quietly. “We haven’t.”

“Well, I guess there’s the answer,” you mumble, chest aching at what you know this means. That you and Seungcheol have never truly had a relationship of any kind outside of work. You’ve never realised that before, never before had to consider what that means. You wish you had, maybe then things now would be different.

“Right,” he huffs a humourless laugh as he backs up, eyes looking anywhere but you even as he turns. “Show yourself out and don’t…don’t come back.” 

You can’t be certain, he talks too quietly and moves out of the kitchen and down the hall too quickly, but you think you catch the glint of tears on his cheeks.

Weeks pass as you go about your life, as you try to make a new life without Seungcheol or his gang playing such a pivotal part in it. You listened to his wishes, you left and didn’t return, you deleted his number and told Minghao it’s probably wise if he tells everyone that you’ve left the gang and won’t return; and then you deleted and blocked all of their numbers too once they started calling and texting to ask what the fuck happened.

Soonyoung didn’t know what happened at first, but he loyally left the gang too and then you both decided to just get new numbers to avoid the hassle of blocking everyone you’ve ever known in relation to the gang.

And then they started to turn up at your apartments so you packed up and left the city and Soonyoung still didn’t ask what happened. 

Of course, you did tell him though. You told him everything that happened with you and Seungcheol and had to talk Soonyoung down from driving back to the city to try and beat up Seungcheol for the things he said to you in his apartment. 

Try being the keyword, because although Soonyoung is more than a competent fighter and plenty strong enough, one of Seungcheol’s biceps is likely bigger than Soonyoung’s head. 

But Soonyoung did calm enough to slap you around the head and call you an idiot for not telling Seungcheol the truth about your feelings when the man was clearly trying to start a relationship with you after fucking you dumb. You argue that the man had just fucked you dumb so your brain wasn’t working. Soonyoung said your brain doesn’t work full stop. Which…is kind of valid, at least where human relationships are involved.

And that leads us to your new life with your best friend in another town a two hour drive from the city and where Soonyoung has already made friends with a man who it took Soonyoung a worryingly long time to realise is a hooker. 

You quite like his new friend and like to play bodyguard with Soonyoung when Junhui dresses up in expensive clothes to bag expensive clients his pimp sends him to meet. Junhui loves it too; having the two of you dressed up in suits and following behind him to keep him safe. He doesn’t even mind that you both stay at the edge of the room when he gets to work.

“This guy is a friend of Jeonghan’s,” Junhui explains from the backseat of the fancy car you can proudly say you didn’t even steal. Soonyoung stole it. You’re so proud of him. 

“Which is why daddy Hannie is joining,” Soonyoung hums in understanding, nodding his head and almost hitting a lamppost before swerving at the last second after peering over the top of his dark sunglasses. 

“Remove the fucking glasses, Soonyoung,” Jeonghan, Junhui’s pimp, sighs from Junhui’s right with both hands gripping the leather seats under him. Which is very understandable. “And please stop lying to me that you have your driver’s licence.”

“Told you it’s obvious,” you mutter to your best friend who slaps your tit as he childishly mocks you. So you backhand him in the dick making him groan and double over, one hand over his crotch and his other arm hugging the steering wheel he’s leaning his chest against while biting the top of it in pain. 

Junhui sniggers at the antics between you and your best friend, as amused as he ever is by you two. While Jeonghan, not for the first time, wonders what kind of circus Junhui found the pair of you in and if they’d take you back.

“So, what’s the deal with this dude?” You ask a few minutes later when Soonyoung parks over three spaces in the hotel parking lot and Junhui cheers at Soonyoung remembering to apply the breaks in time for once. 

“He’s an old friend in town for business and wants to sweeten the guy he’s meeting tonight, so he asked me to bring my best.” Jeonghan replies while checking he has everything in his pockets by patting his clothing down thoroughly. 

“Aw, Junnie, you’re daddy’s best,” Soonyoung coos, grinning over at Junhui who preens proudly. 

“I don’t remember giving you permission to call me daddy, Soonyoung. I said that to her, not you.” The pimp points out as you all get out of the car. 

“What’s hers is mine and mine is hers,” your best friend replies airily. 

“You’re married?” 

“What? Ew, gross, no,” Soonyoung retches and then stumbles when you shove him. He collides with the wall of the hotel making you snort a laugh, until he turns and you notice his glasses are broken and can see his unimpressed glare through the missing section of the lens. “I just got these!” He exclaims, taking off the sunglasses and tosses them into the bushes. 

“I’ll get you another pair,” 

“Better do. I want Gucci ones,” 

“I’ll see what I can do,” 

When Jeonghan looks over at the pair of you in the elevator up to the penthouse suite, he has to do a double take at the Gucci sunglasses perched on Soonyoung’s nose. “Where did you get those?” Soonyoung points at you. Jeonghan gives you a flat look. “Well?” 

“They were just sitting there,” you shrug. 

“Where?” 

You stare back at Jeonghan, making your expression innocent knowing how much Jeonghan hates it when you pickpocket people for the fun of it. “Some guy’s head,” 

“You stole sunglasses while someone was wearing them?” 

“It was really impressive,” Soonyoung nods, entirely missing the point of Jeonghan’s gawping. “Jun’s really good at distracting, they make a good team.” 

“You fucking helped?” Jeonghan gawps at Junhui who just smiles sweetly at his pimp. “I’m banning you from hanging out with them.” 

“You’re my daddy not my father,” Junhui scoffs. 

Jeonghan clearly wants to argue more but the ding echoes in the metal box signalling you’ve arrived at the suite, so he just takes a breath and schools his expression in an impressively short time while the doors open. 

Then you four step out into the little lobby before the suite entrance doors and you swear, recognising the suited men standing guard outside of the suite. 

“Oh, fuck,” Soonyoung whispers. 

“You assholes!” One of the men exclaims, stalking over to flying-kick Soonyoung in the back of his thigh. “You fucking ghosted us!” 

“Ow, ow, Kwan, stop it!” Soonyoung cries out, trying to stop Seungkwan’s furious kicks and slaps. “I need my legs to protect my slut!” 

“Hey!” Junhui exclaims and slaps Soonyoung too. “I am not yours.” 

“Ow, attack her!” Soonyoung tries to shove Seungkwan over to you but he takes one look at you and shrinks back before going back to hitting Soonyoung while hissing that you scare him too much to try to hit. 

“Were you part of the gang?” Jeonghan asks, looking at you. 

“You could say that,” you murmur and look over to the grand double doors then back to him. “You’re meeting Seungcheol?” 

“Yes,” 

“We shouldn’t be there, me especially.” 

“Do you owe him money?” 

“No, nothing like that we just…aren’t on good terms, I guess you could say.” 

“Yeah, what happened anyway?” Seungkwan wonders, suddenly at your side and linking his arm with yours. “What’s the gossip?” 

“I assume you enjoy having the use of your hands,” you speak, raising an eyebrow at Seungkwan who backs away with his hands held up in surrender. “Good boy.” 

“How much issue would it cause to take you in there?” Jeonghan asks, looking between you, Soonyoung, Junhui and his watch then the doors and back again.

“Oh, a shit ton,” Soonyoung answers with a hum. “We moved two hours away for a reason,” he face falls and he looks at you with a sad pout. “Do we have to move again now that they know where we live?” 

“No!” Junhui whines, wrapping his arms around you. “You have to stay. You’re my bodyguards! I feel so much safer with you watching over me and I like having you watch too!” 

“You can discuss this later, we need to meet Seungcheol before he gets sulky at us for being late,” Jeonghan sighs, tugging Junhui to his side. “You two wait out here. I’ll have to discuss this with Seungcheol to see if he will be against you doing what I fucking pay you for.” 

“You pay us?” Soonyoung mutters confusedly while you just nod at Jeonghan in agreement so he and Junhui go into the room. “He pays us?” 

It all goes a lot better than you expect. You don’t even need to be in the same room as Seungcheol and, in fact, you don’t even see him until 3 am the next morning when you’re pulling him off of the man he was supposed to be making a business contract with but apparently, Seungcheol found it necessary to beat the shit out of him in the hotel lobby.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask once you’ve got Seungcheol outside and around the side of the building. He’s seething, blood smeared over his hands and splattered on his face. “You were supposed to be making an ally and I thought it was going well! What the fuck happened?!” 

“You! It’s always fucking you!” Seungcheol turns to you and puts a hand on your upper chest to roughly pin you against the wall. You let him. “It was going well until he fucking- why are you even here? You’re not a bodyguard!” 

“Yes I am,” you frown. “I’m here to keep Junhui safe and I’m good at it.” 

“Not in the eyes of assholes like that. You’re just more eye candy bastards like him think they can have. “

“Is that why you beat the shit out of him and ruined the past hours of work? Because he said some remarks about me?” You scoff. “I can handle that, Seungcheol, I-” You cut off when his hand is suddenly at your throat. He’s not squeezing or applying any pressure but it’s a solid warning that he could. 

You should probably be scared, but you’re not, even if the man looks utterly psychotic with blood smeared over him and wide eyes staring down at you. It’s probably really fucked up how hot you find it. 

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he growls, crowding you further against the wall, getting so close that his thick thigh slots between yours and his left forearm leans on the wall above your head. “What’s my name?” You raise your eyebrow. “Well?” 

“Seungcheol,” your defiant response has his fingers curling around your throat and starting to cut off your air flow. It just makes your excitement grow and show in the sparkle of your eyes. 

“Try that again,” he warns in a murmur, moving even closer and pressing his thigh up against your crotch. “Go on,” 

“Seungcheol,” 

“Bitch,” and then he’s kissing you with the same desperation he first kissed you. His hold is firm around your throat and his thigh is already rubbing against you in a way that has you grinding down while gripping his waist in one hand and hip in the other over those fucking trousers that drive you insane. Well, more insane than you already are where Choi Seungcheol is involved.

“Uh,” of course, of fucking course it’s Soonyoung who interrupts you, making you both look at him with matching pissed off expressions. “We should go, that dude is getting taken to the hospital and the hotel is willing to look the other way thanks to Hannie, provided we all leave and you never show your face again here. Hannie and Jun have already gone.” 

“She’s coming with me,” Seungcheol informs. “You go.” 

“Can’t. Daddy’s banned me from driving,” 

“Then fucking walk, Soonyoung.”

“We live so far away,” Soonyoung whines. 

“I’m going to break his face if he doesn’t leave right fucking now,” Seungcheol warns as he looks at you. 

“Just drive, daddy’s gone,” you point out with a shrug. 

“Good point.” Soonyoung nods then turns and walks off just like that without another word or complaint. 

You hope he won’t crash on the way home or forget that he’s driving a stolen car meaning that he shouldn’t take it to your shared apartment. But you can never be too sure with Soonyoung. Oh well, he already knows you won’t visit him in jail, just like he wouldn’t you. Your bloodpact never said anything about prison after all. 

“This is stupid,” Minghao mutters, glancing over to where Seungcheol has a possessive arm around you in the lift of the hotel they’re staying in for the night, a much less fancy one than the meeting happened in. “You told her to leave and now you’ve fucking glued yourself to her and lost a lucrative deal to defend her honour or some bullshit.” 

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Seungcheol retorts, giving Minghao a look that his right hand just rolls his eyes at.

“Whatever, just don’t expect me to walk on eggshells around you anymore. You’re hurting yourself here and you know it.” 

“I’m the one who’s going to get choked,” you point out earning a disgusted look from Minghao. “What? I know you’re into choking, don’t look at me like that.” 

“How do you know what he’s into?” Seungcheol asks, looking between you. 

“How do you not know?” You scoff, looking at Seungcheol as if he’s the weird one. 

“Because I’ve never had sex with him,” 

“Neither have I.”

“Or watched him have sex,” 

“I haven’t…okay once or twice…maybe thrice…” Your expression twists thoughtfully as you try to recall every instance where you’ve watched Minghao have sex, intentionally or not. 

“What the fuck?!” Seungcheol glares at Minghao who holds up his hands placatingly.

“She’s a voyeur and I’m an exhibitionist, it just made sense when it happened. She usually walked in anyway. You know she has no sense of personal boundaries and invites herself wherever the fuck she wants to go.” 

“You should’ve stopped!” 

“You never did,” you point out and push away from the wall when the doors open and let the three of you enter the corridor. “You never stopped when I walked in on you.” 

“That’s different.” 

“How? Sex is sex.” 

“Right.” 

“And I’m leaving, quickly,” Minghao informs and all but runs down the hallway ahead of you two to get to his room. 

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything until you’re both in his hotel room en suite and he’s leaning back against the sink counter while you clean his split knuckles for him. “Is sex really just sex to you?” 

“What else would it be?” 

“It means nothing?” 

“Is it supposed to?” You raise an eyebrow at him when you lift your head to meet his gaze. He’s got that sad puppy look again that twists your heart painfully. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like…” you sigh and focus back on his hand. “Why did you kiss me, Seungcheol?” 

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you and I don’t want you to leave.” 

“And that means choking and kissing me?” 

“That’s what you want from me, right? Sex? Just meaningless fucking.” 

“No,” 

“Oh.” You don’t need to be looking at Seungcheol to know his expression has fallen further into depths that would drag painful claws across your pitiful little heart if you witness it. “You don’t want me anymore?” 

“I didn’t say that,” 

“Then what are you saying? I don’t know how to fucking read you, you know? I need you to talk to me. Every time I try to have an honest fucking conversation with you about this you just stare at me and break my heart without even saying a word, at least have the fucking balls to do it verbally this time.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you, it hurts me too, seeing you with that fucking kicked puppy dog look.” You give up cleaning his hand and toss the blood stained cloth into the sink to step back with your hands on your hips. “And I don’t say anything because I don’t know what to say. I’m fucking…emotionally incompetent!” 

“What?” 

“I don’t know, that’s what Soonyoung called me when I explained all this to him.” 

“Emotionally incompetent?” You nod. “Why did he call you that? I mean, he’s probably right but he’s usually the first to defend you, so for him to call you that means you fucked up.” 

“I hurt you, of course I fucked up.” 

“Not returning my feelings doesn’t mean-” 

“Cheol,” he immediately cuts off, eyes rounding out at the nickname you haven’t called him in so long. Granted, you haven’t seen him to call him anything in so long but the point still stands. “When did I actually say I don’t have feelings for you?” 

“You said we’re not even friends.” 

“We’re not, we might’ve been at one point years ago but…I can’t think of you like that. You…” you sigh and drop your arms to your sides. “You mean too much to me. I don’t know how to put any of it into words and I was too shocked that day at the warehouse to say anything. And then you got pissed off and threw shit at me and I just didn’t know how to navigate that. It was a lot.” 

“You didn’t even show your face after,” he pretty much whispers, hands gripping the counter either side of his hips to try and ground himself. It reminds you of the day in his kitchen, the last day you saw him, when he was holding the island so tightly to stop himself from reaching for you. “You could’ve come to me and explained and then we could’ve…things would be different.” 

“I thought giving you space would be best. I didn’t want to make you worse. I thought that space would help but Hao found me and said you were denying my fucking existance and planning to fuck a mark and obviously you weren’t any better with the space.” 

“I was a fucking wreck. I can’t do this, I can’t not have you there turning up to make remarks about my thighs or ass or whatever. I need you there by my side so come back, please.” 

“Just like that? I come back and things go back to how they were?” 

“No. You come back and we figure out what works for us.” 

“Sex works great, that was good.”

He chuckles and nods a little in agreement. “It was and I’d really fucking love to do that more, I’m sure you’ve probably got an endless list of fucked up shit you want to do to me.” 

“Oh, hell yeah I do,” you confirm, eyes widening as you think of your endless fantasies involving the man in front of you. “How do you feel about taxidermy?” 

“We’re not involving taxidermy into our sex life, no fucking way,” he replies firmly. “That’s a hard fucking no, you keep that in your freaky head.” 

“Noted. What about anal?” 

“You went from taxidermy to anal how exactly?” 

“Stuffing,” 

Seungcheol tries not to laugh but breaks into an amused smile and motions for you to get closer. “You’re seriously insane, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, we discovered this years ago, Cheolie,” 

“Mm,” he slides his hands onto your hips as he smiles at you in a soft kind of way that makes your heart race. 

“Cheol?” He hums. “Is…I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you for years.” 

Seungcheol’s eyes widen in surprise before they soften back out and he takes a gentle hold of your face and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips. “I love you too,” 

“Oh, really?” He nods and you grin happily at him. “That’s cool. We should get married or something.” 

“Fucking hell, you can’t just spring that on me,” he groans, hiding his blushing face into your neck as his arms wind around your waist to hold you close.

“But we’re in love, we love each other, why should we wait?” You’re genuinely confused and it makes him chuckle a little. “I’m serious, Cheol! Why should we wait to get married if that’s what’s going to happen anyway?”

“Alright, baby, let’s get married,” he agrees, straightening up, beaming at you so happily that you can’t help but smile back at him. “We’ll start arranging it as soon as we’re home, hm? But for now-” 

“Sex, lots of sex,” you finish for him. 

“I was going to say let’s sleep but you’re right, who even needs sleep?” He hoists you up with a cheeky grin while you giggle and wrap your arms and legs around him to make it easier for him to take you into the bedroom. 

“You didn’t answer me about anal,” 

“I don’t have anal lube, babe,” he chuckles, laying you down onto the bed and climbing between your thighs while removing his shirt.

“I don’t have a dildo or strap either,” you pout at the reminder.

“Wait, you meant my ass?” 

“Yeah, I really want to fuck your ass, it’s made to be fucked.” 

“Uh, I’ll consider it.” 

“Okay.” You reach out to pull him back down and slot your lips together shortly. “Now, you owe me,” 

“What, why?” 

“You said you were going to fuck me until I can’t walk and that never happened.” 

“Because you let me think you don’t want me for more than just sex!” 

“All I’m hearing is excuses and not enough action to put your cock in me,” 

“Yeah yeah, get naked.” He slaps your thigh a few times in encouragement while leaning back on his knees to unbuckle his belt. 

You make zero effort to move at all, except to prop yourself up on your elbows and watch intently as he slowly unbuttons his belt.

“Are you seriously just going to watch me strip?” He asks while teasingly dragging his fingers along his skin along the edge of his waistband with a cocky smirk once his belt is open.

“Dance for me, pretty boy,”

Seungcheol puts his hands on his hips and waits until you’ve dragged your gaze up from staring at the outline of his cock, over his bare torso and to his face. He’s raising an eyebrow at you. “Did you just call me pretty boy?” 

“Yes,” 

“Fucking crazy,” he huffs a short laugh.

“Hey!” You lean up just enough to slap his thigh scoldingly then sit up so that you can grope at his thighs with both hands while he just watches with an amused, fond little smile at your utterly shameless actions. “You are pretty, my pretty boy,” 

“Mm, I can accept that,” he agrees, holding your jaw with one hand firmly to tilt you up as he leans in to brush his lips over yours teasingly. “So long as I’m your pretty boy, I don’t mind being called that. So long as I’m yours, you can call me anything.” 

“Okay, sugarplum.” You cackle at the world-weary sigh that Seungcheol lets out against your lips before he leans back to look at you unimpressed. “What’s the matter, pookie?” 

“Why did you have to ruin the mood?” 

“I ruined the mood?” You smirk and slide one hand up his thigh to grip his cock firmly, making him hiss through his teeth at the sudden, tight pressure. “Feels like you’re still in the mood to me, pretty boy.” 

“I really must be insane,” 

“We match well then, huh?” 

“Mm,” he leans down to kiss you shortly. “Good thing we’re never having kids, they’d be sectioned before they reach adulthood.” 

“Our neighbours would hate us,” 

“They would,” he chuckles. “We’ll find somewhere new to live together once we’re married, away from noisy ass neighbours, and with a garden so I can fuck you outside and see how gorgeous you’ll look with the sun shining on you when you’re covered in my cum.” 

“There’s a park down the road,” 

“No,” he scoffs and shoves you back to make you lay down before his hands move to roughly yank his belt free. “You’re mine, I’m not letting anyone else see you like that.” 

“Even knowing they can look but not touch?” 

“Maybe once I’ve covered you in marks and made up for the past five years of not being able to fuck you.” 

“Sounds like a party,” you grin, and then wiggle excitedly as he taps the folded middle of his leather belt against your inner thigh. “That’d leave pretty marks.” 

“Mm, it would, you need to be naked for that though, baby,”

“You need to dance for me first,” you remind matter-of-factly before lacing your fingers together behind your head comfortably. 

“You really want me to dance for you?” 

“I’ve dreamed about you giving me a strip tease, don’t kill my boner, Cheolie.” 

“You’re going to kill my boner if you keep saying shit like this.” 

“Guess we need to invest in some gags,” 

“Guess we do,” he murmurs and licks his lips automatically at the thought of your lips stretched around a gag and drool running down your chin as you moan for him. “I’ll give you a strip tease another day, I need to fuck you too much.” 

“Promise?” 

“I promise, baby,” 

“Okay.” You sit up and get to work, quickly stripping off your clothes so Seungcheol climbs off of the bed to force his fitted trousers off of his body along with his boxers.

When he kneels back on the bed naked, he finds you already laid there utterly nude with legs spread in wait for him to join you.

“How the fuck did you strip so fast?” He gawps, running his hands reverently over your thighs as he settles between them on his knees. 

“Years of practise,” 

“Stripping?” 

“Had to be prepared for the day you give in to my seduction.” 

“Well…good job,” he leans down over you, hands propping himself on the mattress so that he can kiss you. 

“Thank you,” you preen and run your hands up his sides to take the chance to touch as much of his strong torso as you can for the first time. You can’t fucking wait to spend the rest of your life touching him up. It’s going to be great. “Now, cock please,” 

Seungcheol chokes on a short laugh at your words. “Good use of manners, sweetheart,” 

“I thought so too. Definitely deserves a reward,” 

“Mm,” he shuffles down a little so that he can wrap his full lips around your left nipple and suck harshly, intent on starting his plan to cover you in hickies and hand prints to mark his property. 

“That’ll work,” you mutter, lacing fingers in his hair to encourage his mouth against your breast. “Not cock but it’ll do for now.” 

“Shut up,” he laughs against your skin. 

“Make me,” 

“Brat,” 

“You like it,” 

“I do,” he sighs before moving one hand over your chest and throat until he can press against your parted lips. There’s no resistance at all, your jaw dropping enough to allow his middle and ring finger to slide into your mouth. “Good fucking girl,” Seungcheol praises in a low, rough voice as you instantly start to suck at his fingers, swirling your tongue around and between them with happy little moans. 

Seungcheol keeps his mouth against your body, sucking and biting violent looking marks into your skin until he’s satisfied with his artwork. He moves down, dragging the fingers from your mouth as he does, smearing your own saliva in a trail all the way until he’s laid on his stomach between your thighs and attaching his mouth to your clit in the same moment he pushes those two wet fingers into you. 

“Cheol,” you breathe out, pushing down against his fingers so that he doesn’t even dare think of waiting. He hums against your clit, making your thighs tighten momentarily before he starts to work his fingers in rapid movements that make your eyes flutter and fingers grip at him. 

As your nails drag over his shoulder lightly, Seungcheol moans and arches up towards your hand, urging you on, encouraging you to grasp at him. Dig your nails in until he hisses and fucks his fingers into you harder and faster. 

“H-how much can you take?” He asks, leaning up on his free hand, mouth and chin smeared with your arousal. 

“Anything,” you promise, feeling as desperate as the wild darkness in his eyes tells you he feels. 

Seungcheol nods and pulls his fingers from you as he moves up onto his knees. He doesn’t even ask you to move, just grabs you and manhandles you onto your front, chest against the mattress and hips up just enough to give him a better angle to begin sliding his thick cock into you. 

Maybe you hadn’t been quite as ready as you could’ve been. As you perhaps should’ve been. It’s been a while since you put anything but your fingers in your pussy for a quick session since moving away from the city.

Living with your nosey ass best friend doesn’t give you the freedom to get your toys out as he seems to have the uncanny ability of popping up and making a big deal out of it. Lots of screaming and acting like he’s been visually assaulted. You do the same to him. Your relationship is full of a lot of love and mutual, mature respect, clearly.

It’s a tight fit and Seungcheol grips your hips tight as he painstakingly splits you open with his mouth parted and eyebrows furrowed as if in pain. Not that you can see. Or have the mental capacity to do anything but grip the pillow and almost suffocate yourself in it with the way you press your open mouth against the material. 

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he pants when he stops before he’s even buried his entire length in you. “Baby, I don’t-I don’t know if this is a good idea, fuck,” 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you warn, turning your head to glare over your shoulder at him while reaching back to grab his ass and stop him from pulling out like he starts to. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” 

“Then I’ll do it,” you huff and push yourself up onto your hands. Admittedly, shaky hands but you’re too focused on your task to care. Too stubborn and desperate to get obliterated by his cock. 

“Babe-” 

“Shut the fuck up, Choi Seungchol,” you demand, pushing yourself back harsh enough that he flails and drops down onto his haunches as he swears, hands still gripping you though. His mouth says one thing and his body another. 

It’s a task getting your body upright until you’re on your knees, hands free to hold onto his forearm and thigh but when you do, you only take a moment to stop the spinning of your mind before you start to bounce on his cock. 

“Fuck,” he groans, spreading his thighs a little wider and rolling his hips in time with your bouncing. He’s not thrusting but his minute movements help to open you up a little more with every slap of your skin against his. 

This position isn’t very practical for you, not with Seungcheol. Not when it makes his cock feel even bigger than it actually is and your whole body trembles as it presses and drags against your walls in ways that feel like utter sin. You’re dripping all over him, ruining the bed and you don’t even care. Neither does he. 

“Your turn,” you murmur, falling still on his lap as you lean back against his chest to catch your breath at least a little and give your burning thighs a break. It’s a lot more work to ride him like that than you expected. You’ll have to take up a new workout routine so that you can do it for longer next time. You’re determined.

Seungcheol takes the moment of calm stillness to brush his lips over your shoulder and let his hands explore over your chest and spread-thighs. 

One of his hands trails between your legs to feel at where your pussy is spread around his cock. He makes a low, pleased sound before abruptly rubbing quick harsh circles over your clit. You shriek in surprise, body tensing at the sudden attack and nails digging into the skin of his thighs under your own.

“You gotta cum first,” he informs, stopping his circles for only a second to bring his hand back then down, landing a firm slap to your clit and making your body jerk as you moan brokenly. “That’s my dirty girl, fucking knew you’d like this,” his tone is nothing but aroused and approving as he slaps your clit again while holding you in place with his other arm wrapped securely around your waist with his hand on your chest. “You’re gonna cum like this, understand?” 

“Cheol-” 

“I said, do you understand?” Another slap, this one harsher in a toe-curling way, before he drags his palm and fingers over your clit in a way that could be considered almost soothing if he wasn’t pressing as firmly as he is. 

“Fuck, y-yeah. Don’t stop.” You agree, nodding where your head is tilted back against his shoulder. “But,” 

“What?” You don’t answer verbally and instead grip his left wrist to pull his hand up from your chest and to your throat. “I fucking love you,” he declares before squeezing your throat at the same time as he sucks on the side of your neck to create a new claim, his right hand moving to slap your clit in rapid succession. 

It’s only a few seconds of the combination, the intense pleasure from all melding together and sending a sharp orgasm through your body. Your body moves naturally as if trying to fight it and get away as you gasp for air you can’t get yet. Your nails drag deep red marks over his skin that only encourages him to fuck up into your convulsing walls. 

“Good, good,” he breathes against your neck and drops his palm from your throat back to your chest, both so that you can breathe clearly and so that he can hold you to him. He doesn’t stop playing with your clit though, his hips humping up into you and barely moving his cock but it’s still almost too much stimulation. 

The first orgasm is barely even over before another rocks through your body. 

This time, Seungcheol removes his hand from your clit, giving you some respite and murmurs praise against your shoulder the entire time it takes you to come down from the combination of both climaxes.

“You okay?” He asks gently when you turn your head to blink your eyes open and peer at him. You hum and nod, giving him a dopey, sated smile that makes him laugh. “Can you take more?” 

“Whatever you’ve got,” comes your confident response. 

“That’s my girl,” he smirks, looking nothing but proud of you and your pussy for being able to handle his thick cock. You’d puff like a peacock if, you know, you weren’t human.

Seungcheol takes a moment to just kiss you, lips and tongue meeting languidly as best as you both can considering the angle. You personally think it works very well and you’d give you both top marks.

And then he pushes you down against the mattress, one hand on the back of your neck to keep your cheek smushed against the pillow and his other hand holding your hip firmly to fuck into you in a brutal manner.

The headboard knocks harshly against the wall with every powerful stroke of his hips. The back of your thighs and ass are already starting to sting with the strength of his thrusts. His fingers bruise marks into your hip and neck as he hold you securely in place and forces you to just fucking take it. 

And you’re in heaven.

If you weren’t in love with the man before, you sure as fuck are now.

Nobody has ever fucked you like this. Nobody has handled you so well in every way. And you just know with everything in you that nobody else ever will. 

You’re definitely gonna marry the fuck out of Choi Seungcheol.

It doesn’t last much longer really, not that you can really blame Seungcheol considering he sat there and felt your pussy squeeze and cream over his cock twice already; and now he’s battering your walls so perfectly in a way that borders on pain in the most delicious of ways so you’re squeezing him all over again in minutes and almost screaming into the pillow as he forces another strong climax from your body.

You don’t even have the mental clarity to realise he’s stopped, his hips juddering against you as he cums as deep in you as possible with a string of low, rough moans with your name sprinkled in. 

“Oh, fuck,” you grunt when he lowers your hips to the mattress without pulling out just so that he can almost flatten you under his own body weight. You know he’s not entirely laid on you, you can feel the bulge of his biceps against your upper arms as he holds himself up just enough to not squish you.

“Shut up, you said you can take anything I give you,” he reminds in between pressing sweet, lingering kisses to your neck. 

“Meant your giant cock, not giant ass.” 

“You love my giant ass.”

“Mm. So, can I peg you?” 

“Can’t we just enjoy the post-sex bliss without you ruining it?” 

“No.” You wiggle your ass making him groan and then bite your shoulder in retaliation. 

“Don’t get me hard again, I’ll pass out if we go again before I sleep.” 

“That’s not a problem, unless you squish me, or go soft.” 

“Are you implying you’d carry on fucking even if I pass out?” 

“What? Because you wimp out, I have to suffer?” You scoff and wiggle again. “Got a problem with me using your body when you’re unconscious?” 

Seungcheol is silent for a moment in thought. “Just don’t stick anything in my ass.” 

“Mm, I can accept that. I want you to be awake when I ruin you anyway.” 

“I really don’t know what I’ve got myself into with you, do I?” 

“Nope.” You grin over your shoulder at him. “You said you’ll marry me, you’re stuck with me forever.” 

“I think I’m okay with that,” there’s a smile on his face as he moves off of you so that he can turn you enough to comfortably kiss you in a way that feels something like a promise. 

A promise to be okay with your endless depravities. A promise to marry you as soon as possible and buy a house together. A promise to spend the rest of his life loving you, his utterly bat-shit crazy troublemaker.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie @variety-is-the-joy-of-life

[pippapimentina]

.

[daisynik7]

cw: established relationship, smut - car sex (cowgirl), cunnilingus, creampie, spit used as lube

Author's Note: Been a minute since I wrote a smutty Nanami drabble and I thought of this today while in heat LOL. Enjoy! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune.

Thinking about you and Nanami sneaking off during your company holiday party to fuck each other silly in the car. 

He’s your plus one tonight, dressed to the nines in his signature suit and tie, looking as dashing as ever. You’re in the new dress he bought you, the perfect fit, matching subtlety with him. He hasn’t been able to take his hands off you, one always draped over your shoulders, behind your back, or around your waist. He squeezes you gently whenever one of your wacky coworkers says something inappropriate or unhinged, even firmer if it’s your boss saying it. When you’re both sat at the table, waiting for dinner to be served, he places his hand on your knee, holding you because he just can’t stop touching you, especially in this dress. 

Dinner and two glasses of wine in, you warn him that it’s almost time for the speeches, which are notoriously long and boring. Feeling frisky, he stands up, pulling you with him, briefly explaining to the others at your table that you have to excuse yourselves for whatever reason. They don’t bat an eye, too immersed in their own drinking and merriment to even care where you two run off to. 

Nanami opens the car door for you, like a true gentlemen, beckoning you into the backseat. And unlike a gentleman, he slaps your ass on the way in, chuckling to himself as you playfully yell at him. He follows, locking the car from the inside, already shedding his blazer off. You do the same with your dress, but he stops you, a wild look in his eyes. “Keep this on. I want to fuck you in it.”

You fold the fabric up your thighs until it’s bunched around your waist, allowing you to spread your legs wide enough to display your cunt to him. Of course you aren’t wearing underwear. In fact, he told you not to, intending to do this to you from the very start. If there’s anything you’ve learned about your husband in the last year or two, it’s that he’s recently developed a kink for spontaneous car sex. Not that you’re complaining. 

He dives in, spreading his tongue and smearing his spit all over your aching clit. He’s quick and vicious with it, desperate for your orgasm so he can feel it all around him when he eventually slides his cock inside you. It doesn’t take long for you to give it to him, and once you do, he hoists you onto his lap, kissing you sloppily with his cum-coated lips. You straddle him, grinding against him, your wetness leaking onto his slacks. He pulls out his cock, throbbing in his fist, staring at you with a hazy expression. “Spit on it.” 

You give him a smile and a smooch before dribbling a thick wad of your saliva straight onto his shaft. He shudders, coating his entire length with it, stroking it fast in his grip. He circles the wetted tip around your swollen clit before sliding inside you, letting out a guttural moan as soon as he bottoms out. “Fuck,” he grunts, pressing a delicate kiss to your forehead, cupping your cheek softly in the palm of his hand. 

You nuzzle into his touch, rocking yourself back and forth on him. “Fuck me, Kento. And don’t hold back.”

And he doesn’t, fucking you hard and rough, making you temporarily forget about that silly holiday party still happening inside. They have no clue that you’re getting fucked stupid in the backseat of your car by your husband. That he’s tearing this pussy up with every brutal thrusts he pounds into you, his thumb massaging deep into your core, greedy for your orgasms. 

Neither of you care what a mess you’re making, his hair matted on his sweaty forehead, your dress wrinkled and ruined, his slacks splotched with damp spots from your slick leaking out. It gets even messier when he comes inside you, unable to stop some of his creamy load from seeping into the fabric of his pants.  

Without much of an effort, the two of your pull yourselves together enough to head back to the party. Nanami wraps his jacket around his waist, looking ridiculous, and you ignore the curious stares of your coworkers as they eye the suspicious winkles on your dress. 

It doesn’t matter anyways; you only return in time to collect your bonus. Once it’s in your hands, you thank your boss and excuse yourselves for the rest of the night, ready for round two, three, and four in the comfort of your own home. 

[pseudowho]

The Chase

(help me find the Nanami artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

Kento doesn't appreciate your insistence on No-Nut November. At a Curse-user VS Jujutsu Sorcerer event with the students, Kento hunts you down in a slow-burning, cat-and-mouse, smutty thrill ride.

WARNINGS: 18+, Oral sex (F2M), BDSM, use of toys, some subtle knife-play, overstimulation, orgasm denial, PiV sex, Nanami Kento falling off his perch and Inumaki being an absolute menace, Y/N is a Jujutsu High teacher with a badly explained technique

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"AND WHAT SAY WE TO DEATH, CHILDREN?"

"NOT TODAY!" "SALMON!"

Satoru beamed and clapped at the fighting words of his students, who rustled together and chatted in excitement for their team training day. You smiled fondly at your students (Nobara, Yuuji and Inumaki particularly pumped), but you felt a shiver run down your chest and shoulders.

Kento's eyes bore only into you, and as he pulled the black leather glove tighter to his hand, you felt heat blossom in your belly and pussy. Team game or not, you knew, as a bead of sweat dripped between your cleavage- not unnoticed by Kento, whose wolfish smirk only grew, cock twitching in his black jumpsuit- that you were his prey today, and his alone.

The hunt was on- and you had nobody to blame but yourself.

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Kento clipped a suitcase shut, and zipped his satchel with a huff, mentally ticking off his to-do list, before the team training day which he was in no mood for. While you trailed in and out of the bedroom behind him, every time you brushed past his back, or your fingers grazed his to take something from the bed, his skin turned electric. He reached down to his crotch and squeezed his cock with a suppressed growl; he had been half-hard for weeks, all because of you and your stupid game. No-Nut November was a fucking ridiculous concept, and you had a lot to answer for. Silent and stewing, his strong shoulders were rock solid, as he imagined taking you on the bed, in the shower wet and pink as he hammered into you from behind, making you ride him on the sofa until you were floppy and pliable and begging him to cum inside you, and--

"Kento, are you alright? It is a bit hot in here. You look all sweaty." Feigning concern, and reaching up to scratch your nails through the back of his undercut, you knew exactly what was wrong with your fiancé. Kento's head preened backwards, shivering into your nails, and he turned, pressing you against the wall, his usual gentleness barely winning over his insistence, his need.

"We don't need to continue these silly games any longer, do we darling?" he crooned into your neck, voice honey-laced and persuasive, "You're feeling it too. I know. There would be no winners or losers, here." One muscled forearm pressed against the wall above your head, tongue licking slow circles on your decolletage, while the other hand ghosted over your nipple, tweaking softly. Kento's cock ached desperately, pressing against you. His heart dropped as you laughed and kissed him playfully, sliding out from under his towering frame.

"It's the 28th today, Kento. We're nearly there. Just imagine how good we're going to feel on the 1st." Truth be told, you were absolutely desperate, growing more so as his attempts to seduce you had grown more bawdry, more wiley. Abandoning towels completely as he padded around the house after his shower. Spooning you all night so you couldn't escape from his cock, hard and heavy against your lower back. Choosing movies with only the best sex scenes and tracing the outline of your pussy under the blanket.

You wanted to see him unhinged. You wanted him rough, heavy and all at once, his anger and frustration taken out on your quaking body. You wanted to see just how far you could deny him before he snapped and ate you out for hours, just to hear you fall apart above him. You had even wickedly pondered the possibility of denying him on the 1st.

Kento laughed sardonically, still leaning on his forearm against the wall. The cold in his voice sent icy trickles through your clit and nipples, and even the standing hairs on the back of your neck listened as that same cold voice began to speak to you.

"So this is how you want it? You want me begging?" He shifted his weight, and you could tell he was trying to find some relief for his hard cock in his tight jeans. "So it's a team game today, right? Curse-users VS Jujutsu sorcerers, hiding and hunting, using all of your best espionage techniques to get out victorious, right?" You remained quiet, pretending to finish packing, ears intently pricked.

"We aren't, of course, on the same team- why would we be? So all this time, you've been the bad guy, and today we swap."  His voice dropped an octave, and you jumped as his breath ghosted millimetres away from your ear, not even feeling him move towards you. His hand drew roughly round your hip and clasped your pussy hard, making you squeak, "Today, I'm the bad guy. Would you fancy your chances against a Curse-user like me?"

He stepped away, leaving you flushed and thrilled, panting at the threat and promise.

Kento was now taking the suitcase and bags to the door, seemingly unaffected. He called from the hallway.

"Oh and, darling? I think you'd better give me a safe word. Or god knows what I'll do with you once I catch you."

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It was late, nearly 10pm, as Kento drew the car smoothly into a bay, pulling up the handbrake. You stepped out into the underground car park of the shopping centre, turned into a vast playground for Sorcerers, for one night only. Kento opened the door for you, declining your offers to help him get bags out of the car. Glancing round, he noted you were the first to arrive, and quickly began stripping to change into his outfit for the night- a heavy black jumpsuit, cuffed above dense back boots, leather gloves pulled taut, dark glasses, and a black mask covering his mouth and nose. You watched him breathlessly, already in your usual mission-wear; you were, after all, on the Jujutsu sorcerers team, not the Curse-user team. You imagined Kento stalking through low lights in that outfit, and felt wetness pool between your legs, making your thighs sticky with arousal. As Kento clipped his watch back on, a pair of grey vans pulled into the parking bays opposite you, and soon enough,  your excitable students poured out, greeting you and Kento with bows and waves.

Yuuji, Nobara, Megumi, Maki, Panda, and Inumaki jostled around the vans for their bags. Satoru, Shoko and Ino came next, Ino running directly to Nanami, and already wearing his jumpsuit.

Nobara, Megumi and Maki clambered back into the vans, and shortly after emerged dressed identically to Kento. You had not known the layout of the teams in advance, and by the confused looks on Yuuji, Inumaki and Panda's faces as they joined you, you felt distinctly outnumbered. Kento, Ino, Maki, Nobara and Megumi cut an intimidating team. Kento looked you up and down with glinting eyes, pulling his blade onto his back, and lowering his mask to smirk at you.

You noticed that Maki had with her one of Yaga's cursed dolls. A blue felt teddy with large, watery looking eyes, held onto her back, peering round at the crowd. You heard Maki explaining to Ino that, whilst her glasses were great for seeing curses, they were not so good for seeing cursed energy, and so she had been lent a cursed doll to act as a sniffer dog for anyone leaking above a certain volume of cursed energy. You weren't sure why this was important.

"OKAY TEAMS!" shouted Satoru, demanding audience, as everyone turned to face him and Shoko.

"We will now lay out your objectives; the game is simple. Predator VS Prey, but only you can decide which of those you will be. Nanamin! Care to take over?"

Kento cleared his throat, and stepped up to Satoru, now nearly matching Satoru's height due to the depth of his boots, but vastly broader, built.

"You all have plenty of experience fighting Curses, but little fighting Curse-users. Fighting another man or woman bears vastly different challenges and consequences. The fights are rarely fair, in number or skill or intellect. You must learn to conceal your cursed energy even more vigorously. Why? To minimise your appearance as a threat so you may release it and strike to your best advantage. To hide when your only task is reconnaissance, or getting out of there alive."

Kento took a deep breath, "A dead sorcerer is not a lesson learned. That sorcerer will learn nothing, ever again. The limit of their skill and knowledge has been reached, then cut short. That sorcerer will never again save a civilian, a friend or a colleague. But whether you view your party as allies or fodder, is up to you." You felt heavy sadness in your chest, knowing as Kento stared into the students, that he saw only Yu Haibara, battered and dead on the cold mortuary slab. Satoru and Shoko were silent and grave, Suguru behind their eyes and grimaces.

Kento let his words hang in the cool night air for a few seconds. "Finally, the shopping centre has been chosen as a base of operations for two reasons. Firstly, to remind you of the value of your surroundings, and we ask you to fight intelligently with little to no collateral damage where possible. The building has been stripped of civilians and security cameras all night for our use. I trust you will all behave responsibly."

The students nodded sagely, carrying deep respect for Kento and his words. Nobara's hand shot into the air. Kento gestured fluidly towards her.

"What's the second reason, Nanami-sensei?" Kento didn't correct her, more willing to be sensei now if it meant working alongside you. Kento stepped aside as Satoru stepped forward.

"It would be obviously unfair for me to participate. But, I will be invigilating the event, and if you perform well tonight, I will treat you all to shopping and breakfast in the morning. Why else would I tell you to bring a normal outfit?" Nobara squeaked with delight, and the students began to hustle together as Satoru encouraged a battle-cry.

While the rest of the team jostled and dissipated to find hiding spots with their ten-minute warnings, you bit the bullet and walked, more confidently than you felt, centimetres away from Kento. His eyes met yours and your breath mingled, each feeling the sexual tension as you slipped something into his pocketed hand. You darted out your tongue to graze against his bottom lip, and his breathing hitched as you whispered to him.

"In case I'm too good at hiding, I thought you may need something else to sniff me out."

You turned and ran up the stairs into the shopping centre, disappearing from sight, Nanami turned on by your skill as your cursed energy disappeared completely. Removing a glove and fingering the item in your pocket, his ears reddened and blood rushed directly to his cock, as he felt the still-damp lace of your underwear against his fingertips. He licked his thumb clean of your taste surreptitiously, and raised his mask once more.

Kento clenched his fists and cracked his neck from side to side, adjusting his aching cock in his jumpsuit. The last to leave the car park, he mounted the stairs in leaps, figure dark and imposing as he slipped into the dimmed lights of the shopping centre above. Hunting you. Wanting you.

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You sprinted through the atrium of the shopping centre, quick light footsteps on the white marbled floors. All of the lights above you were significantly dimmed, apart from occasional orange emergency lights, flashing sporadically above fire exits, illuminating your surroundings in brief spats.

A plan formed quickly in your mind, as you slipped into a book shop, hopping over the counter to crouch beneath the tills. Your abilities were good, in some ways exceptional, but you were ill-suited to fight those on the Curse-user team. You considered your chances against all members of the team one at a time; your conclusions were grim, should you face head to head combat. Your skills lay largely in reconnaissance and manipulation, your intelligence for tactical battle-planning vastly outstretching almost all of your peers. Only one member of the team could absolutely match your intelligence, and absolutely exceed your combat prowess; Kento.

You shivered in anticipation. You remember feeling your heart stop, feeling the danger in the air as you ran from Kento, leaving your arousal-damp underwear in his pocket. You grazed a hand over your pussy, covered in nothing but your leather trousers, and felt the outrageous urge to pleasure yourself to Kento, alone and gasping, on the book shop floor.

The thought was cut short as you heard soft rustles against the book store carpet on the other side of the counter. Whatever it was, it didn't weigh much, and it wasn't making much effort to suppress its cursed energy. Your brain ticked- Maki's cursed doll. You stayed calm, your ability to dampen your cursed energy one of your greatest strengths.

It would be a great inconvenience to Maki, you thought slyly, if you destroyed her sniffer-dog. While Maki's own cursed energy was minimal at best, so was her ability to hide it, and so, eyes heavily lidded, you felt Maki approach the book shop, bladed staff in hand. You felt her pause at the door, watching her cursed doll amble uncertainly around the shop, knowing that something nearby had cursed energy, but unable to pin you down.

"You've found something, huh, bear?" Maki walked into the shop. She stood considering her options. "Well, at least we know it's not Itadori-kun. He sticks out like a sore thumb. Another Curse-user would make themselves known to me. So is it Inumaki, Panda, or Y/N-sensei?"

You smiled, proud of Maki. You knew that she and you would have been friends had you attended Jujutsu High at the same time. But, you resolved to make an attempt on the life of her bear, and escape her. You were not here to fight, but to survive.

Your abilities lent themselves best, in the form of telepathic suggestion. In a gentler, more insidious way than Inumaki, you could compel the heart and mind of another in any manner of your choosing. It worked well, most of the time, and served well in keeping you hidden. You were not powerful enough to compel another to violence, or drastic choices.

Maki did not find it unusual when she was compelled to check the darker areas at the back of the store, ignoring her cursed doll, who had now started trying to climb the counter. Reaching over the counter slowly, you whipped the bear into your arms, and, muffling its cries with your foot, savagely ripped off all limbs but one, before shoving it in a dank stationary cupboard.

Its watery blue eyes looked up at you, trembling and whimpering in terror as you pointed a finger in its face, "If you know what's good for you, bear, you'll shut your mouth when Maki calls for you, or I'll deliver you back to Yaga one piece of stuffing at a time." The doll threw its remaining arm over its eyes dramatically, rolling silently against a tape dispenser, quietly weeping. Monstrously satisfied, you locked the cupboard, and slipped effortlessly out of the bookshop.

Immediately at the other end of the atrium, you saw a fight break out- Megumi and Inumaki, you noted. Inumaki's chances were good, but he was a glass cannon, and your confidence in taking out a Curse-user soared as you considered Inumaki your ally. You sprinted towards the fight as Megumi's Nue swept down towards Inumaki, who rolled athletically aside.

I need to get down to the floor, you forced into Megumi's mind as he circled above Inumaki on Nue, I need to get down, and physically incapacitate Inumaki. Not doubting for a moment that his thought was his own, Megumi dismissed Nue at ground level, and, about to beckon his remaining Demon Dog to attack, you leapt at Megumi's back and slammed an elbow into the back of his head. Megumi was in no way prepared, and hit the floor face-first, hard. Inumaki took his chance, unzipping his mouth and speaking directly at Megumi:

"Laugh uncontrollably!" Immediately, Megumi began twisting on the floor in hysterics, blood from his nose dripping into his mouth, wracked with painful laughter as he struggled to get up. In horror, you and Inumaki recalled that Megumi can summon shikigami with his hands alone. Inumaki cried out again:

"Hands down your pants!" Involuntarily, and still wheezing with laughter, Megumi shoved one hand down the front of his pants, and one hand down the back.  Now blushing wildly, sweating, laughing and bloody, Megumi dropped to his knees. You high-fived Inumaki and reached into your pocket, pulling a thick white paint marker out. Leaning down to Megumi and ruffling his hair, you painted a large, white cross over the chest of his jumpsuit. Inumaki dropped blithely off the balcony beside you, hanging by his hands from the railings, only his fingertips now visible.

One down, you thought. Moving to stand, you felt your legs swept abruptly from under you, hitting the floor with a crunch as  Maki loomed over you, staff at your throat.

"I should have known it was you making me search that shop, Y/N-sensei. But where did you put my fucking bear?" You grinned toothily up at Maki, pointing to a Build-a-Bear Workshop on the other side of the hallway. Maki looked away from you at your insistence, and missed Inumaki climbing up the balcony behind her, waggling his tongue before whispering in her ear:

"Have a nice sit down." Maki dropped wordlessly to the floor, legs now completely useless, as you scooted away from her and she swung her staff furiously, cussing at you and Inumaki. Inumaki pulled out his throat medicine, spraying lightly into his mouth while you patted his back in congratulations.

"That was sloppy, Maki, you can do better than that."

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Walking away from Maki, who you couldn't yet determine to be truly defeated as much as severely limited, you and Inumaki wordlessly split ways.

Just Ino, Nobara and Kento left. Rounding a corner, you felt a hushed, deep pulse of cursed energy through your chest. Your breath caught. This cursed energy you knew better than you knew your own. It washed over you when he made you cum. It rumbled through you when he made love to you in the dark of the night. And he was making little, if any effort to conceal it from you, confident in his ability to hunt you until his completion.

Stepping into a doorway backlit only by an intermittently flashing orange light, the black figure of Nanami Kento, huge, blade in hand, remained in the doorway for just enough flashes of light for you to see him and feel dreadful arousal sink into your belly. Another flash came, and the doorway was empty.

All of the breath left your body at once.

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When Kento first reached the top of the stairs into the shopping centre atrium, he felt multiple residual cursed energies heading away from him, his head filing them away rapidly- Inumaki and Megumi, front right, Maki hard right, Panda hard left, and Yuuji, thrumming with cursed energy like a beacon, hard left.

Ino and Nobara took high perches among the huge white rafters, watching, waiting.

He could not, however, feel you. He was not surprised; you were very good at hiding your cursed energy, but Kento knew you better than anyone. He twiddled your lace underwear between his fingers as he considered his options. You were most likely to be flushed out if you considered an ally to be at risk, and Kento considered you most likely to have followed Yuuji, the newbie, and the one whose poorly controlled cursed energy would most likely disguise your own.

He took a left down a curved hallway in the atrium, carefully avoiding any traces of cursed energy, on his way to Yuuji. Suppressing his arousal, his wish to hunt you down like an animal, he reminded himself he also had a job to do.

Meandering around a series of shops, he felt Yuuji, getting closer and closer, until he pushed through the staff entrance of a brightly lit teddy bear shop. Stuffed toys of all varieties, from the size of his palm to the size of a grizzly bear, lined the stacks and shelves, glassy-eyed and plush. Kento briefly considered leaving some money in the till and choosing you one, before gruffly remembering you were an absolute brat who needed the attitude fucked out of you, not a teddy bear. Twisting his neck again as his arousal peaked, he felt his cock growing and throbbing along his thigh. He sighed in frustration. Best just get on with it,  he mulled.

Reaching into an enormous pile of plush unicorns, Kento lifted Yuuji out by the front of his uniform. Yuuji yelped, and took a half-hearted swing at Kento's face. Kento grunted as knuckles chipped his jaw, and he held Yuuji aloft with the same hand as his blade, slapping Yuuji bodily across the cheek.

"Nanamin!" Yuuji gasped, squirming half-heartedly in his grasp. He looked at Kento, wet-eyed, unable to make the decision to fight him. Kento scowled and barely reduced his full force as he swung Yuuji at the floor, hearing marble floor crack under the carpets. Kento knelt, knees pinning Yuuji's arms to the floor as Yuuji choked down blood, gasping and sputtering.

"I'm disappointed in you, Itadori-kun. Fight me, boy." He slapped Yuuji again, and pressed his blade to Yuuji's throat. "Gone. You're dead. In just seconds, because you hesitated to hurt me, because you think I'm your friend." He spat the last word at Yuuji, who stared up at him, jaw steadfast and eyes trembling.

"Would you kill me, boy, if I turned? If I walked with the real Curse-users one day? I'd be lying if I said I hadn't considered it, in my darkest moments."

"You would never. I trust you, Nanamin." Nanami sighed, resting back on his haunches, drawing a painty white cross on Yuuji's chest. Kento stood, pulling Yuuji up from the floor, certain he'd at least broken some of Yuuji's ribs. Yuuji grinned a bloody grin up at Kento.

"Go on, Itadori-kun," Kento sighed, disappointed but unsurprised, "get yourself to Shoko. She's probably at the coffee shop on level 2. Get yourself patched up." Kento didn't even have the heart to interrogate him.

As Yuuji hobbled away, he paused in the staff entrance doorway, and turned to Nanami.

"I'd already made my mind up, Nanamin. If any of you turned to the Curse-users, I wouldn't hurt you because I wouldn't blame you. I'd blame myself for not being there enough. For not helping you." Yuuji walked away, leaving Kento in ponderous silence.

Moments later, Kento felt a warm whoosh of released cursed energy, unmistakeably you. He ducked left, concealed behind the shutters, and, gazing out through the slats, he watched as you and Inumaki flawlessly took out Megumi and Maki. His eyes darkened as you ruffled Megumi's hair, touched Inumaki's hands, patted his shoulders.

Jealous of boys, he scoffed at himself. His self-restraint was now wildly out of touch, obsessing over you barely touching him all month, skirting around him at home, acting like this torture was all for a good cause. He growled lowly at the thought of you now, turning away down a corridor, wondering if you were wet for him, wondering if you were afraid of being caught by him. His mouth salivated at the thought of you pinned against a wall in the dark, crying out for mercy and relief as he pounded, deep and long, into your tight, gummy walls.

Kento was fully erect now, and silently thanked his tight boxers for pinning his aching length against his leg, the heavy jumpsuit material hiding his sticky precum, leaking continuously now, sticking to the hairs on his thighs.

Waiting for Inumaki and you to disappear, he forced up the shutter and crouched underneath, walking across the atrium, finger pressed to his lips as Megumi (still laughing) and Maki saw him. Dropping like a cat onto the level below from the balcony,  he landed on his feet and sprinted ahead, directly underneath the direction he imagined you were headed. Finding a fire escape, he headed up the stairs, and, coated in shadow, emerged into the doorway where he saw you.

Cock thick and hot against his leg, he abandoned any pretence of a game. Hungry and quietly seething, he darted from the doorway into the dark, swearing he could smell you on the air.

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You knew your only chance of escape at this point was to lead Kento through an assault course which was big enough for you, but not for him. The biggest part of you was desperate to be caught, punished at his hands for your torment, and everything inside you clenched in anticipation as you felt your thighs grow steadily wetter with your arousal. Another, competitive part of you wanted to win, and prove to Kento that you were determined to see November to the end. You knew that if you sincerely told Kento to stop, he would drop his every need, his most vital wish being your safety, your right to say no.

But he knew you better than that- knowing your safe word now, knowing how desperately you ached for him, too, he fully committed to your plan to not go down without a fight. When Nanami Kento takes on a duty, he takes it on seriously. And his duty now? To hunt you down, and use you as a personal cocksleeve.

You had already taken a running slide under a partially raised shutter, and heard Kento curse behind you, too bulky to fit beneath it, and an echoing screech as he yanked it upwards. By this point, you were well on your way into a tiny service lift, standing room for one only, the door closing just too fast for Kento to reach. He roared his frustration and, eyes meeting yours through the wired square of glass, you watched his figure disappear as you blew him a kiss.

All of your tactical abilities had grown wings and gone. You panted, nipples erect, thighs sticky, thrilled by the chase, and trying, failing to plan your next move.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Kento paced like a tiger.

If I have to pull you out of a fucking dumbwaiter, I will. He turned tail to the doors and rolled under the shutters, moving seamlessly back onto his feet and searching for the nearest store-room access point. Finding one, bathed in sickly light, Kento ignored individual stairs and instead leapt them a flight at a time, like a man possessed.

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

As soon as you made your way out of the lift, you realised you had made a terrible error of judgement. Between the rolling trolleys and stacks of cardboard boxes, you could see only one way out. Above you, you heard rhythmic slams, getting closer, as someone hit each staircase downwards with terrifying force.

You turned tail and ran back into the service lift, hammering your forefinger on the 'up' button repeatedly, screaming and clapping a hand over your mouth as the store room door slammed open and heavy footsteps sprinted towards you, the lift door nearly closed but four thick fingers pushed past the gap and with a grunt of effort turned satisfied sigh, Kento stepped into the space, barely wide enough for a stack of boxes, and now with he and you crammed against each other.

Still clad in black glasses and mask, he glowers at you wordlessly, reaching one finger behind him to press the 'down' button, keeping the lift in place in the dimly lit basement. You stutter up at him, utterly trapped.

"Kento-" you start, and he presses a leather-gloved finger to your lips. Pushing you, looming over to you until you're flush against the back wall of the lift, you moan as he slowly lifts you off the ground with his thigh and knee pressed against the wall, pussy now grinding against his flexing muscles. You shudder at the sudden pressure, unable to stop yourself bucking your sex against his thigh. Before you could plead for relief, he pressed two black gloved fingers into your mouth, firmly caressing your tongue at first, before pushing them deeply to the back of your throat. A satisfied huff came from beneath his mask as you choked and gagged, his second hand coming up to lightly squeeze the front of your throat, feeling for his fingers inside you.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" he breathed, low and dangerous, continuing to fuck your mouth with his fingers, gradually releasing and squeezing your throat in time with your desperate bucking against his thigh. He groaned lowly, savouring your flushed cheeks and the tears of overstimulation running down them.

"Oh darling," he intoned, watching you struggle to get yourself off against his thigh. "Would this help?" He released your mouth and throat abruptly, reached between your legs with both hands and ripped your trousers at the crotch, your pussy now directly on the harsh cloth of his jumpsuited thigh. You let out a momentary cry of protest, and Kento laughed cruelly.

"You make me hunt you like an animal just for a good fuck, and you draw the line at torn clothes? Please. Your pussy's going to need fresh air for a month after what I'm about to do to you."

He hoisted you roughly by the hips and you wrapped your legs around him, and now you could feel the complete outline of his cock, straining and pulsing against the fabric of his jumpsuit.

"Put the effort in, sweetheart," he said as he let go of your thighs, slamming his clothed cock against your bare pussy to hold you against the wall, and you humped furiously against his length, folds open and clit rubbing directly on rough cloth. He gasped beneath his mask, and as you clawed at his back and sucked a droplet of sweat off the side of his throat, he growled, low and threatening.

You felt his hands move together, one to grip your throat again and push your head hard against the wall, and the other to rip open your shirt and tear the fabric of your bra to release your breasts. He tugged at your nipples until you mewled and squirmed against him. He felt your arousal seep through his jumpsuit and underwear, mixing with his precum and making you both wetter. Involuntarily, his hips bucked into you, and you broke, begging and pleading for him to let you cum.

Abruptly, he pulled away from you, leaving you splayed, pussy cold and throbbing, denied the pleasure of your approaching orgasm. Kento turned away from you, shoulders heaving with effort, gripping the base of his cock through his jumpsuit. Head thrown back as he panted, you felt lightheaded with the smell of his sweat and natural scent filling the air around you.

"No...no. You don't get off that easily. And I won't get off that easily, humping like teenagers in a store cupboard. You take pleasure in denial? I'll give you denial."

He turned, spinning you and pressing your face against the cold wall, hand still gloved. You were astounded and appalled by his level of self-control, his own continued self-denial, refusing himself sensory stimuli by remaining gloved, clothed and masked. He rolled his hand into a fist and pressed the small of your back.

"Arch. Now," he ordered. You did as you were told, dropping your belly and pushing your arse out, teasing again against his straining cock. You heard a slow unzipping behind you, and a rustling. You cried out as fabric was crammed into your mouth and, tasting yourself and Kento on your tongue, you guessed he had used your panties to clean himself up before silencing you.

Another noise filled you with alarm- Kento reaching to his back and unsheathing his blade. You felt one finger gently tap the side of your head as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, "You and I both know you have other ways to get your safe word across, hmm?"

You felt something cool and hard rub slowly between your wet, bare folds, and realised with a moan and a blush that Kento was about to fuck you with the handle of his blade. Rubbing lazy circles around your clit, Kento sighed, watching creamy arousal drip down the handle of his blade. He wanted nothing more than to duck down and lick it clean before plunging his tongue into your velvety walls, for you to ride his face until he had you seeing stars. Denying yourself pleasure had meant denying him pleasure, and you knew as well as he did that all it took for him to cum in his pants was you moaning, breaking and falling apart as he ate you out.

For now, he'd let his rage burn slowly, bright embers on black coal, and remind you just how patient he could really be. It would be all the better to lose control with you when you were fucked out, floppy and incapable of denying him any longer.

"Are you going to cum on my blade, hmm?" he whispered against your ear, quickening his circles around your clit as you nodded and whimpered, occasionally threatening to push his blade's handle inside you, denying you as you pressed yourself back into him. Suddenly, inchingly, he raised the handle to your entrance, sliding it through velvet walls and your slick until it bottomed out at the hilt. You whined, and squealed as he twisted the blade, so the nub at the end of the handle pushed insistently against your cervix and sweet spot.

Thrusting it in and out of you harshly, Kento felt dizzy as you shook and whined, leather glove now coated with your creamy white arousal, smells of sweat and cum mingling in the air, and he was overwhelmed for a moment with untouched pleasure and affection, with how well you were doing for him, and he mumbled into your ear as if he were the one being pleasured blind.

"Oh god, yes, yesssss, keep going. Keep going darling, don't stop now, you're taking it so well for me." He groaned into your ear as it became harder for him to push the handle back into you as your pussy clenched and fluttered as you approached your orgasm, tears streaming down your cheeks, so he sped up, reaching round you with his other hand to pinch your clit harshly.

You came with a shout, bliss overwhelming you, wishing it was his cock your walls were milking, your voice drawing out into pathetic mewling as Kento continued his ministrations. Your vision speckled with white lights and your legs shook, seeking Kento's eyes behind his dark glasses. He raised his eyebrows and looked over his glasses at you, eye-to-eye for the first time since you had left home and through Kento's flinty gaze, was a fleck of playfulness as he toyed with you, a cat with a mouse.

Kento hummed, "Too much, not enough...hard to please, aren't you? Oh, keep going my love, because I won't be satisfied until you're putty in my hands." Precum dripped down his throbbing cock as you came again, crying out weakly, nearly collapsing onto the handle of his blade. Slowing down as you rode the waves of pleasure, Kento pulled the handle out and wiped the tears from your eyes, shushing you. He tugged the panties out of your mouth as you coughed and pocketed them, raising the handle up to your mouth.

"Clean it," he ordered, eyeing you intently as you obediently locked and sucked your own essence of the length of the handle. "Not too much," he urged, sheathing his blade back between his shoulders, "I want to smell you on my hands after I fight."

You turned, back pressed against the wall, and Kento allowed it. He appraised his work, you now trembling and sweating, your arousal evident on the torn leather of your trousers, and you begged him.

"Kento, please...I need you inside me. I'll do anything. Please."

"I'm not sure," he intoned again, "you haven't taken me for quite some time, you see. I feel like we need to stretch you out a little, before I wrap you around my cock."

Still staring at you, eyes settled on your heaving breasts, squashed together by your torn shirt, he removed his gloves, one finger at a time. Reaching into another pocket, you heard the rustle of packaging, and Kento deftly unpackaged a dildo and rabbit duo, and a tiny controller that he rolled musingly between his thick fingers.

Hand around your throat again, warningly, Kento gave a gentle squeeze as he stuffed the dildo up with little warning until it bottomed out in you, rabbit lined up with your clit. You jumped in shock, still sensitive from cumming- but blurted out through your tight throat, "Not as big as you."

Kento chuckled sardonically, "Oh? You remember how big I am?" He yanked you in by your neck until you were nose to nose, "Only, you haven't been very good friends with my cock this past-" he checked his watch, "29 days, have you?" He removed his glasses, tossing them aside, rewarding you again with his impassive gaze. His mood was swinging so wildly, he was giving you whiplash. Kento, for the first time in years, seemed positively unhinged. He slammed a mask-shielded kiss to your mouth, moaning into you, and as you came up for air, he buried his hand deep into your hair, grabbing at the roots and forcing you down to your knees, the tightness of the space bringing you face to face with his clothed, hard cock.

He stared down into your eyes, satisfied with the arrangement as you clutched his thighs, and you felt the vibrator buzz to life while he once again unzipped his jumpsuit agonisingly slowly, stripteasing you as first the hard planes of his chest, then his abdomen, then his neatly trimmed honey-coloured pubes came into view.

Reaching the hand holding the controller down, he reached into his underwear and finally revealed his heavy cock and balls, falling hard onto your face. Your mouth watered as you stared up at him, opening your mouth obediently, and Kento's last thread snapped.

Both hands now buried in your hair, and gripping the controller, Kento rammed his cock immediately to the back of your throat, whimpering with relief at the intense pleasure of your throat gagging around him. A few quick clicks of the controller and the vibrator maxed out, strangled squeaks coming from you at the combined intensity of Kento fucking your face with wild abandon and the buzz of the vibrator on your swollen, hypersensitive clit.

Kento gripped you by the hair, slamming his cock repeatedly into your mouth and throat, grunting and gasping as he felt your tongue raise to cup the underside of his sensitive length, pink head brushing against the wet muscle as he thrust, and thrust, and thrust. His head swirled with pleasure, vision thick and hazy after denying himself and being denied for so long, moaning your name, begging to cum down your throat, begging you to cum with him. Head thrown back, he saw stars.

Rolling his head down to look at you, tears running down your cheeks, and mingling with your own saliva and his precum, he fell apart as he watched you play with your own nipples, your mouth tight around him.

As you came again, throat closing around him, he held you nose to pubes as he came with a bark, a month's worth of pent up seed squirtig down your throat in thick, hot bursts. You swallowed, twitching and jerking as the vibrator overstimulated you and you struggled to swallow Kento's massive load. Kento shook, grip in your hair loosening, cock still pulsing and leaping in your mouth as his orgasm drew-out, moaning your name and sweet nothings to you.

Pulling out of your mouth, cock still impossibly hard, he pulled you up to him, pulling the dildo out of you and throwing it and his mask aside. Your eyes met, thoughts headed in the same direction and he pressed you against the wall, your legs locked around his hips.

Kento sunk his cock between your puffy folds, hammering into you immediately, kissing you properly for the first time. Both addled and desperate, you cried out his name as Kento rammed repeatedly into you, pulling out almost completely before bottoming out again, feeling your cervix jump against your belly every time he hit you deeply.

Hair a mess, sweat mingling on his chest, and eyes ablaze, Kento watched you with total adoration as you melted around him, as pliable and floppy as he'd wanted you, eyes glazed as you shook your head and whined.

"I can't cum again...Kento...hurts..."

He leaned close, huffing into your neck as his cock continued to abuse your hole, used and swollen, denying himself from finishing until you came again. His hand coming to rest at your throat again, and his other at your breasts, he squeezed both harshly. The overstimulation combined with lack of air caused a rush that went straight to your pussy, and you broke, gushing around him as you came again.

Kento came again, all shaking moans and pleas, cockhead squirting against your cervix as you felt warmth seep into your belly, both riding your highs, clinging to each other as if on a sinking ship.

Moments passed, panting in each others' arms, and Kento drew both arms around you, embracing you warmly, nose in your hair. You sunk against his chest in bliss, a moment of emptiness as his cock slipped out, and cum trickled down your thighs.

"You were right," he finally groaned, "it was especially good after so long."

You grinned into his chest, nuzzling it and planting a wet kiss above his heart, "And you were right."

Kento looked down at you, one eyebrow raised quizzically. You nipped his left pec, playful.

"I wouldn't fancy my chances against a Curse-user like you."

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Principal Yaga sat with Gojo and Nanami, reading through progress reports for the students, looking with special interest at the Sorcerer VS Curse-user event.

"So, let me get this straight:

Fushiguro would have laughed himself to death if Inumaki hadn't finally released his technique, and Shoko healed him of a minor concussion caused by Nanami-sensei.

Zenin Maki had to be carried back to the van by Ijichi-san, as Inumaki wouldn't release his technique, as he worried Zenin would stab him to death.

Nanami, you broke four of Itadori-kun's ribs, as he refused to fight you. As he was headed to Shoko for treatment, Nobara nailed him to the walls of a lingerie store, but both declined to answer who was in there first. Nobara went to browse the clothing shops.

Ino was found asleep at 2am in a bed store, and once Inumaki had ordered him to tidy up after himself, he was then ordered to go and play by himself in the adjacent toy shop.

Inumaki settled himself down in the book shop, and sellotaped my Curse-doll back together, which he found inside a stationary cupboard, after it had been torn to shreds by Nanami-sensei.

Nanami captured you in the store rooms after a brief combat."

Yaga then glared up at Gojo, eyes narrowed as Gojo sipped coffee innocuously. Yaga continued.

"And Gojo witnessed none of it, as he and Shoko spent the whole night gossiping at the coffee shop on Level 2."

"I figured Nanamin and his girl had things handled."

Yaga scoffed, tucking the papers back inside their folder.

"So who would you both agree to have been MVP of the event?"

Nanami and Gojo looked at each other. Considering, Nanami spoke first.

"I'd say it had to have been Inumaki. Excellent use of his cursed-technique to incapacitate without injuring, taking out 3 of the 5 Curse-user team, with a little support from my wife."

"Actually," Gojo interjected, "I'd have to say it was Panda." Nanami raised an eyebrow in inquiry- he had completely forgotten about Panda.

Gojo continued, "He stayed as still as the grave against the shelves in the Build-a-Bear Factory. Said he hadn't planned to stay there that long, but he found watching Nanamin beat Itadori-kun half to death so intimidating, he stayed there all night. I didn't find him until 7am."

-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Reader when she runs from Kento after pushing her undies into his pocket:

Being chased down by horny Nanami?

Haha pussy go BRRRR

[love-belle]

i want sweet revenge and i want him again !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them ignoring their feelings and making the worst decisions.

or

for when they will always be your summer love. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // pierre gasly x fem!reader

sequel - you were my summer love ⋆·˚ ༘ *

warnings - language

author's note - posting this at 3am bc i have midterms from monday and it's very unlikely i'll post again this month 💔💔💔💔 i love u all so much thank u for reading <3

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yourusername "get him back!" is finally out!!!! i wrote this song in my car after breaking down over the consequences of my own actions and getting yelled at by my twitter girlies <3 summer was fun i had fun we all had fun but the aftermath is not pretty so fuck them boys u all stay happy and thriving hydrated!!!! get ur sweet revenge and get him back!!!!! but fr pls tell his mom her son sucks ❤️

8,628 comments

username there's too much going on idk what to decipher first

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username not her telling us to get our man back but also tell his mom that her son sucks

-> username top tier advice idc

username THE SONG'S A FUCKING BOP OMG

username those lyrics are so her and him coded like 💔💔💔💔💔

charles_leclerc don't call me weird

-> yourusername this is so unprovoked get out

-> username nah what the fuck is charles doing here 😭😭😭😭

-> username CHARLES????

username "bc everyone knew the guy was missing a screw" BABE LET HIM GO!!!!!!!!

username THE TEXT OH MY GOD

username i miss her and that dude ngl

-> username no bc they were so cute together 💔💔💔

-> username why do men ruin everything 😐😐😐😐😐

username "i can fix him" GIRL YOU ARE WORSE THAN HIM

-> yourusername UNCALLED FOR

username i fucking love her and her fans so much like the way we're all js best friends with her and she's sooooo in touch with her fans ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

-> yourusername not true u all js bully me

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-> yourusername ://

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-> yourusername i have proof and im not afraid to use it

-> username "proof" and it's literally just her being a dumbass and us having NORMAL reactions to it

-> yourusername FURTHER PROOF UR HONOUR

username so MUCH for summer LOVE and saying US cause u weren't mine to LOSEEEE

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landonorris WEIRD??? ME???

-> yourusername GET OUT OF MY COMMENTS SECTION THIS ISN'T ABT Y'ALL

-> username what the fuck is doing on

-> username im so out of loop wtfff

username "i want sweet revenge and i want him again" unhinged behaviour fr

username every time we think she's healing she comes back and writes a song that's basically a BIG cry for help like girl pls we're getting tired 💔

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paddock.club rumours have been swirling around pierre gasly and his anonymous girlfriend, who's affectionately called 'augustine' by his fans, and their alleged break-up for weeks now. the said rumours were confirmed as gasly was seen out in monaco and he certainly wasn't alone — or with just one consistent company. "this may confuse some people but they were very different from each other," sources close to the couple claimed. "after summer break ended, it felt like so did whatever they had going on." this comes as a shock as despite knowing almost nothing about augustine, fans adored her and they're devasted about the end of their summer love. click on the link in our bio for everything that we know about their relationship.

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pierregasly you're trippin'

9,638 comments

username NAH THE AUDACITY OF M*N SOMETIMES

username BROTHER IM STILL RECOVERING FROM THE AUGUSTINE REVEAL SLOW DOWN

username HELLO???????? HE'S SEEING SOMEONE???????

-> username "he said i was the only girl but that js wasn't the truth"

username the fact that he used HER lyrics for his caption like..........im SICK rn

username when 😭 i 😭 told 😭 him 😭 how 😭 he 😭 hurt 😭 me 😭 he 😭 told 😭 me 😭 i 😭 was 😭 trippin 😭

username im actually in shock rn like my jaw is on the FLOOR

landonorris caption 😬

username no bc im here thinking like she called his friends weird 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 that's why charles and lando were so offended in the comments 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

username boy she's over there listening to summer love by one direction WHAT R U DOING

username that's not y/n in the last slide and im throwing up rn i need them BACK

username need this all to be a nightmare bc i cannot fucking do this anymore 💔💔💔💔

username it's on SIGHT when i see u on streets

username im so 💔💔💔💔💔

username y'all i feel bad for bullying y/n bc if i were her i too wouldn't move on from this man

-> username fr like we gave her sm shit for being in love with him and im like "girlypop same omg"

-> username real like i see what she saw

charles_leclerc nice choice for caption 👍 very strong words 👍

username here for charles and lando calling him out for the caption like yasss kings ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ do ur work ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username y/n needs to be more cunty rn bc this is so wtf

username L caption 🤣🤣🤣🤣🫵🫵🫵🫵

username im gonna miss their summer love era so much like we were FED ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

username "and when he said something wrong he'd just fly me to france" WOW OKAYYYY

username something about his last post before this being all about augustine and their summer and now this one is basically shading her like 💔💔💔💔💔

username everyday we stray further away from good

username ripping my hair out why cant bitches be happy ffs

[actual-changeling]

this one is thanks to a post by @thegroovyfool because she is very much correct - we do not talk about aziraphale's "i need you" enough.

so once again, with a deep breath and a sigh, welcome back to alex's unhinged meta corner, where i tear apart the confession scene frame by frame. i'm gonna say, watching this particular clip over and over and focusing on aziraphale's face almost took me out.

let's get into it.

first, how about a little look at our starting point. (any blurry screencaps are due to a LOT of movement on michael's part rip)

crowley is very pointedly facing away from him, he turned after aziraphale said "we can be together - angels!", presumably because being offered exactly what he wants in the one way he cannot have it fried his brain, cause besties it surely fried mine.

aziraphale on the other hand looks openly desperate, which is why he says "i need you." more on that later. let's have a look at how he says it, because michael "microexpressions" sheen is putting in the work.

to me, he seems close to tears, his eyes are glistening in that specific "i'm about to cry my eyes out" way i know from looking in the mirror while crying

he is trying to get crowley to listen to him and to turn around. he wants crowley to face him, which is something most people tend to want during an argument. talking to someone who is not looking at you tends to make someone frustrated and like they're not hearing you/do not care about what you have to say.

aziraphale looks close to despair, his i need you is a plea to crowley to come with him. he is opening himself up not just emotionally but physically, too.

he slightly leans forward, his arms are raised and seem to both slightly grasp for crowley and point towards his chest/heart for emphasis. the pure pain visible on his face knocks the air out of me every single time i look at it.

aziraphale is admitting to needing him, something he has never done before, hell, he has told him the exact opposite on numerous occasions. i don't need you. and while they both knew it was a) a lie and b) a way for him to deal with his conflicting emotional standpoints and cognitive dissonance, it still hurt crowley every. single time.

crowley was there for him no matter what, he knows aziraphale needs him but he came back and remained at his side even when he was pushed away and more or less openly insulted. he endured it all.

aziraphale saying i need you now is pretty much a slap in the face but also what crowley needs to hear. as with everything that happens during the entire conversation, the timing is fucked up and they're talking past each other.

in my opinion, that is why crowley does not react.

only when aziraphale turns spiteful and starts questioning his understanding (aka calling him stupid without outright saying it) does he re-enter the conversation.

aziraphale, however, is upset. now, i will put on my tinhat for just a second and turn up the insanity because there are two more things i want to talk about.

first, the little stutter at the beginning.

"i ngk - i need you."

my question is - why? why does he stumble over these words in particular when it does not happen with any other sentence? the only other time is right after crowley walks away with his "good luck", he stumbles over crowley's name.

so, in short, it happens when he is either caught off-guard or saying something incredible emotional.

and this, everyone, is where i go unhinged in my interpretation.

what if he initially did not want to say "i need you?" what if he was so caught up in getting crowley to stay/come with him that he did not think and almost confessed another three word sentence?

what if he was about to say "i love you" but stopped himself because no, that's too direct, they don't do that, they can't do that. it goes against EVERYTHING they have silently build over the last six thousand years. so he chokes on it. he chokes on it and instead he says "i need you" because it means the same thing.

i need you. don't leave me. come with me. be an us. go off together.

i forgive you. i love you.

they say it over and over again because that's the only way they can say it.

that is why aziraphale is so angry and upset after saying it. he told crowley he loves him, he needs him, and all he got in return was silence.

the funny part is that this code may have worked before, but it no longer does. crowley is too hurt to listen to what aziraphale is trying to tell him, and aziraphale is equally as hurt and also not listening anymore.

the funny part is that it stopped being about love and started being about sides again. my side, your side, our side. choose a side, choose our side, choose me.

the funny part is that beelzebub and gabriel told them what they need to do, i found something that mattered more to me than choosing sides.

[earlysunshines]

eyes on me (and only me)

myoui mina x fem!reader ; fluff, angst, smut ; wc: 9.1k

synopsis: mina’s not fond of the attention you’re receiving, but it’ll take more than a glare to get that message across.

warnings: smut smut smut! ; alcohol ; almost fucking in the bathroom lmfao ^_^ : angst if u squint ; friends to fucking to lovers or smth like that ; rushed lowk ; not proofread and anything else i missed??

a/n: not my best work plus i wrote this on my phone. lots of mistakes oops

—

the light turns red, you slow down smoothly. the glow from the traffic light illuminates mina’s face with a red glow. you turn to catch a glimpse of her.

she catches you glancing over and raises a brow, you smile playfully and turn back to watch the cars pass.

“why do you do that?” she asks you, rolling her eyes. “you’re so weird.”

“don’t say that, i’m amazing.”

mina shakes her head and turns to face the passengers window, hiding her smile from you. the music in the car continues to play, you giggle, and the light turns green again. you gradually press down on the pedal.

you and mina have been friends for 8 years and counting, luckily you both ended up at the same university—which meant no long-distance friendship and no problems.

(well— there was one problem, one that kept the two of you up at night: the mutual attraction the two of you had for each other.)

(but both of you choose to ignore that in order to keep yourselves sane.)

(it doesn’t keep any of you sane.)

mina was someone you could be completely transparent with, and despite how stupid or unhinged you’ve been, she’s stuck by your side throughout the years. and speaking of which, throughout the years she’s only gotten prettier, and she’s been undeniably beautiful. she matured physically and mentally, the physical aspect unquestionably catching your eye more. years pass and her features are sharper, yet as elegant as ever. more eye candy for you, and more excuses such as: “i was zoning out” to repeat after getting caught staring. both of you had a staring problem.

“and~ we’re home.” you beam, watching mina unbuckle the seatbelt. “give me your bag, you must be tired.”

mina hands you her small shoulder bag and smiles at you, you return the smile. she gets out your car and stretches her arms out, sighing as she does so.

the night breeze hits you in the face hectically, but it passes through mina’s hair in a way that reminds you of some commercial, with her as the conspicuous model.

the two of you walk over to the entrance of your apartment complex, then up the stairs. you follow mina up as she walks to the third floor, and you feel a little bad since her legs must hurt.

once you get to your shared apartment, mina reaches inside the pocket of her jacket for the keys, then pulls them out and starts to unlock the door. she turns the lock to the right once and pushes the door open, turning on the light as soon as she steps inside.

mina plops on the couch and you giggle, smiling at your best friend and roommate. you plop down next to her and she puts her feet on your lap, sinking into the cushions deeper.

“shift must’ve been rough, huh?” you ask, watching her nod in response. she closes her eyes and turns to the side, sighing.

“i have a test tomorrow too.”

“seriously? on what?”

“physics.” she groans, then sits up. “i figured majoring in architecture would be less grueling. i was wrong. so wrong.”

“you set yourself up for more of that.” you tease, tapping her shoulder and urging her to turn around. “let me ease the tension, then you can rest a bit and study a bit. it’s only 5:50.”

she hums and turns around; you place your hands on her shoulders and begin to work at the stiff muscles with your nimble fingers. she gasps at the sudden contact, shrugging then easing into your touch. mina lets out a variety of sighs and groans here and there, but otherwise stays pretty inaudible the rest of the time. she leans away from you after she’s had enough, rolling her shoulders back and then cracking her neck.

"thank you y/n, for everything.”

you can’t help but chuckle after hearing her words of gratitude. she sounded so serious and sincere, which caught you off guard. you stand up and intertwine your own fingers together, stretching them up and behind your back a bit.

“i just drove you back from work and massaged you, that’s what friends are for. no need to be to sentimental minari.”

she rolls her eyes and scoffs at your teasing tone, “oh so i guess i’ll just quit showing my gratitude.”

“hey i didn’t mean—”

a pillow is thrown at your stomach before mina starts giggling, showing her gums and all as she beams; just how you adore. you throw the pillow back at her and she catches it with her hands, then stands up and sets it down on the couch.

“okay now go study, can’t be wasting your tuition on a failed physics grade.”

“i don’t want to hear that from you y/n. didn’t you get a 67 on that anatomy module?”

“hey!” you raise your hands up in defense, “i passed, that’s all that matters.”

“yeah, whatever. i’m going, thanks again.” mina mumbles, grabbing her bag and walking over to her room.

she smiles as soon as she enters her room, then laughs to herself. she sighs dreamily, something out of a romcom.

--

“so the both of you aren’t actually togeth—”

“no.” mina dismisses momo immediately. momo looks at you whilst you talk with the girl you met in your kinesiology class, the girl that’s a little too touchy and flirty for mina’s liking. “she’s occupied anyway, always talking with any girl that’s in her line of sight.” mina scoffs.

“oh, so you’re jealous?” momo laughs, grinning at mina.

the younger woman shoves the older one in the shoulder, rolling her eyes. “no. she’s just taking her sweet time when we need to be somewhere.”

you’re smiling, you’re laughing, and she is doing the same. her hands are resting on your chest every now and then and she’s also giving you heart eyes. of course, you’re too oblivious to realize – just how you always are with girls like that – mina hates it.

finally, after what feels like an eternity, you finish talking to the girl, make an excuse that you have to leave, and check your phone. you look up and mina is talking to momo, and then you walk over — no, rush over and almost trip in the middle of the lobby — and apologize for being a couple of minutes late. mina grimaces and momo gives you a toothy smile.

“let’s go, we need to pick up sana too—right?” you ask, mina simply nods, no small smile or anything before she turns away.

she starts walking out the doors first and you frown at the sudden moodiness from her. you know mina well, well enough to know when she’s having her mood swings and feeling down. you learned to be attentive at a young age, and mainly — only — for her.

you look over to momo and she shrugs, then suggests, “maybe if you weren’t so late.”

“it was six minutes.”

“maybe it’s more than the time then.”

“momo—” you’re unable to finish your sentence because now she’s the one turning around and following mina’s path. your shoulders sink and you frown again. your legs carry you out the doors to follow the two women despite the sinking feeling in your heart.

mina is standing beside the passenger door waiting for you to unlock your car, and momo is on her phone leaning against the door to the backseat. you click the button on your keys, your car makes that clicking noise and lights up, then mina and momo get inside at the same time.

you get into the drivers seat and turn on your engine, then face mina to ask, “want the aux?” then she hums in response, plugging her phone in. momo observes from the back seat; the way you clench your teeth subtly, mina’s hesitance, the way your hand grips the steering wheel tighter than usual, mina’s body turning away from yours.

sana is in the car ten minutes later and immediately, the tension starts to die down.

“i’m so hungry…” sana sighs, linking her arm with momo’s.

you laugh and assure her, “i’ll drive quick, i think everyone is as hungry as you.” mina smiles and you catch it from the corner of your eye; you grin sheepishly..

it’s silent for the most part other than sana starting all the conversations and everyone responding. then, halfway through the car ride, sana beams and mentions: “hey, sebastian is throwing a house party, everyones going to be there you know.”

“…and?” you hum, eyes on the road.

“we should go!”

“sana,” mina begins, “you know i’m not a party person.”

sana pouts. “come on~ that chaeyoung girl you’ve been all flirty with is going to be there. maybe you can hit it off with her.”

the light turns red and you hit the brakes – not so smoothly – and quirk a brow at mina. you’ve been able to hit it off with some girls on campus, hooking up with them and whatnot, but the mention of mina talking to someone – which, you’re been completely unaware of – strikes a nerve in you for some reason. she’s not yours, you’re not hers, yet there’s a sick feeling in your stomach.

“you’re— you’re talking to someone?” the uneasy atmosphere makes its comeback as soon as the question slips past your lips, and mina shrinks in her seat. “you never told me that.”

“you never tell me about all the girls you talk to, i can’t talk to one?” mina says, her tone vicious.

“i- no, i just, i thought you would’ve told me about something like that.” you look at her apologetically, she doesn’t bat an eye at you. “i didn’t mean that, mina.’

sana and momo glance at each other in the backseats; momo shrugs, sana raises her brows, and then sana decides to clear the air.

“so, let’s go as a group?” she insists, and you can only hum as you pull into the parking spot near the café.

momo decides to find seats for the four of you and you thank her before grabbing mina’s wrist and dragging her to the bathroom. sana and momo watch, both as surprised as mina.

it’s a single person restroom, and you close the door behind you harshly before backing mina against the sink. you’re only an inch or two taller, nothing too significant, but somehow it feels like you’re towering her completely.

she looks into your eyes, you look into hers tenderly; mina surrenders and breaks the eye contact.

“what’s going on mina?”

“i’m sorry, it’s nothing.”

“it’s clearly something.” you murmur, curious and confused. “please, you can tell me anything.”

without thinking, you cup her face. your hands are warm, they’ve always been warm and mina’s have always been on the colder end. mina feels her heart shatter and pound against her chest at the same time, her cheeks flush but her lips twitch into a frown.

hesitant to give into your touch, she shudders away subtly. “it’s nothing, i’m just, you know—“

“mood swings?” you ask, moving your hand to her shoulder and rubbing your thumb against the material that covers it. mina leans in to your touch this time and nods, looking back at you. “i’m sorry for, sounding so… i don’t know, angry. it’s not my business, and if you’re talking to someone…” you gulp down your feelings and decide on what anyone would say. “then i hope they make you happy and whatnot, it’s not my business. i shouldn’t have pushed it.”

“no,” mina mumbles. you turn your head, confused. “i think i’ve been a bit distant recently, i haven’t been as open.”

“hey don’t say that, i guess the stress is killing both of us.”

“i’m sorry again.” mina sighs.

“it’s okay, i love you always, no matter what.”

“and how do you?” mina questions, tensing up at the feeling of your thumb rubbing against her shoulder now. you slide your hand down to her forearm subconsciously, pausing your actions.

“what? mina, you know i love you. we’ve been friends since like, forever. i’m just saying i’m always here if you need me.”

friends.

“okay, yeah thanks.” mina rushes her response out, then recomposes herself. she grabs your wrist briefly before letting go, then opens the door. “i’m hungry, hurry up.”

“yeah yeah, whatever.”

--

mina’s normal for the rest of the week and there are no complications or mood swings for the most part. the two of you are pretty busy anyway, no time for arguments when your professors are up your asses.

there’s those moments of solitude with your roommate that bring you some peace of mind here and there, which makes it harder to push down the trivial feelings you have for mina. like that one time mina helped you out with dinner, pushing you to the side with her hand on your waist. yeah, that one had your heart racing.

other than a near heart attack and some domestic and weirdly intimate alone time with mina, there hasn’t been any tension or bickering since that car ride. things seem good and you’re happy with that.

sana reminds you of the party the day of, it reminds you of what had happened in the car. you’re reminded of mina’s ‘talking stage’ and it bothers you more than you’d like to admit, but there’s nothing to worry about since mina isn’t the biggest partygoer. she’d probably be cooped up in her room playing games while you drank more than you intended to again, just like always.

tonight was an exception.

you’re leaning against the counter in your baggy jeans and the fit t-shirt where the sleeve cuts off just above your bicep – the shirt that makes your arms look good and shows your tattoos better – and sana is texting the group chat saying she’ll be there in five. you wait patiently and pass the time by mindlessly scrolling.

what you don’t expect is to see mina emerging from the hall looking effortlessly beautiful like she always does. she meets your gaze then drops it to your own body, quickly returning back to the shared eye contact. there’s something in the way she holds herself up that’s keeping your look on her for a moment longer, afraid to look away just in case you’ll miss something.

she’s fucking stunning, no doubt about that. a cropped, white top hugs her figure perfectly and shows a good amount of her defined abdomen, the light shines in a way that highlights her grooves. she has that naturally striking body, the one that girls envy or swoon over, and the ones that guys eye not so subtly in public, much to your dismay. she’s also wearing some light makeup — a rosy sunset lightly decorating the outside of her eyes and a darker shade of red painted on her lips — and even without it your jaw would be on the floor. her wavy hair falls loosely around her and her bangs are tousled – different than her usual well kept look – it all captivates you. mina’s fucking hot, no doubt about that.

your eyes do a lot of the talking, they run up and down her body, down to the curve of her hips that are covered by her low-rise boyfriend jeans. mina’s inching closer and you recompose yourself, try not to eye fuck your roommate too hard.

“you’re going to the party? thought you weren’t a party person.”

“i don’t have anything better to do.”

“not going to stay and play games? that’s new.”

she scoffs, then crosses your arms and it makes you realize that you’ve been looking at her exposed tummy again. you make eye contact with her again. mina raises her brows, then responds with a hint of test in her tone, “do you not want me to go? sounds a lot like it.”

not when you look like that. you should only look like that for me, you think, and you want to respond with that thought. but you hold yourself back and decide to laugh it off, masking your odd jealously that looms.

you clear your throat, then respond, “no, just curious. we should take my car over then, just in case you want to leave early.”

“yeah, okay.” mina says, suspicious of your sudden change in mood. “let sana know then, and don’t drink too much, or really anything since you’re driving.”

“you know i’m a heavy weight. three shots and i’m still walking straight, functioning, and able to have fun. don’t worry about me.” you wave your hand and grab your phone. “i’ll ring up sana.” you say, then motion for her to leave the house with you.

-

the walk to the house is not too long, but unfortunately you were too late to bag a spot in the astonishingly large drive way. it was already filled with seven cars, all different brands besides the two honda civics that are next to each other, one red and one black. how generic, and probably driven by men who’d try to hit on you and your friends later.

there’s a fence to the backyard and you easily lift up the metal that prevents the door from opening. you push the door open and mina slides in through the gap, then you slip through and lock it again.

the music was already noticeable before the two of you had actually made it on the property, but now it’s much louder and disturbingly raucous. but that’s just how parties are. there’s a good amount of people in the spacious back yard, maybe fifteen or more – give or take – some are talking in a group with bottles of beer in their hands, two people makeout against the tree in the right corner, and others are cackling while some shirtless guy with a buzzcut and shotguns a can of cheap alcohol. nothing too surpassingly other than the size of the house and yard, pretty normal for everything that’s unfolding.

you lean down a bit to bring your lips to mina’s ear, making sure your voice is heard over the drake that’s playing at a volume that’s surely going to bring noise complaints.

“you okay?” you ask loudly, almost a shout. mina nods, then turns over, her face only inches away from yours. you look down at her lips, and back up to peer into her dark eyes. “we should go inside.” you suggest, mina nods once more.

compared to outside, the house held a lot more people. the kitchen was filled with people getting refills of sodas alcohol, and maybe one or two people ended up with water in their cups — though only those few — the rest of the bunch that crowded the house were either tipsy or drunk out of their minds.

“i think i’m gonna grab a beer or something, text me if you need anything – actually, just call me.”

mina wants to cling onto you the whole night and if anything, she only came in hopes of making you jealous. but here you are, actually indulging in whatever the hell is going on around the two of you. she feels sick to her stomach when she sees you wave goodbye, and prays that you won’t end up like those two girls in the corner of her eye that are eating each others mouths. at least not with anyone but her. fuck.

“hey, it’s you.” mina feels a tap on her shoulder and turns around to face the girl she met in her design class. “i didn’t know you were a party person, didn’t strike me as the type.”

chaeyoung is also wearing a crop top, revealing the various tattoos that decorate her skin. mina liked the tattoos, but all she could think about was the ones you had on your own skin, the ones mina always found herself staring at. her dark hair is messy, yet it suits the younger woman, so does her whole outfit: some crop top and paint splattered jeans.

“you here with anyone?” chaeyoung asks, then takes a sip from her can of beer, mina thinks it’s the rocket pop based on the colors.

“no, you?”

“nah, i came here with a friend though. i think she’s out flirting now though.”

“yeah, i came with a friend too. she’s probably doing the same too.”

“you don’t sound too happy about that.” chaeyoung says, observing the faint disappointment that spreads across mina’s features. “wanna get a drink?”

mina hesitates, then nods. chaeyoung smiles and grabs mina’s hand, leading her to a fridge in the kitchen.

“oh, and by the way,” the younger woman starts, turning to mina. “you look good.”

“thanks.” mina responds.

it’s not that mina doesn’t enjoy chaeyoung’s company, if anything she’s actually really intrigued with her little anecdotes and cute little rambles. mina likes the way chaeyoung giggles with her over some small thing, and mina doesn’t necessarily hate how chaeyoung leans closer to her, the skin-to-skin contact isn’t anything that bothers her. mina simply can’t feel anything for chaeyoung, and it frustrates her because one: chaeyoung is pretty, quite nice on the eyes. that’s something mina can’t deny. two: she’s attentive and sweet, mina know’s this from the times she’s interacted with her before this headache of a party.

she’s just not you.

“you okay?” chaeyoung asks, rubbing her thumb on mina’s hand.

“yeah, i just, um— i need another drink.”

“you’ve had two cans already, and you seem all hazy. you sure you can take it?”

“it’s fine, i’m fine. yes, yeah.”

“okay… careful then. let me go with you.”

“no.” mina says almost immediately, then pauses. “i mean, um, i can go myself. sorry.”

chaeyoung nods, letting go of mina’s hand. “i’ll see you around mina, hope we run into each other again. i liked talking to you.”

“me too, i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay.”

mina leaves chaeyoung on the couch alone, finding her way through the crowd and towards the kitchen to grab something stronger. she does in fact find something stronger in the fridge: some bottle of (most likely) cheap vodka. mina fucking hates vodka, but she also fucking hates that you’ve been plaguing her mind all night. so, mina grabs some small, plastic shot glass and pours herself a quick remedy to her growing disturbance. she shoots her head back and winces, groaning at the stinging taste of it dying down in her throat.

to make matters worse, you only plague her mind further. and to make it even worse (yet again), she catches you in the corner of her eye.

the girl from that day she got mad at you stands awfully close, putting her hand on your chest as she laughs. you only smile and laugh with her, not really paying attention to anything else.

this is the closest you’ve been to the girl, courtney was her name. she’s in your anatomy and has a similar hairstyle to mina, though mina’s looks ten times better. her eyes shine as she looks at you, well, mostly your lips. she smiles and slides her hand around your neck.

“you know, i’ve always thought you were pretty.” she says, “how about we find a spot to be alone?”

“oh,” you say, features shifting into one of confusion. “courtney i don’t— i thought we were just having fun…?”

“don’t be stupid baby,” you wince at the petname, it doesn’t sound right coming from her. she twirls your hair around, it irks you, you definitely don’t like it. “we can have fun if we find a place with a door that has a lock.” and all you can do is laugh awkwardly.

“courtney i don’t—” you look past courtney and towards the familiar girl in the kitchen, making direct eye contact with her and freezing as soon as you realize just who you’re looking at.

mina huffs, frowning at you disappointedly. she shouldn’t be disappointed, but she is.

if only that were her, she thinks.

she bites back a tear, clenching her teeth and shaking her head – which somehow makes her more uneasy than she already is – and starts to walk away. she doesn’t know where she’s going, just as long as it’s less overwhelming and there’s no sight of you with someone that isn’t her.

“shit,” you mumble, and then courtney desperately tries to postpone your departure with small talk, but it’s no use. you speed through the crowd and bump into various bodies as you try to keep mina in your vision, pushing anyone in your way just to find her.

you watch her turn into the hallway and manage to make it to that turn only two seconds later, but by the time you get there she’s already stepping into some room and closing the door. a curse slips from your breath as you run towards the same door a second after it had closed, hitting your fist against it in defeat.

“mina!” you shout – no response. “fuck, mina, please.”

you lean your forehead against it, flattening your hands against the door before you bang on it again.

“please? please mina, i know something is up.”

“go entertain yourself with whoever you were with earlier.” and what the fuck did that mean? you didn’t know. could mina mean courtney? you didn’t want her like that, mina can’t possibly be bothered by her – and, if she were, that wouldn’t make sense. courtney is just a friend, if anything, you wanted mina in her place.

“what does that mean? mina you’re being so—” she cuts you off, opening the door. she’s got that flush, the same one that she did when she lost to sana in that one drinking game a few months back. mina’s not sober, meaning she’s ten times more vulnerable and even moodier, but why? hell, you never know.

“weren’t you enjoying that? that girl, she’s all up on you so why do you run after me.”

“courtney? mina you’re being irrational, she’s just a classmate, a friend i guess. i don’t want her like that.”

“we’re friends and you never look at me like that,” she says, voice being muffled by the music playing in the house. “why don’t you smile at me like that?”

you step inside and close the door, now it’s just you and mina, alone.

“mina what are you saying? i smile at you all the time. are you pissed over a smile?”

“you’re so dense.”

“well i don’t know what the fuck is wrong if you’re not going to fucking tell me mina.” maybe that was harsh, considering the fact that she’s most definitely drunk, but you’re also irritated because she’s been tip toeing around the things that have been pissing her off. “you always tell me what’s bothering you and about your mood swings, but what’s been going on recently? you’ve been so, i don’t know—difficult to read.”

“and you’ve been so dense.” mina scoffs, looking you in the eye. “you flirt and charm all these other girls – any girl – why not me? what’s wrong with me?”

“mina there’s nothing wrong with you. and… you want me to charm you? what does that even—”

“why do you run after me when you don’t even want me like that, why don’t you love me like i love you.”

you halt, watching mina’s bottom lip twitch and brows crease as she looks at you.

“mina,” you begin, shoulders relaxing a bit. “of course i love you.”

“then why do you-“

with no warning, you lean in, capturing her lips with yours and cupping both cheeks with your hands. this is one of the dumbest decisions of the night, undeniably so. reality hits you and you’re pulling away, but mina pulls you back in.

you should stop this, you have to stop this, it can’t be right.

you don’t stop, partially because mina is wrapping her arms around you, keeping you close.

(and mainly because this is what you’ve been needing – dreaming – of for years. you’ll let your morals come back to you later, because right now this contact feels better than anything.)

her hands almost sting from how cold they are when they graze your neck, sliding up to grip your hair. you reciprocate and place your hands on her waist, the music fades out in the background, her back is pressed against the door, and you’re keeping her place as you savor what you’ve daydreamed about countless times.

using the part of your brain that isn’t overtaken by lust, you try to make sure everything is alright after remembering she’s had a drink or two – at least before you indulge again – and that she’s not sober—which is very rare for someone like mina. you pull away first and fight the urge to ruin her right here and right now.

“wait mina—” mina doesn’t give you time to speak, immediately leaping back onto you and locking lips again, whining as she tugs at your hair. she bites your lip slightly, which makes you push her against the door harder, fingers leaving marks in her skin.

there’s too much going on, too much you want to do all at once – mina wants the same.

you pull away successfully, mina doesn’t pull you back in hurriedly this time. her eyes are partially closed, lips puffy, her breath is heavy – chest heaving up and down since she hadn’t gotten the chance to properly catch her breath – and her cheeks are a rosy shade of red.

“y/n…” mina murmurs. her tone is whiny and desperate, and all it urges you to do is close the distance again.

first, you’re exchanging saliva as you slide your tongue in, sloppily making out as you shift mina over to the counter of the bathroom sink. her moans are muffled as you kiss her and it leaves you ravenous, wanting to hear it clearly. the two of you indulge in each other, just as you’ve been craving for years.

you fall to her jaw, then the soft skin of her neck, spending your time marking it up and tending to it how you’ve been wanting to. no, needing to.

mina grips your shoulder tight and her head tilts back as her lips part. it’s odd, this is what you’ve been craving, but there’s a uneasy feeling in your stomach and it’s not from anything you’ve consumed.

“shit,” you murmur, partially because mina’s tugging at your hair again, but mainly because the realization hits you: mina’s under the influence. “what am i doing.”

the spell she’s casted on you by giving you the taste of her lips finally wore off, it takes a good amount of self-restraint to pull away one last time – and this time it’s for real, you don’t dive back into her pool of temptation – though you linger a moment, lips dangerously close to the skin just above the crook of her neck.

again, you look at her: hair messy, eyes now opening, and a pout plastered on her face.

“y/n… please, keep going.” you can’t, you know better than to keep going, despite how bad you want it.

“we should get going, minari.”

“but i need you, please.” fuck. fucking shit. you want her too, more than words can tell.

“mina…” you start, bringing a hand to cup her cheek. she leans into the touch, not hesitating for a second. mina’s beautiful, you know that. she’s against the counter of the bathroom and the only thing you can really notice right is how beautiful she is despite the music from outside getting louder. it’s strange – time slows down for a moment.

your fingers push the strands of hair that messily frame her face behind her ear and she frowns harder. against a canvas of flushed cheeks and pale skin, her eyes radiate an ethereal luminescence under the glow of the bathroom light. exuding an ineffable brilliance. her eyes, wow, her eyes are pretty in the moment. they’re staring at you and captivating your senses, holding you captive as you try to fight everything telling you to go on with your desires.

“you drank lots, didn’t you?” you ask, laughing a little to shake off your nerves. two beers is the equivalent of “lots” for mina. enough to make her all hazy and cuddly. “let’s go.” you insist, “home isn’t far and i can drive. i only had a can of beer, and i have work in the afternoon.”

“why can’t you just— fuck, y/n, i just—“

“we can talk when you’re sober.”

mina mumbles something under her breath, the sound of her voice thin and vulnerable. you hold her hand and squeeze it gently before letting out a breath.

“stay close, you were stumbling earlier.” you insist, “keep my hand in yours, ‘kay?”

you don’t let mina respond and instead, you’re out the door with her hand in yours trying to find your way out of the overwhelming atmosphere. trying to get yourselves home so you can compose yourself in an environment that isn’t making your skull pulse.

momo is dancing with sana, heat radiating off the both of them as their mutual allure drags them closer and the alcohol kicks in. momo’s eyes are only on sana, that is until she catches two familiar figures struggling to pass by the crowd blocking the door.

your hand slides down and snakes around mina’s waist, keeping her ever closer as you swim through the crowd and towards the door. sana looks at momo, who’s looking in a different direction, then turns to see what’s up with whatever is going on. “whatever is going on” is something that has sana smiling cheekily, giggling and then turning back to momo.

“you see it too?” voice low yet audible as sana speaks into momo’s ear, lips brushing against the lobe. “i wonder if they had any fun. most likely, knowing how y/n is.”

“mm, maybe,” momo mumbles, distracted by the woman placing a hand on her chest. momo gulps, then faces sana fully and smirks. “maybe… they’ve never been that close, touchy yeah but…” momo shakes her head. her hand slides to the curve of her waist and pinches just barely, just enough for sana to gasp. “let’s find out tomorrow and find out way to the bathroom instead, hm?”

sana smiles, nodding eagerly before they find their way out the crowd and into the same bathroom you and mina had been in.

it takes a few at least ten curses under your breath before you reach the door, opening it and slipping past like you had done before with the entrance to the backyard – though this time, none of you are afraid of being close.

mina is following you, your hand still on her waist – holding onto her even though it’s not necessary – and leading her to the car.

another small curse slips your lips while looking for your keys, scared that you’ve lost them throughout your late night rendezvous. luckily, they’re shoved in one of your pockets, you sigh out a breath of relief as you press the small unlocked logo.

you help mina get into the passengers seat, then close the door for her and get into the drivers seat yourself. once you close your own door, you reach over mina and grab her seatbelt, invading her personal bubble with your own body. mina watches you with tired eyes, watches you grab the end and fasten her seatbelt with a click of the locks. before you lean back into your space, mina stops you, putting a hand on your shoulder.

she presses her lips to your temple – sloppily and sweetly – then leans back into her seat, closing her eyes.

you huff, then your lips curve--? turn? they display something that’s something in between a frown and smile, something that shows both at the same time, even if it sounds impossible.

the engine starts, you turn to look at mina once more, then drive.

-

hangovers are not for the weak, and they’re surely not for mina.

mina wakes up and it feels like she’s gotten run over countless times in the head. she groans and sinks into her matress more, hugging the pillow in her arms and then groaning once more – if the first, annoyed one wasn’t enough already.

she tries to recall everything from last night, only remembers a brief image of chaeyoung and a beer in her hand; and then everything else. everything.

it’s like being hit by a life-threatening gust of wind that’s trying to knock you over and over, it hits all at once and keeps bombarding you more and more and more. each gust is worse than the one before. it feels like being stuck in the middle of the sea while waves keep crashing and crashing and crashing against you. that’s how mina feels when the memories come piling back.

she remembers the push and pull – desperate fingers clawing at cloth or skin, lips parting so the two of you oculd catch your breaths – she remembers the sensation of it all – her shoulder blades meeting the material of the door – the chill of the material making her shiver – your tongue against her own, the teeth nipping at her skin, and shit she even remembered the smell of your perfume: amber and vanilla. she could seriously lose herself in that fragrance if it meant being that close to you again.

mina jumps when she hears three knocks, groggily rubbing her eyes before seeing someone her bedroom door. her eyes are squinty, but the figure is unmistakable. mina feels her cheeks burn again, and now she’s figuring out that they always grow warm whenever you’re around.

“hey… morning.” you greet softly, smiling. “i um, i have work soon. i just wanted to let you know there’s advil and vitamins on your bedside before i left. figured you’d need it.”

“t-thank you.” mina stutters embarrassingly. “y/n i’m sorr—”

“let’s talk about it later. just take your time, you have work later, right?”

“shit,” she mutters, closing her eyes tight and pinching the bridge of her nose. “yeah.”

“i’ll be home later, you should ask momo to take you.”

“i’ll do that, yeah.” mina answers. she watches you nod awkwardly, and then without a word; you leave.

--

mina calls momo later, later as in 12 o’clock pm because there’s no way momo would ever be up before then on a saturday – especially not after a party with sana around. still, momo answers tiredly, voice all stuffy and low.

“mina it’s so fucking early can we please—”

“come, now.” mina orders, “i’m tired too but i really need to talk to you and i’m saying this as in it’s urgent. you know it is if i’m begging like this. momo please come, now.”

she hears momo groan on the other end of the line, a few seconds of silence pass before momo answers: “give me ten.”

“thanks.”

momo gets to the apartment in thirty minutes and mina answers the door, making the older woman look at her shockingly. mina’s hair is disheveled with some strands loosely having a mind of their own. her eyes peer at momo tiredly, and she’s wearing an oversized tee with pajama pants to finish the “i just got out of bed and no hangover remedy could fix the headache i have” look.

“um, morning sunshine?” momo tries. mina turns and walks over to the couch, landing on it exhaustedly. momo follows over and sits down in the space next to her, watching her stare up at the ceiling.

“i think—no, yeah we definitely…” the younger woman starts, shutting her eyes. “there’s a hickey on my neck and i know it’s from last night. i remember, vaguely – but also so much at the same time.”

momo deadpans. “mina what the fuck are you saying.”

mina practically breaks her neck trying to lift it up just to glare at momo. “y/n gave me the hickey.”

“holy shit mina, that’s great! so you guys fuc-“

“no. i think we just… madeout.” mina sounds dissapointed when she says it, and she definitely is. “y/n’s being distant and i’m just—scared i ruined everything.”

the younger woman groans again, then leans back against the cushion. momo watches and moves over to sit criss-cross on the couch now, pulling mina by the wrists to sit her up. “stop moping, you kissed her. you’ve been complaining to me like, ages about her.”

“what if she regrets it?”

“i doubt it. maybe y/n is just worried that you regret it, i mean, you seemed pretty fucked last night.”

“i wish i were.” it slips out of mina’s mouth, momo tilts her head in surprise, this isn’t something mina would say, ever – at least out loud. “don’t start.” mina warns, glaring at her friend.

“i wasn’t going to.” momo assures, putting her hands up in defense. “maybe you should talk to her, she’s picking you up after work today, right?”

fuck.

“yeah.”

“perfect. good time to bond then.” momo chirps – mina deadpans, then collapses into the cushions again.

“i can count on both hands how many years we’ve known each other, i just can’t lose her.”

“you won’t. don’t worry, everything will be fine.”

-

mina’s worrying, and everything is not fine.

mina cannot take her mind off of you, the night before, and just you in general. it’s you you you you you running through her mind as she collects tips from the old couple in the corner of the restaurant. even as they compliment mina’s features she can’t help but think of you. it’s only you, you’re plaguing her mind even worse than how you did while she was all hot and heavy.

you tap at the wheel anxiously with your pointer and middle finger – a habit you’ve developed as soon as you had gotten your license at seventeen – as you wait for mina. the restaurant closes at 10, but mina’s leaving at seven because she can’t do closing shifts, you remember her rambles and complaints. you remember everything about her.

work had been as rough for you as it had been for mina, just the thought of her pulling you closer, bruising your lips, and just her drove you crazy. it took everything in you to function normally as people would come up to you asking where a certain book was in the library you worked at or if you could renew their copy of who fucking knows what novel.

your head shoots up when you see a familiar figure step out from the entrance to the restaurant. she pats down her clothes and adjusts the bag that hangs from her shoulders. mina looks at you through the window and you simply smile at her, fixing your posture. she smiles back and walks towards the car, then gets into the passengers seat.

you greet her like you always do: “hey.”

“hi.”

“how was work?”

“busy, but good tips.” she says, putting on her seatbelt and desperately trying to compose herself. “how was your work?”

“good, good. just the usual.”

“could be worse.”

“yeah.” she responds. there’s a short silence that sits in the air and that urges you to start driving. mina looks forward, but still, she can see you shifting the stick with your hands – the hands that were leaving mina breathless.

the car ride is silent, deathly silent.

sure, carrides back to the apartment after mina’s shifts have always been pretty nonverbal, but at least a few jokes and anecdotes were shared. the only thing shared is the silence, it makes you grip the wheel tight and has mina facing out her window.

“did you um, eat yet?”

“yeah, did you?”

“yeah… jonathan gave me half his sandwich before i clocked out.”

“good.”

“yeah.”

you reach the apartment complex after the most apprehensive car ride you’ve ever been in – which says a lot, considering the fact that you’ve been in a car driven by sana. not the best experience ever, she’s definitely a passenger princess, and should stay one.

the engine stops, you two get out the car at the same time – no words exchanged, but you’re both thinking the same thing – and then you hold out your hand so mina can give you her bag, just like always. the two of you head into the complex with you following behind mina, then up the stairs to your shared place.

the tension is cleared for a moment, mina watches you fish for the keys in your hoodie pocket, only for you to drop them on the floor and curse under your breath. mina laughs, you laugh with her and this is the first time you two have shared eye contact since last night, probably.

“you’re so clumsy, always.” mina snickers, looking at you with a gummy smile. you roll your eyes and put the key into the lock, twisting it right and responding,

“shut up.” you say in a tone of fake annoyance.

the door opens and you step inside, mina follows behind. your shoulders sink, untensing as soon as you close it again.

“i’m sorry, i made a move while you were drunk and if i hadn’t controlled myse—”

“shut up.” mina orders, using one hand to pull you close by the wrist and the other hand immediately slides to the back of your neck as she closes the distance again.

mina kisses you first this time, and now both your senses are fully there, no alcohol to fuck any of you over this time. you almost stumble backwards from how ttaken aback you are, but shortly after the contact you’re kissing her with the same force.

you drop the bag in your hand – it’ll be tomorrows problem, it’s not that big of a deal anyway – and cup her cheeks, slowly inching forward towards any surface that’ll keep you two from fucking on the floor right then and there. where’s the fun when there’s no action building up to everything?

mina’s feels the marble of the counter in the kitchen above her waist as you push her against it. her hands find the edge and grip onto it tightly as your hands start to roam down the curve of her hips. mina’s tugging at your hair and it earns a small whine from you, and then she’s swiping her tongue against your bottom lip since it’s the only way to ask you to sloppily make out with her without pulling away for too long.

it’s actually not that sloppy, it’s like your tongues know each other already, they accustom to each other almost immediately. minutes – it feels like hours – pass and you pull away to glance at her for a moment; cheeks? flushed. pupils? taking over mina’s eyes completely from how dilated they are. your lips? oh, they’re craving more of the woman trapped between your arms right now.

your lips fall to her jaw, pressing feathery kisses that leave her breath shaky. when mina thinks it can’t get any better, you take your time tending to her neck – which, is too empty for your liking – sucking, nipping, doing anything that’ll make her have to wear a scarf, your hoodie, or extra foundation the next morning.

as you mark up her skin, she blindly reaches to take off the jacket you’re wearing, and you reach for the end of her black shirt that she has on, then slide it off her figure.

you eye her up and down, lingering on her chest. “fuck, fuck i want to leave you a mess.”

“do it then.”

“gladly.” you say. mina feels a pulse in between her legs.

the two of you make it to mina’s room and leave pieces of clothing out on the way. mina grows louder with each kiss, and you grow touchier.

she pushes you through the door – you make sure to quickly turn on the lights so you can get a good view of her the whole night – and then her hand is on your chest, pushing you down on the bed. you prop yourself up with both hands, watching her take off her black pants and then making her way to your lap.

you can’t help but smirk at her, smirk at the exposed skin, the new territory, the groove down her abdomen, everything. she’s grinding on your lap and it feels like a dream, but it isn’t, not when you’re hyperaware of your hand sliding up the smooth skin of mina’s ribs, hyperaware of all the contact, the heavy breaths, the shaky ones, mina’s arms around your neck.

“my bra, take it off.” she orders. of course you’ll comply, it’s mina telling you this after all.

you slide your hands over her skin and feel her shiver against you, then you unhook her bra, sliding it off and throwing it somewhere around the room.

“fuck,” is all you can say. mina’s topless, she’s on your lap, straddling you, and you give up on trying to savor anything because all it’ll do is make you short circuit. it’s all so much to handle, far too much for you, so mina helps you out while she watches you amusingly.

“just gonna check me out? how about you use that mouth of yours again baby.”

“yeah.”

mina moans as soon as you indulge in her tits. she trembles as your hold on her tightens, as you swirl your tongue around her nipple, and as your other hand stimulates her other breast. she grinds against you, trying to ease the tension down in her soaked pussy, but it’s no use. she thinks she might cum just from you tending to her chest, and honestly she could—she might.

but you won’t let her reach her high that easily, not so quick. you need to savor everything—well as much as your overwhelmed brain can — because this is mina.

“so,” you kiss her breast once more, then pull away with a slight ‘pop’ sound. “fucking pretty.”

she throws her head back as you trail back up to hee neck, sinking your teeth until you get the faint hint of blood on your taste buds.

“i’ve been wanting to do this for years.”

mina’s breathless. “hnghh— yeah, fuck y/n, me too—“

you stand up slowly snd hold onto mina, who’s still straddling you. her legs wrap around your waist and she lets out a sharp breath as you turn over and set her down on her back. you stand in between her legs, then brush a finger over her nipple while running a hand down her stomach. her skin twitches as you trail down to her underwear, sliding two fingers under the rim of it and pulling it off.

“you’re so pretty mina, always have been.” you mumble, brushing your fingers over the sensitive area. “bet you sound even prettier when im going down on you.”

“y/n,” mina gasps, watching you lower yourself so that you face her cunt — it’s aching, it’s craving. “please.”

you kiss the inside of her thighs lovingly. “if you say so.”

mina’s hand grips at the sheets tightly as soon as your lips meet where she needs, a loud moan reverberates around the room. you work at her pussy with your mouth at first, eating her out at more relaxed pace since this is your first time with her. when mina ruts her hips and pushes your tongue further into her, you quicken the pace and add a finger in.

“oh fuck y/n, ngh— keep going, don’t stop.”

she twitches and jerks around the more you fuck her, a plethora of whiny moans of your name leaving her mouth. another finger is added in, plunging in and curling at the spot that makes mina’s hand immediately move to your head, gripping your hair tightly as she loses her voice.

“c’mon, gonna cum soon?”

“y-yeah, fuck i’m so, fuck, so close.”

you reach up for mina’s hand, accidentally meeting her wrist but then finding her fingers and intertwining them with your own. mina’s thighs close around your head slightly, making you groan into her lazily. then, mina moans loudly, so loud and it sounds like a near cry. her thighs tremble around you, and she holds your hand tightly as her chest heaves up and down.

you slow down your pace, taking your fingers out and savoring mina’s essence with your tongue. she’s sweet and warm, you’re drunk on her arousal. the repeated murmurs of your name ring throughout the room like a song you could listen to and never get tired of. her grip loosens and you pull away, climbing up the beauty of mina’s body and leaving kisses as you make your way up to her jawline.

she lazily puts her hand on your neck, then gradually pushes her fingers into your scalp as you kiss her lips. she tastes herself off you, then hums once she’s satisfied.

when you pull away she’s looking at you with hooded eyes, putting her hand on your cheek and rubbing her thumb against your warm skin.

“everything okay?” you ask, and mina just kisses you.

“i’m tired.” she mumbles against your lips after a peck, “stay and sleep here.”

“i didn’t plan on leaving.” you say, laughing lightly. “let’s clean up a little, okay?”

mina nods and kisses you again, letting herself sink into the cushion as you run your hands down the side of her body.

-

the morning after is so normal it’s as if you two have been fucking ever since you moved in together.

there’s some morning pillow talk that consists of you groaning into mina’s bare skin and her teasing you for being so tired. her hands massage your scalp and your lips kiss the skin that covers her ribs. her cheeks flush.

“do you have work?” she asks, voice low and tired.

“no, do you?”

“no.” she mutters, “let’s sleep in.”

“okay.” you say. you weakly lift yourself up so you can lay your head on her shoulder. “how long have you been wanting to do that?”

she turns around so you’re spooning her, then lazily moves your hand over with her own so that your arm is over her body. you pull her closer and she answers, “sophomore year.”

“highschool?”

“yeah.”

you laugh. “why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“you were too busy getting attention from other girls.” mina says annoyingly, though she scoots back so she’s closer to you. “didn’t want to waste my time waiting in line.”

“you should’ve skipped the line.” you feel for her hand and hold it, linking your fingers together. “i’ve liked you since middle school and you never noticed.”

if mina weren’t half asleep she would’ve had a bigger reaction, she’d be punching your shoulder and scolding you for being such a coward for not telling her. but what use is it when she’s already living the scene she’s been dreaming about for years. your breath is warm on her skin and she’s too content to yell at you.

mina yawns. “well it’s all figured out now, sleep.”

you kiss her shoulder and smile. “okay.”

[syrma-sensei]

→ Hush Hush Behind The Shield.

gif credit.

pairing: soldier boy/ben x wife!reader.

rating: explicit.

warnings: vought's ungodly shenanigans, mentions of cheating, couple fighting, angst, misogyny, antiquated mentality, dub-con, power imbalance, fingering, forced orgasms, angry sex, cock riding...

word count: 3.4k

summary: being america's greatest hero's wife has its perks, but they don't come for free...

taglist: @zepskies, @deansbbyx, @kaleldobrev, @k-slla, @deanbrainrotwritings, @deans-spinster-witch, @venus-haze, @thebiggerbear...

A/N: I'd like to thank my two pretty moots, @kaleldobrev who's been always there for me, listening to mental blurbs and chaotic spews of unhinged ideas and continuous mind dump ❤️ and @zepskies who bares my energy, which can be a bit much, each time I spam her dms with life cringing memes and awaful reacts ❤️

Kneeling down on one knee, your mitted hands hoisted the oven door close as you hummed a melody to yourself. Turning on your heels, you stood up and gave the dining table a once-over before allowing a proud grin slip on your lips.

“Perfect.”

Then your eyes glanced at your watch. It was half an hour past seven in the evening. Perfect. There'd be enough time to pamper yourself in a relaxing shower and spruce up with no rush before your husband was home.

You gave the dining room another glimpse to make sure everything was in place before you headed to the bathroom upstairs, walking through the living room where the T.V. displayed a Soldier Boy anti-drugs commercial.

A snore escaped your nose upon hearing the phrase: “Just say no.” Remembering how your husband threw a fit behind the scenes at how stupid it was, to the point of getting Stan Edgar himself on the line for him to find an alternative to it. Because no way he was saying that shit.

“God, I sounded like a fucking douchebag,” He'd told you in his dressing room, a smouldering reefer hanging between his lips — the irony, after they wrapped filming up.

You'd giggled, playfully plucking it from his lips to take a drag of your own, “No, baby, you did just fine.” You purred, and his mouth curled up into a small grin, “The public needs that y'know…” You tipped his chin up, your polished, long nails grazed lightly to his skin, “You're America's golden son, right? You're the man everyone should look up to.”

“Damn sure they should.” He'd chuckled, leaning down for a kiss which you gladly welcomed.

Being Soldier Boy's wife came with many many perks, but it also had its downsides, one of which was to have to deal with his short temper. But what could you say? You loved the man. Ardently so; you literally fought the world to have him all for yourself despite Vought's disapproval of your nuptial.

You savoured the victory when you married Ben in a small ceremony without Vought's blessing. It was like a slap to them when Ben imparted upon them the happy news, he delivered them a severe black eye, especially the vainglorious bastard Edgar. Who had once told you that you and Ben wouldn't work out, for it was simply "inconvenient" for a superhero like Soldier Boy to be involved in a serious relationship with a mere… human; it'd be a "disappointment" in the public eye, as he put it. Like he had a say in the matter.

But here you were, with a ring on your left hand to swagger about, and happily married to America's first hero, Edgar and Vought could say hello to your middle finger.

To nobody's surprise, you resented Vought, and held such abhorrence against them for not letting you and your husband live the life you wanted for yourselves. Despite your personal efforts, your proclaimed triumph was soon cut short because Vought declined to go public and endorse your marriage. Not that you and your husband gave two shits about their approval, but the rules were rules. And their lawyers affirmed that a public exposure of your marriage might damage Soldier Boy's rep, therefore, Vought's; given the fact that you were more than thirty years younger than him. They couldn't have it said that the hero of heroes was a creep even though they'd tried to conceal his age when he and Phoebe Cates starred in Love And War because it started to seem fishy. It was expected, though. But what you didn't see coming was Ben's response, or lack of response as to put it.

Despite being even more obdurate about this marriage than yourself. You felt terribly abjured by your husband. You'd thought he'd fight for you, for what you both had, and he'd want to let the world know about you. It'd broken your heart when it dawned upon you that Ben wouldn't risk his fame and glory for anyone, for you. Reluctantly, you bit the bullet, you had to, for him, because you loved him, and would do anything to keep this marriage intact. If you had to compromise for it, then so be it. You didn't care.

To your solace, Ben never changed after the frustrating incident; he was still the man you fell in love with. He might be smug, crass, and insufferable to everyone but you could still perceive the tender side he had though he'd never actually admit it, and you never pushed him too much. You were subtle enough to know when to stroke his ego and when to tease it. He was a man, after all. But it was obvious; he was a doting husband who cherished you in his own way. He showered you with gifts, and pampered you when he could. And he was eager to have babies with you. He never ceased to express how rapturous he would be if he were to have a son. A child with you.

Sure, you had your own qualms about that particular day, and there was more than a time you wanted to have a conversation with him about it. But you couldn't bring yourself to screw it up with stupid doubts. If Ben hadn't truly loved you, he wouldn't have treated you the way he did, he wouldn't have brought you to his workplace to have you at his side — and to poke Vought's eye every single time. He wouldn't have let you in and told you about his family and his dad, about his fucked-up childhood and how he became a hero.

No, your bond was bigger than any fleeting thoughts of incredulity.

You crooned softly as you wrapped a towel around your body after you finished your shower. Stepping out, you rubbed your hair with another towel and made your way down towards the kitchen to check on the pie.

Oh, Ben liked pies. You found it amusing how he'd swallow a whole pie alone and wouldn't affect him one bit; a supe sure required a lot of calories. Sometimes, you wished you had his great metabolism.

The moreish scent of baked dough and chocolate told you it was ready. You opened the oven door with a protected hand and placed the delicious pie by the window to let it cool down while you dressed up.

On your way back to your bedroom, you padded through the living room again. Your eyes glanced fleetingly at the screen only to stop abruptly in your tracks. A slight frown made it to your face as you saw a picture of Ben and Crimson Countess together. You never liked Countess. Something about her always disturbed you, and your guts were right.

Your eyes roamed the headline over and over, dilating in stupor.

Breaking News: Soldier Boy and Crimson Countess are officially together, Vought announced.

You shook your head in disbelief, hand grasping the remote control from the couch, shivering fingers shuffling through the channels.

Soldier Boy finally found the one!

Your heart paced up with each press.

A long awaited power couple is now here!

Vought just shocked the world by—

And here's Soldier Boy and Countess's statement…

It was hard to quell your simmering anger when you saw your husband smiling face with that bitch between his arms. Camera flashes and clicks swarmed around them with an entourage of reporters and interviewers.

“Hey, Soldier Boy, now you're together, what can you tell us about the first time you saw Countess? Was it love at first?” A reporter asked.

Ben scratched his beard with his gloved hand, drawling “First time I met Tess was when Vought concocted a hero collab years ago, remember that honey?”

You did remember that event very clearly. You were still Ben's secret girlfriend at the time, and it was exclusive to superheroes, yet Ben brought you there as his date.

Ben grinned as if dreamily reminiscing about the memory as he continued, “And lemme tell ya one thing, this one is a firecracker.”

Countess giggled playfully, gazing up at your husband in the most flirtatious way, it made you gag with disgust.

You scoffed bitterly at the blatant lies spurting right in your face. That specific night, Ben had childishly grumbled and complained about how much he wanted to be out of there. And to spice things up, he playfully dragged you from the pristine hall the event took place in, and fucked you raw against one of the wall of some other hall, keeping your panties as a souvenir for the rest of the soirée. He kept teasing you through the entire night, riling and messing you up. At the time, it was thrilling and venturous. Now, however, it knotted at the tip of your stomach. His focus that day was solely on you. He wasn't even aware of the bitch's presence for all you care.

“And when I first saw her… knew she was the one….”

You couldn't comprehend what Ben said after that point as a deafening buzz bolted through your ears. Tears rolled down your cheeks, and soon they were streaming from your eyes as you stood numb on your spot. Your tears splattered on the ground along with your heart.

“Honey, I'm home.” Ben announced once he stepped in the house. He sighed, putting his shield down and making his way to the kitchen where you usually would be, making his dinner. He didn't take his boots off though he knew you'd throw a fit about it, but let's just say that teasing and screwing with you was his favourite hobby. His anticipating grin soon dropped and a small scowl knitted his brows when an odd mixture of scents wafted into his nose. His eyes dilated at the unusual messy scene in the kitchen; the table was flipped over, glass splints scattered all over the floor, freshly-cooked food covering the carpet beneath the dining table, and a chocolate pie was squashed into the wall.

With a pacing heart, Ben cried your name, and hurriedly climbed up the stairs. His feet darted to the bedroom when he heard you sniffling and weeping.

An audible sigh of relief flouted out of chest when he saw you. Your hair was wet and a damp towel wrapped around your body, but his eyebrow quirked up when he noticed you packing a bag on the bed. The fuck?

“(Y/N), the fuck is going here?” You scared the shit outta me. He wanted to say, after the shitty day he had, he just wanted to have you in his arms and play with your hair.

You startled for a moment when you heard his southern accent. You used to be fond of it, but today you were certainly not.

“I'm leaving.” Your answer came out curt, your hands tugging your bag zippers close.

You heard his footsteps getting closer until you felt his hand on your bare shoulder, “What happened to you, sweetheart?”

You pulled yourself away from his hold, hissing, “Don't you fucking touch me!”

He didn't seem to heed your warning as he reached a hand to your face. Gritting your teeth, you spun around with your hand ready to deliver a slap to his cheek. However, and no matter how fast and pissed you were, he was always quicker and alerter. Fucking supe.

“You don't get to touch me ever again you asshole!” You shrieked, yanking your wrist from his grasp, your wet hair stuck to your face, chest heaving with each breath. 

“The fuck is wrong with you, woman?!” He growled with a deep scowl, “Just left you all happy and giggling in the morning, is it here? Your time of the month again?”

“Fuck you!” You spat, clenched hands rising up to his chest, “You're my fucking problem,” You jabbed a fist to chest, though he didn't move an inch, but damn didn't it feel good! You blew another punch to his stupidly firm chest again and again.

“Fucking Christ!” He grumbled, and with one strong arm, Ben wrangled your back against his chest and caged you in his steel hold, one hand securing both of your wrists above your head, “Calm the fuck down!”

Legs kicking and hands tugging, you tried to wriggle out of his arms but to no avail, you felt so helpless against his raw strength. Your anger and frustration poured out of your mouth in a wailing, broken voice, “Leave. Me. Alone!” You bellowed, “Go to your fucking Crimson Bitch!” Two rivulets of tears drizzled from your eyes again, “Go to your fucking Tess and let her fire-crack your nuts, you fucking pussy!”

“Christ on a cross, do you hear yourself talk, woman?!”

His eyes widened before his eyebrows scrunched deeply. He took you off guard when he brought you down to the floor as he crouched on one knee. Your towel unwrapped at the sudden movement and you were naked beneath his eyes. His hands were still holding you in place.

Two green eyes regarded you softly, “You really took that marketing shit for real?” He thumbed your lower lip, and his free hand trailed down your naked form. “Fucking hell, thought you were way smarter than that, sweetheart.” You shivered from both the cold and his touch, his sinful reaching your mound, “You really think I'd fucking leave you for her?”

You couldn't suppress the moan when he stroked your throbbing clit. A shot of arousal seeped out of your opening much to Ben's satisfaction. Anger made the colour of your face rise, “Fuck you! Fuck your bitch! Fuck Vought!” You spat, your eyes burning holes into his as he proceeded toying with your flesh until your voice broke, “Y-You want me to buy your shit — Ah!” Two of his thick and expert digits entered your slit, massaging your love spots thoroughly. “After you didn't stand up for our marriage?!” You groaned, hips rolling to the rhythm of his fingers.

“Is that so?” His brow quirked up amusedly. Was this funny to this bastard? Was your marriage some kind of a joke to him?

You gasped as he deliberately hit your weak spot; sweet, delightful coils fluttered at the tip of your stomach, “I was under the fucking impression that you had your pretty, little head wrapped around how this fucking business worked!” He snarled.

“Fuck you! I hate you!” Your body snapped as you came abundantly on his fingers which made him grin slyly down at you.

You felt his grip on your wrists loosen, so you took your window and jerked yourself free. He was shocked when you pushed him down on the floor and straddled his hips, your dripping cunt was drenching his pants with your cum. He raised a playful brow at you but soon was replaced by a shocked frown when you slapped his irritatingly handsome face.

“Fucking hell, you fucking little ballbuster—”

You shushed him with a finger on his lips, “You're fucking mine, Benjamin, you hear me! You're fucking mine!” You hissed, having no idea where your vigour came from as you tore his shirt off of his chest. His length poked you when you gazed with searing fire in your eyes at his, “You. Belong. To. Me.” You furiously tucked his pants and boxers down, his cock springing out with life.

A wanton moan came off your lips as you sunk yourself down his cock, whereas he grumbled in pleasure as you hugged him tightly with your wet and warm insides.

You snapped your hips harshly and he growled, “Fuck, doll—!”

Another snap, your voice was laboured, “I own you. You're married not to that whore, not to Vought, but to me!”

Your skin slammed against his meat vehemently as you gritted your teeth when another orgasm was spiralling in your body. You paced up your movement, a hand banging demandingly on his chest, “Say it! You're fucking mine!”

“Holy shit!” You watched his eyes roll backwards as he rasped, “Yours, babe,”

“Holy fuck, Ben! Ben, I'm coming again!”

That was his cue to take control again. He sat up, cradling you in his warm hold, “Cum to me, babe, fucking soak my cock.” You wabled his name, clinging to his shoulders as your climax stormed out of your body like a mad hurricane. You whimpered pathetically when his two large hands on your hips kept making you ride him through your high.

“Fucking stupid girl,” He growled, shooting his seed up your insides.

With laboured breaths, you glared at each other. You felt his cock softening inside of you, “Fucking idiot man.” You scoffed.

He chuckled with a boyish grin on his sweaty face, “That was fucking hot, think I like this wild side of you, darlin'”

You snickered, “You bet, wait until you see what I'm gonna do with that little fuck, Edgar.”

Ben rumbled a deep chortle, much to your annoyance, would this man ever take you seriously? “I swear to fucking Christ, Ben, if they—you don't break off that stupid shit with Countess and go public about us, I'll fucking burn that fucking tower to the fucking ground, because I'm fucking done with this—mhmmm!”

He cut you off with a scorching kiss and its heat made you thaw against his lips. His cock twitched inside of you.

“Jealousy looks pretty on you though, sweetheart” He teased, his lips brushing to yours.

God, damn this man and his endless ego! “Ben!” You nudged him playfully.

“Can't wait to see you wanting to snatch some ladies' heads off when we go to balls together.”

You smiled at him, biting on your bottom lip. The idea of finally being acknowledged as Ben's wife warmed your heart, and his willingness to do so made your heart race. However, disturbing thoughts loomed in your head again, “Think Vought will let us be?” You asked with hesitation. Fuck, that shit really got too deep into you.

He rolled his eyes, “Try not to work your pretty head hard 'bout this, doll,” He tucked a tress of your hair behind your ear, “The man who fucking beat the Nazis can handle some sweaty fucknuts at Vought.” There was something warmly reassuring about his smugness.

“See? All that shit wouldn't happen if you didn't stay silent while they fucking tried to play their fucking game!”

Ben chuckled, “Well, the fucking was totally worth it.”

You groaned in frustration, “Ben… I thought you abandoned me.”

Your husband furrowed his brows at you, “You women hardly think sometimes, don't you?” You scowled at his remark but he sighed, cradling your cheeks in his warm hands, “I fucking fought to make you my wife. I fucking put my whole career and name at risk for you.” You blinked at him, “The day before we tied our knot, I fucking told the boardroom that I was marrying you, that I'd fucking walk off if they tried anything funny… they didn't, till fucking today.” He sighed, “They fucking announced that bullshit before I was even told.”

“Assholes,” You whispered.

“After that pathetic act, I fucking stormed to Edgar like I stormed Normandy. Let's say that he and I did a little bit of chatting,” He gave you a conceited smirk, giving you no detail of how he got scared shitless when he saw the mess in the kitchen. He thought Vought dared to fucking do something to you. And when he heard you cry he feared the worst. But of course, he wouldn't tell you anything about that. Because he was the fucking man of this house; if his feelings of fear appeared, the sense of security he provided to this house, to you, would crumble. And he wouldn't have that. Ever.

You, on the other hand, had a weird combination of pride and happiness sprouted within your chest.

“I'm so sorry, Ben…” You said, cupping his face in your hands, “I-I don't know what came over me when I saw you with her,” You couldn't even say her name.

“Couldn't have your man stolen away, could you?” He teased you.

“Never.” You answered, “And I'm sorry for what happened, husband.”

“I mean you did make it up for me, wife,” He flashed you a cheeky grin, “Though, I don't feel particularly in a forgiving mood… yet.”

Head tilting to the side, your raised an eyebrow, rolling your hips teasingly on his cock, “Don't push your luck…”

“Try me.”

[captain-hawks]

matsukawa + dark green? (love your colour theory drabbles so much they're giving me so much life 🩷)

(thank you so much<3!!!)

issei matsukawa x reader

c: fluff, pining, best friend!mattsun, matsukawa's sexy hands

“You good?”

Amusement glints in Matsukawa’s eyes as his hand stills, the large knife held in his grip lodged deep in the belly of the watermelon that sits atop the cutting board. 

The back of your neck prickles with the heat of embarrassment as you tear your gaze away from the surface of the counter—from the sight of his other hand that’s splayed wide against the smooth surface of the fruit. The way the veins on the back of it flex as he holds it steady while a stream of sticky juice trails between his knuckles and down his wrist. 

“We’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry up,” you evasively reply, wiggling the large plastic container that the watermelon cubes will be going in. 

He shrugs, casually lifting the side of his wrist to his mouth and licking away the juice, and you bite down on the inside of your cheek to stifle the sound that threatens to crawl up your throat. 

You’ve been friends with Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki for ages, but you've always been closest with Mattsun. And as teen years of friendship flourished into your twenties, so has the undeniable flutter of attraction that beats persistently in your chest for your best friend. It’s a problem that’s blossomed tenfold as of late, now that the two of you are both single for the first time since high school. 

While you’ve prided yourself on your ability to mostly compartmentalize these inconvenient feelings to the best of your ability—despite how difficult it is when you spend nearly all of your free time together—it’s this stupid fucking watermelon of all things that will now be your undoing, it seems. 

Your apartment is a block away from Mattsun and Makki’s place, so your joint trip to the grocery store today to pick up food for Oikawa’s barbecue wasn’t abnormal in the slightest.

But the absolutely unhinged bolt of arousal that suddenly slithered its way down your spine without warning when you found him casually lifting up watermelons and inspecting them in the produce area? The way your toes curled in your sneakers as you watched him slide his large palms along each one to inspect it for a promising yellow spot? 

The fact that you had to feign passionate interest in the bulbs of garlic beside you to hide how you nearly choked on your spit when you saw the way his long fingers spread and slotted across the watermelon’s thick, dark green stripes?

You’ve incidentally seen this man half naked more times than you can count, yet it’s the sight of his hands on a watermelon that somehow wrecks you beyond repair on this balmy summer day in the middle of July.

And now you’re leaning against the counter in his kitchen while he slices away through the thick rind and into the soft pink interior, wondering desperately how you’re going to survive the rest of the day now that you’ve lit this dangerous thread of thought that’s rapidly burning its way through your insides like a stick of dynamite. 

“I think we picked out a good one, try it first at least.”

Rather than wait for you to reach out and take the triangular slice clutched in his hand, Matsukawa smirks as he steps toward you and places it against your lips. The pink pulp is sweet as he presses it past the boundary of your mouth, which opens of its own accord as your back presses into the edge of the countertop behind you. Your stomach flutters violently.

You’re half certain you’re imagining it, the way his eyes darken slightly when you make no move to take it from him, choosing instead to maintain eye contact as you slowly bite down into the flesh of the watermelon while he holds it for you.

“Well?” he asks, voice a little rough.

Reaching out, you let your fingers encircle his wrist, tugging it just close enough to take another bite. The juice spills, tracking its way down your chin as you run your tongue along your bottom lip.

“It’s good,” you tell him, wondering if he can hear how loudly your heart is thrumming beneath your ribcage.

Matsukawa lifts his other hand and drags his thumb through the sticky line of juice just below your lips, staring at you unblinkingly as he brings the digit to his own mouth. He nods, as if that taste alone was enough for him to agree.

“Issei—” you start, suddenly very aware of the lack of space between your body and his.

His hand hovers in the air, fingers and palm curved like he’s about to cup the side of your face, and you swear you're on the verge of spontaneously combusting right here between the dripping faucet and your unfairly handsome best friend.

—and then the front door to the apartment bursts open, accompanied by Makki’s singsong voice as he trudges inside and yells, “Oikawa said we’re all dead to him if we don’t get to his place in the next fifteen minutes!”

Matsukawa’s hand drops, and you watch as the expression on his face shutters.

But it’s undeniably deliberate—the way his fingertips brush against yours before he turns around and sighs. 

[unhinged-waterlilly]

Percy Jackson RP Blog

Ooc Intro

Lilly Darhk here! Child of Poseidon. Legacy of Styx(dont ask). My pronouns are she/her, i dont get sexuality. Oh, and currently possessed by Nyx, Syclla, Styx, and Hera. No, I also don't know how I'm alive. Now a Champion of Athena(are you proud, dad?). And Champion of Achilles now-

I live in Itacha now but come to Camp in the morning

Currently on a self appointed quest of getting as many bows from as many gods as I can so if you're a god or if you know a god who can give me a bow tell me please- I need them

Likes: my friends, reading, writing, chocolate, family, My boyfriend :3, ma lake

Dislikes: hellhounds, Zeus, people who hurt my family, jellyfish(I didn't even do anything to them!), hellhounds, Apollo(he's too fucking bright)

Fatal Flaw: Pride

Weapons: A bow and arrows usually but has a bracelet where the charms turn into daggers

Kill count: 127 (counting all the times I've killed those stupid goddam HELLHOUNDS)

Death count: 0

Almost death count: 999++

Key:

Nyx(purple, bold) Scylla(blue,bold) Styx(red,italic) Hera(orange,italic)

Lilly(normal)

The peeps I knoww:

Ma boyfriend, who's very awesome, and if anyone hurts him, I will make sure you die a very slow death. :D @madson-of-hermes-notluke

They, like, possess me: @primordialgoddessofnight , @werelonelydemonsfromhell , @heraaaaaaaa

Champions of: @achilles-the-greatest

My bio dad: @that-little-fucking-shit

Dad, who adopted me: @odysseus-of-ithaca-is-lost

Another version of the dad that adopted me that I don't like as much: @odysseus-reigning-king-of-ithaca

Other dad who looked at me and was like 'That one' (he regrets it every day): @paris-you-idiot

My mom, who was completely okay with ody adopting me and didn't question it at all(which i still find kinda weird): @penelope-is-waiting

My sister from Poseidon: @daonedaonlyskh

My other sister: @reigningprincesstofithaca

My psychotic adoptive brother: @reigningprinceofithaca

Other version of my brother, less insane more sad: @telemachus-of-ithaca

Other other version of my brother, but he's 12 and adorable! (And if anyone hurts him... you better hope you die before I get to you) @telemachus-is-lost

Other other other versions of my brother are 10 noww @young-telemachus

Other other other other version of my brother and he has horrid taste in men @the-prince-telemachus

Other other other other other version of my brother who thinks he's Shakespeare or that arrow Apollo dealt with @ithacas-prince

Other other other other other other version of my brother who..wait that isn't right... Not traumatised???? I don't know how this is possible @youre-fatherless-im-not-hehe

Other other other other other other other version of my brother who's 15 and just...i don't know how to feel about him if I had to kill a Tele I'd probably kill him @another-telemachus-wont-hurt

My brother from Poseidon he's an idiot @forbiddensonoftheseagod

Lil Percy he threatened me it took everything in me not to laugh @the-s0n-of-poseidon

My cyclops brother, very tall, very blind and does not know what small talk is: @my-baseballs-are-humans

My boyfriend's half sister(who's also my friend ig): @hispanic-child-of-hermes

Scares me: @that-girl-cupid

Richbitches4lifeee: @if-chaos-was-a-boy

If i were to date a gal-(also kinda scares me): @silena-daughterofaphrodite

Nyx possesses this dude, too. Oh, and there's also his boyfriend: @idontloveanybodythatsmypower

Almost more unhinged than me(almost): @nicoswill2live

Child of Eros who has decided that she would kill for me after 5 minutesof meeting me(I would do the same): @i-would-want-myself

Some dude who sent me a meme to be my friend and then wrote me a song: @clown-energy-skyrocketing

Fellow Luke defender😌 @childofthewargod

There's more people I know- sorry for the tagss

Face claim: Cool art of meh :3

Made this cause everyone's confused about meh.

This user is... (1) (2) (3)

Stuff about Lilly... (1)

Moodboard...

Something about @/demigod-jack-hearth...

~~~

No NSFW. DNI if you're zionist, transphobic, homophobic, racist, sexist, a nazi, xenophobic, or otherwise

[brucewaynehater101]

can we have chaos gremlin Tim Drake fic recs pls? 🥺

Hullo 👋

Here's some fics where Tim is a bit unhinged. I copied and pasted the summaries the author did:

Tim’s quest to bring Bruce back from his Time-Travel-Super-Vacation goes horribly topsy-turvey when Ra's takes a more pro-active approach to keeping Tim prisoner, and he ends up in an alternate universe where he never existed, and everybody is disorientingly well-adjusted and weirdly obsessed with his “wellness”, whatever that means.

Tim is a clone, Young Justice has a new BFF, and Batman's adoption tendency has been sledgehammered with Post-Ethiopia grief, which means the JLA is now in charge of a miniature Batman despite almost none of them being parents. This can't end badly, can it?

When Tim is 11 he figures it’s not hurting anyone if he. Ya know. Takes a picture in the Batmobile. But then the power goes to his head and all of a sudden he’s hacking the Batmobile and tearing through Gotham on a rescue mission.

Tim Drake fucks around with the timestream and finds out. Now, he has to suddenly deal with a baby face, his family (and hiding from them), the loss of his precious middle child status and the burgeoning realisation that Damian is taller than him.

Beneath Gotham there is something. Anyone who spends time with their feet on the ground can tell you that much. At the surface level it's goons and scared street kids. Beneath them are the sewers, haunted by endless appetites and the scraping of hide against stone. Beneath that is glowing green, craving warmth of blood and rage, hunting for its host. And even further beneath that is something other. Above Gotham there is something. Anyone who spends time in the city can tell you that much. In the shadows of tall buildings or on outcrops of stone there was movement. Flashes of color or shadows taken form. Ever watchful eyes following the movement of the cities beating heart.

He hadn’t been prepared to take on Red Hood in Titans’ Tower. No, Tim had fought cleanly. Fair. But he wasn’t in the business of making the same mistakes twice. And the Red Hood? Well… Jason Todd should have stayed dead.

On a boring night, Tim and Steph discuss their most favorite and stupid yellow-press headlines. Years later, it gives Damian the chance to witness the true unhinged potential of one Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne

Talia doesn't tell Damian his father's name before sending him off to Gotham. This sets off a series of events that no one could have predicted. On an unrelated note, Tim has always wanted to be a big brother

The kid in civvies knocking on the door to his apartment shrieks Jason's name and launches himself at Jason, who catches him on reflex. He realizes it's the Replacement at the same time he notices the kid is so tiny he could barely pass for twelve, let alone fourteen. "Jason," his Replacement mumbles again into his chest, and Jason finally regains the presence of mind to move them backwards into the apartment. If he's murdering the kid now, better to do it with privacy.

Hal Jordan finds a tiny child in the Watchtower, and appropriately decides he should not be there. Robin has other ideas.

Last one: The series "Bird's Night Out" by Calamityjim. Basically, chaotic Robin rivalry with Red Hood