#my pride and joy i love him he is so fucking stupid

[bunnys-kisses]

can I pretty please get nanaimo bars,english muffin with the side of milkshake, frozen latte with Charles Leclerc 🥹🫶

bakery menu

the bakery is open and accepting orders! we're cooking up smiles every day! submit your own order! reblogs & comments are appreciated! thank you lovely anon for submitting this, it was something very different to write that i loved. size kink with charles is super interesting given how many people see him. but sometimes i forget he is close to six feet tall and built like someone who does f1. he may look sweet as honey, but there's probably something more sinister (sexually) going on in that brain of his, haha.

nanaimo bars ("who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it.") + english muffins ("aw, is someone crying?") + milkshake (size kink) + frozen latte (dumbification) served by charles leclerc (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, size difference/kink, dumbification, teasing/dirty talk, crying kink, cry baby!reader, oral sex (charles receives), deepthroating, facials & cock slapping, safe words/signals, hair pulling

"mon cœur"

"la douleur dans ma poitrine."

"mon amor..."

"ma salope."

charles liked to make you cry. he loved when his mean words would curl up into your brain and make that waterworks come out. he was the prince of ferrari and of his home country. it's pride and joy. he was seen as effortlessly cool and could entice anyone. that smile, those green eyes. but even with all he had been afforded, nothing turned him on more than seeing his precious girlfriend's bottom lip wobble her eyes grow cloudy with tears.

he was running on high after monza, it was like everything was barking in the back of his head. even out of his driving suit and away from the track for the night, he could still feel the adrenaline. and while many would go for a run or spend the night with a drink in hand. he yearned for something different.

and when he saw you in his lavish hotel room, in one of his shirts and what appeared nothing else underneath. he knew that he was in for a treat tonight. with his bag down and his shoes off, he entered further into the room. he ended up by you on the couch and took you by the chin.

he smiled, "most take off the make up before they get comfortable." his thumb trailed under your left eye.

you replied, "i took everything off earlier and put on the mascara that runs easily." it was from a cheap brand at the pharmacy. perfect for what charles liked.

he chuckled, "you are just full of surprises, my love. you're going to be good for me tonight, right?" it was moments like these that you realized just how much bigger charles was. most painted him as short and frail.

he was just under six foot but built in a way to withstand the strain of racing. with large hands and thighs that could kill. his hand could easily fit around your neck as easily as his cock did to the back of your throat. there was a flicker in the greens of his eyes, the noble prince had stripped away into a hungry animal that yearned for you.

you swallowed, "i always am. always for you."

he tapped your cheek six times and you tapped his wrist once in response. even if these sick games where you cried and grew stupid on his cock, there were limits everyone had. charles didn't want to break your little world apart because he took it too far. he got on the couch next to you and undid his belt. your delicate hands helped him and dropped the leather to the floor.

charles held you face to look at him. he remarked, "you really are pathetic, so eager. i'm surprised you didn't stalk the halls looking for something to fuck your throat while i was out."

you frowned a little bit, "i'd never, honey."

he pinched your cheek a little harder than normal and leaned in, "right, right. because you're a good girl, my pretty girl. who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it." his words were enticing and it made your stomach flip.

"i am."

"you are pretty, my love." he said, "god blessed you with good looks because he knew you'd be stupid. add a dash of being a cock hungry whore and sometimes i get worried. i've never wanted to kill a man, but if another sank his teeth into you." his words were low and they made you curl in your gut.

if you wanted out, as a last resort. tap once then six times in rapid succession. charles liked to make your bottom lip wobble, but he wasn't a monster. he pulled you in for another searing kiss, his hand in between your legs. he felt panties as he rubbed his hand up.

he knew it was going to be a long night tonight. but first, he had his eyes on your pretty throat. after all his marks had faded over the week. while there would be press photos soon, they didn't mean he couldn't mess up the inside of your throat. even if you couldn't talk for the week, he was more than happy to do all the talking for both of you.

"stupid thing." he said, "you know that? i feel sorry for whatever school gave you your diploma." he acted like he wasn't at your graduation, "i bet you paid them off. or worse, sucked them off. little whore on campus, too stupid to actually learn anything except be on her knees and breath through her nose." he made a small noise of disappointment.

and charles got excited at the sight of you. that bottom lip was going, he could see the shudder in your shoulders. that struck a nerve, post-secondary was hard for you. you felt like people called you dumb without actually saying it. and charles' toxic words only added the fuel to the fire of doubt.

"aw, is someone crying? don't cry." he said, faking sympathy, "if you start crying then you won't suck my cock properly." he rubbed the back of your head as he watched the tears come down your cheek. he sighed once more, "silly thing."

soon your head was between his legs. he could feel your hot tears against the base of his cock as they streamed down your face. they weren't a rush of tears, but a slow trickle as charles' words clouded your head.

you started to work his cock and he felt the excitement in his body. it took a good while but eventually you learned how to deep throat him. he hissed and held onto the back of your head. you were both still clothed (or at least partially for you).

charles had a habit of running his mouth when your mouth was on him. and he rocked the blunt end of his cock up against the back of your throat, occasionally making you choke, he started talking. "i should throw you to the rest of ferrari. let them ruin you. then maybe you'll stop being so greedy for cock when you've had enough for a lifetime. i see how they look at you, my logo across your pretty breasts as you look so cute down at the paddock. if i waved my hand and told them to have their way with you, you wouldn't be getting far." he tugged on your hair a little and forced you up and down his cock faster.

you choked a little bit and sputtered, trying to catch your breath through your nose. it all was a deep throb in your head as you tried to cram as much of his cock into your throat.

"i'd say they'd make your ass ferrari red. but i think it would be closer to mercedes black. you wouldn't be able to sit right for months. maybe i'd be generous and let the other drivers have a chance too. crying on their cocks."

you sniffled, tears welled up in your eyes some more. while most despised having 'raccoon eyes', charles found it endearing. the poor little thing can't help but cry because she knows that he's right. you knew in your gut that you were at least a little cock hungry at all times. he watched you squirm in your seat at times while you let your imagination run wild.

he continued to use you to his liking. you were perfect. trained you from the ground up to be perfect on his cock. he caught glimpses of your face and your red eyes. poor thing, crying to much making a big mess.

so dumb, so small, so stupid.

he took his cock out of your mouth and rubbed it up against your cheek roughly. spit and pre-cum caught across your right eyelashes. his cock pushed your top lip up and he groaned at the sight. your tongue licked a bit of pre-cum that was dangerously close to your face.

"so small, i'm surprised you could take all this. i remember when i couldn't put it in without prepping you. then you spent all season training your cunt for when i got home. now you take me in every way perfectly." he licked his lips, "you know where you belong."

his words excited you as you put your mouth back on his cock. you whimpered as you felt it hit the back of your throat once more. he was big in a way that it made you squirm.

you continued up and down his cock, putting all your brain power (what little you had left) into taking him well. you coughed and panted, air felt in short supply as you got him to the base. your nose in his groomed pubic hair.

a picture perfect beauty, all for charles to devour.

he knew he was close. he could feel it in his bones and in the tension of his muscles. he then tensed up further with his hand in your hair and pulled your mouth off his cock (as much as it pained him to do that). with his other hand he stroked himself off quickly to the sight of your quivering, overheated body. you panted heavily and he finished all over your face. he streaked your skin white with cum up to your forehead. it dripped down your face as you coughed a little.

the debauched sight made him get a few more ropes up cum on your face before he settled down. he pulled your head back to look at you, you could barely have your eyes open. he wished he could take a picture. the white of cum and the mascara mixed tears created a sight that made charles run hot.

"now you look like a slut." he said as he got his jeans off. he rubbed his cock up against your soft lips before he slapped his still hard cock against your face, only making the mess on your cheeks more intense.

"charles." your throat felt raw from it. you looked at him and panted heavily, your tongue stuck out a little bit. and charles knew the night was far over. he fucked you stupid without stimulating your poor pussy. he wanted to see how stupid he could make you.

"we're not done yet." he said.

you tilted your head to the side, almost innocently as if your face wasn't a mess. you asked, "what?" your brain not capturing all the words properly.

he held onto you for a moment and said, "ten seconds to clean up your face. then i want you naked on the bed, or i'll fuck you on the bathroom floor." then let go of you and watched you scramble to clean yourself up. those words stuck in your blissed out brain even though you almost tripped over yourself.

charles chuckled and leaned further back onto the couch, his cock at full attention. even though the mascara was going to be gone, it was okay. you still looked just as pretty with just those tears streaming down your face. <3

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for calling my boyfriend out after a party after he very Frenchly insulted our cooking?

I (25M) am dating J (27M), and we live together. For the most part he's wonderful, super sweet, and perhaps the most French man living today. He's a walking stereotype, right down to the sexiness. He's Parisian (we live in the states) and has a huge obsession with wine and cheese, and I'll be honest, he can be pretty snobby. He was raised by some well to do old money family that disowned him when they found out he was gay and it shows. He has a few antiquated ideas of what America is like, especially when it comes to food. Anything that has roots he doesn't recognize gets criticized. It's a classism problem, we recognize that, and he is trying to work on it. He slips up sometimes.

We went to a housewarming party two nights ago. It was a potluck deal and I brought a beef chili I had been working on for like two days, it was my pride and joy, and J didn't even have anything bad to say to me about it.

Anyway, an hour or so into the party we went to get food. He had a few glasses of wine, so he wasn't quite thinking straight. It turns out somebody brought homemade Frito pie (and pretty fancy frito pie too, with jalapeños and sour cream and pico de gallo, it was amazing and delicious and I am still dreaming about it), I'm southwestern and it was a staple for me growing up so I tripped over myself trying to get at it. He noticed how eager I was and scoffed at me. I asked what was so funny, and he said it was baffling that I'd go for that first since it was "comically American, down to the fried chips riddled in it." I rolled my eyes and ignored him.

Turns out the friend who made it was standing a few feet away and overheard him. She told us that she worked super hard on making the chili and cooking the pie, and if he didn't like it, he didn't have to have any. I was so fucking mortified I felt like dying. I apologized on his behalf and we stayed for a bit longer, but I was so embarrassed and angry that we left about an hour after that. I couldn't make myself have a good time. As a bit of an apology I left our friend a container of the chili I made and said if she wanted to make a pie out of it I'd be honored, and she happily accepted.

This is where I may be TA. As soon as we got in the car I blew up at him. I told him that he disrespected my culture, my cooking, my taste, and worst of all, embarrassed me in front of a friend and insulted something that brought her joy. I said "if you see Americans as so lazy, stupid, fat, and disgusting, then why are you even living here? Why the fuck do you even wanna be with me? Am I just the only good one to you?" I was laying into him for about 5 minutes. It was the worst fight we'd ever been in, not that we get in many.

He got really quiet after that and just muttered out an "I'm sorry." We were silent the ride home and we went straight to bed when we got there. I even heard him sniffling when we were trying to fall asleep, which was heartbreaking and started to make me feel like I'd fucked up, too. He's been distant for the last few days and I feel like I need to apologize.

Do I? Was I TA? I just got so upset that I couldn't take it anymore. I really love him and I just keep worrying that any second he's gonna say he wants to break up, and I never want that to happen. Any advice is appreciated.

[notjustjavierpena]

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

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

Giggles (Drabble)

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

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

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

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

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

Word count: 1.2k

Giggles

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[namfinessed]

so close - m.yg.

genre: major angst, fluff, second chance romance (13.5k)

summary: words are not enough for people who are so close and so in love, or a fic in which yoongi loses you but will do everything in his power to win you back.

note: writing after so long felt liberating, i hope you feel through my words.

this one is dedicated to my soulmate, @hopefuldreamlove​

masterlist 

“you know what? i’m done, i’m fucking done with your nonsense, i hope this stupid roof falls on your head!” your screams bounced off the walls loudly as you dragged your bags to the front door, you no longer recognized yourself.

when had it become this bad?

“i hope so too, at least that way i don’t have to hear you scream like a banshee on drugs, just get the fuck out already” yoongi huffs as he matches your vicious tone, but his chest tugs at him, begging him to move and stop you before it was too late, before you actually left and never came back. but his pride was stronger, he wasn’t going to beg you to stay, he was stubborn enough to pretend this didn’t affect him at all.

you don’t respond or even turn back to look at him one last time, you slam the door and trudge your luggage impatiently to the elevator.

yoongi couldn’t move, he watched the front door with pursed lips, he couldn’t believe that after all this time, this was how you two were going down.

he should’ve stopped you; he shakes his head at himself, he shouldn’t have even let the fight get so far, he should’ve stopped the second your voice wavered with unshed tears halfway through the argument but he didn’t, he waited for those tears to turn into simmering anger and yoongi didn’t do anything to make you stay. as always.

that was why you fought in the first place because yoongi had seemingly given up on putting any effort into your relationship.

halfway through the parking lot, you pulled your suitcases behind you with heavy steps, letting out puffs of breath with furrowed eyebrows, and then you paused. your heel stuttering as you narrowed your eyes, your hands loosened around the handles of your bags.

why should you leave?

you both were still owners of that apartment, both of you paid the rent and if you left now, you don’t even have a place to stay and you didn’t want to inconvenience your friends because yoongi was being an asshole, you also didn’t want to go through the trouble of finding a new apartment when you had a perfectly available one right above you (with three bedrooms!).

you smiled wickedly, if yoongi thought he was getting rid of you this easily, he was dead wrong because now, you were determined to make his life hell by living right next to his door and doing everything you could to make him uncomfortable.

yoongi didn’t hate a lot of things, but his personal space was always important to him and you were determined to make that space as worse as it could get and if he had a problem, he could always leave and find another place, he had the money to buy another apartment anyway.

with that happy revenge plan, you walked back to the elevator with a bounce on your step, you couldn’t wait to make yoongi’s life miserable.

yoongi, on the other hand, had been watching the clock since you walked away, it took every fiber of his pride to keep himself on that couch and not run after you but eventually, he knew that he needed you, he couldn’t ignore his sinking chest forever, so he ran to get his car keys, begging and praying silently that you hadn’t gone too far.

he reached for his phone as he made his way to the door, already texting your friends to see if you had gone to them.

imagine his surprise when you slam the door open just as his hand moves towards the door handle, he jumps back with a pounding heart and a rush of emotions fills him.

a mix of relief, remnants of his previous frustration, pure joy, and cockiness fill him as he sees you back in your home, his hands almost grab you into a hug but instead clench into fists and tighten beside his body.

“missed me already?” his lips curl into a smirk and your glare hardens, but you give him the sweetest smile in return, and yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

you looked furious when you left so, yoongi didn’t understand the smile on your face even if his heart jumped at the smile he hadn’t seen for a while now.

“don’t flatter yourself, min yoongi, i’m not back for you, i’m back for my apartment” you sing to him as you purposefully shove his shoulder on your way in, even running your suitcase on his toes accidentally as you walk past.

he winces and curls to grab his stinging foot, “what the fuck is wrong with you?” yoongi growls, any idea of needing you had left him swiftly as his anger returned with a vengeance.

“oops, sorry, didn’t see your foot there” you tried not to snicker as you said but you still had that shit-eating grin on your face and yoongi huffed, annoyance filling his every crevice.

“okay, what are you doing back here? i clearly remember you hoping that this roof falls on my head, did you come back for it to fall on yours too?” yoongi followed you as you walked to the guest bedroom, his footsteps speeding up to catch your pace but you remained one step ahead.

“you mean, what am i doing in my house? i don’t know yoongi, what do people do in their houses?” your voice was sickeningly sweet and yoongi ran a hand across his face in exasperation, “this is our house, can you stop being sarcastic for one minute and give me a straight answer?”

“as far as i remember and you are free to correct me, both of our names are on the lease, making both of us rightful owners, why would i go anywhere else when i have a home right here?” you level your glare with him as he stares back with an unreadable expression, “are you doing this just to be petty?” yoongi thought you had come back for him but now knowing that you didn’t, filled his chest with a bitter, ugly feeling.

“i have no idea what you are talking about, i am just choosing to live in my house” you shrug your shoulders as you put your clothes into the guest room’s closet, yoongi looks away with furrowed eyebrows, “stop calling it your house, it is our house” your hand paused at the longing in his voice but remembering all the nights you went to bed crying because of him, pushed you to just keep arranging your things.

“it is mine and yours, not ours,” you concluded and yoongi tried to shake off how heavy your words made him feel, “besides, i won’t even be bothering you anymore, think of us as roommates and nothing more until i find a new place.”

“roommates?”

“roommates.”

“you are going to find a new place?” yoongi asks, shifting on his feet, it was strange to see you occupying a different part of the house.

“of course, why would i stay here with you for longer than required?” you planned to just ruin his life for a little while and then leave to a place where you could finally breathe.

you just staying here would ruin it enough, you thought.

“you shouldn’t even be staying here right now” he bit back, masking the ache in his heart with insults he normally wouldn’t even think of uttering but that confirmed it for you that your decision to stay bothered him and that satiated your petty heart.

“if you have a problem with me staying, you can leave and find a new place” you gave him a large, sarcastic grin and yoongi’s eyes further narrowed on you. “i don’t give a fuck about you staying or leaving, just stay out of my way” yoongi mumbled and slammed the guest door shut.

you rolled your eyes as you continued shoving your belongings in place, you couldn’t wait for this lease to be over, just as much as he did.

-

the lease was supposed to be renewed after three months and you were hoping to find a place by then because as much as you taunted yoongi, you were planning to move out the next chance you get because you couldn’t stay around him and hate yourself for liking him still.

you spent the first two weeks, mostly staying out of home, you couldn’t stand seeing him working all day, even at home. that was why you two had fought and ultimately broken up over, and as much as you hated to admit it, you were hurt that he didn’t even try to change his ways.

your eyes glared at the eggs sizzling in the pan sitting in front of you as your hands tightened impossibly around the spatula you held.

were you supposed to cook eggs with a spatula?

were the eggs supposed to look that dark in color?

was whatever you’re holding, even a spatula?

your head tilted in confusion as you tried to rake your brain for things you learned from cooking shows and let out a sigh of frustration as the eggs you flipped had smoke coming out of them.

you never had to worry about cooking, as busy as yoongi got, he always made sure you at least had leftovers to heat up before he left for work but you would rather plunge yourself on a bed of legos than ask him to make your food.

besides, you could do this yourself, you have done much more difficult things than this in life, a couple of eggs and bread weren’t going to be that hard.

“are you seriously using a scooper?” you heard a low, groggy voice from across the room and you sucked in a breath, face heating up in embarrassment.

so, you weren’t using a spatula after all.

you stiffly nodded and yoongi snickered, “if you need a ride to the hospital after eating whatever you made, i will be happy to take you.”

you turned around with an annoyed huff, “as if you have time for anything besides being holed up in your studio, i will die before you even come and get me.” yoongi’s jaw tightened as you pointed your spatula (scooper) at him, and then, he released a long breath as another grin graced his face, “so, you agree? you agree that you will end up in the hospital after eating this?”

“even if i do, i don’t see how it’s any of your goddamn business, min yoongi, just make your fucking breakfast and don’t be such an insufferable roommate” maybe your words were harsher than needed, but you couldn’t stand being around him and not hurt him, as he had hurt you over the course of the past few weeks.

yoongi didn’t retaliate which only made you feel worse, but you held your chin high in defiance of your own guilt as he did exactly as you told, he kept quiet and made his breakfast.

and of course, he made a huge spread of everything from bagels to smoothies to chocolate pancakes, he put them right in front of you as he sat on the opposite side of the long island table as you stared down at your burnt eggs and bread with a clenched jaw.

for yoongi, work could wait right now but annoying you couldn’t.

“i hope you enjoy your breakfast, y/n, if you can call it that” yoongi gave you his brightest smile yet, the stretch on his face covering the otherwise sarcastic tone “because i know i will enjoy mine” he finished by shoving a forkful of the cream cheese and chicken bagel that he knows is your favorite. he knows how much you loved it when he made it for you after a night full of love and attention.

you glare at him with annoyance crawling up your arms and legs as he lets out a moan of approval at the bite, obviously putting on a show to piss you off more, your mouth waters involuntarily as he chews slowly with nods and loud hums of satisfaction but what finally drives you mad, is when he lifts his head from eating and gives you a cheeky wink.

your hands gripping the table's edge turn white as you forcedly push your body away from the table, abandoning your sad excuse of breakfast and stomping out of the room.

you hate that you can hear yoongi’s sinister laughter even after you slam your door shut.

-

this is what continues for you both, you accidentally unplug his computers, he accidentally drops juice on you right before you go to work, you accidentally break his speakers, and he accidentally puts your night plushie in the washing machine and reduces it to nothing but a shapeless fluff. the cycle continues, both of you determined to not let the other breathe peacefully, every night you slept while making a plan to destroy his day, and every morning you woke up to execute it.

it was childish, immature but it gave you the satisfaction you craved. seeing his usually passive face become irritated or waking up to his screams of frustration and curses filled you to the brim with joy.

you did start to question why you enjoyed it so much though, sure you wanted to give him hell but the whole process of planning it wasn’t what made you satisfied, it was purely his reaction to it.

“you just want his attention again” your dear friend, jennie, mutters as she glares at you while sipping her bubble tea. you immediately scoff at her; she had no idea what she was talking about.

“no, i want him to suffer” you correct her and she shakes her head at you, putting her drink down and leaning forward with furrowed eyebrows. “i worry about you, you know.”

“why? i’m perfectly fine” you shrug because you don’t see anything that she needs to worry about, you are moving on, you are making yoongi suffer like you wanted to, your work performance is still intact, and everything was smooth sailing. “no, you are not. i thought it was weird that you wanted to stay in the same house as your ex, but i didn’t say anything because you were in a sensitive place then. now, you have to admit that you are delaying staying away from him.”

“i’m staying in a house that i own and that i am paying rent for, it has nothing to do with min yoongi.” you jab a finger on the table as irritation fills you, but you also feel embarrassed? humiliation crawls on your insides as you try to maintain a passive face. jennie’s face softens and she reaches out for your hand, “i know how much he hurt you, don’t punish yourself by thinking you have to prove to anyone that you want to hurt him as he did you. your pain doesn’t need justification.”

-

you couldn’t sleep that night, all you could think of was jennie’s face as she uttered those words, her gentle hands keeping you anchored to the real world, the world where min yoongi shredded you to pieces without caring or knowing about it. before you know it, you feel tears escape down the side of your eyes and your hand shakily reaches out to muffle your sobs.

why couldn’t you just stop caring?

why couldn’t you up and leave?

what kept you tethered to a relationship that was void before you ever called it off?

and why couldn’t you just fucking stop crying?

you wanted to let your hand go, so yoongi can listen to your wails, to what he’s done to you, the damage he’s caused, the broken pieces that you struggle to pick up, maybe in some sick way, you want him to come and wipe your tears away, maybe you just want him to show up this once, to make up for all the months he didn’t. but you don’t let it go, you hold it tighter against your face because as much as you want him to know, you can’t. you can’t have him find out that your tears were because and for him.

-

you didn’t have to justify your pain but you did have to prove that you were moving on, so against jennie’s and all your friend’s better judgment, you decided a date night would just be enough to prove that you didn’t care about yoongi or whatever you had with him anymore.

you hummed lightly as you got your favorite dress out, it had an open back and whenever you wore it, yoongi couldn’t stop touchin-

this isn’t about him.

you huff in annoyance at your own thoughts as you lay your dress down on the bed, you are not thinking about him, not today and not ever, today is only about your date, you are going to have a good time, get lightly tipsy, and maybe even have a full-blown make out session if you get drunk enough for it and you will not think of yoongi at all.

you took a deep breath in as you started doing your makeup.

how long has it been since you got ready for a date? at least, a date that didn’t get canceled as soon as you were ready. your makeup brush slows in your hand as your heart starts feeling heavy again. you didn’t bother getting ready for anything if it was not with yoongi even when he canceled, even when he pleaded with you that he would be there and left you hanging.

you gave such little regard for yourself and you feel angry that you didn’t put yourself first, that you didn’t fight him right then and there, you feel irritated that you quenched your needs for as long as he made you wait.

 you start getting ready with more aggression after that, you were definitely going to put yourself first now, yoongi gets none of you. you don’t need him for anything anymore.

except for maybe one thing.

you stand in front of the mirror with a scowl, your arms awkwardly bent to try and zip your dress up but your fingers are just out of reach for it, you start to hop awkwardly hoping that somehow hopping around will magically zip your dress up and start to groan in frustration.

“are you auditioning to be a kangaroo?”

you pause with gritted teeth at his amused voice coming from the doorway that you didn’t realize was wide open all this time.

this can’t be happening right now.

“can you fuck off?”

“and you will go out with your zip wide open, got it, i will be taking my leave.” He snickers and starts to head out, only to pause when a whine comes up your throat, you bite your lip to swallow your pride because you don’t want to ask him, but you have no choice.

“yoongi, can y-“

“can i?” he turns around in a flash, leaning against the doorway with a smirk on his face, that you want to slap off.

“can you zip my dress up?” you mumble out in a rush and shift your feet to face him with half your body. yoongi whistles, looking away, acting like he didn’t hear you at all, and your eyes drop into a glare, you can already feel your irritation crawling up your skin.

“you heard me, stop acting like a kid.” you scowl at him as you stomp your foot.

“i did but a ‘please’ would be nice, you know, zipping a dress is tough work and i can’t just hand it out for free.” he was enjoying this way too much but his heart was dipping continuously as he kept looking at you from the corner of his eye.

when was the last time he saw you, all dressed up?

why can’t he remember the last time he took you out?

why can’t he remember the last time he fell asleep and woke up with you?

he clears his throat loudly as he makes his way across the room, your glare stays on yoongi as he approaches you but you don’t miss how his eyes stay downward as he walks with slow steps. you tilt your head in confusion as you push your hair to the side, to let him zip you up.

but he never does.

he stands behind you, looking in the mirror as you hold your hair up, he looks at you through the mirror, and your eyes meet his.

yoongi doesn’t look away.

you don’t look away.

your zip is long but forgotten.

and suddenly, you feel like the room is running out of air for you to breathe in.

you hadn’t been this close to yoongi in so long.

you can’t tell if he’s thinking the same thing, you can’t tell if he’s finding it hard to find air right now too, you can’t tell if his heart is beating as loudly as yours.

but sorrow fills you because, in all these months, yoongi has come this close to you, only to zip the dress that you’re wearing on a date with someone else.

“yoongi.” you whisper, so quietly, so delicately, as if you can’t bear to utter his name but you have to.

“right, zip.” he shakes his head at himself, quickly looking downwards and his hand’s ghost on the skin exposed to him, yoongi is suddenly unsure if he can zip you up or not, he’s unsure if his hands will let him only zip you up, he’s unsure of where that would lead to.

“where are you headed to?” yoongi tries to sound casual as clears his throat and his fingers finally catch the small zip at the dip of your dress, he takes his sweet time dragging it up, his eyes savoring every inch of skin he hasn’t touched.

you hesitate, you don’t want to tell him. actually, maybe you do, maybe you wanted him to know before but after the shift in the very air around you, it feels wrong. “a date.” your answer leaves you in a choke, just as he finishes pulling the zip all the way to the top.

he removes his hands from you like he’s been stung, and he steps back, yoongi doesn’t even breathe as he stands unmoving.

air rushes in your lungs once you notice the conflict in yoongi’s eyes, once you recognize the conflict forming a knot in your stomach and even air seems like too much for you.

the moment is over and you can feel your defenses climbing up too.

you are ready to fight him, you are ready to argue that you both were done, and that what you do with your time is none of his business and it never will be, and that you can kiss, fuck, do whatever you want with whomever you want.

because you two were done.

because you two were done.

that statement didn’t feel real until this second. something about the statement felt like the most incorrect thing in the world to yoongi.

but he won’t say it.

he won’t hurt you anymore.

he can’t hurt you anymore.

“have fun.” his words are low, and curt and they fall into the silence around you both in a loud thud as yoongi quickly walks out of the room.

you are left in your dress, with a date you were going to be late to and a heart so heavy, you feel that you will drop it at your doorstep before heading out.

-

“isn’t that so exciting?” your date beams at you.

he’s cute, well accomplished from what you’re told and he seems interested in you.

you wish you could say the same.

but all your responses to him have been one-line sentences and tight smiles.

along with your pre-existing obsessive thoughts of yoongi and that goddamn zip, guilt bleeds into your system and so does dread.

guilt, because your date is as good as dates come, and he already mentioned that he would be more than willing to take time out for you and that he will be available whenever you want, that the next date will be whenever you are comfortable.

which should excite you.

which should delight you.

it should make you the happiest person in the world that he’s so openly giving you his time even if you are meeting him for the first time, it should make you the happiest that he seems enamored by you, that he wants to know so much about you. your friend had mentioned that this guy had been asking about you for a while and that when she asked, he had jumped in joy at the idea of going on a date with you, this should make you happy.

but it doesn’t, it sits bitterly in your mouth that it doesn’t make you feel a single thing.

you felt a million more flutters, kicks, and tingles in that one-minute yoongi zipped your dress up than you have for the past hour sitting opposite to your date.

dread also, slowly but surely, starts to consume you from the inside out. it scares you that maybe you will never feel all of that with another person, that you have somehow run out of sensation when it comes to someone else, it scares you that this might be forever, that you will never truly move on, that you can ever only pretend to move on.

maybe if someone else touches you.

maybe if someone else feels you.

maybe you have a chance of forgetting the ghost that yoongi left on your skin, maybe if someone else kisses you, you will be able to forget how his lips felt.

maybe if someone else could be exactly like yoongi but not like yoongi at the same time, you can survive this.

there’s no one like yoongi.

and you can’t do this anymore.

you stand up abruptly, your mind too loud to let you sit and listen to one more word that didn’t come from yoongi. your date sits up alarmed, quickly reaching for your hand to ask you what was wrong, to check up on you.

he is touching you.

his hands grip your fingers tightly.

he won’t let go until you do.

there is security in his touch.

but.

nothing.

you feel nothing.

your breathing stills at the realization.

your body doesn’t even bother with his hands on yours, it doesn’t even register that a person is holding your hand, asking if you’re okay. your body hates you.

before you know it, you are rushing out a half-assed apology and running out of the restaurant leaving your date confused and hurt.

you wish you could turn back and tell him you felt the same.

you were confused and hurt too, just for someone else.

-

a defeated weight held your head down as you walk back to your home.

the home that you share with your ex.

if you were in a better mood, you would maybe laugh at the situation you’ve put yourself in, maybe laugh at how ridiculous all of this is but you can’t bring yourself to even walk without feeling like the world was crashing on you.

yoongi heard your footsteps out in the corridor and he jumps back from the door he had pressed his ear against, running to the couch before you reach the doorknob. and just as the door clicks open, he snuggles himself into the blanket on the couch and evens his breath to pretend like he’s just casually fallen asleep on the sofa with a movie playing.

he wasn’t pacing by the front door a million times, trying to listen in to when you would come back.

he wasn’t going to reach for his car keys and come to find you.

and yoongi definitely didn’t feel the jealousy burning in his throat since the second you walked out for a date with someone else.

yoongi hears a thud and opens his eyes to the smallest amount he can see.

and he sees you.

that dress still takes his breath away.

but he can hear your breathing too.

it’s uneven, rough, and too quick, just like how it always is when you feel overwhelmed or frustrated.

yoongi stiffens in his position, both concern and anger filling him and the blanket slips from his shoulder a little.

was it because of your date?

did he do something to you?

were you alright?

his heart thumps uncomfortably as your step near his figure, he doesn’t know if you can tell that he’s pretending or not.

then you sit right by where he’s laid, on the floor, another defeated sigh leaving your lips, and yoongi wonders of the ways he could kill your date for making you like this.

little did he know, it was because of him.

“i can’t do it, yoongi” you whisper, seemingly to no one even if you use his name like you don’t want him to hear and yoongi confirms that you believe his act.

“i can’t seem to move on” a sad and tired chuckle follows that sentence and yoongi’s skin burns underneath the blanket, he’s never heard you this way. “and i know you have, i know you moved on a long time, long before we ever broke up but i can’t. even if you have, i can’t.” tears build in your eyes as you try to blink them away, you felt ridiculous, talking to him when he was asleep.

but you couldn’t help it, there was so much you wanted to say but you never got the chance to.

“i can’t hate you for moving on, but i can hate our situation for making it so hard for me to move on, i can hate myself for ever loving you, i can hate a lot of things” you nod to yourself, yoongi’s fists curl on his chest, if only he could throw the blanket away and take you in his arms. if only it was that easy.

“i can’t hate you, i can never hate you” you finish, your head falls with the weight of every thought you had.

if only you could tell him this when he wasn’t sleeping, if only he made it easier for you to say it to him.

yoongi’s lips purse, out of all the things he thought you would end the sentence with, that wasn’t one of them.

he was prepared for you to insult him in the vilest way possible.

he was prepared for you to blame him; he was prepared to take the blame.

but he wasn’t prepared for what you said or how you said it.

he wasn’t prepared for the sad kind of joy that filled his heart.

his joy was a paradox, too many faces for him to feel it at all.

you got up, turning the television off and pausing to look at him before you disappeared into your room and prepared yourself for yet another day of pretending to hate him.

yoongi could feel the weight of your gaze on him. he foolishly wonders if his hair is looking okay today, if the pajamas he chose today looked good on him, if he was looking presentable.

he can’t help it, you are standing in your prettiest dress and yoongi knows no one can be more beautiful than you, in that dress, in any dress, or in nothing at all. he only wants to be worthy of you.

then you do something that makes yoongi choke back a long breath.

you tuck his blanket back in place and your hands make quick work to cover his ears sufficiently.

it’s a simple action but it makes yoongi feel everything he did for you when he confessed his crush to you all those years ago.

then you step back and pad away quickly to your room and once your door falls shut, yoongi sits up immediately, breathing heavily.

he buries his head in his hands as frustration and something so similar to grief run through him in waves.

was he really stupid enough to let you go?

why did he feel regret now, when everything was concluded?

why did you have to tell him all of that?

his heart ached, his fingers ached, all of it was for you. and he looks at your door longingly.

you were wrong, yoongi thought. yoongi would die before he ever moved on from you.

and he never really let up a chance to prove you wrong.

at your door, his hand pauses in the middle of knocking when he hears your sobs on the other side.

if someone ripped his heart out, it would probably hurt less than this.

how badly he wanted to break down the door and hug you until your tears became his.

how badly he wished to caress your hair until you fell asleep.

how badly he wished you would fall asleep in his arms.

how badly he wished, against his awareness of the selfish nature of his wish, to see you in that dress one last time.

yoongi could open the door, he could do all of this, he could grant himself everything he wishes for but the door wasn’t the only barrier between you two and he became painfully aware of all the invisible barriers you both held up now.

he can’t just leave and come back when he wants, it wasn’t fair on you.

so, yoongi, regretfully and slowly, takes a step back and disappears into his studio where he catches no sleep.

but hey, he could at least finish a song that night.

that night, yoongi knew he was lying to himself if he said that he didn’t love you anymore. but he was also on thin ice with you, yoongi was going to try his best to stay on the surface.

this would be the last song he would make for a while, he had more important things on his checklist.

-

the smell of-

was that cream cheese?

your groggy, half-asleep mind somehow registers the waft of bagels and cream cheese in the air, which is enough to pull yourself out of bed.

with tangled hair and puffy eyes, you pad into the kitchen with a narrowed gaze.

of course, it’s yoongi.

you glare at his back which moves constantly to put together a cream cheese and chicken bagel which was, as mentioned, your favorite. usually, you would appreciate this view, usually, you would go give him a back-hug as he cooked for you but you knew it wasn’t for you.

“do you have to torture me like this?” you whine out, and yoongi snickers, his apron tightening around his waist as he turns around to look at you, “good morning to you too, you look bright as ever this morning” he gives you his best smile and you return a sarcastic one.

despite his aloof attitude, yoongi was trembling on the inside because he knows there is no single right way to win you back, he would have to earn it, and he would have to work on it every single day.

but if it was going to take forever to win you back, yoongi would try forever.

you buried your pounding head in your hands as you took a seat at the table, wondering how you were going to cook for yourself again without accidentally setting something or yourself on fire.

then, a glass of water with advil comes into view and you look up to see yoongi immediately backing away to work on breakfast again.

“are you trying to drug me?”

“is it working?”

you can’t help the small smile forming at his amused tone, but you don’t say anything which makes yoongi sigh in failing irritation. “come on, it’s just advil. you don’t need me to drug you, you do that with your cooking every day.”

“geez, thanks for reminding me i’m not freaking gordon ramsay in the kitchen” you continue his banter, somehow, you’re in a good mood even after how terribly last night ended. you go mute when he places a plate filled with your favorite bagel, an omelet, bacon, and even mini jam sandwiches in it.

you just stare at the plate before dragging your gaze to yoongi who turns away once again, this time with a dust of pink on his full cheeks that you catch.

“your side of the table is that way” you point to the opposite side, albeit regretfully because it’s been a while since you have had a proper, not-burnt breakfast, but he must have mistakenly placed this beautiful plate of food in front of you.

it has to be a mistake.

there’s no other reason for yoongi to feed you.

but oh, yoongi’s just so full of surprises.

“that one’s for you.” he shrugs casually as if it was normal to make you breakfast, after he’s only eaten it in front of you for a few weeks.

“what?”

“do you have hearing problems?”

“do you have mental problems?”

“yeah, but a dining table is hardly an appropriate place to discuss those, don’t you think?” maybe it was his flat tone as he said, indicative of his sense of humor, maybe you were just in a more fantastic mood than you had anticipated.

but you burst out laughing. you couldn’t help it; your laughter took over your entire system.

you can’t remember the last time you laughed like that.

yoongi had always managed to make you laugh or smile; this magical ability made you fall for him hard and fast, and after a rough day, he was the reason you at least slept peacefully, when you were together.

when you were together.

right, that wasn’t you two anymore.

that realization slows your laughter to a hesitant chuckle, yoongi wishes he didn’t notice that shift.

"don’t try to cook ever again if you want this roof over our head.” he jokes again as he sits down on his side of the table, suddenly the table seems too long to him and he hopes you’ll laugh again.

"are you saying you'll kick me out?" you dramatically gasp at him with an undeniable smile on your face.

it’s all right, yoongi will take a smile too.

"I’m saying you'll burn it down.” he continues with a playful whine that has you giggling again, swinging your legs under the table, a true indicator of your happiness in that minute which yoongi doesn’t miss.

“don’t you have work today?” you ask, finally digging into your food as yoongi does to his.

god, that’s good.

you swear his hands are magic.

“i took the day off” yoongi shrugs again, the second time he’s shrugging over things that aren’t half as casual as he makes them seem.

as long as you know, yoongi only ever took one day off, which was on your first anniversary.

he was always late to the other anniversaries.

you try not to think of that now, especially when both of you were in a civil mood.

“why, are you sick or something?” though concern fills you, you don’t let it show as you stuff your mouth.

“nope, just like that.” you hum in reply with poorly contained surprise.

“i don’t have work today either.” you don’t know why you tell him but you do.

“i know.”

“okay.”

“okay.”

you feel embarrassed at the disappointment that filled you when he didn’t say anything about it, what did you expect he was going to do, ask you for a date? if he wanted to, he would have done it when you were together.

“do you want to watch a movie?”

you almost drop your fork.

yoongi is surely full of surprises because you don’t even process his request for a second.

“what?”

“do you really have hearing problems?”

“no, i just didn’t quite catch what you said. are you asking me to watch a movie with you?” you repeat his words in disbelief, the plate of food that you loved so much, completely forgotten on the table.

“yes, that is what i said.” he confirms and you tilt your head in suspicion that yoongi notices too quickly which causes him to rush out, “as roommates.” it pains him to say it but he can’t come up with anything else to convince you.

“as roommates?” your confusion only grows.

“as roommates.”

“but why?” you can’t help but ask.

“just think of it as me trying not to be an insufferable roommate” he offers his explanation and in theory, in practicality, it makes perfect sense.

but both of you know it’s not that simple.

nevertheless, you don’t pry anymore.

yoongi’s shoulders fall in defeat when you don’t agree or deny, he just watches you continue to eat his food with furrowed eyebrows.

he took it too far, he should’ve stopped with breakfast today and tried to convince you to a movie another day, when you’ve warmed up more to him. you are probably still stuck in whatever happened last night and want your space.

“there’s this new horror one i saw on instagram the other day, i must have the link somewhere, i’ll put it on in a bit.” you look away with heated cheeks as you struggle to swallow your food.

oh.

you just agreed to the movie.

yoongi believes he could fly.

-

“man, this is not as scary as everyone said it was” you complain through a mouthful of popcorn, and yoongi nods in agreement, stuffing his face with a handful of popcorn too.

“by the way” yoongi sits up after hours of slouching on the couch and you signal for him to continue. “how did your date go yesterday?” he mutters, as casually as he could, reaching for more popcorn to avoid the tension surrounding the question.

last night comes back in flashes, your cute date, running away from the cute date, coming home to yoongi and confessing you would never get over him, covering him with a blanket and crying yourself to sleep.

shit, did he hear you?

“it went well, i came home pretty late though.” the lie tumbles out of you in lack of a better response.

yoongi knows you’re lying but he’s happy to play along with you because last night did a number on him too.

“glad to know it went well. i wouldn’t know when you came, i fell asleep watching some documentary” he munches on his popcorn loudly, he misses the error in his lie.

he wasn’t watching a documentary.

he was watching ‘finding nemo’.

and you know that because you were the one who shut the tv off.

you know that he’s lying. but instead of confronting him about that and that possibly leading to a conversation about what you uttered into the night, thinking he was asleep, wasn’t a risk you were willing to take.

“right, i did see you asleep.”

and i poured my heart out, right next to you.

yoongi in unaware his lie is caught; you prefer that he stays unaware. because if anything you said last night is what prompted him to act the way he did today, you are glad it didn’t all go to waste.

“we should sleep” he slouches back on the couch, too close to you, he’s hyperaware of your arms pressing against his but now that he’s already fallen back, he can’t quite get up as easily anymore.

he doesn’t want to get up.

“we should.” you agree.

neither of you moves a single inch.

laughter explodes into the room at that, both of your heads falling to the side to look at each other with squinted eyes full of happiness.

but when the laughter dies down and you are left to catch your breath, you are suddenly too aware of yoongi’s face being so close to yours, you don’t move away.

yoongi knows you know that you two are far too close.

he doesn’t move away either.

you start to lean in, your body is on autopilot as your hands sneak up to sit on the top of his knee, yoongi shudders from your touch.

how long had he gone without it?

how had he survived for so long?

how did his heart continue to beat without yours in his hands?

he panics internally as his hands come up to grab onto the sides of your face, like he won’t let go, like letting you go once was enough pain for him.

and when your lips touch, every bit of control you had left on your body evaporates into the air around you, you are grabbing his hair, and he is pulling you closer, and not once do you stop to take a breath.

because you know that when this moment is over, both of you won’t speak a word about it.

you can’t remember the last time yoongi kissed you this way, like his hands would disappear if they weren’t holding you, like his entire life purpose was to take your breath away and never give it back, like every part of him had been aching to do this.

and then it does end, painfully, too slowly, you pull away before your chest burns away, he pulls away because he has to.

you were right.

you don’t speak a word about it.

-

there was no ‘good night’ after that, there was no ‘see you later’, there was nothing left in that moment except the hope stored away in yoongi’s eyes. you pretend you don’t notice it as you, once again, eat the food he makes you in the morning.

yoongi knows he has to say sorry though, he hadn’t planned on that happening, he was just another lucky idiot that night, he was aware enough to know it wasn’t right for two to do that even if you’ve been together for years.

things were different and yoongi always hated change but he had to overcome this change instead of walking away from it, if he wanted to even dream of having you back.

so, he is the one who starts the uncomfortable conversation that you’d been anxiously waiting for.

“about last night-“

“you don’t have to worry about it.” you answer, as quick as lighting, and you even surprise yourself with your speed.

“oh?” yoongi raises an eyebrow at you.

what the fuck was he supposed to understand from that?

“come on yoongi, it’s not like we haven’t done it before” your chuckle following your words, is uncomfortable, tight, and completely unnatural.

“right” yoongi drawls, still not quite getting what you were hinting at.

were you okay with it?

were you not?

would he just have to kiss you again to find out?

“it was just a mistake, it happens, it’s not a big deal, i’m still moving out, you are still very much in love with your career, we don’t have to discuss it anymore” you eat as you speak, trying to bury the longing and bitterness in your voice with cold cereal.

so, that is what you meant.

yoongi doesn’t reply as his head stays down, he gets up soon after, cleaning up after himself and you, he doesn’t speak a single word or spare you a glance and disappears into his studio.

you are all too familiar with this scene.

you only watch as he does all this, you wouldn’t admit to another living soul that your heart grew heavier than it had ever been and that your chest felt tight enough to snap.

yoongi angrily walks around his studio, you could think it was a mistake but yoongi would break his computer before calling it a mistake.

but he realized he still had a long way to go.

yoongi had to be patient, he had no other choice.

but he doesn’t realize every second he goes by without telling you what was weighing on his heart, was another second your already dying hope vanished.

he can’t help but think back on the day he overheard you talking to your friend about your relationship, he subconsciously never really let go of that day, that day, he concluded that it was out of yoongi’s hands to do anything.

“i can’t believe you called, it’s been way too long” he heard your sigh of happiness outside the door, and yoongi paused, he doesn’t exactly know why he stayed to listen but he does.

your relationship, by then, had already been on the rocks, but neither of you acknowledged it.

“i wasn’t going to call, but rumi was telling me you were on a date with a certain someone” your friend sang from the other side of the speaker, clearly trying to tease you but you don’t say anything to that.

yoongi knows why you went silent, making him dig his heels deeper and listen closely to see what you would say.

“yeah, about that” you let out a hesitant chuckle, your voice struggling to keep your cheery tone. “hey, you good? what happened?” your friend’s concern was palpable and yoongi almost scoffed at her, he cared about you too, it wasn’t just her.

but yoongi couldn’t deny the weeks you both had gone without so much as exchanging a proper conversation.

yoongi would never take the blame for it, though.

“we didn’t end up going” yoongi peeks through the door to see your face turned away from the camera and he hated that he noticed the pain etched in your furrowed eyebrows. your friend stayed silent at your simple, but heavy answer, she could tell this wasn’t the first time it happened.

“but today is your anniversary?”

“it is.” you agree with a gulp, still refusing to meet her gaze.

“how long has this been going on?” her voice comes softly, so softly that your chin starts to wobble.

“nothing’s been going on, yoongi and i are fine.” you wanted to believe your words but anyone with two eyes and ears could see nothing was fine with you two.

“is that what you are telling yourself?”

“what else am i supposed to do?” your glare turns sharp and angry, you were fed up with everyone coddling you, you felt claustrophobic enough when you were with yourself.

“you know, if you want to cry, you can. none of us would judge you, you know that very well.” she tries to comfort you and yoongi’s breath turns impatient.

why was she trying so hard to convince you something was wrong, when you were telling her that everything was fine?

why did yoongi feel like she was trying to start a fight?

why did yoongi, a small part of him, feel like a fight was inevitable?

“there’s nothing to cry about, my boyfriend is just busy for an anniversary that might come again, it isn’t as important as what he does.” as you say it, a dread falls over both you and yoongi that there might not be another anniversary.

his heart free falls to his feet.

he had been busy; he wasn’t lying about that but yoongi hadn’t checked on you all this while. he can’t remember how many dates he canceled.

but that wasn’t his fault, that was life, that was his life and you knew about his life before you entered it.

it couldn’t be yoongi’s fault, it had to be yours.

yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch in bitterness at the defeat in your voice, at the absurdity of the situation he never thought you two would have to be in, at the world for keeping you apart.

he looks away just when your sobs break the silence in the room.

“i thought i couldn’t breathe without yoongi, but i am, i am living many days without him, with only glances of him, i am living and breathing.” yoongi’s head leaves the doorway before you finish your sentence. if you wanted to live without him, he would let you go, he didn’t need you to stay out of pity.

“but it all hurts, and i don’t want to do any of that without him” is what he fails to catch in his anger.

yoongi looks back at the day mournfully now, he should’ve taken you out right then and there, he shouldn’t have given up just because it seemed like you did, his head falls in his hands as he rakes his hands through his hair in agitated motions.

he wasn’t sure if he could win you back.

but he wasn’t going to give up, he wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

-

your days continued, as usual, he made you breakfast and packed you lunch, did your laundry and set them aside, he made sure you ate after you got off work and you both watched a movie or listened to songs together, or anything at all, together at the end of the day.

you were feeling good.

too good.

things were going well enough to make you nervous because suddenly, everything you knew from your breakup to the two weeks of enmity that followed those two weeks, changed drastically.

it felt like everything went back to the way it was and as much as you should be enjoying it, you didn’t, without confirmation of where you both stood, you couldn’t.

and soon, there came a catalyst that changed everything once again.

it was a mistake.

yoongi would never intentionally do this.

he took your pile of clothes as he usually does, placing them in a bucket and preparing to do your laundry along with his.

yoongi’s heart thrums in satisfaction as he places them in the washing machine, he always felt good doing chores for you, he doesn’t know why and with how well things were going, he dances and sings his way to the laundry detergent and whistles happily as he pours it heavily over your clothes, making sure to add extra fabric softener.

he leaves to do some light work in his studio, not knowing the mistake he committed.

yoongi was gunning to ruin your life, you were so sure of it.

nothing else could explain your sopping wet blouses, supposed to be white, at your feet.

you gape in horror as you pick the pile apart frantically to search for any blouses that could be salvaged, after all, these were all you wore to work, and your head falls in defeat once you see all of them in multi-colors instead of their usual stark white.

your hands tighten by your side as you feel hot all over with pure rage, you quickly grab the ex-white blouses and storm into the living room where yoongi scrolls casually on his phone, his pout whistles out tunes which fade away as he catches sight of your heavy steps towards him.

you throw your blouses at his feet and your nose flares, yoongi jumps in his seat.

“what the fuck happened?” he gasps out, not understanding the anger in your eyes.

“yoongi, this isn’t funny.” you manage to say beyond gritted teeth and he scrunches his eyebrows.

“what isn’t funny?” he frowns in confusion.

“stop acting dumb, i will fucking force detergent down your throat” that raises concern in him, he looks down at the pile of clothes by his feet.

none of the whites were whites anymore.

fuck.

“okay, listen i swear this is an accident, i’ll get you new on-“

“i wear these to work! what is wrong with you?” you point down at the pathetic pile of clothes by his feet with hands shaking from anger.

“you know, i wouldn’t do this intentionally, i am aware you wear these to work, let’s go out now and get you new shirts, i’m sure some shops will be open” he gets up from his seat, searching for his keys.

“don’t act dumb yoongi, it doesn’t suit you at all.”

yoongi starts getting frustrated, why don’t you believe him?

“let’s go and get them before the shops close” he tries to remain calm.

“i’m not going anywhere with you.” you stay rooted in your place and yoongi’s patience starts to run thin. “i’m telling you, it was a mistake, i’m not crazy enough to do this intentionally, now let’s not fight and get you shirts you need for tomorrow before we can’t.”

“don’t act like you are some hero, you are the one who ruined them!” you don’t understand why you are so angry or why you can’t seem to move from where you stood.

“and i’m trying to fix it.” he grumbles out, slamming the keys on the counter beside him.

you stare at the keys with heavy breaths and he stares at you, his anger melting as quickly as it came to the surface.

“let’s go.” he takes the keys in his hands again.

maybe it was the confusion that finally manifested with an ugly head.

maybe you hated how comfortable you got around yoongi again.

maybe you are seeing nothing but all his mistakes until that minute.

maybe you aren’t being fair at all.

but you snap.

“you think you are the only one who does important work?” you didn’t mean to get personal or bring up the topic that broke you both up again, but you couldn’t help it. your arms cross against your chest as yoongi spins on his heels to turn back to you.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you clearly think you are the only one in the entire world who does meaningful work, the rest of us are just slaving away for money and security, but of course, the great min yoongi works for the greater good, for the comfort of many, for millions who adore him, that is why any work that is not his, is not valuable” your voice drips with venom and mocking as you take slow steps towards him, yoongi’s face falls into his usual glare as he watches you speak.

you poke your finger against his chest, your voice quivering with poorly controlled fury, “who the fuck do you think you are? do you think that writing a few songs and getting some records will erase how horrible you make people you are supposed to love, feel? do you think that you can get away with everything because your name is not just a name, but also a brand? i can at least say that my name belongs and serves only me, can you? you are nothing but walking merchandise that anyone can buy.” again, you never meant to say all of that, you know better than to call anyone an object but that was the thing about your anger, your anger had the power of making you say the most vicious words in the world and you had never learned to control it.

“you don’t mean that” yoongi forces himself to say because those words from anyone else, wouldn’t mean jack shit to him but coming from you, they speared his heart over and over again. he waits, he waits with his sinking heart that you would agree with him, he doesn’t believe in god but at that moment, he wished for every power to let you agree with him.

the air grew heavier around you both as you let out a sarcastic laugh.

“i have never meant anything more. you fucked with my work life, you know how much of an asshole my manager is about dress codes but you did the one thing that could ruin weeks of work for me, and you did it all by yourself, so congratulations min yoongi, you have once again proved to be the worst thing to ever happen to me” you clapped slowly as you stepped away from him, your face grim and dark as you turn away.

yoongi’s heart clenches as your words circle his body in a dangerous tornado.

walking merchandise that anyone can buy.

walking merchandise that anyone can buy.

walking merchandise that anyone can buy.

walking merchandise that anyone can b-

your glare slips as the words you uttered sink into your skin, and by the time you turn back around, yoongi’s eyes already gathered enough tears that they run down his face.

“is that what you’ve thought of me till now?” his voice breaks and so does your heart. “yoongi, no-“ you step towards him but he backs away, his defenses climb back right infront of your eyes as his body suddenly looks too far away.

“that’s not fair, you don’t get to tell me now, that you thought i was merchandise, that i keep hurting everyone i love, when all i’ve done these past weeks is try and win you back.” your world stops spinning as yoongi admits to his trials.

you feel like the biggest asshole in the world.

“yoongi, you were right, i didn’t mean-“ you walk over to him with hesitant steps, he doesn’t back away this time but he doesn’t let you finish either.

“i know i’ll never be worthy of you, i know i can only try but i’m trying, god knows i’m fucking trying because even if you can live and breathe without me, i can’t do any of that without you.” your own eyes start to tear up as you reach to wipe the wetness of his cheeks and yoongi takes a shaky breathe in as his face involuntarily cuddles into your palm.

“and you were wrong that night, i will never move on from you, i am simply not capable of moving on from you, because i have never loved anyone more than i’ve loved you, i’ve never wanted someone as much as i have wanted you, every bit of me belongs to you, none of me is mine anymore. and it took you being away for me to realize that.” yoongi’s confession stops time and space. he feels exposed like someone stripped him naked and threw him into traffic but he finally lets you know everything he’s dreamed of telling you.

you press your forehead against him with a wobbling chin and cup his face with shaky hands.

“did you ever think, that by loving me, you were hurting me too?” you needed him to know the extent of his pain, the depth of his scars. yoongi lets you tell him, he needed to know as well.

“every day, i waited.” the ball in your throat gets tighter as you speak and yoongi hates that he’s the reason why.

“every single date you canceled, every night i fell asleep without you, every meal i had without you, all those days i went without seeing you, i need you to know that it killed me slowly, that it made me a shell of the person i am.” yoongi felt shame rushing through him at your words, at the pain he caused you.

he would understand if you didn’t let him in again.

he wouldn’t try again if you didn’t want him to, he has too much respect for you.

“i love you too much to not give you a chance, heck i would probably give you a chance even if you don’t ask for it.” he looks up with blurry eyes.

“but i need to believe that it will be different this time, not just know that it will be.” you step away at that, staring at yoongi who was left standing with a burden that suddenly fell on his shoulders.

how was he supposed to make you believe that?

could you not trust his word alone?

but then again, his words haven’t exactly ended things well for you both.

“how do you want me to show you?” he needed to know, there was nothing he needed to know more.

your breathing stalls at his words.

“please tell me.” his voice breaks as he whispers that, yoongi’s eyes gathering tears again and your heart falls to your feet at the redness coating his eyes.

you wished none of today would have happened.

“yoongi.” you whisper back but you don’t even know what he could do to mend things, you are not sure he can but you can’t deny him a chance.

you don’t have an answer for him.

“i am going apartment hunting soon” you confess finally, and he feels his breath get knocked out of his chest. “oh really?” he asks, sniffing as he looks away.

“my friend knows this real estate agent person who set me up for a few tours, you have to understand why i had to do it.” he knows exactly why you had to do it and he hated knowing that it was all because of him.

but he wasn’t going to give up after ripping his heart out for you.

“i’ll come with you.” yoongi nods and you frown at him, “yoongi, you really don’t have to, i know you are bus-“ he cuts you off, “i am not busy, let me come with you, i want to at least make sure you move into a nice place.” that was a total lie but it wasn’t like yoongi had a lot of options left.

you ponder for a while, and yoongi waits patiently for your answer, he won’t push you if you deny but he will be as stubborn as he can be without frustrating you.

“fine, i’ll let you know by tomorrow.” you finally give in and without another word, go back into your room. you close your door with an exhausted sigh, your face aligning with your reflection across the room.

your eyes were redder than ever and all the energy had been sucked out of your face, making you look sick and you felt sick too, your entire body was aching and you wondered if yoongi felt this way too, if he was as tired, if he felt like the world was pulling his body down, if he maybe wanted to give up because of this feeling.

you stay several minutes this way; you hadn’t thought you would call yoongi merchandise. you, of all people, knew how stressful his job got but you no longer wanted to use that as an excuse for how he treated you.

“how do you want me to show you?”

those words sent a shiver down your spine at that moment, it was the desperation that drenched his voice, the way his hands were shaking beside his body, and his eyes that looked through every inch of you, trying to find ways to convince you.

a slow knock drew you out of your mind, your hand locking around the doorknob to pull it open, and there stood the reason for all your pain and yearning.

yoongi held a tray of hot soup with ginger tea, and a bunch of chocolates, his gaze settling everywhere but at you, as he stood with shifting feet.

“you didn’t eat anything.” you didn’t realize you hadn’t eaten all day but apparently, yoongi had and that tightened your chest around your heart a little more, suffocating you with the love you held for him a little more.

with trembling fingers, you hoped he wouldn’t notice, you take the tray from his hands and place it on a table, and yoongi turns to leave, he didn’t want to bother you too much, he just wanted to make sure you ate.

you pulled on his wrist, not exactly sure of what you will do next but somehow, you needed to touch him, feel that he was real and that you both were here, so lost but still together.

“t-thank you.” you stutter out, every other word you had woven all these months stayed trapped in your mouth. yoongi stared at the hand that held his wrist, he had almost forgotten how out of breath this used to make him feel. how he used to lose nights of sleep imagining you and him, in a house, waking up next to you, falling asleep with you, long before you had both ever committed, yoongi had imagined every day in his life with you in it.

he can’t believe how close he is to losing all of it.

“we should talk, yoongi.” you feel tired but you won’t be catching any sleep in the state the both of you were in, he would spend all night worrying about you, and you would spend all night worrying about him.

yoongi silently followed you into the guest room, it was still strange for him to see you in another part of the house, he eyes the makeup that was scattered on the vanity, the clothes lying around on the sofa, your socks at the edge of the bed and as silly as it sounded, he hated that none of this mess was in the room you two shared.

“i’m still going to see the apartments” you start off awkwardly, taking a seat on the bed and yoongi stood at the corner of the bed, hating that it felt wrong to sit next to you at the moment.

when had it become so bad?

“and i’m still coming with you to see them.” he concludes and gathers all his courage before plopping down next to you. if today didn’t go the way it did, you would laugh at the distance between you two and pull him closer and tell him to stop acting funny, but none of that felt right.

“i think you understand you fucked up” you say, finally looking up at his figure next to you and you shouldn’t have, your resolve already was spread thin, and looking at yoongi didn’t help.  “i do.” he agrees and nods shamefully.

“what are you going to do to fix it?”

“anything you want me to.” his answer is quick and firm, he was prepared for anything you would ask for, but you were tired of asking.

“it’s not about what i want, yoongi. i need to believe that you want this as much as i do, and that you’re prepared to fight for it, asking me about what to do is you just handing over the responsibility to me instead of at least trying to figure it out by yourself.” he listens intently, and puts himself in your shoes.

“i took a break from work.” your eyes widen at him and you have to force your jaw shut because you could’ve imagined anything but not those words leaving yoongi’s lips of all people.

“you, what?”

“work is good, very good but it was keeping me from you and it was hard to make that decision but i can always work, i can’t lose you. i can lose millions of dollars, this house, all my clothes, everything but nothing mounts to losing you.”

you have to force yourself to look away when he says that, because you never could have imagined that you were worth all of that and more to him and you are well aware of his deep affection for his work which makes it all the more sentimental that he was taking a break for you.

“i want to be worthy of you again, i want to spend time with you, i want to take care of you, i want to be anywhere around you as long as you want me. i thought i was working for us, for us to be comfortable, but i got selfish in the middle, and i ignored the person who kept me going when it got too hard.” he pauses, his breath shaking as his eyes fall shut. he remembers the exact second his chest almost blew up at the sight of you leaving home, he never wants to experience that again.

“it’s all on me, i should’ve never let you feel like i didn’t love you, loving you is one of the only things i can do right.”

“besides music.” you add in hopes to lighten the mood and you are successful when a full grin grows on yoongi, one that has your cheeks warming up with joy.

“besides music.” he agrees, “but i’ve done it for enough time now, i just want to love you, in the way you deserve to be loved. which is why i’m asking, no i’m begging for you to let me do this right, one last time.”

“what will change? if i say, yes?”

“all my time will be yours; all of my attention has always been yours and it will remain yours, i will make your food like i always have, we will go on dates whenever we want, and we will watch all the movies we’ve wanted to watch but couldn’t, we’ll do everything we used to do but better. it won’t go back to how it was but i don’t want us to stay as the shadow of who we used to be, because we’re meant for more than that.” he says sincerely, with his heartbeat echoing in every word and you couldn’t just pretend like you didn’t hear it.

“as much as i try to will this feeling away, i can never stop hoping for us.” in the next second that he utters those words, you throw yourself in his arms, and your final resolve breaks as his shaky hands snake down the length of your back like he can’t believe he gets to hold you like this again.

the first tear slips without knowledge, secretly and it disappears in his shoulder, his tear disappears in the crook of your neck. the tears that follow, fall shamelessly, without any intention of stopping and none of you say another word, not another ‘i need you to stay because i’ll lose the important piece of me if you go’, not another ‘i love you, like i’ve loved nothing else and losing you scares me like nothing else’, all of those remain unspoken but they hang in the air around you.

“i believe, with everything in me, that we’re meant for more than this.” yoongi braves to look at you, his eyes zeroing in on the curves of your cheeks, he hates that he was the reason for the tears that have fallen on them.

he can’t let it ever happen again.

“do you?”

-

“this one has beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows, i heard you have a passion for reading, so the sunlight will be perfect.” your agent says enthusiastically as he walks you through the sixth apartment you’ve seen today.

“she also has a passion for sleeping so that won’t work.” yoongi groans as he walks behind you, your face grows red as you slap him on the arm.

“if you’re going to complain about every house, just stay outside, i will look through them.” you grit your teeth at him but your heart softens when his mouth pulls into a whine, “our house is perfect, i literally don’t understand why you’re moving.”

all yoongi has done since he’s stepped out of home is complain about every single house you’ve been to.

“the closet won’t hold half your clothes.”

“a big kitchen is useless for you.”

“this literally looks like a druggie’s hideout.”

“it’s too white.”

no, you are not sure what he meant with the last one either but all you know is that he’s whisked you away from all of them before you could even consider them as options.

“we’ve talked about this, and we agreed that space could do us some good, and no, our house isn’t perfect, my bookshelf has no space left.” you complain lowly so that the agent doesn’t hear you but lo and behold he does. yoongi, on the other hand, can’t remember when he agreed that space would do you good, hell that’s the last thing he wants.

“which is why this house would be perfect for you, the bedroom offers a stunning full wall bookshelf that you can stock up with all of your reads without compromising for space!” he cheerfully chatters and yoongi’s jaw tightens, he hates this agent with all his body and soul even if he’s known him for an hour.

“i can build a bookshelf from scratch” he mumbles grumpily but he can’t help the way his heart flutters when he sees you catch sight of the bookshelf. it’s everything you ever want in a bedroom, a proper vanity, a low-set bed, perfect lighting, and of course, the majestic bookshelf.

your smile grows as you trace your fingers over the plush vanity and the bookshelf and yoongi’s face breaks into a half-smile.

it’s bittersweet, to have you, but in a different house, not the home you’ve built for years but yoongi would never deny anything that grew that smile on your face.

“i really like this one.” you beam at the agent who sighs out in relief but maintains a professional smile, “if you’re all set for it, i’ll get the paperwork ready.” he offers immediately and your eyes pass on yoongi’s figure in the doorway. he smiles at you encouragingly, as if he’s okay with it, but you know he’s not.

just then, yoongi’s phone rings and he excuses himself to step out to take the call, right before he leaves, he hears you say, “i’ll take this one” in a lovely, sing-song tone that he knows you only use when you’re truly happy. his shoulders slump but he knew that this would happen today, he had told his heart all night to not give up on him.

he answers the phone with an irritated tone, he didn’t know how to feel, he could barely listen to the person speaking to him on the phone, he wanted to be happy just for the fact that you agreed to give him a second chance, and that you were excited to spend time with him, but he couldn’t help the sinking in his chest at the thought of waking up and not seeing you.

“no, i am not coming in for work next week, i already told you this, don’t call me again.” yoongi says in a calm but stern manner, the person tries talking again but you were out of the house, and yoongi could care less about anything else.

“did you sign the papers? did you need a pen? i think i have one in my car, let me go grab it.” he rambles and hastens to make his way to the car but you bite back a smile and grip onto his hand.

“yoongi.” you step into his open arms and hug his torso, yoongi is confused but his arms wrap around you, and unconsciously you both are swaying in each other’s embrace.

the house was great but being in yoongi’s arms for these two minutes felt more like home than any house in the world and every corner of the house reminded you of the lack of his presence.

the kitchen, where he won’t cook, where he won’t make fun of your dishes.

the couch, where his headphones don’t lay carelessly.

the bedroom, where his side is neatly arranged while yours stays a mess.

the balcony, where he won’t sip his coffee dramatically at sunset to amuse you.

and the bookshelf, that he won’t help you fill with all the books he gets home, just because they reminded him of you.

you had wanted a home and space but you could find both of those in yoongi.

“you can build a bookshelf, right?” yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch at your question, he almost feels offended that you have to ask that.

“um duh, you know i can.” he whines and you giggle into his chest.

“then, i’m not moving.” yoongi’s arms almost fall away at your words, a strange mix of relief, gratefulness and content fill his every crevice as he tries not to hug you tighter, a punishment for even thinking of keeping you away from him.

and he will take this mix of emotions and remember it forever, the day you gave up on space to stay with him, he will remember the favor you did for his heart for as long as he breathes.

“i will build a million bookshelves if that’s what you want, all you have to do is stay, forever.” forever is a big word, a word yoongi never believed in, always saying that everything in life was on borrowed time but with you, it feels like too short of time.

you knew how he felt about forever so for him to say it to you, rushes into your chest and spreads with a warmth that makes you feel all things giddy and good.

he says nothing, no words, just keeps you in his arms after time had kept you away for too long.

“let’s go home, yoongi.”

[cyrusthedragon]

These two pics here are so dear to me, actually.

One of my favourite things (i need to kiss my brain later) is that when i saw Billy and Ryan playing foosball i IMMEDIATELY thought about casuallander and how he'd absolutely suck in this game. AND HE'D BE PISSED ABOUT IT.

"Oh c'mon!" he'd snort, glare, wave his hands, as if he didn’t care at all, barely containing his rage, while Ryan would smile quietly from the side, and Billy would watch him with The sly grin of his. "What? What? Don't look at me like that! It's a s-.. it's a stupid fucking game for kids, okay? Oh god-..."

John would be (not so) surprisingly stubborn, Billy'd definitely say to him something like: "Aw, c'mon, love, ya lost a few times, so what? Gonna cry yer pretty eyes of now?”

And John would instantly explode, all fuming: "I didn't lost!"

"You lost, dad," it would've been Ryan then. He'd be all so bright in a good mood, with a smile stretching from ear to ear. He'd sit on a high table and swing his legs, and laugh every now and then.

"No i didn't," and there would be no end to John's sour mood. He'd frown at his lost rounds and wave his finger like he was scolding them nasty kids. “This isn't even that hard! Seriously, William, what are you, a child?” He'd pout, and for the first time in ages, Billy would laugh sincerely and loudly, tears of joy streaming down. His deep laughter and Ryan's giggles would make John's cheeks flush red. "Oh for the love of god..." he'd mutter, not really offended but obviously needing to save his face, turning his back to them. "Shut up already, you two."

"Yer old man's turned out to be a right crybaby, ain't he?" Billy's voice would reach John's red ears, but he wouldn't move, only snort like the big cat he was. Butcher'd wink at Ryan, "A'right than, lad, show yer dad how to play foosball proper."

And Ryan would gladly jump off the table to start a new match with him. And when he'd win, he would scream with pride, forcing his father to instantly spin around:

"You won?!" John'd exclaim as he'd move closer to take a look at the field.

"Uh-huh," Ryan's blue eyes, similar to John's, would shine brightly, and John would smile haughtily, pointing his finger at Billy:

"See?! That's my son!" Naturally, Ryan'd be pulled into a tight hug to the accompaniment of laughter, and his father would give him a strong smooch on the top of the head. "Well done, champ!" John's gaze would land on Billy, who now, calmed down, would watch the two of them in the fading rays of the setting sun with a grin. "Fuck you!"

"Right, fuck me I s'pose." He'd add, almost whispering. Satisfied, calm, safe. And none of the supes would hear him - so busy they'd be:

Ryan'd be smooched on the top of his head once again, and he'd feel happier than ever.

That one's for my kiddo @theryanbutcher 🫶 inspired me, lmfao

[thevirtualvalentine]

— ☁︎ AKATSUKI REACTION TO YOUR ‘AKATSUKI THEMED’ BONNET :

content warnings: fluff, kinky/curly haired!reader, established relationships, crack but written in character(ish), hidan being hidan, dreadhead!tobi, they love you and your natural hair. 🖤

authors note: extremely self indulgent headcannons I’ve been sitting on because I think this would be hilarious.

Inspired by my bonnet:

DEIDARA

Deidara takes exceptionally good care of his hair, it’s something the two of you bonded over together in the hideout. He watches you do your wash days and then lets you slink into his room after to hangout, but today you got a new bonnet.

“Now that is a work of art,” he laughs watching you make your way to the bed. Usually, your bonnets are in one solid color but today… it’s black with red clouds, like his cloak. “Where’d you get a thing like that.”

Obviously, he had to get one himself so that you can match. “Baby, don’t gatekeep,” he begged and pleaded. On the upside, his hair is softer and silkier than ever and you’re beginning to envy his inches of 613 hair.

HIDAN

Hidan, bless his heart, does not understand hair care. When you first started seeing each other he did not know what a bonnet was for. But, once he learned he started buying you ones that he thought were cute. Pink ones, purple ones, ones with ties so you could make a bow.

“I ain’t ever seen no akatsuki bonnet,” he remarks watching you strut around the living room in your new item. “It’s cute bunny, real cute.” He can’t explain it, but this strokes his pride 10 fold seeing you in his paraphernalia. Safe to say this one became his favorite.

He did, however, also have one special made with Lord Jashins symbols too.

ITACHI

Itachi is a kind lover, therefore he does most of your hair care for you. Since being with him, wash day have never been a hassle. Braid outs, wash n go’s, cornrows galore that boy knows what to do.

That’s why when you’ve come to bed tonight you decide to surprise him. “What’d ya think?” You say while scooting closer to your lover under the covers. He’s also freshly showered, skin still damp as he lazily props himself up with an arm.

He toys with the elastic by dragging his finger along the perimeter, his sultry eyelashes batting as he looks you over. “I like it,” And he means it, but he already knows he’s going to get you one with the Uchiha insignia instead.

KONAN

Similarly to Itachi, Konan knows what the fucks going on. Queen of detangles and leave in conditioners, she gets you right and takes pride in being helpful to you. So, you thought you’d pay your girlfriend back with an homage to her organization that seemingly has profound meaning to her.

It’s late and you know she’s a bit stressed as of recent, so as you both get ready for bed in your shared bathroom you put on your new bonnet. She almost chokes on her toothbrush in shock!

“Oh baby I love it! Where did you even get something like that. It suits you so well,” she dotes with toothpaste still on the sides of her mouth. It puts a smile on her face whenever you wear it.

KAKUZU

The truest idgaf-er, says not a lick the day you wear it around him. Honestly he doesn’t know how feels about it, a stupid investment really. That you’d spend, most likely, his money on a such a trivial thing [eyeroll emoji].

Whatever. It’s.. nice. But, don’t expect him to compliment you. “Kakuzu, you haven’t said anything bout my new bonnet,” you pout while trying to curl up next to him like a cat on the sofa.

He pauses trying to find his words, “you look like a walking target.” When he sees the expression of joy fall from your face he knows he messed up. “But it’s a sweet gesture, little one.” He slots his arm on your waist rubbing the expanse of your smooth skin with his rough hand. It makes you heat up a bit. He’s a sweetie when he wants to be.

SASORI

Your boyfriend is annoying, but you happen to like him like that. The times when he is out of Hiruko in the safety of the compound, he likes to touch you even if he can’t feel it. He’s possessive over you, he knows how beautiful you are, your hair being only the crown of your beauty. He’ll curl strands of it around his wooden fingers as you talk — he isn’t the biggest help to maintaining it, wood body and all — more-so an appreciator of the art that is you.

You decide that you’ll annoy him back, buying a bonnet that matches his robe for work. “Are you serious? I wanted to play with your hair but you come in with that,” he pinches the veneer of his nose bridge in an exaggerated sigh. “You’re ridiculous. Come here, now.”

Sasori may act like he doesn’t like it, but it’s clear from the way he smirks as you lounge with him that he is a fan. “Such novelty,” he says while planting kisses on your forehead.

TOBI

Babe, he already had one. “Does that mean you wanted to match with lil ol’ me!!” He jumps around your shared room popping in and out of reality as you chase him around. What started as a coalition of curly heads in the akatsuki has blossomed into a fruitful relationship between you and he.

“Tobi you big jerk! I wanted to surprise you,” he looks utterly ridiculous in a matching robe and bonnet right now. You’re unable to catch him from how hard you’re laughing at him while he taunts you. Once you finally get your hands on the slippery bastard, it’s time for a wash day (together of course).

“How’d you even get this Tobi, I had to get mines special made,” you say as you scrub his scalp of any buildup with your nails. “A magician never reveals his secrets y/n-chan~~” he winks in your direction.

“Shut up or I’m charging you for a retwist.” He was quickly silenced.

[bruh-changbin]

think pink

pairing: pink power ranger!hyunjin x afab reader

genre: smut, stupidity (minors dni)

warnings: oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), public sex kinda?, unprotected sex (be safe), creampie, tit sucking, alcohol consumption, very brief mention of female masturbation

word count: 8.2K

a/n: IM AT A CONCERT DRESSED AS SLUTTY LIGHTNING MCQUEEN RN WOOHOOOOOOO (this is a queued post). happy horny halloween mofos! very glad to be posting this fc bc i was supposed to post it last year and then just gave up LMAO so she's been a long time comin. pls give her some love i would really appreciate it!!! hope you all have/had a super safe sexy halloween!

october is overrated.

i mean sure, there is something undeniably cozy and heart-warming about crunchy leaves and pumpkin patches and all of the other shit that comes in the ‘fall aesthetic’ package. but the truth is that october is too windy, halloween is overhyped, and pumpkin spice tastes like ass.

and who wants to go to a halloween party where you can’t dress like a slut because of the wind chill? no one.

“you’re too negative.” jeongin sips his starbucks while keeping his eyes trained on the road, his left hand gripping the steering wheel of his beat up silver volkswagen jetta that he calls his baby, his pride and joy.

“i’m just telling it like it is,” you shift in the passenger seat to face him, “there is no need for so much hype around a mediocre holiday. what’s there to enjoy about getting violently drunk and stuffing your face with so much candy you feel sick?”

“listen y/n, i don’t know what your problem is but halloween is fun.” he appears to stop there, but then keeps going, “and i will not have your sour attitude ruin my favourite holiday.”

you just scoff and gaze out the window at all of the trees now bursting with shades of red, orange, yellow. 

as if sensing something was off from your previous conversation, jeongin breaks the silence “you’re still coming to jackson’s party though, right? i don’t wanna go alone…”

“you won’t be alone,” you counter, “seungmin will be there.”

jeongin groans, “but seungmin’s so boring at parties. all he does is complain about how bad alcohol tastes and try to talk to people about books and films. i don’t trust a bitch that says films instead of movies! they always think they’re better than everyone.”

“that’s not true, seungmin’s fun at parties!” albeit you do admit you’ve only been to one party with seungmin where he went buck wild and were later told that that is very uncharacteristic of him. 

jeongin’s expression turns sour, and you start to take pity on him.

“innie, i promised you i’d go to this party. when have i ever broken a promise? i’ll be there, alright?”

with that his face softens, and he goes back to his regular chatty self. 

“knowing jackson it’s gonna be even bigger and better than last year. and you know y/n, i’m pretty sure hyunjin’s going as well.”

your heart drops to your stomach at the mention of his name.

you try to act as nonchalant as possible, “why would i care if hyunjin’s there or not?”

“because you’re in love with him.”

“i am not in love with him.”

jeongin scoffs, “please, i see those googly eyes you make every time you see him - scratch that, everytime his name is mentioned. and you sucked his dick.”

“oh so the second you put a guys dick in your mouth you instantaneously fall in love with him?”

“okay fine! maybe you don’t love him but there’s something there, no denying it,” he pauses, and then adds, “and i for one think it’s something worth pursuing.”

leaning your face against the passenger side window, you sigh contemplatively, “that ship has sailed, my friend. at this point hyunjin probably doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“i don’t know y/n, he still seems a little…. hung up on you,” jeongin attempts to reason with you, “why don’t you try talking to him?”

“what the fuck would i even say to him? hey hyunjin, everytime i think of you i get really really wet. could you please bend me over the nearest hard surface and fuck me so hard i can’t walk for a week???!!!!”

“so vulgar and for what.”

you roll your eyes, “shut up jeongin. if you want me to get with him so badly, maybe… i don’t know, help?” 

“no way. you two are adults, you can sort it out yourself.”

“gee, what would i do without you and your incessant outpour of advice jeongin?” you tease, since jeongin is inherently quite awful at offering meaningful advice. 

“i give good advice!!! you just never take it,” your best friend scowls as he drives through campus, pulling into a parking lot located in the midst of all of your school's buildings. 

“sure innie, whatever makes you feel better,” you grab your tote bag off of the floor of the passenger seat and step out of jeongin’s car. as soon as you’re outside a brisk gust of wind engulfs you, the chill making its way through your sweater and making you shudder; you should’ve worn a thicker jacket.

jeongin does the same as you, slamming the driver door shut before grabbing his own stuff from the backseat.

“i’ll see you in a couple hours, kay? text me when your class is done,” he states before heading off towards to library, his broad shoulders protected from the frigid fall weather with a thick wool sweater and a puffy black scarf. the heels of his boots scuff the pavement as he trudges away, pulling out his headphones as he prepares for a couple hours of studying.

you make out in the opposite direction of your friend, heading towards the building where your lecture hall is located. all around you students are dressed in jackets and thick sweaters, scarves donning their necks and leg warmers wrapped around their ankles. the grey sky makes everything appear dull, spare for the bright coloured leaves that have been blown off the trees and crunch under the weight of your boots when you step on them. 

soon you make it to your lecture hall, revelling in the warmth of being inside as you slowly close the doors behind you and making your way over to your (un)official seat. ever since the amount of people attending lecture every week started to decrease, you staked your claim on a seat in your favourite section of the room and refuse to sit elsewhere.

after a couple minutes of waiting your prof begins class, delving into lecture without a hitch as you attempt to scribble down notes. however, just as you’re about to get into the meat of today's class, your focus is broken when a late-comer yanks open the doors to the room with full force.

in walks hwang hyunjin, and a small part of you dies inside. 

as the metal door swings shut behind him with a dramatic bang! you lock eyes with him just for a second before his gaze is averted to your professor who he gives a small, apologetic smile to. 

in your head you’re screaming don’t you fucking dare hwang hyunjin as he walks closer and closer and closer to where you’re sitting in the sparsely populated lecture hall. you roll your eyes so hard your head hurts when hyunjin chooses the seat almost directly in front of you (just a little off to the side so it looks like it was a total accident - fuck you hwang).

of course you knew that hyunjin was in this class as well, but he’s usually on time and usually sits far away from you, at the back of the lecture hall. today he just feels like being an asshole, i guess. 

hyunjin’s weird. he’s weird because he had the hots for you during the sweltering summer months, when jeongin rented a beachside airbnb for a week and invited all of his close friends - including you and hyunjin. he’s weird because he always applied sunscreen on your back and helped you cut up watermelon and sat beside you during bonfires. he’s weird because when everyone else left to go to the pier he encouraged you to stay back and yanked on your hair while you sucked his dick, bit your bottom lip with his front teeth, and fucked you so hard you saw stars. 

he’s weird because he now pretends that the two of you have no history and fucks with you on purpose by shooting you flirty looks when he sees you at get togethers or on campus but does nothing more than that. he knows that you think about him, but does he think about you too?

staring at the back of his ebony-haired head, you can’t shake the image of hyunjin on top of you, his puffy bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he fucked you into his mattress, out of your head. the needy whines and groans he emitted when his cock was down your throat are ringing in your ears; you cross your legs under your desk in a pathetic attempt to ease the ache you feel in your cunt that you hate yourself for. come on brain, we cannot be horny during lecture! focus!!!

the next few hours drag on and on and on as you force yourself to keep your vision trained on either your notebook or your prof, resisting the urge to allow yourself to gaze upon the man who occupies your thoughts almost 24/7 (which is so not feminist of you btw). 

ergo, when your prof finishes lecture 20 minutes early, you heave a sigh of relief. great, now you can gtfo and go finger yourself in the bathroom before getting jeongin to drive you home. but of course, a certain someone decides to ruin your plans by turning around and leaning against your desk, his dark chocolate eyes staring down at you mischievously. 

“are you coming to jackson’s party?”

is he talking to you? 

“are you talking to me?”

hyunjin looks around while the few other students surrounding the two of you scramble to pack their bags, “i mean, who else would i be talking to.”

“i don’t know,” you shrug, “anyone but me i guess.”

god this is so awkward. gag me with a spoon.

“you didn’t answer my question.”

“hmm?” you pretend to busy yourself with the task of shoving your pencil case into your near empty school bag.

“jackson’s party? you coming? jeongin said you were.”

of course he fucking did. because jeongin just loves stirring the pot.

“oh, uh yeah. i’ll be there.”

“what are you going to dress up as?” hyunjin clearly does not see how much you want to end this conversation - or maybe he does, and he just likes seeing you squirm. bitch.

“i don’t know yet.”

“the party’s tomorrow… and you still don’t know what you’re gonna be?”

“nope.”

“oh.”

hyunjin’s lips curl into a subtle smirk and you know he’s just dying for you to ask him the same thing, so you do.

“what are you dressing up as, hwang?”

his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he swings his backpack over one shoulder, “i guess you’ll just have to find out.”

and with that, he leaves you alone in the lecture hall with your professor, your half-packed bag, and your soaked panties.

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･˙

back in jeongin’s jetta as he gives you a ride home, you complain about hyunjin.

“he’s fucking with me on purpose, i just know it. god! he’s such a…. just like a little…. WEASEL! he’s a fucking weasel.”

“come on y/n, he’s not that bad,” jeongin sticks up for hyunjin, who is also his friend, mind you.

all you do is wave him off, “you don’t know how it feels to be played by a man that beautiful, innie.” 

jeongin throws in the towel, and the two of you drive along the paved roads of your town in silence. as you continue to move along you soon find 

“that forest still gives me the creeps.”

”come on, you seriously still don’t believe in all of that ‘lost john’ bullshit, do you?”

lost john’s forest is somewhat of a fable in your town; folklore, if you will. for ages people have been passing around this story about how a tourist named john who was exploring the town wandered into that forest one day to never be seen again. there are some variations, of course. some people say that they’ve seen john out and about, or that john was actually a cult leader and if you go into the woods you’re bound to get sacrificed. no one knows if john actually ever existed, or if the story is just all horseshit used as a cautionary tale to keep kids out of the forest at night.

doesn’t make it any less creepy though.

you huff as you stare at the endless sea of trees you’re driving past, “it’s not that i actually believe in it, it’s just that those stories come from somewhere, you know?”

jeongin doesn’t seem to understand the point you’re trying to get across, “...so?”

“so there’s gotta be at least some truth to them, right? or else where did they come from?”

“i don’t know y/n, i think it’s all made up to scare kids.” 

the two of you sit in silence for a moment as you pass the last stretch of lost john’s forest before being surrounded by houses, apartment complexes and coffee shops once again. 

“hey, do you know what costume hyunjin’s wearing to the party?” 

as soon as the question passes your lips you regret it, and your regret increases tenfold when a devilish smirk makes its way onto jeongins face.

“oh! i thought you’d gotten over hyunjin, but here you are asking what he’s dressing up as for halloween. interesting!” 

“oh my god jeongin shut the fuck up!! it’s not like that, he was just being a twat when i asked him about it in lecture today,” you huff in annoyance over your friends antics. and for the record you’ve never said that you were over hyunjin, just that you aren’t in love with him. 

“sure y/n, whatever you need to tell yourself,” jeongin laughs, clearly thinking that he’s won this little scuffle, “you need to figure out a costume though.”

“ugh i know.” you scratch your head tentatively, “what are you going as?”

“a banana”

you can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips. is he for real?

“what’s so funny?” jeongin questions, his brow quirked. 

“really? a fucking banana?”

“what’s wrong with that?”

“it’s a dumb costume, that’s what’s wrong.”

“it’s not dumb y/n, you just have no taste.”

“oh i have plenty of taste - that’s how i can tell your costume is bad.”

“it’s not bad it’s just- why are you being such a bitch right now?”

“did you just call me a bitch??!”

“yes i did because you’re being one!!”

“okay well SORRY for telling you that your costume is STUPID!!!”

“oh yeah? well in that case good luck finding a way to jackson’s party because I’M NOT TAKING YOU ANYMORE!!!”

“FINE!”

“FINE!!”

“FUCK YOU JEONGIN!!”

“FUCK YOU Y/N!!!!!”

in a fit of blind rage you grab your bag and shove you way out of jeongin’s car, a gust of wind ruffling your clothes as he speeds off as soon as you slam the door behind you. he is totally in the wrong here. you were just being a good friend, looking out for him by telling him that he’s setting himself up to look like a total idiot.

a squeal sounds behind you as jeongin floors it away from your house, the smell of burning rubber lingering around where his car was moments ago. what an aquarius you think to yourself as you head into your house, tossing your bag to the floor with a thump as soon as you’re inside. whatever, fuck jeongin! you’ll show him that you can have fun without him.

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･˙

“okay, what about this one?”

seungmin is in your bedroom for the first time ever. 

which is weird, since the two of you have been friends for some time now. but hey, he’s here now eating chocolate covered pretzels while perched on the corner of your bed helping you pick out a costume for jackson’s halloween party.

“it’s cute.”

“... just cute? anything else?”

“i don’t know, you look… nice?”

you heave a sigh of frustration, “you know seungmin you really suck at this.”

he raises his hands in defence, “sorry! i’ve never done this before, you’re my only female friend.”

“yea yea whatever,” you command him to stop speaking with a wave of your hand, eyes flitting back and forth between the two costume options you’ve spread out on your floor and the one currently donning your body.

“so the final contenders are olive from easy a, slutty michael myers, and…” you look down at your legs, which are clad in the same black latex stockings you wore for halloween last year, “a sexy nun.”

seungmin shakes his head, “don’t do the last one, that’s blasphemous.”

“okay… sexy nun is out. i’m thinking easy a, you?”

seungmin ponders for a moment, his eyes squinted as he gazes at both the easy a and slutty mike myers costumes splayed across your carpeted floor. 

“i second that, your boobs will look killer in a corset,” he eventually attests before shoving a couple more chocolate covered pretzels in his mouth. 

you playfully smack his shoulder, “see min! you are good at choosing outfits.”

he just smirks in response before dusting the pretzel crumbs on his fingers off on his pants. with your arms full of discarded garments you head over to your closet, putting the clothing items of the unchosen costumes back in their place.

“hey can i ask you a question?” seungmin quips from your bed, where he’s now made himself comfortable by lying down and scrolling through twitter. 

“shoot,” you say while hanging up your navy blue jumpsuit.

seungmin pauses his scrolling to ask, “how come you didn’t ask jeongin to help you with this? i mean, not that i don’t like helping you or anything, but you guys are like always together.”

ugh. jeongin. just hearing his name makes you 

“we got into an argument,” you explain, opting to foresee the fact that said argument was over a fucking halloween costume, “he’s being petty, and i don’t want anything to do with him at the moment. and he keeps getting ”

seungmins brows raise momentarily before he responds, “it seems to me that both of you are being petty. also what happened with hyunjin?”

shit. you totally forgot seungmin isn’t caught up on everything that’s gone down. it’s his fault in all honesty, always opting to stay home instead of hanging out. 

“uhhh it’s nothing,” you decide now isn’t the best time to get into everything, “but hey, you’re supposed to be on my side here!”

“i am!!! but why don’t we forget about your drama and watch….. coraline. capisce?”

coraline does sound nice, so you tug on your pyjama pants and join seungmin on your bed to indulge in a fitting movie. 

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･˙

today is halloween.

today is halloween and you’re dreading it.

seungmin slept over last night and the two of you have been lounging around all day in preparation for tonight, which you are not looking forward to, what with both hyunjin and jeongin being there.

neither you nor jeongin have reached out to the other, both too stupid to be the first one to text the other and apologise. whatever, he’s the one who was up your ass about coming to this party, you’re gonna prove that you don’t have to follow him around like a lost dog at every function.

when it comes time to get ready you blast deftones and the twilight soundtrack (much to seungmins dismay) while painting your face. when it comes time to get into your outfit you recruit seungmin to help, making him stand behind you and yank the ties on your lacy black corset. with each tug you can feel the boning hug your ribs and stomach tighter and tighter before the mere action of breathing is uncomfortable.

it’s just for a couple hours you remind yourself while pulling on your black mini skirt and grabbing a pair of black sunnies from your vanity. the glossy scarlet red ‘a’ that you hand stitched onto the left breast of your corset last night glints in the mirror as you examine yourself, perfectly content with the costume you managed to pull off in less than 24 hours.

“holy shit, how can you breathe in that thing?” seungmin says as he stares at you from the same place on your bed, seemingly taken aback by the resilience of your rib cage.

“it’s for fashion, min! this halloween is all about reprisal, and i wanna look damn good while doing it.”

“okay shakespeare,” he jests before grabbing his costume from where it’s laying on the floor. it takes him a mere minute to throw on his outfit, and you envy him for it.

once you’re finally sure that you’re ready you toss a few tequila shots back in your kitchen as seungmin watches, stating he doesn’t wanna get fucked up tonight (when does he ever) but relents when you ask him to do at least one shot to keep him warm on the walk over to jackson’s.

the bite of the night autumn air has you questioning if you even want to go when you step out onto your porch, the leather jacket you borrowed from seungmin hanging from your shivering shoulders. no, you can’t back down now. with a skip in your step you all but drag seungmin off of your porch, those tequila shots slowly but surely making their way through your system.

by now many of the trick or treaters that lined the streets earlier in the evening have retired to bed, leaving the rest of the holiday to be celebrated by the mature population. so, the roads are mainly empty as you walk down them, the pavement damp and shiny.

when you arrive at jackson’s place you take pity on his neighbours, for the music is so loud it seems as if it might trigger a small earthquake. a few scattered groups of people are on the lawn but most are inside, and you can see the party raging through the front windows. seungmin doesn’t say anything, just shoots you a knowing look before the two of you make your way inside.

immediately upon entering you’re almost ploughed over by a guy in one of those blow up t-rex costumes, who barely spares a look at you before running away and continuing to wreak havoc.

“i don’t think I’m drunk enough for this min, we should just go,” you turn to leave but to your surprise are stopped by seungmin.

“come on y/n, we’re already here. let’s just stay for a bit, ok?” he reasons, and you relent with a dramatic sigh.

out of the corner of your eye you catch of glimpse of someone waving to you; actually, waving to seungmin, motioning him to head over there. you see 3 guys, one in a red power ranger suit, another in a green and yet another in a pink. the puzzle in your brain slowly pieces together as you glance down at seungmins blue power ranger suit.

don’t tell me….

the 3 guys pull off their masks at the same time, and you’re met with the grinning faces of jeongin (red), hyunjin (pink), and their friend jisung (green). and just to add more salt on the wound, a boy name felix whom you’ve meet a handful of times shows up with his friends dressed in a yellow ranger suit. stupid! you should’ve know seungmin was a part of a group costume, who would dress up as a solo power ranger?

“why didn’t you tell me that you were doing a stupid group costume with jeongin and hyunjin!” you sock seungmin in the shoulder.

“i didn’t think it mattered!” he whines while rubbing the spot where you punched him.

“well it does, because now we have to spend the whole night with them,” you whine, although what you said isn’t necessarily true. you’re just salty because seungmin is supposed to be on your side in this whole debacle, and because jeongin decided to change his costume after your quarrel in his car the other day.

much to your dismay, seungmin wraps his bony fingers around your wrist and drags you towards the group of his friends, towards your doom. as soon and jeongin realizes you’re headed this way he departs, running up the stairs like the coward he is.

“seungmin! you made it!” jisung exclaims, clearly already a couple drinks in and clearly unable to sense the tension between you and everyone else.

“haha, yep!” seungmin answers sheepishly as you wrench your wrist free from his grasp. traitor!

you sulk as you listen to felix, seungmin and jisung talk about god knows what, probably video games or baseball or something stupid. it doesn’t help that you can overhear parts of hyunjins conversation with the girl that felix brought. thankfully, you’re blessed with the gift of being able to tune everything out if you so chose, so you stand there in silence and dream about going home.

it isn’t long until you can sense a looming presence beside you, and you snap out of your stupor to see hyunjin standing only a few feet away from you. the way his eyes scan the expanse of your body doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“so,” he starts, arms widespread in a clear gesture to his costume, “what do you think?”

“geez, and people say girls dress like sluts. you know i can see your whole dick print, right?” you taunt,

“nothing you haven’t seen before,” he sneers while his eyes scan the length of your body, hyper focusing on the red ‘a’ sewn into your corset, “what…. what are you?”

how uncultured!

“olive from easy a. you know, emma stone’s character?” you state matter of factly, arms folded across your chest.

“never seen it.”

“really?” you ask, genuinely shocked since hyunjin seems to love fun cult classics. and because he’s friends with seungmin, who's seen about every movie under the sun.

“really,” he reaches over and picks up his drink from where he left it on the counter, “off topic, but a couple people about to play truth or dare in one of the bedrooms upstairs, you should come. or don’t, i don’t care.”

and with that the boy dressed as the pink ranger turns on his heel and walks away, patting whoever was dressed in the yellow ranger costume on the back as a signal to hit the road.

truth or dare? for real? didn’t realise this was a high school party.

you make your way over to seungmin, who’s busy playing with the pop tab attached to the lid of his mikes hard lemonade. it’s clear he doesn’t really plan on talking to anyone else all night, and is only here because you dragged him and he had a duty to fulfil as a result of being part of a group costume.

“they’re about to play truth or dare upstairs min, can you believe that?” you scoff, feeling your cheeks warm up as a result of the alcohol you’ve consumed.

seungmin makes a noise of agreeance, his lip quirking upwards as he responds, “for real? that game is just so…. childish.”

both of you nod before looking at the floor, you drawing small circles with your feet and seungmin playing with his pop tab again.

“but it is kinda fun, you know?” seungmin speaks up first.

“no you’re right,” silence again, and then you add, “should we go join?”

all seungmin does is nod and pass you your drink before the two of you make your way upstairs, opening to the door to a bathroom and accidentally interrupting some kind of fuck session before finding the correct bedroom and slinking inside.

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･˙

a messy circle of people meets you when you enter, with everyone sitting on the floor or bed or chairs that were definitely stolen from the dining room. there aren't a ton of people, maybe 13 or so, but you seem to know everyone at least to a certain extent.

“nice costume, y/n,” jeongin practically emerges form the shadows to sneer at you, his voice laced with poison.

“thanks jeongin, it is a nice costume. what happened to you going as a banana? did you heed my advice and finally realise it was a stupid idea?”

all he does is scoff at this, choosing not to retort for the sake of looking like the bigger person.

“jeez, you guys are really pissed at each other, huh?” seungmin remarks while grabbing your wrist and dragging you away from jeongin in case you were about to reach up and slap him.

you don’t respond, but the sour look on your face says it all.

“alright guys, let’s get this started!” hyunjin announces to the room full of people, and all of the individual chatter dies down, “the game is truth or dare, as you all know, but we wanted to make it extra frightening for halloween. jeongin?”

jeongin stalks over to hyunjin, and you’re worried for what he has planned.

“if you do not fulfil your truth or dare, you will face a penalty. that penalty is doing a shot,” he takes a breath, “and showing the entire circle the last nude you sent.”

chaos. everyone erupts in anger at jeongin’s sick idea of a punishment.

“come on jeongin, that is so over the top,” one of the other girls in the room, chaeryeong, shouts above everyone else.

all jeongin does is raise his arms in a shrug, clearly loving playing the villain. ugh, you’re so over him.

“rules are rules you guys! we want to make sure people are following through on their dares! or truths, of course.”

he does have a point there, but still, his rules are a bit excessive.

the room quiets down and a few people decide to get up and leave, opting to not take the risk of exposing themselves if they get stuck with a particularly damning truth or dare.

“great, lets get this show on the road then,” jeongin acts as the ringleader and gets everyone settled, “who wants to go first?”

“me! i wanna go!” jeongins friend felix, the yellow ranger, throws his hand in the air.

“ok felix, truth or dare?”

the rest of the party can be heard as the room falls silent to let felix think, allowing him time to ponder since he was the first to volunteer.

“i’ll go dare,” he finally announces, and a chorus of ooooo’s sound as everyone waits to hear what felix has in store for him.

“i dare you,” jeongin ponders, trying to come up with something juicy and exciting, “to give us your best strip tease!”

everyone shrieks and felix hangs his head in embarrassment before standing up, clearly not backing down from the challenge. someone turns on pony by ginuwine and everyone shrieks even louder as felix starts doing his best strip tease, filled with body rolls and thigh grabbing as he peels the top part of his yellow power ranger costume off, exposing his defined abs and smooth back in the process.

after a couple minutes everyone agrees that he’s done enough and he pulls his costume back one before plopping back down in his seat, his cheeks and ears a bright cherry red. nevertheless, a triumphant smile is plastered on his face as everyone cheers for him having successfully completed the first dare.

the game continues without a hitch; chaeryeong confesses that her first wet dream was about hiccup from how to train your dragon, seungmin has to do a blowjob shot from between felix’s legs (you almost thought he was going to accept the penalty), and you find out that the weirdest place jisung has had sex was in a mcdonald’s bathroom.

suddenly jeongin locks eyes with you and you, knowing that he’s probably had one too many drinks at this point, feel a sense of dread settle in the pit of your stomach.

“y/n! your turn, truth or dare.”

you know that whatever you choose it’s gonna be bad, so you opt to bite the bullet and just go for it.

“uhhhhhh ok, dare.”

in that moment it looks as if jeongin has quite literally embodied the devil himself and you know that you’ve chosen wrong. all you can do is brace yourself for whatever dare he’s about to challenge you to - which you’ll have to fulfill for the sake of not looking like a loser.

“i dare you,” he smiles, “to spend 10 minutes exploring lost john’s forest.”

the room goes silent.

no fucking way. does he want you to die???!!

seungmin comes to your rescue, “come on jeongin, that's a little too intense for a game, don’t you think?”

“a dare is a dare! if y/n doesn’t want to do it she’ll just have to face the penalty instead.”

everyone continues to look around the room tentatively, waiting to see what happens next. most gazes are fixed on you, eyes with with worry and excitement, but some stare at jeongin.

“come on, do you guys seriously still believe in all of those bullshit urban legends? that stuff is just for kids, we’re all adults now!” jeongin speaks up and sips his beer as if to further prove his point.

“regardless of if those rumours are true or not, don’t you think it’s unsafe for y/n to be out in a forest this late at night? you know, alone?” this comes from hyunjin, and you’re surprised he’s sticking up for you.

only after hyunjin’s comment do you see jeongin’s tough guy facade start to waver, but he holds his ground, “y/n’s a big girl, she can speak for herself.”

suddenly everyone’s gaze is on you. dear god, why on earth did you come to this party??

“you know what, fine. fiiiine!!!! i’ll do it,” you declare as you stand up, adjusting your skirt that had shifted in place while you were seated. jeongin’s face deadpans, and that alone is enough to give you the courage

“wait, how will we know if she actually goes to lost john’s forest though? what if she just waits outside and then comes back in 10 minutes later?” jisung quips, and you’re tempted to reach out and slap him across the face. bitch.

“that’s a good point,” jeongin pauses to think, “ok fine, someone should go with her to make sur-”

“i’ll go,” hyunjin volunteers before standing up a little too quickly, which is evident in the way he wobbles slightly before catching his balance.

jeongin’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull at this; it’s clear he wants you to have the worst night ever, meaning being alone in a forest with a guy you have the hots for is strictly off the table “wait no, someone else should go.”

“why? i’m fully capable of escorting y/n to and from lost john’s to make sure nothing bad happens. besides, does anyone else want to volunteer as an escort?” hyunjin retorts before waiting expectantly.

the circle of people sit there, unmoving. after a few seconds seungmin slowly moves to raise his hand but a dirty scowl from hyunjin makes him freeze.

“right then, it’s settled. let’s go y/n” he states while grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the door of the bedroom you’re in.

you look back at jeongin over your shoulder, who clearly isn’t pleased. all you do is shoot him a cheeky half smile before following hyunjin out the room, down the stairs and into the night.

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･

standing at the edge of lost johns forest, you think you might pass out.

but you neglect to tell hyunjin that.

“you ready?” he asks while shooting you a comforting look, his words have no trace of teasing or mockery.

you look at the vast expanse of trees in front you. it looks as if it stretches on forever and ever, and you gulp as you think of all the possible things that could be inside, waiting for you and hyunjin to enter before striking.

that being said, you’d rather do this with him than do it alone.

“let’s just get this over with. the sooner we’re done here the sooner we’ll get back and I can strangle jeongin.”

hyunjin laughs before offering you his hand, which you take and pray that he doesn’t care about how shaky you are.

making sure to take note of the time on your phone you head into the forest, feeling twigs and leaves snap and crunch under your feet. the exposed skin on your legs stings as a cold gust of wind blows, the trees offering minimal protection.

“you know if you ignore all of the creepy stories about this place, it’s actually quite nice. so quiet…” hyunjin aloud.

“if you’re trying to make me feel better, it’s not working.”

a branch snaps, an owl hoots, you exhale shakily. it’s dark, but the scarcity of leaves still attached to their trees allows for just enough moonlight to seep through the spindly branches. soon enough, the two of you stumble upon a small-ish clearing, opting to stay there as opposed to trekking further and getting lost.

“jesus I hate this, how long has it been?” you ask hyunjin while rubbing your arms in an attempt to wake them up.

“it’s been…. 2 minutes.”

that’s it. this is the worst experience of your life. you are actually going to kill jeongin.

“come on y/n, it’s not that bad in here. at least you have me!” hyunjin tries to comfort you, but you can tell that he’s nervous just like you are.

“please, as if you’d be able to protect me from anything,” you tease, but when hyunjin doesn’t bite back you worry that you’ve struck a nerve, “i am glad you’re here with me, though.”

“i would’ve volunteered to go with anyone, honestly.”

“really?”

“...no.”

a small smile creeps it’s way onto your face at this, and not matter how hard you try you can’t wipe it off.

“sooo you volunteered to go with me because…?”

“because i have…… feelings….” he looks at you, and then looks at the ground, “for you….”

the word that comes to mind upon hearing hyunjins confession is satisfying. satisfying because you’ve known that he’s had feelings for you since the summer, he’s just a shithead. so, you feel satisfied.

“and i know it’s probably unfair for me to say this but i can’t stop thinking about you and i know that this is also the absolute worst place to confess but-“

he doesn’t say anything after that.

he doesn’t say anything because you press your pout against his, breathing in his scent as he kisses you back.

no words need to be exchanged as you briefly pull away before going in for more, hyunjins lips your absolute favourite drug that you crave day and night. a groan escapes hyunjins mouth and he moves to wrap his hand around the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in and tugging on your hair as he pushes you yo against a nearby tree.

with your head tilted to the side you weasel your tongue past his slippery teeth and into his mouth, sliding against his own. both of you parrot each others moans of desire as your hands explore the expanse of hyunjins back and shoulders.

you feel so cold when he pulls away from you, like your only source of heat has been ripped away from you eternally. when you pry your eyes open, not before a dissatisfied huff passes your lips, you see hyunjin descending.

it appears as if he sinks to his knees in slo-mo, eyes never leaving yours as he kisses his way from your knee to the inside of your thigh. with deft fingers he reaches under your skirt and hooks the waistband of your panties around his fingers before dragging them down your legs and tossing them to the side, soon to be forgotten.

“hyunjin,” you breathe, voice already shaky as you anticipate what’s to come (you). he doesn’t say anything, just grabs your right calf and swings your leg over his shoulder, his face now a mere few inches away from your pussy. it feels as if you’re on display for his eyes only, forced to watch as he sucks and nips at your thighs while leaving dark bruises and bite marks in his wake. slowly be surely he inches closer to the place where you want- no, need him most.

when the tip of his wet, pink tongue drags through your cunt your breath catches in your throat. he continues to offer only feeble kitten licks, and soon enough it has you craving more and more, his actions not enough to fulfil the growing desire you can feel boiling inside of you.

with outstretched fingers you reach out and grip a fistful of his raven hair, pulling on it and all but shoving his face impossibly closer to your wet, hot pussy. the tip of his nose nudges your clit, and the one leg that you’re balanced on almost buckles.

“you taste so good, honey,” hyunjin confesses while lazily dragging his fat tongue through your pussy, “sweet like candy.”

“ ‘s just for you, hyun,” your heads rolls back between your shoulders, resting on the tree behind you. for the moment you elect to forget where you are, focusing on the cute boy between your legs instead of the darkness of the surrounding forest that threatens to swallow you whole.

hyunjin cycles between sucking at your clit and teasing your hole with his tongue, a combo which, although has you seeing stars, is not enough to bring you to release.

“more, jinnie,” you plea, the pet name rumbling past your lips before you can catch yourself.

“you need more, baby?” hyunjin coos while gazing up at you, his eyes foggy and plump lips swollen and glossy. the hand of his that’s been laying dormant on your thigh moves to cup your pussy, groping you before he slides his index and middle fingers through your folds.

in one deft movement he slips his digits inside of you, his tongue poking and flicking your clit at the same time. your needy whines grow louder and echo around you, the goosebumps on your skin now from arousal and not from the cold.

hyunjin continues to finger you at a relaxed pace, his mouth traversing between stimulating your aching clit and nipping at the sensitive skin of your upper thigh. his eyes never leave yours however, and you feel as if you might slip and fall into his gaze, unable to escape.

“one more?” god you sound pathetic, but you don’t care at this point, “please?”

wordlessly, hyunjin slips his ring finger into your cunt. the stretch is subtle but has you yearning for your sweet release. the grip you have on his hair tightens, and you rock your hips against his face to help bring yourself closer and closer to your orgasm. the moans that leave his mouth in response to you tugging on the roots of his hair vibrate through your core, leaving you a stuttering, whiny mess above him.

“jinnie, I think i’m gonna-“ a desperate moan escapes you when hyunjin wraps his lips around your sensitive bud once more, sucking in tandem with the thrusts of his fingers.

over the volume of your own moans and the howl of the wind you can hear the squelching of your wet pussy as hyunjin finger bangs you until you cum all over his hand, his palm and chin sticky with your juices.

your heart drums in your chest as you slowly come back to earth, the warm body between your legs now gone and standing in front of you.

hyunjin looks as if he wants to eat you, swallow you whole, with hair a mess and cheeks splotchy and pink. through his costume you can see he’s hard, his cock begging to be released from the fabric prison it’s confined to.

he kisses you again and you can taste yourself on his tongue, fighting off any embarrassment you feel with the justification that getting your pussy devoured by him felt so fucking good.

your tongue slots against hyunjins inside of his mouth, and you feel him move to push his pants and briefs down to allow his cock to spring free. his sticky warmth mouth is pulled from yours and you watch as he pumps his dick several times to get himself fully hard.

his cock is long and veiny with a slight curve that has you practically drooling all over his feet. of course you’ve seen it before, but it’s been so long and you’ve thought about it so much.

his tip is a dark shade of pink as he moves to drag it through your cunt, allowing it to kiss your still sensitive clit which sends a jolt through your body. not wanting to waste any time, hyunjin wraps the same leg that was sling over his should a few moments ago around his waist. with one hand grubbing your thigh and the other gripping the base of his cock, he slowly sinks into you, allow you to feel every inch of his aching shaft.

“oh god, hyunjin,” you cry, feeling so full after months and months of feeling so empty. hyunjin breathes through his nostrils, attempting to control himself as he bottoms out in your tight hot pussy.

the bark of the tree that you’re pinned up against scratches and digs at the skin of your shoulders and upper back but you’re too drunk on hyunjin to care. all you care about is his cock that’s fucking into you, his tongue that’s tracing your jawline, his curious hand that reaches into your corset and pulls out your breasts.

his mouth makes its way from your neck down to your chest, where he deftly takes your left nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before giving the same treatment to the other.

your legs cramp as you spread them apart as far as possible given your current position, doing your best to accommodate hyunjins dancer hips. his hips that move so fluidly against you, rolling upwards and grinding against your cunt with each thrust.

every time hyunjins tongue rolls across your tit you can feel it in your core contributing to the small fire that’s growing with every move he makes. one of your hands finds purchase in his hair again and the other finding stability by gripping his shoulder,

“jinnie, hngh-“ you stutter and whine embarrassingly, thankful for the fact that there’s no one around to hear how desperate you are. hyunjins pace picks up and he pumps his cock into you faster, harder, deeper. your limbs turn to jelly as he fucks you with no restraint.

“fuck y/n, I’m so close,” is all he can pant after pulling himself off of your tits, the hair at the base of his neck damp with sweat despite how cold it is outside. the walls of your pussy flutter around his cock as you’re on the brink of your orgasm, waiting to feel your release wash over you.

it only takes a few more thrusts to send you spiralling, creaming all over hyunjins cock as he finishes inside of you. his cum feels hot and heavy inside of you and it warms you to the core on this cold fall night.

the heat you feel in your cunt slowly begins to wane, and you whimper when hyunjin pulls his now soft cock from your hole that’s dripping with his cum; some of it sticks to your thighs.

with a chaste kiss to your lips hyunjin pulls away, fixing himself up before helping you adjust your corset and reaching down to grab your phone that had fallen to the forest floor.

the blue screen almost blinds you when you turn it on, and you’re met with several missed texts from jeongin.

[12:55] jeongin: okay y/n it’s been like 15 minutes you guys can come back now

[1:03] jeongin: seriously y/n it’s been a while, people are starting to worry

[1:04] jeongin: not me of course, but other peopl

[1:16] jeongin: ok y/n this isn’t funny anymore, i get that you’re pissed at me but seriously you guys need to come back

[1:19] jeongin: unless…. the lost john legends are true

[1:19] jeongin: oh god

“this shithead,” you mutter, opting to leave him on read for now

you glance at hyunjin, who’s standing there awkwardly, looking at the moon through the branches of the trees.

“do you wanna come back to my place? i don’t really feel like going back to the party,” he says in a way that seems like he’s bracing himself for you to say no, “we can watch easy a? you know, since i’ve never seen it.”

you stretch out your hand, encouraging him to take it.

“yea, I’d like that,” you say before the two of you make your way out of the forest before strolling down the street under the yellow glow of the moon

.･:*◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ ҉ ◢▅◣Ξ ҉ ◥▅◤☾*:･

a/n: apologies if the smut seems rushed I wrote it on a bus lol

[elizzsush]

Escape Reality | Part 0

PAIRINGS: Batfam X Reader (platonic), Jason Todd X Reader (romantic)

—Why did you choose to get a dog? And why did you choose to walk him before the beginning of a storm? Well… you can’t say you regret it.

AU/Trope: Isekai

Rating: SFW (as always)

❥ [Part 0] - [Part 1] (not yet out)

________________________________

A/Note: Heavily inspired by the amazing and incredible @daydreams-to-passages ! They wrote something I hadn’t even thought of which evolved into this fic! I really just expanded on their ideas so this is like 70% them! This is a little short but it's really just a prologue.

Oh, and lastly: if you know me IRL no you fucking don’t!

________________________________

When you got a dog… well, every dog owner knows the joys of walking their perfectly well behaved dog. It's sometimes the best thing in the world! If you were to pick up into a light jog, your puppies ears would flap up and down- his fur blowing back as a nice breeze and cool weather egg you on for more of that same old walking.

But no, when you got a dog… well let’s just say you weren’t prepared to actually own a dog. You had just moved to New York, into a shitty cramped apartment, and you were lonely and depressed and what’s a good fix for all that? Getting a dog! A larger then a corgi sized dog. Weighing in at around 50 pounds was your new pride and joy! Your new terror and the reason why you now stay up later thinking “why the hell did I get a dog when I can’t afford my own food?” You made a choice and now your life was unraveling around you because of said choice.

But… you also felt guilty. It wasn’t erm… “Fido”’s choice to live with you. So you’d buy his food before your own just to make sure you can afford his, and you’d try and take him on walks every single day. Because, that small crappy apartment is doing nothing for “Buddy”…?

So yes, walking a dog is so relaxing and fun! If you can afford to take the time or buy training classes where they teach him how to… walk on a leash.

BARK BARK BARK!!

“The pigeons are gone, dude!” You huff and tug him away from the side of the sidewalk- across you was the park, where a lovely old women was feeding birds. Keyword: was. You dog… “bear”, was so unstimulated and just badly behaved… it often left you so very embarrassed and put out. So even after “Baxter” started his walk on again- satisfied with his bird scaring talents, he still tugged forward because you were apparently too slow by his standards. So, walking “Max” was great! Amazing even. What wasn’t great was… well you had hoped you’d be home by now, you had read the weather was getting cloudier but hey- a little water never hurt anyone?

Except everyone on the titanic.

The worst part? The damn dog was loving every bit of the rain, he even sat his ass down to chop on the rain above him!! Everyday you were a little more convinced he hated you… just when things couldn’t have been worse, a stupid DUMB cat appeared! It ran right in front of you and “buster” into an alley!

Listen, you had calmed down on the leash tugging since the damn dog sat down- you didn’t expect a cat! So yes, Mr “Duke” got away from you… THE FUCKING DOG GOT AWAY FROM YOU. You gave chase after a cat and a dog… no you’ll totally win this race!

And if you couldn’t have been miserable enough, you hit a fucking brick wall…

But… hey wait, you could have sworn you dog and that cat went this way…

Your nose was bleeding, you had checked it with your hand… and now you were blacking out. Thunder struck and that was the last thing you saw…

Then you died, much like the second robin did.

Actually, he died pretty heroically and was murdered by a super villain. You ran into a wall.

You also didn't die.

"What the actual fuck." You whined as you sat up and held you head. Great, now you had a headache on top of this rain... You were in an alleyway still. Sadly, that didn't change since you passed out. But for some reason it felt... colder? The whole neighbor streets turned dark and cold you realized once you stood up walked around. Everything just looked duller, less color, it felt like an invisible fog laid across the streets. The rain picked up harder, like some God or deity was trying to wash the city away. The building had turned to cool greys and blacks with pops of graffiti in the long narrow alleys. "What the actual fuck?" You spun around to look at more of... where you supposedly lived, trying to figure out what just happened.

In the distance, you can hear erm... your dog barking. Panic swelled in your chest like an ugly bruise. Darting towards the sound you calmed down slightly when you saw your dog sat nicely staring at a man. A man who was eating a hot dog in the pouring rain...

"No can't have my chili dog," scolded a black-haired stranger as you finally see your beloved dog. Both of them were standing under something, protecting the male from the rain while your poor pouch was already a wet dog. Just when the stranger was about to cave to your dog's whims and argumentative barks you shouted out.

"Dog," You yelled out and the pup's ears perked up. still, you pup was still for once in his life and not causing... too much trouble. His attention was now on you, but he still didn't move away from the man with food.

This action- or lack of action made you sigh. Glancing around, you couldn't help but notice the complete lack of people nearby.

"Dog, what does it not got a man?" The man asked absentmindedly, like he was more talking to himself then he was to you. Thankfully you had just closed the gap between the two of you when he said it, so you didn't miss his words.

Admittedly, you didn't give your dog a name... Nothing seemed to stick out or fit. "No- His name is uh... Dog..." You tried to defend yourself against the- on second glance- attractive male.

"You named your dog... Dog?" He raised an eyebrow, and you shrunk in a little more on yourself.

"Erm... Yes?" You doubled down...

"Okay," He accepted it with a little blink, and you'll miss it eyeroll. "Does Dog know any tricks?" He asked as he finished his hotdog and knelt down to pet... Dog.

You blushed a bit because... You hadn't taught Dog any tricks yet. You had gotten him a months ago, so he was still a somewhat fresh face... "He knows sit." He knows the basics of sit; his success rate with that trick was 30%, this stranger didn't need to know that though.

The stranger hummed like he didn't believe you. He shouldn't have but you still felt offended.

Wait, this guy looked a lot like... It was the black hair with a little white streak in it really, it reminded you so strongly of the second robin even to his leather jacket.

"Are you cosplaying," came out of your mouth before you could even think about the words properly. With a hand now smacked onto your mouth you looked away from the man with a hint of humiliation at his confused expression. "I mean- You'd make a really good Jason." You corrected only to see the male give a more... curious look.

"Todd, from DC," You added, hoping to clear away his curiosity. "Jason todd..." You added more when you realized this was probably getting nowhere, and you weren't in a place mentally to describe the whole robin situation- nor would he probably care enough...

"DC? Do you mean WE?" The male corrected with a hint of a smirk, like he knew something you didn't. "He's that guy's son, right? Before he died."

You couldn't help but frown. "Well yeah- I mean he came back... Are we talking about the same thing?" You sighed, looking at you pup now. You should really just take him home- cut the walk short. Just when you thought of that however, the stranger seemed to find that perfect spot behind Dog's ear and he leaned more into the Ex-Robin look-a-likes hand,

"He came back?" The male questioned; you just shook your head. You had gotten into a DC rant one to many times to get into one now, in the middle of pouring rain. While you sighed to yourself about that, you missed his suspicious looked and the way he began to eye you...

"What's WE?" You asked instead.

That was when he looked at you as if you didn't know anything. "You don't know Wayne Enterprises?"

[blacklegsanjiii]

Aahh your addition to actually girl sanji was amazing ✨ thank you

Its so funny to have them realising all the way to WCI/Wano, theyre all so silly. ALSO CHOPPER- He's new to the crew and giving them all a check up to get up to date with their physicals and he's all like 'dont worry Sanji your secret is save with me!! I wont tell anybody!!' And sanji thinks he's actually talking about the nr 3 burnmark (hc of mine that judge labeled all his children) so she's very thankful to him

Omg and the ship options... To many possibilities to choose from... Luffy going 'HES NOT A PRETTY BUT SHES A PRETTY GIRL?!!' Literally no fucks given nothing changes but he looveess the clothes and makeup nami gives sanji to wear (the liploss tastes like fruit and the dress fabric is so softt!!!)

Or sanami... Nami feeling attracted to sanji even though she's a lesbian and heaving a sexuality crisis cause is she bisexual??? But no she's still a major lesbian (or even funnier no attraction until its 'stupid guy -> stupid girl??!!!'

Honestly east blue poly would be funny as hell, so many possibilities

Also (sorry im rambling) SHES ZEFFS LITTLE GIRL 💥💥when she left with luffy, zeff 100% threatened the shit out of him (he also did this in canon but with his mind UvU) idk i fucking adore zeff and sanji protective of each other

And lastly??? All the regulars knowing??? Amazing, show stopping, ground breaking. Theyre coming to the baratie not seeing the cute waitress and when asked the staff says she has become a pirate cook of the strawhats

But whenever there's news its always talking about a guy and the wanted pictures are not so helpfull... So many possibility...

Have a nice day! Hope you had/have fun at your con :D

I'm so glad you enjoyed them! Fem!Sanji is fun to write, especially when no one knows she's a girl because how can you not know? She is Zeff's little girl! The dumb brat he gave up a leg for on a rock! She is his pride and joy, and everyone knows this!! Also, I love the idea of the burn mark and the confusion therein for Sanji because Chopper thinks she's trans masc when she's not, she's just waiting for her mom's genes to kick in more. Also the shipping, I agree with East Blue Polycule because you can fit all that in together in one go and no one is going ask questions. But I'm getting ahead of myself and skipping to the regulars first so that I can get some funny scenarios out of my head first.

First, Mihawk has watched this girl grow up and probably saw the fall out after shortly after Zeff butchered her hair. When he asked about it, he gave Zeff the most unimpressed look Zeff has ever received because good fuck he could have just braided it until they got into town? That's all he says about that because Sanji is still upset her hair is gone. Then some years later he's calling Zeff and asking when Sanji changed her gender and Zeff is confused because she hasn't but anyone and everyone are calling her a boy, even that crew she set off with. Mihawk is staring out of his office with the denden with an empty gaze as the greenhaired moron he almost slaughtered on the deck of Baratie is in his castle with one of his fellow warlords first mates and he's having a time but at least that hasn't changed.

Buggy is also probably really confused about 'Black Leg Sanji' and "his feats" and when Garp is arresting him they're debating whether or not Sanji would be a good marine until Garp calls her a boy and Buggy corrects him. Garp is staring down at the clown who looks back and is like 'wait, wait. Zeff's called her "princess" and you never questioned why he would call his son that?' to Garp's non-committal shrug of 'He's Zeff.' which, okay yeah, sure. It's Zeff but Zeff never used it in a derogatory manor. Sanji is quite literally his princess. She is the princess of the Baratie that Buggy used to do card tricks for because Zeff had no idea what the hell to do with kids.

Now onto the hilarity because East Blue Poly would be exceptionally hilarious. They all start dating and Sanji thinks Nami is going through a sexuality crisis because she's a girl where as Nami thinks Sanji's a boy and it's never cleared up. Sanji looks particularly butch because it made her life easier at Baratie, and she doesn't want to ruin dresses and skirts and blouses with cooking or blood. She also just never really wore make up unless Baratie was closed for some celebration or something, when she had a reason to doll up because she was so busy. Also she wakes up and goes to bed before and after everyone else so no one catches she's a girl. I think the hilarious exception of Ace clocking it in Alabasta and telling Luffy he's got the prettiest girl and the best cook wrapped in one is an amazing thing and Luffy goes with it but still asks why Ace called Sanji a girl and Ace is confused now. They never clear it up.

When Sanji is training and everyone is talking about forcing her into dresses Sanji is like 'I don't need to be forced, I love dresses! I just don't like ruining them with blood.' and coming back to Sabaody with a few dresses, skirts, blouses, more fem clothing and everyone is like 'you don't have to wear those if they make you uncomfortable' is sending some weird messages to her so she just doesn't wear them still. For the wrong reasons and everyone is confused. Like WCI when Sanji's in her wedding dress and fighting and mourning the blood on the dress and Luffy and Nami are asking her why she's in one because she doesn't wear that stuff and Sanji says she thought they didn't like them on her and the very quick explanation of 'we thought you were a boy!' is Sanji going 'How?' as Nami complains she had a sexuality crisis for nothing until Luffy asks about him, Zoro, and Usopp; Nami concedes that the crisis wasn't for nothing then.

Nami makes sure she's in a kimono like she and Robin are as an apology because they didn't realize that Sanji was a girl and was just dressing for convenience, she's not a boy and was a princess and she is loved.

Also my con was lovely but I'm so glad it's over.

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

Apple pie

part 1

part 2

my angels! sorry i’ve been so busy i’ve been so excited to post this for you guys and am actively writing chapter four as WE SPEAK. thank you guys again sm for 600 followers ugh i cry. MUAH.

DISCLAIMER: IF YOU WERE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW/DARK CONTENT OR ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH MY BLOG. MUAH.

Warnings: Talks about sex and mentions of hookups, mentions of yelling and crying, slight obsessive and stalking behaviors, just tons of angst- enjoy it.

Word count: 2,307

Days turn into weeks; weeks turn into a month. A month of you not even seeing Leon. You shouldn’t have grown attached to him in only three days, but what did he expect? You didn’t know if you were angry or if you were just sad. You now felt anger daily walking up the sidewalk to see his yard dying. He’s home, that’s the thing. All of his windows are now covered with black curtains. And it made you so.. angry.

He knew how to press your buttons too—pulling his curtains open and popping open his windows right before he left for his long night out. Listening to his Jeep pull out of his driveway, then come back hours later, the sound of him and some random woman laughing. Your eyes peered over your book as you watched Leon and said woman walk into his house, and before they even reached the bedroom, he was tugging at her sweater, her hands holding his chest. Stupid motherfucker. His eyes open as he sloppily kisses the woman, looking at you through the window as his shirt gets tugged off. The way his jaw fucking moved as he hungrily kissed the black-haired woman back. You’ve never stood so fast, trying to make it seem like you didn’t care as you closed your blinds. At least trying to sleep, shoving your pillow into your ear at the exaggerated cries and moans coming from Leon’s house.

But even though it hurts, you still get that aching feeling for him. To make him another pie or even a whole dinner and just knock on his door, apologize? You would say sorry if it meant you could see him smile again. And since it’s just shy of May, your strawberries are blooming. You knew they were coming in, and it gave you some joy for the first time in a while.

You woke up so early this Saturday morning, getting the small black basket sitting by your sink and running outside, a loud squeal of joy leaving your lips at the bright red strawberries. At least 15 of them too. Your fingers carefully tugged at the small stems, putting all of them into your basket. You let them sit in the vinegar bath for an hour, then run them over ice-cold water and put them in the freezer for exactly an hour so they’re cold and just a bit crisp. You stare down at your notepad as you lean against the counter, quickly writing

“I hope everything is going well! With love, your neighbor.”

You bite your lip as you stare at the basket of perfect strawberries before grabbing them and walking out your door. Your lawn is your pride, staring at your flowers before you walk down the sidewalk and up Leon's driveway. You stare at his door for a while, your hands gripping the basket in your hands as you regret your decisions. Maybe turn back while you can. He obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. Yet you want to talk to him. Your knuckles meet the door, your breathing stops as you just stand there. You stand there for a while too, looking around the porch before your eyes squeeze shut as you bend over, laying the basket on his welcome mat and walking back to your house.

———————————-

Leon jogs every morning, and it’s the perfect excuse to stare at your house without seeming like a weirdo again. His breathing labored as he slowed his jog as he hit your yard, his eyes looking at the strawberry bush to see that they finally bloomed and you had picked them. He couldn’t help but feel happy- happy knowing you had something to make you smile. He knew you’d been waiting on them for a while.

When he finally gets home, his breath steadies as he pulls the water bottle from his fridge, taking a long drink.

Then there’s a knock on the door. His head turns towards his entryway, listening to the knock echo through his hallway. Maybe it’s the mail? He would be happy even to see his boss. His footsteps are quiet and careful as he walks to the door, his body carefully leaning against it as he peers out the peephole.

Fuck.

You’re just standing there, strawberries in hand as you glance around his porch. His chest grows tight as you go to knock again but stop yourself, resting the strawberries on his welcome mat. He wanted nothing more than to swing open the front door and ask how you’d been. How’s work? How’s your garden? His eyes close as he presses his forehead against the door, he reaches over, pushing his black curtain aside as he watches you shut your door.

And he immediately swings his front door open, grabbing the small basket and shutting the door yet again. He sets them on his dining room table, his fingers grazing where your hands once held at the small handles. His eyes skim over the note, the little heart you put at the end. Yet he grabs it, crumbles it up and throws it away.

—————————————-

You gave him all your strawberries; you didn’t even try any yourself. This made your eyes water, the familiar wetting of your cheeks making you immediately rub at your skin. The noise of your house phone ringing makes you jump, your sniffling stopping as you slowly walk to the kitchen, pick up the phone and press it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“They were good. Would’ve made a perfect pie.”

Leon’s voice rings through your ears, your eyes immediately shooting towards his house, but disappointment shades your face as you see his curtains closed.

“Yeah, they were perfectly ripe. I'm glad you enjoyed them.”

Leon’s hand tapped at his window seal, staring at the empty basket of strawberries on his dining table.

“My lawn is dying.”

Leon’s chuckle makes your heart flutter as you nod your head, a small laugh leaving your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, I noticed actually.”

Your laugh makes his heart flutter.

The silence on the line is painful. Listening to Leon’s soft breaths on the other end.

“Goodnight.”

Leon’s voice sounded so friendly as he smacked the phone down. His breath increases before he grabs the small black basket, throwing it against his wall.

—————————-

You’ve been working too many extra shifts. The doubles turn into triples, sleeping on your breaks and downing black coffee. You get maybe four hours of sleep before you’re up again, throwing your hair up and dotting concealer under your eyes so you don’t look as dead.

Leon notices this new routine too, watching you run out the door at five in the morning, speeding down the street. When he finally sees your car out of view, he steps down his porch, his shoes crunching against the dying grass of his lawn as he walks over to yours. The grass was drying out and your flowers looked sad. Leon stared at the bushes for a few seconds before he walked over to your hose, twisting at the small handle before filling up your watering pot. He somewhat knew how you watered your plants, somewhat. After filling the pot, he let the hose spill water into your dying grass before carefully pouring the water over your bushes, making sure to get the roots and the dirt first and slowly make his way up the flowers.

When he finished, he ran his finger over one of the leaves, nodding before he placed your pot back, tangling up your hose once more and going back inside.

Leon did this for two weeks. Noticing that you were finally slowing down on shifts, he stopped; his black curtains draped open as he watched you step out into your lawn in the morning, staring confusedly at your plants. You knew they probably should be dead right now, your eyes narrowing at the healthy flowers.

—————————-

It couldn’t be Leon right?

Since it was coming up Summer, you were shocked Leon hadn’t been pulled out of town yet. He hasn’t been leaving much though, and when he did come back you always wanted to run out of the house to help him up his porch but his random women always seem to help him just fine.

Saying Leon wasn’t handsome would be the biggest lie. Lightning would come down from the sky and strike you. A quick google search also gave you maybe a bit too much information about him- pictures of him with the president, or him getting awards pinned to his chest, his name on memorial blocks, and way too much more. How have you never heard of him? The man has conspiracy rants about him online.

It made you even wonder if he did work for the local PD. You stared at your phone on the wall, biting at your nails with your laptop in your lap. You’re almost a whole bottle of wine deep? Why can’t you feel it? Your eyes went from reading the king article to scanning for your clock at the sound of pounding at your door.

Midnight?

This isn’t a bad neighborhood.. you felt your stomach steep as you looked around but you had no sort of self-defense mechanism at all. Maybe call Leon?.. No, no, don't call Leon. Now you really felt that wine as you stood up, tripping over yourself a bit and catching yourself as you walked towards the door. Your fingers at the small window by your door and your heart sinks at the sight of Leon staring at your door, watching his chest rise before he pounds on the door again making you flinch before you swing it open, the man staring at you.

Before you could even speak, he groans out in frustration at the sight of you.

“You called the fucking police department to check my employment status?”

This isn’t the usual Leon voice, he sounds pissed off and he is. And it’s valid.

———————-

You may have been in your own world, dozing off to the thought of whatever the fuck you do.

Leon's heavy breath filled his room as he pushed himself into the girl below him, closing his eyes, refusing to look at her before there was a ring on his phone. When he throws it down putting it on do not disturb, he can’t help but almost scream out of frustration as he pulls out of the girl, walking to his phone.

“Hello?”

“Control your little neighbor pet, Leon. Guess who called the police station asking for you drunk as ever. You’re lucky I didn’t call your boss.”

Leon hung up so fast, staring at his wall as he mumbled to the girl on his bed to leave, listening to her shuffle her way out of his house. He pulled his pants up, buckling his belt and tugging his black t-shirt back on as he stormed out of his house, marching to your door.

———————————-

You just scoffed as you looked at Leon, your hand gripping your door as he just stared at you with his sharp eyes.

“I didn’t do anything.”

Leon shook his head at the smell of the wine on your breath, looking past you to see your laptop and wine on your couch. Leon pushed passed you, grabbing the laptop on your couch and holding it in his arm as he scrolled through your search history.

“Get out!”

You’ve been googling him for hours, pinning websites to your pin bar. Leon slammed the laptop shut, staring at you. Your eyes are so soft, tears threatening your eyes as you watch him. It’s only been three months and he was obsessed with you. You followed his lead, slowly driving yourself to become obsessed with him.

Everything he did was in your favor. When you were overworking yourself, he made a really special visit to the diner, threatening your dick of a boss to hire somebody else or he would face severe consequences. The weeds in your garden, changing his entire schedule to revolve around you.

Leon was so obsessed with the thought of you, living this life where you and him could be perfect. It’s an unrealistic and stupid thought- honestly, it was fucking insane, clinical. Yet he just knew he had to stay away. He felt like everything he touched crumbled below his fingers, and if you somehow slipped from him, it would break him.

Watching the way your eyes water made that familiar ache start to form in his chest. He handed you your laptop, his hands visibly shaking.

He was walking away from you- again. You felt the tears slip from your eyes and you screamed at yourself. Don’t cry, don’t let him show you how you affect him so horribly. He reached for the doorknob but you couldn’t help but watch his back as you quickly wiped your hands, grabbing at his arm.

“Leon please..”

Hearing your voice crack made Leon’s heart erupt into flames, his hands suddenly stopped shaking as he turned back to you, his face a bit softer as you let go of his arm, your eyes still glossy. Your cheeks that light shade of pink, your lips slightly parted. His head shook as he took a small step forward, grabbing at the sides of your face before he slammed his lips against yours. And the way your hands reached up, it made him want to stay so badly. To hold you the rest of the night, he gently pushed you, not enough to hurt you, just to make you stumble, still looking up at him. But before you could even look, he was gone, and the door slammed again in your face. Leaving you stranded in your quiet living room.

———————————————————————-

taglist!

@bimbo-baggins86 @karmasshit @cweampier @wh0islyuri @ovaryacted @arianna-irwynarn @smallp00ks @xxacademy @x4ver1a @cryptkillo @darthdidi

[emin-folly]

Maybe this is a stupid question, but what do you think Eobard does in his free time? Like, does he have a daily schedule? A color-coded calendar with reminders how to fuck with Barry? Is he still a professor? Like, what does he DO when he isn't actively fucking up someone's life? Sry, I just got interested in him very recently, and the comics are chaotic lol

Hello~! I'm very happy to be the first to welcome you to Yellow Rat hell <3 He's such a fascinating, tragic, horrid gremlin of a man, and he definitely deserves more fans aha. As someone who reads comics, I can confirm it's not you, they can be very confusing and all over the place xD

And no, that's not a stupid question, not at all! He is shown not to always be around to bother Barry for months at a time, so it's entirely reasonable to wonder where he goes a lot of the time~ Some ideas of what he could be possibly doing are but not limited to:

Tending to his beloved museum. Aside from Barry, this is one of the very few things he treasures deeply. It's his pride and joy as well as his home. We all know he's established to be the curator of the museum and has provided tours to the public, but it's very unclear if he continued with that after becoming Reverse Flash. While he might've, I feel like there's too many reasons why he wouldn't. One being that the Renegades know his secret identity and I'm pretty sure that would ruin a lot of business for him lol. Plus with Eobard's mentality, I think he would be just too distracted, too frantic with his need to focus on Barry to do his day job

Now this is more of a fun headcanon my friend, Ftl were talking about that I since adopted where Eobard likes to pop back into the past, right before a major event or disaster, whether just as a bystander or a instigator. And of course, he always manages to run into Vandal Savage, so much to the point now that Vandal now associates him as a omen for things to come

He is canonically shown to go and bother/mess with Thomas Wayne a handful of times. This is significant as normally he really doesn't go out of his way for anyone that's not Barry/Flashfam member more than he absolutely has to. He doesn't even go after Hal. The only people he seems to be genuinely interested in and fixated on are those who have (willingly) killed him. Thomas may not rank as high as a priority as Barry, naturally, but he definitely counts as a hobby at least

There was also that time in Flash Age, where Eobard got to play the role of savior of Central City in his own era. He genuinely seemed to enjoy being the hero but, well, if you read to the end, you'll see why that most likely won't be happening again heh

Now this one is a lot more jokey, but in a DC Holiday Special, there's one panel in the last story that shows Eobard enjoying a game of poker with the Anti Monitor along with some other characters, so take from that what you will~

Now, as for your question about him still being a Professor, that's also really not explained in depth. They never really cement exactly what he's a Professor of, but considering him, it's most likely history and/or the Speed Force. In some comics he does have students, in others it works mostly as just a title and then sometimes it's not referenced at all, but it's safe to assume he still is one aha

I also don't really see him having a daily routine. The way I see it, Eobard is so far removed from being human, he doesn't really need to eat, sleep, or do personal hygiene lol But I really love your calendar idea! It would definitely look something like: "Fuck with Barry" "Fuck with Barry" "Fuck with Barry" "Fuck with Barry/Visit Daddy Bat" "Fuck with Barry/Die" "Askdhsgkdbjk" "Poker night" 😂

Also, I know it's not really canon but I really enjoy the idea of him painting. Eobard is a gifted child and a genius, he can master practically anything he sets his mind to. IDK why painting of all things, but it just kinda seems right. Bonus points if he uses it to replace original paintings in the past with his LOL

Overall, sadly, we don't get to see all the mischief he gets up to when not tormenting Barry, only tidbits. But hey, that just gives us some creative freedom to come up with fun ideas ourselves~

[my-own-walker]

what dating warren lipka is like (evan as him not the real person)

note: thank you @luv4evan for this headcanon request! evan’s warren is the perfect level of chaos i think he’s my soulmate.

+++

He’s a chaos demon. Unapologetically.

So when you’re in public, he always gets these contrived ideas to do stupid things.

He’s one of those guys that pretend-proposes all day in somewhere like Disneyland just to embarrass you.

He’s even gone as far as to tell waiters at restaurants that you two are celebrating your marriage/engagement/etc. just to get free dessert.

Warren is super protective. Like don’t step to his girl or he’s coming for you.

You and he smoke together frequently. He’s a huge pothead, you not so much.

He kinda got you into it so you’re not as fanatical about the whole thing. He, however, lit up like a Christmas tree when you agreed to smoke with him for the first time.

You’re his pride and joy so when you express interest in anything he enjoys, it’s like magic to him.

Warren is one to hide his emotions until they come to a boiling point. He can act strong for so long, but one thing pushes him over the edge and he loses it.

Never at you though, he may punch a wall, but never even in your presence.

The anger only comes out when he’s alone. When he’s with you, if something really upsets him, he’s a blubbering baby.

He’s always trying to make you laugh.

Will never make a serious face in photos. He’s a reluctant subject when you attempt to take photos of him.

He is always game for a photostrip sesh at one of those booths in the mall though. You make him take at least one serious pic, but the other three he’s free to be as silly as he’d like.

Big on PDA. Big on it. Like he wants the whole world to know you’re his. He is never not touching you in some way when you’re around others.

Parties are a huge example. He will not leave you alone at parties. He makes sure you’re safe and always in his sight.

Sex with him is intense usually. He’s a fan of ripping clothes, wall-fucking, and the like. He’s a lot less vanilla than you’d think.

But he never oversteps. He follows your lead and if you’re not comfortable with something he won’t force you.

But if you’re okay with handcuffs or spanking he’s not gonna say no…

Overall he’s super passionate. He feels strongly and deeply. He just wants you to know how loved you are by him.

[mariademetal]

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ kitty itadori yuuji / gn!reader ©mariademetal 2024

cw ... yuuji calls reader babe, blood(?) but nothing violent and no vivid description of a wound, if there's anything else lmk note ... haiii welcome to my lil established relationship yuji fic in which he is a stupid cat dad this is HEAVILYYYYY based on my experiences with kittens (every single kitten i've ever owned has shat on my bed once, as if just to get it out of their system before devoting themselves to a litter box) and the many fatal injuries i've received from them..... word count ... 3.1k

At first, you're the one that's apprehensive about bringing the cat home.

It's a little brown thing that ambushes you at the foot of your apartment's stairs, and who was very fun playmate for the first twenty minutes it followed you around, but got to be a little more trouble than you thought it might be worth after locking into climbing you like a tree and tearing a hole in your jeans in the process. At which point, you decided that while your hangout sesh was a lot of fun, it's time for your friend to go back to its mother.

To its fortune, just as you steel your resolution to leave your new friend at the bottom of the staircase on which it first attacked you, Yuuji shows up— of course he does— and decides as soon as his eye catches the claws hanging off of your shirt that he will simply keel over and die if the two of you don't foster the kitten.

"What if her last owners neglected her?" He pleads with you, looking you with the most convincing sad brown eyes you've seen in a moment while he speaks. (All while his new best friend bites his finger like it's made out of something positively delicious.) You're in the worst place in the world for this discussion, you think, still sitting at the bottom of that damned staircase. The fact that Yuuji will have won the moment you move into your apartment with that kitten keeps you in place at the price of your pride.

"Look at how fat she is, Yuuji," you gesture to her, and you can't even remember at what point in your heated discussion it became her. "What if her owners love her dearly and are waiting for her to come home? I'm not going to... catnap her."

"What if her mother died and she's looking for a new one?" He keeps asking these stupid hypothetical, rhetorical questions that prove nothing but still annoy you to no end. Not to mention the way he's cradling her in his arms— you have no doubt that by new mother he means himself.

"We already have a kid," you grit out. By kid, you don't mean an actual child, but rather a betta fish that Inumaki dared you to buy six beers deep and who you, unfortunately, discovered you could not return the morning after, nor ever. Yuuji stepped up as his father when you proved to be a little bit too absent as a single parent to him, and he's alive and thriving to this day, albeit in a tank you doubt is quite the recommended size. "What if she eats Fish? He's my pride and joy."

At this, Yuuji stops and thinks. "Aren't Nobara and Maki looking for a cat?"

"I think so," you hum, and tentatively reach over Yuuji's lap to rub your little enemy's stomach.

"Lets just take care of her until they're ready to take her," he smiles at you, tight-lipped and hopeful. "I'll make sure she doesn't eat Fish. I'll scoop her shit and feed her too."

You take your hand back to allow another tenant to pass between you and Yuuji and lean your head against the railing with a sigh. It's a bad idea and you know it. As much as you'd love to think you and Yuuji are ready to take care of a cat, dedicate the time and care it needs to it, you just can't. But if Yuuji says he'll take care of her just for the meantime, you know he means it. "... Alright. But the second she fucks with Fish, she's gone."

As it turns out, Kitty, as you and Yuuji have intermittently named her to match with Fish, is an only slightly worse roommate than Yuuji. If you were to rank everyone in your apartment by how much you all contribute, it'd go something like this— Fish in first place, obviously, for all the joy he gives you and Yuuji, as well as causing the least mess; you in second, for feeding and raising Fish up; Yuuji in third for cooking and paying the bills; Kitty at dead last for shitting all over your comforter on the first night she stays with you and having the audacity to beg you for food come morning.

Yuuji had prepared in every way he could think of— he bought her a litterbox, plenty of food for kittens, a collar (just until Maki or Nobara take her to get chipped), and enough catnip to plant a field. And, for what it's worth, when you’d first brought her into your apartment, just before Yuuji left to buy her supplies, she was an angel. She was the calmest you'd seen her the whole evening, carefully sniffing the floor of your apartment, sneaking up behind corners, checking for any harm that might come her way. So preoccupied with discovering this new, unknown land that she doesn't even acknowledge Fish's existence. It was only after she'd settled in that he ran to get her kitten things.

Naturally, Yuuji didn't think to check if Kitty actually knows how to use the elegant litter box he'd so diligently set up for her in your bathroom, so where you were expecting to sleep in and wake up to your boyfriend peppering your face with kisses, you instead wake up at the asscrack of dawn to the feeling of him jerking your blanket off of you (and the rest of your bed, you suppose), Kitty watching him from the floor with what you can only describe as morbid curiosity.

"Yuuji, what...?" You croak out, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

Then, the smell hits you, and you're confident you're not falling back asleep.

While Yuuji washes your blanket and lectures Kitty on the proper, sanitary way to relieve herself, you sprinkle some food in Fish's tank.

You stare down Kitty, who, in Yuuji's temporary absence, has taken to frolicking around your flat, as if she isn't a criminal, as if she didn't ruin your favorite duvet, and with a glare that softens by the second, you scoop out a can of cat food into a bowl and put it on the floor for her, despite the fact that Yuuji swore he’d take care of feeding her.

For what it's worth, you have to appreciate that, at the very least, she hasn't so much as glanced in Fish's direction. Despite how vehemently you're denying it at the moment, Kitty is, in fact, tearing and clawing and shitting her way into your heart— but if she does come to stay with you for any extended period of time, you'd rather it be one in which you don't have to constantly move Fish further and further away from her reach in order to keep him safe.

Fish, your first and beloved son— an accident, sure, but the happiest you've made in your life. There have been nights where you have been one dry heave away from throwing up your stomach in its entirety, and the only thing that could get you to stand up and drink some water was Fish, blub-blub-blubbing in his own, urging you with bulbous eyes to take care of yourself (because if you don't, you can't take care of him).

He's a selfish child, but all children are, you suppose. It’s their right.

Kitty finishes her food with a satiated meow and barely makes the three-foot journey to your coffee table before dropping down onto her side and passing out. It's an adorable sight, obviously, but one that also reminds you that that could've been you this morning if only she hadn't emptied her bowels onto your blanket.

Yuuji comes back to your apartment, empty-handed and head hung low, and you already know what he’s going to tell you; “Your blanket didn’t make it, babe.”

All you can do is sigh and throw your arms up. “I’ll pick up another one after work.”

Thankfully, after that fateful morning, Kitty didn’t have many other shit-related accidents. It was incredible, really, how easily she managed to fit into your life, how easily she forced you to carve time out of your day to spend with her instead— she sleeps on your couch since you tragically banned her from your bedroom, wakes you up like an alarm clock, consistently, to give her breakfast, and lazes around your apartment in tandem with you and Yuuji scurrying around to get ready for your respective days. You have class in the morning, he has work, and you always come come back just in time to deliver Kitty and Fish’s lunch. You’ve also found that Kitty has a taste in television— she screams at you whenever you put on Rupaul’s Drag Race, out of excitement or prejudice you can’t quite find out, and curls up into a ball in the crook of your elbow whenever you watch Seinfeld. Then, Yuuji comes back from work and if you don’t have plans, the four of you eat dinner together like a bonafide family.

Tonight, you don’t have plans, but Nobara, who has been promising to call you about Kitty for the past month you’ve had her has finally caught you on your phone.

“Of course I want her,” she insists, and you can see her bob swaying along with her head as she jerks it around in your mind's eye. (You love her dearly.) “It’s just… not a great time for Maki and I.”

Maki and I seems to be her favorite thing to say nowadays— you don’t think you’ve seen one without the other in some months. “That’s fine, but me and Yuuji can’t foster her forever, you know,” At the sound of his name, Yuuji whips his head around to see what you’re doing. Once he clocks who you're talking to, he mouths to you to tell Nobara he says hi. “Yuuji says hi, by the way.”

“Yeah, tell him I say hi too,” Nobara sighs. “We’re moving into Maki’s folks’ place, and I don’t know how they feel about cats and stuff.”

“Maki’s folks’ place is so big I doubt they’ll ever even see her.”

"I'm sorry, but can you just keep her until we're settled in?" Nobara asks with a politeness that's very out of character for her. Then again, if you had to live within a mile of the Zen'in compound, you'd be worn out, too.

It must be a sign from God, from Buddha, from the universe, or maybe just fate that before you have the opportunity to mumble out an uncertain I don't know to Nobara, Kitty wraps herself around your calf. She's gotten so big, you think to yourself— it feels like just yesterday she was small enough to fit in your shoe, but over the month you've fed her and scooped her shit, she's become big enough to play with your shoes.

"Yeah, of course," you splutter out. You press your phone against your shoulder and lean down to pick Kitty up while Nobara chatters away in your ear about gratitude and just hum when she asks you this or that. For a moment, just a moment, you wonder if you should be selfish and keep Kitty for yourself. Then you reprimand yourself, because she's still, for all intents and purposes, Maki and Nobara's cat.

Still, as you come to terms with the fact that Kitty's stay in your apartment will certainly be longer than you originally planned, it seems Kitty comes to the same realization— you and Yuuji discover that she's pointedly decided to make herself entirely at home. She was never well behaved, not really, what with the way she'd pounce on Yuuji whenever he fell asleep on the couch, or the way she'd dig her nails into your thighs whenever your petting skills failed to meet her standards, but it seemed that you, at the very least, had an understanding when it came to respecting the space you're all sharing— your apartment. She didn't scratch your couch, didn't spray litter all over your bathroom, and seemed to ignore fish in his entirety.

Now, though, she's picked up possibly the worst hobby of all— knocking shit off of other shit. Pens off of your desk, detergent off of your washing machine, cups off of your fucking kitchen counter. Yuuji, guilty for anything and everything he is physically capable of being guilty for, has cleaned up after her with a vigilance that you feel genuinely bad about. Unfortunately, he doesn't do it as carefully as you wish, which is why you're picking glass out of his hand with a tweezer at one in the morning after he stumbled out of your room to find what you and him had neglected to put away (what Kitty had managed to knock off of a counter) this time and found out the hard way. By tripping on the culprit in the darkness and falling hands-first onto the scene of the crime.

"Are you sure you can go to work tomorrow?" You ask, voice soft, and Yuuji, who has been smiling since he woke you up with a yelp, finally falters.

"I think I'll be alright," he murmurs back. "Nanami won't be happy, but..."

"When is he ever?" You snort.

"He likes Kitty, too."

"You've shown him pictures of her?"

"Of course! I've shown pictures of her to everyone in the department," he grins, and you can picture him, heavy in his uniform, lifting his phone up to his stoic boss' face with a picture of Kitty, asking Isn't she cute? Then him adjusting his glasses before nodding, Yes, Itadori, she's very cute.

You suppose that's the effect Kitty has on people. Yuuji, too.

He's sitting on the edge of the tub, you're sitting on the toilet seat, paper plate balanced on the sink beside you to drop the fragments of glass onto, Kitty passing and curling around your and Yuuji's feet. It feels odd to say it, but he got off lucky in this situation— only a few pieces of glass burrowed themselves deep enough into his skin to bleed, and the rest are just stuck on the surface. Still, you're pretty confident Yuuji's in a lot more pain than he's letting on.

"Really, Yuuji," you huff, "I think you should stay home tomorrow. Just so the swelling goes down and it'll be less painful the day after."

"It doesn't hurt," he starts speaking with his whole chest, but once he clocks the look you're giving him of complete and utter disbelief, his confidence wanes. "... that much."

"I know you're worried about money, but I'm worried about you," you start, and try not to wince with him after pulling out a particularly deep shard of glass. "And besides, if this gets worse because you went back to work too early, we'll have to pay for that, too."

He hums. "I guess so."

You wrap his hand up diligently, pepper his face with kisses, and shoo him away to your bedroom so you can pick up all the glass on the floor that didn't end up on that paper plate. He calls in sick.

You get through your classes like a zombie being pulled along campus by a leash. As it turns out, staying up until the early morning making absolutely sure that there wasn't any glass left on your floor did not prepare you for success when it was time to leave. Still, Yuuji solemnly swore to spend his day focused entirely on healing, so you achieved one little victory, if nothing else.

When you get home, before you can even grasp the doorknob, you hear Kitty yapping away, Yuuji sniffling, and something being shuffled around your living room. You don't know quite what you're afraid of— an intruder, Kitty growing to the size of King Kong, or Yuuji having shrunk of Kitty's height, but after peeking your head into the door, you can confidently say that it is none of the above. You do, however, see the assortment of Kitty's things gathered right by the door.

You step into your apartment, kick your shoes off, and greet Kitty as she practically jumps into your arms.

"Yuuji?" You call out to him, and realize he's in the bathroom, probably figuring out what the best way to remove Kitty's litter box would be. "What're you doing?"

He walks out of the bathroom, eyes red, bandage on his hand freshly, but messily changed, and his head hung low. "We have to give Kitty up," he says, and you immediately clutch her tighter in your arms.

"What're you talking about?"

He just gestures to where Fish is— rather, where fish should be. His tank isn't just empty, it's gone. You realize what happened.

"Did she eat Fish?" You ask. Your voice is calmer than you really are, but you don't want Yuuji to think you're mad at him for Kitty coincidentally killing Fish the one day he happened to stay home.

"No," he insists, and points to a red Solo cup he's placed on top of your bookshelf. "He's there. She... knocked his tank over. I saved him before he could die, but..."

You look down at Kitty, who is similarly looking up at you— it's like she knows what she did, like she knows exactly what your one condition to let her stay is, like she's pushing the rules just to see what you'll let her get away with before kicking her out. But Fish is not dead, albeit traumatized and certainly not thriving in his temporary home. You realize that you think you'd forgive Kitty if she clawed your eye out. You've been denying your truth— denying that you love Kitty like she's yours, because she is— for far too long.

"I-I remember what you said about only fostering her if she doesn't mess with Fish, and I agreed, so—"

"I don't want to get rid of her," you interrupt Yuuji, and his expression goes from distraught to severely confused.

"No," he insists. At first, you were the one who was apprehensive about keeping Kitty. Now, the roles have been reversed. "She messed with Fish. I get it."

"Yuuji," you say, softer, and walk towards him. You look at his hand and realize he must've worked so hard on his day off, to clean up the glass of Fish's tank, to clean up the water, the decorations, the plants, and how scared he must've been that Fish would die. How scared he must've been that you'd be mad at him. You love him too much for that. "We're not getting rid of Kitty."

"We're not?"

"Of course not. Do you want to?"

"Of course not!" He huffs, and makes a face at Kitty that she must not like, because she takes a swipe at him from all the way in the crook of your elbow.

"So... do you want to tell Nobara?"

"Hard pass."

[heykoonsy]

Word Count: 7k +

Pairing: Danny x Female Reader

Summary: After a rough breakup lands you alone at the bar, you go home with some rando that's far too eager to cure what ails you.

Content Warnings: 18+, contains oral–female and male receiving, unprotected sex, face-sitting, praise, spanking and mild choking.

HEARTBREAK HEALER

You watched as the bartender poured your next shot. She seemed a little concerned, clearly becoming unsettled with how much tequila you were putting away. You'd been swallowing your feelings here for the last hour, keeping to yourself as patrons came and went. Still, she pushed the glass across the bar and showed you a tight smile. 

You nodded a quick thank you and took the shot. It burned, but it still didn't satiate the hatred that had been festering in your chest.

Fuck. Him.

Your eyes stung with bitter tears as the thoughts you had been pushing from your head all night came rushing forward. You played the fight over and over again in your mind despite the futility. Racking your brain over what you said and what he said wasn't going to fix anything.

You waved the bartender over for another shot. You'd drink until you couldn't remember his stupid face, or the way he looked at you like you were out of line for being angry. 

"It was just a few messages," he said, prying his phone from your hands.

"Messages about you fucking," you added angrily.

"So what? You haven't exactly been such a joy to be around these days," he scoffed. 

"What is that supposed to mean?" You asked, knowing what he's referring to, but challenging him to say it.

He stayed quiet for a minute. "Ever since I told you about the party you've been a real cunt."

Game. On.

"Miguel found you in the bathroom with your hand up a girl's skirt. I don't get to be pissed?"

"Yeah, you get to be pissed, but it's been months. We were both drunk!"

"You cut Miguel off so he couldn't tell me! I had to find out from her."

"This again!? We just keep having the same fight!"

"Get out of my fucking apartment!"

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Fucking prick.

Your lamenting was cut short by the bartender bringing you another shot and a small platter. "Here, these are for you."

You looked at the plate of mozzarella sticks in front of you, your stomach growling immediately from the inviting smell. You looked over where the bartender was gesturing towards. 

You pressed your lips into your best fake smile as you swept your eyes over him. He was tall, but trying to hide it by slouching on the stool. He was wearing a thick brown coat and a flannel underneath. The bulk of his curly hair fell along his back, but a few stray strands gathered along his neck. He gave a small smile and a wave. 

You turned to the mozza sticks, your stomach urging you to take a bite. You hadn't eaten since your coworker offered you that protein bar this morning. You knew you were hungry…but…

"Not a fan?" He asked, pointing towards the food.

"No, I love them, but…" you trailed off.

He made a face like he couldn't hear, so he grabbed his beer and made his way over to you.

If you were being honest, you were not ready to entertain a conversation right now. All you wanted was to drink yourself stupid and walk home, not talk with some rando over some mozzarella sticks. But, you still did what you could to seem polite. 

He settled onto the stool next to you. The first thing you noticed was the smell of his cologne as he got comfortable. It was citrusy–with a hint of spice, and it was a stark departure to the Old Spice your boyfriend sported. Here was a man who took pride in his scent.

"Sorry, music was crazy loud over there."

"I love mozza sticks, but I'm feeling a bit sick to my stomach right now."

"It's probably all the tequila," he chuckled. "You trying to meet God?"

You smiled, the comment catching you off guard. "Nah, just having a rough night."

He nodded and sipped his beer. "I hear that."

"Here, I tend to throw up when I'm…upset," you slid the plate over to him.

"That rough, huh?"

You threw back the shot and put the glass at the edge of the bar. "I think I broke up with my boyfriend."

"You think?"

"Well, it's been over for a while, but I just found out tonight."

"He sounds like a prick," he said. 

"You'd be correct," you said. "I'm y/n, by the way."

"Danny," he tipped his beer to you. "So what did he do?"

"Are you gonna judge me?"

"Maybe," he said, pulling a mozza stick off the plate between the two of you.

You chuckled, "Well, about a month ago he went to a party with some friends. One of those friends, Miguel, found him in the bathroom fooling around with some girl."

"Oof," Danny cringed. "And he just told you tonight?"

You stayed quiet. 

"Y/n, no."

"I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Besides, the girl told me–Melissa–she said that they were both trashed and she came onto him."

"So you believed him," he said. "And stayed."

You nodded.

"I get it. Who wants to believe their partner is a scumbag?"

"Well, he actually is a scumbag. Tonight he said I've been a real cunt ever since I found out about it."

"He actually said that? Like, to your face!?" He whispered harshly.

You nodded. It felt nice that someone was on your side. Your mother said forgiving him was going to be the biggest mistake you ever made–and your friends outright laughed at you for staying with him. Instead of giving you any helpful advice, they chose to belittle what you thought was your best quality: your forgiving nature. All you could hear were their I told you so's. So you didn't call them–instead you made your way to Kenzie's. It was funny. You'd known your mother your whole life–and some of your friends just about as long. But Danny, who you'd known for barely ten minutes, was showing you more respect than any of them. 

It was fucked up, but there really wasn't anything you could do about that tonight. 

"I've been thinking about it, and he's right about one thing. I wanted to forgive him but all I've been doing is punishing him."

"Punishing him?"

"Not talking, avoiding him, blowing up over small stuff. I mean, I'm trying. But he literally cut off Miguel so that I wouldn't find out his secret."

Danny nodded along like he understood, which, even if he didn't, was all you really needed. A judgment-free listener. He pushed the plate back to you. You looked at him, finding his honey-brown eyes for the first time. They narrowed as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. 

You grabbed one off the plate and waved it at him. "Okay, but you have to hold back my hair if I puke."

He grabbed one too, "Will do."

The two of you talked for a while longer. Instead of worrying about your imploding personal life, you gravitated towards topics like work, the latest TV shows and how you both were still grieving Vine. 

He was easy to talk to–you realized as you sipped the vodka cranberry he convinced you to order. He said something about being squeamish, so he probably wouldn't be able to hold up his end of the deal if you had gone full exorcist. The shots had already done their job anyway–they significantly dulled the pain and quieted your anger. But that wasn't all they did. Strangely, you felt like yourself again. Not jealous or spiteful…or a cunt. You were y/n again. 

You watched as Danny raved on about his best friend Sam. Apparently the two of them were supposed to hang out tonight but his girlie needed some attention. Oh well, he figured. Might as well salvage what he could of the night. 

"Aw, you got stood up and I got cheated on," you laughed. "Match made in heaven."

Danny snorted. "Yeah, I guess so."

You finished your drink and looked at your phone. No texts. Not even a notification from Candy Crush. You exhaled through your nose. It was time to go home, you thought as you put your phone into your purse. 

"Well Danny, it might be time for me to head home."

"You have far to go?" 

You shook your head. "I live in the area."

He gave you a half-smile, "That's good."

You slid off the stool and went up to the bartender to pay your tab. When you walked past Danny he was chugging his beer. Once he noticed you looking at him, he looked like he wanted to speak with you. You waited patiently, adjusting your purse under your arm. 

"Look, y/n, I don't usually do this," he said standing up. He rubbed the side of his neck with his hand. "But I liked getting to know you, tonight. And I want to continue."

"Pay your tab," you said plainly.

Danny looked at you quizzically, his eyes moving to each of yours. "Do you want this?"

You considered the question for a moment. You had two options here. You could go home to your empty apartment plastered with happy pictures you didn't recognize yourself in. Drunk call your mom and cry. Fall into bed with the TV on. Or you could take Danny home tonight. Let him show you what else you'd been missing out on. Rebound your way past this broken heart.

You chose the latter. "Take me home," you looked up at him through your eyelashes. 

Danny nodded at you and went to pay his tab.

It was a short walk to your apartment, only about ten minutes–and you both took your time. You told him that you'd initially moved here to be closer to your job and stayed because you fell in love with the locals. Like the owner of Kenzie's who let local bands play on Friday's and hosted Bingo for the Veterans fundraiser every second Tuesday. Or the owner of Caldwell Diner who always put whipped cream on her cappuccino. Or the mayor who bought everyone a shot if he’d won some money gambling on the game. 

Danny laughed along, saying that his town wasn't nearly as cool. The only cool thing they had was a drive-in–a dying breed. You smiled and said you hadn't been to one in years, and he playfully invited you out. Contingent on whether or not you liked what he had to offer when you got home.

"This is me," you said. You stepped up to your apartment, keys already in hand. You twisted your wrist and pushed the door open. You walked in first, turning on the light in the living room.

Danny looked around, eyes tracing everything from your furniture to your smallest of decorations. Hopefully he wouldn't notice all of the photos of you and your boyfriend…ex boyfriend. 

"So clean," he said, smiling. 

"Yeah, I haven't been home much. Work."

You dropped your purse on the couch and began to take off your coat. You reached out your hand to take Danny's. Once he got the picture, he shimmied it off his shoulders and handed it over. Once you hung them both on the coat rack, you turned to him. He was standing across from you, picking at his cheek nervously .

"I'm gonna do this now," Danny said as he leaned forward and captured your lips. 

You accepted the kiss happily and took Danny's face in your hands. You felt his hands grab your hips, his fingers looping through your belt loops so he could pull you closer. He seemed to loom over you, bending over slightly to kiss you deeper. You hummed against his lips, feeling your chest ignite with passion for the first time in a long time. 

You pulled away first, your hand finding Danny's so you could lead him to your bedroom. Taking him down the hallway in between the living room and kitchen, you opened the door of your bedroom. As soon as you closed the door, you pushed Danny towards the wall, ignoring the light switch altogether. You let your hand press into him, feeling the heat of his chest beneath your palm. You could feel the faintest thumps of his heart–a steady rhythm that was increasing. 

You looked up at him, your eyes making it very clear what you were about to do. You lifted up the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. You let it fall to your left as your eyes met Danny's. He looked at you with parted lips, begging for another kiss. You didn't falter, and gave him exactly what he wanted. You pressed your body against him, mouths meeting somewhere in the middle. You felt his hands travel up your hips and towards the small of your back. He held you close, his mouth leaving yours to leave a trail of kisses along your neck. 

You felt his soft tongue move across your skin, lapping at the sensitive flesh. You closed your eyes and let your mouth fall open as you drank in the pleasure of his touch. He moved slowly, perhaps savoring this moment.

You pressed your hands against him, bringing them up to his shoulders. You pulled him away from your neck so that you could kiss him again. Once your lips grazed each other, you began to walk him towards the bed. He halted.

"Wait," he said. 

You stopped, eyes finding his. You kicked off your shoes and undid the button of your pants, eager to have his eyes everywhere else. Your pants fell and you kicked them to the side.

He swallowed hard upon seeing you in your bra and panties. 

"What is it?" You said, looking at him through your eyelashes. 

He bit his bottom lip. "What are you into?" 

"Huh?"

"I want you to get everything you want tonight," he said. "Tell me how I can make that happen."

You sat on the bed, taking in the proposal. He watched as you swayed your knee back and forth, the outline of your pussy playing peek-a-boo through your panties.

"I've got a praise kink," you said to at least give him something to go off of.

He nodded along. It looked like he expected more.

"And I like it rough-ish," you said, feeling awkward.

This time when you looked up at him he was studying your face. But, just as quickly, he turned his attention towards undressing. He took off his shirt immediately.

"I can work with that," he said, dropping his shirt on the floor.

You watched as he took a hair tie from his wrist and tied back his hair sloppily. You watched a few loose strands fall behind him, sloping down his neck. His shoulders were thick and wide, and his arms were too. Fuck, you thought. He really was gorgeous. 

You felt a dull ache in your pussy and you shut your knees together to soothe it. 

Danny stepped out of his shoes and walked closer to you. When you moved back along the bed, he grabbed your knee and lifted it up. 

"Alright baby girl," he said, his tone soft and angelic. "I'm going to slide off your panties."

Baby girl, it sounded so sweet rolling off his tongue. You bit your lip, letting your upper row graze against the reddening flesh. Danny reached for your panties, his pinky hooking against the waistband. You leaned back and let them be slowly removed. Danny inhaled sharply at the sight of you below him. 

He fell to his knees. You looked over your thigh at him. 

"Can you open your legs for me, baby girl? I want to see that beautiful pussy."

You felt your heart skip a beat–and just as you were asked–you lifted your right leg and placed it on the other side of him. You felt embarrassed as he drank in the sight of you spread-eagle. You were tempted to shut your legs, but you were stopped when he began running his hand along your inner thigh. 

You followed his hot hand with your eyes as his fingers connected with your wet folds. 

"Oh baby girl, you are just dripping," he said, breathlessly. "Do you want me to take care of it?"

You nodded shyly. 

"Let me hear that voice, honey."

"Yes, please," you said, feeling so vulnerable. 

Danny used his thumb to stroke your folds, acquainting himself with all of your most precious parts. Almost absentmindedly, he dragged himself over your clit and you whimpered. 

"Does it feel good there, baby?" He asked.

"Yes, it feels so good."

"Do you want my mouth on you, baby girl?" He said as he leaned in, letting puffs of air graze against your skin.

"I do," you begged.

Danny pulled you closer to the end of the bed and positioned your legs so that they were over his shoulders. You fell back against the bed, embarrassed by the position. He was so close–too close–to the place only your boyfriend was allowed to fondle. But he wasn't here right now, was he?

You felt Danny's lips drag along your pussy–you felt the soft sweeping motion again and again. He was teasing you. You lifted yourself up onto your elbows just in time to catch the show. Danny dipped low, his hot mouth giving one long swipe of his tongue across your folds. 

You jolted against his touch, gasping slightly. 

"How long has it been," Danny said, moving to kiss your inner thigh, "since he held you like this?" He gestured towards you; your legs over his shoulders, your aching pussy below his chin, your breasts nearly popping out of your bra.

You hadn't thought about it. Lately you hadn't had much fun in the bedroom. Each time you undressed yourself for him it felt like just another chore–more about a release than strengthening a connection. But that wasn't his question, was it?

"A few months," you said.

"What a fucking waste," you heard him growl. 

You looked down at him, honestly curious how he could say such a thing. You weren't anything special–just some random chick he caught shooting tequila. He didn't know you, or your boyfriend. But that didn't make you any less flattered by his words–even if you didn't quite believe them. You watched as his eyes danced along your naked body before falling on yours. He made a show of lowering his head back to your pussy, maintaining eye contact as he pressed his mouth against you.

You gasped again at the heat of his mouth.

"Seeing you all laid out like this; such a good girl. It's been so long, huh?" He gently licked you again, tasting you. "I'm gonna enjoy making you squirm."

As if to punctuate his last sentence, he separated your folds and began tracing them with his tongue. You moaned, feeling the gentle tickling coax more wetness from your pussy. You could feel it begin to collect, making the air around you that much colder. You hoped he wouldn't notice, but with the position he had you in, he would. It was only a matter of time.

He dipped his tongue low, teasing the entrance to your pussy. He lapped up the moisture there.

"Is my girl that starved for attention?"

You slumped onto your back, embarrassed.

"No, no," he said, pulling your arm so that you would sit up again. "I want you to watch me."

You did as he wanted and sat up. Your eyes swept over the scene again. You watched as his tongue lapped at you, separating your folds and making you moan. Then, you felt his lips touch your clit. Your lips parted with another whimper. But this time he continued suckling gently at it with his mouth instead of stopping. You moved your hips forward, for more pressure, and he rewarded your squirms with exactly what you wanted.

"Good girl, ask for what you want," he said against your pussy. 

You moaned as he pulled your folds into his mouth, gently sucking them for a moment. You exhaled, not realizing you had been keeping your breath in. He moved one hand down from your thigh and began playing with your folds. He moved them apart, separating them to make way for his tongue to lap against your clit again. You moaned, pushing your hips up, following him as he backed up. You were awarded with another gentle lick. He pressed his nose against your clit, burying his face in your pussy as he collected all the delicious moisture you'd been producing. 

"Such a good girl," he breathed. "Fuck, he was really missing out."

He traced your folds with his index finger, circling your clit gently. Then, he slipped it downwards, moving slowly until it reached your hole. He twisted his finger around and began inserting it inside you. You squirmed at the sudden intrusion, but you were too wet for it to hurt. You gasped at the touch. Fuck, when was the last time you'd been fingered? 

"So wet, fuck," he said, more to himself than to you.

You whimpered as he inserted another finger. You felt him begin to move them slowly inside you, curling gently upwards. You widened your legs, realizing that you had begun to shut them when he was licking your clit. He smiled below you and rewarded you again. He pressed his mouth against your clit, kissing it. You jolted at the sidden stimulation. You felt your pussy clench around his fingers. A small moan fell from your lips.

"Do you want me to make you cum?" He asked, his voice gentle but heady. 

You nodded, hoping that he would do that again. 

"I want to hear you say it, baby girl."

You looked him in the eyes, lips parting. "I want you to make me cum, with your mouth…and fingers," you breathed out.

Danny didn't waste any time. He was slow at first–wiggling his fingers inside you and lapping lazily at your clit. But your orgasm was building. You could tell by the way your fingers were weaving through his hair, the way your legs cramped and your toes curled. You put your right hand down, grabbing at the sheets below you. He noticed and took your hand in his–threading your fingers together. 

He picked up the pace, moving his fingers in time with his tongue. You moaned, tightening your grip on his hand instead of his hair. You looked down at him, where his face was buried in your pussy. His head bobbed downward as he let his mouth suck gently on your clit, curling his fingers inside you.

"Danny," you moaned. "Fuck."

He hummed against your clit, sending a shiver down your spine. You tugged at his hair but released it quickly. You moved your hips forward.

"More," you pleaded. "I'm so close, Danny."

He did as he was told, pulling your clit into his mouth and applying more pressure this time as he sucked. He circled his fingers around inside of you, coaxing another moan from you. 

"God, yes, Danny, " you moaned loudly. 

How long had it been since you were this turned on? Since you moaned this loudly? Had it ever been like this with him? 

Danny brought you back from your thoughts with more tickling and teasing. Then he sucked you back into his mouth.

You gasped, feeling your orgasm encroaching. You flattened your palm against the bed, tapping your fingers in a small rhythm. Danny noticed, but didn't stop, thank God. He watched as your fingertips danced along the bed until finally…

You groaned, feeling your orgasm wash over you as Danny continued to lick your clit. You immediately fell back onto the bed, your hips bucked at the sensation, feeling your pussy clench around Danny's thick fingers. He rode out your orgasm with you, feeling every pulse of your heartbeat, every bead of sweat form, every breath you took. 

You tried to move, but you just weren’t up to the task quite yet. Danny moved your thighs off of his shoulders and got up from the floor. He stretched his legs for a moment and began taking off his shoes. He heard them clatter on the wooden floor. You watched as he began unbuttoning his pants. 

"How did it feel, baby?"

"Amazing," you breathed out.

"You ready for more?" He asked, palming his hard cock.

You nodded your head upon the mere thought of his thick cock inside you. "I'm ready," you said.

"Good girl, now raise your ass for me," he said calmly. 

You did as you were told, turning around and moving forward on the bed to make room for him. You lowered yourself to your elbows and raised your ass, your lower back arching.

You were awarded with a firm slap on your ass as Danny climbed onto your bed behind you. You felt his jeans brush your ass as he pressed himself against you. You gasped, feeling his hand cup your pussy. He began playing with your clit again and you wriggled beneath him.

"My cock is so eager for you baby," Danny said, punctuating his sentence by sliding his hard cock along your clit. 

You could feel the slickness of your folds against his warm skin. God, the sounds your pussy made when he thrust it forward again was horrifically erotic. Your pussy ached with the desire to be filled so you arched your ass higher in the air. 

"Yeah, baby? You want me to fuck you?"

"Yes," you said, voice sweet with need. "I want you to fuck me like he never did." You looked over your shoulder at Danny, who was biting his lower lip. 

Danny began to slide his cock along your folds again, giving your clit another playful caress with his head. He could tell you liked it because you gave a purr in response. 

"Condom?" He asked, voice thick with need.

"I'm on the pill," you said, moving your hips back. "And I'm kind of a cum slut?"

You heard a noise escape Danny's throat. You weren't sure what you heard. A grunt of approval? You shook it from your mind. 

Danny slapped your ass again, then palmed your cheeks, spreading them apart slightly. You felt him lineup his cock behind you, felt his thick head against yourself.

Danny slowly rocked his hips forward, sending his cock right past your entrance and into the wet walls of your pussy. You heard his breath hitch behind you.

"Fuck," you heard him say as his cock retreated.

You felt every inch of him as he sank his cock deeper inside you after his initial thrust. There was absolutely nothing on your mind besides the pure pleasure you were feeling. You moaned as his thick cock made more progress, you felt his thighs against yours. He was all the way in, you could tell because you could feel the thick base of his cock stretching you out. 

For a moment, the two of you didn't move. Danny rested his palms on your ass, digging his nails in slightly.

"Fuck, y/n, you're so tight." Danny breathed out.

You smiled below him, happily receiving the compliment. 

He dipped his head towards you, his torso warming the exposed flesh of your back. You felt his lips against the nape of your neck. "I want you playing with that clit of yours," he said softly.

You reached your hand between your legs and began circling your clit with your fingertips. You moaned into the sheets below. Danny saw you comply, so he began to rock his hips back and forth, making the mattress sway and the frame creak. 

He could feel you tense up each time you moaned, cinching around his cock like a vice. You could tell with every thrust that he was losing control. 

He smacked your ass again, making you groan with pleasure. You pushed your ass into his next thrust, earning you another swat. You chuckled, and it seemed to drive Danny crazy as he fucked you. You looked over your shoulder at him again, mouth open, gasping for air as he slammed his cock inside you faster. 

"Pull my hair," you demanded, clenching around him.

Danny removed his hand from your ass and threaded his fingers through your hair. He tightened his grip and yanked you off of your elbows. Your hands went to support you as he lifted your chest off the mattress. His pace got quicker, and the angle changed. He slammed his cock against your cervix, coaxing very deep, throaty moans from you.

You moved your hand back to your clit, playing with yourself just as he ordered you to. From where your fingers were circling your clit, you could feel him pounding your pussy with no mercy. He yanked on your hair again, coaxing another throaty moan and some spit from your mouth. You licked at it, trying to collect yourself. You gasped as another jab into your cervix forced your pussy to clench around him. 

"It's like my cock was made for your pussy," he said through gritted teeth. "I can bury every inch inside you."

You moaned again, feeling another orgasm build in the pit of your stomach. And, as if Danny could sense it, he took his cock out of you. You whimpered, your pussy feeling empty without his cock. 

Danny slid himself underneath your pussy and coaxed you to lower yourself down onto his face. You complied, desperate to feel his mouth on you again. You sat down, feeling his nose press against your clit first and foremost. Then…you felt his tongue against you. There was this immediate need you felt to start moving your hips. Danny sensed your hesitation and tapped your thigh. You lifted yourself up, hovering above him.

"Ride my face baby girl," he said, mouth covered in your wetness. 

You sat down again and did as you were told. You waited until he started moving his tongue again, dancing between your folds and your clit. You moaned, looking up at the ceiling as he stuck his stiff tongue against your clit. You rocked your hips forward, catching his tongue again. You saw stars–your clit aching from the stimulation. You moved your hips again, this time employing a slow and steady rhythm as you felt Danny's tongue suckle at any part of you he could get in his mouth.

"Fuck, Danny," you moaned, threading your fingers into his hair. 

You felt his arms drape by his sides as you continued to rock your hips back and forth more erratically. God, it all felt so delicious. You moaned as you felt Danny suck on your clit again. You stayed put, not wanting him to lose contact. He applied more pressure, sending a wave of pleasure over you. You raised your hips slightly at the overstimulation but immediately pressed back down so he could continue. You moaned when he did, your pussy aching to cum. 

"Danny," you heard yourself beg.

Danny reached for your hips and stilled you long enough for him to put his mouth around your pussy. You felt his hot tongue everywhere, but most importantly on your clit. You rocked your hips forward, looking down between your thighs to see his head eagerly bobbing against you. He hummed against your clit, sending jolts of electricity up your spine. 

"Fuck, fuck," you said, voice going higher in pitch as you felt yourself losing control of your movements. After he put his mouth around your clit a final time, sucking it in his lips–you felt yourself cumming. 

You rocked your hips wildly as Danny drank your orgasm below. You collapsed next to him, your legs going numb as he raised himself up. He looked over at you, your spent pussy wet and plump with all the attention it was receiving. 

"Good girl," he breathed, mouth glossy from your slick folds.

You rolled onto your back, your eyes hooded with lust. "Your turn," you said as you opened your legs for him.

Danny didn't waste any time. He got onto his knees again and pulled you to him with his strong arms. He dropped over you, his rough palm fondling your breast through your bra as he kissed a trail from your neck to your lips. 

He captured your lips and you were enthralled with the fact that you could still taste yourself on his tongue. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him close as you wrapped your legs around his. You could feel his jeans brush against your bare pussy. Your hands traced the curve of his spine, sliding down his ribs and towards the belt loops of his pants. You began to slide them down his thighs as you continued the kiss. 

Danny got the picture and jumped up to remove his pants quickly. As they fell to the floor, you caught a glimpse of his cock. It bobbed against his thigh, ready for some attention. And you were all too ready to give it. 

You crawled to the edge of the bed and took it in your hand, kissing the head of it gently. It sprang up in your hand and Danny moaned. You took the head of his cock into your mouth, tasting your pussy once again. You moved your mouth down all the way to the base, not struggling as much since he wasn't as hard as before. Just as you anticipated, you tasted your pussy all the way to the base of his cock. It turned you on to know that he was buried to the hilt in you–and you enjoyed every second. 

Once he was hard, you gave him a look before you settled onto your back again. Danny followed you, his hands going to your inner thighs as you opened them for him. He ran his hands up your stomach and to your bra. He played with the clasp in the front, and, after unclasping it, freed the creamy swells of your breasts. You sat up for a moment, taking it off after all this time. 

"You're so fucking beautiful," Danny said, his rough hand dragging against your nipple. 

He dipped low again, capturing the rosy nub in his mouth. You gasped, feeling another wave of pleasure crash over you. You felt his cock fall against your thigh, rearing its head against the folds of your pussy. You adjusted your hips, attempting to get the angle right so he could slip into you once more. 

Danny noticed this and pulled his cock back. "Eager for my cock, baby girl?"

"Fuck me until you cum," you said, your voice dripping with lust.

Danny adjusted his cock, slipping it back into you with some resistance.

"How did you get even tighter?" He asked more to himself than to you.

You raised your legs, wrapping them around his waist. He looked down at you, your eyes meeting his quickly. He lowered himself down, beginning to rock his hips. You moaned at the friction, your pussy enveloping each inch of him as he filled you up. 

Danny kissed you, deep and long as he fucked you. He moved his lips to the side, moaning in your ear. 

"Fuck y/n, you feel amazing." 

"Your cock feels great, too," you said. "My pussy missed you so much."

You felt him thrust deeper inside you, forcing a moan from your lips. 

"Yeah, I bet it did." He said between thrusts. "It doesn't want to let me go."

You let your legs release and you hooked your hands from behind your knees. You raise your legs again, changing the angle for Danny. He wasted no time adjusting to the new position, slamming his cock into your cervix again. He groaned as you tightened up on him again. 

"You're not playing fair," he said through gritted teeth. 

"Fuck me until you cum," you repeated. "I want it."

He did as he was told, picking up the pace of his thrusts while you hung onto him for dear life. He moaned in your ear and you did the same, yelling out his name and more foul language. 

You weren't expecting to cum again, but as he continued slamming against your pussy–his abdomen applying pressure to your clit–you honestly thought it might happen. You dropped your legs so that you could grab his face in your hands. You kissed him deeply, and he rolled his hips in return. You parted ways with his lips so you could moan, and he did the same. He pressed his forehead against yours breathing in your scent. 

"I'm close, baby girl," he said between breaths.

You tightened your pussy around him, "Good," you giggled, smiling at the thought of him spraying his cum inside you. "Cum for me."

Danny's breath hitched in his throat and he grabbed your neck with his hand. He squeezed the sides of your throat, your mind quickly going blank. He moaned in your ear a few times before you felt the head of his cock swell inside you. 

Fuck, this was it.

Danny released you and pulled out. You watched as his hand blurred around his cock. Then, hot jets of cum shot all over your pussy folds. He got closer, making sure not a drop was wasted. He looked up at you, sliding his cock all over your cum slick clit. You raised yourself off the bed, looking at the white splatters as they completely covered your pussy. Your lips parted at the sight before you. 

He parted your pussy lips, forcing his cock inside you once more. For some reason, you were absolutely mesmerized by his actions. There was something about being covered in his cum and still being fucked by him that reactivated your lust. 

He pulled his cock out of you, smiling widely as he looked down at you.

"You look good covered in my cum," he said with nearly as much need as you. 

"Danny," you said breathlessly.

"Has my baby not had enough?"

You nodded, "I need you," you said.

Danny sat back, eyes scanning your drenched pussy below. He swept a hand over you, his fingertips collecting the now cooling jets of cum he sprayed all over you. You felt him move the cum all along your folds, caressing your pussy as he teased you. You could hear such intoxicating sounds coming from below as he traced you. Finally, he settled on your clit, feeling you quiver beneath him. 

"Do you like this?" Danny asked, lying next to you now. "Your pussy is all wet with my cum."

"I love it," you breathed.

"Yeah? Does the thought of my cum all over your clit drive you crazy?" He circled his fingertips over your clit to drive the point home. 

You moaned deeply, rotating your hips against his hand.

He went lower, towards your entrance. "Would you like it if I fingered you with my cum all over my fingers?" 

You knew he was just trying to rile you up–and it was working. You widened your legs to compensate for his hand slipping lower between your thighs. 

"Please, Danny, I want to cum again," you pleaded.

Danny coated his fingers in cum and then plunged them inside you. He didn't waste any time working his fingers against your walls, coaxing the filthiest of moans from you. 

"Such a good girl," he said. "So polite."

You felt your orgasm building right where you left off, when he was thrusting into you like a mad man. This time however, Danny was meticulous about what he was doing, how much pressure he applied, how fast his fingers moved. You loved every second–feeling your pussy clench happily around his fingers. 

Danny slid himself upwards so that he could kiss you. Once he had your lips, he swiped his thumb over your cum slick clit. You moaned against his lips, pressing your hips forward for more. And he gave your clit more attention as a reward. You pulled away, eyes looking down your torso at where his fingers disappeared inside you.

You felt a pit in your stomach–felt your clit burn with overstimulation, but you didn't stop Danny as he fondled you. You dragged his face to your mouth and kissed him deeply as Danny made you cum again. You moaned loudly into his mouth, gasping for air for full minutes afterwards. 

He pulled his fingers away from you. A gentle nudge at your clit had your body spasming again. He looked at you, drenched in sweat, body heavy from cumming. After drinking in the sight of you, he smiled. 

"You want me to get you some water?"

You rolled over to face him. "Mmm, in a minute, I just want to lay here."

He pulled you closer to his chest, that citrusy smell wafting up to your nose. You breathed deeply–the smell instantly calming you. 

Then, Danny's attention was turned elsewhere. You watched as he trained his ears on a strange noise. You heard it too. You rose from bed quickly, wondering what time it was. Danny put his shirt in your hand and you rushed to put it on. He pulled on his boxers and followed you. 

You walked down the hallway to the couch, where your phone was blaring your ringtone. 

You sighed. 

Three missed calls from you-know-who. 

"We're good, just my boyfriend."

Danny leaned against the hallway wall, his hand going back to the base of his head, hunting for the hair tie lost in his mound of curls. 

You noticed that he didn't leave any messages. So this could either be him apologizing or it could be about him dumping you. You sighed, wondering if you should even call him back tonight. You looked over at Danny, who was still trying to untie his hair. 

You dropped your phone in your purse and walked over to him. 

"Let me help," you said, raising your arms so that you could search for him.

"Did he give you a lame text apology?"

You shook your head, finding the hair tie immediately. You presented it to him and he slid it on his wrist. 

"Well, that's good. You deserve better than something his friend typed up for him."

You laughed genuinely. "That was usually Miguel's job."

He laughed, too. 

The silence that fell between you was comfortable–and you'd felt lulls like this a lot–and they were anything but comfortable. But with Danny, it was different. He smiled at you, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 

"It's getting late," you said.

Danny nodded. He took a step back, towards your bedroom. "I'll get going then, so you can sleep."

"I was actually thinking you could spend the night."

He stopped dead in his tracks, looking over at you. "Are you sure?"

You nodded. "We can get coffee tomorrow. If you're game."

He smiled. "I'm game."

THE END

@gretavanfran

[fyodior]

I DAMN SURE NEVER WOULD'VE DANCED WITH THE DEVIL

PAIRING ↬ fyodor x afab reader

NOTES ↬ yes this is a fic based on a taylor swift song. i had to ok i just had to dfjkdafkfdk. this is a bonus kinktober i promise i will get the last 2 kinktober fics out!!!

CW ↬ light bondage, kind of dubcon, pet names, kind of dacryphilia, fyodor is just manipulative as hell

WC ↬ 1k

SONG ↬ would've, could've, should've by taylor swift

It hurt, god it hurt, but you kept coming back for more. And more, and more, and more. You couldn’t help it. You wished with everything in you that you hadn’t taken the bait that first time, that you had resisted the charm. You said you’d do it once, just to try it. But once was enough to get addicted. Addicted to him.

His lips, his body, his words. His ability to make you feel like the most important person in the world, in his world, though that never lasted. You wanted it to be true so badly, needed it to be true, and the delusion consumed you. It tore you apart, in ways you didn’t feel like you could ever recover from. He took your ability to trust, to love, to be loved, and smashed it all into pieces with a grin on his face. It hurt. But the God’s honest truth? The pain was heaven.

All of this ran through your mind, clouding your vision as his lips trailed down your body with ease and grace. Like he knew every part of you, and he did. He knew exactly how to make you fall apart in his hands with the slightest of touches, and he used that knowledge with nothing less than unholy intentions. But in that unholiness is where you found that heaven.

“Are you ready, my love?” It wasn’t a question.

You groaned a yes anyway, as much as you could from where your face was currently buried in the dense, white pillow on Fyodor’s bed. You were currently ass up, hands tied behind your back with rope that dug deep into your skin as Fyodor loomed behind you. His nearly silent chuckle somehow filled the dark room, and you could just hear the wicked smirk that he wore.

Fyodor fell lower onto his knees to sit face to face with your slick pussy as he stared in awe. As much as you didn’t want to be, you were turned on and painfully in need of him. His cold hands came to rest on your ass, harshly spreading it apart to grant himself better access. He leaned in slow and with intention before shoving his tongue inside your hole. You yelped at the sudden entrance and clenched around his tongue. This reaction didn’t deter him, only encouraged him to lick deep inside you as breathy moans tumbled from your lips.

You couldn’t help but salivate at the filthy wet sounds that arose from him drinking up every last drop of slick you had to offer.

“You taste so fucking good, darling,” he groaned, fingers digging into your ass as he spread you apart even wider. “Dripping wet, just for me.”

This is when the gears would start shifting. When the narrative switched from dread and guilt to one of desperation and indulgence.

“Just for you, Fedya,” you found yourself whining in response.

Fyodor wasn’t stupid. He knew the inner turmoil you faced in his presence, and he knew just how to manipulate it. To stoke the fire, let the regret rage inside you, then stomp out the pathetic flames as he played your body like the goddamn cello.

He smirked to himself as his tongue swirled languidly around your clit as he shoved three fingers into your pussy at once, and prided himself on the pitiful cries you let out. Pleasuring you wasn’t about pleasuring you. It was about using your body against you so you would stay against him. How would you keep coming back if it never felt good?

He found himself successful as you unconsciously fucked down onto his fingers and tongue and lapped up the juices that flowed out of you with joy.

And then came the moment you both waited for, but for different reasons. To Fyodor, it was about fucking your tight little pussy and ruining you with one thrust at a time while keeping you dependent on him. To you, it was about finding that rare unity you experienced in your relationship, or at least pretending to. And fuck it felt good.

You stayed in your own separate worlds, though you pretended to be as one as he buried himself deep inside you, his large cock forcibly stretching open your weeping pussy. The way you screamed his name as the searing pain overtook your bottom half went straight to his cock, pulsating inside you.

“F- Fe- Fedya, please-“

“Please, what?”

“Please don’t stop.” Your blindfold was soaked with tears and the pillow you laid on was soaked with drool.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, darling.”

He fucked into you without reservation, shaking the creaky bedframe to the point where you worried for its structural integrity. Your body convulsed at the stimulation and your wrists struggled against the rope, even as the coarse material dug into your skin. Fyodor knew how to thrust into you with just the right force, just the right angle to have you falling apart underneath him, and he wasted no time getting there.

He leaned forward to drape his slim body over yours, wrapping one arm under your torso to hold close to him, though you had nowhere to go anyway. He used his free hand to jerk your neck to face him before pulling you into a messy, backwards kiss. It was all teeth and tongue as your shaking bodies and blocked vision worked against you.

“Can’t wait to come inside you, see you so full of me you can’t even hold all of it.” His deep, gravelly voice echoed in your ears.

“P-Please.”

His thrusts increased as he chased his high, fucking so hard and deep he brushed your tender cervix. You knew your ass would be covered in bruises, too.

All movement stopped as he groaned, spilling hot seed inside you as he held you even closer to his chest. The way your bound wrists held your arms in a painful position between your two bodies was almost poetic in a way, that a moment like this could ever be pain free. And as he slowly pulled out and you felt come dripping down your thighs while tears threatened to spill, he leaned in close to whisper something in your ear.

“Dance with me, darling.”

[cyrusthedragon]

I'm so in love with the idea of thunder god tribe being like lil triplets for Laxus, and Laxus is like "no I can't do reckless shit no more, I have my kids to worry about", people are like "you have kids???", Laxus: "yeah", and kids are just three grown-ups looking at Laxus with heart-shaped eyes, and then he's like "okay, I need to go take care of them"

Freed is the oldest one, repeating after him, following his steps, learning and growing, best student, his pride.

Bickslow is next, lil dumb (no, he's actually a secret genius), lil crazy, lil reckless, in short - middle child, circus on feet, but he's Laxus' joy.

And Evergreen as youngest one, pretty and pretty independent, fairy with attitude, she may seem giddy, but she's very smart and cunning; they say if you look at Evergreen for a long time, you can see Laxus.

And it's so-so cute, cuz this kittens are his family, part of his life, and I love it so much, cuz let's be honest with eachother, Laxus is a big softie, and he really need someone to protect, so even if he knows for sure that Freed, Ever and Bickslow are more than capable to protect themselves, that doesn't mean he's not worrying about them. He does. Sometimes a lot. 'They don't need someone to protect them, they're strong,' he says, and then Mirajane cas clearly see that he just can't sit on that chair calmly. She wants to say how cute he is like that, but she bites her inner cheek instead, to not to scare that...openness he's showing her. And it's absolutely obvious that he's showing it, on purpose, he allows himself to be like this, because Mira knows - Laxus can hide really well when he wants to. So she's just glad he trusts her enough to show his true feelings for the raijinshuu.

He'd be a good father, she thinks suddenly, and then blush appears on her face and she hurries to hide it, going to the basement for *choose the reason* while Laxus stares after her with an questioningly raised eyebrow, until his own blush shows on his cheeks. He probably looked stupid...

Even though Laxus doesn't usually care what other people think of him personally, for some reason he doesn't want to look stupid in front of her.

Sheesh.

P.s. inspired by this, look at them. Look at them. He lllooovvvvessssss herrrr (I'm not talking about romantic love here), HE LOVES HER, THAT'S WHY HE CAN BE LIKE THAT WITH HER, AND EVER KNOWS HIM WELL ENOUGH, LOOK. COME THE FUCK ON. THEY'RE FAMILY. I'M DEAD.

Ever but like that 'annoying' lil 'girly girl' sis who can poke you just because she can, and I think if she really was his lil sis, she would simply come up to him, coquettishly extend her hand, and he'd give her money without questions (but with a heavy sigh). And Bickslow'd be like 'wow, can I have some too???', and Laxus to him with straight face, blinking: 'No.' Freed, trying his luck, quietly: "...can I?". Laxus would asked how much and would give him the requested amount, and Bickslow would explode at how terribly unfair this is!!! And Laxus'd give him an hour and a half lecture about how Freed spends money on books and stuff for self development, and Bickslow, on the contrary, always buys all sorts of crap.

"Why then are you giving money to Ever, huh?!" He rightly grumbles, frowning comically, almost stomping his foot. "She buys all sorts of crap too!"

Laxus looks him straight in the eyes. Blinks twice. And, raising his mug of beer, explains:

"I just like her more than you."

Bickslow eventually explodes, making angry noises, and Mirajane, nearby watching this scene, cannot help but giggle at how Laxus skillfully hides his grin behind his mug.

Btw follow me for more Raijinshuu and Miraxus stuff, I just wanna talk about them, seriously:'))