#tell us in the tags exactly where 'blog' stopped sounding like a word

[prokopetz]

Sideblog: A blog used to post content which doesn’t fit the theme of one’s main blog.

Subblog: A blog used to organise content because things have reached the point where tags are not sufficient.

Interblog: A blog used to coordinate activity between blogs.

Parablog: A blog which exists to explain the content of another blog.

Quasiblog: A blog platform used for non-blogging purposes.

Pseudoblog: A non-blogging platform made to serve as a blog.

Infrablog: A sideblog which presents itself as an unaffiliated main blog for plausible deniability reasons.

Unblog: A blog used to not post things.

Blogblog: A blog used to blog about blogging.

Superblog: But they were all of them deceived, for another blog was made.

[toji-girl]

house of mirrors | e. yeager

original request: eren fucking u in a house of mirrors…👁👁

tags: 18+ content only - mdni + fem reader + porn with no plot + mirror sex + public sex + cream pie + unprotected sex + dirty talking + finger sucking + fingering + pet names + praising + repost from my old blog + not beta read + reblogs and comments are v appreciated and spur me to create more content

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Eren asked wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you away from your group of friends and in the maze of mirrors.

“We could get caught, and you aren’t exactly quiet.” You laughed looking at the reflections of you two, he smirked leaning in to kiss the side of your neck.

“That’s more fun isn’t it? And you aren’t so quiet either sweetheart, ‘Harder Eren! Oh-” you slapped your hand over his mouth shushing him as you turned around to face him.

He chuckled and pulled you further in the maze away from any prying eyes that could possibly see, the deeper you both went the air grew warmer and heavy with tension, all day he’s been nothing but a tease with his public display of affection.

Eren has a problem with keeping his hands off you stopping when you asked or if he knew it wasn’t the right time, “I don’t sound like that.” You pouted playfully twirling a strand of chocolate hair around your finger watching his emerald eyes darken.

“Mhm, okay. But don’t you want to see how good I fuck you?” He asked turning you around to face the many images of him ghosting his hands down your shoulders before trailing the tips of his fingers up under your chin lifting your head up.

His voice was raspy in your ear again, “Look at how beautiful you are,” he said running them down between the valley of your breasts until they reached the band of your skirt where he slid his hand in your panties rubbing your clit.

“So jumpy and very wet for me, don’t tell me you got all excited because of earlier you naughty little thing.”

You couldn’t help but hold his arms as he pulled you flush against him grinding his erection in your back side, “I only get that way for you.”

Eren smiled as he went further kicking your ankles apart making it easier for him to shallowly thrust two fingers inside you, in and out you watch his hand move while staring back at you refusing to lose eye contact.

This was his best idea yet when he saw the sign for the attraction, the thought popped instantly in his mind dragging you away from everyone knowing you’d both end up leaving with rumpled clothes and a blissed-out look clouding your faces.

You kept your lips tightly pressed together in fear of someone hearing you while he kept his ministrations up watching you desperately cling to him trying not to make a sound letting you sag against him, “Don’t worry baby, I got you. I always do.” He murmured using his free hand to tug your skirt and panties down to your knees.

“Ah, much better. Lucky me that I get you all to myself, you’re such a good girl for me.”

Those two little words unraveled the ball of pleasure pushing you into an orgasm, whimpering softly you squeezed your eyes shut when he pulled his fingers out bringing them to your mouth, “Want to taste how fucking delicious you are?”

Opening your eyes you nodded grasping his wrist to part your lips taking in his fingers sucking and swirling around them, “Nothing tastes better than you Ren, please fuck me?” You begged wanting what he’s been craving the last two hours of this trip.

In a haste you were bent over with your hands flat on the mirror with Eren behind you pulling his shorts and boxers to his knees letting his cock spring free, wrapping his fingers around himself he stroked up and down a few times before running the pre-cum slicked up head smearing it between your lips.

“Like being fucked in public, don’t you? Maybe instead of being a good girl, you’re actually very bad.” He teased feeling you push back into him until only the swollen head was inside, with a rather harsh snap of his hips he bottomed out holding your waist.

All words that were swirling in your head died on your tongue as Eren found a rough and fast pace fucking you deep, “Look at how well I know you, how you respond to my touches?” As a demonstration, he ran his fingers over your back settling his hand on your nape watching you shiver and melt under his touch.

“And let’s never forget how your pussy just opens up for me and how wet and-fucking hell-warm you are.”

He was interrupted by the fluttering of your cunt while curling your toes in your shoes watching helplessly fuck you like a wild animal almost, Eren looked intense, brown eyebrows pinched in the middle and eyes half-lidded succumbing to how good you felt.

The wet sounds of him rutting against your while fingers holding you, throwing his head back you saw the column of his throat, apple adam’s apple bobbing, the sight was something to be seen.

Knowing you were in love with Eren Yeager was all-consuming lighting a deep flame in your belly and chest and you couldn’t help but fall a little bit more each time you both were like this, him as he kept his pace until finally, he came.

You could feel his body convulsing as he pressed into you harder, “I thought I forgot to tell you I also love how when I fill you up there’s a certain look in your eyes, all glassy and dazed out. I think I’ll refer you to as my favorite kind of pie.”

[toournextadventure]

everyone but her pt.11

Summary: Wednesday works up the courage to use the D word, and for the first time since coming to Nevermore, she actually comes to genuinely learn a thing or two about you. And hey, maybe she can face some of her own feelings in the process.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of past abuse

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!Reader

(Masterlist)

Tag List: @extinctspino @basichextechml @cfvgbhndun-new-blog @jinxscatbomb @awolfcsworld @n0p35 @suzhiman @gengen64 @eclipsesmoonshine14 @asters-abditory @alexkolax @thenextdawn-backup @cacciatricediartemide @cozwaenot @the-night-owl-blr @natashasapphic @parkersmyth @alilbitlesbian

A date. That was the exact word Enid had used when telling Wednesday what needed to happen next. She had made it very clear that the word “date” had to be used in the question. “No more of that “outing” nonsense,” she had said. The girl had some audacity, Wednesday would give her that.

Now the real issue rested on what exactly Wednesday was going to do for said “date.” It was a word she hated using, it held far too much weight and responsibility and expectations. She couldn’t just ask you to go for a walk because you did that anyway. No coffee because it was a constant and you had started bringing her a coffee every morning anyway. No, it had to be more than that.

Dates took too much planning.

Which was exactly why she found herself on Enid’s computer, doing her best to use it without asking for help. There had to be something in the area that you would enjoy, right? But despair settled in the back of her throat as she came to a sudden, single terrifying realisation.

She had no idea what you would enjoy doing.

All the time she had spent with you, all the outings and coffees and tutoring sessions, and she didn’t have a single clue what your interests were. You clearly knew her very well, hence the autopsy outing, but she was at a complete loss. She raked her brain for every hint, every clue, every aspect of you that she had collected to try and figure out this small mystery.

The longer she sat there, the more she realised there really hadn’t been many clues to begin with. Your room was filled with everything you could find, not following a specific theme. The things you talked about mirrored everyone else, not your own interests. When she thought about it, she realised there had only been two times she had seen you doing something for you; playing piano in the opera hall, and skipping detention for birdwatching.

Birdwatching…

Typing on the computer was more difficult than using a typewriter. It didn’t click the same way. The only benefit was being able to erase her mistakes, but it still took too much time to type in what she wanted. Then there were too many search results to dig through, why couldn’t she just use a library instead? At least it was more rewarding when she finally found what she was looking for.

Nonetheless, she stopped her internal complaining when she found something that caught her eye. A few clicks to get to where she wanted, and her eyes scanned the words on the page. It would be a long shot, but she truly felt you would enjoy it. Hopefully her gut reaction was correct.

Now all she needed to do was ask you.

—---

“We haven’t had a chance to talk since you’ve been back,” Larissa said as you plopped down in the booth opposite her, coffee spilling out over your fingers.

You looked tired. It wasn’t an unusual thing after long breaks, you despised not being at Nevermore and having easy access to Nicholas. But this was different; your shoulders drooped more and your smile wasn’t as genuine. The shake in your fingers was usual, but not the glassiness in your eyes.

“It’s been crazy,” you chuckled lightly, though even that sounded forced.

“You seem tired,” she actually vocalised, leaning slightly forward on the table to hopefully put you at ease.

“Break was tough,” you admitted almost instantly. It was quite the surprise.

“Would you like to talk about it?” She asked.

You looked down at your hands and started playing with your coffee mug. A few small blood spots were around your nails and new scrapes were healing across your knuckles. You went boxing, Larissa thought with a hushed cluck of her tongue. As much as she knew you had a reason, few things brought her greater sorrow than seeing the scrapes and bruises across such sensitive hands.

“Kristi and Marcus started calling again.”

Larissa’s sorrow turned into sudden rage. You were still focusing on your mug, but she was seeing red. How dare they try to contact you again? They made it a point to do so about every other year, but as far as she was concerned, they had given up their rights to you when they dropped you and Nicholas off at Nevermore all those years ago.

She would never be able to forget the looks on yours and Nicholas’ faces when you realised that no, they weren’t coming back for you. They weren’t coming for Parents’ Weekend, they weren’t taking you home for winter break, they weren’t picking you up for the summer. No nine year old should ever be faced with the terrifying realisation that they had been abandoned.

They only ever attempted to contact you if they needed something from you. In fact, if she remembered properly, the last time they had contacted you was after the accident. Even then it was only to see how much they needed to pay in medical bills; not once did they show any amount of concern for your wellbeing.

It was times like this when Larissa wished she was a more violent person.

“Let me know if they call you again.” You looked up from your untouched coffee. “I will take care of it.”

You gave her a small smile; a genuine one, one that she found herself craving whenever you were around. The big smiles, the toothy ones that you had when talking about something you were passionate about, those were wonderful. They didn’t quite compare to the small ones, the quiet ones, the ones that were so soft they were practically a gift whenever you gave them. Larissa loved seeing that one.

“How has the term been so far?” Larissa asked as she leaned back in the booth and took a sip of her hot chocolate.

Now she could see that toothy grin that so often meant trouble.

“Besides detention?” You asked. Cheeky.

“You rightfully deserved those,” she answered with a light chuckle.

“It’s been good,” you continued. “Wednesday finally asked me on a date.”

“Did she, now?”

Larissa would admit she was shocked at the revelation. There were plenty of nights the past term when you would come by her office and pace, complaining time after time about how frustrating Addams was. Yet when she would ask if you wanted to give up, you would give her a look of utter incredulity; of course you didn’t want to give up.

The way you talked about Miss Addams was almost laughable; the sheer admiration on your face was beyond evident. And yet you were never ashamed, you continued to embellish. Whether it was about her intellect, or her personality, or her hobbies. You would ramble until you were out of breath or Larissa reminded you how late it was.

“Saturday morning, yeah,” you said, completely unaware of Larissa’s internal thoughts. “No idea what we’re doing but, you know, it’ll be fun.”

With a small smile, your eyes slowly slid shut as you sipped your coffee. The exhaustion was still evident in everything about you, but you looked serene. Larissa was unused to you looking at peace, yet whenever Miss Addams came up, it seemed so effortless. If a girl was all it took to keep you happy, Larissa was more than content to let you live out your life as the teenager you so rarely got to be.

—---

You had not dressed appropriately for the date, and Wednesday was on the verge of giving up and heading back to Nevermore.

She had explicitly told you numerous times that you needed to wear something warm because you would be outside. It was still winter, there was a possibility of snow, and she knew you got cold quickly. Yet what were you wearing when you met up with her? A button down, jeans, boots, and the thinnest jacket Wednesday thought she had ever seen.

“You’re going to freeze,” she told you, but you just waved off her concern and started walking. Now you were visibly shaking, and she didn’t feel sorry for you.

Maybe she felt a little sorry for you.

“Where are we even going anyway?” You asked through chattering teeth after only the first 15 minutes of walking.

But Wednesday didn’t answer you, she just kept walking. It was inconsiderate, she was well aware of that, but what could she do? Everything about this trip was supposed to be a secret, a surprise. As much as she craved to tell you, she was going to keep her mouth shut. It was for your own good.

“You’re not taking me out here to kill me, are you?” You asked, this time letting out a nervous chuckle.

Once again she didn’t answer, only looking at you out of the corner of her eye. It gave her a certain sadistic satisfaction to see your face drop. You froze in place while Wednesday kept walking; at least you couldn’t see the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Are you?” You asked again, your voice further away as Wednesday kept walking. “Wednesday!”

The sound of your boots against the cold ground grew louder until you were walking beside her again. You had pulled your jacket tighter around your body and your shoulders were hunched. If your wings had been free, they would’ve wrapped around your body to encase what little warmth was left. Wednesday wished you would let them out.

A tingle radiated up her arm as your knuckles brushed lightly against her hand as you both continued walking. A small part (a very small part) in the back of her mind told her to grab your hand. To intertwine her fingers with yours and feel your thumb rubbing in that way that was so frustratingly soft and comforting. And she nearly did when your hand brushed against hers again.

Just do it, she thought when, for a third time, you graced her with the touch of your fingers on her skin. It should have been easy, you were both alone and no one would see. There was a privacy you couldn’t get at Nevermore, which was exactly what Wednesday had been planning for. But she just couldn’t get herself to reach out, to actually hold your hand.

So imagine her surprise when you did it for her. When you grabbed her hand so gently it was almost torturous. Your hand was so much bigger, practically encompassing the entirety of her hand. And the warmth, god your skin was so warm, it was no wonder you were so cold.

She hoped you couldn’t feel her racing pulse in her wrist.

“What’s that?” You asked, and Wednesday’s shoulders relaxed when she saw the building up ahead.

Though now derelict, the majority of the aviary was still standing. Vines crept up the outside walls and through the broken windows while trees towered above, burying it in shadow. The evidence of past inhabitants remained in the form of nests littering the roof and window sills.

“You are gonna kill me, you bastard,” you mumbled, but judging by the squeeze of her hand, you were joking.

Hopefully.

Now it was Wednesday’s turn to pull you along after her, keeping a tight grip on your hand. She might not be the one to make the first move, but she was certainly not going to be the first one to let go. It was easy to understand why her father was always staying in physical contact with her mother; it was grounding, comforting, and reminded her of home.

The further into the building she led you, the more little noises of amazement you let out. Once fully inside, Wednesday realised just how much of a mistake it was to bring you to an abandoned aviary. With no regard for anyone’s safety, you practically ran around, pulling Wednesday with you whether her legs could keep up or not.

If she had wanted to lead you to a specific room, that plan was gone. You were so enthralled with the building, pointing out everything you saw whether you knew what it was or not. That was most likely the nest of a pigeon, oh look that’s a bluejay feather, those birds weren’t even native to Vermont. She could imagine this was what you had been like as a child; easily excitable and full of wonder.

It was a good look on you, that smile of yours. While you often had one, this was far different. This one reached your eyes and showed off the sparkle within them. She could see the slight chip in one of your teeth and the silver band of a retainer on your bottom teeth when you were talking. How lovely, Wednesday thought, to see such imperfections.

Where did that thought come from?

“I didn’t know birds set up picnics,” you said, and Wednesday finally stopped looking at you for long enough to remember the initial point of this outi- no, it was a date.

Right. This was planned.

What did she say? Should she tell you that yes, it was a picnic, Enid had helped her plan it? No, she couldn’t say that, it would be humiliating to admit that she had no idea how to plan dates, had never even been on a date, and had to have Enid of all people help her. She had needed help, and that was so humiliating that Wednesday would rather bury herself alive.

“It looks peaceful,” you said, and once again Wednesday felt a sense of relief that you were taking all the difficult things away from her. “Come on.”

With a much more reserved smile - though no less genuine - you pulled Wednesday over to the blanket and sat the both of you down. For the first time since the walk in the woods, Wednesday let go of your hand and let you do what you apparently did best. For having no idea about the intricacies of this day, you were certainly acting as if you had planned all of it.

The way you got everything out of the basket and started setting things out, one would have assumed you did this all the time. Wednesday certainly felt like it as you laid out her favourites in front of her while yours was more on your side. And when you poured the drinks, and started getting a plate ready for Wednesday before your own, and the way you held the plate out for her to take as if you were serving her your heart on a silver platter-

-no. No, Wednesday didn’t think she liked that terrifying possibility at all. It meant you cared. It meant you were willing to give things up for her, and that was hammered into her head when she saw the still angry wound on your neck that she had caused. No, that you had let her cause. And now you were offering her the rest of you as if there would be no consequences.

Say something, her mind told her as she took the plate from you and watched as you started making your own. You weren’t as careful about how you plated your own food, more just tossing it onto the plate without a care in the world. Nothing like the structured, separated plate you had made for her.

The list. Wednesday’s eyes widened slightly as she remembered the list in her jacket pocket. While you were preoccupied with trying to decide which specific piece of cheese you wanted - even though it was the same type of cheese - she grabbed the piece of paper and laid it out beside her. Positioned just perfectly so you couldn’t see it, but she could read it easily.

“How is your family?” Wednesday asked in the most nonchalant way she could with her heart trying to thump its way up her throat.

But the way you froze with wide eyes and a cracker sticking half out of your mouth instantly made her feel like she had started with the wrong question. You chewed your food slowly, so painfully slowly and for a moment Wednesday started to consider if death would be the best solution. Certainly it would be less torturous than waiting for what you would say.

“You wanna know about my family?” You asked incredulously with a look that was far too vulnerable for Wednesday’s liking.

“Yes,” Wednesday said around the lump in her throat.

Your eyes trailed off to the side as a smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Wednesday listened as you finally started talking, telling her all about your family. You talked about your siblings, how one of them still hadn’t wolfed out yet, or how the other didn’t even enjoy blood, or how the little ones were doing in school. Onward to your abuelita, and your grandfather, and your mother. Wednesday was dizzy with your quick name changes and though she still wasn’t keeping up, she rarely got to see you so happy.

Only when you had ran out of breath did Wednesday ask you the next question, and on the day went. She learned more about you in one day than she had over the past months she had known you. You could play the banjo and fiddle as well, but your brother Nicky was the real fiddle player. That grandfather of yours had been a blacksmith, that’s where the sword you had sent her father came from. The list went on and on, and Wednesday kept a mental note to thank Enid for the questions.

Conversation died down as Wednesday ran out of questions, but it was a comfortable silence. It was nice, truly, to just sit in silence without any worries. There was no need to concern yourselves with homework, or exams, or the real world. Just to simply sit there and hear the nature surrounding you both without a care in the world.

She waited until you finished snacking before setting her own plate back in the picnic basket. You followed suit and started packing everything up without question. You missed the raised brow she sent your way, but she forgave you for the moment. Instead, she reached over and grabbed your phone that you had left on the blanket.

Thanks to Enid’s teachings, she found the app she was looking for and started searching. You finally stopped mid-cleanup as you looked at her with furrowed brows. More than once you tried to lean over to see what she was doing, but each time she would pull the phone away and hide it from your sight. Each time, you let out a huff before continuing cleaning up.

“Stand up,” Wednesday said once you were done and she had found what she was looking for.

You gave her a look filled with suspicion, but stood up anyway. She pressed “play” on your phone and set it back down on the floor, standing directly in front of you as the waltz played through the speakers. With a “deer in the headlights” look on your face, you let Wednesday position you properly.

“Do as I say.” You gulped audibly but nodded anyway. She felt your hand grip her waist ever so tightly and she pushed down the excitement at the gesture.

Waltz after waltz played as Wednesday tried oh so desperately to teach you even just the basics of dancing. She guided you slowly, correcting you when necessary and doing her best to keep her patience. It wasn’t that you weren’t trying; the look of pure concentration on your face was proof enough.

You were just so, so horrible at dancing.

“If you correct me on that one more time, I will cry,” you said as soon as Wednesday opened her mouth. She promptly closed it and let go of your hand before stepping back.

She missed the warmth your hand had left on her waist.

“You may be a lost cause,” Wednesday said.

“I know,” you threw your head back and whined. Under your clothes, Wednesday noticed the faint shift of your wings. It gave her a new idea.

“You can repay me for your hopelessness.” You looked at her and blinked once. “Show me how you fly.”

“They’re tucked away,” you said without giving it a second thought.

“Release them.”

“Release them yourself,” you shot back.

“Okay.”

She ignored the look of incredulity on your face as Wednesday stepped forward and pushed your jacket off your shoulders. Her fingers grazed your neck in the process and, for your sake, she pretended not to notice the goosebumps left in their wake. Although she certainly noticed the way you were looking at everything but her even though your hand rested naturally on her waist.

Thankfully that meant you couldn’t see the shake in her fingers as she started unbuttoning your shirt. In return, she also pretended not to notice the blush creeping up your neck as she went down your shirt button by button, her own anxiety making it a slow process. A silent sigh escaped her when she saw you were at least wearing an undershirt beneath the straps of the harness.

“I think you just wanted to take my shirt off,” you said with a strangled chuckle followed by your body tensing up underneath her fingers.

She stopped her movements and looked up at you through her eyelashes; you looked utterly mortified. Your eyes were closed and you were biting your lip so hard Wednesday almost thought she could see blood. Why did you look like that, like you were in pain? You were correct, she wanted to take your shirt off, it was the only way to reach the harness for your wings. What part of that was so painful?

You were too stuck in your own head to even look at her, so she used that time to push your shirt off your shoulders and unbuckle the harness. It fell to the ground as your wings practically sprang out, stretching out completely before tucking back around your shoulders in what Wednesday could only describe as a protective stance. A look of relief flooded over your face as your wings moved, finally free.

“Do they hurt?” Wednesday asked before she could stop her own mouth.

“They just get stiff,” you mumbled, finally looking down at her again.

With a look, Wednesday decided you looked completely different when your wings were out. Your shoulders weren’t so hunched and you stood taller. Why would you keep them put away if it was clearly uncomfortable? The furs had no choice in their transformations, but you had a choice in keeping them free or not. What could have possibly happened to convince you that they needed to stay put away?

It truly was a tragedy to see such things tucked away for no one to see. There was such power in them, yet they appeared to be so incredibly delicate. They moved as if they had a mind of their own, and maybe they did. As the feathers ruffled and they wrapped around both you and Wednesday, she determined she wanted to know everything about them.

“Wednesday,” you whispered. She looked up at you, her breath catching in her throat at how close you were.

Only when she felt your free hand cover hers did she realise she still had her hands where your harness had been buckled. If she focused, she could feel your heart racing in your chest, begging to escape. That flush on your neck had spread to your cheeks and oh, your face was terribly close. So close she could see the little scar running through the right side of your top lip.

She couldn’t bring herself to look away from your lips. Not even when she felt your hand cup her face so gently, pull her flush against you as if you thought she would break. Nor when your fingers scratched lightly against her cheek it was torture. Or when you leaned down so slowly, so close that she could feel your quick breaths on her lips. All Wednesday had to do was stand up on her toes and she could-

-*bang!*

Wednesday blinked once when your body tensed underneath her. Her feet stumbled over each other when you pulled her closer, all gentleness gone as you held her tight. Being so close, with your wings wrapped around her, she couldn’t see your face properly. All she knew was you were looking around frantically, scanning every inch of the building for the sound.

Another shot echoed in the air, and Wednesday didn’t even have time to think of what it could be before you grabbed her tight and sprang into the air. Something loud and shrill rang in her ears as she clutched your shirt in tight fists. The chilled wind rushed past her face and the ground was not beneath her feet and she couldn’t tell what was up or down and she was panicking.

The ground rushed up to meet her feet and she stumbled as soon as your arms loosened around her waist. Her vision was swimming and you were saying something but she didn’t know what, she just knew she needed a moment. Maybe a few moments. She went to step back and felt the ground fall away once again before your fingers tangled in her jacket and pulled her back into you forcefully.

“Quit moving,” you said. No, it was an order, how unusual for you. “Just give it a minute.”

But it wasn’t going away, and Wednesday was giving it all the minutes she could spare. She couldn’t tell where she was, the ground was still pitching beneath her, everything was moving, she wasn’t even sure if she was standing upright. All she knew was your hands were in her jacket and your wings were around her and she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.

“Ground yourself.” You grabbed her hands and placed them on your chest again, and though she would kill you if you brought it up, she instinctively pressed closer until she could feel your heartbeat underneath. “Focus and breathe.”

There was no way she was going to look up at you and let you see her internal discombobulation. But she gave in and did as you said, focusing on the beat of your heart underneath her fingers. The gentle comforting rhythm gave her no doubt it would easily lull someone to sleep. Against every instinct in her body, against everything her brain was screaming at her, she let her head fall forward until she could rest her head above your heart.

It sounded like home.

“You good?” You asked once Wednesday’s breathing had evened out and she could finally open her eyes without severe vertigo.

She pulled back until she could look up at you. Your brows were furrowed and you were giving her the best smile you could muster, but she knew concern when she saw it. Good, she hoped you were concerned. Whatever you had just done to her was horrible and unsettling and she was mad at you. It had made her seem weak and foolish and you were looking at her too softly.

“What did you do?”

“I- I panicked,” you mumbled. “Brought us up to the canopy.”

Ah. That explained it. The queasiness, the vertigo, her stomach jumping up into her throat. It had been your fault. Though, she would admit, your reaction speed was noteworthy. The shot had barely reached her ears before you had made your move, and she could see how it would be admirable.

You looked guilty, almost like a child who had gotten caught with their hand in the cookie jar. But Wednesday could see the way your wings still stayed near her even if they had to stretch further. She could see the way your hands were still subconsciously reaching toward her. Why? If you had thought there was a threat, you had reacted appropriately.

“Thank you.” A large exhale escaped your lips as you finally looked back at her. “But never do that again.”

“About that…” you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Don’t,” Wednesday warned, but you smiled sheepishly at her.

“It’s the only way to get down,” you said. Wednesday sighed.

“I hate you.”

[clairecrive]

"Bookish talks"- Billy Russo x reader

A/n: again, not requested but the idea popped into my mind after reading @faulty-coding piece. (I think)

Warnings: a bit of angst, misunderstandings but fluffy ending

Word count: 1.5k +

Tagging: @thefictionalgemini , @tarkanelima-blog , @pansysgirlfriend , @acciorudolphx (if you want, you can add yourself to my taglist by filling this form)

My masterlists are here.

"Yeah, she's been going on and on about this book. I've got five more minutes to go."

Well, the things you find out when you turn up where you're not supposed to be.

To be fair, you didn't mean to eavesdrop. When you got out that morning you had forgotten to take your wallet. Here explained why you had returned not even ten minutes from where you first walked out. You didn't even think that Billy would be still at home, so you didn't bother with announcing yourself.

And look what a surprise you were met with.

Taking your wallet, you hurried out of Billy's apartment set on not hearing anymore.

*+* *+* *+*

The day passed as it normally would. You had pushed back Billy's words in your mind because you had work to do. It wouldn't be smart to unpack what it meant so early in the morning when you had so much to do.

You weren't mad per se. You were rather hurt that he had never told you that he didn't enjoy your talks about the latest book you were reading. So yeah, let's add "stupid and guilty" under your current mood. You didn't want to put Billy in a position where he had to bear with something he didn't like. But how were you meant to know if he didn't talk to you?

This is not the moment, you reprimanded yourself with a shake of your head.

Coherent with your routine though, at six, Billy's call came. Of course, he acted normally, nothing had happened for him, after all.

"So, you coming around tonight?"

"Nope, book club meeting tonight."

"Oh, right. Was kinda hoping you'd ditch them."

"They're my outlet for my book nerdiness, Billy. Wouldn't want to annoy anyone with my craze over books."

"Who said you do?"

"You did."

It wasn't your intention to confront him on the matter over the phone. It was an instant reaction.

Billy didn't gasp but the silence you were met with was more than enough to show you that he'd been taken aback.

"Y/n-"

"It's okay, Billy. I don't mind if you don't like listening to me talking about books. I just wish you would have told me. I wouldn't be feeling so stupid and guilty for all the time I've made you waste now if you had."

"You didn't waste my time."

From that moment, things between you had Billy went back to normal. Sort of. He hadn't confronted you on the matter anymore and of course, you wouldn't bring it back up. So you settled in your usual routine, without of course any mention of books.

"Mh," looking at the clock on your desk you noticed that if you only have half an hour to finish your last assignment and before you need to leave, " I've got to go now, Billy. I'll talk to you soon." You ended the call without waiting for a response.

*+* *+* *+*

You were currently on Billy's sofa, leaning on him while you watched a documentary on Ancient Rome. It was interesting and it made you think about a book you had read on the subject a while ago. You opened your mouth to share your thoughts with Billy but a flashback of his words stopped you.

What if he hated it when you did that too?

"You're awfully quiet tonight." His voice startled you from your thoughts.

"A bit tired."

"Haven't got any anecdotes for me tonight?"

"Nope."

Your eyes didn't leave the tv screen. Yes, the documentary was interesting but you also didn't want Billy to know that you were lying. He had the uncanny ability of sensing whenever you weren't being genuine.

Out of the blue, the documentary stopped and the sound of the control hitting the coffee table told you that it was Billy who had paused it.

His hands grabbed your arms and pulled you away from him so that he could look you in the eyes.

"You're holding back."

"You're holding me back." Was your witty yet unnecessary reply. Billy's jaw clenched but the grip on your arms didn't tighten.

"Is this about the book thing?"

"We're watching a documentary, Billy. Why would it be about the book thing?"

"You always have something to say when we watch this stuff. Something you've read somewhere, some time ago." He explained, quoting you.

"I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me stuff," he added more softly when you didn't speak.

"Oh, I know I can. You just bitch about it with your friends whenever I do though."

His eyes squinted lightly, if his hands weren't on you, you probably would have missed how his shoulders tensed too.

"So it is about the book thing," he murmured releasing your arms.

"Well, Billy, you've basically fallen under the category of the white man who complains about how annoying his girlfriend is to his friends."

"I've not said you're annoying."

"You might as well have," you huffed crossing your arms, turning away from him.

"I know I sounded like an asshole but that's not what I meant. I really don't mind when you go off for ten minutes on some book you're reading."

"Spare me the bullshit, Billy. You don't have to lie to not hurt my feelings. It's too late for that anyway."

"I'm not lying." he insisted offended by your accusation but you didn't bother responding to him.

Billy sighed, one of his hands wiped over his face as he, no doubt, was trying to think of how to make this right. But maybe it was your time to speak.

"I realise that me sharing every thought or little thing that happens can be overwhelming." Fiddling with the fingers of your hands, you tried to find the right words.

"When me and Karen chose our university major, I was sure that our friendship was going to end. It happens, you take different paths and suddenly you go from best friends t someone you say hi to whenever you meet them around." You stopped to look at him. Bily's eyes were solely focused on you, so you continued.

"To avoid that, we developed a sort of routine where we would tell each other about our days, what we did, the things that happened, people we had met and stuff like that. We'd usually met once a week if not more often and this way we managed to strengthen our relationship and here we are after ten years, still best friends."

"Even if we went our separate ways, neither of us felt left out or behind from the other's life. I knew her friends even if I hadn't met them and since she told me everything I felt like I was as part of her life as I was when we shared every class together."

"I'm a rather introverted and reserved person, Billy. I'm sure you gathered that by now. I guess sharing this kind of things, books I read, things I do and stuff is my way of making you an active presence in my life. Because I care about you and I wouldn't want you to feel left out. Also because I don't feel the need to filter myself around you." A pause. "Well, did."

During your soliloquy, you didn't meet Billy's eyes. It felt deeply personal to share this with him but you hoped it would help him understand. Not necessarily make him enjoy your bookish talk but to make him at least not think of you as annoying.

Billy didn't speak. He had let you have your moment because it was clear that there were things you had been keeping to yourself. You hadn't been dating for long, only a couple of months, so you were still getting to know each other.

Yes, Billy wasn't exactly a bibliophile but he enjoyed the thought of being someone you trusted so much to the point where you're not afraid of opening up.

He really wanted to kick himself for having ruined that. For making you feel like a burden.

Leaning towards you, he gently turned your face to him.

"What you've heard the other day was me explaining to Frankie what I was doing." His voice was soft as if he was afraid that he'd ruin the intimate atmosphere by speaking louder.

"I was listening to your message about that book and yes, it was seven minutes long and yes, you were going on and on about a character's motives and his psychology but I didn't mean to imply it was annoying." His eyes flickered between yours and he seemed truthful enough but you were still hesitant.

"It's okay if you don't enjoy it, Billy. My father hates whenever I do that but that doesn't mean that he loves me any less." You offered him another way out.

"Well, I guess this is why you told me you're not looking for a man like your father."

"Are we good?" He murmured, eyes flickering between yours. You nodded leaning into his touch.

"Trust me, you're nothing like my father." you chuckled, accepting his words for what you knew knew they implied.

Smiling at you, Billy's hands reaching to cup your cheeks.

"Do you promise to talk to me if there's something wrong?" You asked him, needing the reassurance.

"Don't I always talk your ears off when you leave your stuff hanging around?" True enough but you needed him to say it.

"I promise." He conceded, nose bumping into yours before kissing you softly.

"So, got any fun fact to share?" He asked you again, pointing to the tv with his head.

"I've got a few, yes." You shily smiled at him.

"Hit me." Leaning back on the sofa, he got comfortable as he encouraged you to speak.

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

FIRST TIME....WITH A TWIST

Prompt: Requested by a lovely nonny ❤️ I hope you like it and thank you so much 💕😘

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Damian Priest x Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, rough sex, slight dirty talk

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @ziasaph , @theworldofotps , @sassymox , @aerynscrichton , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @sunnyyeoo , @bayley-no-friends , @alyhull

Notes: If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😘

We were holding hands as we left the restaurant. The night had been nothing but perfect! Damian is always the most incredible gentleman, so caring, thoughtful, open doors, and brings flowers...As we approached his car, I said

“I didn’t want this night to end...”

“It doesn’t have to” He smiled

I smiled back “Do you think we could go to your place?”

Since I shared my apartment with a friend, I knew we would have more privacy at his place instead.

“It would be my pleasure” He kissed my knuckles before closing the passenger door

We spent the roughly fifteen minute drive to his place in a comfortable silence.

Damian and I had been officially dating for two months now and we hadn’t had sex yet. We agreed on taking this slow and it was kinda funny how all the times we tried to have sex, something happened: My roommate came home unexpectedly, someone called him, someone called me, a fight happened in the next door neighbor’s apartment...It almost felt as if the universe was trying to cock block us.

“Let’s go, mami” He offered me his hand, to help me get out of his SUV so I wouldn’t risk losing my balance in the six inch heels I had chosen to wear

“Thank you” I smiled and took his hand

Damian then escorted me inside his home, and proceeded to give me the “grand tour”

“This is a fancy place you’ve got” I said as I collapsed onto his lovely black leather couch after said tour

“Nah” He chuckled, while handing me a glass of red wine “It’s a nice house but it’s nothing fancy” He took a sip of his wine

“It’s very pretty” I said while looking around “You have an incredible taste”

“I sure do” He stared at me with dark, lustful eyes

My cheeks became a bright shade of pink from his comment, and I took another sip of the wine in order to swallow away my shyness

Damian scooted closer to me “Did you enjoy our dinner?”

“Yes, I loved it. Thank you” I smiled fondly “What are you thinking about?”

“Honestly?”

“Yes, D. Honestly”

“I’m thinking about how the wine is kicking in and I really want to make out with you...hard”

I laughed lightly “You sound like a horny teenager” And placed my wine glass on his coffee table

“Wanna do something about it?” I smirked

“Oh” He chuckled while I straddled his hips “Mami...don’t tease me like that”

“I’m serious!” I took his wine glass away from him and placed it near my own.

“Are you?” He smiled lazily

“Dead serious, Priest” I leaned down to capture his lips in a sensual kiss

Damian’s hands came down to my ass, spreading his palms on my cheeks. Our kiss deepened, and I pressed my breasts against his sculpted chest

“Mira, mami...” He pulled back “We should stop-”

“But I don’t wanna stop” I whined

“You know where this will lead us, right?”

“Yes, and I’ve been wanting to go there for at least a month” I smirked

Damian smiled while pulling me towards him “So you’ve been thinking about getting this dick, huh?” He teased

“A lot!”

“I can help you out with that” He smirked

“Oh please do! I’m tired of using my vibrator for that” I chuckled but Damian’s eyes became dark with lust

“I do want you to show me exactly how you use your vibrator later on though” He growled

Picking me up in his arms, he took me to his bedroom and placed me down on his bed. Damian kissed down my body, while stripping me off my clothes

“You’re so fucking beautiful” He whispered against the waistband of my pink lace panties

“Baby, please” I whimpered

He smirked while pulling my underwear down. His tongue soon met my clit, followed by his lips closing around the little bundle of nerves

“Fuck” I moaned softly and Damian hummed

The vibrations of his humming made me see stars, and when he slid one, and then two fingers in me, I could’ve sworn I died and went to heaven

“Holy shit” I gasped as Damaian crooked his fingers

“I want you to cum on my tongue, mami” He kissed my clit “Will you do that for me?”

“Fuck yes” I moaned

“C’mon, mi amor” He turned up the pace of his fingers “Let me taste you” And kissed my inner thigh before closing his lips around my clit again

My walls closed around his fingers as my orgasm exploded. His name left my lips as a mantra and it was the only thing I could say.

Damian’s lips soon covered mine and I could taste myself on his lips

“Fuck, you’re good” I gasped

“I didn’t even get started with you, bebé” He chuckled, while quickly stripping off his clothes

“Let me-”

“Later, mami. Now I just need to be in you” He urgently said while covering my body with his.

Damian placed his tip against my entrance and slowly thrusted forward. While kissing my lips he began this sweet love making session, and I was just...not having it.

It wasn’t what I wanted or needed. I wanted rougher, dirtier and faster!

“Baby” I broke our kiss “It’s not working...can you go faster?”

“Faster?”

“Yeah, like...rough?”

“You like it rough?”

“I love it” I confessed

Damian smirked “Oh mami, we were certainly made for each other” And placed my legs up on his shoulders “Because I love a hard fucking” He smirked before pounding in me - hard

“Fuck, yes baby” I moaned as his cock kept hitting my g-spot

“Is this better, amor? Getting your pussy pounded hard makes you feel better?”

“So much better” I gasped “Choke me, please” I placed his hand around my throat

Damian growled “You’re such a perfect little slut, aren’t you? Choking, rough fucking...” He licked a stripe from my neck to my cheek

“Yes, sir” I whispered “Your perfect little slut” I smiled

“MY perfect little slut” He smiled back “I can’t wait to play with you all night long, mami. I wanna tie you up, edge this sweet little pussy until you’re begging me for mercy, fuck you until you can’t walk straight tomorrow morning”

“Yes, please do. Do all of it”

“Oh I will! Trust me when I say you won’t ever think about any other man once I’m done with you”

“I don’t want any other man, I just want you! No one has ever fucked me this good” I looked down towards where we were joined together

“Now that’s a shame” He grabbed my hips with his hands, pinned me down to the mattress and moved his hips at an almost inhuman pace “We’ll change that, don’t worry...We got all night long to do so” He chuckled

Damian’s thumb began to rub my clit furiously and it only took that to make me cum for the second time tonight

“Fuck” I moaned loudly as my walls closed hard around him, making almost impossible for him to move

“So fucking tight” He grunted and seconds later, his own release was triggered

Damian’s hot, thick seed coated my walls, triggering another mini orgasm in me. He kept himself buried deep in me, until he started to soften.

He laid down by my side and pulled me closer to him, so I could lay down on top of him

“I’ve been needing this for so long” I purred

While chuckling, Damian caressed my hair “That makes two of us, mami”

I rested my chin on top of his chest “Really?”

“Of course, Y/N. I’ve been thinking about getting down and dirty with you ever since our first date!” He laughed

“Oh, you’re nasty” I teased and straddled his hips

“I am, and as far as I could tell, you are too” He sit up and hugged me tightly

“Yes, sir” I whispered “So when do I get to be tied up, huh?”

"Ay mami” He quickly turned us around and my back was now against the mattress “You have no idea what I plan to do with you” And smirked

Please, if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

[redpandaramblings]

Like Caramel For Chocolate- An Omega Bakugou x Alpha f!Reader fic. Part 3.

Part 1- Here

Previous part Here

Next Part Here

Content Warning: Negative headspace, omegaverse, self deprecation, depressive thoughts, pushy parental figures, ambiguous omegaverse reproduction, unhealthy relationships, relationship that could be easily fixed if idiots would use their words and communicate, Shinso/Denki side relationship

Where we left off-

You glanced up at the sound of the door. In came your parents, then the Yokomadas. You did a double take as the final person, the omega you were here to meet, entered the room. They looked equally as startled as your eyes locked.

“Y/N?”

“Denki?!”

You slowly walked through the teahouse garden, your electric blond friend oddly silent as he kept pace with you. Your parents and the Yokomadas had allowed the two of you a bit of privacy to talk. So far, neither of you had mustered the courage to break the awkward atmosphere. Neither your parents or the Yokomadas had seemed to pick up on Denki or your mood. If anything, they were thrilled you two already knew each other. With a sigh, you sat on a bench by the koi pond, not looking at the blond as to settled down next to you. After several minutes, he spoke.

“So. What are you doing here?”

You snorted, and gently dumped your shoulder against his.

“Right back at you, Pikachu.”

“I’ll tell you. After you tell me.”

You chuckled humorously, and tilted your head back to look at the sky.

“Would you believe me if I said I was just here to appease my mother?”

Denki considered for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. You’ve been saying no to her for years. So tell me, why are you here.”

You take a deep breath and let it out again slowly through your nose.

“I… I think I wanted to be here. Needed to.” You wrung your hands, throwing a sideways glance at Denki. “I… I want to be mated. Have a family. Have someone who needs me and lets me need them. I used to think Kat… I used to think Bakugou was my person. But I’m not sure anymore, Denks. You know what he’s like and so do I, but I’ve waited for years, and nothing, and I’m so tired, and I’m not even sure he even likes me anymore, and…” You’re stopped by Kaminari gently rubbing your back.

“Breath, Y/n. Come on. Deep breaths.”

You inhaled shakily. You hadn’t even noticed you’d been hyperventilating. Quiet settled again, aside from the sounds of nature and your slowly slowing breathing. After a few moments, you spoke again.

“I’m just so lonely, Denks. I see him every day, and I’m still so goddamn lonely. So I think… I think it’s time to let go.” Your lips twitched slightly upward as you tilt your head to look at him. “Am I terrible?”

Denki huffed out a breath and shook his head. “You? Never.” He sighed, removing his hand from you back as he began picking at the hem of his sleeve. “I wish I could say I didn’t understand. But I do. I’m kinda here for the same reason after all.”

You gave an encouraging hum and reached out, taking his hand in yours and running your thumb over his knuckles. He interlaced your fingers, giving a squeeze before continuing to speak.

“You know how I feel about Shinso, right?”

“I think everyone but Shinso knows how you feel about him.”

Denki snorted. “Yeah. Not surprised. But that’s the problem. I’ve liked him for years. Little bit of a crush but at UA, thought I could play it cool and it would go away; but then the agency paired us together and, well.” Denki gestured with the hand not holding yours. “It was so easy! I’d go boom! And then he’d go pow! Then shoom! It was amazing! He was amazing… And so I tried to get his attention. I tried so damn hard. And you know me.”

You snorted, giving his hand a squeeze. “You’re about as subtle as a brick through a living room window.”

“Exactly!” He shouted, pulling away to stand up and pace. “I flirted. I used all my best pick up lines. I asked him out to the club, and he said yes. But do you know what he said afterward? He said though it wasn’t his usual scene, it was really good being able to hang out with a friend. I… I asked him to spend my heat with me.”

You inhaled sharply. Kaminari looked at you with an expression you hardly recognized. He collapsed onto the bench, leaning heavily against you.

“He said ‘I’m glad you’re that comfortable with me, but it probably would be better for you to ask someone else.’” Denki whispered, sniffling.

“Oh.. Denki.” You wrapped your arms around the blond, squeezing him tightly. Half out of instinct, you tried to pump out soothing pheromones while you gently scented his hair. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing, sweetheart. You’re a wonderful omega!”

That was all it took for Denki to start sobbing heavily in your arms. You squeezed him tightly as tears filled your own eyes. The tears fell when Denki wrapped his arms around you, hugging you just as tightly as you held him. There in the tranquil garden you both huddled together as you finally allowed yourself to cry. Years of hurt and longing fell from your eyes one drop at a time.

You weren’t sure how long it had been when the two of you slowly pulled away from each other. You used your thumbs to wipe Denki’s cheeks. He gave you a halfhearted smile.

“So,” you asked tentatively, “what should we do? They’re going to expect an answer from us about this whole…” You waved a vague hand “Marriage date thing.”

Denki hummed, puffing up his cheeks as he blew out a breath. “God, I don’t know. Certainly wasn’t expecting it be you, you know? No offense.”

You drew back, gasping in mock anger. “Full offense!” You could only hold your expression a few seconds before you started snickering.

Denki grinned his first really grin of the day. “Well excuuuuse me for insulting your alpha sensibilities.”

“You’re excused. For now.”

You both chuckled. Looking out at the pond, you spoke again. “I just wish I had the right answers. And I really wish we had more time.”

Denki furrowed his brow. “Well… Technically, we could.”

“What do you mean?”

Denki bounced on his seat. “Okay. So. Hear me out. We both need time to process, clearly. Also clearly, our families are just not gonna give us that. So… Why don’t we do this?”

“Wait. Wait. We do this?” you asked, both curious and incredulous.

“Yeah! Think about it. One! They mainly want us in relationships they approved of. They set us up, so clearly, they approve. Two! If we say we’d like to try out this match, they obviously aren’t going to set up any more dates; therefore buying us time. And bonus of no annoying randos. Three! We can say we’re going to take the relationship slow because we’ve both been burned before and want to make sure. Four! Four…” Denki trailed off, looking at his feet.

“Four is maybe if we can’t find a love match at least we’re friends who work well together?” You murmured.

Denki nodded, glancing at you with a rueful smirk. “Yeah. Exactly. Vibe on the same wavelength. Hell, we even want similar shit in life.”

“Actual house, few pets, stability…”

Denki nodded again. “Sucks, but would make sense for us to consider it. As much as I fucking hate the ‘You’re not getting any younger’ speech, they are kind right. We can’t waste all our time waiting for things that aren’t gonna happen.”

You shook your head with a chuckle. “God, don’t you hate it when they’re right about shit like that?”

“You have no idea.”

You stood, stretching. “Well, I guess we go tell them, then.”

Denki groaned. “There isn’t enough saki in the world for that conversation.”

“And just so we’re clear, this stays between us for now, right? No one knows but us, our folks, and I guess your cousins.”

“Agreed. I don’t want to think about what anyone would say. Bakugou would kill me!”

You winced. “Unlikely. I doubt he’d care. But if Mina finds out, everyone will know.”

“You’re not kidding. No worries from me, I don't want this getting out any more than you do.”

“So… Engaged, I guess?”

Denki dusted himself off and stood. “Deal. Engaged.” Denki stuck his hand out, and you shook it.

You both turned and started making your way back to the teahouse, taking your time and going the long way to be sure to avoid and of the other patrons. This was fine. A good plan. Nothing could go wrong as long as no one found out.

And there you have part 3! Sorry the wait and thank you all for being patient! If anyone has any questions regarding the fic or how this particular omegaverse operates, please feel free to shoot me an ask. Also, please note that @snuggleyourredpandas is my main account, so it you see a message reply from them, that's me!

TAGLIST- @yzviea, @not-a-pushover, @thelilypieforever, @kumihayu, @aomi04, @ladybakugouu, @one-simp-more, @hakunamatatayqueen, @my-thoughts-are-weird, @left-alone-yuki, @officialtrashbusiness Just a reminder, if you want tagged make sure you have the ability to be tagged turned on; and I'd have to be informed if your blog name changes! Cheers, Darlings!

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 23}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta was torn.

Half of her thought that Cassian was overreacting, but the other half of her thought that his anger and frustration was perfectly justified.

What exactly were they getting into? And, was it what was best for Nyx? Yeah, the last month had been great, but if it didn’t work out, what would that mean for him? Would it be better if she and Cassian had simply remained two friends, co-parenting under one roof?

Nesta’s heart began to beat a little faster.

She felt like she was going into a panic attack.

Cassian and Nyx had been gone for an hour, and every second that passed became more and more unbearable.

She needed him to be there.

She needed to figure this out.

She just didn’t know what the answer was.

Alis had gotten into her head, there was no doubt about that. A little over an hour ago, she was living in a dream, then Alis came in, out of nowhere, and brought her back to reality.

She was sitting on the couch, almost exactly where he’d left her, when he finally returned. He was covered in sweat, his t-shirt sticking to him. Nyx was having a conversation with him, more to himself though, since it didn’t seem like Cassian was even close to paying attention to him. But his eyes went directly to Nesta as soon as he walked in.

She’d changed. She no longer wore his t-shirt, instead in a loose shirt of her own and a pair of jeans, and her hair was loose and wet around her face. As if she’d need to shower their night together, shower him off of her. Not a shred of that beautiful skin was showing, not like she’d been doing lately. Leggings and shorts and tank tops. She’d been comfortable around him.

With a scoff, Cassian set Nyx down on the floor. He headed for the stairs, but Nesta stood, nearly toppling the cup of coffee she’d been clutching over as she set it on the coffee table. “Cassian, we need to talk about this.”

He paused, waving a hand towards her. “What for? It looks like you’ve already made your decision.”

“I need you to calm down,” she said, steadily. “I need you to think logically.”

Cassian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I need you to tell me.”

Nesta hesitated. “Tell you what?”

“If this is something you want to pursue or if I just wasted the last couple months falling in love with you,” he finished.

His voice may have lacked emotion, but Nesta felt every word like a stab in the chest. Falling in love with you. Those were the words she was going to tell him today, under much different circumstances.

Now, she didn’t know what to think.

Now, she was overwhelmed.

Now, all of her thoughts were rushing toward the same spot in the middle of her skull at a thousand miles an hour, and when they got there, her head would explode.

“It’s not that easy,” she said, and her voice cracked.

“But it should be,” Cassian said. “If you feel the way that I do, it should be that easy.”

“We have to think of Nyx,” she breathed.

“I am thinking of Nyx,” he said, struggling to keep his voice low. At the sound of his name, the baby turned to look at him. “I want him to grow up in a happy home, seeing two people who love each other, and damn it if that isn’t how it’s been for the past few weeks.”

“It’s not that simple,” Nesta said, shaking her head. “What happens if we break up? What happens if we get in a fight or something happens to one of us? What then?”

He had strode down the stairs and was in front of her before he could stop himself. He framed her face in his hands, like he had so many times the past month, to kiss her, to make love to her, to show her how he cared for her. “Why are you worrying about the what if’s? Why are you worrying about what could go wrong, rather than how right everything has been?”

Because everything goes wrong eventually. The only reason we’re together is because we were shoved into this house after the worst thing imaginable happened. They died. We took over. What right do we have to be happy?

The words flooded her mind, but stilled on her tongue.

Nesta didn’t push him away. She wanted to reach up on her toes and kiss him, softly, but she didn’t.

Instead, she met his gaze. “Cass,” she breathed.

The pain in his eyes nearly shattered her heart into a million pieces.

Nyx had walked up to them and was hugging Nesta’s leg, as if he knew that she needed the comfort.

“Dont say my name like that,” he whispered.

Nesta slowly shook her head. “I just think this has all happened too quickly. We haven’t been thinking, we’ve just been acting-.”

“You’re pushing me away,” Cassian interrupted, swallowing harshly. “Damn it, Nesta.”

“You don’t understand,” she pleaded.

“Because you’re not making sense,” he argued. “Things have been perfect—”

“They’re dead!” She cried, pulling from his grip, scooping Nyx up. “Things have been far from perfect. We’re only like this now because Rhys and Feyre are dead.”

The words seemed to freeze something inside of Cassian and he stepped back as well. “So what? We go back to how we used to be? I’m back in the guest room and we awkwardly exchange good mornings over breakfast?”

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sight of him, the scent of him, everything. “I don’t know, Cassian, I don’t—.” She took a shuddering breath, her arms wrapping tighter around Nyx. “I just need some time to think, to breathe…”

When she looked back up at him, his jaw was set and he was slowly nodding. “Fine. Take your time.”

And then he was moving, back up the stairs before Nesta could even ask what he was doing.

A few minutes later, he was back with a duffle bag in his hands.

“Wh—what are you doing?”

“Giving you space,” he said, refusing to meet her gaze.

Nesta opened her mouth but nothing came out. She was frozen where she stood, her feet stuck to the floor, her mouth hanging open, that panic rising from the pit of her stomach into her heart, which was beating far too quickly.

Cassian kissed Nyx on the forehead as he passed, but paid Nesta no mind as he went for the door.

“Cassian!” She called, at last.

Cassian stopped just in front of the door, keeping his back to her, one hand on the doorknob.

“You're just going to leave?” She asked, quietly, bouncing a sleepy Nyx on her hip. “Just like that?”

Cassian didn’t turn around. “Are you going to ask me to stay?”

Yes. No. I don’t know. Nesta said nothing.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he grumbled, exhaustion lacing his tone. “Maybe I need time to think, too.”

He opened the door and shut it softly behind him.

*

He didn’t know where else to go. He didn’t have anywhere else to go.

He knew where he wanted to be, but right now…

He couldn’t look at her.

It didn’t escape him that when he’d told her he’d fallen in love with her, she didn’t say it back. He couldn’t even act like he hadn’t seen her eyes flare in panic. So he couldn’t stay there. Couldn’t go back to sleeping in that guest room, not when he’d become so used to sleeping with her in his arms every night.

So Cassian had ended up here, knocking on his brother’s door, thankful that his car had been parked in the driveway when he pulled up.

He needed a drink. He needed someone to tell him he was being an asshole. He needed someone to listen while he vented and bitched. He knew Azriel would do all that for him.

When he answered the door, Seph was in his arms, pulling on his bottom lip. She smiled when she saw Cassian, but Azriel’s surprised smile quickly faded.

“Do I want to know?” He asked, looking at the duffel bag tossed over Cassian’s shoulder.

Cassian sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

Azriel stared at him for a second before stepping aside and letting Cassian pass.

“Are we talking about this now or later?” Azriel asked, shutting the door behind them.

“Beer?” Cassian asked, dropping his bag beside the couch.

“Fridge,” Azriel said, slowly, watching him.

Cassian made his way to the kitchen and threw open the refrigerator door, grabbing a cold bottle and chugging its contents.

Azriel followed, leaning against the countertop and Seph continued to play with his lips.

“Where’s Elain?” Cassian asked, tossing the empty bottle into the trash and getting another.

“Work,” Azriel said, sighing. “So, if this involves smack talking Nesta, you may want to get it out now.”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to do that, barely wanted to think about her. But he owed Azriel at least some explanation.

“The social worker stopped by this morning,” he sighed, leaning back against the counter and opening the beer. “And honestly, yeah, it was unexpected, but I figured it’d be fine. Last time, Nes was drunk off her ass, but we— I figured, since we were more of a family this time, things would be great.”

Azriel blinked. “They’re not taking Nyx, are they?”

Another shake of his head. “No, gods, no. They— She could tell he was in good hands, but she immediately picked up on Nesta and I. What we’ve…become.”

It seemed, just like Cassian, Azriel didn’t see it as a problem. He wasn’t following. “And?”

“And Nyx was hungry so I left the social worker and Nesta alone to get him breakfast. I came back and she’s gone and Nesta is second-guessing our relationship. She asked if I’m just fucking her out of convenience.”

The thought made him sick to his stomach, almost as badly as it hurt his heart.

“And you replied with…” Azriel began, trailing off, waiting for Cassian to finish the sentence.

“I went for a jog,” Cassian said, shrugging.

“So you ran away?” Azriel pushed.

Cassian shot him a look. “No. I went for a jog.”

Azriel sighed. “And when you came back?”

“She said she needed space,” Cassian said, emptying his bottle.

Azriel set Seph on the floor with a plastic spatula, which she instantly start banging on the cabinets. “And that’s when you ran away?”

“I didn’t run,” Cassian snapped. “I gave her what she wanted. I gave her space.”

Azriel slowly shook his head. “Did you even try to talk things out?”

“Yes,” Cassian said, the word clipped. “Told her I was falling in love with her, and guess how she replied?”

Azriel watched his brother.

“Didn’t say a fucking word,” Cassian finished.

When Azriel didn’t speak, he walked back to the trash can, dropping the bottle inside.

“Quit looking at me like I’m the bad guy here,” he said, unable to turn around and look his brother in the eye. “She was ending it. She was calling things off and I’m supposed to, what? Just keep living there like we were before? Pretend nothing has changed?” He swallowed hard, willing the damn tears clouding his vision to fade. They wouldn’t. “She didn’t even ask me to stay.”

Azriel sighed, opening a cabinet beside the fridge that Seph couldn’t reach. He produced a bottle of whiskey and set it on the counter. “I can’t drink until Elain gets home. And I absolutely think you need to talk to Nesta, but I think you’re right. You need to stay here tonight. Give her space.”

Cassian blinked, and a tear that was holding on slid free, down his cheek. He angrily wiped it away. He felt ridiculous, but it had been a long time since he had told a woman that he loved her. He’d never said it in his adulthood. A couple times in his teens, before he knew what the word really meant, but never as an adult.

He’d said it.

He’d meant it.

And she hadn’t felt the same.

Cassian nodded and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

*

Nesta stared at Cassian’s contact on her phone screen.

She wanted to press the call button, but didn’t.

She did open a blank text a few times, but couldn’t type anything.

She didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to do.

She knew what she wanted.

She wanted Cassian.

But, she didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

She had never been one who was dependent on a man, had spent most of her twenties single and having no problem with it. But suddenly, she couldn’t imagine her day to day life without Cassian in it. And that terrified her.

She heard murmuring on the baby monitor sitting next to her on the side table and glanced over to see Nyx sitting up in his crib.

It had been nearly three hours since Cassian left, and aside from putting Nyx down for a nap, Nesta had barely moved. She still sat in the same spot on the couch she’d been in when the social worker had shown up and when she’d ignored that Cassian had said that he loved her.

The words should have filled her with joy and she should have screamed from the rooftops that she loved him, too. Instead she locked up and thought she was going to be sick.

What was wrong with her?

Wiping away the tears she didn’t even realize had fallen, Nesta hurried up the stairs, and into Nyx’s nursery. He reached for her the moment he saw her, his own big, blue eyes beginning to fill with tears.

“What’s wrong, bubba?” She cooed, resting his head against her shoulder.

After a deep sigh, he looked up at her and reached for a tear that had fallen down her cheek. His lip began to wobble.

“I’m okay,” Nesta promised, even though her voice cracked and those tears continued. “I’m okay, buddy, I promise.”

Nyx knew, though.

He knew something wasn’t right.

He knew Cassian was gone.

He knew Nesta was heartbroken.

Little did he know that her heartbreak was self-inflicted.

Nyx laid his head back on her shoulder and clung to her. He stayed like that as she walked back downstairs and sat back in her spot on the couch.

He held onto her, looking around the room. She knew he was looking for him and was about to tell him he wasn’t here when he spoke. The word wasn’t a mash up of noises like it had always been. No, it was a true and steady word. His first word.

“Dada?”

Nesta froze. She didn’t even know what to say. Should she tell him Cassian wasn’t his father? He probably wouldn’t even understand, just like he didn’t understand where Rhys and Feyre had gone.

But…for all intents and purposes, Cassian was his daddy now. And she was his mama.

So she pressed a kiss to his dark hair and whispered. “He had to leave, baby. He had to go for a little while.”

Nesta hoped and prayed that Cassian would walk back through that door, and yet, she couldn’t muster the courage to ask him to.

That night, instead of Cassian taking up the spot next to her, it was Nyx, who held her hand until they both fell asleep.

[mandoalorian]

hello, lovely. i'm stalking you today but not on purpose. can i pretty please request general - #12 on the prompt list with din djarin? i'm feeling soft today. 🥰 thank you.

Glittering Silver [Din Djarin x Gender Neutral!Reader]

Prompt: “Come back to bed, please.”

Summary: The Mandalorian hasn’t been sleeping much lately, and tonight is the night you find out why.

Warnings: mutual pining, soft fluff/smidge of angst. [Rated T]

Reblogs appreciated because it’s not showing up in tags🤍

It was hard to tell whether or not you were overstepping. You were, after all, only ‘crew’ on the Crest. You weren’t even sure if you could call Din a friend, really. You’d like to think he considered you a friend. You helped with his kid and he occasionally showed you sentiments of gratitude. But, he wasn’t the easiest of people to read.

The past few nights, something had been preying on his mind. Something had been keeping him awake. In the darkness of the hull, you could hear the clattering off his beskar armour as he dropped it to the ground. You usually slept on the floor, with a crocheted blanket that Din purchased especially for you, from a market in the Illenium System. “My pilot chair is a lot more comfortable,” his gruff voice would tell you, every damned night. “Or my bed.”

But you were used to sleeping on the floor; and with the blanket, it truly wasn’t so bad.

Despite it being completely pitch black, you could just about make out the glittering silver that shone by your feet. He’d discarded his plates of armour into a pile and was now wearing only his dark grey sweatshirt and black pants. He was circling around you, his footsteps heavy as he paced back and forth.

“...Din?” you rasped out, rubbing your tired eyes. There was no way of telling just how late it was.

The footsteps suddenly stopped.

“You’re awake.” Din’s voice was sweet like honey, but also, unmodulated. His words came out like a statement, rather than a question, and for a fleeting moment, you thought he sounded panicked.

You didn’t exactly want to tell him how his antics had been keeping you awake these past few nights; or how you were more than aware of his newfound habit of pacing around in anxious circles by your feet.

You knew he wasn’t wearing his helmet and so, out of respect, you closed your eyes again.

“What’s wrong?” you simply asked, tredding lightly on your words. Din was never one to open up or talk about his feelings.

“Can’t sleep.” he responded.

Go figure.

“Why?”

Another pause.

“You can’t be comfortable on the floor,” he huffed, and Maker, he sounded frustrated more than anything else. “Just— come to bed with me, please.”

It’s what he’d been asking of you for weeks now.

Was that really what had been preying on his mind? Your comfort? Surely not. You’d expressed more than enough times you were fine sleeping on the floor.

It’s not that you didn’t want to sleep with Din... you actually really liked the thought of your bodies crushed up together in such a close proximity. You liked the feeling of being snug against his chest and hearing his gentle snores. Maker, you liked him. It’s just, you didn’t want to overstep your boundaries.

“There’s not a chance the two of us will fit in that metal slab you call a bed,” you chuckled softly, dodging his request just like he’d dodged yours. “Why don’t you lay here, on the floor? There’s more than enough room.”

“I can’t.” he replied sadly. His dejected tone only confused you further.

“What do you mean, you can’t?” You padded down the floor next to you with your hand and straightened out your blanket.

“It won’t help.”

Won’t help what, exactly? You stiffened slightly. “I’m not following...”

Din sighed. “It won’t help,” he snapped again, this time his voice even more gruff and angrier than you’d ever heard him before. “You were only meant to be crew. Only meant to help with repairs on the ship and take care of the kid and— that’s it! That’s all you were supposed to be!”

“Din I don’t— I don’t understand—“

“Do you not want to sleep with me, is that it? Because I’d never force you, but just— make it clear. Be clear with me.”

“Is that what this is about?” you quizzed, completely and utterly baffled.

“I— I— agh,” Din kicked the pile of beskar armour, and cursed in a language you could only assume was Mando’a. “I have feelings for you!” He shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls in the dead of night. “And I shouldn’t! I know I shouldn’t. But listen, you always look so pretty when you’re fixing up the engine and you have grease on your cheeks and oil splatters on your clothes, and your hair is sticking up in random directions. When I see you holding Grogu, my heart melts. And I feel bad for him because he loves you so much. He’ll be broken when you eventually leave. Because everyone always leaves eventually.”

Sometime during his outburst, you had stood up and tried to make your way over to him, your eyes still shut. Your arms were extended, trying your hardest to feel the way. Your stomach burst into butterflies when Din grabbed onto your hands and steadied you.

“Who says that I want to leave?” you sniffed, feeling completely and utterly full by his revelation. “I— I have feelings for you too.”

Din made a exasperated sound and dropped one of your hands. “No,” he muttered. “You haven’t even seen my face. How can you have feelings for me? You won’t even sleep with me.”

You let go off his hands and reached up, cupping his face. In the darkness, you could feel the brassiness of his stubble and the sharpness of his jaw. No, you couldn’t see his face, and you were fine with that, but there was something so special about him letting you touch you this way. It was an intimacy you’d never experienced before.

“Come back to bed, please.” you whispered.

“I don’t want to lose you.” Din croaked, trying to fight back tears.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, softly shushing the bounty hunter. “Come back to bed with me. Let me hold you.”

He did, eventually, without any further protest.

Knowing he was comfortable in his own bed, you slipped in next to him. There was no need for any more fighting or arguing when you both felt the same way about each other. Your mind was racing a million miles an hour, in complete disbelief that he actually liked you back. It felt like a dream you were unable to even fathom.

It was cozy at least, your warm bodies pressed against each other just like you’d imagined. You wrapped a tired arm around Din’s torso and shuffled into his chest.

“I do have feelings for you, Din,” you admitted. “I have for a long time. I didn’t want to sleep with you because I was scared.”

“Scared of me?” Din asked.

“No,” you replied. “Scared of what it might do to us. I didn’t know where we stood.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

You smiled to yourself and reached down to hold his hand. “I’m just glad I know now.”

———————————————————

Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711 @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @xoxo-callie @stardust-galaxies​ @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal l @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja200 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat @rye-flower @theamuz @persie33 @sleepylunarwolf @martellthemandalor @pedro-pastel @steeevienicks @rrtxcmt @saphic-susperia @readsalot73 @softmedics @jade10077 @dodgerandevans @planetariumx @pascals-cat @ajeff855 @spideysimpossiblegirl @smoldjarin

[seita]

— live now: redlove | eijirou kirishima (m.)

pairing: eijirou kirishima/reader ft. katsuki bakugou.

genre: fluff, smut, pwp

wordcount: 𝟷𝟼𝟹𝟽

cw: cam couple!au, prohero!bakugou, established relationship

tags: voyeurism (bakugou’s pov), dirty talk, masturbation, humilation/degredation, begging, light praise, rough sex, doggy style, choking, hair pulling, light spanking, baku has a crush

note: i have no excuses for this lmao. i was originally gonna make this into a fic where bakugou joins u nd kiri but,,,i kind of want to make this like a series or something????

—  bakugou enjoys porn. especially live cam porn. he discovers the cam couple redlove and is immediately smitten.

blog navigation.

 next. the lottery: redlove ⇨

© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.    

Bakugou watched porn. Just like every other guy on the planet. He enjoyed it, especially since as a pro-hero, he didn’t have the opportunity to get into sustainable relationships. He was the #2 hero so finding himself someone who wanted him because he was Katsuki Bakugou and not Ground Zero was near impossible. 

So, he turned to porn. Sounds sad now that he thought about it but truthfully, he never thought twice about it. It was just the way things were. 

More specifically, he had an interest in cam porn. The live stream kind. He couldn’t quite pinpoint why that was ― there was just something alluring about watching porn live. 

Usually, he stuck to solo girl content, every once in a while he’d venture to the male side. It was only recently, however, that he discovered the booming community of couples cams. 

Watching couples have sex live was even more enticing than watching men and woman masturbate or watching amateur porn. It seemed so intimate, watching these couples together. Almost forbidden. 

And he was sure that was exactly what made him cum so hard every single time. He liked watching these couples have sex, feeling like he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to.

Many times, he’d stroke his cock to the idea of being humiliated by a couple as he watched them together. Filthy thoughts and words filtered into his mind, his eyes closed as he panted to the idea. They’d call him disgusting, a pig for getting hard watching ―  how only a slut would act as lewd as he did. Maybe they’d shame him; #2 pro hero Ground Zero a pathetic whore. 

It wasn’t until one night, he laid in bed browsing the couple’s livestreams on his favorite website, he discovered one couple that immediately caught his eye. The thumbnail showed a redheaded guy with spiky hair sitting on the edge of the bed with a pretty girl with marvelously smooth skin sat behind him with her arms wrapped around his shoulders. The young man’s hair color must have been the inspiration behind their channel name: redlove. He could only assume they had just started the stream and were looking at comments when the picture set. 

The stream was titled “We had a long day”. Bakugou couldn’t help but scoff at such a title, it was hardly enticing. Most streams had things like ‘watch me squirt until i cry!!!’ or “he makes my pussy hurt so good” or some other cringy shit. He would have been tempted to scroll past but he couldn’t deny just how attractive the couple was. Not to say there weren’t attractive people doing cam porn, no he’d seen his fair share of beautiful women and handsome men. 

But redlove were stunning together. They looked like a perfect match, he could tell just by how you were holding him that just oozed affection for the redhead. 

Another thing that caught the blonde’s eye was the view count: most cammers had in the double digits ― 20 or 30 viewers. Every once in a while he’d catch a particularly popular cammer and see a few hundred but it had never exceeded 200. So the live view count, the number of people watching them at that exact moment, was currently displayed on redlove’s stream link had him baffled.

Edging on 800 viewers. Sitting at 782.

It was clear the two of you were immensely popular. There had to be a good reason. 

Curious and thoroughly intrigued, he tapped the screen of his phone to get into their stream. 

It took a moment to buffer, all the activity with the chat making it lag a bit. When it finally finished loading, Bakugou felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs. His cock was immediately hard, straining against his boxers.

It was clear the two of you had been streaming for a while, judging by the fucked out blissful look on your face. Sweat glistened on your skin in the illuminating light of your bedroom.

You were on your hands and knees, your redheaded boyfriend on his knees behind you on a messed up bed, a pillow nearby that Bakugou assumed had been used to prop your hips up at one point. Your hair was wrapped tightly in his fist, using it for leverage as he hammered his cock into what Bakugou could only imagine was an absolutely dripping wet cunt. 

The sounds you made were downright sinful, your lips swollen from no doubt kissing and biting. The redhead grunted suddenly, jerking you up onto your knees so your back was pressed against his chest. Bakugou couldn’t resist reaching down to palm his aching cock, throbbing and painful from neglect. 

Your boyfriend groaned, glancing at the camera, “Everyone’s got a good view of your little cunt now, huh?” he growled moving his grip from your hair to your throat, “You like that, I can feel you squeezing me at the thought of all these people watching your pussy stretch on my cock. You’re stuffed so fuckin’ full you can barely stand it, isn’t that right?”

Bakugou couldn’t tear his eyes away from the scene. The4 dominance the redhead exuded rivaled his own and the way you so easily fell submissively to him was beautiful. There was so much trust in you ― knowing your boyfriend would take good care of you. Bakugou’s heart ached ever so slightly at the idea ― it was clear your relationship was a good one. It was something the pro hero would never hope to have himself.

You didn’t respond, your eyes rolling back in your head before closing. Your mouth was open, no sounds escaping due to the tight grip the redhead had on your throat. Your head rolled back to rest on his shoulder, legs spread to let him fuck your hole with everything he had. Your weight was braced completely on him, your partner dutifully supporting your body as you let him have his way.

With his free hand, he palmed your breast, pinching your nipple harshly to make you keen. Bakugou felt his cock throb at the sound. It was so whiny, pathetic. You were so completely submissive and at the mercy of your boyfriend. And you were loving every second of it. 

Bakugou couldn’t deny he enjoyed witnessing it himself.

Your cunt was stretched wide, the HD camera giving spectacular quality to the way your juices dripped down the length plunging into your body. It dripped off of his balls and down your thighs. So fucking messy. 

The redhead’s cock was big, something Bakugou himself could even feel envious of despite his own well-endowed size. Your cunt was tight, no doubt requiring a good amount of preparation to take him. He wondered if you enjoyed the stinging burn of pain when you took the cock. The blonde made a mental note to check out your part streams later.

“Gonna...gonna cum,” you gasped, warning your boyfriend. 

He scoffed, sounding annoyed, “Do it then. I don’t give a shit.”

“Please, can’t!” you sobbed, finally opening your eyes to look up at him. He wore a cocky grin, knowing your pleasure laid in his hands. 

“Why?” he teased, abandoning his hold on your breast to travel down the soft skin of your stomach, pausing right above where you needed him, “You need me to touch your little clit, hm? Is that what it is?” 

You nodded desperately, grinding your hips down every time he sunk his cock into you, hoping to get more than you were being given, “Please!”

“Alright,” he sighed, pressing a kiss against your temple. The gesture was oddly soft and intimate in comparison to the harsh, punishing pace of his cock, “You had a long day. I’ll be nice. You better thank me for making this greedy little cunt cum.”

Finally, his fingers reached your swollen clit. A couple practiced circles over the bud had you tumbling over the edge. Bakugou gripped his cock through the material of his boxers as he watched you tremble and moan as the redhead fucked you through the high. 

Letting out a sob at the overstimulation when your boyfriend still didn’t stop when you came down, you choked out, “Th-Thank you!”

“Good girl,” your boyfriend grinned, letting you fall back into your original position with your face buried in the blankets. The redhead tossed his head back, gripping your hips as he fucked into you, chasing his own orgasm. He laid a few harsh slaps against your ass, making you whimper, flinching at the impact but not running from it. Bakugou could hear the sharp sound of his hand making contact with your skin. Now that you had cum, the redhead let himself go. 

And he did. Your boyfriend let out a groan of pleasure, announcing his release. He didn’t pull out, pouring his hot cum into your overstimulated cunt.

Bakugou’s cock throbbed once, twice before he was spilling a load of hot cum into his boxers. The white cum oozed through the fibers as his thighs trembled.

When he came back to himself, he looked at the screen to find you had curled up on your side with a dreamy smile aimed at your boyfriend, Bakugou couldn’t help but smile at the screen at how cute you looked. He moved towards the camera with a grin, having already pulled out.

“Thanks for watchin’!” that was all he said before the screen went dark and bold white letters flashed over the screen that said ‘this stream has ended.’

Bakugou’s attention moved to the chat, checking to see what was being talked about. 

The comment that caught his eye was, “Eijirou and ______ are literally the power couple of porn.”

Bakugou sighed. Eijirou and ______. 

The names of his new favorite cam couple. 

[clairecrive]

Billy idea that I have no time to write myself loool: reader and Billy are friends with benefits. Reader is happy with the arrangement and knows Billy is sleeping with other women but she doesn't care. It's not serious with them. Billy however hadn't really thought about Reader sleeping with other people and he finds out. Maybe from friends (Frank, Curtis and Karen because hello AU) or maybe all of them are out at a bar and he sees her go home with someone else? But he gets suuuuper jealous about it and realises he wants more. I'll leave it up to you if Reader wants more too. Angsty jealous Billy though, am I right? Lmaooo (this is faulty-coding btw, hello 🖤)

"Commitment"

A/N: omg hi! I love your work so much I feel incredibly honoured that you chose me for this request! I hope you like it x This is also for this anon, I've combined the two requests since they were similar.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, slut-shaming, hurt-comfort, smut at the end

Word count: 3K +

Tags:@blackst0nes7077, @thefictionalgemini, @tarkanelima-blog

@pansysgirlfriend, @acciorudolphx @supernaturalcat7, @crazyclownchick (I don't know why it won't let me tag you)

To add yourself to my taglist, fill in this form.

NAVIGATION PAGE

"Hey, stranger." A familiar voice and then his familiar touch on your back before he sat in front of you.

"Hi, Billy."

"it's been a while," he mentioned casually while his eyes took you in.

It had been more than a while, actually. Last time you saw Billy had been over a week ago. Well, you hadn't really seen him, that was the problem.

Ever since you had started your "agreement" you'd drop by his office from time to time to surprise him. He had told you that he deeply enjoyed office sex while you had never had it. Needless to say, it soon became one of your favourite things.

And that was why that day, you were at Anvil. You hadn't told Billy that you were coming. It wouldn't have been a surprise then, would it? However, when you stepped in front of his door, just one touch away from opening it, you heard it.

Well, heard her actually.

It was Billy that ended up surprising you that day. You usually loved surprises but that one you would have gladly skipped.

Although it had taken you most of a week to come to this realisation, you realized that it was actually a good thing to happen. The thing you had with Billy wasn't labelled. It was fun but it wasn't serious. Despite the fact that you were friends and hang out with the same group, you had never committed to each other.

And you were honestly fine with it. You enjoyed your time with Billy, outside and under the sheets.

It had been months though and you hadn't wanted to acknowledge it but it wasn't enough anymore. Billy's role in your life was ambiguous. He was your friend sure, but one you'd have sex with. He wasn't your boyfriend but he was the one you'd spend the most of your time with, the one with whom you were intimate.

You wanted more, you realized. Enough with these half measures.

Billy will understand, you told yourself. He inwardly made it clear where he stands. Time to broaden your horizons.

And, as matter of fact, you had. It was true that the ocean is full of fish but you hadn't had a lot of luck with them before. Sure, Jake was nice. He was polite and nice. An overall good guy.

He was just lacking a... je ne sais quoi that made you unsure about it. But you were willing to give him a chance and so you kept going on dates with him.

Needless to say, you hadn't spoken to Billy since that impromptu visit to his office.

"Been busy," you offered him taking a sip of your beer. It was a lame excuse but you couldn't care less. Karen offered you some appetizers. You stared at them for a bit before shaking your head refusing them. Ignoring Karen's questioning look, you took another sip.

"Yeah, she's been busy alright." Frank's low chuckle came from the other end of the table.

"Meaning?" Billy asked, now curious about the implication seeing how your cheeks had suddenly turned red.

"She met someone," Karen chirped in, winking in your direction.

Mentally facepalming you, you swore them off. It wasn't the way you wanted Billy to find out. Not that you cared what he thought since he couldn't be bothered to be as transparent with you, but still. You hated being put on the spot.

"Has she now?" Billy's eyebrow arched and he gave you an amused look. But his jaw clenched and that gave him away.

"Not that it's any of your business. But yes, I have. His name's Jake, he's a nice guy." You explained briefly, ignoring the intensity of his stare.

"So you're that kind of person then." Leaning over the table, his voice took an edge he had never directed at you. "Ditching her friends as soon as she meets a guy?"

"You know that's not true." Narrowing your eyes at him you were almost offended by his institution if it wasn't for the fact that you knew that it was his bruised ego speaking.

"Tell that to my many unanswered calls on your phone."

"That's not on Jake," you scoffed taking a sip. His eyebrow arched while his hands gestured to you as if to say "do tell".

"Let's just say that I saw firsthand just how busy you keep yourself when I'm not around." You tried to keep the bitterness out of your voice, you really did. But without success.

Billy's lips pursed in thought. You had no doubt that he had an inkling about what you meant but he couldn't figure out to what exactly you were referring to.

"So is this what it is? You being petty because I've been with someone else?"

"That's me wanting more for myself and taking it."

"If you were that insatiable, y/n, you should have just told me."

"Stop making me sound like a slut, Billy. That is not what this is about."

"Isn't it? Because that's exactly what this looks like to me."

Pursing your lips, you refused to show him just how much he had hurt you. Nodding your head you decided that you'd had enough. You did not have to sit here and take his bullshit.

"You know, Billy. Slut-shaming isn't a good look on you." Waving to your friends, you quickly told them that you had to go. An emergency you said. But they knew better, their eyes fixed on Billy as he watched you walk out of the bar. Hands tightening around the bottle of beer he had ordered, he stood up once you disappeared amongst the crowd.

Without bothering to explain himself to the group, he simply followed you outside.

"Y/n." He called your name once he saw that you were already a bit far from the bar. In a couple of quick strides, Billy had gotten to you since you had slowed down.

"Go away, Billy." you didn't bother to look at him.

"Wait, wait," he said gently taking hold of your arm to get you to stop. And you did but stared at his hand on you until he dropped it and took a step back. "Look I'm sorry, I was an asshole." he apologised.

You only nodded to show him that you understood him but didn't offer any words to assure him that you forgave him.

"And I'm sorry you had to find out about Madani that way." He added hoping to make things right between you.

"Don't worry, it was actually an awakening for me." You added briefly looking at him. Tone harsh and unapologetic. You were still too mad at him to care about being considerate of your voice.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it made me realize that this," you gestured between the two of you, "was not working out for me."

"Oh really?" now the word had lost every tint of disbelief it had before. It was more like he was challenging you. Like he didn't quite believe you.

"Yes." you stood your ground pushing your shoulders back, "I figured out that I want more. And I know that I'm not going to get that from you."

"It was good while it lasted though," you called over your shoulders as you turned, ready to get the hell away from him. But the words he said though, made you halt on your feet.

"Who said you're not going to get that with me?"

"That would require feeling something for me other than lust, Billy." you snicked not fully turning around to face him, just your head.

"Who says I don't?"

"Madani, maybe?"

"She doesn't mean anything, y/n." He scoffed rolling his eyes.

"Of course you'd say something like this, Billy. Doesn't help though." As if him admitting to having meaningless sex with other women could help his case. Men. Fully done with this conversation you gave him one last look before turning away again.

"I know why you didn't eat those appetizers before." Again, after a few steps, his voice made you stop. This time, the implication of what he meant, sat heavily on your shoulders making you tense. Still, you didn't turn around.

That didn't deter him though.

"I know that you love them but they remind you of your grandfather. He used to make sure there would always be some of those at home whenever you went to visit him. And I know you haven't eaten them since-"

He stopped when your head whipping to him, eyes glaring.

He was right. You knew it, he knew it. But him strumentalising your beloved grandfather's death to get through to you? That was low, even for Billy.

Not only it called for you to acknowledge out loud that your grandfather wasn't there anymore but it also surprised you because you didn't think anyone would notice something so small.

"What are you saying, Billy?" Eyes glossy, like everything someone mentioned him, you tried your best to not let your voice waver.

"What I'm saying is that I care about you, y/n. I care enough to notice things. The tiniest details that you don't even know are there. Like that every time you're reading and something bad happens, you press your hand on your chest over your heart, as if you wanted to stop the pain from coming or something. Or that you always cook whenever you miss your family even if you never say it out loud. Or-"

"I get it Billy." you raised a hand to stop him. "You're observant. I knew that. That's basically what you do for a living. Not counting that you're a fucking sniper."

"Maybe," he conceded slowly taking a step in your direction, "I notice things, that's true. That doesn't mean that I store them in my mind, though."

"I care about you, y/n. A great deal. Enough to notice all the little things that make you you and enough to memorize them."

"I don't know if I can believe you, Billy. If you cared you wouldn't be going around sleeping with other women. And I know-" you added when you saw his mouth open to protest- " I know that technically we weren't together but still Billy. A technicality is not going to earn you my trust." Shrugging your shoulders you opted for being honest with him. You had never lied to him and you certainly weren't going to start now. Billy had never lied to you either, not that you were aware. And even if this thought should have reassured you, you were still hesitant about believing him.

"Then give me a chance to do so. Let me prove to you just how much I care about you and how little I care about everything else." He insisted, taking another step and then another until he was in front of you. Hands on your jaw, he delicately craned your neck so that your eyes could meet.

The height difference had always been a reason for jokes among you. It was no secret that Billy had a slight size kink, at least not to you, and so more often than not he'd use that.

Thumb slowly caressing your jaw, his eyes flickered between yours. They were full of hope, of promises but there was also a lot of vulnerability. Billy was not the type to be so forthcoming about his feelings. The fact that he had been with you, on a side street nonetheless, was a demonstration on its own.

Sighing, you knew you needed to decide. Yes, hearing Billy having sex with another woman had hurt you but you were not together. While that didn't make it hurt any less, it made the situation slightly less grave. He hadn't cheated on you, not really. You hadn't told him you wanted more. Hell, before that you didn't even know that you wanted more.

And now that you knew, now that he knew as well, here he was promising it to you. He wanted to give you exactly what you wanted. So could you really say no to him?

Of course not.

"Alright."

"Yeah?" a big smile grew on his face, his eyes twinkling in joy.

"Yeah, I'm going to give you a chance. Only one, Billy. So you better not mess this up." Poking his chest with a finger you warned him that this time around, things were going to be different.

"You're not going to regret that, babe." His eyes held a solemn promise. Just briefly though because soon, they were back to their usual mischief. Billy leaned to you, his lips meeting yours in a small kiss.

At first.

He kissed you soundly, his mouth perfectly on yours, building his tempo slowly. Then, you felt his tongue on your lower lip and you knew that things were about to escalate quickly.

Not that you minded of course, but it was not appropriate to do what you had in mind in the middle of the street.

"Billy," you moaned slightly leaning back to warn him that you couldn't get too carried away.

"Call that Jim guy," his mouth peppered small kisses along your jaw, "tell him that it's over. That he never stood a chance," he moved down on your neck.

"Yes."

"Let's go home so that I can show you how much more I can give you."His mouth had trailed back up and stopped so that it was hovering over your ear. His voice was low and breathy and husky and fuck it sent a wave of pleasure right in between your legs.

------

No sooner had you stepped over your threshold than Billy's hands were on you. The door barely closed, he pushed you against it. His hands cradled your face, effectively keeping you holding you in place while his mouth ravished you.

You gladly let him do as he pleased. Mouth opening to welcome his tongue while your hands gripped his jacket to keep you steady.

"Billy," you whimpered his name as his lips left yours. You tried to follow them by getting on your tiptoes but he didn't let you. Chuckling, he gave you another small kiss.

"Yes. Remember that it's me that it's making you feel this good. Me. Not Jim or whatever his name is, not anyone else. Me." He growled on your lips while one of his hands gripped the hair at the nape of your neck making you gasp.

Staring at his glowing dark pits you couldn't do anything other than nodding feverishly. You were at his mercy. Completely. And Billy knew that and it did nothing but please him to no end.

You'd always enjoyed whenever Billy was rough with you but him being jealous and kinda possessive too? Game changer.

Smirking at your reaction, his hands moved lower on your body until they hatched behind your knees pulling you up. Biting your lower lip, he swallowed your whimper for the friction once you wrapped your legs around his waist.

Billy didn't waste any more time, in quick long strides he was in your bedroom and threw you on the bed. You'd almost giggled when you bounced on it if it wasn't for the savage look in Billy's eyes.

Fuck, he looked so sexy. A sin.

For a moment, he just stared at you laid there waiting for him. A hand quickly wiped his face before he unbuckled his pants. Now it was your turn to stare at him. More like ogle but you knew he didn't mind.

Shedding his pants, he crawled over you until his face levelled yours.

"I'm going to give you exactly what you want. And then some more." He promised, nipping your earlobe. "You're never going to feel the need to look for other guys."

"There's no one else I'd rather be with, Billy."

Your hands trailed over his still clothed back before tangling his always perfectly styled hair. "Only you." You whispered in his ear.

If it wasn't for your hand on his back, you would have missed him tensing. "Say it again," he demanded, his head still in the crook of your neck.

"You're the only one I want, Billy." You repeated knowing fully well how he struggled with accepting love and affection. This meant to him just as much as it did to you. He was giving you the promise of commitment but so were you. And despite the fact that you had already been loyal to him, you knew how important it was for him to hear the words.

"There's no one else for me either, y/n. Never was, never will be." He raised his head to say this. It was a confirmation, yes, but it also felt so much more coming from him.

He had been telling you how much he cared about you since you left the bar but somehow, him saying it again now held more meaning.

"You promise?"

You felt childish and it was probably pathetic of you to ask him again. But this was you being vulnerable, letting him know that you needed him. And you trusted Billy.

"You're mine." He said instead. One of his hands coming to cradle the back of your head while the other closed around your right breast.

"And I'm yours."

And here it was, the promise, the reassurance you needed. His lips met yours in a bruising kiss. It was wet and more teeth and tongue than anything but it was passionate. You were claiming each other.

Not separating your lips, he used his hands to get rid of your clothes. While he unbuckled your pants, you took his shirt off. Him doing the same with yours while you pushed his brief down on his legs.

Once you were completely naked, Billy crawled back over you. His hands resting at the sides of your head. He was everywhere. You could feel him between your legs, your arms wrapped around his back, your vision field occupied by his beautiful face.

He was everywhere, he was everything.

"And now, I'm going to leave no room for doubt in your mind anymore." He whispered on your lips, his cock rubbing over your slit teasing you about what was to come.

You had asked him for a commitment and fuck if he didn't commit to it. All night long.

[thejustmaiden]

So out of nowhere I was tagged and quoted by a SR shipper for a blog of mine posted in August of last year. Talk about throwback but, hey, gotta appreciate that level of snooping. 😉

Back in the day I actually used to encourage discourse amongst Inuyasha fans- both shippers and antis alike- but I've since realized that it's a lost cause. But for you, @feministmetalgreymon , I'll grant this exception. Just 'cause it's been a while so why the hell not. haha

I want to assure you, however, that nothing you say will ever convince me that Sesshomaru and Rin are meant to be together romantically or that the story intended it so. Nor will you find any validation here. You can ship them for all I care, but please for all that is good and holy while I have your attention try- I mean really try- to understand why it is so many of us Inuyasha fans are so against this pairing in the first place (newsflash: it's not about ship wars), and why we believe a romance between the two of them is completely and utterly out of character.

For those of you interested in reading this, the blog of mine in question that the above shipper mentions in their counter-argument is here for reference. It's titled "Jaken = Rin's Dad?" I'm going to try and keep this short, but I'm also making no such promises. After all, I'm not exactly known for my brevity. haha Now let's get crackin'!

Like you, feministmetalgreymon, did for your recent blog here where you took screenshots of mine to address certain parts, I will be doing the same and dissecting yours accordingly.

[Snippet 1]

I worked with kids for many years as a teacher, and many people in my family have too or still do. Two of them happen to be just over 5 feet which is quite short for the average adult woman living here. I've also worked alongside many a women of short stature, and never did I hear any of them complaining of issues with their students having difficulty differentiating them from their own peers just because they were short as well. I'm sorry but that's just ridiculous. Kids are quite smart and pick up on a lot more than you seem to give them credit for. Height is not the only characteristic they look at to determine who's an adult and who's not, and it's foolish to suggest otherwise. So unless you're a babysitter who's still in their teens and/or who has very childlike features or behavior then I'm afraid what you're getting at is total hogwash. This is just another example of how you shippers offer nothing of real substance to your reasoning, it's only ever cherry-picking or strawmanning from you guys. Stop deflecting from the real issues please, because this certainly isn't one and only winds up being a complete waste of time for all parties involved.

[Snippet 2]

Okay, calm down now. I wasn't insinuating that relationships between parents and children can't change over time in terms of how they get along. Of course that's possible, as all families experience their fair share of estrangement and abuse. What I was speaking about was in reference to the overall dynamic between the two. Because a bad mother or father can still be viewed as a parental figure to their child even if say they're not in said child's life anymore. Since Sesshomaru and Rin share a healthy bond- and just a friendly reminder that in my blog I even said that he doesn't have to necessarily be labeled her father but that a romantic relationship later would still be inappropriate- I didn't deem it necessary to address what you brought up. Plus, it kinda, umm, misses the point?? Please, let's stay on topic. And it's not captured in the screenshot, but stop acting like there isn't a small part of them that idolizes their parents at some point during childhood. Just like you mention later on how it's normal for kids to have innocent crushes on adults that they eventually grow out of? Well, guess what, the same concept applies here. Kids eventually learn that their parents are far from perfect and make mistakes too. Rin is so damn young in the OG series though that we never even get to see her reach that maturity level.

[Snippet 3]

LOL! Alright, okay, so the "unbreakable bond" bit you're mentioning was actually me quoting you sessrinners. Did you not catch that? I literally spelled it out. *sigh* The whole point I was making is that shippers like yourself make hypocritical and contradictory statements all.the.goddamn.time. One moment you guys claim that Sesshomaru and Rin were essentially strangers and meant very little to each other, only to say in the same breath a few seconds later that they were destined to be together and their bond is like no other. I agree, their bond is special, but why must that mean they're going to fall in love?

That is the root of the matter here. Too many animes/mangas have romanticized this older adult man & young girl growing up falling in love trope that it's become way too normalized and widely accepted across the world- and yes, in some cultures more than others. Sadly, you lack the awareness to recognize how this all works. You know how we know that? When we see that you shippers are so desensitized to sexualized images of girls in the media that you share posts like this one below which *subtly* imply a future romance although one half of that pairing is still just a child in the pic and then try and pass it off as cute. That's like super fucking problematic and it scares me that you can't see that (or deny you do). 🤢

After all that's said and done, Sesshomaru leaving Rin in the village with Kaede is to me the strongest indicator more than pretty much anything else he's done for Rin that proves he is her adoptive father. It's so funny to me how you somehow see the exact opposite though. 🤔 What I think is happening is that you got yourself on some squeaky clean ass shipper goggles fresh out of your little echo chamber. Because I hate to tell you, but what you're fantasizing is what you want to see and not what's actually there on screen or was written into the story. I'm strictly talking about Inuyasha and the manga of course. [For the TL; DR version skip to the last paragraph.]

Parents looking after their kids is what parents are supposed to do. A good parent will do anything to keep their child safe and ensure they are cared for, so what he did for her by leaving her there was in her best interests clearly. Besides, as a babysitter, you more than most people should understand that parents aren't always able to be there for their kids so sometimes others gotta step in to help. Haven't you heard of the saying, "it takes a village to raise a child?" Which in Rin's case is literally true! 😂 Sometimes kids are even sent off to stay with grandparents and that's who raises them instead. Or maybe they have to temporarily live with an aunt or uncle because their single parent's job requires they work out of town 4-5 days of the week so they're hardly home. But that doesn't mean that the parents care or love their kids any less, and it's foolish to assume that Sesshomaru must have thought very little of Rin simply due to the fact that he made the decision to leave her in the village. Come on, y'all are acting like he abandoned her there!!

It's just given the circumstances Sesshomaru finally came to learn that Rin traveling with him was no longer safe. I also like to think it's because he wished for her to live a more normal life and to learn how to fully trust humans again. Plus, continuing to travel with him as young as she was would have proven dangerous and unwise. Now for you to know all this and still manage to turn his past actions towards her while she was just a child into a romantic gesture is what boggles my mind. Regardless of how you look at it, from my perspective or your own, Sesshomaru is in the wrong. Either he's a father figure who impregnates his daughter at the young age of approximately 14. OR he's this man she used to travel with who maybe isn't a father to her but who nonetheless basically rapes her since kids her age can't consent to sex with an adult. Idk about you but it sounds to me like nobody here wins with either scenario we're given. In other words, you should be just as mad as we are. If only one side didn't choose to forsake their morals they know we both have in common for the sake of a ship. Welp. 🤷‍♀️

I agree, incest is disgusting but that's not the only problem we have with this pairing. A romantic bond forming between Sesshomaru and Rin would also constitute as grooming.

You realize that over the years he visited her in the village that he brought her gifts too and essentially watched her grow up right before his very eyes, right? I mean, I know you do, but I really shouldn't have to explain further why pursuing a romantic/sexual relationship with each other is plain and simple wrong. And before you say it's not because he didn't have any malintent, please understand that considering their history and power dynamic up to then that yes this is still considered grooming even if Rin supposedly "wanted it" or "made the first move." Whether you consider him her father or not, as the adult who took on a role resembling that of a caretaker in her early life- a critical developmental time for a child- Sesshomaru is obligated to turn down any advances by Rin and most definitely should not initiate any himself. As the first close adult figure she's had in her life since her parents died, it's unfathomable to imagine how Sesshomaru could go through with taking advantage of this young girl who was under his care and supervision since they met. To think he could be capable of betraying that trust sickens me to the core.

This. Now THIS is how a parent/guardian or a similar adult caretaker (babysitter, teacher, etc.) talks to a child. And, in turn, this is how some young children talk to adults. You'd be insane and delusional to deny it! We see it in our everyday lives, do we not? From where else do you think our stories draw most of their inspiration? Yes, obviously these fictional universes have aspects of fantasy that don't exist in the real world, but so how then do you suppose we're able to relate to them? The reason for that being is because these stories are written by people for people, so naturally there are going to be real life aspects embedded throughout. Sure, a little escapism doesn't hurt as we don't need to take everything so seriously, but ultimately we all need to recognize that the messages in the stories we tell matter. Most stories possess a combination of both light and dark themes, but when it specifically comes to the latter we gotta be careful with how we tackle this in children's media since kids are far more impressionable.

So if at the center of a story we have two of the main protagonists whose mom is basically their same age and to top it off she knew their dad when she was just a girl and who just so happened to help raise her, wouldn't you say that's beyond fucked up or at the very least so fucking weird? Like why would we think it's even remotely okay for our children to watch this garbage?? Really think about it. Try and be objective for once and think about how it would sound explaining this storyline to an outsider who's never watched IY or HNY. Well, antis have tried this before many times and we always get the same reaction: Ewww!

Like I said earlier, if you wanna ship it then fine, but 1) please stop seeking our approval or trying to change our minds - your ship wish came true didn't it, so why do you need us to validate it? 2) even though it's not canon, respect that we don't support this sequel portraying pedophilia in a positive light. It's harmful af to not only allow but glorify the continuation of sexualized images of young girls everywhere. And I shouldn't have to say this, but just because this trope is popular as you say does not make it right. Lolicon themes in the media have been an issue forever and it needs to stop. Yes, even some people in Japan or "the East" would agree. Shocker!

We're pissed off and rightfully so because Yashahime's TV rating is 14, not to mention it airs at the prime time kids in Japan watch TV after getting home from school. That's Towa and Setsuna's age, true, but if Rin being the mom when she's like only a year older than them (please don't argue w/ me about the math- antis have so far been right every time with it) is straight-up disgusting and not something we should be supporting or endorsing. Rin's a whole ass child!! Please don't start with the "but times were different then so her having kids at 15 is acceptable" argument either, because we've already debunked that and every other single excuse you guys throw at us. Besides, how or why would you expect young viewers to know these historical "facts" anyway, especially if as you suggest fiction doesn't affect reality so what does it matter? Yet here we are, arguing over a fictional show in real life almost a year and a half into the "Sesshomaru fucks?" sequel being announced. My ass, your ass, hell all our asses fiction doesn't affect reality!

Look, I do apologize if the tone of this blog came off as snippy or condescending at times. I do not wish you any ill will, it's just I'm not really sure what you expected to get out of all this besides maybe getting on my nerves perhaps. haha A lot of you shippers have been desperately scrambling to interact with us, lurking in our tags, jumping onto our posts screaming canon and getting so defensive even though you sought us out first. We've been sticking to our tags, so how about you stay in your lane too. By the way since we're on the topic, have you seen Twitter or Reddit?! SR shippers there are the actual worst and many Inuyasha fans (not just antis) have complained of not feeling welcomed to engage in fandom spaces anymore. Shippers swarm them and scare them off simply because fans don't like your ship and refuse to accept it. It's pathetic, really. No one should ever be bullied or harassed just because they don't like something you might. We're all fans of Inuyasha, aren't we? So let's act like it. Yashahime on the other hand, you guys are welcome to that pungent heap of trash. Fans have a right to criticize it too, but if you like it then good for you, so keep on liking it and don't mind us.

I'm almost done, but real quick back to Jaken! Let's not forget about how the official Yashahime website- which came out after my blog, mind you- described Jaken. This translation isn't the best one available but it's the only version a fellow anti friend could track down. They do recall a better one done by a native Japanese speaker who was also an anti, and that member confirmed that Jaken is indeed called Rin's babysitter. So you see, I was right in my interpretation. In the original post I did compare Jaken to a brother, but after talking to others (some comments can be found under said post) I did acknowledge that he's more of a reluctant babysitter who's not related. And if he's not at least a brother to Rin, then he's definitely not her father.

At the end of the day, the creator Rumiko Takahashi has the final word. Which is guess what? Hogosha. 💖 Probably should've just started out with that and saved us all the trouble, huh? Good day/night to you.

Papamaru bids you adieu now. 🤞

[collapse-and-comfort]

Love your blog! Can I ask for a sick fic with some comfort? The whumpee ignoring symptoms and pushing on until they collapse. So the caretaker carries them to bed, and looks after the whumpee the next few days. The whumpee is weak and scared because they’ve never been that badly sick. But they don’t want to go to hospital (maybe bad experiences before).

🌡🤒🌡Thank you so much!!! Sorry this took so long. It just kind of kept going and ended up being a little over 4K words! I hope you enjoy! (I'm going to tag @lurkingwhump because I know you were interested in a story like this! I'd also be remiss if I didn't mention @i-write-whump because her prompts were constantly on my mind while I was writing this.) 🌡🤒🌡

Whumpee watched their interviewee’s retreating back. They’d been less a lead and more an aggravation. The beat of an eighties pop song made their headache (and their mood) worse and they closed their eyes and pinched the bridge of their nose.

“You good?”

“Yeah,” Whumpee said as they tapped a thumb on the table and tried to ignore the growing ache in their throat. “Let’s go.”

They walked back to Whumpee’s apartment to review information. It amounted to tirespinning and tail chasing. The longer the evening went, the more difficult it became for Whumpee to concentrate. They tossed a file onto their coffee table with the rest of the information they were pouring over. They leaned back on their couch and closed their eyes. No matter how they tried to will their headache away, it continued to compound itself. An ache and a chill were working their way into Whumpee’s body. They didn’t need to look at Caretaker to know they were watching them with questions on their tongue and concern in their eyes.

“Getting late,” Caretaker said.

“Late” was several hours ago.

“Mmhhm,” Whumpee said without opening their eyes. They weren’t taking the bait. “You’d better get going. We’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

“Right,” Caretaker said with a dubious quirk in their brow. They left, but they gave Whumpee ample time  to reconsider, to tell them they needed a break, or help. Or something.

Whumpee sat on their couch in silence as the chill in their body intensified. They refused to believe they were getting sick. Allergies, exhaustion. Had to be. They couldn’t even remember the last time they were ill. Whumpee groaned as they heaved themself up. The room spun and they closed their eyes until the dizziness passed. A string of expletives played in their head as they found their way down the hall and into the restroom.

They dry swallowed some pills that had likely exceeded their expiration date and they avoided catching sight of the flushed, hollow-eyed specter they would see if they looked in the mirror.

They didn’t bother struggling out of their clothes before curling up beneath their covers and dropping into a fitful sleep.

Whumpee woke to someone banging - no, just insistent, undemanding knocking the way their partner always did - on their door. They pawed at their nightstand in search of their phone, but it was nowhere to be found. They peeled their eyes open and wondered how long Caretaker had been knocking. They disentangled themself from their covers and slowly rolled their way off the mattress.

Too hot, they thought as they willed themself, one foot after the other, to make the distance from their room to their door.

When they opened up, Caretaker stepped in with a coffee in each hand. Their affable expression faltered when they looked at Whumpee. If Caretaker noticed Whumpee was wearing the same clothes they’d been dressed in the previous evening - and of course they did - they didn’t mention it.

“Shit,” Caretaker said as they handed Whumpee a cup. “Guess I should have brought you tea instead, huh?”

“As long as it had sugar in it,” Whumpee said before clearing their throat and grimacing at the sensation and the way their voice rasped. “Just give me a minute.”

---

“We can pass this off,” Caretaker suggested by mid-morning. They could. They knew several of their teammates were dying to sink their teeth into this case and there was no harm in letting them.

They watched as Whumpee rested their head against the passenger side window. Whumpee didn’t respond, but Caretaker knew what they would say. They couldn’t put this on hold; they had to finish it. Besides, I’m fine.

“Right,” Caretaker said. They felt as though that one, marginally passive aggressive word, was becoming their personal mantra. They couldn’t make Whumpee do something they didn’t want to do, and while they’d never seen Whumpee with so much as a sniffle, they knew Whumpee would run themself into the ground regardless of whether or not they had a job to do.

God forbid you take care of yourself, Caretaker thought.

The day wore on like that. Caretaker doubted the small measures Whumpee was taking to make themself less miserable - resting or rubbing their eyes, pulling their coat tighter around themself - were cries for help. Each time they asked Whumpee if they were okay, they were rewarded with a glare or a surly shrug.

The evening found them back in Whumpee’s apartment. Caretaker had grown genuinely worried about Whumpee. They watched as Whumpee stared at the same paper they’d been holding for the past ten minutes. They shut their eyes and slouched forward in their chair before closing their eyes. Caretaker frowned at the way Whumpee’s jaws were clenched, the way their shoulders were bunched, and the way their face was flushed. Whumpee’s clothes looked rumpled and uncomfortable. Not exactly surprising since they were the same ones they’d been wearing the previous day.

“You’re half asleep, Whumpee. Why don’t you at least change into some fresh clothing?”

They expected a brusque reply, but Whumpee put down the paper and nodded without looking at Caretaker. That set off warning bells.

Whumpee used the coffee table to steady themself as they rose and Caretaker reached out to help when they saw how badly Whumpee’s arms were shaking.

“I’m fine,” Whumpee muttered as they stood to their full height.

“Bullshit,” Caretaker said as they stood too. They’d spent the entire day watching Whumpee suffer needlessly and they’d had enough. “You can’t keep pushing yourself.”

Caretaker waited for Whumpee to tell them how they’d be better in the morning, or they’re just tired, or...

Whumpee swayed on their feet and their eyes rolled back before their knees buckled and dropped to the floor with jarring force. Caretaker swore as they quickly closed the distance between them and caught Whumpee’s upper body before they could fall the rest of the way. Whumpee let out a distant-sounding moan as their forehead rolled on Caretaker’s shoulder. As Caretaker held Whumpee’s chest against their own, they were shocked at the heat rolling off of Whumpee.

How the hell did Whumpee let themself get this bad?!

Caretaker didn’t berate Whumpee for neglecting themself. Rather, they gathered Whumpee in their arms. There was a flash of confusion, then annoyance on Whumpee’s face. Caretaker pretended they didn’t see the latter emotion.

“Just gonna get you to bed,” they said.

Then possibly to the hospital, they added in their head.

Whumpee didn’t put up a fight as Caretaker carried them back the hall and to their room. Caretaker angled themself so as not to run Whumpee’s head into a wall or door frame. They were unsurprised to find that Whumpee had left their covers a tangled mess. They set Whumpee down and helped them into a seated position while they straightened the covers as best they could. Caretaker circled back around to where Whumpee sat and all the aggravation they’d felt at Whumpee for not taking better care of themself fled them completely.

Whumpee’s arms hung at their sides, their mouth was part way open and their eyes were glassy. Without worrying about Whumpee’s sensibilities, Caretaker put their palm on Whumpee’s forehead.

“You’re burning up, Whumpee,” they said. That Whumpee was running a fever was far from surprising, but the sickly heat that was coming off of them was no less worrying to feel. “Jesus, how long have you been sick?”

“Few days,” Whumpee said. They looked up at Caretaker with wounded pride and they tried to pull away when Caretaker cupped their neck with their hands.

“Sshh,” Caretaker said as they gently pressed their fingers against Whumpee’s throat. They winced at how swollen Whumpee’s glands felt beneath their fingertips.

They frowned and idly swept a damp lock of hair from Whumpee’s forehead and decided what to do.

“Okay,” they said. “Is there anything we need to bring with us to the hospital?”

Whatever indignation and bravado were left in Whumpee disappeared. Whumpee’s eyes went a little wider and they shrank back from Caretaker as they drew in several sharp breaths as they shook their head.

“No. No hospitals.”

“Whumpee, you passed out and you’re running a high fever. I really-”

“No!”

Whumpee tried to stand, but Caretaker stopped them before they could land on the floor again. Caretaker put one hand on Whumpee’s shoulder and held onto one of Whumpee’s arms, trying to hold them as steadily and as gently as possible.

“Woah, woah, woah,” Caretaker said. They kept their voice low as Whumpee landed back on the bed and began to struggle. “Easy, Whumpee. Hey, it’s okay. Calm down. It’s okay. Hey, hey, look at me.”

Whumpee’s energy flagged and finally, their wary, fever-bright eyes found Caretaker’s.

“That’s it, Whumpee.”

Caretaker knew Whumpee had a thing about hospitals, but they never would have guessed it was this bad. Had their fever amplified that fear, or had it simply laid it bare?

“No hospitals.”

Caretaker sighed and nodded. It wasn’t going to do either of them any good to drag Whumpee, half out of their mind with a fever, into an emergency room. Maybe they could talk Whumpee into it if it came to that. Or maybe they’d call an ambulance. Caretaker let go of Whumpee’s arm and rubbed their shoulder. Their heart went out to Whumpee when they felt their breathing hitch beneath their palm.

“Okay,” Caretaker conceded. “No hospitals. But we have to get your temperature down. Where do you keep your thermometer?

“I’ve never been this sick before,” Whumpee said. Their voice was thick and apologetic as they dropped their gaze.

No thermometer, then, Caretaker concluded as they alternated between rubbing and patting Whumpee’s shoulder.

“Okay, what about some Tylenol?”

Whumpee paused and thought about it.

“Above the bathroom sink.”

Caretaker located the bottle. Empty. They sighed, discarded it, and moved to the kitchen. They rummaged through Whumpee’s fridge, but settled on taking them a glass of water. Whumpee sat where they left them.

“I want you to drink some of this,” they said as they pressed the glass into Whumpee’s hands. “I’m going to go pick up a few things, okay?”

Whumpee looked from the glass and back up to Caretaker. They nodded and took several sips of water before setting the glass on their nightstand. Caretaker took note of the way they winced each time they swallowed.

““Do you think you’d be more comfortable in different clothing?”

Whumpee gave them a tired mmhmm and tried to lift themself again.

“I got it,” Caretaker said as they put up a staying hand. “Let me help.”

Whumpee directed them to the bottom drawer of their dresser. Caretaker selected a pair of black athletic shorts and an overly large gray tee shirt. Whumpee didn’t protest when Caretaker helped them out of their old clothes and into the new ones. Whatever energy Whumpee had was depleted and they allowed themself to be helped down to the mattress without complaint. They used one arm to unevenly pull their covers back over themself. Caretaker refrained from helping them pull the covers more completely over them.

They didn’t want to leave Whumpee like this for any amount of time, but if they were going to help them, they needed to. Caretaker fetched Whumpee’s cell phone from the living room and put it on the nightstand next to the water.

“I’ll be back soon, but if you need anything, just call.”

All told, it took them about a half an hour for them to visit a drug store and a convenience store - both within walking distance - to gather what they needed and return. They organized everything on the counter, then took the immediate essentials to Whumpee’s room.

Whumpee was asleep beneath their covers and the water sat, untouched, on the nightstand. Caretaker regretted that they needed to wake them up. They put a hand on Whumpee’s forehead - still far too warm - then patted their cheek.

“Hey, Whumpee,” they said. “I need you to wake up for a minute, okay?”

“Mmm?” Whumpee mumbled as they looked up at Caretaker with bleary, half-lidded eyes.

“Just gonna get your temperature,” they said as they held up the oral thermometer they’d bought.

Whumpee frowned.

“It’s clean,” Caretaker said, though they doubted that was Whumpee’s objection. They leaned down and put the tip of the thermometer to Whumpee’s lips. “C’mon.”

Thankfully, Whumpee did as they were asked.

“Keep it under your tongue,” Caretaker told them, letting memories of their mother be their guide.

Whumpee kept their eyes closed while the thermometer worked, but they opened them again when the beepbeepbeep sounded. They reached for the offending instrument, but Caretaker halted them.

“Just leave it for a sec,” they said. Part of them didn’t want to see the reading, didn’t want the numbers to force their hand with Whumpee’s care.

They removed the thermometer and turned it so they could see the segmented, digital numbers.

“One-oh-three point nine,” Caretaker said, frowning at the thermometer as though it were to blame.

Not great, Caretaker thought, though they knew it could be worse. They tried to remember if they’d seen Whumpee eat anything the past couple of days. They picked up the new bottle of Tylenol, but paused when they saw Whumpee’s face. Whumpee’s jaw clenched as they clumsily wiped a tear away, They crouched down at Whumpee’s side - the pills rattled as they did so - and they put a hand on Whumpee’s arm.

Caretaker cursed themself for not stepping in earlier, for not seeing just how sick Whumpee was, for not making Whumpee take better care of themself. The latter was easier said than done, of course, but now it seemed the confirmation that they were sick was too much for Whumpee to bear.

“Okay,” they said, speaking more gently than they could ever remember speaking to Whumpee. Overt tenderness, or any other sort of tenderness for that matter, had never been a part of their dynamic. Whumpee let themself sniffle and that led to a coughing fit. Caretaker seated themself on the mattress next to Whumpee and patted their back as they waited for the coughing to pass. “It’s okay. I know this sucks. We’ve gotta work on getting your temp down, though, so I want you to take these pills.”

Caretaker helped them lean up and take the pills.

“You need to drink more, too,” Caretaker said, careful not to sound like they were scolding them. They wondered how much longer Whumpee would have let themself go without some sort of aid. A niggling thought worked its way into Caretaker’s mind. There was the very real possibility Whumpee had never had anyone to care for them in this way.

Caretaker gave Whumpee’s forearm a squeeze and then stood.

“Be right back,” they said.

They returned with a cool, damp washcloth. Caretaker swept Whumpee’s hair back and put the cloth on their forehead.

“Cold,” they murmured without opening their eyes.

“I know,” Caretaker said as they sat down on the edge of the bed. “Just don’t want your brain to get cooked.”

Whumpee hummed in agreement and laid still. Their breathing evened out and Caretaker removed the cloth when it had taken on as much of Whumpee’s body heat as it could. Whumpee didn’t stir while Caretaker repeated the process several times.

Once they were sure Whumpee was resting soundly enough, Caretaker went about the business turning their case over to other, equally competent hands. They didn’t look forward to telling Whumpee, but they’d cross that bridge when they had to.

When Caretaker returned to  Whumpee’s room, Whumpee was curled on their side. Their mouth was open and their breathing was deep. Caretaker risked placing the back of their hand on Whumpee’s forehead. Still warm, but it was better.

All was quiet until just after one in the morning. Whumpee stirred and Caretaker sat upright in the recliner in the corner of the room. Whumpee rolled onto their back and pawed at the covers.

“Hey,” Caretaker said as they walked over to the side of the bed. They put a hand on Whumpee’s shoulder and shook it a little bit. “You good, Whumpee?”

Whumpee’s eyes slid open and settled on Caretaker. It took a moment, but Caretaker could see the memory of the evening return to them.

“Too warm,” they rasped.

“Fever’s breaking,” Caretaker said with a nod as they helped Whumpee off with the covers. To Whumpee’s chagrin, Caretaker got their temp again, though that time it was a much more agreeable ninety-nine point eight.

“Don’t have to stay,” Whumpee mumbled as they rubbed a hand over their face.

Yes I do, Caretaker thought.

“It’s no problem,” they said with a shrug. “Besides, I know your WiFi password. Can I get you anything?”

Whumpee swallowed and grimaced as though there was a bad taste in their mouth.

“Drink?”

Caretaker brought them ginger ale, more pills and chapstick. Whumpee was quick to fall back to sleep after that.

Whumpee’s fever spiked again in the morning, though it was nowhere near as harrowing. What worried Caretaker was how pliant Whumpee had become. Just more evidence of how run down they’d let themself get.

After they took a shower, Whumpee set up camp in the living room and Caretaker took the opportunity to change the bedclothes. It was a small thing, but sometimes those provided the most comfort. Caretaker knew they were well on their way to becoming a mother hen, but they couldn’t quite bring themself to care.

Caretaker waited for the inevitable questions about work, but they never came. Caretaker wondered if Whumpee already knew what they’d done. The day wore on and Whumpee alternated between dozing and trying to watch whatever brainless actioner Caretaker opted to play. Their blanket was on. Their blanket was off.

Caretaker intermittently cleared away tissues when they began to accumulate around Whumpee. Caretaker plied them with a steady stream of drinks (Tea with honey seemed most effective.), and in the early evening, despite their declaration that they weren’t hungry, Whumpee managed to eat some soup. Caretaker extended a hand to take the dishes away when Whumpee was done. Whumpee started to say something, but their words fell off and they looked down at their lap when Caretaker took the dishes from them.

Caretaker wanted to reassure them, but they knew whatever they said in that moment would sound useless and patronizing to Whumpee. Maybe the best thing they could do was give Whumpee some alone time. At least for as long as it took Caretaker to pick up some things from their own place.

When Caretaker got back Whumpee was ready for bed. Caretaker regarded them. Their cheeks were flushed again and their eyes were glassy. Caretaker asked them the same questions they’d been asking them all day. How’s your throat? You okay? Do you need anything?

“I’m just tired,” Whumpee said as they started off with shuffling steps towards their room.

“Okay.” Caretaker calculated the time they’d remind Whumpee to take more pills like the world’s most proactive medi-minder. They chewed their lip as they watched Whumpee go. They hoped they got some rest. “Let me know if you need anything.”

That night, Caretaker dozed in the couch, but a single whimper from Whumpee’s room woke them. They crossed the room and fumbled for the lamp’s switch. The golden light revealed Whumpee, sweating and tangled in their covers. Their eyes were dazed and frightful; their mouth opened and they let out a pathetic groan as they pulled themself toward the edge of the bed.

“Whumpee,” Caretaker said as they put a hand on Whumpee’s shoulder; they were looking at them, but they weren’t seeing them.  “Hey, Whumpee.”

“Nonono,” Whumpee said. Their voice was far off, but it sounded no less distressed. “Stop Don't Please. It Hurts. N-”

Whumpee came awake and they panted as they braced themself on their elbows. They recoiled from Caretaker’s touch with a whimper and their feet worked at kicking their covers away.

“It’s okay, Whumpee,” Caretaker said. “Ssh. You’re safe. I promise you’re safe, Whumpee.”

They risked putting a hand back on Whumpee’s shoulder. They reminded themself to stay calm for Whumpee’s sake. A sob escaped Whumpee as they fell onto their side, breathing hard. Their feet stil moved ineffectually under the covers.

Caretaker pulled the blankets off of Whumpee and they stopped trying to escape whatever was hunting them. Caretaker grabbed the thermometer and the tissue box before sitting down next to Whumpee and began rubbing the curve of their shoulder.

“It’s okay,” they repeated. “Shshsh. Just a bad dream.”

Was it, though? How dramatically had their fever spiked?

After a bout of coughing, Caretaker offered Whumpee a tissue. Whumpee blew their nose before Caretaker tried to get them to take the thermometer in their mouth. Whumpee turned their face away and pursed their lips. Caretaker might have found humor in the sheer petulence of the gesture had Whumpee not looked so scared.

“C’mon, Whumpee. I’ve gotta see your temp.”

“No,” Whumpee said as they reached with a weak hand, trying to bat away the thermometer.

Caretaker caught Whumpee’s clammy hand and lowered it to the bed.

“I’ve gotta know how bad it is, Whumpee. It’ll just take a minute.”

“Don’t…” Whumpee said as they looked at Caretaker with unfocused eyes. “Don’t take me to the hospital. I can’t be there.”

“I’m just-”

“I can’t.”

Caretaker took a breath. They couldn’t let Whumpee work themself into a lather.

“You’re just coming out of a nightmare, Whumpee. Just give things a minute to make sense.”

“I-”

Whumpee cut themself off; Caretaker hadn’t said whatever they’d expected to hear.

“Just focus on me for a minute. Can you try to do that?”

They nodded, blinked and looked at Caretaker as though they were actually seeing them. Silence fell between them. Whumpee took a deep breath and rested their head back on their pillow and stared at the opposite wall.

“Okay,” they said finally. They allowed Caretaker to place the thermometer under their tongue. It seemed to take an eternity for the thermometer to beep. Caretaker took it back and before looking at it, they prayed to whoever or whatever might be listening that they didn't have to get Whumpee to a hospital.

“One-oh-two point six,” Caretaker said with relief. “That's not so bad. Just a bad dream that did a number on you.”

The lines of Whumpee’s face relaxed and they rested on the pillow, but some sort of melancholy had taken the place of Whumpee’s fear. It was an equally disheartening sight.

“Need anything?” Caretaker asked after they went through the routine they seemed to have established in nursing their friend.

“No.”

“Okay, ” Caretaker said. “Just let me know if you do.”

Caretaker stood and pulled a blanket back over Whumpee, who took its edge in their hand and pulled it to their chin.

“Wait,” Whumpee said when Caretaker turned.

Caretaker paused and looked back at Whumpee.

“Can you…” Whumpee looked at them, their eyes begging Caretaker to understand. “Can you stay?”

What had they dreamed that had them so rattled?

“Of course, ” they said. They settled back down next to Whumpee and swept Whumpee’s hair out of their face. “Whatever you need.”

Whumpee slept late the next morning and Caretaker took the time to tidy the apartment and ask for updates on the case. It had been solved.

When Whumpee came out into the living room, they made a beeline for their recliner. Though Caretaker was constantly present, they exchanged few words and Caretaker could tell Whumpee was putting effort into avoiding their gaze. The news that the case had been resolved seemed to do little to cheer them.

After cleaning the lunch mess, and doing dishes Caretaker sat on the side of the couch that was closest to Whumpee.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Whumpee said without taking their gaze off of the TV.

“It’s no problem.”

More silence. Whumpee dozed off and Caretaker channel surfed.

Caretaker chose a book from Whumpee’s shelf.

Caretaker read the same sentence five damn times before giving up and putting the book on the coffee table.

Whumpee jolted awake with a gasp. Their fingers dug into the armrests and their eyes darted over the room as though they’d woken up somewhere entirely foreign. They cursed and let out a harsh breath.

Caretaker guessed embarrassment, and not sickness, colored Whumpee’s cheeks.

“It’s fine,” Whumpee said before Caretaker could ask.

Whumpee stood, shakily at first, then walked to the kitchen. Caretaker knew any attempt to help them would be rebuffed, so they waited for Whumpee to stare into the refrigerator before they selected a bottle of water before moving back to their seat.

Whumpee sat and sipped.

Caretaker needed to address the elephant in the room. Or at least let Whumpee know the elephant could stay where it was.

“We don’t have to talk about it. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” Caretaker said. “But I hope you know you can if you need to.”

Whumpee’s fingers worried at the armrests.

“I do. I do know. I’m just not used to...” Whumpee’s voice was low but solemn as they gestured toward all the signs of care that had been taken on their behalf. “... to any of this.”

Caretaker wanted to pull them close and tell them how sorry they were to hear that, that they never needed to hesitate to ask for help. They didn’t know what they could possibly say to make it better. Instead, they flashed the easygoing smile that had been missing from their features for the past couple days.

“Well,” they said. “Get used to it.”

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 13}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

THIS CHAPTER IS 18+.

As soon as her lips brushed against his, the fragile, tenuous hold Cassian had on himself snapped. He released the hand he’d been holding and both of his hands found her backside, grabbing and kneading as his lips met hers again. Nesta’s arms snaked around his neck and she lifted herself, bobbing in the water as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

There was so little between them, and as he pressed her back against the wall of the pool, she could feel all of him pressing against her core. He ground himself against her and she tore her lips from his to gasp softly.

Nesta’s blue-grey eyes were wide, wild and glazed, and Cassian pressed his hips into her own again, just to hear that gasp again. He wasn’t expecting the quiet whimper that accompanied it, but it made him repeat the action again and again, until her head was thrown back and her eyes fluttered shut.

“Feel good, already?” Cassian muttered, nipping at her ear. “I haven’t even begun with you yet.”

Nesta’s nails dug into his back as their mouths met, hungry and untamed.

He slid his tongue between her lips, feeling her teeth as they clashed against his. She clung to him as if her life depended on it, and Cassian didn’t mind it, not one bit.

There were countless words Cassian had come up with throughout the years to describe Nesta Archeron: cold, heartless, manipulative, cruel, demeaning, stuck up, cunning, bitch, hot as hell.

But he never imagined she would be promiscuous, devastating, experienced, completely and utterly wild.

Sexy as hell.

As if to taunt him, to prove him wrong, one of her arms slipped from where it wrapped around his shoulders, her nails dragging softly as it went, and she snaked it down between their bodies. Cassian hissed against her lips as she cupped him in her hand and squeezed lightly. She did it again and he pulled his lips from hers again, unable to stop the quiet groan from tumbling from him.

“You like that?” Nesta whispered, as his brow fell against hers. She gazed up into his heavy-lidded gaze. His eyes were glazed, from the alcohol or the lust, she couldn’t tell, and she didn’t care. Not as he nodded.

“You have no idea.” His tone was breathy, gravely, ragged in a way she’d never heard, but wanted to hear again and again. She wondered what her name would sound like if he said it like that.

Letting her hand slide into his swim trunks, she gripped his cock in her hands, squeezing once at the base.

His eyes slid shut and Nesta could have sworn he shivered slightly. She doubted it had anything to do with the warm water they were in.

“And that?” She asked, pumping once. “Do you like that?”

“Tease,” he breathed.

“Is that a complaint?” she asked, beginning to take her hand away.

“Hell no,” he said, lids fluttering open until his eyes met hers.

She watched him, lips parted, completely compulsed by his expressions alone. “Good,” she said, taking him in her hand and pumping, slowly, over and over again.

A low groan came from the depths of Cassian’s throat. He cursed. He said her name.

Nesta’s hand moved quicker, which only made Cassian’s hips move.

Nesta opened her mouth for a snarky comment, but she didn’t get the chance as Cassian took a handful of her hair and pulled her head back, his lips instantly finding the most sensitive part of her neck.

He nipped with his teeth.

Nesta gasped.

A hand gripped her breast and pinched a nipple, at the same time his teeth bit down softly on the spot where her neck met her shoulder.

It only made her grip him harder as she gasped again, and he breathed her name again.

Moving the fabric of her top to the side, his hand covered her breast. He found the nipple he’d just pinched, gently squeezing it between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it softly.

Her head fell back completely, regardless of the hand still buried in her hair, and she stroked him quicker, loving the feeling of his cock in her hand.

She knew she would love having it other places even more.

His lips found her neck again, and as she breathed his name, he let go of her hair, wrapping his hand around hers as she continued to stroke his cock.

“If you keep doing that, you’re going to ruin your fun,” he warned, even as his own hand tightened over hers and he slowed her hand down by just a hair. Showing her exactly how he liked it.

Rough. Hard. And slow.

Her eyes connected with his.

Cassian slowed Nesta’s hand to a halt, and he gave her a long, slow kiss before whispering, “How do you like it, Nesta?”

She didn’t hesitate. “I think you already know.”

“Is that so?”

“Try me.”

Cassian took her hips in his hands and lifted her onto the side of the pool. Thanks to the depth of the pool, he hardly had to lower himself as he pulled her bikini aside and admired her smooth, pink sex. He slid his tongue between her folds, slowly, tauntingly.

He wrapped a hand around one of her thighs and kept her legs spread for him as he teased her with his tongue. Nesta had to stop her head tipping back, had to fight to keep her eyes open as she gazed down at him. The sight of his head between her legs, of his mouth on her… It was the most erotic thing she’d ever seen.

She could also see past him, into the water, where he fisted himself, pumping in time with the stroke of his tongue. Nesta’s hand moved of its own accord as she reached, gripping her breast, and tugging on her peaked nipple. She let a quiet moan fall from her lips and Cassian’s eyes opened and took her in.

He watched her closely as he dragged his tongue up her center and then let it gently drift over her clit. The moan was a bit louder.

He did it again and again, over and over, adding pressure with each pass until he was flicking it, and she was a writhing, moaning mess. Her back was pressed against the unforgiving concrete beneath her and her hand was gripping Cassian’s wet hair.

She swore, and it seemed to set fire to Cassian because he took her clit into his lips and sucked, refusing to be gentle.

“Cass-Cassian,” she begged, as he sucked her in, and in, and in again.

She knew Cassian had been with plenty of women, but the amount of skill he had with his mouth was mesmerizing. Her knees were weak, her heart pounding, her mind unable to form any sort of thought.

“Take me,” she begged. “Take me to bed.”

Cassian leaned back, and met her gaze. She was breathing hard, her bare breasts rising and falling as her chest heaved. “You’re sure?” he asked.

Nesta laughed, her eyes wild. “You can’t take me this far and not take me all the way.”

He was pulling himself out of the pool before she’d barely finished her sentence, taking her hands and helping her to her feet. Water dripped from his trunks, but he barely acknowledged it as he wrapped his arms around her and picked her up again, her legs instinctually wrapping around him. They’d been in this position only a few minutes before. Except this time, there was nothing between them and his cock easily slid between her folds. She whimpered as her lips found his again.

His knees nearly buckled from the slick heat of her, but they didn’t and he carried her into the house.

Nesta’s back found the wall as Cassian paused to grind himself against her wetness more times than she could and by the time he was dropping her onto her bed, they had both lost their swimsuits at some point throughout the house. She looked up at him as he stood at the end of the bed, his cock jutting out proudly.

Biting her bottom lip, Nesta decided she liked looking at that cock.

He climbed over her, his eyes never leaving hers. He leaned down and kissed her, softly, then kissed her neck, her collarbone, her breasts. Then, he was looking at her again, his eyes searching hers for any sort of protest.

There were none.

He leaned down against her, his body covering hers, and whispered, “I’ve dreamt of this.”

Her toes curled from the sound of his tone alone, and the anticipation only increased as his body met hers.

“Condom,” he whispered, between his kisses.

“I’m covered,” she promised.

His nose brushed hers, and he took her hands into his.

“Fuck me,” she breathed.

He didn’t need to be told twice. Cassian pressed the head of his cock into her sex and waited before pushing himself, slowly, into her.

She gasped, her eyelids fluttering shut as he fell into her.

It felt like an eternity before he was seated to the hilt and Nesta felt like she was going to combust. His lips found her neck again and one of his hands trailed along her hip and down her thigh until it hooked behind her knee and hitched her leg up around him. Without moving, he let her adjust, let her get used to the fullness inside of her. Cassian worshipped her neck, kissing, nipping and licking up the column of her throat until he reached her face, tilting her face to his own so he could press a kiss to her lips.

Whispering, he asked, “You okay?”

Her eyes slowly opened and Nesta nodded, lost for words. She kissed him, softly at first, tugging his bottom lip between her teeth a moment later. With a groan, Cassian flexed his hips, just barely. It was enough to make Nesta gasp again, that slight movement, and her head fell back against the pillows.

“Again,” she begged. “Please.”

He obeyed, pulling out a fraction and pushing back in. Again and again, he pulled out and pushed back in, farther each time.

Nesta clung to him, her eyes closed, one hand on his back, the other woven into his hair.

He didn’t hold back.

He thrust into her, again and again, each time becoming more and more natural.

Cassian couldn’t believe this is what he was missing five years before. She was perfect, ethereal. And he fit inside of her as easily as a puzzle piece - a piece he had been missing for years and years and years.

His lips found hers and he felt her nails digging into his back, clinging to him with everything she had in her. Her legs wrapped around his waist, changing the angle allowing him to go deeper, deeper, deeper-.

Nesta moaned into his mouth, release already building in her harder than she’d ever felt. When this orgasm hit, it was going to reorient the universe, throw the planets out of alignment. She felt like she was burning from the inside out, the feel of him pounding into her reigniting her with every thrust.

Soon there was nothing but the sound of their breathing, their occasional moans and groans, and the sound of skin slapping skin.

With a shift of his hips, Cassian thrust in at a slightly different angle, and suddenly Nesta was seeing stars. Her lips tore from his and she called out his name, her release slamming into her. Her back arched off the bed and Cassian wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her body to his. As her walls tightened around him, he moaned into her the valley of her breasts. He continued to pound into her mercilessly, letting her ride out her high, only slowing his thrusts when her breathing settled out and her cries of pleasure became soft whimpers.

He kissed a path up from chest, over her jaw, and to her lips. Her eyes were still shut tightly, but at the feeling of his lips on hers, they fluttered open, glazed over her with lust and her orgasm.

He smirked and was just about to make a snide comment about how sex drunk she looked when she rolled their bodies, catching him off guard.

His cock was still nestled deep inside her and at the shock written on his face, she gave him a smirk as sensual as his own had been.

And then Nesta slowly began to rock her hips.

Cassian’s eyes fluttered shut, his mouth falling open, lost for words. He held onto her waist, his hands massive against her slim figure.

“Nesta,” he pleaded.

She obliged.

As she began to bounce atop him, her fingers grazed his chest. Cassian cursed, a completely filthy word falling from his mouth, which only drove Nesta mad.

She quickened her pace, nails digging into his chest, her head thrown back.

Cassian had never seen such a beautiful sight.

He did his best to hold still, to let her lead, which was easier said than done, but he bent his knees slightly, letting her lean back. The action spread her legs open wider, and Cassian let his gaze linger as it trailed down her body. Licking his thumb, he pressed it to her clit, groaning nearly at the same time as her when she clenched down on his length tightly.

He couldn’t stop himself from thrusting up into her and she cried out, leaning down and crashing her lips to his.

It wasn’t a sweet kiss. It wasn’t tender or like anything he’d ever imagined Nesta Archeron to be during sex. It was rough and primal and their teeth clashed as they both grappled to be in control.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding in place as he snapped his hips into hers again and again.

She wrenched her lips away, resting her brow against his. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she muttered.

“Are you gonna come for me again?” He breathed, keeping his relentless pace.

She nodded, momentarily forgetting how to use words.

“And are you close?” He asked, his voice practically a growl.

“Yes,” she replied, frantically nodding. “Cassian, please.”

He let a hand slip down to cup her rear and, in time with his thrust, he swiftly pulled it away.

It came down against her skin with smack! as he snapped his hips back into her.

Her eyes flared wide open and for eyes flared wide open and for the second time in minutes, release barreled into Nesta and she damn near screamed his name. She was sitting back up and riding him before she’d even come down from her orgasm, her hips bucking, hands pressed to his chest.

Cassian tucked a hand behind his head as he enjoyed the view.

Nesta’s hips slowed as she crashed back into herself, her head dropping as she caught her breath. He leaned forward, tipping her head towards his face and tucking her loose hair behind an ear.

She was still panting slightly when her eyebrows furrowed and she asked, “Have you come yet?”

He smirked, flexing his hips, making his cock twitch where it still sat, rock hard inside of her. “Nope.” He sat up, meeting her with a surprisingly gentle kiss. “Best sex of your life, remember?”

“You’re such a cocky asshole,” she breathed, her chest still rising and falling heavily.

Cassian grinned and kissed her mouth, yet again. Nesta fell into that kiss as she slowly began to rock her hips, back and forth.

Cassian groaned into her lips as his arms tightened around her.

It was completely intimate.

Sex could be a lot of things, and they’d both had plenty of sexual encounters that required zero intimacy at all.

But this?

It was intimate. And for a moment, it was gentle, romantic, beautiful as their lips moved slowly with one another’s, Cassian holding Nesta in his arms, Nesta’s hips rocking in slow, careful rotations.

Their mingled breaths were the only sound in the room as Nesta pulled back to look at Cassian. There was some emotion in his eyes, something she couldn’t quite name as she rode him, but it made her feel like she was stripped bare. She felt like he could see all of her, everything she’d ever buried and hidden deep inside, and wasn’t afraid of it. It was intense and overwhelming and the weight of that look, of his stare, had her body feel like it was overheating.

He whispered her name, and her toes curled as his head fell back, his lips parted, his eyes falling shut.

Nesta reached up and raked her fingers through his hair, still wet from the pool, the sweat.

“Cassian,” she whispered, and Cassian slowly met her gaze. She didn’t have to say anything more, he could see the plea in her eyes.

Best sex ever? Give it to me.

With a low growl, Cassian gripped her hips and flipped her around. He climbed up over her and brushed her hair aside before kissing the side of her neck, and down her shoulder, her back, her ass.

He spread her legs wide and licked her sex, just once, before kneeling between her legs and grabbing her hips.

As he plunged into her in one harsh thrust, Nesta couldn’t help the scream of pleasure that tore from her, muffled, thanks to her face being buried in the blankets. This was nothing like the sweet, sensual sex of moments before. No, this was ravaging and primal and different. Not bad, because she was almost sure there could be no bad sex with Cassian, but as his hips snapped into hers again and again, she couldn’t help but feel like this was a claiming.

A claiming she was damn near ready to give herself over to.

Suddenly, she felt his thrusts getting sloppier, the smooth pace he’d kept up the whole night becoming more and more erratic. Even the quiet grunts and groan of pleasure that had been falling from his mouth were louder, more defined, and the sound of her name on his lips was her undoing.

She shattered.

Her vision went black as she was taken into a pure state of nirvana. She could hear herself whimpering, could hear Cassian’s own sounds as he came, but it all sounded far away.

Far away from the paradise Nesta had entered.

It took a moment for her to come back, for her to become aware of her surroundings, for her to realize that Cassian’s hands were still on her hips, his cock still buried deep inside her, as his heavy breathing, matched with her own, filled the silence.

For a moment, neither of them moved, neither of them said a thing.

He slowly pulled out, running a gentle hand over the curve of her ass. She felt, rather than saw, their mixed releases dripping down her thighs, out of her swollen sex. She knew he was watching though, taking the sight in, and her face heated.

Nesta was about to get up, to rush into the bathroom and shut the door in his face, when he murmured, “Stay there, I’ll be right back.”

He climbed off of the bed, striding into the attached bathroom, and she heard the water running in the sink. A moment later, he returned and he ran a warm, wet washcloth over the back of her thighs, cleaning up their mess. Brushing it along her sex, he wiped away what was left of it there as well, before he tossed it back into the bathroom. It landed over the edge of the bathtub with a slap!

Nesta’s face still burned, but she let her hips sink into the bed at last, and glanced up at him. Her blush had nothing to do with the fact that he’d cleaned her up, something none of her past partners had bothered to do, and everything to do with the fact that he was still as naked as she was.

Cassian opened his mouth to say something, then shut his mouth, once again. Nesta was in a similar position...she had no idea what to say.

“So-.” they both began at the same time, then chuckled, uncomfortably.

“Goodnight, then,” Nesta blurted, at last.

Cassian blinked, then hesitated. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, goodnight.”

He took a step back, wondering if she would ask him to stay, but she didn’t. She pulled the covers up to hide her body as he took another step back.

Then another.

And another.

Nesta said nothing.

So Cassian repeated, “Goodnight.”

He crossed the hall and as soon as he was out of the room, he could hear the mattress shifting and her feet hitting the floor. His mind raced as he went into his own room and carefully shut the door behind him, leaning back against it, running his hands through his hair.

He took a breath, letting his head fall back against the wood. He wasn’t really sure what had just happened.

One minute, they’d agreed to a truce, the next he’d been eating her out on the side of the pool, her hands knotted in his hair.

He had no idea how they’d gotten there, had no idea how they’d ended up in her bed, or how he’d ended up buried deep inside of her.

All he knew is that he had a feeling things were about to get very, very complicated.

[stuckysdaughter]

Kinktober 2021

Day 16 - Nipple Play with Billy Russo

Summary: Today is a very special day: Billy’s birthday. He gets to choose what you do today, and he’s got an idea in mind.

TW: 18+, explicit, smut, language, bondage (the only time I’m doing it, ps)

Tagging: @eginv-blog @rachlovesactors

------

Billy loved his birthday. It was never really celebrated when he was a child, but now as an adult it is one of his favorite days. The friends, the cake, the small gift, and most importantly - you, his beautiful wife. You were what made it that much better, and today was no different.

You had gotten everyone together, choosing to have people over for dinner and drinks. Frank and Karen came, and a small group of people from work and his days in the military. You all had a grand old time, swapping stories and laughs the whole night. Now you and Billy were alone, everyone else deciding it was time to go home.

You were finishing washing dishes, your husband sitting at the counter. “You know,” he started, “My birthday’s not over for a few more minutes.”

“Yeah?” You turned, hanging up the towel you were using. “What about it?”

“That means I still get to decide what we do for a little while longer.”

You walked over to the counter, and leaned on your elbows, meeting his gaze. “What did you have in mind?”

His tongue darted out to lick his lips, his eyes roaming your face. His gaze turned, looking more mischievous.

“I have an idea or two.”

He leaned closer and kissed you, cupping your cheek with his hand. Pulling apart, he darted around the counter and grabbed your hand. He gently tugged you along, into the bedroom. Once you both were inside, Billy nudged the door closed with his heel. He then pushed you against it, pinning you there with his hands on either side of your head. He kissed you furiously, his tongue claiming dominance in your mouth. You moaned, and Billy pulled away at the sound. He smirked, and got a wicked glint in his eye.

“Now, be a good girl, strip and get on the bed. I’ll be right there in a moment.”

You did as instructed, and you watched as Billy rummaged around one of his drawers and emerged holding one of his ties. You gulped, knowing where this was going. You had done this once before, and you were getting excited for what was ahead of you. Billy climbed on the bed, and grabbed your wrists. He tied them together around the headboard of your bed.

“Safe word?”

“Anvil.”

“Good,” Now confident you were ok and you knew what to do to make him stop, he started. His hands roamed over your body, massaging skin as he went. He wanted to savor this moment, it was his birthday after all. He pressed a long kiss to your lips, trailing downward to suck and bite on your neck. Turning his attentions to your breasts, he kissed each nipple in turn, before taking one in his mouth. He massaged the other with his hand, rolling your rock hard nipple between his fingers. You moaned under his touch, Billy knowing exactly what to do to make you feel good.

Unlatching from your breast, Billy blew cold air on your nipple, and gently flicked the small pebble it had formed. Doing it again to the other, Billy smirked at how you shuddered underneath him.

"You like that, pretty girl? You like the way I touch you?"

"Oh, god, Billy... yes..."

"I haven't even fucked you yet and you can barely speak."

"Please, Billy... I need you..."

"You want my cock, beautiful? You want me to fuck you?" You nodded eagerly, hands straining against their bonds. "Alright, princess. If you can be a good girl and not fight your restraints, I'll give you what you want."

"I promise, Billy... please..."

He kissed you. "Color?"

"Green."

He smiled a wolfish gleam in his eye. "Then lie back for me. Don't move until I tell you to."

You did as instructed, anticipation getting the best of you. With your eyes to the ceiling, you couldn't see what your husband was up to. You could feel him press kisses down your stomach, on your thighs, and on your aching arousal. When he pushed into you, you were caught off guard, letting out a loud gasp. He stretched your walls as far as they would go, and it felt amazing.

"God, Y/N... you feel so good wrapped around my dick. You're my good little girl, aren't you?"

"Yes, Billy... I-I'm all yours."

Your words ignited something in him, and he thrust into you with all his strength. He buried himself in you to the hilt, hitting the spot that makes your back arch.

Billy placed a hand on your stomach. "Lie still, darling, or I'll stop."

You lied back again, trying to keep still. It was difficult, the pleasure you were feeling overpowering you completely. Billy continued his movements, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing through the room. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, your release coming soon. The moans coming from your mouth were sinful, which was music to Billy's ears.

"Fuck... Billy, 'm close..."

He groaned, and shifted so he was above you. He pulled you close to his chest, and murmured in your ear, "Cum for me, sweetheart. Let go."

Your arousal finally reached its peak, overtaking you in a huge wave. You strained against the headboard, aching to touch your husband. He kissed the junction of your neck, helping you through your release. His high came soon after yours, pulling out of you before he came. He untied your hands, kissing the red marks on your wrists. He laid down next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your hand tangled in his hair, the other cupping his cheek.

"Did you have a good birthday?"

He smiled, grin spreading across his whole face. "Yeah, sweetheart, I did. Thanks to you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Everything is better when I have you with me."

You smiled, and looked deep in his eyes. "I love you, Billy Russo."

Your husband kissed you, love dripping from every moment you stayed in his arms. "I love you too, Y/N Russo."

------

THE END

Author's Notes: Another one done! I know I said I wouldn't do bondage, and I fully intend on keeping to that from now on. It usually rubs me the wrong way, but if this is something you like that's cool too. I'm not one to judge. If you liked this fic, please like, reblog, and comment. If you want me to write something, send in a request and I'll do my best. If you want to be tagged in anything, send a message and I'll add you to the list. I look forward to hearing your feedback! I love you all so much!! - Butterfly

[wwilloww]

restless sleep | myg

PAIRING yoongi x reader

RATING explicit. 18+

GENRE smut. fluff. established relationship. sleeping beauty!au. 

WC 4.5k

SUMMARY When one of you is always asleep, spending quality time together becomes easier to do in dreamworld, especially when you’re clear with Yoongi exactly what it is you’ve been fantasizing about. 

WARNINGS AND TAGS explicit conversation about somnophilia and consent. consensual somnophilia. fingering. mouth fucking. grinding. dirty talk. unprotected sex within an established relationship. creampie. cum play.

AN Please read the warnings and tags before diving into this piece! If it doesn’t toot your horn, don’t worry! And a little reminder: this blog is a space of sexual exploration into consent and kink in my own life and that this piece is a part of that, although in a different direction than I’ve gone before. With that in mind, I ask that you be respectful of this new exploration. Thanks!

With that out of the way, @joopiterjoon gets all the love and finger hearts from Namjoon today as they helped me beta this on a whim this afternoon. We can thank them for helping me string together this story to where it is now. And of course, sending love to @thatlongspringnight who somehow finds a way to becoming an integral part of my creative process no matter what it is I’m working on. 

This fic is part of the Wish Upon a Star Collab. We have a full month of Disney inspired stories, so keep an eye out for them! 

©wwilloww Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

restless sleep

It’s been so long since you’d been to the ocean. You missed the sea breeze, that familiar and spiteful twang to the air. You missed the ocean, lapping at the tops of your feet as you walk for hours. You missed wandering into the gentle swells of the waves on impulse until the water reached your collarbone. You would only stop your walk into the ocean when you were far enough out that you could hear the breakers crashing behind you. And then you would just stand there — or float, if it were deep enough — and let the rocking rhythm of the ocean moving towards the shore roll through you.

The best part would be that as you fell asleep that night in some hostel bed or in the warm cocoon of a hammock, as sleep began to lap at your consciousness, your body would remember the rocking. The push and pull of water around you. Completely dry, you were surrounded by the water, the careful, pulsating embrace of the sea.

Yoongi promised he would take you.

“Soon, I promise, soon,” he would tell you, gripping your hand and smiling at you after you told him about another dream about the coast. When Yoongi made a promise, it was going to be kept.

But there were things to be done first. After your marriage, life exploded with expectation, with responsibility. Even as you settled into the gentle sway of life in your new home, there were obligations that kept you tied here.

So, in dreams, you chased the ocean. Hunted down the salted air, the sand between your toes, and the feeling of being wrapped up in something so much larger than you.

“What if I told you I wanted you to be able to do… anything to me.”

Yoongi lowers the book he’s been reading, looking up at you over the thick spine. You stand at the foot of the bed, wearing one of your softest, largest shirts. You often wore something like this to bed, only to shuck it off over your head the moment Yoongi’s hands came to rest on your waist.  

His brow presses for a moment, mouth opening in that cute little gape.

“What — You don’t mean anything, do you?”

You laugh and plop onto the bed, crawling towards him. Why does it have to be so goddamn big? You think, eager to be in his lap.

Despite being a deep sleeper, you were also a restless sleeper and the reason why Yoongi had invested in such a large fucking bed.

A large fucking bed, he chuckled to himself.

Not only were you wild in bed, you were wild in bed, often switching positions at least six or seven times during the night. It was a frequent occurrence to find you half slumped off the end of the mattress, ass in the air, as if you attempted, failed, and collapsed in the middle of trying to climb into bed. Yoongi often woke to find you starfished across the blankets, a leg thrown across his abdomen and three fingers shoved into his mouth. If he wasn’t such a deep sleeper himself, if he wasn’t so fucking in love with you, he might be annoyed by it. So he just bought a bigger bed and made sure to thoroughly wear you out before you fell asleep. You were happy to oblige with his exercise suggestions, especially when they involved rope, roleplay, or pushing the boundaries of your desire for each other. With Yoongi, it was always safe to explore.

Finally settled in his lap, you take the book out of his hands and toss it towards the nightstand. You reach out for the thick lock of hair that has fallen into his eyes and brush it back, smoothing out the press of his forehead. He softens beneath your touch.

“When I say anything — I mean anything.” Your lips purse for a second, thinking about how to say the next thing. “There’s something that thrills me about the idea that I’m yours, entirely. That I’m here, for you, for every single one of your needs and wants and—” you smirk on the last word, “ — desires.”

“Surely you can’t mean anything.”

“Consider this my blanket consent statement.”

“So if I insisted on cooking dinner every night of the week? You would just let me?”

You frown. “I’ve just offered you a blanket consent statement and your first instinct is to take on more of the household duties?” He chuckles.

“Well, then. That and…” Yoongi shifts you in his lap and you gasp. He’s still wearing his jeans, but you can feel the press of his hard cock through the fabric against your bare pussy. “What if during those dinners, I asked you to crawl under the table, onto your knees. Take my cock out of my pants and suck me dry.”

“I’d happily oblige you,” you say, your voice wavering a little as you press your clit against the rough fabric, seeking any kind of friction to ease the quickly rising ache in your cunt.

“If we were out swimming in the lake and I wanted you there and then.”

“Then you’d have me, there and then.”

His voice drops, becoming quieter, darker, as his hands dip to your waist, underneath the shirt. “If I wanted to tie you up, spread wide and willing in the front room for everyone to see, and fuck orgasms out of you until you couldn’t cum anymore.”

“I know,” you say, brushing your lips against his. “that you’re actively trying to dissuade me of my desire, but instead you’re only convincing me that this was absolutely the right thing to bring up. See?” You take his hand and, lifting the fabric of your shirt, bring it beneath. You guide his hand to the apex of your legs to where wetness has gathered and is now dripping.

“You’re—”

“Not wearing anything beneath this. Do you see how willing I am to be anything for you, my love? To be fucked by you? Used by you?” You let your lips trace the angle of his jaw towards his ear. “To be your pretty little sex toy?”

His breath hitches in his throat.

“Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll drop it. I won’t bring it up again,” you whisper.

“That’s not it. Not it, not one bit.”

His eyes glimmer with mischief.

“Then where is your hesitation?”

“Just contemplating when and where to begin.”

“What would you say if I told you I wanted you to fuck me while I was sleeping?”

In a moment, Yoongi has flipped you so that you’re beneath him now. Your breath rushes out of you as your back lands on the mattress. He crawls up your torso, an animalistic fire glinting in his eyes. He takes the hem of your shirt between his teeth, guiding it up your chest until your breasts are exposed to him.

“I’d say that sounds like an excellent idea.” He continues to move up ever so slowly until he’s face to face with you. In one swift movement, you feel his clothed erection press up against your cunt and you gasp. “Tell me more. Exactly how do you imagine me fucking you?”

“Good—” You gasp as he presses his hips to yours, your hand automatically reaching for his arm for grounding as pleasure shoots through you. “I imagine you fucking me good.”

Yoongi chuckles.

“Don’t I always?”

“Y-yes.”

“I need you to be more specific. When can I fuck you?”

“Anytime,” you say. “You can fuck me whenever. Whenever you want.”

His nose traces up your neck until his teeth latch onto your earlobe.

“You sure?”

“Y-yes.”

“And how can I fuck you?”

“Literally—” Your hands wrap around his neck, pressing him to you as he kisses and nips at the sensitive skin on your neck. “--however you’d like. I don’t think you—” You gasp as his hand drifts down to your center, two fingers sliding through your folds. But you grit your teeth and keep going. “--you understand what a blanket consent statement entails.”

He pulls back just enough for you to see the determination in his eyes.

“Oh, I do, my love. I just want to hear from you exactly how you imagine this little fantasy playing out.” As he slips a finger inside you, you bite down on your lip. “So tell me. Tell me about this fantasy of yours.”

You struggle to keep your breath under control as he begins pushing his fingers deep into you. He is still wearing his rings — just the way you liked it — and the shocking contrast of the warmth of his body and the cool metal of the jewelry slipping inside you always had you gasping.

“I want you—” You squeeze your eyes shut as he curls his fingers against your g-spot. “I want you to fuck me in whatever way comes to mind.” Another press, another gasp. “Want you to take what you need. Whatever thought crosses your mind—” He slides a third finger into you. Begins pumping in and out as he watches your face and drinks in every flicker of pleasure. “Wanna be your fuck toy.”

“And what else do you want?”

“Wanna wake up with your cum inside me.”

Sleep feels like a fucking boulder, resting on Yoongi’s chest. Crawling out from underneath it is painful. Difficult, even. If he wakes in the middle of the night, it’s with squinting eyes and a bit of an ache in his limbs.

But tonight when he wakes, his chest heaves, his breath coming quickly. He blinks as the wisps of his dream seem to linger around his mind, both intangible and utterly drowning:

Your fingers, wrapped around his throat, pressing so lightly. You smiled down onto him, that smile he couldn’t erase from his mind’s eye. Was it the pressure on his artery or the delight in your gaze that made his head dizzy?

He sucks in a deep breath, feeling his cock twitch against his stomach.

Fuck.

A light snore echoes from the other side of the bed.

You’re stretched out on the pillow next to him. No matter where he slept on your extra large bed, you always seemed to gravitate towards his presence. Tonight, your hand is reached out towards him, fingers wrapped lightly around his bicep.

Your face half pressed into the pillow, your cheek rounded and reflecting the lightest stream of moonlight.

Your lips, pressed so sweetly together, he could imagine himself slipping inside, feeling the warmth of your tongue lapping over him, the divine heat of your mouth sucking him dry—

His eyes shoot open.

The last time you two had tried this — fulfilling your little fantasy — you had been so excited that you woke up as soon as his dick touched you. It had ended in all of your sheets stripped from the bed and your head and one arm draped off the end of the mattress as you both panted like you’d just run a marathon without any training. It was good. Sex with you was always good. But it hadn’t been what you wanted.

Looking over you now, you’re dead asleep. With the ghost of a smirk playing against his lips, he pulls himself up to sitting and comes to kneel by your head.

You look so serene while sleeping, he almost doesn’t want to disturb you. But as your lips part and you take a long, deep breath, his dick twitches against his stomach and he realizes: He wants this just as much as you do.

Wrapping his ring-clad fingers around the base of his cock, he gave himself a slow stroke up and down the length, stroking from half hard to a little more than half hard. Carefully, he presses the tip to your lips. They part without him pushing.

Your tongue flicks out, licking up the bead of precum that glimmers at the tip. You hum sleepily in delight. While you were a restless and responsive sleeper, you were also a notoriously deep sleeper. Yoongi pushes the head of his cock into your mouth, your jaw widening, your tongue flattening instinctively at the intrusion.

You purse your lips and suckle softly at the tip of his cock and Yoongi can't help the hiss that leaves his mouth.

"Even asleep," he whispers, "You're such a good little pet for me." He reaches for you, smoothing the hair out of your eyes and coming to grip your head tenderly.

Ever so gently, he presses further into you, feeling the warm and wet heat of your mouth envelop him. He doesn't go too far though. He's not interested in gagging you awake with his cock. He'd much rather watch your eyes flutter open, mid orgasm. Fighting the urge to throat-fuck you - because that is always the urge with you - he strokes in and out of your warm and waiting mouth with deliberation, using his grip on your head to maneuver you to his whim. With each pull, his cock gets a little bit harder.

When he's fully hard, he slips out of your mouth with a slight pop.

In your sleep, your brow furrows and you sleepily reach out for him, fingers tracing over the now-unoccupied pillow. If a sleeping person could look disgruntled, you're the perfect image of it.

"Don't worry, baby," he murmurs. "I'll give you exactly what you want."

Yoongi moves the thin sheet aside and you mumble a little as the cool air of the room sweeps over your skin, raising goosebumps to the surface. Beneath it, you're the image of perfection. Every curve, every roll, every little mark and bump and detail you might have found issue with radiates with the mark of perfection: the mark of you. Tonight, your rambunctious sonambulations have brought you into a strange but oddly convenient position. Belly down, face half pressed into the pillow, knee pulled up to your side. The position adds a slight curve to your lower back and accentuates the round hill of your ass.

"Perfect," Yoongi whispers, pressing a hand to your lower back before letting his fingers spread wide, letting his hand cup the rounded swell of your ass, watching the way your flesh moulds to his touch.

Hand wrapped around the base of his cock, he glides the head of it through your sopping folds. A small sound of satisfaction slips from you as he presses against your clit, and you adjust in your sleep, pushing your ass up even further for him, already pushing towards the pleasure building in your lower abdomen. With a bit more bravado, Yoongi pushes more of his length through your lips, gathering the moisture there to coat himself thoroughly.

There’s a part of him that just wants to go like this, rutting slowly against your ass until he cums, spilling himself into the small of your back. But you had been specific in what you wanted — and, after all, who was he to deny you?

He notches the head of his cock against your entrance and after a deep breath, begins to push inside. A shaky breath racks through him as the tight walls of your cunt wrap around him, drawing him in, drawing him closer. He slides a hand up your spine, tracing your body as he continues to push inside you, working his cock into you inch by inch.

Finally seated fully within you, he lets out a quick breath, a laugh almost. You, wrapped around him, is as incredible as ever. Warm. Tight. Wet.

Slowly, he begins to move, pulling in and out, watching the way his cock emerges from your cunt coated in your arousal, watching the way your ass jiggles just enough when he slides in all the way. Your body accepts him, tightens around him, sparks him with pleasure. Your breath stutters as he sets a pace.

“Mm,” you murmur. “Yoongi.”

He pauses for a moment, gaging whether you are awake or not. But your eyes stay shut and your limbs stay leaden.

Are you dreaming of him? he wonders. With his cock buried inside you, will you notice the warmth that spreads through your abdomen? Are you dreaming about him fucking you, taking his pleasure — or are you somewhere else entirely, your body responding in tandem to his actions?

For him, the answers to the same questions cut like clear and cold water through his mind. Pleasure, rearing her head in his consciousness.

He wants to touch you.

He pulls out of you and you whine at the loss of contact, hand drifting through the sheets around you in search of him, coming up empty. But his touch isn’t quickly lost — his hands grip your hips, turning you gently and slowly until you’re laid out for him on your back. You smack your lips sleepy, a sloppy hand coming to brush the hair in your face. When he crawls over you, he settles his weight just enough on top of you that his presence drifts down through layers of dream, layers of sleep and into your sense of presence.

He fits right where he’s supposed to. On top of you, surrounding you, within you. He was there in your dreams too, sitting beside you in some kind of strange and foreign garden, speaking softly and in words you know but don’t understand. You’re drawn up through the dream, greens and pinks shifting into the deep purple of the room, the dark red of the pleasure burning low and hot in your abdomen. Dream, mid-sleep, waking: through it all there is one constant.

Yoongi.

Your eyes flutter open, splitting from the warmth of your mind to the blanketing darkness of the bedroom. He watches.  

“Sh, baby,” he murmurs, brushing the hair off of your face. “Relax. You can go back to sleep.”

“Closer,” you mumble, the word half spoken. Your arm wrapping weakly around his back.

He chuckles, pressing his cock against your belly once more, grinding into you with the lightest of pressure. He’s hard. Painfully hard.

“I’m going to fill you up,” he whispers in your ear. “Fill you up with my cum.”

You hum, fingers slowly spreading down his arm. “Good boy.”

He’s not sure if it’s supposed to be deriding or complimentary or what, because a yawn is already spreading across your face, eyes fluttering closed shut again. Whatever you meant, it comes out sweet. Contented.

He lets his hands run over you, tracing the dip of your waist up towards your chest, hands skirting the swell of your breasts before taking them beneath his palm, kneading them softly and slowly. You sigh into his touch. This, getting to look at you, laid out beneath him, sleepy and still — it’s something else entirely. It is the act alone, an indulgence, a new way of looking at you. Getting to take you in completely and without boundary.

For the second time of the night — or early morning — Yoongi grips his cock and begins to ease slowly inside you. He grips your hip for leverage as he pushes inside, maneuvering your body to his will. Your walls part willingly for him and he slips easily within you. Laid attop you, it feels as if he is notched against you, within you, like a puzzle piece. There’s no way he could go any deeper, reach any further into you. When he begins to move, hips pumping at a dangerously slow pace he chokes a little at the pleasure of it all.  

You’re entirely still beneath him as he fucks into you — and quiet too, beside a couple of hums and sighs that slip from your lips when he hits a particularly sensitive spot.

Sleep and wake are entirely blurred at this point. You hang suspended between the boundless embrace of dream and the guiding touch of the physical world. It feels like the sea, that rocking pleasure that rolls through you, tide taking you where it will. The pleasure, though partially in the movement of him against you, is in the letting go. The release as the current carries you to an unnamable location.

Body pressed against yours, his hips rocking in and out of you at an instinctual pace. His breath begins to build in his throat, a quick pant.

“Fuck,” he grunts as the walls of your cunt pulse around him. He holds his voice back, and the word barely brushes against you.

You stay silent — somewhere between sleep and presence — and the worry that he’ll wake you has entirely slipped from his mind. Beneath him, you are you, vessel of his love, his affection, as well as the means of the pleasure that you draw from him over and over and over again. The combination swirls dangerously in his mind, love, lust, animalistic desire combining in a heady mix until he’s not sure which way is up. All there is is you, your body, the pleasure of it all.

Your eyes don’t open again as he fucks you. He lets his desire set the pace — agonizingly slow in one moment — then pounding into you, chasing the reeling sensation in his gut in another. Is this what it is to let himself go too? To release himself to the limits of his own want?

“Do you feel me?” he whispers softly, quiet enough that he knows you won’t hear it — at least not in a waking sense — as he continues to rock against you, his cock reaching deeper and deeper into your tight warmth. He imagines that his words, that the deep gravel of his voice, will drift down through the layers of sleep and into your mind nonetheless. And they do, settling into you with a warm thrill. You reach for him, want him closer, want him deeper, want him to sink into every cell of you. Your hand smooths against his back, dropping lower to the small of his back.

“Can you feel me inside you, filling you, taking you—” The words are more of a grunt now, him forcing the sounds over his tongue, holding back the fire that burns in his abdomen just enough to linger on the edge of the drop. “Do you feel how good you feel around me? Do you know what you do to me—What you make me into?”

His breath comes in pants, the sharpness flickering across your skin like the flame of a candle. He continues to grind his cock into you, pressing his body as tightly to yours as he can.

“Do you know how good you are for me? Letting me use you like this? Letting me fuck you and fill you up?”

He grunts as your cunt clenches around him. Each thrust pushes you deeper into the mattress, his hips now ramming into you with power and desire.

“Fuck—” he hisses. “If only you knew—”

Your hips press into his changing the angle just enough that your cunt clenches even tighter around him. Your eyes flutter open, sleepily locking on his in the darkness of the room. His gaze burns against yours, a desire set free within his expression that you haven’t seen before. Through the haze of sleep you hear it:

“Come for me. Come around my cock. Come while I fill you up.”

You gasp as your orgasm rushes through you. Back arched, mouth pressed into a perfect o, sleep-ridden limbs wrapping around Yoongi, pulling him impossibly close.

He grunts as his pace quickens, pounding into you, stuttering as he reaches the final edge. His head falls against your shoulder, hips still rocking against yours as he bites and nips at your neck. Finally, he presses his hips into yours, stilling with a groan as he spills within you, cock twitching and spurting.

Your combined breaths shudder against one another as you slip down from the heights of your orgasm.

When he pulls himself from you, you whine, again, reaching for him. He watches for a moment as his cum begins to seep from your still clenching cunt, mouth watering at the sight. You begin to squirm a bit, still distressed from the loss of contact.

“Sh,” Yoongi murmurs, settling between your legs. “Sleep now.”

Your fingers trail down your stomach, coming to wake enough to feel the soft hush of bliss that radiates through your body and the stickiness that is coming to spill onto your thighs.

“Leave it inside,” he says, his hand coming down on top of yours to still your actions. “I want to see it drip from you.”

You hum in understanding as he lays his head down on your thigh, watching as his cum begins to spill out of you. His cock twitches at the sight. You, filled and marked by him. The thought quickens his breath, stirs the once-satiated ache once again. He chuckles at the thought. Filling you again and again until he’s entirely spent.

He watches the flow of the white liquid ease out of your spent cunt.

“Squeeze for me,” he whispers, and you oblige him, your instinct to please strong even when half-conscious. As you clench and even more cum leaks from your cunt. It slows, but only for a moment before he’s gently pushing two fingers inside you again, to see how much will spill from you. Then, he presses his mouth to your lips, licking a broad stripe up, collecting the taste of you and him mingling on his tongue before swallowing, his adam’s apple bobbing. He looks up at you, your chest rising slowly and steadily as you drift towards sleep. He lowers his head. Again, and again he licks at your cunt, until any trace of his own cum has disappeared.

If it could, your cunt would be gleaming with how thoroughly he’s cleaned you up. As he smiles at his handiwork, he realizes he’s entirely hard again.

A couple minutes of rest, he thinks. Then, he’ll fill you up again, leaving you to find another load of his cum dripping from your thighs as you wake, just as you had begged him to.

Sleep is already sneaking up on you, the tendrils of dream and of darkness seeping like salt water into your mind as you settle into the comfort of Yoongi’s body wrapped around yours, holding you safe and tight. You grumble happily as he pulls your body tight to his, so that you are both laid on your sides, your ass notched perfectly against his cock.

With stillness, you fall back into the dream of the garden. As warmth spreads through your body, the ground fills slowly and steadily with water, consuming everything in its wake. Together with Yoongi, his body pressed to your back, you watch with a calm and steady heart as the world around you turns into an ocean.

For once, you don’t stir once until morning, until the sky warms to a deep purple, streaked with the low burn of dawn.

©wwilloww Do not repost, translate, or use my stories without my permission.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

-> if you enjoyed this, please consider telling me what you think by leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging!  -> want to read more?

taglist: @spicykoreantatertots @usuallynervoussheep​ @hesperantha​ @myimaginationsrunningwild​ @lucedelsole97​ @heichooouuu​ @yoong-i​ @kookieskiwi​ @ries-universe @minyoongiboongi​ @shameless-army​ @thatlongspringnight​ @thatmultifandomhoe​ @ezralia-writes​ 

[hyungieyoongi]

Found: “Run Away to You” Part 1

Let me go.

He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Former Actress!Reader 

Word Count: 1.6K

Genre: Fluff + Angst 

Series Masterlist: Run Away to You 

Premise: You ran away from your acting career one year ago, disappearing from the spotlight without a trace. No one from your past life knew where to find you. On the anniversary of your disappearance, your carefully constructed reality is shattered.

// Part 2

---

Looking at the calendar on your wall, the date glared back at you, red marker encircling the number as if you could forget it.

One year. It had been one whole year since you ran away from your old life.

Happy anniversary to me, you thought bitterly.

It hadn’t been easy–no, it had been tactful, strategic. Your best friend-turned-publicist, Marianne, had programmed your social media accounts to simultaneously deactivate. The phone you used for “celebrity” contacts and business-related matters was permanently turned off, stashed away in the back of a drawer. You had already moved all your belongings to a new apartment on the other side of the city, address undisclosed to everyone except Marianne and your parents on the other side of the world. Everything had been in place for you to completely disappear.

You were instructed to lay low for at least one entire month, groceries delivered to your door under a fake name with Marianne’s credit card. You had cut your hair, once long and flowing, to your collarbone. It was often hidden under a baseball hat when you went to your favorite café for a coffee or took your elderly neighbor’s dog for walks around the park. You were completely off the radar, just as intended.

That didn’t stop the world from trying to track you down for a while. Fan blogs speculated where you could have gone, and tabloids splashed old pictures of you on their covers with speculative headlines. Your parents even had to install a state-of-the-art security system in your hometown in the States after a magazine found out where you grew up and tried to break into their backyard. But you weren’t naïve enough to go back home; that was the first place people would expect you to go. Instead, you were hidden in plain sight in Seoul, just sans the flashes of the cameras following you. Without the designer clothes or big sunglasses hiding your features, you looked just like anyone else. Undetectable.  

You had grown up in America, studying acting and Korean during your time at university with Marianne. Upon graduation, you landed a major role in a K-drama, uprooting your entire life to move to Seoul. For five years, you lived in the spotlight under the industry’s microscope. People said you were living the dream, but it started to feel more like a nightmare. It became overwhelming, suffocating.

When the show wrapped after three seasons, you knew it was time. You decided to run. You just wish you didn’t have to hurt anyone else in the process. Especially him.

You had instructed Marianne to give him a letter explaining why you had to go away, but she never heard back from him.

Let me go, Yoongi. Don’t look for me. This is for the best. I will always care about you. – Y/N

The words were emblazoned in your memory, your eyes tearing up at the thought of him reading the words you wrote to him.

Let me go.

He was, without a doubt, your hardest goodbye.  

Your cell phone rang, distracting you from the memories that plagued your thoughts today.

“Good afternoon, dearie!” Marianne chirped on the other end of the phone. “It’s a big day for you. The first half of your manuscript came back from the publisher, so get excited to do some editing!” Hiding away from the world for a year gave you a lot of time to think. For you, that meant time to write. Marianne seamlessly transitioned from being your publicist for your acting career to managing your budding career as an author, even helping you pick out a pseudonym.  

“That’s great news,” you mumbled in reply, taking a long sip of your coffee, the bitterness blooming on your tongue.

“Are you alright? You sound, I don’t know, a little off,” Marianne questioned, concern lacing her normally peppy tone.

“It’s been one year, Marianne,” you replied, knowing she’d understand.

“Oh my,” Marianne said after a beat of silence. “It completely slipped my mind. How are you holding up?”

“I’m alright just a little…weird, I guess? I’m so relieved to have my own life again. But I’m also just kind of mourning my old life today.”

“Oh babe, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Do you want me to come over after work–we can order takeout and watch a movie? Take your mind off things?” Marianne offered.

“No, that’s okay. I think I’m just going to spend the day doing some self-care. We’re meeting tomorrow to discuss the manuscript timeline, right?”

“Yes, of course! I’ll be at the café at 11:00 a.m. Are you sure you’ll be okay today?” Marianne asked, clearly not convinced that you were telling the truth about being alright.

“I’ll call you if I need you, I promise,” you reassured her.

“Night or day, Y/N, you know I’m here.”

After you both said your goodbyes and ended the call, you started to feel restless, needing something to take your mind off the date and the competing emotions swirling in your brain. You decided fresh air and comfort food were the solution.  

Grabbing your keys off the table by the front door, you slipped on your shoes, heading for the local corner store in your neighborhood, mindlessly forgetting your hat on the hook on the wall.

---

Mask pulled over the lower half of his face to conceal his appearance, Yoongi slipped into a nearby corner store, saving himself from the prying eyes that seemed to be examining him a little too closely from across the street.

He had snuck out of the studio without security, wanting to just take a moment to breathe all to himself. He had driven around Seoul with no destination in mind, eventually stopping in a neighborhood he found with a quiet park for a walk. His thoughts betrayed him as they kept going back to you and the letter he received one year ago, now crumpled in the top righthand drawer of his desk. He didn’t need to pull it out today to remember exactly what it said.

Let me go.

Once he read those words, he had stopped reading, smashing the paper together between his fists in frustration, shoving it in the drawer. It had stayed unopened since last year.

Yoongi aimlessly wandered through the aisles of the store, his mind continuously returning to that drawer. He had worked so hard to stop thinking about it–about you–over the past year. Today was a harsh reminder that you were still on his mind. He had stopped calling a long time ago, knowing that you wouldn’t pick up or return his calls. Sometimes though, if he had a little too much to drink with the boys, he’d call your number just to hear your voice on the voicemail recording. He didn’t tell anyone about those late-night calls.

Rounding the aisle corner, he collided with someone, knocking the snacks they had bundled in their arms to the ground. They immediately knelt down, trying to collect them.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Here, let me help you,” Yoongi offered, starting to lean over.

“Oh, no that’s okay I’ve got it.” Yoongi froze, his body going rigid. That voice. Your voice. He hadn’t heard it in-person in over a year. The sweetness of it rang through his ears, reminiscent of the voicemail he knew by heart.

It was you. After all this time.

---

Standing up with your snacks back safely in your grasp, you looked at the man in front of you who seemed to be barely breathing.

You were about to ask if he was alright, but then you recognized it. The black hat–the one with two rings on the edge that he would often wear when he went out. His mask had slipped below his nose, his pale cheeks slightly squished under the pressure of the fabric. Black hair poked out from underneath the hat, falling onto his forehead and into his dark brown eyes. They were wide with shock.  

You felt the color rush from your face, hands beginning to shake because this wasn’t supposed to happen.

You were safe. Safe in your self-made bubble away from the world.

Until he found you. And it burst.

You contemplated turning around, pretending you hadn’t recognized him. Leave him again. But you knew that wasn’t an option now. You had to face the thing you were most scared of–him.

“Yoongi, I-” your voice cracked, barely above a whisper.

“Your hair,” Yoongi remarked, cutting you off, tone flat and quiet. “You cut your hair.” His eyes narrowed at you.

You swallowed the lump that had lodged itself in your throat. “Just...wanted a change, I guess.”

Hide. You wanted to hide.

“You seem to have gone through a lot of changes,” Yoongi said, bitterness seeping into his voice.

You winced at the implication of his words. You took a deep breath to try and collect yourself before replying.

“Can we...can we not do this here?”

“Fine.”

“I live around the corner. Maybe we could just...talk?” you asked, averting your eyes to the ground. When you didn’t hear a reply, you looked back up to Yoongi, who nodded at you once in agreement.

Abandoning your would-be purchases, you walked out the front door of the store, Yoongi silently following behind you. You felt his eyes burning into your back.

Just put one foot in front of the other, you thought to yourself.

As you and Yoongi silently walked to your apartment, neither of you noticed the camera pointed at the two of you, snapping the photo that would change everything.

// Part 2

---

Taglist: @loveyoongles​ @agustd-2020​ @delacyrose224​ @crispychanniee​ @sunshinejunghoseokie @jinsearthh

Want to be added to the tag list? Let me know!

Check out my other work! ❤️