#{ im turning this into a tiny thread fuck it }

[pin-k-ink]

nwjwnsjshwuw im thinking abt having a big argument with hoshina and ending in a rough rough smexy love makingg PLS PLS

daredevil // hoshina soshiro

tw ⇢ dub-con, manhandling, threats, mentions of injuries and death, mild objectification, rough sex, hair pulling, biting/marking, cunnilingus, blowjob, asphyxiation, mentions of pregnancy, unprotected sex, power play, degradation/name calling, face-fucking, dacryphilia, dirty-talking, squirting, it’s kinda fluffy halfway through

wc ⇢ 6.9k

a/n: i got emotional halfway through because im not used to writing characters being this mean. i legit cried. i think you can see the moment i switched up T_T

The sharp bark of Soshiro's voice sliced through the ops room like a whip-crack, killing the busy din dead. You felt those clipped syllables punch straight through the chaos and detonate somewhere deep in your gut.

Fingers frozen on the holographic display, you didn't need to turn and verify the sudden tension coiling through the atmosphere. No, you could taste the aura of displeasure rolling off your boyfriend in practically visible waves from here.

"[Y/N]." Soshiro's growl cut through the stifling quiet like a blade, frayed patience and restrained irritation strung so tightly you could practically picture the vein pulsing at his temple. "A word. Now."

You drew in a steadying breath, fighting the tiny reflexive flutter that sparked low in your belly at that display of pure, smoky dominance. Get it together - he's clearly pissed, not putting on a show for your viewing pleasure. Yet.

Squaring your shoulders, you pivoted to face the stormy-eyed glare currently attempting to bore holes straight through your skull. Soshiro filled up the doorway like an imposing sentinel, arms corded with restrained menace, expression thunderous enough to shrivel houseplants at twenty paces. His violet hair stuck up in wild disarray from where he'd no doubt been raking anxious fingers through the tumbled strands.

But it was the scorching intensity blazing in those hooded scarlet eyes that really snared your attention. The crimson irises were near eclipsed into molten rubies framed by a few slivers of hungry violet, all razored focus currently centered on drinking in every subtle micro-expression flickering across your features.

You refused to be cowed so easily, however. Keeping your shoulders rolled back, you arched one brow in studied defiance and allowed your lips to quirk in a subtly smug smirk.

"Oh, hi babe," you greeted with intentional lightness, forcing your tone to remain easy and unbothered as you blinked up at him from beneath your lashes. "Everything okay?"

You allowed a tiny pout to exaggerate your expression into one of affected innocence - the picture-perfect vision of blameless bewilderment. The muscle ticking along Soshiro's jaw was the only warning before he bulldozed straight through your attempted deflection with the subtlety of a wrecking ball through rice paper.

"Cut the innocent act, [Y/N]-chan," he near growled, the unexpected endearment somehow dripping with more menace than sugared intimacy. Soshiro's nostrils flared as he visibly struggled to rein in whatever was quickly fraying his legendary restraint to mere threads. "Ya know damn well why I'm pissed."

Doing your best to smother the tiny thrill that sparked brighter at his thinly veiled anger, you blinked up at Soshiro through your lashes. You made a show of tracing your gaze down the powerful column of his throat, over the broad, heaving expanse of his chest and sleekly-muscled abdomen just to see his jaw tick again before replying.

"Actually, I don't have a clue, Shiro," you drawled, allowing your voice to dip into a lower, slightly breathier register as you emphasized his nickname with just a hint of taunting lilt. "Care to enlighten me?"

The low, subsonic growl that rumbled through Soshiro's frame in response was downright primordial in its blatant aggression. Before you could so much as hitch in another pointed inhalation, he was suddenly looming over you like a tsunami of leashed brute strength and simmering danger.

Powerful hands whipped out to bracket your upper arms, fingers digging into the lean cords of muscle with just enough force to raise a scattering of pinprick tingles across your hyper-aware nerves. You instinctively craned your neck to maintain eye contact, refusing to be cowed by Soshiro overwhelming your personal space so completely.

His chest expanded with a deep inhalation, the steady rise and fall of that broad, hair-roughened expanse practically hypnotic this close. When Soshiro finally spoke, each precisely enunciated word seemed to reverberate straight through your very marrow with tangible menace.

"Don't play dumb, sweetheart," he rumbled in that same tone of deadly, ominous calm somehow more chilling than any shouted epithet could ever be. "Should know better than to try handlin' me with that pretty pouty act by now..."

"Alright, enough with the thinly veiled threats, Soshiro," you snapped, finally allowing your own temper to flare in the face of his brooding menace. "If you've got something to say, then spit it out already."

His eyes flashed with something darker at your blunt challenge, fingers tightening fractionally on your arms. "Ya really wanna go there, baby?" Soshiro practically purred, upper lip curling in a hint of a sneer. "Fine. The off-books recon op your platoon ran yesterday without clearin' it through the proper chains first. Ring any goddamn bells?"

You felt your own jaw tighten as you fought the instinctive urge to look away guiltily. So that was the root of his pissy mood - the intel-gathering mission you'd deemed necessary despite lacking official authorization.

"It was a prime opportunity that required swift action," you countered, struggling to keep your tone even and professional despite the clear fury simmering behind Soshiro's stare. "We got the intel, didn't we? I'd say the results justified—"

"Don't even try justifyin' that bullshit to me," Soshiro snarled, deep timbre pitching even lower and more ominous as his grasp morphed from restraining into something far more purposefully bruising. "Ya went cowboy, leading yer whole squad into an unsanctioned op without backup or oversight!"

Anger sparked bright and hot in your core at having your capabilities and decisions questioned so bluntly, so publicly. Who the hell did Soshiro think he was to dress you down like some disobedient child rather than a respected platoon leader?

"I am more than capable of assessing potential threats to my team, Vice Captain," you bit out, not even trying to mask the distill that saturated his title. You leaned into Soshiro's restraining grip rather than pull away, unwilling to show even an iota of weakness or retreat. "Perhaps if you spent more time actually supporting our efforts rather than lounging around base, you'd see—"

The words cut off in a breathless huff as Soshiro bodily hauled you closer, eliminating what little distance still separated your bristling frames down to mere ionized inches. His free hand whipped up to fist in your hair, wrenching your head back at a sharp angle that robbed your next words of any scathing barb before they could slur free.

"Don't you dare imply I don't have yer back in the field," Soshiro growled, the words seeming to thrum directly into your feverish skin as your gazes locked and held. Pupils blown wide into yawning chasms swallowed up nearly all traces of amethyst, leaving nothing but pools of opalescent darkness consuming his features. "Ya know damn well that's never been the issue, baby."

Something darker and far more insidious than mere confrontation seemed to bleed into his gaze, tempering the naked fury until it scorched like smoldering coals banked and awaiting the right spark to detonate fully. One side of Soshiro's lips peeled back in a hint of an utterly failed attempt at a smile — something feral and cold and utterly devoid of humor.

"No, the real issue here is yer single-minded self-importance and blatant disrespect for the chain of command," he rumbled in a tone of quiet, inescapable certainty. "Yer stubborn refusal to recognize the bigger picture beyond yer own glory-seekin' antics, consequences be damned..."

You opened your mouth on a vehement denial, every fiber of your being thrumming like a livewire at his unflinching accusations. But Soshiro allowed no quarter or deflection, not a single millimeter of mercy. Shifting his weight minutely, he rolled his hips forward to trap yours in an unforgiving vise of solid, unyielding strength.

"I'm done makin' excuses or turning a blind eye every time ya blatantly disregard established protocols just because ya think ya know better or yer pride's been wounded," he growled, words seeming to sear in an unstoppable cadence. "Tonight, we're going to settle this power struggle once and for all, Platoon Leader..."

His free hand fisted tighter in your hair, making you grit your teeth against the stinging pull and tightening your jaw mulishly. Who the hell did he think he was talking to you like some disobedient child?

You bristled at the clear undercurrent of challenge and threat woven through his tone, refusal to back down flaring bright and hot in your veins. "You don't get to dictate anything to me, Vice Captain," you bit out through a tightly clenched jaw, relishing in stabbing him with his own title right back.

"I don't give a fuck about bruised protocol or your oversized ego — we got the intel that could save thousands of civilian lives, and you're pitching a fit over chain of command? You weren’t even here for the past week." You shook your head slowly, allowing your lips to curve into a sneer of derision that you knew would prick at his notoriously thin skin.

"I didn't realize playing by the rules was more important to Hoshina Soshiro than actually accomplishing the mission," you drawled with heavy sarcasm, feeling a flare of vicious satisfaction as his eyes seemed to swell even darker with unbridled fury.

His jawline flexed sharply as he visibly ground his teeth, tendons standing out in harsh definition beneath the stubbled hinge. For a long moment, the air between you seemed to thicken into a smothering fog laced with static and the acidic taste of pure restrained violence.

Then Soshiro began slowly shaking his head in a subtle negation, the tattered threads of his control audibly shredding apart under the strain. When he finally spoke, the words emerged in a gravelly rasp that seemed to bypass your eardrums entirely and reverberate straight into your very bones instead:

"Ya just don't get it, do ya, sweetheart?" He sneered the affectionate nickname with an acidic twist of mockery, the sound of it slicing through your defenses to draw an instinctive flinch.

"This goes so far beyond yer meaningless authority trips or whatever bullshit glory ya think getting some scrap of half-baked intel means in the grand scheme," Soshiro snarled, leaning in until you could taste the earthy, masculine tang of his anger on each raggedly exhaled word.

"What ya clearly fail to comprehend is that yer stubborn selfishness nearly got every last member of your platoon — your people — killed chasin' some suicidal lapse in judgment." His words were measured yet potent, viciously clinical in their precision and impact.

You felt your eyes widen involuntarily at the blunt accusation, mouth opening to spit some scathing retort and defend your proven capabilities as field commander. But Soshiro barreled on in a tone of thunderous judgment, allowing no room for interruption or deflection.

"You're so caught up in yer own goddamn hubris, always convinced you've got the angles figured out, prepared for everythin'..." His laugh was about as far from humorous as could be imagined — a harsh, barking bark of wry disdain that dripped acid. "Did it ever cross that thick skull exactly how I'd feel getting the call about a squad of glassed corpses thanks to some insubordinate asshole's solo glory play?"

His words sliced straight through to your core, searing their bitter truth across every nerve. Still, you couldn't quite bite back the wounded denial that burst free:

"We made it back clean, no casualties! Your concerns are total unfounded bullshit, Soshiro!"

But that only seemed to be the spark that detonated his final, fraying reserves of patience.

Soshiro moved with liquid grace and unanticipated speed, finally releasing his hold only to redirect his hands in blurring arcs that allowed no counter or evasion. One second you were straining against his restraints, mouth open on another heated rejoinder — the next, you'd been twisted and slammed back against the nearest bulkhead with brutal, jarring force.

The air punched free from your lungs in an explosive gust, leaving you gaping in mute shock at the speed of his assault. Soshiro loomed over you now, forearm braced across your chest in an unbreakable bar of corded muscle and virile strength, one thigh shoved between your splayed ones to lock you in a helpless full-body cage.

"Ya fucking insolent, arrogant brat," he hissed through gritted teeth, trembling with the sheer force of his restrained fury. You could feel every rapacious inhale, every shudder vibrating through him as he struggled to restrain the final dregs of control. "I don't give a damn that ya got lucky, sweetheart..."

Soshiro leaned in closer, eliminating the final precious slivers of personal space until his nose nearly brushed your own, until all that filled your addled senses was the overwhelming musk of his anger surrounding you, consuming you utterly.

"I'm gonna ensure yer willful idiocy never jeopardizes what's mine again," he growled in a tone edged with lethal promise, eyes locked with yours in a final duel of wills. "Startin' by reminding ya exactly who calls the shots around here."

The threat hung heavy between you, tension so thick you could practically choke on it. Your hands were balled into fists, nails digging crescents into your palms with how hard you were clenching them. The urge to lash out, to throw one final barbed insult was almost overwhelming, consequences be damned.

So you gave in, any rational thought consumed by the raging wildfire of anger and adrenaline blazing through your veins. "Fuck you," you spat, putting every ounce of venom and derision you could muster behind the two simple words.

That was it - the final straw that severed his taut grip on control. You saw it in the way his pupils blew wide, swallowing up those blazing crimson irises in a yawning void of heated fury. A harsh breath hissed out between his gritted teeth as his body went taut like a bowstring pulled to its maximum tension.

Then with a feral growl that reverberated straight to your bones, Soshiro surged forward and crashed his mouth against yours in a searing, branding kiss. But it wasn't gentle or tender — no, this was all pent-up aggression and unleashed hunger given free rein.

His teeth nipped at your lips with stinging force, drawing a sharp gasp that his questing tongue instantly occupied. You gave as good as you got, hands fisting in the front of his uniform to yank him closer as you bit at his lower lip hard enough to draw copper on your tongue.

Soshiro's growl transformed into something darker, richer, as your wrestling rapidly devolved into a primal give and take of dominance. Whenever he tried to slant his mouth and deepen the frenzied kiss, you'd buck your hips against his solid weight to throw him off-balance again.

His big hands were everywhere—tangling in your hair to angle your head, skimming over your waist and the flare of your hips, squeezing with possessive force. You could barely draw breath between the slick slide of your joined mouths, harsh pants and lewd smacks mingling in the supercharged air.

This was rawer, messier and infinitely more satisfying than any carefully orchestrated seduction could be. No, this was desire stripped down to its most base, primal core — all pretense and propriety discarded like tattered rags in the wake of you both finally giving in.

When you finally wrenched your mouth free with a gasp, Soshiro's eyes were heavy-lidded and glazed with naked hunger. His lips were reddened and spit-slick, hair awry where your hands had fisted through the strands.

"Ya try that stubborn martyr bullshit one more time, sweetheart," he rasped in that low, gravel-rough tone that never failed to make you shiver. "And next time I won't be playin' so nice..."

Those last three words were practically rolled across his tongue with how much dark, molten promise they contained. You felt a fresh spark of fiery arousal flare brighter at the implicit threat, chest heaving as your lips curved in a smirk of defiant invitation.

"Is that so?" you all but purred, dragging your nails down over the slope of his shoulders deliberately. "I'd pay to see you try keeping that in check..."

The only answer was Soshiro's low, rumbling chuckle as he swooped back in to seal your taunting lips in another searing, messy clash of tongues and teeth and relentless, glorious hunger.

Soshiro didn't waste any more time with words. With a low snarl vibrating against your swollen lips, he banded one powerful arm around your waist and simply lifted, hauling you up against his solid weight effortlessly.

You gasped at the sudden movement, legs instinctively winding around his hips as he pinned you against the nearest bulkhead. Soshiro took full advantage, angling his hips to grind against your clothed pussy with delicious friction that had you keening softly into the heated cavern of his mouth.

"Still runnin' that smart mouth, baby?" he rumbled after dragging his lips away, leaving a hot trail of nipping kisses along the thrumming pulse at your throat. "Need to learn to show some fuckin' respect..."

With that, Soshiro spun on his heel and began forcibly carting you down the corridor like a rutting beast claiming its prize. You didn't bother stifling your breathless laughter at his caveman antics, fingers tunneling through his sweat-dampened hair to yank his head back.

"Put me down this instant, you arrogant, over-muscled—"

The rest of your taunt dissolved into a startled squeak as Soshiro abruptly pivoted and slammed you back-first against the nearest surface. The wind rushed from your lungs in an explosive gust, leaving you blinking stupidly as you refocused on his blazing glare mere inches away.

"You were saying, Platoon Leader?" The way Soshiro all but spat out your title was blatantly mocking. His palm pressed insistently against your sternum as he slowly leaned in, each rasping inhalation gusting across your tingling lips. "Pretty sure it was somethin' about respectin' yer superiors..."

You opened your mouth to fire back a scathing retort, but Soshiro's free hand whipped up to fist in your hair, wrenching your head back at a sharp angle as he sealed his lips over your parted ones in a scorching brand of possession. Any words dissolved into desperate, needy whimpers against the molten slide of his tongue claiming every inch as undisputed territory.

When he finally tore away with a rasping groan, you were left trembling and light-headed from the sheer intensity of it all. Soshiro's lips curved in a slow, predatory slash of dark promise as his free hand skimmed down your side to palm over the curve of your hip with shameless appreciation.

"That's better..." he rumbled in that sinful baritone utterly saturated with sin and naked masculine satisfaction. "Think I prefer having that pretty mouth occupied with better uses for now."

His fingers squeezed purposefully against your flesh in emphasis. You couldn't quite stifle the tiny mewl of purely visceral need that slipped free at the subtle dominance play.

Soshiro tsked softly, somehow managing to layer the simple sound with undisguised derision. "So fuckin' needy, aren't ya baby? Don't worry..."

With that, he ducked his head to rasp the words directly against the heated hollow beneath your ear, sending a cascading shudder of expectant tingles across your hyper-aware nerves.

"I'm gonna take such good care of puttin' that greedy little mouth to proper use once we're somewhere more... private."

The heavy pause and emphasis he placed on that final word resonated straight to your pussy in a thrumming promise-slash-threat. You couldn't even formulate a response before Soshiro's mouth was crashing down over yours once more in a searing, breathtaking conflagration.

This time there was no struggle, no battle for dominance beyond your complete, unconditional surrender. You simply clung to Soshiro with a breathy mewl as he backed you through a doorway, devouring every pleased rumble and husky groan passing between your joined mouths with utter desperation. You caught brief glimpses of passing officers gaping at their Vice Captain brazenly manhandling his girlfriend, but the heat searing through your veins made you utterly uncaring of any scandalized looks.

Something solid bumped against the back of your thighs, not that it slowed Soshiro's relentless advance in the slightest. He simply lifted and deposited you on the awaiting surface without ever breaking the heated exchange.

Then his hands were roaming with purposeful possession — carding through your hair to angle your head for deeper plundering, skimming over the swell of your breasts with sublime friction, palming along the flare of your hipbones to hitch you closer to the edge. You gasped when his questing fingers trailed across the taut fabric straining over your nipples, hips bucking instinctively as his fingertips tweaked and rolled the sensitive buds through the clinging material.

You finally managed to wrench your mouth free with a ragged gasp, struggling to draw a steadying breath. But Soshiro seemed to take that as a challenge, immediately dropping his attention to your throat instead. He latched on to the wildly thrumming pulse point at the curve of your shoulder, his fangs piercing your skin with just enough force to leave a perfect ring of marks.

You couldn't stifle the needy whimper that slipped free at the exquisite combination of pleasure-pain. Soshiro's responding growl sent fresh sparks of tingling heat straight to your aching core, making your hips roll instinctively against the rock-hard bulge of his cock straining his pants.

"You have no fucking clue what that stubborn attitude does to me," he groaned, sounding utterly wrecked already. Soshiro's hips surged against yours with a rough, uncontrolled snap. "No goddamn idea how hard I get hearin' ya mouth off, so fuckin' confident and bratty, like no one could ever dare lay a finger on ya..."

He punctuated the words with a sharp nip at the hinge of your jaw, then a teasing tug on the lobe of your ear. You felt the heat of his smile curve against the heated column of your throat, the bastard.

"Ya like being such a spoiled princess, huh?" Soshiro all but purred, his tone edged with that familiar hint of mocking arrogance that never failed to make your pussy clench in anticipation. "Always gettin' what ya want, how ya want it..."

Before you could even begin formulating a retort, Soshiro had wrenched away and was yanking the zipper down on his pants. You felt your mouth go dry at the sight of his thick, straining cock jutting out proudly from the vee of his open uniform, tip glistening with pearlescent beads of precum.

Your tongue darted out to wet your lips on instinct, and Soshiro's eyes darkened further at the action. His voice emerged in a husky rasp, the sound so deliciously filthy you felt it like a tangible stroke across your skin.

"Well, not this time. I’m about to make good on all those promises to fuck some respect into ya, sweetheart. So go on - open that smart mouth and suck my cock."

His tone was pure sin, dripping with dark promise and filthy intent. You felt your entire body flush with molten arousal, pussy clenching as he fisted a hand in your hair and tugged firmly, hauling you off the desk to kneel at his feet.

"Soshiro, I swear to god, if you think I'm gonna—"

But the rest of your protests died on a strangled gasp as Soshiro all but slapped the heavy length of his cock against your parted lips. The tang of his salty essence flooded your tastebuds, making your mouth water as he gave a shallow roll of his hips and smeared a streak of precum along your cheek.

"Ya can drop the act now, baby," he bit out, voice low and gravelly with raw desire. Soshiro's crimson eyes were nearly eclipsed by the sheer force of his hunger, a muscle ticking along his clenched jawline. "We both know how much of a cockslut you are - ya don’t gotta pretend like you're not dyin' to have this cock stretchin' yer pretty little throat?"

His words sent another surge of arousal through your veins, a rush of liquid heat pooling in your core and leaking from your pussy to stain your panties. You couldn't deny the way your heart stuttered at the way he was looking down at you, the sheer intensity of his gaze searing straight to your soul.

"So go ahead and admit it," he practically growled, giving your hair a yank and thrusting his hips forward to slide his cockhead across your cheek in a humiliatingly obscene display. "You’re nothing but a selfish brat, always needing something to fill up that smart mouth..."

His other hand fisted tighter in the roots, forcing your head back further until your eyes watered and throat worked reflexively. You couldn't suppress the tiny gasp that slipped free at the rough treatment, making his cock twitch against your parted lips in a silent demand.

"Say it, slut," Soshiro ground out, eyes narrowing in warning as they bored into yours. "Ya can’t fool me. Not after I’ve seen exactly how well that pretty little mouth takes my cock..."

The memory of all the times he'd fucked your mouth, the way he'd ruthlessly pinned you down and pumped his cock deep in your throat until tears streamed down your cheeks and you coughed and gasped for air flashed behind your eyes. Just the recollection of how he'd made you choke on his cum was enough to have your thighs clenching instinctively, pussy growing even slicker with each filthy demand.

"Go on, say it." His tone dropped lower, rougher with a hint of warning. "Ya can either do it now, or I'll fuck that disobedient attitude right out of ya the hard way."

With that, Soshiro hauled you up by his grip on your hair until his cockhead bumped against your lips once more, eyes narrowing. A thrill of mingled arousal and trepidation sparked through your veins, sending a rush of molten need straight to your clenching core.

But still, you forced yourself to lift your chin in stubborn defiance, glaring up at him with all the force of your ire.

"Go to hell," you spat with venomous disdain.

You were barely able to smirk in victory before you felt his fingers wrench your jaw open, the sudden movement sending a spike of pain-edged pleasure down your spine. Then Soshiro was slamming his cock between your lips, the force of it nearly choking you with how sudden and brutal the action was.

"That's what I thought," he muttered, but his tone was far from annoyed. If anything, the gravel-rough rasp was laced with a heavy undercurrent of satisfaction and pure, undisguised hunger.

You blinked back the haze of unshed tears as he shoved deeper, not pausing until the swollen tip was nudging the back of your throat and your nose was pressed against the neatly trimmed hairs at the base. Only then did he finally allow himself a ragged groan of pleasure, the sound nearly a sigh of pure relief.

"Ya know, baby, you look so much better like this," he taunted, rolling his hips to slide his cock a fraction deeper before retreating in a slick glide that had you swallowing back a moan. "When you're finally doing what you're best at - taking my cock and shuttin' that smart mouth up..."

Soshiro punctuated his statement by thrusting in again, not pausing as his fingers twisted cruelly in the roots. He kept his pace slow and shallow at first, clearly savoring the way you were struggling to suck him off and breathe around the thick length filling your throat.

He held you there until your vision began to blur and a whine built in the back of your throat, then finally allowed you to suck in a ragged gasp as he drew back. His cockhead was a deep, glistening purple, slick with spit and precum.

You opened your mouth to snark back, but the words died on a breathy gasp as Soshiro fisted his hand in your hair and yanked your head back sharply. A low, husky chuckle rumbled from his chest as he slowly dragged the swollen head along the seam of your lips, his eyes locked with yours.

"So pretty when you cry," he purred, swiping his cock over your lower lip. You couldn't quite stifle the tiny mewl of desperate arousal the action drew, which only seemed to amuse Soshiro even further.

"I could watch ya suck my cock for hours," he mused, eyes flashing darkly as he dragged his free hand over his cock and smeared the precum pooling at the tip across your lips. "But maybe… I'd rather finish in that greedy little pussy, instead..."

Soshiro didn't bother waiting for your reaction, merely tightened his grip on your hair and hauled you up until your legs buckled and you stumbled onto the desk behind you. He crowded in, pushing your thighs wide apart with his own before his hands slid down to yank your uniform down your hips.

You didn't have a chance to even process the fact that he'd stripped you naked in mere seconds, leaving you clad in nothing but the sweat-dampened tank top you wore beneath the uniform. Your mouth went dry as his hands dropped lower, spreading your pussy apart with calloused fingers before ducking his head and pressing his lips against the soaked folds.

"My girl's so ready for my cock, huh?" he purred, the sound almost drowned out by the obscene slurping noise that sounded as his tongue delved into your dripping cunt. You couldn't hold back the whimper of pleasure that escaped at the sensation, and Soshiro responded with a low chuckle.

"Such a sloppy little cunt," he taunted, nipping at the swollen clit until you keened desperately. "All this slick leaking out of you, baby, and I haven't even put a finger inside."

You flushed hotly at the blatant degradation, unable to bite back the instinctive gasp of embarrassment and pleasure. But Soshiro seemed intent on driving the humiliation home, teeth latching onto your clit and sucking hard until you couldn't help bucking against his mouth, desperate for more.

"Fuck," you groaned, tossing your head back as the tension began winding tighter in your core, threatening to snap at any second. "Soshiro, please, I need—"

He pulled back abruptly, the abrupt loss of friction wrenching a strangled whine from the back of your throat. It took all your willpower to peel your eyes open and meet his gaze, and when you did, you felt your core clench at the blatant heat that burned in his gaze.

"Ya think ya deserve my cock after the stunt you pulled today?" he drawled, one eyebrow quirking upward mockingly. "Ya nearly got every member of your squad killed, and yer still so damn cocky about it all. Think ya deserve anything beyond the tip of my finger?"

Soshiro punctuated the question with a single digit, sliding it through your slick folds and teasing it over your hole until you were panting and rolling your hips, desperate for more. "Luckily for you , though, I'm not here to teach you a lesson, baby. No..."

He trailed off as he slowly slid his finger inside, eyes darkening as he watched the way you arched against the desk with a needy whine. He crooked the digit, teasing against your most sensitive spot until your hips bucked and pussy clenched tight, chasing the release he'd so cruelly denied.

"I'm here to fuck some respect into ya."

Soshiro pulled back just as abruptly, and the frustrated cry that left your lips was downright embarrassing. But then his hands were tearing at his uniform, yanking the shirt open and shrugging the material aside until his gorgeous chest was on full display, rippling with each huffing breath.

You watched in mute awe, feeling your pulse skyrocket and pussy clench around the sudden emptiness as he shoved his pants down to pool around his ankles, kicking the clothing aside. He fisted a hand around his cock and tugged, groaning raggedly at the contact.

"I haven’t felt that tight cunt in weeks," he growled, his free hand landing on the table beside your hip with a thud. "Been jerkin' off every night to the memory of this pussy squeezing my cock, but nothing's gonna compare to the real thing..."

He surged forward and sealed his lips over yours in a brutal kiss, swallowing the breathless cry as he lined the fat head up against your entrance and snapped his hips forward. The stretch was delicious, and you couldn't help moaning into his mouth as he bottomed out.

"That's better," Soshiro groaned, breaking away just far enough to speak against your lips. "So much better than my goddamn fist, fuckin' finally..."

He didn't waste any time, pulling back and thrusting in again in a punishing rhythm that had you seeing stars. There was no time for adjustment, no chance to savor the initial feeling of having him buried to the hilt. Instead, Soshiro set a relentless pace, hips pistoning back and forth in a series of deep, measured thrusts.

He broke away from your mouth, and you gasped for breath as his lips blazed a trail down the column of your throat. Soshiro's hands were everywhere, stroking and squeezing and groping at every inch of your body as he fucked you without abandon.

"You’re droolin' all over my cock, sweetheart," he taunted, teeth scraping at the hinge of your jaw. "Bet ya pulled that stunt just to get my attention, huh?"

His voice was a low growl against your throat, lips curving into a smirk against your skin. "Didn't realize ya were so desperate for me, baby..."

"No," you gasped, trying desperately to cling to some semblance of control, some way to regain the upper hand. "I didn't even know you were coming—"

"That's a fuckin' lie," Soshiro spat, snapping his hips harder. His pace was relentless, the thick girth of his cock filling you perfectly with each punishing stroke. "Ya knew I was due back today, knew I'd have no choice but to deal with yer bratty ass myself, and ya pulled that bullshit on purpose..."

He punctuated his point with a particularly sharp thrust, making your breath hitch. Soshiro didn't pause, didn't let you catch a break. He was fucking you into the desk like an animal, and the worst part was — it was working.

"I'm done letting ya pull this shit," he snarled, teeth biting into the slope of your shoulder. The sharp flare of pain sent a fresh surge of liquid heat pulsing from your core. "I'm done letting ya risk your neck every goddamn mission, not knowing if yer gonna come home or wind up in a fuckin' body bag."

His hand landed on your thigh and shoved it wider, the new angle allowing him to sink impossibly deeper. You couldn't choke back the needy moan at the new sensations, the way the heavy slap of his balls against your ass mingled with the lewd squelching noises of his cock slamming into your soaked pussy.

"You became mine the day ya kissed me back," Soshiro ground out, his words a low growl that made your blood run molten in your veins. "And if ya can't keep yourself in line, sweetheart, I'll make sure yer too busy suckin' my cock to go anywhere near the fuckin' field."

His hand tangled in the roots of your hair, twisting to wrench your head back and bare your throat in a helpless arc. Soshiro's fangs descended, the tips digging into the soft flesh beneath your ear as he growled directly against the shell.

"Gonna knock you up if I have to."

You gasped at the filthy words, but they only served to heighten the building sensations. You felt your pussy fluttering around his cock as his hips slapped against yours, his pace growing more uncoordinated as his own peak drew nearer.

"Maybe then ya'll understand exactly why I want to keep you safe, baby." His words were a rasp against your neck, his lips blazing a trail of molten heat against your skin. "Why I can't stand the thought of losing ya, no matter how damn reckless ya are. You're the most stubborn, arrogant, selfish woman I've ever met..."

His free hand dipped between your bodies, teasing along the taut expanse of your belly until it came to rest on your hip. Then he leaned forward, putting his entire weight behind the next thrust, and you cried out as he hit a spot that had sparks dancing behind your eyelids.

"You're also the best — ngh — goddamn thing that's ever happened to me," he finished with a groan, and you were so shocked by the unexpected confession you didn't even have a chance to reply before he was crashing his lips over yours again, stealing your breath and any coherent thoughts along with it.

The next few thrusts had the tension in your core coiling tighter, tighter, until you were practically thrashing against the desk, pinned in place by the force of his strength and the solid weight of his cock stretching your pussy wide. You were close, so fucking close, but Soshiro didn't seem to be showing any signs of slowing down.

In fact, he only seemed to be fucking you harder, with sharper thrusts that were rapidly pushing you toward the edge. You clung to his shoulders, nails biting into the tanned flesh as you whimpered and writhed and struggled to maintain even the slightest scrap of self-control.

"C'mon, baby," he purred, his mouth trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down the arch of your neck. "I wanna feel that cunt milking my cock, sweetheart... Wanna feel ya gush all over my cock while I'm pumping ya full, just like I promised..."

It was too much, his words and the delicious drag of his cock stroking every sensitive nerve ending inside you. You couldn't bite back the sob that slipped free, couldn't hold out any longer as the coil wound to its breaking point.

"Please," you begged, voice cracking and breaking as the sensations overwhelmed you utterly. "Oh god, Soshiro, please, I'm—"

The rest dissolved into a ragged cry as the tension finally snapped, sending you plummeting over the edge. The orgasm hit you like a wave, flooding through your veins with a rush of searing heat as you shuddered and arched against his chest, spraying his cock with a gush of slick as he fucked you right through the pleasure.

"That’s my girl."

You felt Soshiro's groan reverberate against your lips as he thrust once, twice, three more times. Then his hips slammed forward, pinning you flat against the desk as he bottomed out and came with a hoarse, ragged shout of completion.

His cum spurted against your womb in a rush of hot liquid, filling your pussy so full it leaked out around the straining thickness of his cock. You felt yourself clench and pulse around the sensation, riding the aftershocks of your own peak.

Soshiro finally sagged above you, forehead dropping against your collarbone as he panted for breath. You blinked dazedly, struggling to clear the stars still flashing across your vision.

The two of you remained locked together, unmoving save for the erratic rise and fall of your chests. Gradually, you became aware of Soshiro's fingers carding through your hair, smoothing the sweat-damp strands back from your temple as he pressed a trail of soft, gentle kisses along the slope of your shoulder.

When you finally regained enough energy to lift your head, Soshiro was already waiting, leaning in to press a kiss to your mouth that was achingly tender. It was such a sharp contrast to the way he'd manhandled and fucked you mere minutes ago, and the juxtaposition of it all was almost enough to make you dizzy.

You felt him hook an arm around your shoulder to gently ease you upright, keeping his other arm braced against the desk for balance. The two of you were a complete mess, clothes torn and sweat-soaked, and his cock was still half-hard inside you.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

His tone was low, rough, and so, so tender you felt your heart constrict at the sound. Soshiro's expression was soft, almost vulnerable, and he didn't hesitate to cup your jaw and press a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips.

"I mean, besides the obvious." He gave a slight roll of his hips, making you gasp as his cock twitched and pulsed inside your overstimulated pussy. Soshiro chuckled, the sound edged with dark promise.

"I meant what I said earlier," he added, his tone serious as he met your eyes once more. "I don't think I've ever been more scared in my life than when I heard what happened, and that was before I realized what a stupid, selfish little brat I have for a girlfriend."

Your mouth dropped open, and Soshiro immediately seized the opportunity, claiming your lips in a searing kiss. When he finally pulled back, you couldn't stop the small whine that escaped, and his eyes glittered with mischief and pure masculine satisfaction.

"We're gonna be having another conversation about your behavior, though," he continued, his voice dipping lower as his eyes darkened further. "Preferably with a paddle and my belt around your neck. But for now..."

He pulled back, slipping his softening cock from your abused cunt and drawing a whine of disappointment at the loss. Before you could protest, Soshiro was scooping you into his arms and turning to carry you across the room.

"For now," he murmured, pressing his lips to the crown of your head in a soft kiss, "Let's just get ya cleaned up and tucked into bed. And then..."

He glanced down, the look in his eyes making you shiver in anticipation.

"And then I’ll be waking you up in the morning the way I know you love best."

[into-f0lkl0re]

Paige bueckers x reader

warnings: nsfw and my horrendous spelling and grammar inaccuracies (my ap lang teacher would be so disappointed)

not spell checked (i typed this whole thing on my phone( yes i have a computer) )

i hope yall like it

~I don’t got a single problem with provocative~

she had on a mini black skirt with ripped shear tights and doc martins

a yellow lacy tube top with stars in orange and red thread embroidered through out the top little tattoos littered her arms. an outline of a moon on her shoulder. A bow on her upper left arm, a bouquet of flowers above her elbow on her right. tiny stars coated both of her forearms. she was perfect.

~See the bodies, how they burn, it’s just the way it is~

A couple of minutes ago paige was trying to come up with some sort of excuse to tell her teammates why she had to leave this random club but then she spotted her. dancing with who paige assumed were her friends. one hand held a clear plastic cup with translucent light green liquid with a salted rim. paige felt her cheeks heat up. was it always this hot in here? paige forgot why she wanted to leave in the first place.

~ Smoky, dark, crowded room, I need nothing Under pink light in June. I was so cool, but then, all of a sudden You saw me look at you~

The room was filled with intoxicated college students trying to have a night off from the stress of their lives. today had been the last day of finals. school was officially out for the summer. everyone presumably celebrating.

“you’re staring” a voice whispered in paige’s ear

paige jumped almost spilling her drink

nika laughed patting paige’s back

“you’ve been staring at that poor girl for almost 8 minutes”

“is it that obvious?”

“yes extremely” a new voice replies

paige looks down and sees kk laughing with ice

“keep looking at her with that face and your eyes are gonna get stuck like that”

“fuck off”

“oh shit, paige she’s looking at you”

Nika elbows paige’s side.

paige turns and makes eye contact with the golden girl herself

~I burn for you and you don’t even know my name. If you’d asked me to i’d give up everything~

Paige felt her chest contract as the girl leaves the dance floor walking past paige and making her way to the bar while briefly making eye contact again and smiling. once the girl was at the bar she looked back at paige and laughed.

“stop standing there gaping like a god damn fish and go over there dumb ass” ice pushed paige towards the bar

~To be close to you pull the trigger on the gun i have you when we met~

“i’m paige” she almost shouts because of the deafening volume of the music

“i know who you are. Im pretty sure everyone at uconn knows who you are” y/n laughs

“can i buy you a drink?”

“ you don’t even know my name and you’re trying to buy me a drink? you move fast”

“ well what’s your name?”

“y/n and i like dirty shirley’s”

~I wanna be close to you. break my heart and start a fire, you got me overnight just let me be close to you~

“so what’s your major?”

“art history”

“oh what do you wanna do with that”

“i have no fucking clue”

paige laughs leaning her head against the bar holding her chest

“ok what about you? what’s your major?”

“uhm-human development and family sciences”

“ wow that sounds important. what do you want to do with that?”

paige lets out another laugh than sighs

“uh hopefully nothing i really wanna go pro”

“hey uh listen do you wanna maybe get out of here?”

“you read my mind”

~And now your mouth is moving, cinematic timing You pull me in and touch my neck, and now I'm dying~

barely making it through the threshold of paige’s apartment before her lips are on y/ns. tugging on her small tube top for dear life. paige blindly moves them towards her bedroom. they hit a couple walls on the way to their final destination. paige pushes her down on the bed before climbing over y/ns body and reconnecting their lips groaning into her mouth.

~You should be mine for life, I'll be signing

Every dotted line

Chemical override, ultraviolet

You could be mine tonight~

clothes long forgotten. two bodies grasping at each other letting out high pitched sighs and moans. paige’s hands are everywhere. groping her chest, paige slowly makes her way down y/ns body leaving a trail of love bites. taking her sweet time teasing, nipping and kissing at y/ns thighs.

“paige” y/n exhales

“say my name again” paige says again before sucking on her clit

“oh-god paige-please don’t stop”

“don’t worry ma i’m not stopping anytime soon.”

~ and i burn for you and you don’t even know my name

if you asked me to id give up everything to be close to you

break my heart and start a fire, you got me overnight

just let me be~

this was not a request i just thought this would be fun because i have been listening to secret of us on repeat for the past 48 hours

i’m working on an actual request a kk arnold x reader fic which i’m excited for. that should be out soon. i also wanna do a kate martin fic inspired by risk. send requests my way and ideas🙏

big forehead kisses 💕

-faye

[urfavnegronerd]

agape- nicholas britell

summary: miles is takin down ur braids 

published: july 27, 2023

warnings: Grammarly hates me, the patriarchy, a dash of toxic masculinity, miles being a product of that grrah grah boom type masculinity, aave (no im not translating shit for you yall got access to urban dictionary and its not really a warning), i edited it myself so lmk if there are any mistakes

sueñito- little dream, bonito- handsome/ pretty boy, no me importa- i don't care/ it's not important to me

w/c: 1.5 k

reader's black coded cus im black so deal w it <3

i think this something every black boy be needin deep down

“Stop movin, ma” 

“It’s knotty,” 

“You had these in for how long?” 

Silence. 

“There's your answer right there, mama,”  

“Sorry,” 

“Nun to be sorry for, just hold still,” 

Currently sitting on the bathroom floor criss-cross apple sauce, Miles was sitting on the toilet, your head between his knees, while he was taking down the frizzy lemonade braids that barely hugged your scalp anymore. 

“Miles?” 

He hums in response, rat tail comb in one hand, a tub of coconut oil in the other, threading the tail of the comb through the extensions down your back  

“You’re the prettiest boy in all of Brooklyn,” 

“Shut up” 

“Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen,” 

“Nuh-uh,” 

“Fuck you mean ‘nuh uh’? The little freckles all over your cheeks? Cutest things I’ve ever seen, especially how they’re all slightly different shades, like lil polka dots all over your face, gives me a map a’ where to kiss. The little tiny dimple on the left side of your face? Adorable, 10/10, no notes. Also very kissable." He's still now, staring at the back of your head, using bundles strewn over his shoulder, mouth agape. “Them thick and long ass eyelashes? I could stare at ‘em all day, they look like teeny tiny butterfly wings when you rest your eyes.” 

“Shut up,” he whispers, still unmoving, the little dab of coconut oil on his fingers slowly dribbling down his wrist 

“Your mind pretty as hell, too, I like listening to what you have to hear when you let me,” you mumble, pressing tiny kisses into his cargo pant–clad kneecap. 

“Stop doin that shit, ma” 

“What?” 

“Talkin all crazy like that,” 

“I’m not talkin crazy, miles I’m being honest,” 

“You makin me out to be some weak ass lil boy,” 

“Miles.” you turn around abruptly, staring at him dead in the eye. “I’m jus being honest wit you. What's going on?” 

“It’s nothin, ma, turn around”  

“Sueñito. Lemme know what's up,” 

“It’s nothin,” 

You huff, turning around to face the bottom of the sink again. Silence bellows throughout the bathroom, Miles rubbing oil on your braids to detangle them to later drag the comb in once again and throw the discarded hair extension over his shoulder. The only sound between the two of you is the Marvin Gaye spinning on the record player, rooms away, dull basslines thrumming through the apartment. 

“Ion like this,” 

“What?” 

“Whatever jus happened, we talk about what's bothering us,” 

“Ain't nothin botherin me, ma,” 

“Then why you start buggin' the second I get to complimenting you?” 

“Cus ian wit all that girly shit,” 

“Fuck you mean girly shit, I’m jus tryna love up on you Miles,” your nostrils flare as you stare ahead of you.  

“Baby, I’m all for that but–” 

“Miles, did someone tell you boys can't get that?” 

A silence. 

“Baby.” 

“What?” 

“Jus cus you a boy dont mean you don't deserve love,” 

“Aint nobody say allat–” 

“Shut up Ian done,” you say, swiftly turning around and snagging the oil and comb from his hand “jus cus you a boy doesn't mean you don't deserve to feel shit miles. Ion know what it was like wit your last girl, but Ian her. Okay? You allowed to be a person wimme, you know that right?” 

“Ma–” 

“Shut up I still ain't done yet. Miles I’m real, I’m right here. real like you, I promise you I’m not goin nowhere right now,” 

“You done?” 

“Yeah,”  

“C’mere,” he motions to his lap, taking the comb and oil out of your hands and setting them on the tiled floor, laying out the discarded bundles.  

“ ‘s oil all up on my hands” 

“No me importa ma, come up on here,”  

Obeying and wiping the excess coconut oil off your hand, you do. Straddling his lap, and looking into his eyes, examining the twinge of sadness in his eyes. 

“Talk to me, mama,” 

“I want you to know that you deserve love and that you’re allowed to feel some typa way. I want you to talk to me, Miles. I care about you so much and I wanna make sure you’re good. I love hearing you talk, but Ion like havin to beg you to talk to me. I love jus bein in your presence, but I hate feelin like that Miles. I don’t know who told you whatever's going through your head right now but they dead wrong. I wanna know how you be feelin, I wanna know.” 

“Why you even talk like this to me?” 

“Cus I’m your girl, n I like to kiss up on you and love all up on you,” 

At this, he averts his eyes, trying to escape your gaze, his breath audibly speeding up. 

“Mm mm, don't do that Miles. Please breathe,” 

You plead, subconsciously pressing your middle three fingers under his jaw trying to measure his heart rate. Almost as a reflex to hide from you, he shrugs your hand away from under his jaw and pulls his hoodie over his mouth.

“Nah nah, don't hide from me neither,”  

“Ain’t nobody hidin from you,” 

“Jus cus you a boy don’t mean you don't deserve them random ass cuddles, or someone to tie up your durag or wash your hair. It don’t mean you shouldn't get flowers or hugs or them lil hickies behind your ear. Don't mean you not allowed to be sad or mad or wanna cry. Now Ion know who told you or made you feel that way but they dead wrong Miles. You allowed to feel with me,” 

“Ian some lil boy runnin around though, that shit ain't for me,” 

“If you wasn't supposed to feel and acknowledge your feelings, why would you be able to feel them? They there for a reason,” 

Still straddled on his lap, he looks up at you with the tiny leverage you have on him. His eyes are big and doe-like, almost as if he’s scared to make this next step, say this next sentence.” 

“Ion know why,” he mumbles, voice soft and scared. suddenly he’s kissin up on you, gripping anything he can get his hands on, like he’s making up for lost time, lost feelings. It's urgent and a little rough, though his lips are soft and velvety, a twinge of menthol chapstick on them.  

“Yo yo yo, slow down. Ian goin nowhere” you whisper into his mouth, nails gently raking across his neck “ ‘m right here Miles, see?” you ask, guiding his hands to feel on the left side of your chest, right above your heart. “ ‘s my heart under there, I'm right here okay? I’m real, Miles I swear,” 

“You’re real?” he whispers, breath shaky and uneven fisting the thin fabric of your camisole under the evergreen zip-up, in an attempt to feel more of your heart. 

“You allowed to feel your feelings the same way you feel my heart,” 

He still looks astonished, scared, and frozen. suddenly it wasn’t him you were talking to anymore. it was the scared little Brooklyn boy who had all these feelings stored away inside him, unsure of what to do or who to show them to.  

“ ‘m sitting right here miles. I’m your girl, okay? This is real, and you are real,” 

“I’m real?” tears begin to swim in his eyes. 

“You’re real miles. and those feelings in that big heart of yours? Those are real too. And if you let me, I wanna hear all of 'em.”  

His body stills once more against you, a small tear gliding down his cheek. 

“I love you,” 

And then he’s sobbing. 

“Sshh, hey it's okay” you whisper, holding him close to your chest. “I love you so much I can’t hardly breathe when I'm around you. It’s okay and you're okay, Miles. I’m real and this is real and you. You are real.” you mumble into his braids, holding him with the protectiveness of a mother with a small child. 

He just sat there, his head buried in your chest as he cried quietly, letting everything out. You just sat and let him cry and vent through his tears. All the things he had bottled up, discouraged to show to anyone. Sooner or later the tears slow to a stop, his face puffy and hot. 

Gently tugging the ends of his braids, he looks up at you. 

“You feel better sueñito?” you ask, dragging the cuff of your sweater to dry his face and pressing butterfly kisses to his cheeks in its wake. He did nothing but nod lazily, seemingly lighter, and nuzzling his face into your chest. 

“Lemme finish wiping up your face n then you can be all up on me, bonito, okay? 

He just nodded, dropping his head back to rest against the bathroom wall, the half-taken-out braids on your scalp no longer th task at hand. Reaching behind him you grab a baby wipe and swipe the tears and snot off his face, leaving his skin with a glossy finish. Holding his chin up, you look dead in his eyes. 

“You so beautiful Miles.” 

And this time, he nods. 

🩷 reblogs are always appreciated for reach <3

[the-kr8tor]

Im all good to put the ideas into multiple asks! I’m so glad u liked my ideas 🥰🥰!!

First one was TTN hobie and reader when they have reunited and they r going on a date after being separated for so long and just spending time together and hanging out

-🕊️ anon

Ly 😘 thank you again for the ttn requests!! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: no use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader, drinking, a bit suggestive, TTN! Hobie, TTN! Reader, set after the epilogue.

Thread the Needle Masterlist

TTN Oneshots Masterlist

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

"My favourite? Piña Colada" you nurse a cranberry vodka in your hand, voice whispering in Hobie's ear so that he can hear you through the loud chatter inside the busy pub.

Your back is resting on the chipping wooden wall of the ancient White Horse pub, body fully turned towards Hobie, your hand comfortably lying on the small of his back. He practically squishes you inside the booth with his arm around your shoulder, fingers absentmindedly kneading over your nape. Legs touching yours, a smile never leaving his lips, half full pint forgotten in front of him.

He would've preferred a much quieter place for your first date back home, but you wanted to visit his old haunts, and you were in a drinking mood. Hobie doesn't seem to care though, as long as you're with him, he's golden. Even if you suggested going to the sewers or God forbid a Mall, he would've said yes in a heartbeat. Because it's you, fresh from L.A. you who haven't finished unpacking yet even though you've been home for three days. He doesn't blame you though, how could you find the time to unpack when you two are busy snogging and reacquainting yourselves.

"Thank fuck" he chuckles. "Thought it would be worse like a can of whatever piss water they 'ave"

You roll your eyes, "Piña Colada is really good. I can make you one if you like"

"Sure, as long as it's not whiskey sour" Hobie mimics an American accent with his last word causing you to laugh out loud above the prattle of the pub.

"Do that again" you poke his side. "Come on"

"Fuck off, that's a one time thing" he hides his smile with his pint.

"You know back in America I had so many pints, it's insane" He raises a brow, knowing you're not much of a drinker. You continue on with your sentence. "Pints of ice cream"

"Is it too late for you to go back? Because I can ask for you–"

Leaning slightly, you kiss the corner of his lips as an apology for your attempt at humour. "I know, horrible joke. I blame the drink"

"Not the company though, right?" He says against your lips, long eyelashes fanning over eyes, looking down at your besotted face.

"Great company, ten out of ten" you press a cranberry filled kiss fully on his lips, lingering for only a moment. In that tiny booth with the squeaky leather cushions, you feel like you and Hobie are the only people in the world. "What do you say we go home." Whispering, you bat your eyelashes at him.

His eyes sparkle in the low light, "And?"

You don't miss his knowing tone so you decide to tease him more. "Or we can go to my office and ask for me to get transferred back to L.A."

"I like your first joke better, too soon, love" Hobie dramatically touches his chest like he's been hurt.

"You did it first!" You finish your drink, hand grabbing your bag from the table.

"And I did it better than you" Hobie takes your coat for you, standing up, reaching to help you out the booth.

Looking up at him, you smile mischievously. "Do an American accent first"

He rolls his eyes, "no" flexing his fingers, he feigns annoyance.

"Please? Just say one thing and I'll get up"

With a huff and a hidden smile, he surrenders. "Whiskey sour" Hobie does his best impression of an American man who's impatient to get his drink from the bartender.

Giggling, you still sit in the booth. "Say 'wassup, dude'"

"Don't push it, love or I'll start calling you bruv again"

Sliding out, you take his outstretched hand. "If you're into that then I'm open to try it." You laugh at your own quip.

"What have they done to my Gromit?" hand in hand, you and Hobie weave through the crowd whilst he guides you with his tender hold.

You snuggle closer to him, avoiding a guy with ten drinks on his tray. "Same Gromit, I promise"

"Love you still even if you weren't" He whispers back with fondness.

[bullet-prooflove]

Mi Reina (NSFW) - Angel Reyes x Reader

Tagging: @witches-unruly-heart @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @the-wandering-lunatic @anime-weeb-4-life @vannabanana1995 @multifandomloversworld @harperdoodle @queeniesdiary @laylasbunbunny @est1887 @briefpersonenemy @lilvampirina @creativitybeware @genius2050 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @nu1freakshow @oureternalbond @rubes2323 @sclitvdes @samanthaofanarchy

Your first time in Angel’s bed doesn’t go as he expects. He had the full intention of laying you down, spreading you out and teasing every inch of you. He’s been yearning to get his hands on you since that night in the Buick, he’s eager to learn, to play, to explore.

However, you manage to turn the tables. He finds himself on his back amongst freshly laundered sheets, your thighs straddling his hips, pinning him in place as you take your time with him.

It starts with his mouth, lips brushing over his in slow, heated kisses that leave him craving even more. Your tongue dips into his mouth, sweeping over his as you cup his face between your palms, thumbs smoothing over the curve of his cheekbones. It’s the most sensual experience he’s ever had. 

His usual interactions with women are fast paced and rough, nails scratching, teeth biting. The pain, he uses it as a method of chasing away the darkness that resides inside of him. With you, it’s different, you slow it down, draw it out, you savour each of these moments, he feels as if they’re as precious to you as they are to him.

Your hands thread through his hair, tugging just lightly and he grunts into your mouth as he bares his throat. Submission doesn’t come naturally to him, but it does with you, there’s vulnerability in the action and he knows he’s safe in your hands.

“My Angel.” You smile against his lips as you look into those gorgeous dark eyes of his.

Yea, he’s yours, he’s been yours since the moment you ruined him in the back of that Buick.

You start as you mean to go on, with warm, delicate fingertips that map over the outline of his tattoos and lips that seek out all of those deviant little areas that make him moan. You discover places even he didn’t realise existed, the inside of his forearm, the hollow of his hip. When you bite down just a little, teeth grazing that sensitive space, he lets out a sound he’s never made before as his hips buck and his dick leaks.

You ignore the main attraction, your breath ghosting over it before you delve lower, peppering his thighs wish a thousand tiny kisses. He finds he likes the firmness of your grasp when you part them just a little, tongue tracing silken circles that make his breathing hitch.

Your thumb traces over the ragged scarring above his right knee, caressing the shape of it with a gentleness that has him stifling a whimper. His previous lovers have always shied away, an ugly blotch on the landscape of his flesh, from where he’d come off his bike a couple of years ago. Your fingertips follow the pattern of the scar tissue as if you’re committing it to memory. He wants to touch you, even if it’s just to anchor himself, because what you’re doing right now it frightens him, he feels exposed and vulnerable. You see the things that he doesn’t show anybody else. His hands trace over your shoulders, fingertips trailing over the ink on your flesh. His palm caresses the nape of your neck as you tilt your head to look at him.

“You’re safe with me.” You whisper against his skin.

And he believes you, you might just be the only person he does believe when they say those words.

He’s relaxed and pliant by the time you return to his mouth. His kisses are greedy and languid, his hands tangling in your hair as he drinks you in. Your skin pressing against his, it’s the sweetest fucking feeling. His cock is rock hard, pre come trailing down the tip.

“How are you feeling?” You check in with him.

You clasp his jaw between your fingers, guiding his face so that you could look into those fathomless dark eyes of his.

“Good.” He mumbles, his head tipping back into the pillow as your thumb chases over the stubble that’s stipples across his cheek. It feels like he’s pussy drunk and you haven’t even gotten there yet. “Wanna taste you.”

Your fingers delve between your legs, coating the tips with your wetness. You smear it across the shape of his lips, his tongue traces over them before he opens his mouth, drawing your fingers inside.

“More.” He pleads when you withdraw them. “Fuck I need to get my mouth all over that sweet pussy of yours.”

He helps guide you into the position he wants you in, thighs either side of his face as his hands grasp you waist and pull you down onto his mouth. The musky scent of your arousal makes his cock fucking ache. He presses his face even deeper into your cunt and it is fucking heaven. You let out a sharp cry as his lips enclose on that ripe little bud, drawing it into his mouth, tongue flicking over it. You’re so fucking sensitive it drives him crazy, the way you tighten, the way your breath comes out in short, punctured gasps as he chases your pleasure, it’s enough to leave him wrecked.

That’s it mi reina, he thinks, ride my fucking tongue.

“Touch yourself,” You request at the height of it all. “Show me how much you’re enjoying this.”

He wraps his hand around his cock, thumb smearing precum over the tip and down the head before he thrusts into his palm. It feels good, so fucking good, being surrounded by you, getting off while he chases your pleasure. He moans into your pussy, it’s a hoarse guttural sound, one of complete abandonment.

When you come, you gush, grinding down on his mouth, fingers gripping his hair. The sound that tears from your throat is so fucking loud, he thinks it’s going to wake up the whole neighbourhood. He doesn’t give a shit though because he’s coming harder than he’s ever come in his fucking life. His hips stutter as it spills out of him, his chest heaving because the ecstasy it explodes out of him, tearing through his nerve endings like a God damn IED.

It takes you a minute to catch your breath, you laugh at the exhilaration of it all.

“I’ve never done that before.” You tell him, fingertips stroking through Angel’s hair before you climb off him. You look wrecked, your cheeks flushed apricot pink, your eyes bright and vivid. He’s never seen anything so beautiful.

“Don’t leave alright?” He requests, his hand capturing yours.

You can see how much it means to him, how much it costs him to make that request because vulnerability it doesn’t come easy to Angel. It never has.

“I won’t.” You promise, squeezing his hand. “I’m just going to clean you up a little, take care of you Angel.”

“Nah, you don’t need to do that.” He tells you, propping up himself up on his elbows.

“I know.” You tell him leaning in close, your lips brushing over his. “But I want to.”

Love Angel? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[barbiecrocs]

Irresistible

Gojo Satoru

tags! cheating(you), phone sex, dirty talk, no piv(only describing it), praise

WC. 2283

Barbie's note... Yall im not even gonna come up with an excuse for why i have posted in so long. just enjoy the story:>

Damn, he misses you. He misses you so much, so much that he's been scrolling on your page for an hour and a half. It's common sense that he shouldn't believe everything that he sees on the internet or take it at face value, but it's only been a week since the break up and you've been acting so carefree and unfazed. You've posted a month's worth of bikini pics in such a short time period. This must be a revenge scheme and it was lowkey highkey working. He was pissed. The dozens of skimpy bikini pics with your friends. The friends that always encouraged you to go against his wishes and wear slutty round whore clothes.

 A shot of you tucked into a baby pink and white striped bikini that covered nothing but your pierced nipples. One bounce and they'd pop out, no, one breath and the whole thing would rip in half. How dare you wear that out in public? How dare you show off what belongs to him? The whole swim set could double as a long thread of floss. 

 The caption reads, "Hot girl summer with Dontae."

 He feels a blood vessel in his head nearly pop as his eyes drag across that sentence. He doesn't know a Dontae, so who the fuck is Dontae? The next picture was a selfie. Your camera was aimed high above your head making the baby doll eyes that always got you what you wanted very prominent. A cute and innocent smile playing on your face as you threw up a peace sign. The white cami that sat on your chest was tight and thin, leaving nothing to his imagination. Your thighs pressed together, basically swallowing the little triangle that was cover in your swimsuit bottom.

He swipes again, arriving at the second to last pic. It's an over-the-shoulder video of who he assumed this "Dontae" guy was. He's seen fluffing your butt and using it as a pillow. "Donnie, you are so funny." You giggle. Once he notices that you're recording he covers his face and plants it in the crevice under your ass. "Rate the softness." You clench your cheeks above his head as he gives you a thumbs up. 

Gojos' jaw clenches with jealousy, anger, and anything else that screams he doesn't like seeing you with someone else. Someone else touching what's his.  

God, he really fucked up with all the jealousy and possessiveness. Because now it seemed like you were glowing once you left him. All these photos of you dolled up just the way he liked it. The date night posts with light makeup, hair and nails done, and a beautiful evening gown. A silk white maxi dress that hung low around your breast, but hugged all your curves perfectly. A dress that you wore for him once upon a time.

 A dress that he loved to peel off of you in the privacy of your house. His lips would be locked with yours as he backs you onto the bed with a tiny bounce. A dazed look plastered on your face as you shuffled farther up the bed. For every scoot backward, he'd step closer on his knees. "Does towering over me make you feel big and bad?" You'd say, your back hitting the headboard, signaling that you backed yourself into a corner. "No, it makes me hard." He'd say, before dragging you closer by your ankle, and stripping off your dress. Then he'd take care of all your needs before using your body for himself.

 The uncomfortable tightness in his pants pulled him out of his thoughts and reminiscing. It's not a surprise, but he's hard. What else would he be when he's thinking about fucking you every which way? A heavy sigh leaves his lips when he rubs the space between his eyes. It's not like he has to take care of it, he could leave it alone, but where's the fun in that. You know, he could turn this little situation into something he doesn't have to enjoy alone.

 He sits up slowly, letting the blood in his body even out, more of it pumping into his erect cock than anything else. He looks down at the tent in his pants, conflicting thoughts circling his head. A tiny angel Gojo on one shoulder telling him to move on and that this action is naughty. On the other shoulder was a tiny devil Gojo telling him that there was no harm in it. To be honest, he couldn't care less about what the tiny gojos said because who does his good side think he is. He's never been the one that would be opposed to being a little naughty. So, why shouldn't he give you a call and show you the problems you caused.

— —

 "Babe. Can you make some more popcorn? If you miss anything important I'll tell you." You say, handing your boyfriend a greased up bowl that once had kettle and butter popcorn in it. "Try mixing cheddar and caramel corn this time." You turn around on the couch to watch the rest of the movie, but before you can refocus, your phone starts ringing. You lazily slide it off the table, looking at the unsaved but familiar number. "Hey, I thought we said no phones today. You're always on it."

"I'm sorry baby. I gotta take this real quick."

"What? But who is going to tell me what's happening in the movie?" You rush upstairs to the bathroom regardless of his complaints and concerns. You shut the door before locking it and toss your phone on the marble sink. 

"Um, hello? Who is thi-"

"Y/n-"

 His taunting voice reaches your ears and you hang up immediately, chills running up and down your spine. Your plan worked. He called you, your ex Gojo. Either he fell right into your trap or he caught on. He calls back and you pick up, giggling in his face. "Oooooh, you think this is funny? You must know that I'm nursing a hard-on right now." You can imagine him laid out on his bed, legs spread, phone held to his mouth with one hand and the other palming or stroking his erection.

 "Hmmm, I don't know. That seems like a you problem." You take joy in knowing that if he was here with you right now, he'd bend you over his knee like a bad girl for sassing him. "More like a problem you caused with those damn near naked pics." He hisses.

 "So you've been stalking my page?" 

 "Oh don't play dumb, it doesn't look good on you. You know what you're doing and I know that you avoided blocking me for a reason. You want me to see you in these skimpy outfits with this rando. I'm not dumb. I'm more than just a pretty face, Y/n." He hisses out once more.

 You roll your eyes at his insults and focus on the one unnecessary part, "Who said you were pretty?"

 "You, when you were hanging onto my hair for dear life while screaming about how I was your pretty boy who fucked you beyond imaginable." Your legs squeeze together as you think back to the said time. "Does that ring any bells or should I go on?" Of course it does, but why let the banter end now? You're already deep into this. Why not go deeper? Before you speak, your hand lifts up your skirt and slides your panties off. "I think you should go on." You circle your clit, muffling an airy moan. "Really, now? How about the time where I was tongue deep in that pretty pussy while you rode my face, hm? Begging your pretty boy for extra seconds, when you were basically suffocating me by rolling your hips an endless amount of times. I'd double tap your thigh for air, but you roded for an extra three seconds because it was so good. Maybe even too good. My breaks were short too, only four or five breaths before you plopped back down for another 20-30 seconds. Does that ring any bells?" Your legs fall open wider as you relax and think about his head between your legs. Suddenly gaining the urge to shut them when you find the perfect rotation on your clit. 

"Hmmm, I don't remember that either." A moan escapes your mouth at the end of your sentence. You quickly cover your mouth hoping that your silence would reverse your actions. "Oh princess, there's no hiding that. Are you touching yourself? Naughty girl." Heat rises to your cheeks, "You have no right to tease me! I know you're doing it too!" You hide your face in your arms even though he can't see your flustered expression. "Lemme see." His voice is deep and low as your head shoots out of your arms. "What…What?"

"You heard me. I said, "Show me". I wanna see you stuff that pretty pussy."

 Your boyfriend was downstairs waiting for you to finish your movie night and here you are on the phone with your ex, touching yourself, wishing he was here with you. The angel and devil on your shoulder bicker about what's right and wrong and what you should do. Yeah, you have a boyfriend, but… you also have Gojo. There isn't much thought behind your decision, "Oh, such a pretty pussy. Is all that schlick for me? I'm honored." He snickers. You're silent for a couple of beats, really feeling the guilt before shaking it off. Your knees come together, shutting your legs to show him that you weren't gonna continue yet. "I wanna see you too." 

 There is absolutely no hesitation before you hear the slow sound of his zipper coming down and some rustling from the other side of the phone. "Fair enough." Is all you hear before his camera turns on and he tugs his underwear a little lower than his balls. "Like what you see, doll? You miss this big dick? How the tip would slide up and down your wet folds, teasing you until you begged for it." His voice is low and rough before he spits in his palm and uses it as lube to stroke his length. You spread your legs, finding the perfect rotation on your clit again as you prop your phone on the tissue stand across from the toilet you were sitting on. "God I miss that perfect pussy so much." His head falls back toward the headrest of the couch, starting his slow and vertical strokes on his cock. Something inside of you snaps as you watch him stroke himself just to the mere thought of you. Only then do you fully reciprocate his desire, "She misses you too. I miss you. I want you." Your voice has a sultry tone to it with an ounce of desperation as your hands greedily speed up in motion on your aching bundle of nerves.

 "Shit, you should have let me know sooner. I can make all of your wants reality, just say the word." From the way that he goes silent, hanging onto the emptiness in the air, he must be expecting you to say something. Something similar to granting him permission to come over and fuck you like he'll never see you again. "Gojo, we can't." His strokes slow as disappointment takes over. "I'm at my boyfriend's house." There's a sliver and sadness and hesitation in your voice, just saying that sentence makes you feel dirty. Knowing that you have a boyfriend yet you're here entertaining your ex. You could try to come up with an excuse to make yourself feel better and push all accountability off your shoulders, but there isn't one. Your boyfriend isn't mean, controlling, or possessive so why would you do him so dirty? That was a question you didn't want the answer to for numerous reasons.

 "Oh naughty girl. Cheating on your boyfriend with your ex? Kinda makes me wonder if you cheated on me before." 

 There is no hesitation whatsoever, "Of course not." It's very clear where your priorities stand. Oh who are you kidding, you only went out and got a new boyfriend to make Gojo jealous. You guys were on a break technically, but he decided that he would talk to other girls so you did the same. Maybe you got a little sidetracked with this mini-quest and actually planned on giving it up for him. Today was supposed to be that day, "We were supposed to fuck today, but then you called." He tsks, "Glad I did. Don't you ever give up what's mine, you hear me?" You nod, too busy entertaining yourself to talk. Everything was moving so fast the conversation, your rising orgasm and the minutes ticking by until your boyfriend decided to drag you back downstairs, but would come to the realization that you were cheating on him. "To hell with him, why don't you come over here? I'm just aching to fuck you." He speaks before he thinks and there are a couple beats of silence before you respond. A pathetic please hanging on the tip of his tongue. "Okay." He half expects you to have an argument behind that one word or anything else, but by the looks of it you were aching just as bad as he was. You dreadfully moved your hands from your aching clit, your orgasm was right around the corner, but so was Gojo so you could stick it out for him. He's amazed at how fast you cleaned up, made an excuse, and kissed your boyfriend goodbye. Before he could make a comment on it, you were whipping around in your car and telling him that you'd be there in five then ended the call.

[xamaxenta]

SPRAYS BLOOD EVERYWHERE GIRL MAS AGAIN I CANT HANDLE IT........... IM THINKING ABOUT THE COWGIRL/CHEERLEADER AU AGAIN BECAUSE ALWAYS THINKING ABOUT HUUUUGE JUGS MILFY MARCO. SHE WEARS A BUTTON UP AND JEANS AND HER ARMS HAVE NO BUSINESS BEING THAT MUSCULAR, HOW DOES HER ASS LOOK SO GOOD SHE ONKLY EVER WEARS COWBOY BOOTS OR SANDALS. LONG DARK BLONDE HAIR STARTING TO GET THOSE SHINY SILVER THREADS IN IT... FADED SAILOR TATTOOS ON HER BICEPS.... HER NEAT AND WELL KEPT HANDS . SWEAT IS POURING DOWN MY FOREHEAD

also sabo debate team princess star cheerleader with the blondest hair and bluest eyes and pinkest lips, shes all willowy and lean but with the sultriest hips and she Knows It, she chews and pops bubblegum because she KNOWWWSSS it makes people stare. sabo gets anything she wants free drinks free real estate people will risk it all for her and she will take it all , turn around and go ace!!!!! look what i found :3

ace is like a gother version of the Cookie Monster Pajama Pants Girl. shes SMOKIN hot , GREAT rack FAT ass NO bras she does NOT give a shit. she wears a lot of casual skater clothes but she also wears some of the most obscene sexy goth gear imaginable. shes only a cheerleader because sabo is too and they had to ban her from any contact sports because she kept breaking people

maybe this is a college au idk im a degen and Need to have young bunnies acesabo scrambling over milf marco maybe she runs the equestrian team idfk . but my god acesabo. theyre THE hottest couple on campus like they are everyones lesbian wet dream and they absolutely know it and use this to get away with some of the worst innapropriate pda imaginable. sabo sitting casually in outside eating area in her cute mean girls esque little outfit when ace struts up in her tiny black and red plaid miniskirt and torn stockings and knee high boots with so many stupid buckles and the CHOKER, a fat studded leather one , ace just plops herself right down in sabos lap straddling her and sabo shamelessly slides her hands right up the back of aces thighs and grabs her ass, you can TOTALLY tell ace isnt wearing panties. theyre that couple basically frenching in public and theyre so gross but also everyone is too turned on to force them to stop . people try to join "ahaha looking for a third?" "plenty of this to go around if you wanna share 😏" and they are knowm for just the most BRUTAL, NO MERCY turn downs. they do it just because they love the attention and love playing hard to get, and then they love MARCO because their antics DONT WORK ON HER???? impossible. quickly ace we must make out harder.

ive never been into ponyplay in my life but imagining marco putting those metal mouth bridles on acebo and tugging them around like that in her cowgirl getup, acebo with matching red marks on both asscheeks peeking out from under their skirts from marcos flogger........ i need to lay down before i bleed out

As always a fucking banger i have no notes this is all i wouldve wanted to say

I fucking love hyper femme Sabo and her goth gamer gf Ace and how slutty and wanton they are for Miss Marco thee Stallion 😭❤️

[whumpshaped]

I just read your tiny whump academia drabble and 👁👁 boy oh boy do I love little guys being crushed very near to the point of death where they think their bones are bending but I also started thinking hey, i wouldn't continue to trust such a small and wiley pet in a shoebox even if he is a puny nerd, I think the only way to soothe my worries about an escaping little mouse is to make sure it cant move at all shehfh- Or put it in a cute little leash and harness like a domestic rat :3 specifically a retracting leash so you can yank him back with no effort, and it makes them easier to show off for some friends or benefactors~

OKAY UM. OKAY. LET ME GO INTO A WHOLE RANT ABT THE POISONED IVY TINY AU.

tw some nsfw talk, tiny whump, bullying, academia whump, dehumanisation

so idk if u know the context for the story, but bryce is basically blackmailing nate already. nate is being mercilessly bullied and exploited by him in private, while in public nate basically "joined bryce's friend group". bryce has some compromising photos of nate that hes holding over nate's head and basically forcing him to do all of his schoolwork instead of his own to ensure 1. he doesnt have to work much 2. nate cant keep up his own first place on the college leaderboard academically. bc bryce used to be outperformed by him in just this one aspect, and he thought hm... two birds, one stone

so yeah theres already an insane power dynamic going on when nate shrinks. and bryce is like holy fucking shit this is amazing. yes i'll have to go back to doing my own schoolwork but u know what i came to love even more than not working? bullying nate. and then another aspect of it is that..... how do i say this. turns out bryce has a kink for this sort of thing and now hes just horny. theres rly no better way to phrase this. hes not even gay but hes looking at tiny nate and hes suddenly very horny abt the prospect of this helpless little creature who also happens to be his ex academic rival who was already helpless- u get the picture. i wont go into detail but that has consequences. anyway bryce is obsessed w tiny nate. he also has immense cute aggression! hes restraining himself from crushing nate's tiny bones 24/7.

moving on, this also means bryce is incredibly possessive. he's not gonna show it off to anyone, because honestly he already reported nate missing and he doesnt need anyone trying to steal nate or whatever. what he does is he keeps nate in his pencilcase for a while until he can go out and get a little custom glass box with a detachable lid. its very nice <3 it has some padding at the bottom, tissues and cotton and cloth, whatever bryce could find. tiny food and water bowls are separate and never placed in the box, because controlling when and how nate eats and drinks is another aspect he enjoys a lot. the box is shoved in the closet whenever someone comes to visit.

that being said bryce looooooves to mess w nate, looooooves to mess with immobilising him completely w clear tape for example. very fun stuff. loves how exposed and vulnerable nate is. im sure he also makes little DIY harnesses and collars and stuff, basically just imagine him tying some thread or cloth around nate and yanking him around by it. dangling nate from high places it also fun bc he has a fear of heights. the closet is also fun in itself bc nate Also has a fear of the dark! and bugs. which leads bryce to pick up earthworms and shit and lock them in the glass box w nate. hes a menace and he loves tormenting nate so so much.

but at the end of the day bryce doesnt want to kill or seriously harm nate physically. if he threatens a knife or smth, he never rly goes thru w it. maybe the lightest little scrapes. but he mostly stays away from that. hes also afraid nate will one day turn back to normal and he doesnt want a full sized nate running around without an arm or smth. (he does eventually turn back btw but by that point hes so afraid and so conditioned and bryce has told him so much abt how everyone has moved on that hes just like...... ok. i guess i only have u bryce. sure i'll stay in the closet all the time hidden away until you graduate and can take me with you to your cool new house. its ok i'll stay soulless and very obedient as always.)

bryce treats nate like a toy, and nate never gets over it. nate already felt quite dehumanised and humiliated and small and powerless when he was normal sized. going thru that ordeal being tiny and violated and hurt in so many ways just cements it in. he feels like property, he feels like a toy, he feels like he doesnt have a life outside of being bryce's thing. and he rly doesnt. whenever bryce isnt playing w him, hes locked away in a dark place that makes him feel afraid and claustrophobic and honestly as horrible as bryce is, he doesnt have any other sort of life than the hours bryce spends actively teasing and bullying him.

[nelapanela94]

AGGHHH I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND THANK YOU FOR THIS!! Congratulations on hitting 1k 🥹 you truly deserve it💜💜💜 your writing never fails to leave me and so many incredibly happy☺️🫂❤️‍🩹 or sad if it's angst hehe but overall everyone enjoys your writing :)

If you want to of course can you please consider prompts 1 and 28? IM SORRY IF THAT SOUNDED RUDE, I DONT KNOW HOW TO ASK THINGS LIKE THISS😭 BUT ONLY IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO OF COURSE

Thank you so much, Jasmine!!! Your words mean a lot to me <3 thank you thank you thank you!!!

WC: ~1k TW: fluff, enemies to lovers, ft. Hange-san. 1. “Are you blushing? Disgusting” 28.“When will you shut up and kiss me?”

With disdain, Levi’s eyes dawdle over you. Reeking of horse shit mingled with sweat, you shoot him a scornful glance, squeezing hard the sponge inside the bucket, counting to ten and refraining from tossing it at his crafted-by-angels face.

“What do you want?” You snap and groan to your feet. Your duties of the day roll down your face in the form of beads, your clothes speckled with patches of soapy water. You flick away a strand of shiny hair of your forehead and turn around; threads of sullied water fall on the muddy ground, your palms burning around the wringing sponge.

“I’m just supervising.” He nonchalantly says as he sweeps a finger on the railing of the barn doors and rubs it against his thumb. He tchs and swipes his gritty finger pads on his handkerchief. “You have to go through this again.”

“If you doubt my job, do it yourself then!”

“Can't. Paperwork.”

Smoke comes out from your ears as you spin on your heels; your gazes collide, your eyes warred a silent argument. His brows are puckered in a scowl, and you wish you could rub those wrinkles away with your thumb.

“Fucking go and leave me alone before smash a ball of horse shit on your face.” You jab a finger to his chest, his eyes flare, and a vein pops on his strained neck. What would it be like to pamper that curve with kisses?

Inwardly you smack your head for your weakness and call to mind why you hate him. Your fury, incandescent, blazes through your veins, swelling the tiny vessels under your cheeks.

He clasps his hand around your wrist, quivering, and a cold tingling creeps through your fingertips. Your trembling gaze scoots from his eyes to your hand back to his eyes; you pull to extricate from his grip, but he is unyielding.

He’s too close, too close, touching you, you’re afraid he might catch the erratic beating of your heart.

“Are you blushing? Disgusting.” He rucks up his face, as if he was touching dung, and hurls your hand away.

You blink twice, flummoxed as anger bubbles within you again. Your fists clench, and every inch of your tense.

Is he really that stupid, or is he only pretending?

“It’s sweltering and I’ve been raking the floor all morning!” You cry and push him off your way. “Asshole, asshole, asshole!” Your steps rumble as you storm out of the stables, tears peppering your eyelashes.

A horse neighs.

Levi’s eyes are hooked on your back until you disappear into the building.

He’s ruined it again, and now he’s certain you hate him.

Why is it so hard? Why does he have to make things so complicated? Why can’t he let things flow?

You sprinkled fairy dust on his heart and now it beats out of tune whenever you come around. And his brain, to protect him, must leash it back in place before he does something stupid. The only way he knows how is by being cold, tactless, and blunt.

He wants you; he’s never craved someone so fervently. He’s filled with a deep longing to coalesce with your skin, to feel your warmth wrapping him, shielding him from any harm. To find comfort in a late-night talk over a cup of tea; to cling to you; to feel your hands talking and manifest deep adoration. But like the tines of a rake, something scrapes and scrapes at his mind. Something that reminds him why he should keep people at an arm’s distance including you.

Especially you.

But if his brain and his heart don’t team up, he’ll lose his marbles.

His shoulders fall, and the thick defenses he has built over the years begin to crack.

“Don’t tell me you were your asshole self.”

An arm slings around his shoulders, and a frown mars his face.

Levi flinches away and folds his arms. “Asshole is a relative term.”

Hange sighs. Then a grin lights their face, eyes concealed behind the glint of their lenses. “How can you be so blind?” They pat his shoulder and trundles off before Levi gets the chance to ask what they’re talking about.

What is it that he cannot see. What is that he is refusing to see.

*

A long bath is what you needed to release the steam of your system, melting him away from your thoughts. But it only takes a few seconds before the pieces of his dry, unflappable face materialize again.

Your lilac tent dress billows around your knees with every spin, and on the mirror, you catch the wink of the golden hoops. You slip on your Adelaide boots, untangle your hair, and dab cocoa butter on your lips.

Levi wasn’t going to shroud your day with gray clouds.

Your door thuds close and with your book under your arm, you saunter to the library building.

“Oi!”

You jerk and stop dead in your tracks. First his face, now his voice-

Too real. The volume, pitch, rhythm, pacing. Each wave and turn.

“Oi, Y/N!”

The volume swerves to the ceiling, and you swivel around. It couldn’t be product of your imagination. “What do you want?” You tilt your head, one eyebrow lifted stressing that question mark.

He stops two feet away from you, and your heart leaps to your throat. He’s too close, too close his energy raptures the wires of your self-control.

“I… uh…” Gulp. He scratches the side of his head, averting his gaze. “Well, I…” Levi is losing it, all his braincells rioting while his heart pounds with frenzy. His face heats all the way to the tip of his ears. You look so beautiful in that dress—he already thought you were pretty in your uniform coated in sweat after a training session. Now you eclipse every star in the sky.

He's reduced to stuttering mess, unable to string more than two syllables together. If only you knew half the thoughts that go through his head when it comes to you, you would have put in for a transfer already. To the Garrison or worse, to the MP.

“That’s why you shouldn’t mix bleach with muriatic acid, it burns your brain cells.” You jab your fingers to the side of your head repeatedly, and then drop your fist. “You’re wasting my time.”

Your mouth moves, shaping vowels, but Levi’s surroundings have fallen into a dead silence. Whatever you're barking, the waves don’t go past his eardrums, and it’s better that way, because by the look in your face, I mustn’t be flattering. His eyes fix on your glossy lips, and he wonders what they would feel like moving against his, what you taste like.

Two steps closer, he grabs you by your shoulders frustrating your escape. His jaw is set tight, teeth grinding; his heart batters out of control, pumping more blood through his system which sets in fire every inch of his body.   

“When will you shut up and kiss me?” he bellows, pulling the reins of your prating.

First a shrill, like a boiling kettle, then his ears sharpen.

He expects a whack on the head with the spine of your book.

But it never comes.

You cock your head to the side, scrunching your face with skepticism, a blush infesting the apples of your cheeks.

“Say that ag—”

His lips collide on yours and the floor rumbles before you’re swept off. Time freezes; the world shrinks. Two blinks. Your eyes snap, then shut tight, and all the tension dwindles, breaking through your skin in the form of goosebumps. Tickles swarm your lower belly; they pour out in an all-consuming energy that obliterates and soothes at the same time. His hands on your face, holding as to never let go.

A weak linger of chocolate. When you kissed him back all worries and pain faded, your lips, softer than anything he’s had before, dance and mold to his as if they were destined to each other. Strawberries in summer; silk against the skin. He just found a new vice. He feels your hands meandering over his chest, shy, hesitant on where to touch, gauging his limits.

He pulls apart, his warm breath brushing your dewy lips. He presses his forehead on yours and slowly opens his eyes, a silly smile tugs at the corners of his lips, like a teenage boy who’d just kissed the girl who steals his thoughts. A tender kiss, a treasured first kiss. The kind of kiss that you don’t want to tell aloud.

The book is crumpled at your feet.

You blink, and Levi scans your every reaction. The flit of your lashes, the ruddiness on your cheeks; your calming breathing. And when you smile and that spark flares in your eyes, it swaddles him, a lulling feeling that everything will be all right.  

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[intoloopin-archive]

MAKE BELIEVE IT'S HYPER REAL.

starring: Lee Hanjae, Im Yoora; featuring: mentions of Fukunaga Haruki, Jeon Heejin, fellow LOOPiN and Hashtag members; set in: Mid September, 2022. word account: 5,401 words. tws: none that came to our notice!

author's notes: 1. Yoora belongs to the amazing, talented, brilliant Amber, and can be find at @hshtag​ alongside all of her show stopping bandmates! This piece was originally a thread we did together over Discord, which was a first (successful attempt of making that format work, lkkdj) for me. I’d like to use this space again to thank her for making this experience fun, and for being so patience with me as always! Other then that, the uhze: 2. English is not my first language, and it might show to a native speaker or someone who’s more fluent then I am. I tried my best to iron this piece out, but if any grammatical errors flew over my head, I hope they don’t ruin the overall experience. With that out of the way, have a good read!

Hanjae sets the phone tripod at the center of the room more or less at the height of his chest – which totally isn’t housing a heart beating like a drum –, and tries his best to not let it slip through his fingers – that very much aren’t shaking like a leaf – when he takes his cell phone out of his back pocket and opens the front camera. He raises his head – which, for the record, absolutely doesn’t feel like it’s going to explode with a migraine at any minute – just to find his undeniable meek reflection all over the mirrored walls of the Melody Media practice room already looking at him, his two restless eyes just right there, obvious for Yoora to see, and point at, and comment on.

Drying his palms on his jeans, Hanjae mutes the thought and turns around at her. He says, with a tiny smile that feels terribly wobbly on his face, “All done. We can, you know, do the thing. And by the thing, I mean– the dance thing, that we planned, which is why I’m here. Ha. All done for that.”

He coughs, just to make up an excuse to shut up. For very little, he doesn’t give in to the urge to bang his head against the wall. Fuck. Fuck. He really gotta learn how to be subtle someday.

Hanjae knows he has no real reason to be anxious; it’s Yoora, whom he trusted with his most chaotic truths, whom in the years they’ve been friends, saw all of his oddest habits and transparent flaws and still allowed him to stick around. Maybe the only person in the world who’ll understand why he wants to do what he wants to do, why this is the only plan that makes sense, and still, he starts quivering every time she does as little as look at his direction.

He clears his dry throat, gethers all the little courage he still has in him, stored for the stages and the fans, and decides to try again: “Uh, actually, Yoora, before we do anything, can we– Do you feel like sitting down? I really, really feel like sitting down.”

And Hanjae sits down, crossing his legs on the cold floor and letting his hands go to cover his face, no longer trying to not look like the poster child for a meltdown.

Yoora was exceptionally tired today. She was normally worn out on most days, but it was different somehow. She wasn’t really sure why she agreed to film a whole dance routine with Hanjae, but maybe it was because he sounded a little desperate, like he really needed her there, so she complied and tried to fight off the sudden waves of exhaustion she felt whilst they practiced the choreo before they had even decided to start filming it. 

It was clear that Hanjae seemed a little off recently and Yoora had noticed this. At the beginning, it could’ve been the occasional bad start to his day to explain why he had been acting like this but he began to seem more and more distracted and tense as the days moved by. Yoora wanted to ask Hanjae what was going on, but she didn’t want to force him into telling her all his thoughts just because she wouldn’t stop bothering him about it. 

Even during their meeting, he seemed extremely awkward, if not nervous. That’s what confused Yoora, what was there to be nervous about? Sure she got nervous around Hanjae sometimes, but that’s because Yoora was just always nervous around people in general, it would take a long time before she began to get comfortable with them, and before that, would come a whole string of awkward situations or conversations due to Yoora’s lack of communication.

She heard Hanjae clear his throat uncomfortably causing her to break herself out of her thoughts that were endless. Yoora watched as he restlessly looked around the room for something to focus his attention on when he suggested that the pair should sit down instead of filming the video, just when they had perfected everything and finally managed to stay in sync with each other without someone making the wrong move or turning the wrong way. 

Hanjae sits down and Yoora sits next to him, smiling. “Sure, we can sit down for a bit. I’m actually getting kind of bored of repeating the same moves over and over again, I need a break.” She breathes out, pressing her hand against her chest to steady her breathing. “You look like you have something to say, you keep wanting to speak then pausing. Is that why you brought me here?” Yoora asks, rapidly, not bothering to give him time to answer the questions and firing them at him instead. 

She nudges his shoulder, leaning against him. “Whatever it is, you can tell me, it’s a judge free zone when I’m here.” Yoora states, fidgeting with the bracelets that adorned her wrist. “Whatever it is, It’s serious right? You’ve been acting weird all week because of it. So, what’s going on?” 

Yoora is gentle with the nudge, still, Hanjae’s body sways to the side at the impact. What’s not going on, he thinks, but doesn’t say.

What he does says it’s something that he hasn’t got the chance to speak out loud yet. It's been tormenting him like he’s holding onto it for years, not less than a month. A piece of truth so secret it comes out of his mouth in a rush, like pure word vomit: “The thing is Haruki and I, we– well. We’re not– having fun anymore. Permanently. That’s– I wanted to tell you that.”

It’s been well over three weeks since they both had sat down inside that rented car in nowhere South Korea, no plans to where to go, no fixed destination, and what should have been another weird date had turned into a disaster when all of Hanjae’s suppressed emotions exploded on his face. He’s never been a spontaneous person, but he thought he could pretend to be anything as long as he had been doing it for the sake of finding love at the end of the road. He can’t believe that for a bit, he really thought there would be love at the end of that road.

Hanjae recognizes now that he doesn’t have a clear idea what love even means.

How can he start to explain these feelings? Yoora knows the nature of their whole situation, spared the occasional nauseating detail – the side of the story that is not in his business to tell, because it’s Haruki’s and Haruki’s only. Hanjae couldn’t bring himself to stay quiet in front of what was arguably one of the closest friends he ever had about what had been, at some point, something important.

They weren’t ever dating, but he and Haruki weren’t not not dating either. They had been stuck in this weird Can We, Can’t We game for four endless months, and Hanjae never did get around to learning all the rules before he had enough and found himself wanting out. 

He takes a pensive pause, collecting all of his thoughts, searching for the right words. He fidgets with one of Yoora’s shoelaces until it unties, a timid attempt to amuse her through his silence – he really likes the sound of her laugh. Hanjae’s not particularly funny, but he wishes he had some comedic talent just to be the cause of it more.

She’s the right one for this, the loud thought that popped into his head days ago returns, louder; Yoora can make it all work.

“I ended it, you know, and I tried to do it gently, but I don’t think it worked in the end,” he clarifies with a helpless shrug of his shoulders. “He’s been weird, ever since. Distant, but not just with me, and– I know I messed up, and I misunderstood things, I then made them worse, but I keep having this one thought– Like I know what could help, really help him and me, I guess, but it’s not something I can do alone, or ask just anyone’s help, so… Enters you, maybe, but just if you want, okay? No pressure. None at all.”

Hanjae dares to reach for her hand and when he gets a hold of it, squeezes gently. He wants to look her in the eye as he says it all, from now on, so he does. “But what I want to ask you first, Yoora, is if you trust me enough to do something a bit crazy with me.”

She snorts quietly, attempting to hold back her laughter. She notices how long it takes for Hanjae to answer and just looks at him. It’s quite funny that she can almost see the cogs in his brain turning as a crease between his eyebrows appears, signaling that he’s still lost in thought. When he finally does answer, Yoora is a little shocked. “So, what you’re saying is, you two aren’t together anymore? Like, seriously?” He nods in reply and her eyes begin to water a little. It wasn’t because she was upset, definitely not, she had no right to act that way, it was due to the fact that she felt bad for Hanjae. 

His whole life story could make Yoora cry. She had always felt some sort of lingering remorse for him, especially when they first met. He seemed like a quiet person, the odd one out of a bunch of evens but it suited him. Even if he was the odd one out, it always made him seem different and different was always good for Yoora. She hates silence, she absolutely hates having to sit quietly for too long, or avoid the awkwardness that comes with it but when it comes to Hanjae and Yoora, silence is always comforting for her. Maybe it was just Hanjae’s presence, but she could sit and do nothing with him forever and not once say that she was bored. 

Maybe it meant that they were soulmates or something. Yoora didn’t really get that stuff very much, it all confused her, how could you possibly be soulmates with someone you haven't met yet? Her view changed a little once she began to get closer to Hanjae, she was certain that now, soulmates definitely meant something to her. They also had so much in common that it was easy for them to become friends. Yoora had friends, but none of them were like Hanjae. Hanjae understood every single choice or action Yoora would do, because he would’ve done it too. It was as if they just clicked together, like a puzzle piece, and couldn’t function properly without the other.

As Yoora lays her head on Hanjae’s shoulder, she can feel him begin to untie her shoelaces, which makes her smile a little. She finds it funny, she finds everything Hanjae does funny. He may not think it, but Yoora thinks Hanjae’s the only person she knows that’s naturally funny without trying too hard. She would laugh if she could, but she doesn’t have enough energy for that, so instead she lifts her head up and turns her body to look at him. “I laughed internally, now can you please re-tie them?” Yoora asks, using her head to point down at the shoelaces draped across the shiny floor. 

He listens and finishes tying Yoora’s shoelaces when he begins another sentence. “Sometimes ending things gently isn't the best thing for both parties. ‘Cause then it just makes everything seem like it was perfect, when it wasn’t.” She replies with a small, tight smile on her face. “Of course he’s gonna be distant Jae, Haruki’s probably got a lot going on and ending whatever you two had, was just something else he could add on to his king list, you know? Don’t stress too much about it, one day he’ll be back to normal and you guys can rebuild your friendship, somehow.” Yoora chooses her words carefully, not wanting to say something she shouldn’t by accident since she knows she’s getting a little more nervous as time passes by. 

Hanjae’s hands feel softer and warmer than usual, or Yoora’s paying too much attention to them. He squeezes her hands, and it puts her at ease. The nerves die down once they make eye contact with each other. Yoora has never been good at holding eye contact, but at this specific moment, it didn’t seem like a challenge, just a normal reflex. She’s always noticed how detailed Hanjae’s eyes were and how depending on the light, they would get lighter or darker. They were pretty, much like him. “You know that I trust you, and I’d help you with almost anything,” She pauses. “As long as I’m not like murdering someone, I’m in.” She gently removes one of her hands from his hold and slaps him on the arm. “Hurry up and tell me! I’ve been waiting for too long.”

“It’s not murder,” Hanjae says, lips curling up despite everything. He can feel a small wave of relief starting to wash over him, as Yoora’s encouraging energy takes over all around the room, gently untying the knot on his chest.  “The idea I had was more… simple.” 

“I figured that the quickest way to make it all normal again, might be just to show him that I moved on, because I really did move on. I’m doing fine with all the feelings– there’s not even that many to consider. Things were never all that nice between us, but nothing about it came close to crushing me. I don’t feel like running off to a mountain and becoming chaste for the rest of my life. I’m not gonna just give up all relationships, that’s not the right thing to do, but I feel that’s he’s assuming I’ll do, for some reason I don’t get. I think it would be good to make him think I’m seeing someone else soon– someone that he knows I like and that likes me, in a way, like you, because you’ve been my friend for a while and… You see what I’m hinting at? Maybe?”

The thing is: Hanjae doesn’t want to rub it all over Haruki’s face and parade Yoora around in a fake relationship as a big ‘got ya’ moment, that’s far from being a part of his plan, but he does want him to see that progress is a real option. Hell, if he weren’t such an introvert and Dispatch was never a thing, he really would be trying to get himself out there instead of running to Yoora with a grand scheme.

What’s really breaking his heart here is that no matter what he’s tried to say these last few days, no matter what he’s tried to do, Haruki just can’t recognize they both had been at fault; he keeps acting like a criminal waiting to be convicted, which is far away from the truth. For all the times Haruki had been evasive, and mean, and acted inconsiderate of his very obvious feelings, Hanjae had been terribly selfish to match, demanting time he knew his bandmate could not give him, ignoring the few real terms and conditions he got for the sake of signs he made up out of thin air.

But just because they couldn’t get the steps right between them, it doesn’t mean they can’t do this dance with other people.

There’s a joke here somewhere, about being about to make this one ask in this setting, with the one person Hanjae feels like he could dance with without his feet failing him. He has the feeling that he can’t deal with the punchline just yet. 

“So, with all that in mind,” Hanjae prompts, letting his free hand hover over Yoora’s wrist and picking over the jewelry around it, just as she did shortly ago. He’s looking up at the ceiling as he finally asks, "Would you fake date me, Yoora?”

It’s a bit ridiculous, but he feels himself blushing, out of all things. Hanjae has only had relationships that started off on the wrong foot so far; the only girlfriend he did have was still the partner of a friend when they first kissed, which definitely isn’t a feat to be added to the highlights of his teenage life. He doesn’t think he’s ever been in a situation where he even got to ask this one question to anyone seriously, which is a realization that makes him feel a bit sad.

He tries to not let his face fall again as he amends, quickly and firmly because Hanjae knows it’s important to get this one thing out of the way: “I’m not trying to do with him what Heejin did to you, Yoonnie, I promise. It wouldn’t be real, and it wouldn’t be long.”

“I didn’t think you were capable of killing anybody anyways, don’t worry.” Yoora giggles, letting out the laughter she’d been holding back for a while. She wanted to keep the mood light since Hanjae seemed uncomfortable with whatever idea he wanted to propose to her. “No, I totally get it. You want to prove to him that you’re capable of seeing other people and that he hasn’t, like, completely ruined your dating life forever.”  Yoora hums, nodding at his words to indicate her understanding. When she says she gets it, she really does get it. She felt the same exact way when she had just broken up with Heejin, she had moved on so quickly that Yoora didn’t even get a chance to be upset or anything, she had to move on quickly as well. 

That’s what she hated about Heejin, how unfair she was, she was always making things difficult for Yoora during their relationship but it made her feel better knowing that Hanjae understood where they were both coming from. Their situations may not have been similar, but they had the same exact feeling when it was over. “I would love to say that I know where you're heading with this explanation, but I’m getting a bit lost over here..” Yoora trails off, not knowing what else to say to continue the conversation. She had a lot of questions to ask, but she wanted Hanjae to finish speaking before she got too confused and fired all her confusement at him. 

Yoora averts her attention back towards Hanjae’s face, studying his anxious expression as his eyes flick upwards. “Sure, I'll be your fake girlfriend, what’s the worst that could happen?” She replies, uncrossing her legs and stretching them back out. Realistically, no-one should agree to something like this so quickly but Yoora was Yoora, meaning that she would do just about anything as long as it didn’t lead to her death.

She had sort of gotten the hints earlier, but didn’t want to jump to any conclusions. Hanjae finally blurting out what was plaguing his mind confirmed her initial thoughts and Yoora was quite proud of how fast it took her to get the gist of what he was trying to say. 

The only thing she was worried about was how she was going to convince everyone else that it was real. Obviously her group members would notice that something was off with her, but she didn’t want to tell them anything without Hanjae’s permission, in case it ruined whatever he had planned. Yoora wasn’t very good at keeping secrets from people closest to her, she was a good secret keeper in general, but this one was a little too big to hide. She feels the beads around her wrist tighten and loosen as they’re picked and Yoora somehow finds it quite calming, she’s not afraid or anything, just a little jittery after thinking about too many things at once. Bringing her legs closer to her chest, she notices the faint blush painted over Hanjae’s face. She wants to smile at how easy it is for the boy to be flustered over simple things, but decides to keep it hidden so that she doesn’t ruin the serious atmosphere.

“Oh don’t worry, I know you’re nothing like Heejin. You’d be a better fake boyfriend than she was a real girlfriend, anyways.” Heejin had many flaws, so there was no reason for Hanjae to reassure Yoora. The only thing they had in common was the first letter of their names and Hanjae had always been a good friend to Yoora, helping him out with this one small thing was the least that she could do for him. “It could be as long or as short as you wanted it to be and I would still help you, I’m in.” Her shoulder collided with Hanjae’s as she leant back a little to stretch out her sore limbs. “We have to be careful about it though. We should make a list!” She suggests excitedly, clasping her hands together as things come together in her head.

Hanjae lets out his first real laugh of the day – or maybe the week, he isn’t quite sure how long it’s been – as Yoora reassures him Heejin isn’t a concern, as well outrights gets on board with an enthusiasm that, somehow, has cemented in him. He doesn’t like to think of himself as someone who seeks much validation, but it would be a lie to say her approval doesn’t make him feel confident. There’s nothing to disapprove of, anyway: it’s a good, harmless plan. 

Hanjae mimics her stretching, raising his long arms up and spinning his head to relax his neck, then gets up to go fetch his abandoned phone to put his Notes app to use. She’s right, after all. They’re remarkably bad liars, and will need to construct this out if they want to be convincing.

“I did want to treat you to something to eat, after everything had been discussed, so that could be our first ‘date’? It's been a while, right, since we got to go out?” He pauses. “Our PR manager has been insisting I go out more with ‘friends that remind me to take photos’. I need material to add to my Fab and Instagram feed.”

Hanjae lets himself chat away as his cloudy mind dissipates, leaving him with only two troughs to fixate over. 

The first is a surprising realization: Hanjae is pretty sure that this might be the easiest bit he’s ever attempted to keep up. Haruki will only need as much as hear him saying ‘I’m seeing Yoora’ once to get it, and none of his other members have ever cared enough for what he does to ask too deep into it or even register any plot holes if he gives them a story, except for maybe Seungsoo and Jiahang, but that's just because they both need gossip to live more than food and water.

There’s a very small chance Dylan will want more than the odd detail into his dating life from now on, since he's seemed to have picked up something of what went on, which Hanjae always knew had been a bit inevitable given his current position as Haruki’s roommate and latest emotional hostage. In a way, Chihoon might have been the one who planted this fake dating idea into his head with all the romcoms he made them sit through ‘for no reason at all, dude’, so it’s only fair.

The second thought, louder and more exciting, is simple: Hanjae is just optimistic that by doing this, they can just go all in on the light and fun and make this ‘relationship’ exactly how they want it. Hanjae’s a bit of a romantic, he admits, and the limitations that come with being an Idol haven’t stopped him from wanting to do silly couple routines like matching outfits or even outright sharing things.

He gives Yoora a discreet up and down, and finds himself suppressing a smile. Hanjae knows from experience that all of his jackets look big enough on her to cover her hands, when she wears them – it would be very, very nice if she did wear them more.

He taps into his phone ‘topic of conversation: couple look’, and tries not to look too pleased.

Yoora thinks Hanjae’s laugh suits him, and it doesn’t seem forced like the hundreds of other ones she’s encountered, it sounds exactly like him.

“I’m being serious! I hate not having everything planned out in front of me, we can just use that notes app, right?” She asks as she watches him open his phone and scroll to the said app. She had always been someone who needed everything to be planned out, otherwise she was sure she wouldn’t be able to keep things going. Or maybe that was because Yoora wasn’t an organized person and wanted at least one thing to go perfectly planned in her life. 

“Yeah, It has been a while since we hung out properly, without any hidden meanings or something and it is true, you definitely need to take more photos. Your fans are probably questioning what you’re doing right now.” Yoora smiles and gently hits him on the shoulder as she remembers how empty Hanjae’s instagram looks compared to her constant posting schedule. If she didn’t keep to the schedule, she’d probably be yelled at a few times, but it was easy for her to stick to it since she loved taking photos and social media in general. She also loved to be anywhere but the company building or the group’s dorm; it always felt too cramped there despite the fact that there were only five other people that took up the rest of the space Yoora wasn’t using. 

As Hanjae goes silent, she realizes that she has no idea how she was going to attempt to hide this from the rest of her members. They simply wouldn’t understand if Yoora just sprung it upon them and told them that she now had a boyfriend, it would be too weird or oddly timed. But then, she didn’t really want to tell them everything about the situation at hand, it wasn’t really her place to share anything that Hanjae had chosen to share with her out of trust for the girl.

Yoora didn’t feel any sort of resentment towards Haruki, but his name being brought up always made her feel bad for him, and Hanjae. Whatever they had trapped themselves into was a tough journey, especially with what they both had going on, it seemed like neither was truly happy. 

This led Yoora to her current thought, how was she meant to act? Obviously, she knew how to be a girlfriend, but she didn’t know how to be a fake girlfriend. She wasn’t sure if it required different needs to what regular relationships needed and Yoora wasn’t sure that she was a good actress. She already knew Hanjae could act, and it was clearly a gift of his, but she was a little short on that end. Maybe she could practice, or maybe she was thinking too much and getting too into the whole fake relationship mentality, but that’s just how her brain always worked. It was always coming up with stupid ideas, so she wasn’t surprised that she agreed so quickly, she had nothing better to do. 

It wasn’t as if she saw Hanjae’s proposal as a simple task or a good way to cure her boredom, but Yoora had absolutely no reason for her to object because it didn’t really affect her negatively or positively and Hanjae was as close to being her best friend as anyone could get to, she was simply helping him out. She was scared to get too deep into her thoughts and decided to shrug it off, coming to the conclusion that she would just have to figure everything out a little later.

“Okay…what other rules are we meant to have? Oh! We have to be really careful to not get caught, everyone needs to believe that it’s real, I know it’s obvious but it’ll ruin everything if we do.” The way Yoora was pushing her words together so they came out too quickly showed how interested she was getting, and when she was interested in something, she was never going to let it go. Yoora placed her hand on her chest, groaning quietly. “Actually, I’m exhausted, anything else I need to know?”

Hanjae will not lie: there are a billion steps they might need to take to orchestrate this pretend boyfriend and girlfriend scheme – improvising is really not his forte, and he personally could overthink this for hours on end, but–

Yoora brings her hand in front of her face to hide a yawn, and suddenly Hanjae’s hit with the delayed realization that they’ve been doing choreography for hours with little to no filmed content to show for it, since he looked like he was at his wits end during most of it. A part of him feels drained, too, physically but especially emotionally, maybe even for way longer than he allowed himself to stop to think of.

He might need a very intense drum session to work all the lingering tension off this weekend, or even an improvised retreat into Taesong’s yoga corner of the living room. He hasn’t had enough time to sit with just himself, lately.

This operation should start soon, yes, but not exactly right now. No good plan is made in one single sitting, and Hanjae can barely think of dos and don’ts now, when his knee muscles are threatening to start killing him in minutes.

“No,” Hanjae says to her, softly. “Just that– Thank you again for saying yes, Yoonie. I’ll try my best, with you. Even if it’s pretend, I’m not gonna mess it up. I promise.”

To himself, he goes deeper into the vow, and swears that he’ll not make a mess while trying to fix another. Hanjae will easily let Yoora go, when the time’s right, and he’ll be grateful for her time and for her help, and it’ll be all. He’s not going to suffocate her with a million ideas of what the two of them should look like, to pass as a couple in his eyes. He’ll not get too used to it to forget why they’re doing it in the first place. He’ll not want something he can’t have despite his selfish and grabby nature.

It’ll be a good and fun exercise, and– a flash of when they first met comes to his mind, of how captivated he was by Yoora and her everything – it could be a challenge, which he’s okay with. Maybe there is some sort of tiny part of Hanjae that needs something to put his strength to the test, a monitored try-out before he’s dunk into the big dating pool, some evaluation he can pass and deem himself… adjusted.

(He feels his jaw tense up immediately. He might have gotten Haruki’s initial deal with him better just now. Yikes. Big, big yikes.)

In front of him, Hanjae sees Yoora enthusiastically nod, hair swinging side to side, cracking a smile that communicates relief and amusement. He’s struck by the sudden urge to buy her heart shaped chocolate as a joke, probably. He starts mentally tracing roots to all the confectionery places nearby, but stops himself before his hand itches for his phone. 

Hanjae walks side by side with her to leave the room, stops by the door to crack it open, and just as Yoora is about to pass him by, he makes a less dubious humorous decision: Hanjae signals for her to stop, takes off his nylon jacket and places it over her shoulders, almost like it’s a cape. It’s a bit awkward and clumsily done, but that’s part of his goal. Their shared laugh is light, and it radiates fun.

More than anything, he wants to show Yoora that he’s serious, but just the type of committed serious one can be while playing pretend. Nothing is going to change, when it’s just the two of them. They’ll keep on being friends, which is what they’ll always like each other for.

Maybe that’s the complicity you should feel, he thinks just then, quicker as the practice room lights being turned off after he presses the switch; when you have a partner.

Sometimes, it’s really hard for Hanjae to believe that he’ll ever get to know.

[quirkle2]

nobody asked but im typing out all the gripes i have w totk . they're mostly nick-picky tho i loved this game. complaints first, praises after

single biggest gripe i have with totk is that the main selling point of the game, the sky, does not feel nearly as expansive as it should. i feel like there coulda been waayyy more islands up there, and Bigger ones, like the one u start out on. i want bigger pieces of land to explore, not these tiny little rocks. it feels i've seen everything there is to see the moment i land. as far as i remember, there's no biomes in the sky islands either, except for the great sky one. there's no differences, and many of the islands are copy-pasted. still fun to explore and still beautiful, but i was expecting... more

while i love the depths with all my heart and being down there is an Experience, i do think it could've been improved with a little bit of variety. it looks the same wherever u go, with the exception of the eldin region and a few other lavafalls sprinkled about. i think some different biomes woulda been so cool

no post-game. i don't even necessarily want a fully fleshed out post-game, i literally just want the game and the world to acknowledge i beat ganon instead of dumping me back in time moments before the fight i just started. this is a common thing, i know, but i Hate the practice

u can't pet th efuckign dogs

what the hell happened to ganon's face in that one scene . i thought we were past weirdly impossible expressions like that one midna grin. why did it happen again in the year 2023.

why did ganon's intro scene before the final fight pan to his feet so much

kinda predictable story, in the sense that zelda turned into the light dragon. saw it comin a mile away, but this is just me being bitchy the story itself is still very fulfilling and good. just predictable, which isn't necessarily a bad thing

okay that was 7 complaints 2 of which were memes now sit back as i ramble abt the good stuff. already made a thread abt the little stuff i liked now it's the bigish stuff

the music in some of the areas is genuine fucking art. some of my favorites are the wind temple theme and it's approach track, the construct factory theme, dragonhead island, the bits of the calamity ganon theme in this game's final boss track, frozen rito village,,, so many pieces of genuine skill and talent

the wind temple is absolutely one of the best experiences i've had in a video game, not because of the puzzle design, but the temple design. the moment where you look up into the clouds with tulin and you see a giant airship silhouette highlighted by lightning,, the approach track that plays when ur getting higher into the air had chills running down my spine. what a cool fucking concept for a temple

there's already a post somewhere on tumblr abt this, but i love that the citizens of hyrule don't follow the typical "every man for himself" apocalyptic mindset. they help each other, constantly. they seek out people to help in their spare time. they shelter each other and volunteer to do hard work for the sake of everybody else. i just think that's rly endearing n nice. a good message

the entire fuse and ultrahand mechanics are SUPER fun. so endlessly creative. and i love that a lot of the time, the game doesn't hold ur hand. it doesn't even Grab ur hand, it pushes u off the ledge to teach you how to fly. it Makes u get creative with ur solutions. it makes u feel stupid a Lot, but sometimes it makes u feel like an absolute genius (anybody else have trouble with that one rail shrine? anybody else just launch themselves across the pit and rail grind to skip the thing entirely?)

tulin.

the vibes of the thunderhead isles were Incredible. i went up there before the clouds cleared, and i gotta say, even if the game Wants u to go up there later in the story, exploring those islands while the storm is still active is an entirely different experience, and i recommend it. if ur reading this before you've finished this part, just don't go to the actual dragonhead island . leave that for when it prompts u, trust me.

ganon's dragon design ? fucking killer

a lot of the new armor pieces are really beautiful. the miner's set looks so fuckin stupid but the headpiece is cool. all the torso pieces for the elemental dragon sets r Gorgeous

loved that the first half of the final boss took place in the depths, and the second half took place in the sky. nintendo has always been good at linking game elements with stories and this is no exception imo

LOVED when ganon's health bar stretched super far to the right. that was so silly and intimidating

in the final fight, the way ganon would only be affected by flurry rushes at first and not any random attacks, but then random attacks were the only way to hit him later. i know it was scripted, but it genuinely made it feel like he was learning to fight link better

the theme of cycles and the circular nature of time throughout this game is wonderful, and how it's mirrored in the first/last settings of the game is genius. how the game starts in a cave, and then part of the ending is in that same cave. how link dived alone into that pond below the great sky island at the start, and then at the very end he dived For Zelda in that very same pond

[myrfing]

woo yeah 6.5 msq spoiler thread. I'll do a (few?) big ones instead of post spamming

I'm having a 2 characters are in the same frame moment with zeroshtola. wow she is staring at her with her pixel eyes

ALLAGAN BALL BACTERIOPHAGES ! this is how we win

BRO BEQ LUGG IS GOING TO BE SO MAD AT ME AGAIN THIS IS THE SCARIEST PART OF THIS PATCH

BEQ LUGG I HAVE SOMETHING TO ASK OF YOU

Ryne baby :] she's the best

Gourd: Hi Ryne Ryne: Is the world ending .

THIS MAKES IT SOUNDS LIKE BEQ LUGG HOMOPHOBIC MOMENT HELP ME

IT'S GRAY IT'S A GRAY SKY SORRY she sees the beauty in all <3

ryne DoH arc YEasss Yess

that's right zero NEVER give up ARGHHH *grips her shoulders*

"i trust you're willing to walk with me" ALWAYS

LYNA. LYNA LYNA LYNA LYNA LYNA AAAAAAGGGGGHH

whisperweeds are the first's linkpearls AFTER SO LONG WE?

lyna is not staying...:(

LAGAUGH

rehashing the whole people dont like the tower making noises thing is...i mean alright but lol

HEY I SHOULDNT BE TAKING RYNE TO THE STRIP CLUB

im going to cry aat zero's impression of pole dancers I'm telling estinien

cont

yes ryne...it is nice to guide someone through the same steps (wet seal eyes)

zero is too straightforward right now maybe to think of it but it must be an experience being changed incorrigibly by the darkness you fought against and then to go to another world and have people see safety and peace in it

the whisperweed ringtone is so cute

LOL gourd smiling immediately after hearing lyna's voice on the phone. TRUE

hey trolley guys and sadcatman wifewithoutamodel

ZEOR FAMILY GUY DEATH POSE ALMFOAFSAOFOSA

GIRL SHE REALLY WENT FOR THE DRINK THAT MAKES YOU DIE INSTANTLY SIP

i legitimately love how awkward and melodramatic zero is like she does not understand time and place Win

this is. (turns into a hamster) ryne dose attenuator

WE'RE GOING BACK ALREADY? BUT...ZERO I HAVESOMEONE FOR YOU TO MEET. AND GAIA? NO GOTH GET TOGETHER?

i see they seem to be setting up the void quests for a restoration of the dark-empty type thing and maybe they will meet there...cylva may not have msq ascension but I h ave hope. for ever.

aw ryne that is exactly right we're going to have a trolley system for the shards in no time

me on a saturday night

i actually said "oh shit" out loud. that is really fucking cool MY GOD? i know amaurot did it before but this is more to me .

the golbez durante yaoi is real

oh hey what the hell

the face censoring. i get it durante FOR YOUR EYES ONLY

ok im such a sucker for this persona inheritance shit. this happensin my webcomic

HELP WHAT IS THIS SUDDEN INCREMENTALIST VS REVOLUTIONARY ARGUMENT THAT'S NOT WHA

hydaelyn's sword looks cool in the darkness here :]

dude zeromus' voice

also did anyone get that bug where zero's stance keeps looping in the cutscene so it looks like she's tbagging durante. Didd I see that

ZERO YOUR NUB FLAMFOAFOA

golbez i need you to meet this woman named cylva expeditiously. I NEED 13th reunion

amends love returned made even so so long after the world has ended....snrf

tiny baby azdaja im gonna cry dude he's wearing her as a hat

YES. YES! YES! YES!

[v33n4-c4rn1s]

♡︎⋆｡COLD STORM ｡⋆♡︎

veena lambert x mare torres

I need more of them.....

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Mare was at ease, laying back on the sofa and watching some shitty movie, he was in that tiny piece of heaven, relaxed and calm with his arm around..a pillow? well, that's not right at all! after all he's normally with his beloved but now he's realized..she's no where in sight.

"vee-? veena?"

He gently called from the living room, turning his head around to see if she could be in the kitchen..but she wasn't. where was she? I mean surely he had made sure she was alright? could she be in the bedroom? where on earth could she..

His mini panic was cut off by a loud banging, turning to the source of the noise he immediately jumped back, standing at the window was a huge bat. Flapping it's wings and hissing, baring it's teeth and headbutting the glass.

"HOLY SHIT??"

He had never seen ANYTHING like it. It was huge and it looked angry..he looked around in a panic, trying to figure out where his girlfriend was while also worrying about the huge bat! until something clicked in his head. The bat wore a tiny jewel, a ruby..veena could shift into a bat whenever she pleased..

She had told him she was heading out for the night for food.

She had told him to leave the window open.

She had told him about the storm tonight.

Oh dear.

He'd locked her outside.

Suddenly, as the thought dawned on him he rushed over to the window, opening it up and allowing her in, with a flick of red dust there she stood. Absolutely drenched and extremely pissed off.

"..veena I'm so-"

"Are you fucking kidding me!? i TOLD you I was going out! I said to open the damn window!? you knew I was out!! you KNEW that!! and there i stood in the shaking cold!! giving myself a concussion so you could notice and let me into my OWN fucking home!!"

She stopped herself, breathing out an angry sigh before pushing past him, she left marks on the floor from the rain, she was violently trembling and shivering, she shuffled down to their bathroom before slamming the door.

Mare didn't like the way this went down, he never meant to lock her out, he loved her, he would never do anything to harm her or her well-being. He sat down on the sofa, he wasn't sure what to do. Had he ruined their whole relationship? Was she going to turn around and leave him in the dirt? he didn't notice his own tears, when he did he completely caved, crying into his hands. his tail twitched at the fact she had yelled so loud at him, he felt she was reasonable for being upset but yet..it shook him.

Veena had successfully managed to calm herself, shaking off the water and changing her outfit into a more..warm one. she looked at herself in the mirror, she felt..guilt. Mare hated being yelled at, he hated when a voice was raised and she had raised hers, she stared at herself for a few moments before her little thought train hit the breaks. What was that noise? muffled and raspy..oh. She had made him cry.

Veena shook of the rest of her anger in remarkable time. She cracked open the door and slid out..sure enough there he was, head in his hands as tiny sobs shook his larger frame.

"oh you.."

she muttered, taking gentle steps over to him, sitting herself down and resting her hands on his.

"i-i didn't mean to leave you- honest! I just-"

Veena shook her head, Sliding his mask off and tilting his face towards her. His eyes..a very gentle purple. His face, scarred and burned, had such gentle tears streaming down the patched skin. She used both her thumbs to wipe his tears away, his hands reached up to hold her wrists in place, keeping her there.

"shh..no more, I shouldn't have yelled.."

She hummed softly, placing a gentle kiss on his nose, His eyes closed as he gently whimpered, trying to stop his crying.

"i-im sorry- i-.."

"I forgive you, it was just an accident.."

She used a part of her strength to pull him down, she laid herself down against plenty of cushions, tugging mare down to rest on her chest, her fingers threading through his hair, she sighed softly as she felt him completely relax in her hold.

"mm..you know i love you.."

Mare simply baa'd, muttering a gentle..

"i know..I love you too.."

They weren't sure what time they fell asleep but it was quick, they slept well and comfortable.

The raindrops patted the window, gently easing the two into the quiet of the night.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:··:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

the cuties EVERRRR, ugh I love them bro, seriously they just fit so well :[

[wabblebees]

okay im probably very behind but. what the actual fuck did tunglr dot hell do to the image+video function on mobile (rant ahead)

i used to be able to tap an image to bring it up to fullscreen, and from there i was able to zoom in+out (whether with a pinch in/out OR a doubletap), swipe left/right (to slideshow thru every image in the entire thread, whether in the original post or the subsequent reblogs), and ALSO swipe up/down to leave and go back to my dash and the full post. going fullscreen brought up the lil like/rb/share icons in the corner, but if you didnt need them, tapping once on the image made them disappear so you could Focus On The Image You Were Looking At.

with videos, i could click to bring it fullscreen, tap the centre of the screen to pause, and swipe left or right to skip however far forward or back. tapping elsewhere onscreen made the time bar on the bottom pop up, along with the mute/unmute icon and the like/rb/share icons. tapping again made these things disappear. swiping up or down would slide you out of the fullscreen viewer and back to your dash.

this was perfect! it worked wonderfully! no complaints!

but NOW when i click an image, it gives me all this extraneous information i Didn't Fucking Need Or Want (whoever's blog it came from, plus who THEY reblogged it from, plus a tiny snippet of a random caption ((not alt text!! not image ids!! just Other Words!!)) that MAY OR MAY NOT even be from the specific version of the thread im looking at, PLUS the number of images youre swiping thru, P L U S the like/rb/share icons.)

Nothing Makes This Bullshit Go Away. and having all that extra bullshit in the way fucks up the image quality all to hell anyway, but ALSO?? no longer can i even ZOOM IN ON THE IMAGES. it doesnt allow you to swipe through every image in the thread anymore, just the images in *that particular section* of the chain!! on top of all THAT, you cannot swipe out to exit this view anymore! you have to press your back button! bc APPARENTLY by SWIPING UP ((ON AN IMAGE, MIND YOU, NOT EVEN A VIDEO)), it tries to take you to something called """"tumblr tv"""" which im assuming is their version of endless fucking tiktok scrolling/instagram reels. which... fuck that noise, all the way to hell.

on trying to watch a regular-ass video, it gave me a similar amount of extraneous annoying information that i couldnt tap away from. like how fucking tiktok has it so you cant escape the side icons+captions+user handles and shit. i dont WANT that shit. if i clicked to make the video fullscreen, i want the video to be taking up the full screen!! i dont WANT none of this weird other shit you cant get rid of,, i have no use for it!! thats what playing the video OUT OF FULLSCREEN IS FOR, Hellsite You Idiot Bastard.

so uhh. anyway. if anyone has any ideas for how i can Get Rid Of/Turn Off this goddamn fucking """feature,""" i would really appreciate it. i did a once-over of settings earlier but didnt see any new obviously stupid buttons, so im not sure where else to start

[welcometocapitalism]

im worried that my previous ask is way too aggressive and might make you feel defensive and thats not helpful at all so i just want to explain that im so angry because it breaks my heart to see other people being violently harassed into submission just for saying something that isnt a popular opinion. you are quite literally being gaslit by a bunch of strangers who desperately dont want to have to think that hard about the material consequences of their own behaviors.

they are simplifying the issue in order to make you look unreasonable so that they can completely dismiss your opinion while giving you no way to defend yourself without making yourself look worse. its manipulative and coercive and vile. they have tricked you into condemning your own behavior and reinforcing that self doubt that THEY planted in you in the first place.

they are convincing you that you have to police yourself otherwise they will do it for you and they arent going to be nice about it.

they intentionally misunderstood what you were saying so that they could ignore the point you were making and thus avoid taking responsibility for their personal role in our capitalist society.

they are operating on this us vs them mindset of "good people" vs "bad people" and they think that they are a "good person" and that you are trying to maliciously assert that theyre actually a "bad person." its fascist behavior. they dont want to acknowledge their place in the web of life because then they have to be more careful about how they act and they simply do not want to. they think its their god given right to not have to do anything thats difficult and reflecting on how you are influenced by the oppressive systems you live in is not just difficult but uncomfortable!

you are forcing people to confront some very very uncomfortable truths about themselves and they are reacting the only way they know how: by lashing out at the people around them.

it is a reflection on THEM not YOU. their reaction doesnt say anything about you or the opinion you stated and everything about the experiences and expectations and knowledge that inform the way they think about the world around them.

i just dont feel comfortable standing by and watching this happen to someone else. so i dont know what it means to you but, i completely agree with your original point and i am more than happy to defend it if you dont feel comfortable doing so. i know how scary it can be to face down a mob of people who you know might turn to violence if you dont comply and i know most people dont find it as easy to take harassment as i do. i am more than willing to fight the fight if you cant.

idk just. be kinder to yourself. you cant let these people get to you. i knows it so fucking hard. its so so fucking hard. but you dont have to do it alone.

i hope youre okay.

hey fren, I've seen it all but I'm sorry I'm not gonna respond to all that, I'm very thankful for your kind thoughts and words but it's kinda a bit much 😅

just know we're on the very same track about the whole thing. It's absolutely hilarious what some people wrote to me about an already reworded opinion on pillows, and i can genuinely just laugh about that

this entire thread turned so badly into satire with so many layers that it could almost be considered an artistic expression. after all, this is the internet, which was kinda the original ordeal of the post, and I took it and made it 1000% funnier by writing too quickly and then people came and made it 10000% funnier by becoming embarrassingly entrenched in some random ass online discourse

I like to half jokingly call this kind of behavior 'internet sickness', since as you also noted you can find this kind of behavior all over the internet. people see an entire universe full of people that seemingly get the attention they don't, but humans are fueled with attention, so sometimes you see someone do literally anything for that tiny tad of attention, even if they don't mean it. this may sound familiar from the way I word my posts sometimes, because as I made clear as day, I'm not better than that sometimes.

Admittedly, I also suppose not all of the angry asks and comments would have been so hostile if tumblr would show late reposts with their comments on an original post more clearly, which isn't so easy. This is why I pinned yet another polarizing post about it with a comment about the situation 🤭 some people would rather click to start another shitstorm than click to find out there's no reason for them to freak out. But often in the internet people don't freak out of hostility, but because they realize (but refuse to accept) they identify with something about the cause in some way, so that would be a positive thing I suppose. It's up to each of us individually to grow from that.

i don't get hard feelings about these people, and genuinely as a former Twitter user I'm kinda used to it. it's just an annoyance at some point, but I suppose it's also the attention I was looking for 💁

After all, I get to post this lyrical masterpiece once more in a well fitting context

[allthebestscreennamesaregone63]

RANT POST. LONG RANT POST.

So, I don't really need the subreddit thread to tell me I'm probably the asshole on this one, but this guy at work is TESTING me.

We'll call him Dude.

Dude probably has ADHD or autism or both. He definitely is undersocialized. I TRIED to keep that in mind.

Dude is usually the janitor, but we were short staffed in the stock room yesterday, so we ended up working a shift together.

And y'all-

He would put things where they clearly did NOT go, and then started to argue with me when I actually know wtf I'm doing, when he didn't straight up ignore me.

Then, we have a million boxes to sort through, stacked on pallets. Every time he opened a box, he'd loudly announce what was inside it. Every. Fucking. Time. And then, he mostly left the boxes for me to sort through, before deciding I wasn't doing it right or whatever, and forcibly taking over.

So, by the time I've been on shift for two hours, I am gotdamn DONE. So, I announce to the room at large so everyone knows where tf I went,

"I'm going on break." I go to grab my water.

"Yeah, go on break." -Dude (abrasive)

So, there I am nursing a screaming fucking headache in the breakroom (too soon for more ibuprofen) and I'm so close to just going home.

It was supposed to be my day off, anyway. Not MY fault that they forgot to schedule actual help.

So, anyway, I go back to the tiny ass stockroom. I was gone for fifteen fucking minutes. In that time, they managed to screw up the space so badly that it was five minutes later before I could do my goddamn job.

I was relieved when it was time to throw trash in the compactor. Fucker is noisy as shit, can't hear Dude being a dick over it. So, there I am, throwing away twenty or so big bags of trash in the compactor. Finally get the inefficient fuckwad to actually do its job, but the needle on the guage went into the yellow warning bit.

Uh oh.

"Hey [MOD], when did they take out the compacted trash last?"

"Not too long ago, why?"

"The gauge is in the yellow."

"What does that mean?"

Tf you think it means?! Get the trash picked up, bitch, quickly!

So, I get the trash squared away, and the freaking truck came. We have 5 pallets already, we're getting 9, and we have space for a total of maybe 16. Its gonna be a tight fit.

Dude fucked up on wrapping a gaylord. Then, he saved two empty pallets instead of one, like we usually do. Not two minutes after I tell Dude we don't need it, motherfucking MOD goes and tells him to grab another empty pallet.

Then, the truck driver who brought his own shrinkwrap, asked if I knew where it went. Fuckers moved it without telling either of us. So, when Dude picks it back up, I tell him,

"That belongs to the truck driver, don't move it."

Dude fucking ignores me.

I repeat myself.

He says, "I know!"

"If you know so much, why are you moving it?" I am so done with this fucker at this point.

"I'm not moving it." (Aggressively rude). He sets it down. I turn to my coworker who saw this all go down, with a "can you believe this guy?" Look.

She makes a shooing motion with her hand. Now, im looking at her like she's lost her damn mind.

"Move. I need to get by you."

Then, [MOD] says we don't have room for the gaylords where they usually go. She tells the guy to throw them on top of the pallets. The, uh, seven foot tall pallets we have to move almost immediately.

So I suggest that we put them against a different wall instead. Its what we usually do.

[MOD]: we can't mess with this guy, we'll fix it later, he's a bit crabby.

I literally was trying to make his job easier, but ok.

So, I leave early, by like, an hour. When I get home, my Dad flat out accused me of being lazy.

In other words, fuckers KEEP walking all over me, and men (and some women) are fucking trash.