#How is it I keep finding out new things about this man that make me love him even more

[leyavo]

Wife/girlfriend series, Ghost, Price and Gaz already done. Soap’s around 26 years old and more interested in progressing in his career. So I don’t think he’d be married, but would have a girlfriend….

Soap’s girlfriend is wild.

You’re few years younger than Johnny and making the most of your youth whilst you can. He likes that things are fun and not too serious. You’re always scratching that itch, trying new things out and pushing him to play more.

Play electric guitar in a band, every Friday night, rock night at a pub which promotes independent artists. Johnny met you when he went there on the off chance, you jumping down the platform after your set and kissing him. Johnny thinks the lead singers a little prick.

Started as a fuck it and see relationship (where he called whenever he was home and you had sex). Turned into you staying longer each morning to cuddle him instead of rushing out straight after.

There was just something that pulled the two of you back together. The back and forth messaging whilst he was away, filled with nonsense but fun nonetheless.

Sending him videos of you dancing in the nightclub and taking shots on the weekend whilst he’s away working. A pic of your breasts in a push bra and a little black dress.

“Fuckin’ hells bells,” he mumbles to himself as your video blares through his phone speaker (he’s always forgetting to turn the volume down). Gaz and ghost glaring at him as they pick their own personal items up after a long mission.

He replies instantly, but doesn’t get anything in return for hours. Just you sending a pic of yourself hungover in bed with your best friend.

You always meet him at the train station or airport. Waiting for him, running and jumping into his arms.

Dragging Johnny to rock festivals in the summer when he’s home. Making him mixtapes of your favourite bands so he can listen to it back at the base.

You work part-time at a tattoo studio doing piercings. Pierced Johnny’s eyebrow once and pouted when he had to remove it to go back to work. Also have random temp jobs here and there.

Johnny can’t believe the stuff that comes out of your mouth, even he wouldn’t say half of it.

“I would’na say tha’ lass.”

“Well I bet you’ll be using that line on your little radio with the boys.”

Constantly teasing him about being a serious military man. Even more so when a guy gets a bit too comfortable with you. Whenever you go out you’re never on time and he’s telling you down to the minute how long it’s been since you were supposed to leave.

“what’s that drop and give me twenty?” You shout back. Johnny stomping into your room and diving over the bed to get you. Mock saluting him as he’s got you cornered, as if that’s going to make up for it.

“Drop and give me somethin’ else.”

Love to play fight, but you’re still mad at Johnny for breaking your lava lamp that you bring it up all the time. You also bite him to get out of his hold, a scar on his bicep where your teeth sunk a little too deep.

When you finally move in together it’s chaotic, Johnny’s got a set routine and you just follow whatever mood you feel.

Loves hearing you play the acoustic guitar in the apartment, laying on the carpet in the living room whilst you sit and play. The scratch of your pen on paper as you create something new. Sunlight warm on his face, eyes closed as he listens to you humming along. Finds your guitar picks everywhere, even in his wash bag when he opens it at work.

Lazy Sundays are his favourite, your hand tracing the side of his shaved head as you hum.

Understanding about Johnny’s need to check the security regularly in the apartment and reminding you to keep your location on. Likes how you reassure him that he’s safe, those seconds when he wakes from a night terror and the weight of your hand on his, grounding him. Your scent comforting him as he rests his head on your stomach. Words whispered of all the things you used to be afraid of as a kid, silly little things to make him laugh.

“You know I think I was actually scared of my shadow.”

FaceTiming him to ask his opinion on your outfit for a night out. Johnny saying it’s not quite you, only so he can watch you change out of your clothes again.

“I have nothing to wear.” Your camera panning to the mess in the bedroom. The piles of clothes strewn over the floor and bed.

“Just stay, talk to me.” Johnny’s plan to keep you on the call working quicker than he thought. Leads to phone sex.

Johnny gets you a guitar that your dad used to have, your dad passed away years ago. Even down to the red embroidered guitar strap attached to it, so alike the one in the photograph of your dad teaching you to place as a kid. You try to teach Johnny how to play too, but he’s too distracted by how soft your voice is and the way you move his fingers each time. Distracted with how soft you are with him.

You’re not as scared of certain things, Johnny showing you that you can be strong on your own. Scared to drive after what happened to your dad. Johnny even taught you how to drive and now you can go anywhere, including visiting him at the army base.

When you meet the rest of TF141 guys you and Johnny are having a hot make out session on the sofa of the residential house at the base which they all live in. Thankfully it hadn’t escalated from just his tongue in your mouth, but you didn’t let it bother you as climbed off Johnny’s lap and greeted them.

You end up staying in and playing poker with the guys. Trading cigars, coins and anything you could find in your pockets. Price loses all his cigars to you, but you give the guys one each so you can smoke on the patio at 3am. Simon talking to you about an obscure rock band that isn’t really mainstream and you trade stories about some concerts he went to when he was teen. Gaz asks you if he can still use earrings even when he hasn’t for over a decade, which you repierce for him. Price telling you that you have a good one in there, his head nudging over his shoulder to Johnny in the house as you finish off your cigars.

[bvidzsoo]

Minaaaa, my lovely Mina, let me munch on your cheeks, you're literally so sweet my jaw was on the floor reading this...like SHUT UP

Ngl I was surprised when you said you'd be pushing back reading this cuz DAFUQ Hongjoong is literally your man, but priorities first, I guess-ahahaha, luv u don't come for me ok bye.

Anyways, I don’t even know where to start. Whenever I read something new of yours, it feels like you outdo your previous work, which is crazy because I always think, “This is it, this is the story!” But then you go ahead and prove me wrong by creating a new masterpiece that won’t leave my head for an X amount of time.

Man, keep your toes under the blanket tonight because I might just find them...you always say stuff that just makes me go AUDHIFBIIHFNKABSDKGF-

Both the MC and Hongjoong were really interesting characters in this story and for a good chunk into the fic, I didn't know what to think about Hongjoong. He was quite annoying in the beginning with his "know it all" talk and I feel like his attempt at cheering up the MC was so poorly done on his part, like what was he thinking talking sweet to her when another douchebag was already getting on her nerves? 😭 It wasn't even anything remotely nice, he literally talked about her as if she was an object. what is this shitshow of a man? 👹 I also like how you made his appearance give a hint of "I'm a mysterious guy" but he still turned out to be a douche. I feel like in most stories nowadays, the mysterious character is almost always flawless or perfect. They never get to fuck up.

I feel like you somehow always have beef with my male leads and idk if it's funny or if it's starting to make me sad AHAHAHA, Hongjoong was tryna do good but my mans was smoked out and also just...trying to help lmao. I didn't even intend to make him mysterious, but I'm certainly fine with it coming off like that. Our man, Hongjoong, is far from being perfect so it's good mister didn't get away with anything haha.

Oh, this shit got me fucked up. Lord knows I would've lost my job that night if a customer ever talked to me in that way. Matter of fact, I'd be put on a blacklist and be unemployed for the rest of my life because not only would I jump over the counter, but I'd beat the shit out of him until he wouldn't know the simplicity of the alphabet.

Lmao this sent me into a laughing fit cuz honestly...same, bestie, same. That man would've ended up with water tossed in his face minimum, and then would've come the hands throwing.

THE WAY I SCREAMED, LIKE FUUUUUCK!?!?!?!? WE GOT MULLET!JOONG CALLING ME A PRETTY BARISTA?????? THAT's ANOTHER THING — WE GOT MULLET JOONG BACK!!?! He can psycho analyze me all he wants baby- *GUNSHOT*

I guess this is how long your distaste for him lasted HAHA, I'm glad you'd rather have him [redacted] you than hate on him until the end of the drabble...wink wink

It's crazy how they haven't exchanged names until much later into the story :0 That's another thing that makes this story so real, their interactions aren't long enough for them to just stop and ask for each other's names, but they aren't that short to not have grown into some form of acquaintances.

tbh I haven't even thought about this, but them introducing each other later on felt more organic, so yup, you're right...they did grow into acquittances at last.

Is this said best friend perhaps Park Seonghwa? 👀

...maybe? 👀👀

The scene where Hongjoong and MC talk about their "dreams" /goals is so... nice and so real (again). How Hongjoong won't give his art to just anyone mirrors his irl personality too; how they value their works (songs and paintings) and just how much effort is put into it. We can clearly see the moment he "fell" in love with the MC. It wasn't the first night when she served him a Cosmopolitan or when she called him out on his bullshit, no that just caught his attention. The moment he knew MC was the possible one for him was when she saw him through his paintings. The MC subconsciously showed that she could see beyond Hongjoong's exterior and actually understand his soul. It's quite intimate, at least to me it felt like an intimate scene filled with a lot of emotions and to be frank, it's the best type of intimacy I've read in a while.

I hadn't even considered the fact that the Hongjoong in my story resembles the one irl, but I guess my subconscious is stronger since it worked without me even thinking of it ahahaha...but with that said, I'm glad I could make Hongjoong nuanced and true to his character, and he really did feel like he'd caught God's hand when the MC so easily saw through his art, seeing Hongjoong as he was and what he stood for. All in all...these two are a good pairing and I can assure you they have a happy future lined up in front of them ACK.

Thank you Minaa for reading and for possibly being my biggest supporter...? hehe, luv u lots<3

Through your colours

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: artist!Kim Hongjoong x barista!reader

੭ Warning: recreational drug use (weed), alcohol consumption, swearing ੭ Word count: 11k ੭ Rating: nc-17 ੭ Genre: fluff, angst-ish, slice of life, strangers to lovers, a hint of simp Joong? post university setting ੭ Summary: A broke barista and a broke artist meet in a student infested dingy pub, what do they have in common? The desire to make something great of themselves, to live a fulfilled life. But first impressions can go wrong, deterring people from each other. You're probably lucky that's not how your story with Hongjoong goes, though.

A/N: Hello, hello, my lovelies! I present you another story that was supposed to be a drabble but instead turned into...a smaller oneshot?? I consider anything that's below 15k a drabble because my oneshots just go over 20k all the time, save me! This idea came on a random whim while my pinterest suggested three photos lol, and it took me some time to write it, but it's here at last. Your feedback is greatly appreciated, let me know what you thought of this little story, and I hope you enjoy it! divider

            Gustav Klimt had once, sometime during the nineteenth century, stated that, “Art is a line around your thoughts”. This could be interpreted many ways, of course, but for an artist it was just as plain and simple as Mr Klimt had said. Whatever was on your mind, you could give it life by putting it on a piece of paper by the brush of ink and feather against the parchment, or by the swift twist of one’s wrist as their brush coloured their canvas. Art comes in many forms, many thoughts, and many interpretations. After all, everyone relates to it based by their own experiences, based on the emotions they feel and have felt before…and overall, their capacity of seeing beyond what’s shoved in front of their eyes. Maybe that’s why Hongjoong would stare at a painting or picture for hours on end without growing tired. He liked to see everything, he wanted to understand every stroke of brush, or why the lightning fell in that specific way on the item in the picture. Hongjoong wanted to feel the same emotions the author of the creation had felt while creating their piece. It helped him draw inspiration, expand his horizons towards new possibilities. Hongjoong liked new challenges as long as they were about his art. In life, he preferred the steady and sure lifestyle, the one that was predictable enough that it wouldn’t send him into an existential crisis over the smallest inconvenience.

Hongjoong needed order in his life since his art was all over the place, judged by many and often misunderstood. He didn’t paint just for the fun of it, sure, there were passion projects he started on a whim without much of a goal in mind, and usually those were well received by his professors, by his colleagues. But whenever Hongjoong wanted to say something through his art, he’d get scrutinized for it. He yet had to find that one person that saw beyond what others called a mess. He’s never thrived for attention or validation, but it had gotten lonely after a while when he realised nobody really understood him. He felt like he was the odd one even in a crowd full of odd people. He’d always been different, more open-minded and receptive to the changes in the world, and he’d always been judged for it. Here, instead of being frowned upon due to his character, he was sometimes ignored because his art was either dull or not good enough. Nobody seemed to understand that art is relative and subjective, that whatever lay on the canvas made by Hongjoong was his and would always be. That he had dipped his brush into a touch of colour from his soul, displaying it for the world to see on the once blank canvas. He became vulnerable for them and yet nobody had appreciated it yet. And so, Hongjoong got used to not being seen for his art, but for who he was.

Quirky with questionable fashion taste to many, bold because he wasn’t afraid to try out new styles—much like with his paintings—and intimidating because no matter how many times he tried out something new, he’d instantly make it his, owning whatever concept he had in mind. Hongjoong knew not everyone was against him out there, but it was easy to fall hostage to such thoughts when he was alone. It would make sense for an artist to have a mind clouded by questions and rarely answers, a mind that worked too fast and yet never good enough. Doubts and fears pulling one down, Hongjoong loved expressing it through his paintings, his hand nothing but a guide to the brush clutched tightly between his fingers, calling out to him even when he chose to step away. Hongjoong was in it for life, and he wondered whether the weeping willow tree by the river bank in his framed painting was a premonition for how his life would look like.

            The bar was busy like every other night in this student-infested town. It wasn’t even a surprise anymore, you should have known better than to wear your boots with high heels. There were no seconds to waste and even less time for breaks between preparing drinks, cleaning the bar, and running around the room to clean the tables too. Nobody wanted their hands sticky because someone had previously spilt their drink, and you were more than ready to clock out for the night. The only problem was, however, that you still had three hours left of your shift. You sighed as you averted your eyes from the clock, realising you hadn’t started preparing the drink the drunk college student had asked for on the other side of the bar. His eyes were glossy and he was swaying in his spot, you debated filling his cup with water rather than Vodka, but you couldn’t risk getting a complaint since your boss was a stinky little fucker. Your hands worked fast, and years spent doing this kind of work were showing as you did a few tricks, hoping you’d get a nice tip. You doubted the college guy would leave a huge tip, if anything at all, but at least you tried. It was all about trying in places like this one. Trying to stay calm when a customer was rude, trying to remain sane when night after night the DJ played the same playlist for the drunken students, trying to smile and hide the fact that you hated when these frat boys flirted with you. And also try and hide the fact that you were fed up with people, and needed at least a month away from civilisation.

But if one wanted to achieve something in life, one had to work for it to happen since it wouldn’t fall from the sky. Going abroad and starting a new life over there wasn’t for free, and it especially wouldn’t happen overnight. You were well aware of that, that’s why you were working day and night, taking up shifts that were probably too long to be healthy. But the dream you had in mind demanded such sacrifices, and if it meant working hard right now for a comfortable life in the future, you were willing to spend your nights sleepless and surrounded by annoying college students. You had been like them once, after all, but that was a few years ago, and since then, the harsh reality has awoken you. What was the purpose of a degree you couldn’t do anything with? Yeah, you could’ve laughed at yourself, but then it would soon turn into hysterical crying and you weren’t strong enough to deal with such emotions. You’ve cried enough, it was time you took action now. You sighed as another rush of bodies crowded the bar, asking for shots and long cocktails. You weren’t a fancy place by any means, but you served the usual sweet cocktails that could be found in every other place. Your hands worked fast as you catered to everyone’s likes, your coworker, Hanni, was somewhere lost between the students as she had gone to clean up the tables. And even in your rush, it seemed like you couldn’t satisfy everyone. It shouldn’t have phased you, but you’ve had a rough day today.

“Hey, babe, think you could work those hands faster, maybe?” You ignored the question and smiled as a group of girls paid for their pink cocktails, leaving a bigger tip than most men would. You felt grateful and felt your smile turn genuine when the tallest in the group winked at you before they became part of the rowdy crowd again. Then, you could face your impatient customer. He didn’t look like a student, way too old to be in a crowd filled with students, but who were you to judge? Some people go to college at a later age, maybe he wanted to get the full student experience. Although, you doubted a thirty-year-old had anything in common with young adults on the brink of maturing, if they managed to mature during their upper-level study days.

“What can I get for you?” Your voice was raised since the music was booming, and unfortunately, you also had to lean over the counter to hear the man better. For some reason, that made the man smirk as he leaned forward as well, eyeing you up as if you were a piece of meat. You ignored it as your teeth ground together, you’ve seen men like him before, he wasn’t the first to act like this and you knew he wouldn’t be the last one either.

“How about…you, sugar?” Your expression didn’t budge as his smirk became shit eating as if he had accomplished anything by saying that. You waited, without blinking or reacting to what he’s said, hoping he’d catch on that he wasn’t hilarious nor flirty.

“Don’t we all wish to have a piece of the pretty barista?” That managed to throw you off as your head whipped to the side, eyebrows furrowing as you just now noticed the newcomer. He was…well, something else for sure. He wore no casual or ordinary clothes, nothing you could compare to the annoying frat boys or just the other dudes with a regular fashion sense. His hair was dark but it looked a little fried, as if it had been bleached already one too many times before. His white blouse was loose and tucked in at the waist, his black pants wide and reaching below his ankles. A thick belt was secured around the guy’s petit waist, and if you looked harder, you swore you could see a dark blue bow tied to it. His brown vest seemed to elevate the outfit even more, the pleated brown choker sitting at the base of his throat with a few other silver chains, a ruby pendant hitting his pecks as he was leaning against the counter lazily. His hip was jutted out and his painted nails tapped against the side of his head, cat-like eyes blinking slowly as he watched you. The hat he wore looked something like you’ve only seen in Peaky Blinders, and for a second, you almost chuckled. He looked peculiar but not in a negative sense, it’s just that you haven’t seen someone like him stumble inside the pub before. He didn’t seem to belong with the crowd and that would’ve been something you’d appreciate on any other day than today.

“I don’t think we were talking to you, no?” The cocky man in front of you raised a mocking eyebrow at the other guy, and you rolled your eyes for a second. But before you could answer, the other guy did for you.

“You threatened my game is better than yours?” The artsy-looking guy asked with a chuckle, his tone was more on the higher side, and you found yourself not irked by it too much. But you weren’t here to have men measure their cocks by who can get the barista’s phone number faster, so you interrupted them before they could piss you off even more.

“Listen, fellas, I don’t have all night. What do you want?” Your tone was sharp, straight to the point, and shut down all attempts at flirting as the man in front of you scoffed, shooting a dirty look at the peculiar-looking one. You tilted your head as the older man finally faced you, trying to downplay his irritation as he plastered on a charming smile again. It made your jaw tick again, but you said nothing more.

“Do you have whiskey?” You were already reaching for the bottle of Whiskey before the man was finished talking, your other hand grabbing a glass as Hanni finally returned to the bar, her tray filled with dirty glasses.

“I’ll just wash these and come help.” She said as she passed by you and you nodded, filling the man’s glass with ice and whiskey, not too much but not too little either. Who even drinks Whiskey in a place like this one? But you didn’t care as long as he’d be out of your hair, so you placed the glass on the counter, but before you could tell the guy how much it was, he had already slid a bill on the counter, sauntering away. You grabbed it and pushed it into your fanny pack, taking a step back to take a deep breath. You could do this, Hanni was back and maybe you could ask her to cover for you for five minutes. A bathroom break was allowed at any time, after all. Your small moment, however, was interrupted by a scoff. You blinked your eyes open and looked towards where the sound came from, eyes narrowing when you realised the other guy was still lingering around.

“What a pig, he didn’t even tip you.” You had to agree with his slurred words but instead walked over with an impassive expression. You weren’t here to be nice or to make friends, and you never failed to make it clear to your customers. These entitled dudes thought they could get your number and get in your pants with just a few—fake—nice words, you could confidently say you hated them all and that they made you wish you never again encountered their species. But alas, that wouldn’t happen tonight, so you headed over to the pompous guy, raising an eyebrow. He was intriguing, you couldn’t deny that, but you also knew not to mingle with guys who frequented the pub. So, even if one sparked your interest, at the end of the day, you’d still walk home alone and relish in the quiet of your room.

“What can I get for you?” You tried to keep your tone level as your hip pressed into the counter, feet aching now even more. You were ready to chuck your damn boots at the wall and call it a night, but as Hanni flashed you her typical sweet smile, you knew you couldn’t leave her alone in the wolf's den. She was too sweet and too naïve, smiling and laughing along to the shitty jokes of the frat boys who were eyeing her up with little regard for the fact that she was visibly uncomfortable.

“Something sweet like you.” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, telling yourself to keep your cool. He wasn’t saying anything offensive, unlike many other men, he just kept calling you sweet and pretty. That could be considered even nice, but not tonight.

“The menu is literally behind me, you can choose anything from it.” You pointed a finger behind yourself, where you knew the menu was hung high on the wall so that everyone could see it. The peculiar guy just gave you a look of confusion before looking past you, blinking his eyes lazily once again. You tapped your fingers against the counter, waiting for his choice, glad that you could take a breather now that nobody was crowding to get their drinks refilled. Hanni whizzed past you when she noticed a smaller group of girls approaching, her smile reaching her ears and already talking to them, beckoning them closer. Hanni was an excellent barista, she kept her customers entertained and always engaged with them…unlike you, but that’s why your duo worked so well. You were the stoic one and she was the sunshine, but you were both quick on your feet so your boss couldn’t complain.

“Uh, I’ll take a Cosmopolitan.” The guy finally decided and you quirked an eyebrow, grabbing the shaker.

“That’s not sweet.” It was unlike you to make conversation, but the words were on the tip of your tongue so you couldn’t ignore them. The guy chuckled, letting his elbows rest on the counter as he placed his chin in his palms. Your eyes raised for a second to look at him, and you were taken aback by how cute he looked. But as he blinked slowly again, a small smile spreading onto his lips as he watched you, you quickly focused your attention on his Cosmo.

“I know, I was just trying to make you feel better.” He sighed, tracing a manicured finger against the dirty counter. You had to clean that too. As you grabbed some olive to stash on a toothpick, you followed his finger with your eyes and noticed the two silver and shiny rings on his finger, his nail done a neon yellow with a black smiley face painted on top of it.

“What do you even know…” You scoffed to yourself, placing the martini glass on the counter for the guy to take. He was still looking at you, his eyes hazy, and you allowed yourself to take in his features. He had a petite and sharp nose, pretty and well-fitting with his sharp jawline and otherwise intimidating eyes if it wasn’t for the smile in them. His lips were more plump than thin with a pretty Cupid’s bow, slightly pouty as he gave you a small frown.

“Well, I bet you don’t plan on wasting your life away here.” The way he spoke had an airy feel to it, as if he wasn’t really thinking before speaking, “And by the looks of it, it seems as if your degree didn’t take you too far as of now, which is not a big deal, people change their minds all the time.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as the guy reached for his Cosmo, your fingers brushing together since you hadn’t retracted your hand yet. You ignored how warm his fingers felt, the softness of them as they lightly brushed against yours, “It’s just sad to see talented people waste their lives away in places like this one, you know? I mean, we all go to college to make something of ourselves, but then we end up in a dimly lit and smelly bar, selling alcohol to entitled pricks, forced to listen to their attempts at flirting, or them berating us for ‘not’ doing our job. Sure, it’s honest work, but at the end of the day, when you walk home after an ungodly long shift, you still hate yourself, so…”

Something in you broke at his last sentence, making you gulp hard. You still hate yourself, the guy had said with the most easy-going expression on his face, a slight smile pulling at his lips as he continued to blink lazily at you. What did he even know when he was clearly wearing designer clothes to a pub where alcohol could be spilt on you, among many other things? Who was he to assume you couldn’t do anything with your degree, rubbing it in your face that he knew people ended up like this when he clearly came from a rich background with all those accessories on him, his tone airy and almost mocking. Your jaw clenched again as you realised you had tears in your eyes, and your hand came down harshly on the counter as the guy slipped a bill towards you, way over the price of his damn Cosmopolitan.

“Go fuck yourself.” You snapped as you threw the change back at him, watching his expression fall, his eyebrows raising comically high. You didn’t sit around to listen to him trying to get your attention again, you brushed past Hanni and leaned down to tell her that you needed five minutes. She gave you a worried look before nodding, letting you head to the bathroom as a few tears spilt down your cheeks. Today was complete shit, you couldn’t wait to get home and ignore all the responsibilities and problems you had. You were doing this for a better future, this was just a small fragment of your life, and it wouldn’t last forever. At least you really hoped so.

            You released a long sigh as the cool air hit your face, eyes stinging from the sudden coldness as the red backdoor slammed shut behind you. Hanni and you kept telling your boss to change the hinges, but he had more important things to take care of, of course. Stepping aside so that the door wouldn’t slam into your back if any staff member decided to come outside at this moment, you leaned against the cold wall, pushing your hands into your pockets. You didn’t bother grabbing your jacket, although you should have given the fact that your skin was now covered in goosebumps, teeth slightly chattering. It was always a whiplash coming outside from that parched pub, having to forcefully push through the bodies too busy to notice your approaching form. It was another busy night, the weekend was approaching so the students were coming in waves that the pub could barely house. You’ve been telling your boss that you should put a capacity limit, but he wouldn’t make as much money like that as he was making now, so of course, he said no. He was a greedy monster and he didn’t even try to hide it.

Just as you closed your eyes, you heard a loud tsk followed by a hiss, and your head jerked to the side, your eyes widening. You hadn’t realised there was someone else here with you, too taken by your own thoughts of wondering what you’d cook for dinner…if you make it home at a decent hour, which was looking less and less likely to be. With your eyes narrowed and head turned, you tried to find the source where the sound had come from, eyebrows furrowing when you noticed someone crouched down right by the door, their head lowered over their knees. It wasn’t your business what anyone was doing, really, but if a client was feeling unwell and would need assistance, you’d feel guilty if you just walked away without a word. So, sighing to yourself, you pushed off the wall and took a few steps to approach the person, eyes taking in the black messy curls on the top of his head. The person had a baby mullet growing out, framing his pale nape. You cleared your throat and reached down, gently poking at the guy’s shoulder.

“Hey, you good?” You asked unsure, eyebrows furrowing when the guy grunted only. Tilting your head, you realised he was shielding his left hand, his right thumb trying to roll the sparkwheel of his lighter, but to no avail.

“Yeah, this bloody thing won’t work.” The guy groaned, shaking his lighter as he tilted his head back, a hand-rolled cigarette hanging between his lips. Your eyes widened as you realised the face was familiar, having seen him just yesterday. The guy’s eyes looked innocent as they rounded, recognition flashing in his too. You gulped and straightened up, your expression slightly hardening as the guy’s harsh words from yesterday rang through your ears. He seemed pretty fine to you, but before you could step aside and go back inside, he spoke up.

“Hi there, pretty barista.” He then grinned, a lazy pull of his cherry-red lips, his tone easy. You didn’t expect him to be so easy-going after what you had said to him, but it almost looked like the guy wasn’t bothered by you cursing him out…maybe he really wasn’t, “You on a break?”

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, watching as he struggled to get his lighter to work. You had one in your pocket, but you found a bit of satisfaction in watching him struggle. Maybe if he asked whether you had one, you’d let him use yours. But people who didn’t ask wouldn’t get help, that’s what your father taught you, at least.

“Obviously.” You muttered matter of fact as the guy hummed, grinning wickedly when the lighter finally sparked to life, allowing him to light his cigarette. You watched as the flame danced in front of his face, making his dark eyes appear amber-like, sharper from this angle. You realised, alarmed, that you were appreciating his looks so you quickly stopped, looking away as the guy puffed out a whiff of smoke.

“You want some?” The guy asked, reaching his hand toward you as you eyed the cigarette, its smell hitting you. It was too herbal to be a normal cigarette, you belatedly realised as you watched the guy take another hit of his joint.

“What’s in it?” You decided to ask, just to make sure. If you were wrong and it was a regular cigarette, maybe you’d accept a smoke. You didn’t usually smoke but you were still tired from yesterday’s shift, and something that could loosen your nerves would be highly appreciated.

“Good stuff.” The guy grinned, giggling even a little, and the sound almost put a smile on your lips, but you caught yourself in time and instead shook your head, pushing your hands into your pockets again.

“I’m working, so, no.” The guy just hummed as he looked up at you again, taking a drag of his joint as you gulped and everted your eyes. It felt like he was gazing right through you and into your soul as your eyes had met, and given the fact that you were still butt-hurt over what he had said to you yesterday, you refused to look at him too long…you’d only admire his beauty, either way. He wore a fuzzy yellow and pink sweater today, his brown dress pants looking way too thin for this weather, but the guy didn’t seem to mind. His nails stood out with their unique design, and he wore fewer rings today but more earrings than yesterday.

“Hey, yesterday…what I said at the bar, I didn’t mean to berate you.” The guy gulped, his eyebrows furrowing as you looked back at him, slightly taken aback to see such sincerity on his face. You’ve never met someone so easily readable before, “My intention wasn’t to hurt you, I was smoked out too so I was just running my mouth, I do that when I’m high, sorry…”

A beat of silence passed as the two of you shared an apprehensive look, making you bite your bottom lip. You cleared your throat and at last averted your eyes, kicking a few pebbles towards the guy without meaning to, “Right, I shouldn’t have cursed you out either…I’m sorry too, I guess.”

The guy hummed, a smile slowly appearing on his lips before he took another drag of his cigarette, his eyes boring into yours again, “I’m glad the pretty barista doesn’t hate my guts anymore.”

You have no idea what took over you, but your cheeks were suddenly flushing as if you had been noticed by your crush for the first time, your skin prickling. You weren’t one to care about the compliments your clients gave since most of them were only trying to get in your pants, but this guy seemed to be genuine. He didn’t try to hit on you, he was just calling you pretty, and it was getting to you. You hummed and turned towards the door, hand reaching out for the knob when suddenly the guy spoke again, “Humans are easily susceptible, you know? We judge without knowing first, and we rarely apologise and recognise our mistakes. I hate people like that, rude people for no reason too. I don’t stand for all that bullshit, so I’m glad you told me to fuck myself instead of smiling at me like you do with all the other assholes. I appreciate your hard work, we all have to make due somehow and you aren’t less for working in this pub, pretty barista.”

There he was again, making your chest feel heavy as you huffed, a sarcastic smile pulling at your lips. Once again, what did he know about you? Maybe you loved this damned job, maybe being a barista in a shitty pub has been your lifelong dream. You almost scoffed at yourself, eyes narrowing as the guy took more drags of his joint, seemingly waiting for an answer that you didn’t exactly want to give. But you didn’t want him to have the last word, much like yesterday, so you plastered on a sarcastic smirk, “There you go again, blabbering your mouth when you’re smoked out.”

You didn’t expect the guy to start laughing loudly, his head falling back as it landed against the wall, his eyes crinkling at the corners. You didn’t mean to gape, but he was beautiful and painfully honest, it was refreshing in a world full of fakeness. He was an intriguing person, and you would’ve allowed yourself to become interested in him if only you had met in a different setting. With a hum and lingering eyes, you pushed the door open as the guy nodded at you in goodbye once he realised you were leaving for good. And with a faster beating heart, you willed yourself to focus on the few hours that you still had of your shift.

            It’s been quite a while since you had the chance to wake up at the crack of dawn without feeling tired, or without having to rush in for an early shift. Through hard work, you had earned these two days of break, and while you wished you had been given a full week, you made sure to utilise these two days wisely. You had always been an early bird, wishing to wake with the sun, opening your windows to hear the song of the birds, but it was too cold for them to hunker down in front of your window today. You didn’t mind, you’d take a stroll after your breakfast and check out the new art store that’s opened not too far from your apartment. You’ve heard great things about it, the prices seemed to be reasonable, and it had an adjoint bookstore and a coffee shop as well. A quick check on the internet showed you just how cozy it was, so you thought you could buy a book from your to read list and settle down in the coffee shop. It sounded like a great plan to destress and forget for a bit about work and all the idiots that kept you up at night, quite literally.

Your scarf was thick as you buried your nose into it, trying to keep it warm from the cold chill of the early morning. The city was awake with you, orange sun rising on the horizon and blinding you as you were walking towards it, you couldn’t help but smile. It warmed your cheeks and body, feeling the sun on your skin during cold season always felt like a blessing, you would always relish in it as much as you could because you knew it wouldn’t last for long. You exhaled as your eyes remained squinted, watching the people around you as you walked towards your destination. Kids were rushing to school, parents by their sides guiding them, and traffic was as crazy as ever, impatient drivers honking and disturbing the little peace everyone had. You paid it no mind and felt thankful that you were able to wake up so early instead of just going to bed, all tired and wishing for your boss to fire you. But if he did fire you, you would be in trouble, so you didn’t actually wish for that to happen. And suddenly as you turned the corner, the guy’s words from the bar managed to ring through your ears once again. Working at the pub was just as much of an honest job as it would’ve been working anywhere else.

You sighed, realising you were thinking about him again. You’ve been doing this a lot lately, letting your mind wander to his peculiar fashion sense and even more peculiar way of thinking. He seemed almost raw with his words and thoughts, unafraid to say them to your face. It was refreshing and intriguing, but you couldn’t let yourself be sidetracked right now. You had a purpose, and that was working until you had enough money to move away. If somehow a guy came into the picture right now, you felt like that would mess up all your plans and vision of the future. Under no circumstance would you stay here, but you knew your heart would betray you and try to keep you here for longer, with your lover. You didn’t even want to think of the guy as a potential love interest, you didn’t even know each other, so you shoved these thoughts to the back of your mind as you reached the art store, eyes widening at its exterior.

You haven’t seen anything quite like it before, the windows reached from ceiling to floor, a clear view of what was going on inside. There was a spiral staircase that led to the higher level which was littered with bookcases and low hanging retro chandeliers, bean bags spaced out on the floor as people sat around with books in their hands. To the right was the coffee shop with a separate entrance if you were only here for coffee, but you could also enter through the art store. And the art store was gorgeous as you made your way inside, the double doors opening easily. A sweet scent hit your nostrils as you walked further inside, your eyes wide as you took in the whole place. Paintings were hung on the walls, blank canvas placed underneath as many shelves housed all kinds of art supplies. The clerks were all smiley and they welcomed you warmly once they noticed your arrival. Maybe you could find a nicer workplace, something like this one. The workload seemed less strenuous and the people that came here to shop were less rowdy and rude. As much as you loved admiring the fine arts, you didn’t have the talent for drawing or painting, you could mess up even something as simple as a cloud. It was embarrassing, but arts have never been your forte, so you headed for the staircase to look for the book you had on your mind.

Navigating around the many shelves seemed a bit intimidating at first, but then you noticed they were sectioned on different genres, the tags hanging low from the ceiling with an arrow pointing towards the section to help you out. You smiled to yourself as you unrolled your scarf from around your neck, the warmth of the store helping your frozen fingers as you turned down a corner, two tall bookshelves on your sides. At the end of the row sat a younger girl with a manga in her hand, another one pressed to her lips as she seemed to be giggling. You felt yourself smile as you came near her, looking at the titles of the books. Asking for a clerk to help you find the book you were looking for would’ve helped enormously, but you found yourself wanting to stroll around in the warmth, fingers grazing the spines of the books. The girl giggled just a bit louder and blushed when you glanced her way. This wasn’t a library, so she wasn’t disturbing anyone, but she was still mindful of those around her. You turned the corner once again, finding the High Fantasy section, having made your research beforehand, you knew you were in the right place. It took a bit more cruising down the row to finally find the book you were looking for, and you grinned when you found it, taking it off the shelf.

You thought about strolling around the store more just to discover it further, maybe they had cheap trinkets you could buy. You even thought about paying a visit the coffee shop as well, maybe they had one of your favourite patisserie delicacies. You wouldn’t turn down something sweet right now, you didn’t have a sweet tooth necessarily, but there were days when your cravings got the better of you. With that in mind, you headed back the way you had come, sneaking another glance at the younger girl as she gasped, manga now clutched tightly in both of her hands. You chuckled before you rounded the corner, now back on the main aisle that led to the spiral staircase. You noticed that most people who were inside the store looked to be college students, their outfits mismatched colours and patterns, hair coloured something vibrant as most of them had piercings you never even thought possible before. You really liked their style and found yourself staring at them, blushing when a girl caught you and raised an eyebrow before she smiled. You nodded your head and hurried down the stairs, flustered and a little embarrassed. They oddly reminded you of the guy from the bar, you thought he’d somehow fit right in with the people inside the store. It looked something he’d enjoy, not that you knew anything about him besides that he smoked weed, wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, and had a nice sense of fashion.

You were looking at the hard cover of your book as you got to the base of the staircase, taken by the pretty illustration and completely unaware that someone was headed straight towards you, just as taken by items in his hands as you were by your book. The collision could’ve been avoided if you both had been paying attention to where you were going, but alas, you gasped loudly as you felt a hard body collide into yours, items spilling loudly onto the floor. Your head shoot up, eyes wide as you looked at the equally startled man and—wait, it was the same guy from the bar! You gulped, suddenly feeling nervous as your cheeks burned, but the guy hadn’t noticed you yet as he had crouched down to collect his items off the floor. You felt bad and hoped the expensive palette on the ground hadn’t been broken, so you crouched down too and reached for it to inspect it. The guy still hadn’t quite noticed that it was you out of all people, but as you reached for the same brush, his head raised sharply. Your smile was apologetic as the guy’s eyes widened, recognition flashing on his face. This was the third time you met this week, the sheer coincidence of meeting outside the pub was a bit jarring…especially since you’ve been just thinking about him.

“Pretty barista from the pub!” He motioned towards you then chuckled, letting you pick up the brush. Your book was placed on the ground next to you so your hands were free to help.

“Hi,” Your voice came out a lot shier than you had intended it to be, and you chewed on your bottom lip awkwardly, “Sorry about this, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Don’t worry,” The guy chuckled, scooping up the small canvases, “I wasn’t either. If it makes you feel better, it was both of our faults.”

You hummed and grabbed the last item off the floor, standing at the same time as the guy. His arms were filled with his items, and you wondered if you handed over the four in your hands how he’d be able to carry everything. Despite the cold weather outside, he was underdressed. He wore a simple turtleneck with a brown knitted vest over it, long flowy plants and mismatched tennis shoes. As you both stepped aside from the staircase to make way for others, you cleared your throat and averted your eyes once you realised you were staring again. But you hadn’t seen him wearing glasses before, and with the curly strands falling over his forehead, he didn’t only look handsome but cute as well.

“What brings you here?” The guy made conversation as you tried to figure out how to hand him his items without making him drop them all again, “I say this without meaning to be rude, but you seem like the last person who’d be interested in art.”

You huffed, not bothered by his honesty, “While that statement is incorrect, I’m not here due to the art section of the store. I was looking for a book.”

“Right!” He exclaimed, glancing down at his own chest, “Oh, sorry, you can hand me those, I can carry them!”

“Are you sure?” You asked as he nodded enthusiastically, so you complied. You stepped closer to place the other four items in his arms, watching as he clinched the smaller canvas underneath his chin to keep it from falling. You would’ve laughed and offered to help until he got himself a bag or something, but the guy looked pretty content like this. Like it wasn’t his first time doing this…

“Are you collecting them?” The guy’s incomplete question left you raising a confused eyebrow at him, “Sorry, I saw you’re buying The Hobbit. It’s a pretty famous reprint, the covers are gorgeous, my best friend is collecting them so I assumed you are too.”

You glanced down at the book in your hand and bit your bottom lip, trying to brush off your embarrassment. Why were you feeling like this all of a sudden? It made no sense, but you didn’t want to leave a bad impression on the guy…even though his perception of you might already be fucked since this wasn’t your first time meeting.

“I’ve, uh, so, uhm, I have a to read list for books I’ve never read while growing up, so now I have a little tradition that I buy a book from the list each month and read it.” You spoke quickly, avoiding eye contact as the guy listened to your ramble. His intake of breath was sharp and you chanced a glance at his face, finding his eyes wide and his mouth rounded.

“Wait. Are you saying you haven’t read The Hobbit before?!” He sounded incredulous and alarmed, and your cheeks grew hot once again, actually managing to sour your mood a bit. Not having read the book didn’t make you less by any means, but you had a feeling this guy was well-versed in literature, so it felt like a jab and even a subtle scrutinising.

“Yeah, not everyone likes reading while growing up…” Your tone grew cold and voice snappish as you continued to avoid eye contact, looking towards the front desk so that maybe the guy would get the hint that you were done with this conversation. But it didn’t actually surprise you that he continued speaking without noticing you didn’t want to keep conversing anymore.

“That’s totally cool, my brother hated comic books growing up and now he’s obsessed with them.” The guy chuckled, expression innocent and tone genuinely excited, “I think you’ll love the book, it’s filled with adventure and otherworldly creatures. It’s a nice step back from our grim reality, I feel like you need that right now.”

Okay, there he was assuming again that he could just…psychoanalyse you or whatever, “Can you stop doing that? I’m not a painting you can interpret to your liking.”

The guy blinked, face going blank before his cheeks flushed, his gaze averted now from yours, “I…have I been doing it all this time?”

“Ever since we’ve met.” Your answer was sharp and quick and the guy blushed even more.

“Oh, sorry, I just…I’ll stop doing that,” Then he smiled awkwardly and held eye contact with you, “I’m Hongjoong, by the way, I don’t remember introducing myself.”

Because he hadn’t. You repeated his name in your head, finding yourself liking the sound of it, it seemed like a fitting name for him. You hummed, extending your hand.

“I’m Y/N.” But you and Hongjoong glanced down at your extended hand and then his occupied ones at the same time, chuckles leaving your mouths as he seemed flustered.

“I’m shake your hand the next time we see other.”

“If there will be a next time.”

“I quite like the pub you work at, pretty barista.” You cleared your throat and avoided looking at him because as corny as it was, it kind of made your heart flutter. What was happening? The chiming of the doorbell reminded you that it was time you left and took care of other errands you had in your schedule, but before you could say goodbye to Hongjoong, he asked a question that took you off guard, “Wanna grab a cup of coffee with me?”

Then he turned sideways, nodding towards the adjoined café, and you hesitated for a second. You could actually slip in a little time to have coffee with him, but you felt reluctant. You had met him at the pub, after all, and you still couldn’t decide what type of person he was. Of course, he was handsome, and so far, has showed a good character, but there were little moments when he somehow managed to ruin everything with his words. And he was still a complete stranger, so, listening to your rational mind, you slowly shook your head.

“I don’t like coffee, but thanks!” Your smile was easy, Hongjoong’s face morphed into something knowing as he hummed with a nod.

“Sure, I’m glad I caught you here.” Then, as you were about to take off, he added, “The pretty barista now has a name, I can say my morning was successful.”

You tried to huff and look irked, but the blush betrayed you. You just shook your head before heading for the front desk, “Goodbye, Hongjoong.”

“See ya!” His smile was radiant as he turned around and headed for the café instead, and you realised he was underdressed because he had come from the coffee shop, his things already there. And with Hongjoong on your mind, you followed his distinctive walk as he sauntered over to his table with an elegancy yet swagger you hadn’t seen before.

            Now, a week ago you probably would have said no to a preposition that involved you following home a complete stranger whose name you had known for a maximum of four days, but tonight had been literal shit and you were on the verge of tears when Hongjoong had sauntered over to the bar, his Chesire like smile blinding. You had one more hour left of your shift and you’d be clocking out, not even staying behind to help Hani clean up. Your cramps were terrible and a guy who hit on you for the whole night had spilt his drink on your favourite blouse, calling you a bitch as well for shunning him away, so, when you saw Hongjoong approach the bar with mischief in his eyes, you were ready to scream at him and tell him to get lost. Except that you didn’t do all that because his question completely threw you off guard.

“Y/N, do you like art?” He had a rolled-up joint resting at his ear, his hair pulled to the side and clipped back with colourful hair clips. Your laugh that bubbled past your lips sounded incredulous and tired, but you nodded.

“I do, do you want something to drink?” Hongjoong shook his head, leaning across the bar despite it being wet from spilt alcohol.

“When does your shift end?”

“In an hour.”

“Wanna see some of my art?” Then Hongjoong grinned, looking proud of himself, “I’m a painter.”

Something came over you and didn’t even let you ponder over your decision, “Do you have weed?”

The answer was obvious as you glanced at the joint and Hongjoong laughed, tilting his head in a way that sharpened his features under the neon lights of the pub.

“Obviously, got some on me right now. Want some?” Not while you were working, afterwards, however, you were free to do whatever.

“After my shift, yeah.”

“Cool, I’ll meet you in the back. See ya.”

And that’s how you ended up at Hongjoong’s apartment, not even ten minutes away from the pub. Your feet ached and your cramps were so bad you felt like doubling over and emptying your already empty stomach, but you tried to hold yourself together in front of Hongjoong. There was a nervous flutter in your chest as you had followed him up the steel staircase, the building old and dodgy. However, the second you walked inside his studio apartment, it felt like you had entered a different realm. He was the true definition of an artist, you came to realise, with canvas strewn around the apartment, most finished but some blank, oil paint tainting the wooden floor and even the walls. The colours were neutral, beige with a slip of sage green here and there, the curtains sheer and pulled to the side as Hongjoong hurried over to the windows to push them open. There was an earthy smell in the air mixed with something sweet like vanilla, and you couldn’t help but marvel at the cosiness of Hongjoong’s studio. You recognised a few prints on the walls, they were the paintings of well-known painters who no longer lived, and the décor Hongjoong had used was rather vintage than modern. His huge wardrobe was open, and he pushed the door closed with little care as he picked up a hoodie off the floor. You were surprised he even owned one of those.

You flinched when it collided against your head, confused as to why he had thrown it at you. Hongjoong chuckled as he shrugged his coat off, trying to tidy his messy bed but quickly giving up when he realised you didn’t look like you cared. Truthfully, your apartment wasn’t in a better shape, the dishes in the sink had been there for three days and your bathroom was in dire need of a deep clean.

“We can’t smoke weed with closed windows, so it’ll get colder.” Hongjoong suddenly explained, shrugging on a cardigan that looked very soft, “Wear my hoodie, it’ll keep you warm.”

You hummed, glancing down at it before you stepped out of your shoes, shrugging your jacket off and wearing the hoodie. Its scent was sweet but potent with something musky, and you blushed as your nose buried into its fabric, drinking in its soft material.

“Make yourself feel at home!” Hongjoong grinned, walking over to the small kitchen section to grab two cups, “Do you want tea?”

You shook your head as you walked towards the small bean bag, pushing it with your leg to try and get it more gathered together. And then, just as you were about to sink into the chair, you heard a faint sound come from the kitchen. You turned your head and were met with a small black creature blinking at you in wonder.

“You have a cat?” You asked in surprise, staring back at the little pet. Hongjoong chuckled, looking down at his pet as the electric kettle started whistling.

“Is it so surprising? I found him near a dumpster a few years ago, he’s been by my side ever since.” You couldn’t help but gaze at Hongjoong with admiration as he spoke, pouring hot water into his cup for the tea, “His name is Woo ‘cuz he reminds me of my friend. They are both rascals and really loud.”

As if on cue, the cat meowed loudly and you chuckled, finally easing yourself into the bean bag. Your lower back protested and your spine cracked as you allowed yourself to lean back, arching your back. You could’ve cried at the relief, thankful to finally be off your feet. You couldn’t wait for the weed, it would dull your cramps and help you ease up after the day you’ve had. You were probably in dire need of a shower since you smelled like alcohol, but you didn’t feel comfortable showering at a guy’s place you barely knew. Which, now that you thought more about it, realisation started setting in. You weren’t too smart for following Hongjoong home, but he had never creeped you out, so you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt tonight. You stared at the cat as Hongjoong mixed honey into his berry-flavoured tea, the warm mist hogging up his glasses. The cat, still at Hongjoong’s side, stared back at you and then slowly walked towards you, its head tilted in wonder. You smiled at it and let it smell your fingers, taking you off guard when it unceremoniously climbed into your lap, starting to make biscuits against your lower abdomen.

“Ah, of course, you’re already in the lap of the pretty barista.” Hongjoong mused with an amused smile on his lips, “You take after Wooyoung more than one would think.”

You had no idea who this Wooyoung guy was, but it sounded like he was a flirt if Hongjoong wasn’t bluffing.

“I like your apartment,” You blurted out as you started petting the cat, smiling down at it when it started purring, “It’s got character, much like you.”

“That’s the first time you said something completely honest to me.” Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked up at Hongjoong, the joint from his ear now gone as he grabbed some matches to light it up. You didn’t think that was true, but you didn’t say anything as Hongjoong came nearer, sitting down on the floor across from you. You looked at him as he took a long whiff of his joint, then extended his arm for you to take the weed. It’s been quite a while since you smoked any, you knew it would hit you faster, but you hoped it wasn’t too strong or you’d become sick. You took a careful drag of it as Woo settled into a slumber in your lap, and the earthy taste of it made you grimace. But you kept the smoke in your lungs for a bit before exhaling, taking another drag as Hongjoong watched you with a lazy smile. He looked so…handsome. You’ve had a few days to yourself to think about Hongjoong after your encounter in the art store, and you realised you were attracted to him. It was mostly physical since you liked his looks, but his brutally honest character also had you intrigued even if you’d get offended at times by what he was saying.

“I find it hilarious that you decided to come home with me after you declined to have coffee.” Your eyes met Hongjoong’s quickly just as you were about to hand over the joint, “Do you really don’t drink coffee? Or did you just want to get rid of me that day?”

“I…” You licked your lips as Hongjoong took the joint from you, grinning as he took a long drag once again, “Both, actually. I just…I don’t know you well enough and we’ve also met at the pub, I don’t like meddling with clients. Those frat boys are horny and only want to sleep with me.”

“Good thing I’m not a frat boy then, right, Woo?” Hongjoong grinned and ruffled the slumbering cat’s fur, looking back at you with an understanding look, “I’ll be done with my master’s degree in just a few months.”

You hummed, picking at the sleeve of Hongjoong’s hoodie before you saw the joint handed to you again, “And after that? What do you plan on doing?”

Suddenly, Hongjoong had a pensive look on his face as he leaned back on his arms, staring up at the ceiling. You took shorter drags of the joint now but kept the smoke in your lungs until it started burning.

“I want to travel the world, visit art galleries and drink a lot of expensive wine.” That didn’t sound bad at all, Hongjoong continued before you could tell him, “It’s hard breaking into the industry as a painter even though some realtors have already approached me to buy my paintings and put them on display.”

“And? What did you say to them?” You felt genuinely curious, the cat sighed loudly in your lap and Hongjoong looked at you two, reaching out for the joint. Your fingertips brushed together and Hongjoong’s hands felt too cold, but you didn’t comment on it.

“I turned them down,” Hongjoong smiled, but it looked almost sad before he shrugged, taking a drag, “I don’t want just anyone owning my creations. I want someone who understands what’s on that canvas to contact me, I want someone who genuinely loves art and isn’t just doing it for the money. It’s hard to find people like that nowadays, but I’m willing to wait as long as it takes…even if that makes me broke.”

Hongjoong scoffed out a chuckle, sounding bitter by the end of his sentence. For someone who was so good at reading others and commenting on their lives, Hongjoong seemed to be having his own demons he had to fight. You hummed, closing your eyes for a second as you felt your muscles ease up, your cramps less torturous. You were glad the weed was slowly kicking in, your cramps would’ve had you crying if not.

“So how do you plan on travelling if you have no money?” Maybe the question was insensitive, but you were curious. Hongjoong didn’t take offence as he smiled, looking at you with sparkling eyes.

“There are art courses all around the world, I might sign up for one and leave, never look back…”

“Do you hate it here?” The question tumbled past your lips before you could stop yourself, “Because I don’t.”

Hongjoong didn’t look surprised as he nodded, handing back the joint so you could finish it. Three drags and it would be gone, so you took your time savouring it.

“It’s not the worst, but I don’t see much of a future for myself here.” So, Hongjoong was just like you then, “When are you leaving?”

“How did you know?” You sounded shocked as Hongjoong shrugged, averting his eyes.

“You and I are rather similar, you just fail to see it, Y/N.” Well, maybe he was right, maybe he wasn’t. You couldn’t read Hongjoong as well as he could read you, you needed more time to feel out his character.

“Six months and I’m out of here, never to come back if life’s kind to me.” Your voice was quiet as you didn’t look at Hongjoong, smoke wafting through your lips as you finished the joint. Hongjoong hummed, a low and warm sound, as he reached for the stud to take it from you. Your fingers brushed together once again, and you looked at Hongjoong when he held your wrist.

“You’re stronger than you think, you’ll make it big out there, Y/N, have more faith in yourself.” You found yourself smiling now, head a little hazy as you nodded, finding it easier to believe whatever Hongjoong told you.

“You’re the artist between the two of us, you’re the one supposed to make it big.” Hongjoong chuckled and stood, headed for the kitchen.

“Can’t we both make it big?” He raised an eyebrow as he threw the stud away, turning around to face you. You hummed, not entirely agreeing with him, but you decided to nod. Then, Hongjoong turned towards where his bed was and grinned, “You’re here to see some art, no?”

“Right, I almost forgot about that.” Hongjoong chuckled, then beckoned you over. You grabbed the cat in your lap and pressed a kiss against its small head, placing it on the bean bag in your spot. Your feet felt light as you headed towards Hongjoong, who had sauntered over to the desk pressed up against the wall underneath the open windows. He turned the small lamp on, and suddenly you were looking at small canvases filled with colour and abstract shapes. Somehow they looked like an organised mess, even in the overflowing swirl of colours, you managed to find a pattern that seemed to never end like a loop. You turned your head to look at Hongjoong, and suddenly you realised his art was a perfect reflection of who he was.

“I can tell you made these.” Perhaps phrasing it like that was offensive, but Hongjoong only looked curious. He hummed, raising an eyebrow.

“How come?” His voice was quiet, curious.

“I can see you in these.” You pointed at the canvas with orange and yellow as the more prominent colours, circling a deep blue that looked almost black, “The blue is you at your core, dark and perhaps scared of the world. And then all that orange and yellow? I think that’s how you see the world, how you wish it treated you, hoping it would lighten all that darkness that looms over you all the time. And this one? I wonder if it was a coincidence you hid so many infinity symbols in the background, this burgundy is gorgeous, by the way. I think everyone is afraid of disappearing without leaving a trace of themselves in this fucked up world, and I actually…I admire you for being so honest and straightforward, very few people are like you.”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows were furrowed the longer you spoke, but he remained silent as you smiled, looking down at the white canvas, unfinished but with light blue swirls creating the illusion of a clear sky, “I wonder what this will turn into. So far, it reminds me of serenity, of the calm before a storm. Life’s like that too, don’t you think? It’s quiet and gentle, and then it turns into a scary thing that can destroy us if we let it.”

Hongjoong just gulped, his eyes clouded but his heart racing. He was positive no one had been able to interpret his art for what it was before, and he wondered how much of him you could see through his eyes if you could read so well what the trail of his brush had left on a blank canvas. It made him feel seen like never before, not even his biggest supporter, Wooyoung, could see beyond Hongjoong’s intentions when he sat down to paint, to tell the world his pain and rage, yearning for someone to just finally see him.

“You’re…” Hongjoong gulped, his throat feeling dry as you smiled at him, curious if you’d been right, “You are a person I should cherish more from now on.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise, your heart skipping a beat once again. What did he mean by saying that? You wanted to ask, but Hongjoong stepped closer, his tone breathy as he spoke up again, “‘Whoever wants to know something about me – as an artist which alone is significant – they should look attentively at my pictures and there seek to recognize what I am and what I want’…that’s what Gustav Klimt once said. And so far, you are the only person who’s managed to do that.”

Your mouth gaped open, and you both heard Woo stretch and meow loudly, his soft footsteps loud as he walked towards Hongjoong’s bed, jumping up and finding a new spot to sleep. You didn’t know what to say back to that, but you felt your heart race as your cheeks flushed, shy all of a sudden. Hongjoong was looking at you with a softness no man has looked at you with, it was a bit hard to take it all in without freaking yourself out that this wasn’t real, that it was just the weed, or that maybe Hongjoong wasn’t as genuine as his expression showed.

“Y/N,” You didn’t flinch when his hand wrapped around your wrist, his tone still soft, “I think you already know that I find you pretty, and I…I might have gone to that dingy pub for so long just to see you, actually.”

Those words had your heart racing even wilder as you looked up, finding Hongjoong’s face closer to yours as his eyes now bore into yours, “I should’ve been more specific when I asked you to have coffee with me. I meant to ask you out on a date, but I panicked because I knew I had slightly upset you, but…”

He gulped nervously and you felt so curious to hear what more he had to say, perhaps a smile would encourage him, so that’s what you did, offered him a small friendly smile. He released a breath and cleared his throat, his hand slipping from your wrist to your hand, “Can I kiss you?”

If this was anyone else but Hongjoong, your answer would have been an instant no. But the longer you looked into his eyes, the more excited and giddy you felt, so you just nodded your head and licked your lips, trying to ignore the deep flush of your cheeks. Hongjoong chuckled, suddenly looking shy, but he started leaning in, his eyes fluttering closed just as your lips met. It was careful, it was sweet and it made your heart roar as you stepped just a bit closer, your noses brushing together as your lips moved slowly and carefully, mostly just testing out the waters. Hongjoong’s lips were soft and sweet, and surprisingly didn’t taste like weed but like peaches. You wondered if he used any sort of lip balm to have them taste like that. His hand settled on your cheek and he gently caressed your cheekbone with his thumb, making your heart roar once again. It’s been long since someone had treated you with such gentleness, and you told yourself to remain level-headed, but it would be just so easy to fall in love with Hongjoong. You couldn’t help but smile as you two pulled apart, Hongjoong tried to hide his own grin as he sucked his lips together, but his eyes gave him away. You chuckled and he giggled, and suddenly you felt the urge to pull him into a hug.

“So,” He cleared his throat as he let his arms rest around your torso loosely, “If you don’t like coffee, what do you like?”

“Delicious cakes.” You didn’t hesitate to answer and Hongjoong chuckled, patting your head.

“Well then, would you like to go on a delicious cake-hunting date with me?” You closed your eyes to contain your excitement, but the weed had not only eased your muscles but your always worrying mind as well.

“Yes!” You didn’t mean to squeal, but it was hard not to when Hongjoong startled giggling sweetly once again, nodding his head.

“Good, I’ll make sure we find the best spots in the city then.”

And perhaps not just in the city, but also in foreign countries while you attended Hongjoong’s art expositions, an expensive bottle of wine waiting for the two of you back at the hotel.

੭ Masterlist ੭

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❀ complete the forms if you're interested! ^^

[gilverrwrites]

Now hear me out, #10 on the room prompt with Bruce. I don't know just how to describe it, but something about him having to pay whomever checks the security cameras to stay silent after fucking our brains out is so scumptious. Or maybe not even fucking and just rubbing himself on our pussy to get himself off and leave us needy. Like you have no idea how badly I need this man to cum in my panties while we're at work and tell me to "deal with it."

Bruce Wayne/F!Reader, 1.4K words AN: I'm bringing back PA/Secretary reader cause they deserve to keep fucking after the whole pollen fiasco, and we’re going heavy on the Brucie charm for this one. Is this like the third thing in a row I've written that includes our dear old reader being denied? Yes. Am I upset about it? Hell no! Warnings: Semi-public | denial | power imbalance

It doesn’t matter how many times your boss charms himself out of the consequences of being chronically late for every important meeting or event, it always rubs you the wrong way. Fortunately for him though, he’d lucked out, or perhaps planned on it, by wearing those trousers. They may seem like any other of his no doubt massive collection of black fitted trousers, but these ones in particular hug his sturdy thighs in all the right places.

You’re calming down by enjoying the view when the private elevator comes to a bumpy, unexpected stop. You lurch forward, letting out an embarrassing squeal as the lights go out until a pair of steady and familiar hands catch you. He has you comfortingly pressed into his chest when the emergency lights switch on, and he keeps you there, with a firm, soothing grip as he pulls out his phone. As his assistant, it certainly should be your job to be making calls at this point, assuring his investors that you’ll be there when the elevator is back in service and amending his future appointments to make up for lost time but Bruce is already on the line with the 20th floor receptionist and security personnel before you have the chance to beat him to it.

“I could have done all that for you.” You scold when he hangs up.

He shrugs, nonchalantly, chuckling as his hand starts to smooth its way further down your back, settling on your hip, just a half-inch shy of your ass. “Now you don’t have to.”

“Are we going to be stuck in here for long?” As you ask, you lean back to look at him, straightening his tie after your impromptu cuddle had brushed it askew. His baby blues wander upward as he considers his next words and actions until he looks back at you with a playful smile.

“Long enough that we might need to find a way to pass the time.” It’s obvious what he has in mind as his sneaky fingers slowly, but decisively start to gather up your skirt, exposing a little more of your thighs with each curl of his fingers.

Obvious, but not acceptable. “Mr Wayne, the cameras!”

His wrist is too thick for you to wrap your whole hand around but that doesn’t stop you grabbing it. Your objection doesn’t stop him, and when you turn your head to gesture at the aforementioned cameras, he only uses it as an opening to lay his lips on the side of your neck. He rubs his nose against the soft spot below your ear, breathing in your perfume before he starts to press tender and intoxicating kisses to your skin. It's maddening, and you want to melt into them but neither of you want news leaking about Bruce Wayne and his assistant making it to print.

“Sir! I really don’t think we should be doing this in here.” When you object a second time he gives pause, pulling back just enough that you can still feel the warmth of his breath.

“Relax.” His bass-like voice whispers in your ear before he starts to kiss along your jaw until you’re face to face. “Nobody is monitoring the surveillance room right now, and it won’t cost much to have the recording scrubbed. Nobody will know.”

He’s already won his case, he won the moment he started, and he knows to; he’s already wearing his victory look, that lopsided smile, hungry eyes framed by dark and pronounced brows that are begging you to challenge him. But you don’t challenge him, you succumb under his gaze, leaning up to put your arms around his shoulders a kiss him. Now that he has your official permission, Bruce wastes no time hitching up the last of your skirt, trying and failing to keep his amusement under wraps as you gasp and yelp when lifts you by the backs of your thighs, pressing you to the cold metal wall with your legs spread around his hips until you’re rested upon the railing.

“Keep quiet.” He warns with mocking sincerity, eyes fixed on your flushing face as he unbuckles those pants and reaches beneath his boxers. “Unless you want everyone on the 12th floor to get an earful of those dirty noises you make for me.”

“Easy for you to say. You’ve never had to take something that big before I’d bet.” You’re only half joking, and you know your words have stroked his ego just right by the way he shuts his eyes for a moment, suppressing his blush before he pulls out his half-hard cock. His fingers glide over it ease, bringing it to full attention without breaking his unflinching stare.

“You don’t have to take anything.” The fingers of his other hand hook into your panties, and your whole core clenches around nothing as it’s exposed to the air. He’s excruciatingly gentle he runs his finger along your slit, and you fidget on your precarious perch, desperate for more pressure as he keeps ghosting over your folds.

“I just wanna feel you.” He practically purrs, resting his forehead on yours as he lines up his crown at your entrance. “How wet you are for me.”  

True to his word he doesn’t even try to push into your waiting pussy. Instead, driving his length between your lips, sucking in a breath and bucking up until his tip drags over your clit and down again, one hand cupping the base of his cock to stimulate any parts of him that doesn’t reach between your warm lips.

“Hah.” His jaw grows momentarily slick, lids heavy as he revells in the feel of your wet and puffy folds. “You’re a very accommodating PA, you know. Always ready for me.” His voice breaks as he tries to jest. “Is this okay?”

Though he would have gotten the same response from you where he not stroking your clit with every thrust, the fact that he is certainly motivates your dreamy reply. “Y-yes. Yes Mr Wayne, keep going.”

“Good.” His breath is already shaken and heavy. “Goooood.”

He’s careful as he tucks your panties back into place, covering his cock with it before he connects his lips to yours for a heated, frenzied kiss. A messy kiss, which you deepen every time he grazes your clit just right to make your toes curl in your pumps and your grip on his suit jacket tighten.

A kiss that’s only broken periodically, when Bruce needs a second to bury his face into the crook of your neck to muffle his ragged, whimpers.

Again when you pushed back against him too hard, nearly falling from your improvised plinth.

And once more when the elevator begins to hum back to life, nearly blinding you both with the normal lighting, and causing you both to jerk as it starts to move once more.

“Shit!” You tap at his shoulders, urging him to stop, growing more angsty with each floor that flies by, ignoring how your pussy aches to finish.

“Just. One. More. Second.” Bruce growls between pants, too close to stop, unwilling to stop. Still pumping his length between your folds, each roll of his hips growing harder and further apart. “Almost- fff.”

His voice breaks completely, hard muscles softening in relief as he as he releases himself. The heady feel of his hot cum spilling against your achy pussy makes your body long for more even though your brain says no. Unconsciously you ride against him, smearing his load all over. The sight of it seeping into and staining your underwear making you lightheaded.

Despite your warnings, Bruce is the one to move first, letting you down from the wall and pulling your skirt back down before turning his back to the door just in time for the telltale DING sounds, alerting you both that you’ve reached your stop. With record speed; he tucks himself back in, neat and tidy just in time for the doors to open where Sam the receptionist is waiting to inform you that the investors are still waiting in the boardroom but are getting tetchy.

“I’ll meet you in there.” You tell him, already veering toward the bathrooms.

“No, I need you there.” His voice is terse, but his eyes are knowing.

With as much subtly as possible you gesture to your lower body, where his cum is still warm and seeping into the crevices of your pussy. Your panties, unable to contain it all; are leaking, and with every drop that starts to gradually trickle down your leg, you can feel yourself growing simultaneously more needy and paranoid.

“You’re just gonna have to deal with it.” He’s already got his charming, Brucie Wayne can-do-no-wrong face on as he places an arm around you, just high enough on your back as to not cause suspicion as he guides you toward the meeting room. “I need my best girl.”

[operationslipperypuppet]

New to your blog and I'm curious and think this will probably be a good ask for you to cook on for a while: Sell me on Naddpod?

well first of all welcome! as much as i walk like a d20 blog and talk like a d20 blog i am in fact a naddpod blog a lot of the time so. look out. (everyone)

this is gonna get long.

now, to the task at hand.

naddpod.

imagine if you will that four improvisers/comedians who are very good friends combine their powers to tell stories that they want to completely sit in while also having the ultimate goal of making each other laugh.

naddpod is first and foremost a comedy podcast, there’s a reason dragon pussy comes up four and a half minutes in, there’s a reason “cumpatriots” being said in today’s episode left me completely unfazed. they want it to be silly. they enjoy it being silly.

but god do they also just simply care.

they care about their characters, they care about each other’s characters. they create a world together where when the dm (murph, most often) gives them a shocking twist, you can hear them waiting with bated breath, the same as you, for what will come next.

there are also so many deeply devastating emotional moments. “you ruined my night, brian.” is said in the show and oft repeated by the fans for a goddamn reason. you feel for the characters when bad things happen. you can’t wait to see them resolved. and they don’t feel cheap when they happen. you’re having a great time even as they have terrible times.

the worlds feel lived in. you also feel like you can see the worlds be created as you listen. it’s just so fun. there are several episodes where if i listen to them during a shit day i feel so much better.

sometimes, it’s deeply stupid. and it’s very fun. god are some bits insane. (shoutout to dip spit). but it’s just a good time.

they’re also incredible writers. the stories the dms are trying to tell come from this pure place of loving what they’re doing and being very good at it.

murph’s encounters are also some of the best in the game. even when they’re similar they don’t feel tired. he creates pictures you can see so vividly without having any visual aids. he keeps the stakes high even though he clearly wants his players to win. and they’re so endlessly creative. (c3 def has some of the best encounters due to his experience at that point but don’t discount some of the mighty c1 and c2 ones either)

in conclusion, listen to naddpod. please. you’ll have a great time. if you don’t enjoy the dragon pussy of it all, you might not love it, but if you enjoy it or can power through it, you’ll have fun.

and now. a quick rundown of like the general conceit of each (completed) campaign off the top of my head. in case you’re curious about where to start. (you can start at the beginning of any of these, in any order) and fuck it. i’m including a spotify link to every ep 1. i’m also def gonna do a bad job so. grain of salt etc etc.

bahumia (campaign 1): three legendary heroes saved the world three years ago, cumulating in their killing the devil. but then they vanished. and things have gone bad. so our adventurers attempt to figure out what happened. and how they can fix it. (100 episodes, dm’d by murph) (x)

trinyvale: sci-fi. three roommates work for a corporation on mini retrieval missions that eventually all come together to point toward one large mystery: what happened to the gods and how does it impact the world? (22 episodes, plus a few one-shots or mini arcs, dm’d by caldwell) (x)

the mavrus chronicles: five lads who are each other’s boys go on a beach vacation and one gets lost. they have to find out what happened, and find their friend, even if it means trekking across the water into the mysterious fog (7 episodes, dm’d by emily, ft. zac oyama’s guest pc from bahumia) [also has a sequel campaign, blazing babe, where they go to a burning man-esque festival and try to figure out who’s trying to ruin it. you can’t listen to that on its own. it has 4 episodes](x)

eldermourne (campaign 2): a dark fairy tale setting where those devoted to the gods continue to hold their alleged promises over people’s heads without quite explaining what it really means. and a secret order has left behind our heroes, who have no choice but to try to track them and what they’re working toward down. (41 episodes, dm’d by murph) (x) (also has a session 0)

ba2mia (campaign 3): we return to the world of campaign one, 200 years later. things have changed in the world a lot in the time in between, and it’s a much more cyber-punky place now. our heroes work for a megacorp attempting to dig itself into every major city in the world. they do their best to outrun that. and its ripples. (72 episodes, dm’d by murph) (x) (session 0ish)

twilight sanctorum: the family business is as detectives. and the business is slow. in a noir setting, a father/grandfather, son/father, and grandson/son work together to solve one single mystery: who is threatening the featured performer at the town’s most famous theater. (4 episodes. dm’d by emily) (x)

the episodes i shared will give a better early description than i did, certainly. bc they thought about them more.

anyway. long answer over. hope this helps. maybe. idk it ran away from me a little bit.

thanks for the ask!!

[lightlycareless]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP88TBRUw/

I can see this being Naoya with his kids. He seems like the kind of dad that’s not gonna dumb it down/babyify it to explain it to you(unless he’s trying to be an asshole) even his own child

OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG I love anything that further develops Naoya as a father thank you so much for sharing this 😭😭😭😭💖💖💖

He doesn't know how to get along the same way other people do (like the baby voice and such) but that doesn't mean he's not trying or that he doesn't care; 🥹 that's just his type of parenting/love. That's all.

Now, onto the good stuff

warnings: none. fluff. you have a baby with naoya and are very happy about it!!!! also creative liberties.

Happy reading!!

This is so darn adorable, for sure Naoya is the type of dad that loves explaining things to his kids. Why? Because it always gets him these reactions:

“Papa, you’re so smart!”

“You’re the best!”

“I love my papa because he knows everything!”

And that just does something to his ego, you know?

Naoya loves to show off, however, what he loves the most is when his kids brag about him to other kids at school, putting his name up high and let everyone know that there is no one better than him. No matter how much they try to convince Naomi out of it, that is the irrefutable truth.  

Wouldn’t stop them from trying, though.

“The other day my dad got me a new toy, it’s the newest, biggest one you can find at the store!” One dared make Naomi feel less about her things, plant the idea that she wasn’t good enough to hang out with him. Not as rich as the rest of the kids there—what you feared would happen when enrolling her in a highly prestigious private school.

But fortunately, she had parents that always reassured her otherwise, the complete opposite: Naomi was ultimately too good to be with them (this was Naoya’s words, not yours. You’re not that… conceited) thus, she was well prepared to respond.

“I already have that one.” She responds nonchalantly, without even glancing up from her coloring book. “But I don’t like it that much because it’s ugly.”

“Wh—what?! But it just came out…”

And Naomi wasn’t lying for the sake of it either, Naoya genuinely had connections to just about anything for the sole purpose of making his family happy. Thus, getting an unreleased toy from an upcoming collection was simply a matter of asking for it.

What exceeded the limit, however, was her willingness to disclose Naoya’s type of work when her obnoxious classmate, Daiki, began to step on her toes, her firm attempt to get him to quiet up and leave her alone once and for all.

“Well, your dad isn’t as cool as mine, then! My dad is an engineer that builds airplanes, your dad can’t do that, can he?? He’s probably super lame!”

“No, he’s not!” Naomi cries. “My papa is cooler than anyone and I love him very much!”

“Yeah, right. He’s probably some kind of salary man who can barely afford to buy stuff! You’ll probably be taken out of school next month!!” He jeers, and Naomi, red-faced and having enough of his audacity, finally snaps.

“My papa is a sorcerer that defeats curses! Things you can’t see because you’re not talented as me!”

Even if the teacher didn’t think much of this altercation and decided to focus on the fact the two argued rather than what was disclosed, you and Naoya still stepped in. What escaped Naomi’s lips is not something that should be freely revealed if you wished her to conserve the content life she had right now… or avoid the intervention of something graver.

“You can’t do that, mochi. We’ve told you how important it is to keep papa’s job a secret.” You begin on the ride back home, looking back to where she was seated while Naoya drove. “Because only then will he be able to do it properly.”

“Why me telling them won’t let papa do his job?” Naomi curiously asks. She’s never been one to stray away from her parent’s orders, surprisingly obedient at that… still, she is a child and is bound to grow interested one way or the other.

You look at Naoya.

“If I get compromised, I won’t be able to continue.” He answers.

“Compro—compromised?” Naomi repeats. “What is that?”

“When you’re vulnerable; like when I tickle your tummy and you’re unable to do anything else—that’s being compromised.” He explains.

“No, papa, I’m being tickled!” she giggles, you chuckle.

“Well, that’s another way to see things.” Naoya smirks. “Still, you mustn’t tell anyone, or I could lose my job and you wouldn’t want papa to be sad, would you?”

“…But it’s the truth, why can’t I tell them?”

You press your lips together, believing to have bumped into a wall when it came to Naomi’s understanding, perhaps she was too young to know the intricacies of the community she was bound to join in due time.

However, where you hesitated, Naoya was never one to simplify things. He wouldn’t be extravagantly crude with his adored baby, but he’ll still say whatever’s necessary to get the point across.

“Because civilians don’t see the world as we do; they’re easy to scare, too ignorant for their own good. If they see or hear anything they don’t understand they’ll just make a fuzz out of it and make our job even harder by creating curses” He continues. “You remember how curses are made, right?”

“Yes, papa. By feeding off from emotions!” she says. “Does that mean Daiki is ignorant?”

“Don’t use that word at school, dumpling.” You quickly interject. “It’s rude.”

“Why not? Papa uses it all the time…”

“Because some might get offended. Doesn’t lessen the truth, but that’s just how the world is.” Naoya shrugs. “Besides, you’re too young and to use it. Just ignore them whenever they say something you don’t like and you’ll be fine.”

You twist your lips; you never liked Naoya’s bold approach when it came to these matters, for he’d always end up pushing her dangerously close to doing something you knew would get her in trouble before backing up.

And it certainly didn’t help that Naomi was in the age where her innocent mind knew no decorum, which alongside Naoya’s inherited stubbornness, just made things harder for you when clearing up misunderstandings.

But you couldn’t be too disappointed in his teaching, after all, it eventually showed her to be secure, confident, and most of all, an objective young woman no one would be able to bring down; an expectation you always wanted for her—for her well-being, in this awful, rough world.

“But I can still call him an idiot, right??” Naomi concludes, you turn pale.

“Naoya!”

“No, sweetie, let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves.” Naoya responds with a chuckle. “As long as you’re remain adorable, perfect daughter, that is more than enough.”

Ok so maybe I diverted a bit from the initial prompt but he ends up explaining things in the end so it kind of went with it??? hahaha idk it's just something that came to me when reading this ask 🙈🙈 I still hope you enjoyed it!!

I don't really have anything else to say except that thank you for sending in this ask :> for feeding my domestic needs hehe

Take care and hope to see you soon!!

[luxis-journal]

Now, now babyboo, yk damn well, imma reply. Enjoy love. And whoever wants to read this.🤔

When most people think of the term ‘good things' come to those who wait’; they never meant it in this form.

Sundays have now become the days in which the neighborhoods are lit up by the bustling farmers; all lined up in rows as they proudly showcase their crops and cattle’s of harvest to the onlookers The man, whose teeth are replaced by gold, shows his greed by descaling the quality of his fruits all the while unchanging many of his customers. The neighbors tend to avoid the vendor, seeing as they were swindled far too much for their hands to even touch the fruits. But, as luck would have it someone’s already fallen prey to them once more.

“You’re clearly selling these fruits for far more than their worth.” Stated the customer calmly, his voice leaving no room for an argument.

“Why you- I’ll have you know that these products are the freshest out of all the vendors sat here today!”

“I’ll believe that when a worm’s head isn’t sticking out half of your apples”

At that, the vendor lunged himself towards the man, hell-bent on serving justice to his ‘business’. Only to be stopped by a harsh grip

“I’d suggest you refrain from public violence. The least I could do is escort your stall out for once.” she stated, resolution dear in her words as her grip on the merchants never once swayed over.

The vendor tsked, pulling his hand away silenced once more.

“I didn’t know you were still on patrol duty.” said Zayne, a bit of surprise leaping out from his words.

She turned to look towards him, a hint of a smile gracing her lips.

“Well unfortunately, this job doesn’t really let me have the day off.”

“Shame really, it’d make my job much easier if it did.”

To that, she scoffed, lightly nudging him along. They walked towards another stall, hoping to find another, more fruitful vendor.

“What are you doing all the way here, Zayne? The last time I checked, it took about half an hour to get here from the clinic-.” She coughed, stopping herself from calling him out as workaholic once more. “home, a long way from your place.”

A small chuckle rung out of his mouth, releasing some of the tension.

“I do have a place, unlike what someone might believe.”

“And no, it’s not the clinic.”

“uh-huh, sure, buddy.”

They made their way in front of the new fruit vendor, eyeing the collection only to be stopped.

“Hm~, didn’t expect to see you here, sweetie.” The vendor stated, his voice too familiar for her not to look up in shock.

“Haha, Sylus. Long time no see.” Her voice pitched slightly at his appearance, trying desperately to stifle her laugh.

There he was, standing behind a produce stall in the most uncharacteristic clothing she had ever seen. His hair tied up with a pink hibiscus clip, a pink hello kitty mask scrunched and resting on his sharp jaw, and the best of all, the princess peach on his soft pink apron boarded with ruffles and frills.

“Do you know him?” Zayne asked, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion and apprehension at the… colorful and interesting display of choices blinding him.

“U-uh yeah, he’s my frien-.” She stammers, only to be stopped by Sylus.

“Boyfriend, lover, beloved, you name it, she calls me just that.”

“Excuse me?” Zayne intercepts, his face a bit red from Sylus’s bold claims.

“You heard me pretty boy.” Sylus smirks, looking Zayne dead in the eyes.

The two men scrutinize one another for the tip of their hair to their toes. Zayne keeps his eyebrows raised as his arms cross across his chest, seemingly baffled at how this heathen could capture her attention. Sylus’s gaze wasn’t too far off the mark either, sporting a sneer and nose scrunched in distaste at how… responsible this man seemed.

The tension piles up far too fast for her liking, having her think of a plan to escape.

“Well this had been fun, but I gotta dash. Bye now!”

Replying fast, she turns around and runs out of there at break neck speed.

“Now hold on!”

“Don’t run away now!~”

That's the best you're getting out of me, women. Hope you enjoyed it! 😘

Nika's Open Mic Night!

𝕎𝕖𝕝𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕪 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕟 𝕔𝕠𝕝𝕝𝕒𝕓/𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 𝕣𝕠𝕓𝕚𝕟

Calling all the LADS writers of Tumblr

Please read → Everyone and anyone is free to join. Write something for the prompt and tag someone who you'd like to see participate. You can do it in a reblog to this post or make your own post. Your character can be a self-insert, your MC, or an OC If you make your own post please add me in your taglist or tag it with #nikasopenmicnight I love reading you guys work. I'm going to be making an ongoing list with links to all the stories of everyone who chooses to join. There is no deadline have fun !

Okay I'll shut up now here's the prompt

the prompt: running into your main lads man (boyfriend) while you're out with your second favorite lads man (as a friend) and how they would react. [Credit: Anon]

I'll go first....Who's next?

This was supposed to be a quick trip, in and out, get what I need and leave. I should’ve gone to a different store because I knew better than to think I'd make a ‘quick trip’ to target. Dumbass. Nothing was ever a quick trip when me and Raf hung out. So here I am buying all new decor for my library at home. Rafayel stood by giving his opinion even when I didn't ask for it “How many blankets does one girl need?”

“There’s no such thing as too many blankets” I giggled as I squat down to chose a fluffy red blanket. I knew Sylus would like this no matter how much he likes to act like he doesn't care for them I see how he throws one over his lap when it’s within reach. “Thinking of me?” I jump at the sudden sound of his voice looking up to see his tall frame looming over me. It wasn’t uncommon for him to pop-up on me considering he has my location. I couldn’t help the smile that split my face in two as I looked up at him. I stood up and shoved the blanket in this direction. “What do you think?” His hand gently ran up and down the fabric, but his intense stare was fixated over my shoulder “It’s nice”

I turned to see Raf giving Sylus a just as intense stare, but instead of a frown like Sylus he had a smile on his face. His smile didn’t reach his eyes and I could practically feel the lightning cracking between them. Am I in the middle of some kind of pissing contest? Men. “Sylus stop being rude he's my friend” I poked him in his side which made him jolt, but he finally looked at me. His gaze softened slightly as our eyes locked. “Princess i’m not doing anything” He poked me in my forehead and I swatted his hand away; he knows I hate when he does that. “Don’t play dumb” I scowled at him and all he did was give me that sexy ass smirk. Sometimes I wish he was ugly …. no I don’t. Sylus put his gaze back on Rafayel and pulled me impossibly close to him by my waist. “Apologies if I'm interrupting, but we have an appointment with a tailor that we can’t miss”

Why is he lying? This is the first i’m hearing of said appointment. I struggled in his hold trying to pry his fingers from my waist, but he gave me a few small squeezes making me snort with laughter.

Raf didn’t even try to argue he threw his hands up in surrender “No worries I have paintings to finish” he grabbed his items that he tossed in the cart, gave my nose a pinch along with a quick “I’ll talk to you later” and sauntered off. The second Rafayel was out of sight I managed to wiggle my way out of Sylus' iron grip “What appointment are you talking about?”

“There isn’t one I just didn’t like the way he looks at you” He said in a matter-of-fact tone as if I was supposed to know that. “How exactly does he look at me?”

“The same way I look at you” I narrowed my eyes at him inquisitively; he returned the same look and I knew he was mocking me. “So you don’t trust me” It was more of a statement rather than a question.

“And here I thought your deductive reasoning skills were improving” he shifted his weight as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I trust you sweetie I don’t trust him he wants to be more than a friend” something was off although he seemed annoyed I could tell that it wasn’t me he was upset with. All of his tells were on full display by the way he avoided eye contact with and how his fingers absentmindedly tapped on his bicep. “Are you jealous?” I teased poking his chest repeatedly. He glowered at me as I tried and failed to stop the evil grin that spread across my face. “You’re enjoying this a little too much for my liking”

“You’re so cute when you're jealous” I reached up to pinch his cheek but as always he grabbed my wrist before I could even get close. “Enough” he’s so sick of my shit, but it’s not like he’s going anywhere. "Don't worry no one can steal me from you"

tagging w/ no pressure ;

@who-mentioned-rhys-larsen @irandial @ollieneedsamilkshake @phoenixiaxia @luxis-journal

@deepspacenova @world-of-hearts @comatosebunny09 @leighsartworks216 @awesomephilosophus

@ersharyzst

[redpill-tfs]

I need some help. My family is sending me to my ultra-conservative redneck uncle's ranch for the summer and I'm already dreading having to listen to them spew the nonsense they hear on the news.

Do you have anything that could help make this summer a bit more tolerable?

I'd imagine that would be hard, going to spend time with someone you don't see eye to eye with, having to do hard labor in the sun when you're more of a computer guy. Forced to go to church when that's not really your thing. Hearing him talk about the corrupt politicians in Washington and how Trump is going to drain the swamp. I know exactly what will help you feel better about this summer. I put a little something in your packed lunch. Don't worry, I made sure it's vegan. I'd take it now so it can take effect by the time you get to your uncle's place.

It'll take you a little bit to get there in your new Honda, wanting to keep the car in good condition as long as you can. Your single bag in in the backseat. The highway is simple enough and uneventful, but your uncle lives about a mile from a small town, farmland and backroads the only way there. With no real choice in the matter, you leave your parent's driveway.

You turn on your Spotify playlist, getting a pop song from your favorite gay artist. You sing along, your dyed hair swaying as you move your body, thinking about how much of an inspiration they are to you. The highway is strangely quiet for this time of day, but you don't mind the lack of traffic.

The song ends as a country song starts playing next. Must be one of the songs Spotify is recommending you today.You've never really been a fan of country music, finding it all seems to be about girls, trucks and beer, but you can tolerate it for one song. It's surprisingly catchy. Not your usual style of music, but it's not bad.

The lyrics are all about a guy in his worn out pick up truck, his worn out shirt and boots showing him to be a man's man. His calloused hands prove he's a hard worker. He sounds nothing like you, but you can almost relate to him in a strange way. After all, you're wearing your old boots for the drive. And you put on a worn out shirt and jeans too, just like your uncle always wears.

You don't remembering putting the outfit on, or even owning it in the first place, but before you can dwell on it too long the next song starts. It's another country song, this time about growing up in a small town and being a conservative man. It's got a nice beat to it as you tap your fingers against the steering wheel. You're nothing like the guy in the song, but the more you think about it, the more you remember visiting your uncle every summer to stay with him. He taught you the importance of conservative values, How those city slickers like your folks didn't know the meaning of hard work. You discovered your faith in God and he bought you your first Bible before you went back home. The godless liberals just want free handouts and to take your money for themselves.

You scoff at the sissies as yet another song plays. You recognize this song. It's Austin by Dasha. You sure can't relate to this song at all! Your boots are in good shape and your truck never would never break down on you. Sure it might need a new paint job from years of use but it still works as well as the day you got it. A birthday gift from your uncle. You're so glad he agreed to let you stay with him and gave you a job at his gun shop in town.

As you pulled into your uncle's driveway and hopped out of your truck, you knew this was going to be a good summer. And fall, winter, and spring.

[myfanfictiongarden]

Again, it is so interesting to re-watch s1 of RoP with the perspective of the events of s2. Especially if you look at all the moments with Halbrand, now fully aware that not only is he Sauron, but also how he came to the point we first meet him in the show. One could wonder how much an active hand he already had in s1, but we do know that he can NOT influence all the events to his liking.

“The road goes ever winding. Not even I can see all its paths.” s2 ep8

Still, let’s look at the scenes when we first meet him on the raft.

“Looks can be deceiving.”

Literary the first thing he says to Galadriel (and us) is a warning. Verbally it is mostly aimed at Galadriel joining the human survivors on the tiny raft, with the others debating if she is harmless or not, yet after his true nature is revealed this looks more like he is toying with his companions, inwardly laughing at a joke only he would get. At the same time it serves as a warning as well, for the humans on the raft were sooner willing to to sacrifice an “nobel” Elf, someone looking different from them, ignorant to the wolf in sheep’s clothing among them.

“You needn't keep your distance.”

“I am simply wondering what manner of man would so readily abandon his companions to death.”

“The sort that knows how to survive. Why be part of the larger target?”

Isn’t this exactly the philosophy he always lived for? As Morgoth´s lieutenant ready to sacrifice countless lives, but slipping away and hiding when defeated? A opportunist, who will let an old man die on a sinking ship, for a new window opened up for himself?

“You are a target still. I doubt we shall find safety until we make landfall.”

“I suspect finding safety won't be that easy. Leastways not for you. Separated from your ship. Really? You're a deserter, aren't you?”

I’m wondering, did he know who she is in this moment? He knew her brother Finrod. Would he have noticed a family resemblance and connected the dots? If yes, he must have known quite a lot about her from hearing others mention of her, and in that case, would have really enjoyed putting up this performance.

“Do I have the look of a deserter?”

“You don't have the look of someone to whom things happen by accident. Which means you were running. Whether toward or from something, I haven't yet decided.”

Even if he by now knew who she was, the fact that he was all alone adrift on the Sundering Seas must have made him rather curious. He had been out of the picture for so long, and walking among Men did not get too much info of what had been going on. Why was Galadriel of the Noldor alone at sea?

“Duty demanded I return to Middle-earth. And that is all you need to know.”

Galadriel doing what she always used to do in her youth, avoid the facts. She did it in the face of Melian, why not to a mere mortal?

“Important Elf business, no doubt.”

“What have Elves ever done to you? Do you blame us for your being stranded here?”

“The way I see it, it wasn't Elves that chased me from my homeland. It was Orcs.”

Once again, cleverly not giving away all the intelligence, but we later truly learn that it was Orcs who brought upon him this small downfall. 

“Your home. Where was it?”

“What's it matter? It's ashes now.”

True, Forodwaith is all but destroyed.

“I know something of the pain you carry. I grieve for you. For those you lost. Around your neck. Was that the mark of your people's king?”

“My people have no king.”

“But if they did, where might that kingdom be found?”

“To what end?”

“What if I told you we might be able to reclaim it?”

Here I’m gonna jump for a moment to look at Galadriel’s mental state, for we can clearly see that she is too focused (on the verge of obsession) of jumping only back into battle, that she barely spares a moment to acknowledge this man’s apparent losses, already picturing the success of she might have with re-instaling a lost king of Men while simultaneously defeating Sauron. That would surely put her up into good graces again with the other Elves. Right? (Now I’m realising that her brother Finrod is among other things remembered for helping the mortal Beren on an impossible quest, even facing off against Sauron. Does she subconsciously seek the same noble path as he? Or is she too blind by grief and rage to look for any other motivation that her personal)

“I’m afraid you're short an army.”

“Leave the army to me. Why're you dodging the question?”

“Why're you stranded at sea?”

“Because rather than rest in glory, I chose to seek out the very enemy responsible for your suffering.”

By now, even Sauron is calling her bs, while we also see the sort of reasoning Galadriel wishes to become her narrative.

“Look, Elf. You didn't cause my suffering and you can't fix it. No matter how strong your will. Or your pride. So let it lie.”

There- there is so much to unpack here. First of all, yes, she didn’t cause his suffering, HE did it HIMSELF, no mater what he might tell otherwise. Second, he calls out her pride, a weakness she will manage to overcome by the end of s2, but he never will.

“I have pursued this foe since before the first sunrise bloodied the sky. It would take longer than your lifetime even to speak the names of those they have taken from me. So letting it lie is not an option.”

This will never not be funny to me once we learned to whom she was actually speaking- he is literary an eternity older than her. Still, it also shows how she used to flex her “superiority” in the face of other beings, another thing Elves might be partial to do in their long existence, and it is such a contrast to how she will later welcome the Fellowship.

“At last, a little honesty. If you want to murder Orcs and settle a score, that's your affair. Don't dress it up as heroism.”

Foreshadowing at its finest. But also some hypocrisy from his side, because he always dresses up his actions as the most noble intentions. Then again, he is currently in his repentance era, so he does speak with some self critique.

“Are you going to tell me where the enemy is or not?”

“The Southlands.”

Because Sauron has noticed that Adar and the Orcs moved there.

“I need to know how many the enemy were, under whose banner they marched, and then you are going to take me to their last-known location.”

“I’ve got my own plans, Elf.”

Yes, he has.

[baby-blue-skyy]

Too Sweet // R. Grimes (TWD) Part 2

Second part of: Too Sweet

I’m still getting familiar with writing on Tumblr, it’s going to take time to get used to, but I am determined to keep up this little series. Feel free to give me suggestions, ideas and feedback! Once I get a little more experience on here I will definitely be taking requests!

Warning: age gap, smoking

Summary: After arriving in Alexandria, Rick is still on high alert, uncertainty about the people who live within the walls of his new, unfamiliar home. But one person has caught his attention.

•••

It had been a few days since Rick's awkward encounter with Daisy. Days filled with constant vigilance and a haunting undercurrent of thoughts he couldn't quite shake. It wasn't that he wanted to dwell on her—he had more important things on his mind. His group needed him. He had a job to do. But every time he tried to focus on something else, her smile, the way her presence had thrown him off balance, was all he could think about.

The only thing that had given him some relief was that he hadn't seen her again. Maybe she was just a distraction. Maybe she was a complication he didn't need in his life. Rick didn't know, but he was trying not to care.

Then, Josh showed up—the next day as promised.

Rick hadn’t expected to meet him so early in the morning, and honestly, he didn't care to. The second Rick opened the door to find Josh standing there with a bag of clothes for Judith, his first instinct was to size him up—and Josh didn't pass the test.

The guy was a walking contradiction. Tall, built like a man who thought he could outfight anything—if only he wasn't too busy looking at himself in every reflective surface. His eyes were too sharp, his smile too wide, his words too loud. Every word that came out of his mouth was like a hammer, like he was so sure of his own importance that he couldn't help but drag the conversation on longer than necessary.

Josh talked about everything: his old life, his job (before the world ended, of course), the way he used to pick up chicks in the old world. Rick didn't care about any of it, but Josh didn't seem to notice Rick's lack of interest. Rick's gaze kept flicking to the side, his thoughts constantly returning to the discomfort of being this close to someone so... self-absorbed.

Josh made a big show of how "lucky" Rick was to be living in Alexandria. Of course, he didn't know Rick's situation, didn't understand the kind of weight he carried. Josh was the kind of guy who had probably always gotten what he wanted, with little effort. And Rick hated it. He hated the way Josh assumed everything was easy, the way his words filled the room like noise that had no purpose.

But Rick smiled thinly and nodded, trying to keep it together. He didn't trust Josh. And if he were being honest, he didn't trust anyone in Alexandria.

The day had drifted into the afternoon, the sun still high in the sky, but Rick couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him. The police uniform felt wrong against his skin. It was new, crisp, and clean, and he hadn't worn a uniform in a long time. It was a reminder of who he used to be. But it didn't make him feel any more like the man he once was.

He was supposed to patrol, to keep the streets secure. But instead, his eyes darted everywhere, scanning for any sign of trouble, any sign that this place wasn't as perfect as it seemed. Alexandria was a different world, but that didn't mean it was safe. Not yet. Not until he figured out exactly what was going on here.

Rick walked the streets, his steps heavy, his mind preoccupied with a thousand things—his group, the community, the job he had to do. He found himself circling back—his steps falling directly infront of his home. But something caught his eye. Something, or rather someone.

It was her.

She sat on her front porch, casually holding a cigarette between her fingers, exhaling thin streams of smoke into the air. She sat in a white wicker chair—her legs pressed to her chest—her eyes were fixed on something beyond him, but when Rick's gaze met hers, it felt like a jolt of electricity shot through him.

The moment dragged out, and Rick stood still for a few beats, watching her. He hadn't expected to see her again, regardless of the close proximity of living courters they shared. She wasn't like anyone else in Alexandria. She didn't belong to this world in the way the others did. Her beauty was like an ache he didn't know how to place, and every time he let himself think about it, it made him feel exposed, vulnerable.

She had a toddler with her, a little girl playing on the steps with chalk, oblivious to the world around her, drawing swirls and shapes on the pavement with innocent joy.

Rick swallowed, trying to calm the sudden rush of adrenaline that coursed through him. His mind screamed at him to keep walking, to focus on his patrol. But before he could stop himself, his feet were moving toward her. There was no logical reason for it—no good reason at all.

His legs felt heavy as he approached the porch, the quiet creak of the boards beneath his boots amplifying in the otherwise still air.

He wasn't sure why he'd walked over there. It wasn't like him. He didn't go looking for distractions. But her presence—her softness—had drawn him in, like a magnet.

"Thank you," He rasped, his fingers flexing at his sides. "For the clothes," he said, the words coming out without thought.

Daisy's eyes snapped to him, quick and sharp, like she hadn't expected him to be standing there. She inhaled deeply, the smoke from her cigarette curling around her in thin, lazy spirals. She studied him for a moment, her lips parting slightly as if deciding how to respond.

"No problem at all," she said, her voice lighter than he remembered, a hint of something playful in her tone. "How're you settling in?"

Rick nodded, trying to shake the odd feeling crawling up his spine. "Good," he muttered, his eyes drifting involuntarily to the toddler, still absorbed in her drawings. The little girl's chubby fingers worked furiously at the colorful chalk, oblivious to the world around her. Rick felt something stir in him—some quiet ache that had nothing to do with the apocalypse and everything to do with the future.

But his thoughts were immediately pulled back to Daisy as she untangled herself from the chair with a fluidity that was too easy, too graceful for the world they now lived in. It shouldn't have been so disorienting, but it was. She stood a couple steps above him, her proximity—so close to him—it should not have made him feel so... nervous.

He forced his eyes back to her face, but his focus wavered when the faint scent of vanilla and stale cigarette smoke wrapped around him like a blanket, invading his senses and pulling him deeper into the haze of her presence.

It was strange. The smell. He hadn't thought about it in so long—vanilla, perfume, something soft. It hit him in waves, disorienting him. He hadn't smelled something that normal in a long time. A sharp rush of dizziness caught him, and for a moment, he didn't know whether it was the world shifting beneath his feet or just the effect of her.

She moved down another step, the faintest rustle of fabric—the oversized t-shirt she accompanied brushing her thighs. It shouldn't have made him as anxious as it did, shouldn't have made his pulse pick up, but it did.

He had to get control of this. He couldn't let her get under his skin.

"So, this your job?" Daisy asked, her voice lighter now that she was standing directly in front of him, just a step above him. not that far away at all. "What are you, a cop or something?"

Rick swallowed, his breath caught in his throat for a second as he stared up at her, trying to keep his expression even, trying to keep everything in check. "Just helping out," he said, his voice a little rougher than he intended.

She smiled at him, but it wasn't the playful, easy smile from before. There was something softer in it now, something that tugged at him in ways he wasn't ready to deal with. "I see," she said. "Well, the uniform suits you...I think you look real professional.”

Rick's breath hitched, but he forced himself to look away.

His chest grew tight at her words, even though they fell mindlessly from her lips. The way she spoke, the subtle playfulness in her voice—she was so casual, so effortlessly confident, it felt like she was holding some secret that Rick couldn’t quite figure out. His pulse quickened as he cleared his throat, trying to steady himself.

“So, Deanna’s throwing a party?” he asked, the words feeling like a lifeline to something that wasn’t this strange tension between them.

Daisy hummed, leaning back against the porch railing as she took a long drag from her cigarette. She flicked the ash, eyes narrowed thoughtfully, then her tongue darted out, dragging across her bottom lip. Rick tried not to notice.

“That’s what I hear,” she said, voice low, teasing, like she wasn’t fully invested in the conversation, but was enjoying his company nonetheless.

Rick looked down momentarily, shifting on his boots, trying to steady himself. His eyes darted up, catching her delicate form again. The soft curve of her neck, the way her fingers grazed her shirt. His gaze lingered before he spoke, unable to keep the question from escaping.

“Are you gonna be there?”

She pulled the hem of her oversized t-shirt down, her movements graceful, as if she had all the time in the world. She glanced briefly at the child still scribbling on the pavement with chalk, a moment of soft focus before she turned briskly, walking a few paces onto the porch, her fingers gently stubbing the cigarette into the ash tray. Her movements were like something Rick couldn’t quite place—effortless and fluid, like a dance he hadn’t been invited to.

“Josh,” she said, her tone casual, “he really doesn’t like those sorts of things.”

Rick stiffened at her words. It wasn’t the content of her statement, but the way it made him feel. The sudden, cold undercurrent that seemed to leak into her tone. There was something there. He could feel it, even if she wasn’t saying it outright. But he decided not to press. Not his business. She was none of his business.

He nodded slowly, the unease settling in his gut.

Daisy shifted on her feet, but her smile was soft now, a different sort of warmth to it, one that made his chest tighten. Her hands wrapped around herself, and she leaned against the railing, eyes on the horizon for a moment, as if contemplating something, before she turned back to him.

“For you,” she said, her voice warm, light, and playful, “I might make an exception.”

Rick’s heart skipped a beat. The words sounded innocent, but the way she said them made him shudder. There was a subtle shift in the air around them, like the temperature had gone up by a degree or two. Her voice, the soft smile—Rick’s body was already betraying him, responding to the unspoken invitation in her tone. But she wasn’t looking at him like that.

“And I have to meet your little one. I’ve been dying to get ahold of her.”

Rick’s chest tightened even more. His breath caught, and he stepped back instinctively, feeling the weight of the sudden pull in his stomach, that hot, unfamiliar pressure. It was like his mind and body were at war, his gut screaming at him to stay focused, to turn away, but his body wasn’t cooperating.

“Well,” he rasped, forcing a smile, “I should get back to it.”

He could feel the heat of her still lingering, the weight of the conversation heavy in the air between them. His feet moved almost reluctantly, but his eyes stayed fixed on her for a fraction longer than necessary.

A quiet moment passed before Daisy spoke again, her tone a little lighter, almost teasing as she gave him a soft smile. “Right! Well, stay safe out there, officer.”

Rick let out an amused chuckle. He couldn’t tell if the chuckle was more for himself, trying to ease the tension that had wrapped itself around him, or because she had said it in that way, with a wink of playfulness that made his chest tighten all over again.

But Daisy couldn’t help it. She let out a soft laugh, almost like an afterthought, before she caught herself, shaking her head.

Rick felt the strange flutter in his stomach, the sensation unsettling, like the world around him had shifted. He felt exposed—like she’d somehow managed to see something inside him he wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

“Stay safe, Rick,” she said, her voice still light, but the faintest trace of something deeper lingered beneath the words. She turned back toward her child, but the unspoken tension hung between them like a thread pulled too tight.

Rick walked away, each step feeling like a battle against something he didn’t understand, something he couldn’t control. His mind was a mess, and every inch of his body screamed at him to forget the moment, to forget Daisy.

But her words, her presence—they weren’t something he could easily shake off.

[girliism]

she gets the job done. (18+)

cowgirl!tashi duncan x reader

-

a new summer called for a new ranch hand that your parents have hired to take care of the horses your family has been raising for generations. and god, she was so much prettier than the ones from past summers.

-

despite being raised around them you would not consider yourself a horse girl, the opposite if anything. your parents use to have to beg you to at least stand near one, but since the day tashi duncan walked onto your property everyday at the same time you would stroll into the stables and make an attempt to flirt with her.

“morning.” you had put on the shortest short you could find and reveled in the way tashi let her gaze linger on your legs before adjusting her cowboy hat and greeting you.

you watched tashi in all her glory. the way her ass looked in her jeans, how she softly groomed one of the horses. running her fingers through its mane and petting it in long strokes. she was so good with them, stern when it came to their training but still sweet with her praises. you wondered if that’s how she was in bed too…

tashi hummed along to the country music playing lowly throughout the stable. “so how are they, the horses.” you walked your fingers along the stable doors, inching closer to her. tashi dropped the brush in her hand and turned to face you. “honestly? they’re some of the best horses i’ve worked with. i’m hoping i stay long enough to see this girl give birth.” she referred to the horse she was previously grooming. a tall black and white stallion, her lineage being the oldest one of all your horses.

“oh please, you should have seen them with our last ranch hand. absolute terrors.” you replied. “maybe, they all just like me too much.” she joked, a smirk forming on her face. you stalked closer to her. “well, who can really blame them. you’re incredibly likable.” before tashi could respond a mans voice cut through.

“babe.”

the both of you turned to where a tall brunette stood tapping his watch and singling you to come on.

you let out a sigh. “i— uh, i have to go.” tashi nodded “yeah, you don’t wanna keep him waiting.” she said with a certain tone that you didn’t pick on.

-

“you have terrible timing, fyi.” was the first thing you said when you approached him.

“what, did i interrupt your perving?” patrick said. patrick who lived a golf cart ride away and has been your friend since middle school. you pinched his side. “first of all, i wasn’t perving. but yes you did interrupt.” patrick rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up. “shoot me for being on time.”

patrick stayed over the entire day, and when night fell the two of crowded in front of your mirror getting ready to go out.

you took step away from the mirror. “ok, hows my dress? too short?” you turned in a circle giving him a 360 of your tight little black dress that rode up slightly when you walked. patrick surveyed you. “you look hot.” you clapped. “now what about me. is the eyeliner to dark?” you shook your head. “no. it’s look so good.”

pictures and videos were captured of the two of you for you respective feeds before you guys set out for the night.

one the way to the car you could help but look over to the guest house tashi was staying at. the lights were on and you thought you could see her shadow moving inside. many parts of you itched to wanna go to her but you ignored them hoping into patrick’s jeep.

-

the music at the bar was loud, and the insides felt warm from the shots after shots of alcohol you and patrick were consuming.

“it’s just i haven’t been fucked in so long, and i want her so fucking badly.” you ranted. “what if she’s not even gay?” patrick threw out there which makes your eyes roll. “tell me patrick, how many straight girls do you know that have a mini lesbian flag keychain hanging in their pickup truck?” you put emphasis on the type of car she drove, downing another shot.

“well at least you’re not barking up the wrong tree.” patrick muttered, his eyes focusing on something, someone behind you.

“alright, who have you been eye fucking?” you turned your head to see three different people patrick could be eyeing. “the hottest blonde man i’ve ever seen.” he smirked. you let out a playful scoff.

after a while said blonde man made his way over your table, leaning down to whisper something in patrick’s that had him biting his lip before he walked off.

patrick’s gave you a look, a look you knew all too well. “please don’t hate me, but-” you cut him off with raise of your hand. “it’s ok, i’ll fine a ride a home.” patrick gave you a cheeky grin and kiss on the cheek. “thank you, i love you. oh! you should call your cowgirl to pick you up!” and then he was gone, chasing after a one night stand.

you had a few more drinks while contemplating calling tashi.

“hey, uh— it’s me. could you come pick me up?”

-

“fun night?” tashi said, when you climbed into her truck.

“something like that.”

the car ride was quite only the low hum of the car engine cut through the silence.

tashi parked her car on the gravel outside your huge house.

“thanks for the ride, sorry if i woke you.” tashi shook her head. “it’s nothing, i’m glad you called.” neither of you got out. just looked at one another as if daring the other to make the first move. which you did.

you reached your hand over, and in a second your lips were in hers. tashi could taste on her tongue what you had been drinking. and you could taste the cigarettes she had been smoking and some kind of fruity drink. it made you want more.

you locked you fingers in the strands of her hair, and deepened the kiss. both of you panting messes in each other’s mouths.

“wait.” tashi pulled away from you. “we can’t do this.” you looked at her confused. “what? why?” she just shook her head. “because, you… i-i work for your parents.” you opened your mouth to protest but tashi spoke up again. “and you’re drunk right now.”

you rolled your eyes at tashi’s excuses, and leaned in to kiss her neck. “i’m like barely even tipsy. and my parent wouldn’t care.” you sucked a tiny mark under her jaw.

“what about your boyfriend?”

that made you freeze and move back. boyfriend? why would she think you had a boyfriend?

then you thought back to earlier, to patrick calling you babe and throwing his arm around you. you let out a groan and dropped your head in hands. “i don’t do girls with boyfriends.” tashi said, leaning over you to open the car door. “but-” you started, but she cut you off. “good night.” she left you no choice but to exit the car muttered a small good night.

you walked of the course of shame all the way back to your bedroom where you collapsed on you bed. turning on the tv and letting some cartoon drown out your embarrassment.

-

you were woken up by the opening of you room door, and patrick’s voice.

“raise and shine, sweetheart. i got donuts and advil.” you chucked a pillow at his face. “what the hell was that for?” you popped your head out from under the covers. “i hate you.” patrick laughed, and crawled into your bed next to you. “i take it someone didn’t get laid.”

“i was so close patrick, but then you had to ruin it.” you whined. “what did i do?” he said, mildly confused. “she thought we were dating, patrick!” he went silence before letting out a loud laugh.

“it’s not funny, pat. i particularly threw myself at her last night only to get rejected.” patrick cuddled close to you. “i’m sorry. maybe next time, yeah.” you huffed.

“maybe.”

-

when night fell you landed three knocks onto the guest house door. tashi opened it coming her in your view. she was wearing a wife pleaser and some pajama shorts. her hair was still damp from her shower.

“what are you doing here?”

“i wanted to apologize for last night…” you said, fiddling with your fingers behind your back. tashi sighed, moving out of the way to let you in.

she had redecorated the guest house completely, and made it so…. her.

you stood awkwardly next to her couch. “i really am sorry. i definitely was way more that tipsy last night and i apologize if i made you uncomfortable.” tashi walked closer to where you stood, her height compared to yours caused you to have to look up slightly.

“it’s fine, really. i was just protecting my peace, you know. i’ve done the whole girls with boyfriends thing and never again.” she laughed.

you nodded, rocking on your heels. “ i get that, but i uh— don’t have a boyfriend. patrick’s just my friend, my extremely touchy, affectionate friend.”

there was pause before tashi spoke.

“good.” she said under her breath, moving even closer to you. the backs of your thighs hit the couches armrest. “because i really liked kissing you last night.”

before you could respond it was tashi’s turn to initiate the kiss. one of her hands on your waist the other clutching the back of your neck. you pushed back into the kiss matching her pace. this kiss was more sober and determined than the one yesterday.

tashi moved from your lips to neck, sucking and kissing a few marks there. you melted into her, your legs parting subconsciously. tashi slipped her knee into the open space and pressed her thigh against your crotch.

“o-oh!”

you felt tashi smirk into the skin of your neck at your reaction. her fingers left your waist and pulled teasingly on the waistband of your pajama pants.

“can i?”

your rapid nods were all she needed to sink to her knees pulling your pants and underwear with. you stepped out of the clothes pulled around your ankles and spread your legs wider for her.

tashi placed kisses on each side of the inner thighs before licking strip up your cunt.

“oh my god!” your head fell back and your fingers found home in tashi’s hair, gripping the strands tightly as she sucked harshly on your clit. “wanted this, wanted you for so long.” you confessed, bucking your hips forward. “me too, baby.” tashi hummed, sending vibrations up your body.

tashi pulled her head back to watch how her two fingers pushed into your pussy, sucking them in. “fucking gorgeous.” she flicked her tongue over your clit.

your moans and the squelching sound coming from tashi’s fingers fucking in and out of you floated in the air. you moved your hips in time to meet the thrust of her fingers. her nose knocking into your clit. “ta-tash, m’so close, gonna cum.”

she stood up, leaving her fingers to do the rest of the work. you could taste yourself on her when she kissed you. you whined into her mouth when her finger tips poked against the soft spot inside you. the constant pressure she applied there paired with her thumb rubbing circles on your nub had your eyes crossing as you came.

tashi let you ride out your high on her fingers before slipping them out. you caught your breath, moving your hands to tug at tashi’s shorts.

“wait.” she stopped you. “not yet.” she grabbed your hands and pulled in the direction of her bedroom. “sit on the bed, i’ll be right back.” tashi whispered, before disappearing into the bathroom.

you took off your shirt, leaving yourself naked lounging on her tashi’s comforter. you got lost in the smell of her that lingered on her sheets and almost missed her entrance.

tashi stood at the foot of the bed. she had on nothing but a black harness that held a purple dildo. the sight making you wet again. “you know you’re only here for the summer right. do you always travel with a strap?” tashi huffed a laugh. “never know when you’ll meet a rich girl in need of a good fucking.” she crawled onto of you. her brown eyes staring into yours. “you look so pretty on top of me.” you said softly. she cracked a smile. “you look so pretty below me.” tashi replied.

she slid the dildo up and down your slit before pushing inside of you. your back arched slightly from the stretch. tashi stilled inside you for a moment before hiking one of your legs up on her waist. she fucked you with long hard thrusts, the head of her cock knocking perfectly on your sweet spot.

“look at you. taking me so well.” tashi grunted, dripping her head down to suck a nipple into her mouth. “perfectly made to get fucked.” she snapped her hips faster getting loud gaspy moans to fall from your lips. “oh my god, tashi. fuck!”

tashi stopped for a moment to sit back on her heels. her hands gripping your thighs as she fucked you harder and faster. you held onto the sheets under you. your back arching up and your tits bouncing from the force. “gonna -nnhg!- cum again.” one of your hands slipped down to play with you clit.

with a few more thrust from tashi, you came on her silicone cock. she slid out of you and unstrapped herself from the harness before cuddling close to you. “can i finish you off.” you whispered against her cheek. she gave you the ok and you trailed kisses from her neck down her chest, stopping to lick over nipples before you disappeared between her legs.

you spent time there sucking and licking her cunt, pushing your fingers in and out until she came.

“was i good?” you hovered over her, your lower face wet and glistening from her juices. “so good.” she whispered against your lips before locking them in a slow but hard kiss.

“what now?” you rested your head on her shoulder while she traced zigzags up and down your back.

“hmm, round 2?”

-

[gerec]

cherik fanfics that they have an unhealthy dynamic but with a happy ending?

Anon you're asking about one of my ALL TIME FAVOURITE TROPES yes!!! Here's a post a made previously that you'll want to check out, though they don't necessarily have a happy ending:

Dysfunctional/Toxic Relationship

You'll find some duplicates below from that previous post, but these ones (and a few new additions) do have a 'happy' ending - though the definition can be up to interpretation lol. I hope you enjoy!!!

----

Rampage by wallhaditcoming (uvcatastrophe)

When police uncover evidence that notorious serial killer Magneto is obsessed with Professor Charles Xavier, they immediately move to put him into Witness Security. Only Xavier refuses. The police come up with trumped up charges to arrest him and thus keep him safe until they can apprehend the killer. Erik is not happy that the police have chosen to drag Charles into this and are now trying to keep him from him, and shows his displeasure the best way he knows how -- an increased body count.

The Ways We Bend (And Break And Mend) by RageSeptember

Six months after Washington Charles is well on his way to recover health, sanity and purpose, but not yet ready to accept Erik's overtures of reconciliation. When Erik decides to press the issue with an unexpected proposal, things quickly spiral out of control and both men are forced to confront not only their feelings for one another but the complicated nature of their desires as well.

Missed Connections by thatoldbroad

On a subway ride, a random stranger catches Charles's attention and from there his obsession begins.

I'm a bullet by Isolee

Since mother - since the house - since Cain - he's adapted. He can do anything. Now he wants something, and he suspects he might even deserve it. That, and the sight of a wedding ring on Lehnsherr’s left hand lands like a hit of something expensive in his blood stream.

Confetti In My Mouth by paperclipbitch

AU. “I’ve slept with all your models except for the one I’m related to,” Charles responds carelessly. “And so have you, before you make that face at me.”

Forwards by orphan_account

Erik tries to convince Charles that they are perfectly suited for each other. This takes time, conscience-wrangling, sex, biting, and fighting, in various combinations.

Everyday Love in Stockholm by tahariel

Magneto is the ruler of the posthuman world.

His only secret? Charles Xavier, the human he's kept locked in his bedroom ever since his right-hand woman, Mystique, came to him pleading for mercy for her stepbrother, who accepted her mutant form and protected her as a child. The human he started fucking after Mystique was killed in battle, despite the guilt he feels at contaminating even this last promise to the woman who was integral to his life's work and happiness.

The Bell's Toll by MonstrousRegiment 

XMFC/Nikkita crossover for a prompt in the Kinkmeme.

A sort of fusion between the two series, with a healthy (or not) dose of my own imagination. Charles Xavier goes to prison, and is recruited by a spy/assassin division of the government. Dismal a beginning as this might look, it unbelievably goes downhill. Erik, the necessary stoic ex-military man, gets sidled with him. Not a single person is amused.

Deep Cover by Subtilior (multiple endings including a happy one :D)

Omegas in heat? The perfect whores. Sebastian Shaw? The bastard who kidnaps them for his Hellfire Club. Erik Lehnsherr? A hard-boiled detective who's been on the Hellfire case for months. The catastrophe that unfolds when he goes in on retrieval and finds Charles Xavier still writhing in a Hellfire bed? .... Deep Cover.

Got You Locked Down Like Police by brawlingdiscontent (1st of a series)

Mob AU. Logan’s straightforward ‘retrieval’ job gets complicated.

Paper Rings by vvividlyy (HOT OFF THE PRESSES IT'S AMAZING!!!)

Using sex to avoid his feelings is working great for Erik, until it doesn't.

[colossrat]

Marvel is old. Like, not just bcs he is a entity of zillions of years old Billy was born and imprisoned for several years in a relatively conservative time full of prejudices.

When the time bubble pops and the League finds out about it, they expect Captain Marvel to be some kind of very close-minded, militaristic guy who will find the new generation full of sins (They don't know that in Fawcett there is so much magic, different species and queer entities that it is impossible to really be a socially backward place. They also don't know that the captain is a guy who doesn't like the police very much and his favorite sport is beating up nazis)

And well, finding out that the guy you thought would give you headaches in the modern age is actually super happy about it is kind of shocking Batman already had several slides ready to give the captain a lecture about respect

Marvel: Oh my gods, I found some pamphlets about these pride parades. Mr Batman, can I take this weekend off? I would love to go with my brother there!

Batman: Your... brother?

Marvel: Yes! Well, my whole family. We were part of some protests for the queer community in my time, but we were not part of any since the bubble. He liked the idea, but he's too shy to go alone, so me, my brothers and sisters wanna go with him to support him!

Batman: ... Of course, I will arrange for someone to take over your monitor duties

And next week there are several news about how the new-old heroes appeared on pride parade.

They help with things like free water and snacks distribution, first aid for minor injuries, they ensure that no homophobes try to start a fight, they don't let it turn into a mess and in general they also participate. They are practically all painted in colorful colors, their capes are personalized, some of them are dancing, others are further away taking care of the environment. Marvel does some magic tricks, makes rainbows appear in the sky and all that And they absolutely shower the green-suited superhero, aka they bro, with support and love. Vicki Vale and Cat Grant are dying to know why

And things like this just keep happening. Is there a protest in Asia about feminism? The Shazam family will be there, Mary and Darla protesting while their brothers stand around staring at anyone who wants to intervene. Community centers for homeless charities? captain will appear to call the public, ask for support and do some tricks to please the rich Donations to hospitals? They are all out there distributing news, asking anyone who can help, to help. A movement for teacher salary justice in Brazil? They are already there to help Or are movements taking place to preserve Brazilian flora? because of the criminal fires happening in the Amazon? They are there again, using their magic to heal what was hurt, put out what burned and protest, demanding more attention from the government. Do they want to take away land from indigenous tribes? They're going to have to go over the captain first. News broke about high levels of trash in the ocean. But Aquaman barely has time to deal with it himself, he sees his co-worker there with his family gathering pieces of trash and separating them for their own disposal, using spells to separate chemicals and water pollution. Is Gotham suffering from polluted air? The captain will gather a bunch of clouds and sprinkle them with some magic, and his raindrops will gradually purify the air for the people Is a police officer being cleared after attacking a teenager? no no no, marvel will be in front of the police station in the morning along with a bunch of civilians wanting justice Does a police car, or any car in general, have a sticker that supports some kind of tyrannical movement? apology for the Nazis? to an oppressive government? a prejudiced joke? Oh man, you better be ready for dawn with every part of this car missing, probably being sold illegally and having the proceeds sent to charity The fact that the captain calls the police bastard pigs was a shock, some got defensive and such, others thought it was great. It was a slight headache for the Justice League when it came to the media, but it's not like the government liked them before The movements in Brazil are there because im brazilian, raised by a teacher, there was no way to avoid it. Billy come to brasil <3

[marzipanilla]

lol I was gunna ask if you'd seen the new eps yet. The answer is apparently yes

If you think how Mark and Eve get together in the show is bad !! Wait until you hear about how in the comic she dated William first (he doesn't come out as gay until later) and straight up tells Mark that she did it to be close to him. The stupid future her speech does get brought up between them and she is upset about it but like... I don't remember her having such meta commentary about the future her not being her and how weird it all was. Like. If you writers were aware how stupid it was WHY THE FUCK DID YOU LEAVE IT IN. it gives nothing. truly. nothing to the narrative. Instead of inventing stupid shit to put in, why not just naturally let the two of them bond over their fucked up family situations? Eve could be all hey, I was made as a government weapon, and Mark could be all my dad wanted to use me as one !! and they could party. But no. A sad middle aged woman cries at you after an insanely traumatizing moment in your life so now you gotta date her proxy.

To keep adding on to the lack of platonic relationships... fucking Samson once again desperate to call them all family when he's still barely spoken to any of them. Did something happen to you man ??? you an orphan??? you having flashbacks to the OG GoG getting rid of you??? why are you so determined to use that word ?? did someone just say it once to you and you thought it sounded cool ??

Also Imma laugh my ass off if they force me to watch Immortal and Kate get married and that girl still doesn't get another outfit. fr I think she has had the same wardrobe for all eps now.

What if the team had actual team dynamics : \ what if they gave us that. instead of one liners. what if there was an indication these ppl actually liked working together. what if there was an indication of who didnt like working together! what if they... had to... communicate with each other !! tbh, I was amused by this sort of happening in the recent ep batch, but then I remembered it was so intermittent in the narrative that it feels jarring when it does happen. pls I need more than two scenes a season if you are going to keep telling me these characters are important as a group.

Art having immunity bc he knows everybody. lol don't try and shake down the tailor, its mutually assured destruction AND you'll have heroes and villains on your ass who just dont want to have to find a new guy. Is having a Rosenbaum costume like having a Gucci bag?? is he considered lower end to others?? does he try and keep a very strict schedule to keep things separate or do nemesis run into each other sometimes at his place picking up stuff?? How did he become friends w Nolan ?? the man tipped him w books ! books he never read ! did he just find Nolan's alieness charming? did Debbie make them hang out? did he just figure a guy who came here from another planet might be lonely so offered to hang?? is he so used to seeing villains that Nolan's offness just didn't bother him? like he didn't even realize he was picking up unsettling vibes ?? also it seemed like he didnt get the Omni-Man suit until around when Mark was born, so what was he tailoring for him then? copies of his Viltrumite kit?

Its funny how little time Mark actually spends around other heroes. On one hand it would make sense that a fair number would want to avoid him, but thats really only reflected in Immortal. Literally nobody else seems to give a fuck. He really is the special nepo baby of the GDA. Monopolizing all that Cecil time.

Yeah normal until not only works if the ppl involved were normal at some point, and space alien hiding the fact he's here to do a lot of murder, and woman who is apparently fine w marrying a god creature ARE NOT NORMAL. How did they produce such an average child. Why is the scope and depth of this universe only relative to Mark's existence. whyyy. it squishes so many compelling things down into nonsense.

While I'm not too familiar with the DCU- your batfam meta posts are intiguing- so in transfering some of the broader strokes from them- I think you tackling a 'Mark isn't Nolan's biological son' fic would be fascinating. Sort of a step to the side of the 'what if Mark never got his powers' fic that sometimes pop up in the fandom

OOOOOO chewing on this currently, hm, the much a distinct flavor of exactly what you’re talking about, but the potential for more family drama depending on WHO knows. Does Mark know?? Is he waiting every day only to be crushed? Does he confused non-Debbie features with Nolan’s? I suppose I’m not the most enthusiastic about non-power AUs, but I think there’s something very fun to explore about Mark having to settle with, if he knows all his life, he will never have powers? I think the trajectory of his dreams will obviously shift, I can see him still having that distinct fatherly idolization, but perhaps embraces being useful to the GDA? Cecil’s number one intern—only intern—curtesy of nepotism, ha! There is something tickling me about Mark taking the Robin Route/Role for the Teen Team in terms of having no powers, just insane skills, BUT there’s something way more delicious about intern Mark when s1e01 happens and Mark tries snooping around to find out the truth about what happened to his Dad.

I wonder if, with Mark having a whole another father, if they’re more or less distant relationship, depending on WHEN Nolan entered Mark’s life? Like if Debbie met Nolan later for this, or just for fun, they dated once, separated (Mark being born during then), then they happened to stumble into each others lives again and Mark’s already been born, anywhere from tween to teenager so there’s a gap in how close they are. I feel like one important aspect of the whole Family Drama is how close they’re supposed to be, a functional, loving family turned upside down? So I wonder what more distance does. I wonder how Nolan copes when his family is entirely human and he can’t project onto Mark.

I love thinking about these, omg.

[dekariosclan]

So I was watching some videos of Gale’s epilogue discussions with a friendship/non-romanced Tav, and…oh my god, Gale…

[Sorcerer] You confine yourself to the School of Illusion? I’d have thought you could teach the entire curriculum…

Gale: I did offer, as a matter of fact.

Gale: However, the Blackstaff insisted I couldn’t teach every subject, nor could the simulacra of myself I offered to create for that purpose.

————————

Blackstaff: Well Gale, we’d be honored to take you on as a professor. What subject would you like to teach?

Gale:

ALL OF THEM

[sysig]

Size difference.png (Patreon)

[tonycries]

Love Thy D!LF - T.F.

Synopsis. Yes, your neighbor is a hot, pérvy D!LF. Yes, he’s a total tease. No, you don’t think your poor new bed frame is going to stay in one piece…

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, older! Toji, voyéurísm, pánty-stéaling, male mast., exhibítionísm, he is so DOWN BAD, matíng presses, marathon s, víbrators, oraI (fem rec.), face-sítting, p slápping, p talking, BRÉEDING, mentions of kids, PÚSSYDRÚNK TOJI, proposals, overstím, creampíes, shóoting blanks, he’s a tease that’s shírtless half the time, Megumi’s a real one, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.1k (PHEW)

A/N. Apartment building wouldn’t last a week if he was my neighbor.

Neighbor (UGH): another pair of those cute lil’ pajama shorts made their way onto my balcony again, ma.

Your neighbor was a tease.

Ever since you’d stepped foot into this apartment building a mere few months ago, it seemed like everything and anything he did was to rile your poor head up into a frenzy - and, well, down there…

Because, for lack of a better term, Toji Fushiguro was hot. 

Once your landlord had off-handedly mentioned that the occupant of the apartment right beside your own was a single father, you’d imagined a sweet older man that doted on his young son and would likely steer clear out of your way. 

What you certainly had not expected was for your housewarming gift of a fresh batch of cookies to be oh-so-blatantly greeted by a staggeringly gorgeous man that took up every inch of the doorframe. Shirtless.

Bzzt–!

Your skin burns with the realization of just how deeply you’d been reminiscing back to that heavenly sight, hastily snapping your eyes back onto your blaring phone screen.

Neighbor (UGH): well? hurry before i start to like them too much <3

Ugh, you’re rolling your eyes at that mischievous little heart placed at the end of his text. It was absolutely embarrassing how that was enough to have a tiny squeal slipping through your lips involuntarily. Calling you flirty nicknames, flashing winks your way, lingering his hands just slightly whenever he helped carry your groceries upstairs - Toji did everything. 

You find yourself giving your reflection a slow one-over in your phone camera - just in case. Before padding eagerly down the treacherous pathway that carried you out of your apartment and along the five steps down the corridor to your neighbor’s door. 

Heaving out a shaky breath, you knock.

And Toji Fushiguro never made you wait. He never had you standing in the hallway for more than two seconds before that heavy wooden door swings open…almost as if he’d been suspiciously standing by for this.

“Took ya long enough. Heh, I was beginning to think you almost wanted me to have it, doll.”

Oh.

Oh.

Shit, you should’ve known - and it takes every ounce of will in your body to keep your gaze locked with the forest-green eyes sweeping down the expanse of your figure. Greedily. 

Because Toji was showing off what looked like miles upon miles of slightly-tanned, bulging muscles that were just about seconds away from ripping straight through the thin, white undershirt that stuck to him like a second skin. Molding to every curve and dip down, down, down- 

It’s not something new exactly, and if there was one thing you’d learned during your time here, it was that your eccentric neighbor wasn’t shy to show skin.

Especially around you. 

In one hand was grasped the soft fabric of your cotton shorts, swallowed up by his thick digits. The other propping up on top of the door to flex his strong biceps in a way that makes you gulp. 

You notice with a jolt that Toji’s pinkish tongue briefly peaks out to swipe over that sinful scar sitting prettily at the very edge of his smug smirk. Moving to hum cockily, “Cat got yer tongue?”

He knew what he was doing. 

God, this was already shameful enough without him making it worse. You were only grateful that so far you’d been called over for only a few sundresses and t-shirts - nothing scandalous, yet. 

“No-” you’re mumbling out. Trying oh-so-hard to not let your eyes flicker to the too-tight strain of his boxers around his thick thighs. Failing. “Just wondering how you probably need those shorts more than me, anyway.”

He didn’t - in fact, you’d prefer him without one.

A fat thumb of his finds its way to the hem of his boxers, tugging down so tantalizingly slightly to give you a sexy flash of skin. Lined with a sharp hipbone, and a dark happy trail - “S’that your way of tellin’ me you want me out of this, ma?”

“You wish, pervert.” You try to swipe at your shorts, only for Toji to dangle it far, far away from you. “I just meant those b-boxers look like they’ve seen better days. Years, even.” 

“Hah?” Toji’s dragging out mockingly, leaning his broad shoulders against the doorframe. He’s crossing his hands, letting your sight be obscured by the display of his strong, rippling forearms. So close now that you feel his breath fan your face, could smell every waft of his cinnamony masculine scent. Grin only widening, “M’being nice enough to take the time outta my day to hand over your cute lil’ pieces of laundry and this is how ya talk to me? I have better things to do, y’know.”

Huffing, you’re ready with a quick apology on the very tip of your tongue to get this over with as soon as possible. That is, before-

“He’s lying.”

Both of you snap your heads down towards the direction of the sullen, deadpanning voice. And you already know by the wearied sigh at the end who it belongs to. 

“Why, hello there, Megs-” you’re smiling, reaching out to ruffle those spikes of black hair that’d magically manifested beside the door. Ignoring Toji’s affronted grunts of “he never lets me do that.”

“He’s lying, y’know.” Megumi blinks his eyes up at you, and you silently wonder just how it was possible for a six-year-old to look like he’s seen all the horrors of the world already. He’s ruthless. Pointing a sharp, accusatory finger up at his father, “He doesn’t have better things to do. He’s been giggling disgustingly to himself in front of the door for the past-”

“That’s enough- why don’t you get some homework done, my son.” Toji’s clapping his hand immediately over Megumi’s mouth, wrangling his tiny, thrashing body over one shoulder before briefly disappearing inside. 

“Just tell her!”

“I’m taking your iPad time away!”

It’s just about all that you hear from inside before he makes his appearance again - shaggy, black tresses now disheveled, high cheekbones flushed, and from the corner of your very obvious staring you notice a pearly bead of sweat disappear between his cushiony pecs. Though, your eyes follow, you didn’t mind…

“Tch- kids these days, right?” he’s gasping in a few hurried lungfuls. Planting the shorts into your open palms, his calloused pads linger on your hand. “S-so uh, I take that the dryer’s not working, yet?”

You’re sighing, rubbing your fingers over your throbbing temples. “Yeah, I told Higuruma- our landlord to look at it, but he’s still on that business trip and won’t be back for a while. Sorry about all this, Toji.”

“Please-” he’s waving. “You worry your pretty lil’ head too much, it’s not like m’complaining now. Am I?”

“Yeah but-”

“Besides. Why don’t I take a look at it?”

“What?” your brows scrunch together, and the thought of Toji being inside your home made your words tremble ever-so-slightly with- anticipation? Excitement? Want? Whatever it was, it made his dark brows raise, and you’re sure you had an utterly unexplainable look on your face right now. “Do you even know how to?”

He’s scoffing, eyes rolling at you with practice. “Asking me if I know how to fix shit- of course, I fuckin’ know how to fix a dryer. Probably better than ol’ clipboard Higuruma himself. You need to be taken care of, y’know.”

And, yes, that might be so - but more than that came the idea that Toji had to enter your home to do so. You couldn’t help but think of something else. Making you mutter out a heated, “I’ll…consider it.”

He smiles a smug smile, a tiny dimple digging into the very end of his cheek. “Tha’s what I like to hear, ma.”

The very second that door shuts, you’re rushing back to your own apartment. Shorts clutched to your thumping heartbeat and thighs slightly weaker than they were just a few minutes ago. Slightly…hotter. Ready to scramble back into your bedroom and create just a bit more laundry for tomorrow. 

And only a few seconds later does Toji find himself doing the most pathetic fistbump behind closed doors. The beginnings of a sleazy smile on the very edges of his lips. 

“Smooth, dad.”

“Now I’m serious about no iPad-”

Megumi’s running back into his room before that rasping threat has even left Toji’s predictable lips. Grumbling, he’s making his way to that godforsaken frog-cased iPad cushioned in the middle of the sofa, possibly to hide it away for a few hours.

And then, he sees it. 

Now, one of the very reasons that Toji had rented this apartment in the first place was for that idyllic skyline winking up from over his balcony. Towering buildings, flashing lights, all overlooking his living room couch - which, unfortunately for him - or, well, fortunately more like - just-so-happened to be positioned right next to your own balcony lined with laundry. 

So it wasn’t exactly a surprise for him to catch a fluttering piece of cotton or ratty sleep shirt of yours for him to tease about later. 

With a sigh at the flashing piece of fabric, he’s shuttering the sliding window open - ready to call your pretty self over again before-

“Shit.” Toji hisses, deep baritone wavering. His brows are raising down at the stray cloth, prominent Adam’s apple bobbing with a gulp. You really wear this type of shit? Well, he shouldn’t exactly be surprised but…

But this?

Because wrapped easily around his long fingers was a pair of pretty, pretty lace panties. Panties. All pink and see-through enough that Toji thinks he could see his own fingerprints through that flimsy excuse of underwear. 

All of a sudden…his hands mindlessly raise up, up, up - mere inches away from his nose when…fuck.

“Damn, woman.” he’s spitting, snapping back to his senses. Ignoring the tightening in his pants to speedwalk his hasty way over to his bedroom in search of his phone. Just a few clicks away from texting you- “Gonna be the fuckin’ death of me I swear-”

And, see, Toji Fushiguro isn’t the type to stutter. 

He isn’t the pathetic type to let anyone else’s voice shoot a bolt of electricity down his spine - to choke right in the middle of his sentence. 

But, you always did throw him off, didn’t you?

Because he’s letting his maw slack open in a sharp gasp- no, shudder at the muffled, drawling sound from beyond the walls. Fingers loosening around his phone in sheer shock when he snaps his head towards his shared wall where your bedroom was. 

Where he could hear your honeyed voice. Moaning. 

And Toji gulps…before locking the door to his bedroom.

Like an animal, he’s immediately sneaking up to press his greedy ear against the wall where it was emanating from. Aching for every tiny gasp and whine, he could just imagine the way you were splayed out across your plush mattress, fingers buried deep.

So cute.

“Please- it feels s-so good.” Comes your cute mewl, followed by the buzzing vrrrr—! of what he assumes to be that hot pink rose toy of yours that’d accidentally gotten delivered to his address last week. And Toji almost snickers.

“F-fuck-” he breathes out shakily. Unabashedly listening for more, more, more- “Ya can’t be serious- what a treat.”

And Toji knows he should be the bigger person and stop listening, he knows he should ignore the sultry way your trembling moans were sending shockwaves down to his tight boxers. But he can’t.

“Ngh- r-right there-” you’re whimpering, and Toji tuts at the way he could’ve found your sweet spots much earlier. “-yeah- hah- jus’ a little more- Toji-”

His phone clatters! to the ground.

Did you just say…his name?

“Fuck-” One massive hand of his comes down to clap over his jaw-dropped mouth, biting back an answering moan coming from something dangerously dark, primal from inside his heaving chest. 

Shit, he can’t breathe - he can’t even think right now because every drop of blood in Toji’s entire body was sprinting down to his heavy cock smacking down his thigh. Rock-hard. Angry. Just twitching when your voice repeats his name louder. 

“Toji—!”

Ah, there it was again. And with it, he can feel every shred of his sanity being thrown away. Only once- twice was enough to get Toji addicted. To have his melty mind yearning to hear it again. And again. And again and again and-

Toji feels pathetic. 

Like some hormone-hazed, younger version of himself when his hands frantically fumble their way to hook into the elastic band of his boxers. Feeling absolutely zero guilt when he tugs-

Toji was hard. Painfully, furiously hard just from the mere sound of your voice. Swollen and sobbing. It was enough to have his fat, strawberry-pink tip smack! against his toned abs, smearing down a wet glissade of precum that makes him hiss. All but drooling at the scratch of your panties being wrapped delicately around his sensitive shaft. 

“Oh god.” he’s breathing out, thumbing over a wet glide on the bawling divot of his swollen head. It’s pooling like a translucent little puddle, wet enough that those pearlescent beads gloss a wet trail all the way down to his wrist. And he’s popping the salted-caramel digit into his mouth. “Wh-who the fuck do ya think you are ta get me this hard, ma?”

The fat curve of his thumb latches on to plug up the very ends of his cock, stopping himself from wasting a single precious drop before listening.

For anything.

“C-c’mon–” Toji lets his heavy body lean against the wall after a few more sloppy squelches that pull from your saturated cunt. He could already hear how dripping wet you were. How needy. “Wanna hear your hah- pretty lips talk-”

Toji’s sinking his sharp canines onto his lower lip to hold back a groan. Because as much as he loved to hear himself talk - hearing you moan was worth more than anything. Even if it cost him his rationality to quieten down. Please- 

Ah, his prayers are answered.

Because the wall slightly jitters with your vibrating voice once more. “Oh- sh-shit it feels so good-”

“Heheh, does it?” he’s grunting, drawing a slow wetness of swirls on the underside of his slit. Hard enough to send him seeing stars. “Tell me- t-tell me more, ma.”

And could you read his mind?

Because whatever’s left of it certainly seems to think so at the way that no sooner are the words spilling from his babbling lips that you’re feeding his blessed ears with a few more syrupy sweet whines. And Toji shivers when he hears the creak of your bed.

Damn…he could make it break. He’s sure. 

The thought is enough to send his hips rutting into his fist, furiously fucking up into it like he was angry. Like he wishes he could do with you-

“O-oh-” Toji gasps out a hot, condensed breath feeling the slight massage of your thin panties at his twitchy balls. He’s unsteadily picking its sticky cloth apart to press it even deeper into the drenched tufts of black at his hilt, down every thumping vein that’s lightning-bolted down his length. “This thing b-barely even wraps around my cock, doll.”

He’s hot. So, so hot. Latching onto the hem of his undershirt with his teeth to swipe across his sensitive nipples. 

Burning.

And, really, he didn’t know what was worse for his poor self - your noises from just the other room, or the way your panties felt so good down his cock in this one. 

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He twirls your panties around his fat hilt, meshing against the creamy pink at his hefty base. Fucking it up, up, up with pound after pound that half-leaves the poor thing in tatters. Well, he sure hoped you didn’t like this pair too much. “Probably so fuckin’ oh- wet now, huh? Did I do that? Didn’t know you were s-such a slut f’me.”

Every slobbering drag down his length has Toji’s dark brows knitting together. Back and forth back and forth back and- So hard. 

So hot and heavy. He could barely catch his breath, sweat perspires across his forehead, and Toji could almost taste the metallic tang of blood when he’s holding back every rasping ah! ah! ah! just to hear your voice. 

It was agonizing. 

And he couldn’t help but imagine the way you were probably toying your tired fingers over your clit - the way you’d probably be so shy at how he could so clearly hear you. Killing Toji that it was the only thing he could do.

SLAM!

“Shit-” Toji’s snapping his head up at the mindless way his free hand had come smashing down onto the nearby drawer for any shred of balance. Sharp ears searching desperately for any sign that you’d heard-

“Ngh- yes- jus’ a bit more-”

He breathes out a guilty sigh of relief when the saturated slurps of your cunt only continue. Filling his mind sloppily like his favorite song. Gulping in a harsh wad of saliva before spitting a thick stream right onto the very edge of his plump, reddish head. His hulking body wracks with a violent shudder as it drip! drip! drips down every tender spot on his swollen cock. Beading down to cover his heavy balls in a thin sheen of spit. 

“Look what you’ve done.” he’s spitting. Other hand coming down to rub lazy, massaging circles around his bulbous, cum-filled sacks. The sheer stimulation enough to have his head lolling drunkenly against the wall.

“M’so close-” Your voice only makes Toji fuck into his hand even harder - if only it was you. You, you, you - the only thing playing around his currently stupid mind. “-g-gonna cum ah-”

That makes him bawl out another furious wave of precum staining your panties see-through, glinting with every flutter down his raw cock. Faster. It was building and building up so close-

“C-close already?” he’s snickering, bending at the knees with how weak he was. Toji’s biceps flex and and ache with just how wildly he was fucking up into his fist, abs rippling with each wild buck. He half-wonders if he’d be able to see that pretty frilly pattern of your panties imprinted on his cock the next day. Over and over- “I woulda m-made you cum sooner.”

Would your beautiful eyes roll to the very back of your head when you did?

Would you beg him to cum, too? To fill you up. To breed you. Shit, that had his hefty shaft twitch in his hands, electricity flashing behind Toji’s eyes. 

Would you moan his name - oh, please moan his name.

“P-please-” Toji finds himself gasping, and his entire body was hunched over now. Pathetic. Waiting for any second that you’d reach your high - he was a gentleman, after all. “Cum f’me- ah fuck fuck fuck-” Twiddling a manicured thumb in a slow line underneath his sensitive slit, it was making him moan so dangerously loud. “-please- cum on this fuckin’ cock, ma.”

“Fuck! Toji-” Comes your yelp, and it makes his mouth water. Breath held in a choked-up gasp in his puffing chest, “-m’cumming.”

He could see it already - just how pretty you’d look with your head thrown back and your back arching into his cock when you finally reach your high. 

Now, Toji doesn’t know what overtook him to drag those drenched panties up to his face - to press it thoroughly against his nose and smell your essence. Breathing it in. drinking it in. But he can’t pretend like he hadn’t imagined it many, many times before. 

And it makes him cum 

It makes him shudder with a heavy puff of air, once. Twice. Before dumping and dumping out stringy wads of seed until your soft panties were soaked.

“Oh shit- shit shit shit-” he spews out a slurring slew of profanities, painfully hard cock bursting at the end with wet splatters of cum. So much of it. It’s making such a filthy mess that he almost feels guilty. 

Jaw clenching when he’s forced to part with your panties with a pained gruff, sliding it along his thoroughly coated cock. Hi cum seeps through the fabric and into a milky puddle that pools at his wrist, dripping down a milky sheen across his skin. 

“Mmpf–” his mouth salivates. A low, disappointed scoff bursting at the back of his throat when your own obscene noises quieten down. He missed you already. Dewy eyes veering to the back of his head, he’s only wondering how much prettier these would look on you. Still as ruined. “You’d be lucky to get these fuckin’ panties back, woman.”

Bzzt–! 

From its discarded place on the floor, he can read the notification flashing across the phone screen.

Cutie-next-door: I’ve decided - can you come by tomorrow to fix the dryer, pleeeease?

---

“-ah, ya see when this vent is clogged s’gonna stop working. And so what you hafta do is-”

You weren’t listening.

You couldn’t.

Because Toji Fushiguro was sprawled out across your cramped kitchen - completely shirtless.

You had half the mind to turn him away after he’d knocked on your door with absolutely no sign of any upperwear - that sleazy grin plastered all over his face begging the answer to whether this was on purpose. To tease you. “Can move better this way” your ass. 

But the thought of having even more of your laundry fly away, forcing you to potentially face this very same display multiple times is what had you opening your front door wider to let him inside. 

No matter how much you would’ve appreciated the view…

And so here you were, squirming in one corner of the kitchen while Toji worked on your dryer. Sweat sheening down his swole muscles, disappearing in tempting beads down underneath his low-hanging pants. Slight smears of grease decorate his pecs, and you have to cross your arms to stop yourself from thumbing them away. He was so handy. 

Shit, this was why you’d dolled-up just a bit more than usual. He was so-

“-doll? Doll.”

“Uh-” you’re yelping, blinking your eyes back up to meet an extraordinarily smug smirk now directed at you. “W-what were you saying?”

“Heh, I was saying you should take a picture, it’ll last longer.” he titters with a slight rumble, tools clinking when he’s taking off his bulky gloves. “Ya can enjoy the view later, but I was askin’ if ya had anything to dry right now to test this piece of junk.”

Urgently, you’re looking towards your empty laundry basket. “Sorry, seems that I dried them all out yesterday.”

“No pressure, besides-” You can only watch when he shuffles a hand inside one of his curiously bulging pant pockets. “-I came prepared.”

“Wh-wha- where did you get that?” 

Because held so daintily within Toji’s cocky clutches, dangled one of your missing pairs of panties. They looked recently washed, and you’re reaching with a yelp for it. Falling onto your knees to match his seated position - which, obviously didn’t mean he’d hand it over. 

Why would he? This was Toji Fushiguro. 

He only throws them into your dryer, before closing the door with a dark snicker, “More like why let them fly their merry way over to my balcony again. Honestly- you call me the tease but look who’s talking.”

“You’re saying I’m the tease?” you shrill. The embarrassment was getting to you now - it was overconsuming you - and if the leering smirk on Toji’s face was anything to go by, you were sure that it was visible. 

“If the shoe- or, well, panties fit.”

He was so cocky about his stupid lil’ joke. 

You stab a rude finger right between the valley of his pecs, copping a feel of the velvety smooth skin. “Sh-shut up, if you want to talk about a tease then let’s talk about who showed up to fix a dryer shirtless.”

“Part of the outfit.” he shrugs. Tilting his head up at you, and shit, it finally hits you how precariously close you two are right now. Toji’s splayed out on your cool kitchen tile, while you’re straddling his slender waist with jittery legs, pressed up against the heated proximity of his unfairly shirtless body. Chest-to-chest. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy the view, little miss had-a-fun-time-yesterday.”

You blink, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But in true Toji fashion, the closest to an answer you get is a large hand attaching roughly onto your waist. Jostling your body close enough for him to breathe out in a feverish chuckle - hot, and purposeful against your ear. “The walls are thin. Just sayin’.”

Oh.

Oh, shit. 

You knew exactly what he was talking about - and so did he. 

“...I heard you, too, y’know.”

Ah, you can now live your life happily knowing that you managed to make the ever-confident Toji gasp. You managed to make him part his lips in a slight gape, green eyes glinting with a hint of something dangerous as they widen. His sensory digits pinch at your hips. 

“You mean-”

“Yes.”

Uncharacteristically, Toji takes a few gulping seconds to find his voice. And when he does - the very sound is enough to send shivers down your spine and make you wonder for a split-second whether this was really him. Hoarse, pained when he muses, “You heard me and still continued?”

Instantly, you’re trying to form excuses. “No! I mean- yes. It’s just that…”

“Heh, cute. You continued because of me- didn’t ya?”

Your jaw drops in shock, now a slightly defensive tone bleeding in with the embarrassment of your actions. “I-I mean I was doing- it- just fine before I heard you.”

Toji cocks his head, and only says one thing - “Prove it.”

.

.

.

“T-Toji this is embarrassing-”

But oh, all that Toji was wondering was whether he’d knocked his head on that goddamn dryer and gone to heaven already. 

Because splayed out for all his pleasure on the cushiony bed was you - quivering legs straddled wide open, your back arched in such a delicious curve that makes his mouth water. Your silken sheets were disheveled and sloppy enough that you’d have to pray the dryer works now. Glistening cunt winking down at him eagerly, just begging him in cute, slurring squelches after every buzzing push of your vibrator.

And Toji? Seated right underneath your cute cunt - hovering mere inches away from sitting on his cocky smirk. 

All he’d been imagining. As gorgeous as how he’d imagined you yesterday- no, even more so.

Toji’s leering up at you, muscular thighs manspreading even more to show off his furiously hard erection. “Shhh sh sh-” Toji hums, eyes unwavering from right between your legs. “She’s the one talkin’ to me right now, doll.”

And surely enough, it’s almost like he’s having a conversation with your pussy. Nodding and drunkenly humming along to every slurp that resounds across the heady room. “Tha’s right, make her- make her even wetter for me.”

He’s letting loose his long pinkish tongue to catch the drops of your sweet, sweet juices that slide down his throat. 

His breath is so steaming hot against your cunt. Feverish. You huff out a dragged-out whine, kissing up your plump clit with the very edge of your rose toy. Just barely teasing the sensitive hood, “B-but I need you so-”

“Now now, what did I say?” he tuts away your stubborn moans easily. And you’re gazing over your shoulder upon the utterly unapologetic grin that falls across Toji’s face when he tugs down his own pants to flash you with the fat, rotund curve of his ruddied tip. Curling his fingers over the very top, “You don’t need me, remember- Let that pretty pussy talk with me or all you’re gonna do is watch.”

Except now you didn’t think you could talk even if you wanted to.

Your eyes are glazing over with a fresh wall of need when they fall greedily upon the peaking sight of Toji’s fat cock. So massive that it makes your jaw slip open, your cunt gushing out in a few gushes of slick. 

“Oh shit- shit-” his eyes widen at the sight, so thoroughly honed in. Almost as if he doesn’t even realize he’s speaking to you. Doesn’t even know. And a few ringing squelches is all it takes for him to throw his head back with a groan. “That got ya wet, ma, didn’t it? Made your cute ngh- c-cunt happy?”

“Yes-” you’re gasping, winking away the overstimulated tears in your eyes. “B-but I want you-”

“Tell me exactly  what you want, doll.”

So bossy, you want to snap back. 

But right now you’re too hypnotized by the slutty sight of him to say a word. The way he seemed so ruined. That you can’t help but whimper, “I want you to hah- make me cum.”

And it’s just a split-second later when his brawny arms come wrapping around your jittery waist, hauling you over like some glorified rag doll to seat your fatigued legs down. Your dripping cunt meeting his mouth in a sultry, sultry French kiss. 

He doesn’t waste a second longer - almost as if beating himself up for all the time wasted - before dragging his tongue to open your presoaked folds. Swirling so hotly to smear them out across his lips, Toji dredges his raised scar across your most tender spots and moans. 

Sweet.

So sweet.

“This- this fuckin’ delicious?” He sounded like he was losing his mind, swatting aside your hand. “Move that fuckin’ hand. Y-you were- you were holding out on this? Could eat this cute cunt all the time- could marry ya-”

Proposing and proposing and kissing-

He latches down his glistening canines around your clit and pinches, almost as if a little punishment. And you could practically see the delight lighting up his dark eyes when your cunt slowly grows even more drenched. Little masochist, he’s thinking. 

You yelp when without any sort of warning his cheeks hollow out in a sudden suck at your sensitive nub, swirling his tongue over it. “H-how’s that feel?” he giggles - giggles. “Better than your imagination or what?”

It already was. 

But you couldn’t let his ego expand anymore than it already has, so the only thing you’re managing to do is trap a few sweat-dampened locks of his hair and drag your slobbering cunt down Toji’s mean mouth. Partly because you needed it, partly because you needed him to shut up. 

Choking out, “D-don’t get so full of yourself, Toji–”

“Full of myself?” he’s chuckling - face smeared with a translucent mask of glistening slick that told you exactly why he should be full of himself. It glosses over his curled lips and drips down Toji’s sharp jawline. “Full of myself? Gimme that-”

Instantly, your till buzzing vibrator is being snatched meanly out of your hands. “S’this what ya want, instead, ma?”

Toji didn’t expect an answer.

And you can’t give him one.

Because that furiously jittery probe is being bullied right between your puffy pussy lips, licking a languid line down the edge of your sloppy hole. Before he’s bullying the long end inside your eager entrance-

“Does it feel good?” he’s taunting. Sinking down onto your clit and pulling. “Oh yeah- feels great. Doesn’t it?”

But it’s such a mouthful that sputtered out into your clit. The vibrations of white-hot pleasure making your spine bow like such a slut into Toji’s ravenous mouth. And your jaw slack open in the most strained of whines, “Y-yeah feels so-mmpf-”

Immediately, your mouth is being firmly shut closed with one of Toji’s mountainous palms, and he snickers. Giving you pretty lil’ cunt a pat that has splatters of slick speckling all the way to his lips - ones that he gladly licks up. And then some at the remnant excess all over your thighs. “I was talking to her.”

“Y-you’re so mean.”

At this, he pulls back and blows a heated gust of air against your puckered hole. “And you’re fucking drenched.” That spearing bullet is lodged firmly against a few tenderized sweet spots that make you keen. “And she’s saying…s’not enough.”

You were sure he was talking for himself. 

Or…was he? 

Honestly, you don’t even know - you didn’t even realize what you were missing until the fat girths of Toji’s digits shove their filthy way into your narrow opening. Already so stuffed, yet, he’s scissoring aside the vibrator into the gooey depths of your walls. 

Either you could take him or he’ll make space. 

Whistling out in awe, “Dontcha think this feels muuuch better?” As if to whittle out another one of your syrupy sweet noises, you’re being gifted with another sopping wet thwack! against the ready nub of your clit. Before Toji wraps his scarred lips around it and sucks. “Look- she’s even fuckin’ wetter.”

You didn’t even have to see to be able to know - because you could hear. 

Toji was steadily pummeling your cunt with the most staggering smashes of the rounded curves of his fingertips into your sweetest spots. Jostling the vibrator inside, knuckles smashing it with friction to rub up against your constricting walls. 

Honestly, it was just so much. You felt stuffed. 

“F-feels like m’gonna explode.” you mewl at the heady thump! thump! thump! shuddering all across your body - and you didn’t know whether it was because of the thundering pulse in your ears, because of the way Toji’s fingers were crashing and thrusting against your tender g-spot. His neatly cut fingernails glide soaking wet grazes over and over in a sloppy staccato. “Ah! Right there, it f-feels so good-”

“Tch, you think I don’t know?” Toji’s rolling his eyes, muttering his words into your sopping slit. His free hand comes slamming down in a harsh smack! against your ass to make you lug against his face faster. “Ride yourself on me, ma.”

You stumble through it - yearning for more. 

“Faster.”

“I-I’m trying.’”

But it wasn’t enough. Obviously. 

And Toji’s impatiently revolving one hand around the curve of your waist to make you press down hard in the most sultry gyrations. Around and around it had him hypnotized. “Not tryin’ hard ‘nough. Cuz this pretty lady h-here’s just crying to cum, doll. Ya hear her?”

How could you not?

It’s all that you replay in your mind. Accompanied with a shot ngh ngh ngh that was curdling at the very back of Toji’s throat. Whispered into every graze of his tongue down your slit, you took a quick glance backwards to catch the way that he was properly fucking his fist now. 

Long, thorough drags down his achy cock to bead out wet sloshes of precum. Only getting faster. Sloppier. Red and angry-

“Shit.” you’re whimpering, hands steadying on either side of his bulging deltoids. It felt like your very bones were rattling along with the vibrator. Nails digging in to the muscle, “I th-think m’close- think m’gonna-”

And oh Toji’s eyes stray to the back of his head at how reminiscent this was of just yesterday. Snickering a heavy, “You ‘think’? I know she’s so fuckin’ close. Can feel her. Isn’t she? Gonna cum? Gonna make a ngh- mess on me, is she?”

Answeringly, he’s leaving another few smacks! on your mound that have your gooey walls fluttering, the double penetration of both the buzzing bullet and his fingers too much. Too close. You feel every delicate bundle of your nerves exasperate. 

And it’s impossible not to mumble out drunkenly - embarrassingly. “Sh-she is.”

It’s so rough.

Both your release and the way that Toji was fucking you through it - because the very moment he hears your breath hitch in a saturated manner similar to last time, he’s tugging out your buzzing vibrator and toppling it somewhere over the bed. Replacing it with every long inch of his heated tongue- 

Like hell he’d have you cumming on some damn plastic before his tongue.

“Shit- it feels so-” Barely managing to formulate the words into coherent syllables. Your body convulses when he swiftly pecks your pretty clit with the rose toy instead. “-so good- ngh! M’cumming m’cumming ah-”

Toji’s fucking you through your high with the double stimulation of his fingers and his tongues spreading open your snug insides mercilessly. Ruthlessly. Wave upon wave of pleasure that had your toes curling, vision flashing white. Sensitive pussy dredging up from the very bottom of his sharp chin all the way up to his button nose. 

It’s adorable how tired you were already, already huffing and puffing for breath. He could almost laugh if he didn’t have a mouthful already.

“Yeah tha’s right-” he slurps, more than talks. Thick digits curling tight and thumbing over his twitchy divot to wall up that velvety wisp of cum from escape. Leaving kiss after kiss to have your drooling cunt ride his sexy features faster. “-give it t’me.” Greedy. “Give it alllll to me.”

But even that didn’t seem like enough.

Because even after your aggressive orgasm was petering out into mere tingles at your quivering pussy, even after he’d slurped up every tiny drop of your honeyed juices - Toji Fushiguro was starved. 

So completely ravenous when he speaks, “I think…she’s sayin she wants ta squirt, doll.”

“Wh-what?” you’re breathing - you didn’t even know if that was possible.

With a surprising amount of gentleness, Toji’s placing you to sit all prettily on his spread legs. Just slobbering your pussy lips in an innocent smooch over his hardness. 

“Heh, what? Don’t trust me?” Toji cocks his head down at you in sheer smugness, a glistening gloss stained all around his lips. It made him look so fucked-out. And he felt like he already was - but Toji wouldn’t admit that. No, he’s only murmuring a wet, “Or are ya scared that m’gonna get ya ah- addicted?”

You showcase him with a slight pout that makes his riled-up cock twitch in one hand. That makes him immediately kiss it away - letting you taste him. Taste yourself. 

It’d already taken everything in him to stop himself from cumming just by making out with your cunt. 

“No s’just that- I’ve never squirted before…”

His words are sure. Confident. He’s echoing them from not too long ago, “Lemme take a look at that.”

And apparently Toji’s definition of taking a look is to slide the curve of his thick thumb in-between your dribbling slit. Up and down until his lips curl in a smile, “Well she’s tellin’ me that she can-oh shit, look at that.” Those very same fingers wrapping around the hilt of his thick cock to nudge your folds apart. “So why don’t I fix that, hm?”

God, Toji is so much bigger than he looked - which was staggering considering his sheer bulge was enough to send your mind reeling.

The curve of his fat tip bathes in a few more of your syrupy drops before bullying inside-

“O-oh my god-” Your voice wavers, sweat simmering all down your body at how dizzyingly Toji was spearheading your cunt open. Wide. So much of him that you didn’t know whether to buck your hips away or down for more, more, more- “S’too big- shit, don’t even know if I can ngh- t-take it, Toji–!”

“Oh, say my name like that once more n’ you’re gonna ah- hafta take every inch.” he grunts out, snarling smile making your gummy walls flutter around him. 

You’re being fed every solid inch, Toji’s girth making your tight circumference stutter. Gaping your sloppy hole wide open around his expanding cock- shit, just the slightest peak into your heavenly depths was enough to have his fat length swelling. Pushing into your tender sweet spots when he grows. 

“Y-you got even bigger?” you gasp, and it makes him cackle.

Throwing his head back to laugh, “Of course I got f-fuckin’ bigger when you feel like this, ma.” And two of his roughened palms glide their greedy pathway downwards to spread your thighs even further. Using gravity to his lewd advantage to help you gulp down your every mindless grind to simply fit himself inside. “W-where have ya been all my life.”

And Toji sounded like he was genuinely distraught that he didn’t know. 

He was genuinely so upset, lower lip wobbling with pure bliss once your overstuffed pussy was resting on his sharp hip bones. Giving an experimental little gyration of his hips to swirl his shaft around your walls, it makes you whine. 

“Tha’s what m’fuckin’ talking about.”

And then in a split-second, you’re being slammed onto your back and wrangled into the meanest mating press you never thought possible. 

It’s like Toji was out of control. 

Feral.

A slight trickle of drool trailing down the edge of his growling lips, “Shit- take my fucking cock ngh- take it all, doll. Ya don’t know how long I’ve been d-dreaming of this.”

“Yes yes yes-” you sputter. Edging your uselessly limp thighs to lock around Toji’s straining neck - and if he was going easy on you before. Then oh, you weren’t ready for the way this makes him snap his flexing body down to fold you in half. His sweat-beaded forehead knocking gently into yours, “-been ah- been dreamin’ of this ever since I m-moved in-”

Shit.

The thick pudge of Toji’s relentless head careens into the bullseye of your g-spot easily. And Toji titters to himself about the pretty moans that drag from your shot throat - that is, if he had the self-control.

Because your previous words were still thundering in his pussydrunken mind, and it makes him gasp. It makes him shoot his eyes open almost comically, it makes him crash his lips into your with a sullen hiss. “Give a man a fuck- warning. You c-can’t just say- things- like- that-”

As if to prove his point, he’s planting a few more heated French kisses against your sweetest spots. How he mapped them out so quickly you had no idea. 

His feverish breath hovers over your own mouth, gusts bounding out with every pound into your cunt. He’s bruising the circular branding of his sobbing tip down your spongy cervix, a tiny ah! of disappointment leaving Toji’s stern lips at the recoil that had him pushing back from the very bottom of your pussy. 

He’s so filthy. 

“Because what if–” It takes you a few seconds to realize that he’s still babbling drunkenly, flicking over a calloused thumb over your clit to get your delirious attention. “-are ya listening, woman? What- ah- what if I told ya I was the fuckin’ same. Wanted to f-fuck this cute cunt the moment I saw ya, wanted to ruin her- to breed her-”

And just when he’s heaving in such a sharp inhale. As if he’s spoken too much.

Yet, even through the way that Toji was fucking you stupid - you still manage to latch onto his words. 

“Y-you wanted to ah- cum inside?” you’re blinking up at him innocently in a way that only made his hips jackhammer against yours harder. Teasing your sensitive clit with a pinch. “Tell me, Toji.”

God- you said his name. 

Shit shit shit, didn’t he tell you not to-

“Yes!” Toji’s shuddering out, hefty balls twitching and thwacking their tight, cum-filled sacks against your ass. He’s fucking you so wildly. The mating press that he had you in let him glide a wet thrust down every single nook and cranny inside you. Every forbidden sweet spot. “Wanted- wanted it so badly- ah-”

Batting your teary lashes, “How badly?”

Two of Toji’s mean fingers come up to smush your cheeks together into an embarrassing pout, and he’s using that cutely ajar opening of your mouth to spit. A thick, honeyed wad of saliva that purposefully splatters along the edge of your lips - because Toji had perfect aim. He could’ve streamlined it all neatly between your lips.

But you looked and tasted so sweet this way.

When he could just kiss it away filthily with a drag of his tongue, “Shit- what a filthy fuckin’ mouth. Ya really know how to m-make me lose my mind, hm?” Splaying out one large palm about halfway down your stomach, he’s exploring for a lewd cylindrical nudge. A throb when his thickened head was smashing into your g-spot. “If ya i-insist- m’gonna fill ya up until I can feel it-” Pressing down. Hard. “Here.” And now he’s running his mouth a mile a minute, he’s dazed where his cadence grows sloppy. “Until you’re overspilling. Until yer all r-round and hngh- glowing and shit-”

God, he was flying too close to the sun.

Egging him on, he was fucking you into the bed like he was furious at you. Lurching out rickety creaks from the bedframe at his riotous slams! Teasing, “S-s’that it?”

“Is that it? I-is that it?” he’s repeating. Over and over like a humorless mantra. “No tha’s not- ah- fucking ‘it’. M’gonna shit- make you mine. Gonna fuck a b-baby or two into ya.” Shockwaves of electric white flashing down his spine when your gripping walls cling around him like a velvety channel. Stumbling through words, “So they’re gonna know- ah- th-they’re all gonna know what I did. Hah- how I ruined ya…”

You can only sob, “Toji– m’gonna-”

Stimulating tears gather up beside Toji’s eyelids with every pressurized ram, and he finds it in himself to rasp a drunken giggle. “G-gonna give Megumi a lil’ sibling, ma?”

He doesn’t have to hear your response, he doesn’t think he can. Because no sooner are you crashing into your orgasm that Toji is as well. 

He realizes before you - far, far before you at how you were squirting. 

Drizzling your juices in a coating gloss down his cock, his abs, some spattering up to Toji’s lips. He took a look into it alright. 

Your bolting waves of bliss intruded by his rummaging cock. Twitching once. Twice. Before struggling out thick gushes of sweltering hot seed. 

It’s splattering onto the very back of your bruised and battered cervix in a wet thwack! Oozing out the sides of your silt, you feel your gummy walls being inflated. The tug of ribbons upon ribbons of cum being fucked into sloshes inside and coats your melty walls like a second, sticky skin.

THUD!

Toji collapses onto his wearied forearms, caging you in with his big beefy biceps. Hips slowing down to tiny, subconscious ruts wrenching out the most obscene wet squelches. “Th-the heh- the fuckin’ bed.”

Only then are you batting your fatigued eyes open to realize that one side of the bed was sagging dangerously. “Toji did you b-break the bed?”

“Ah- so what?” And he’s scooping up your pliant body easily into his arms. Lifting you. Manhandling you. Pulling out of your split cunt for just a second to slam! you down onto your nearby work desk. The cool mahogany against your front makes you hiss, “I’ll jus’ t-take a ah- look at it.”

With this, he’s pressing down on the slightly bloated area near your cunt. Gaping. Gushing out thick remnants of his cum - it’s like he was playing around. 

The sight so heavenly that with a dragged-out gasp he’s finding his weepy cock blast out a few more wispy strands of cum. Shit.

“Shit- marry me-” Toji’s throwing his head back with a whimper - a whimper - when his jolting cock veers dangerously into the territory of shooting overstimulated blanks. “Marry me I-I swear. Gonna ah- put a pretty ring on ya, my doll.”

Which is why he’s swirling around his greedy pointer around your gaping entrance. Toying with the creamy ring of seed that’d painted its way around his thick base. Toji pools a few creamy dredges on his fingers and shoves them into your babbling mouth. “Ngh- Toji–!”

“Nowww, let’s see ngh- already finished off th-the bed-” he’s rattling off. Counting on a few fingers of his, “-we have the ohhh fuck- don’t squeeze m-me like that, ma, m’still sensitive- this desk, the floor- the dryer.”

“The dryer?” you mewl. “But you j-jus’ fixed that-”

“Ah, consider it a lil’ payment…along with those panties of yours, of course.”

And it’s only later. 

Hours and hours later, with your bed frame broken on one leg, your desk absolutely shattered, and your carpet soiled with a few whiteish rivulets that you’re finding yourself seated into a tight full nelson on top of the dryer. Toji still splitting you apart inside, shooting blanks before the front door rattles with a sudden knock! knock! knock! 

A deep voice resounding from outside, “Anybody home? It’s Shiu Kong. Higuruma sent me here to fix the dryer.”

“Fuckin’ Shiu…wanna let him in?”

---

“Hello, Shiu? How did the fixing go?” It’s by the next day that Higuruma gets a call in the middle of his important business meeting. One that would probably stay with him for a long, long time. “What do you mean the dryer is broken beyond repair?!”

A/N. Hope you all have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.