#I hope he enjoys his retirement
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Matpat will always be welcomed into the FNAF universe
#myart#chloesimagination#comic#matpat#ness fnaf#mike schmidt#abby schmidt#dj music man#music man#fnaf#fnaf movie#game theory#security breach#fnaf fanart#five nights at freddy's#Today is matpat’s last theory!!#I drew this in celebration for the occasion!#Matpat’s character Ness meeting his beloved Music man#people asked if I’d ever draw this and obviously today felt like the perfect time to#I hope he enjoys his retirement#Tysm to Matpat for everything!!
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Ничего не останется от нас, Нам останемся, в лучшем случае, мы
hi. hello. listen to this song
i have so many thoughts about these two. oh my god. maybe i will write it out some day, but for now drawing it out will do
translation will be under the cut! knowing the words does add to the work so i do recommend reading it. or just enjoy the art <3
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heres the translation, color coded according to how i broke it up for the art. just in casies
first page:
Love is scarier than war
Love strikes more true than steel
second page:
More true, because of your own volition
third page:
You run towards all the winds
Let there be pain and eternal battle
Not atmospheric, not earthly
fourth page:
But definitely with you
caption:
There will be nothing left of us,
we will be left with, in the best case, ourselves
#kunst huli#legend of zelda#botw link#botw zelda#botw zelink#tloz#zelink#totk#botw#i cannot express how proud i am that i actually managed not only to finish this#BUT. to have it look GOOD#painting stuff n making it messy in an appealing way has always been a fucking STRUGGLE for me#n i do think u can see my over-rendering tendencies rear their head up on the last one#and also i guess i should have made the last two pages connect like i did with the rest of them but i think it still works. thematically#the last one is like. the end. a break. the start of a much needed retirement#a breather u might say!#i also think the devs should have let link hug her at the end#he deserves it he thought hed never see her like this again#oh alsooooo since im on a tangent anyway#like many people i was disappointed by the cop-out of just giving link his arm back at the end of totk#and i still think it would be cool if he didnt#(or if he kept the magic hand. just imagine how thatll help with all the restoration work dlkfgjdfkgjdfkg)#BUT anyway. i thought about it. n i have a theory about what tf did they do at the end to get not only zelda but his arm back#the fucking time powers!!! what if they just reversed time on them...........#much to thunk about. anyway#hope u enjoy <3#now i can go finish phantom hourglass#god i hate having to go back to the temple of the ocean king tho. its like dishonored but u cant go up OR knock those guys out
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EVERYBODY FREEZE, NEW REBUILD THE GALAXY TRAILER DROPPED



LOOK MY BABYGIIIRL
#luke skywalker#enjoying his retirement AS GOD INTENDED.#the way he's on an ocean planet too makes me giggle so hard#and MARK IS BACK#I MIGHT CRY#now-#i'm really hoping they end up showing the rest of the fab four in the series..#okay okay fine I just wanna see han..#but can you blame me IT'S THE CLOSEST TO OLD MAN YAOI SKYSOLO THAT WE CAN GET#I CAN TASTE IN ON MY FINGERS#i haven't been that excited about any of the new projects but they showed luke and I have risen#ridiculous.#star wars#rebuild the galaxy
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The incredibly talented and gorgeous Tom Hulce as Ivan Sanchin, from The Inner Circle (dir. Andrei Konchalovsky, 1991)
#cant describe how much i love this film#Probs my top 3 of Mr Hulce movies after Amadeus and D&E#also this was the first movie watched during my Tom Hulce Filmography Marathon 2024 so it has a special place in my heart#phenomenal masterclass acting#absolutely brilliant performance#But my poor king did not enjoy filming this at all it seems#he said it had been really difficult well it was in Russia in early 90s#almost sounded like this experience helped him move towards his early retirement#i dont know this makes me feel so strange cause#this is an incredible piece of art and Tom is totally in his element here#it is pure theatre work like Forget-me-not Lane#But if this had smthg to do with him quitting acting...?oh I hope not it kills me inside#gorgeous queer king#tom hulce#the inner circle#the inner circle 1991#filmgifs#moviegifs#thgop#My queer king#I WILL PROTECT YOU MY LIEGE I WILL FIGHT FOR YOU#Ivan sanchin#Ivan sanshin#andrei konchalovsky#I have so many Ivan gif making lined up it ain't even funny
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Transformer OC lore:
@thebrokenmechanicalpencil
Look at me go, I’m speed running. Hopefully this kinda clarifies some of Dropmix’s reasons for doing what he did, granted. It doesn’t explain everything but it gives you a bit more insight. There is a reason he’s one of my favorites alongside Sunrazor.
My man has come a long way though. He’s a lot more in control of everything when he’s with the Autobots lol.
What happens when you piss off a gladiator example one:
WARNINGS!!!!! I don’t think there are any. Unless you count unfathomable amount of rage and plotting to do nefarious things to someone.
Dropmix was close, so very close and it irked him.
No, it drove him mad.
The black and red mech felt his grip on his datapad tighten with deadly force, his eye trained on the door. His intense stare didn’t go unnoticed by the other occupant in the room. Shadowdrive shifted uncomfortably, subtly putting a little more distance between themselves and him. Typical. No matter what he did to himself he could never quite get rid of the instinctual fear someone had when in the presence of a gladiator.
Dropmix paid him no mind though. No, the only thing that mattered was what lay beyond that door. What mattered was who was behind it and what the promise of success would finally mean.
Sunrazor was going through her final assessment, if she passed it meant they had succeeded. It meant that they would have finally accomplished their goal and they would be recognized. Dropmix didn’t just want her to pass, no, he needed her to pass. He needed one of these sorry excuses as augmentation projects to finally pass before he lost his mind waiting.
Something primitive and primal reared its ugly head at the thought of finally succeeding. Of finally getting his chance.
The datapad finally crumbling under his grip grounded him, it was almost satisfying in the way it fell apart. Shadowdrive was further away now, Dropmix was no longer looking at the door but glaring at it. His filed down teeth bore into something close to a snarl. His posture was rigid and hostile, he was ready. Dropmix heaved a sigh, forcing himself to relax and return to looking more collected.
It was always difficult to pull himself back in, but it was possible, he just needed to remind himself what was at stake here. If he messed up now he would lose his only chance and then it all would have been for nothing. That settled the rage, the need to conquer and destroy. The promise of his reward was enough to satisfy predatory instincts that lurked in his processor.
His blaster weighed heavily on his waist, it was disguised as a medical tool, but he doubted he would need it. He wouldn’t fail again, he wouldn’t let them take advantage of him and slip away. Noxious was going to pay for what he had done, Dropmix was sure of that. He was going to make that pitiful excuse of a mech beg and grovel for mercy. What Dropmix did on the daily to mechs like Sunrazor would look like nothing when he was through with Noxious.
The door finally opened and Torrent stormed in. Alone.
Dropmix was going to kill someone.
“Sunrazor hesitated, again! Can you believe that!” Torrent was livid, any of his usual calculation and precision gone. His plating was flared and his voice was raised as he threw down a stack of reports. They most likely contained the results of the examination. “How dense is she? I’ve replaced all of the coding I can to rework her loyalty and yet she still–”
Torrent waved his hands in the air as he struggled to voice his frustrations, “She still has enough to hesitate when dealing with other guardians!”
Dropmix could care less. All of that was irrelevant. She had failed. Dropmix had lost his chance. He would have to keep waiting. He would have to wait until she was deemed ready enough again before he could finally get Noxius to walk through that door. Until the project supervisor would finally walk in with Torrent and acknowledge him.
It would be so simple to just rush through the door and take him. Dropmix remained still though, if he did that he would have to deal with guards. He wouldn’t get to take Noxious and make him suffer.
Torrent hadn’t stopped yelling, his anger finally turning from where Shadowdrive was cowering and towards Dropmix. He pointed a finger at the medic, flaring his plating in a challenge “And you-”
The red and black mech looked down at the other, expression conveying nothing, perfectly neutral. His movement was rigid and forced, Torrent noticed, he saw the crushed datapad in his hand and paused. Dropmix could feel it, he could see the moment the fragger remembered what Dropmix was, what pissing him off promised.
The mech stumbled over words, anger finally diminishing under the intense glare of the larger bot. Torrent had thin armor, he was not a fighter, he would never stand a chance against the gladiator, even if the armor Dropmix currently wore slowed him down. They both knew that. Torrent didn’t have a remote to control Dropmix, he had long since disabled his BCP.
Dropmix wasn’t leashed like Sunrazor was, Torrent knew that.
He turned away, returning his furious gaze to the only smaller mech in the room, Shadowdrive. Torrent’s yelling resumed and Dropmix watched passively for a few moments before setting what remained of the datapad onto his desk and walking out of the room.
He stalked through the empty halls. Hands in tight fists and jaw clenched. He would have to keep waiting when he had already been so close. He had been right there and yet Noxious was still breathing and it was driving his instinctual programs up a wall. Dropmix was playing a dangerous game, fueling his patience with the promise of more violence, of finally getting back at the fragger that took everything from him.
Noxious didn’t even seem to realize how he was flirting with death, how close he was to walking into the trap that Dropmix had long since set. He existed on borrowed time. He had dug his grave years ago and forgotten that what he lay in wasn’t a bed but a coffin.
It was a foolish thing to forget really.
Mechs had to have a desire to die if they thought they could take from a gladiator and walk around scott free. Noxious should have been the most paranoid person on the base, he should have been rereading the names and files of those under his command. He should be waiting and watching for when Dropmix finally revealed himself. Instead he had forgotten about the patience that gladiators were capable of when it came to something personal.
Noxious didn’t just take Dropmix’s eye that day. It wasn’t as easily fixable as that—even if Dropmix refused to let anyone repair it. It served as a reminder for himself of what his failure had cost. The visor served its purpose in concealing it—No, Noxious had taken more.
Dropmix was going to make him pay for taking Theremin away. He was damn sure of that.
#transformers#transformer oc#wrighting#oc writing#oc lore#I’m finally very vaugly going over Dropmix#he’s one of my favorites#he’s got some angst and unhealthy coping mechanisms#There’s som angst in this but it’s more of just Dropmix promising violence#he’s an angry angry man#and you know. he does get that chance#takes a few more tried though#he just really wants revenge#also. you want some explanation for his obsession with music?#not gonna reveal all of the lore but… a Theremin is actually a kind of instrument#there’s a reason why he likes music#and a reason he’s constantly playing it#I hope you enjoyed this#he is terrifying and I love him for it because he basically retires and becomes a dad
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chat... are we cooked?
#▇ 🌟┊🎮 ❝ just an adoring fan ❞ 🎮┊🌟 ▇ (ooc tag)#▇ 🌟┊🎮 ❝ isucc ❞ 🎮┊🌟 ▇ (isaac murmurs)#on a serious note#i really do hope he enjoys his retirement i know its for a good reason and is heavily influenced by wanting to be with family#WHICH I LOVE!!! im just going to miss him.. if you couldnt tell by the.. everything about my internet presence#goodbye theory man thank you for being my number one special interest for over a decade. cannot wait to watch this stream and probs cry LOL
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There's no way you people all like Matpat this much
#fires posts#ramblings#negative#Coming out as a Matpat disliker for both petty and inconsequential reasons and serious reasons#but I hope he enjoys his retirement or w/e
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fitzroythecreator -> teruthecreator
NEW ERA BABEY
#ignorance cloud on#i hope everyone enjoyed my april fools joke that simultaneously allowed me to transition into a new url#i had to retire fitzroy im sorry. hes dead to me now. except for the icon but i dont have anything else#AHEM....if anyone would be interested in drawing teru in that exact same pose#OR teru in tyler the creator-related gear (like the igor suit or the general aesthetics of his outfits from cmiygl)#i uh...cant pay u rn bc im saving my money for my sisters wedding#BUT!!!!!!!!!! i will love u forever and u will get credit on my blog so everyone can look at ur amazing art
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Thinking hard about retired!Simon and retired!Riley. A cute little fluffy thing about Simon and his K9 unit dog. Cuz he named the dog after himself and I personally find that a little odd, that at the same time, the dog would somehow be an exact replica of him but as a German Shepard.
Also thinking about how worried Simon would be about you and the dog getting along. His lil birdie he so in love with he's already planing your future together has to love Riley as much as he does. And maybe you've mentioned in passing that you don't enjoy dogs that much, but he holds on to faith. Simon knows how lovely Riley can be he just hopes he likes you as well remember how he has de same personality .
And then you meet Riley. It's the first time he has you over to his place. The flat is pretty empty, barely any furniture and absolutely no decoration, but it doesn't even cross his mind that you might find that odd, he just wants you to like Riley you can redecorate as much as you want once you move in. The dog barks when Simon comes in, and would usually go back to his nap, an old doggo yes he is, he gets up and goes to inspect this new guest. His tail starts wagging happily when you crouch down and coo over him, licking your face and practically jumping on you when you scratch behind his ears.
Simon almost frowns. He hadn't considered the possibility that you would start paying more attention to the dog than him, kissing his head repeatedly and sitting on the floor to cuddle him cuz Simon doesn't let Riley on the sofa. He was supposed to get cuddles from you but no, his dog gets all the attention. And then you start to spoil Riley rotten. Buying him all kinds of expensive treats, new toys and enrichment activities. Never would have Simon tried to put Riley on pastel pink sweater, but you do and Riley lets you. And Simon is almost jealous. Every time you coo at Riley that he's such good boy, yes he is, while rubbing his belly, he just crosses his arms, thinking "I'm a good boy too, I want belly rubs too"
Masterlist
#call of duty#cod mw2#cod mwii#cod x reader#cod:mw2 x reader#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#ghost fanfiction#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#just some rambles
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HOT TO GO!



18+ / mdi
summary: moving into a quiet apartment complex you expected to find nothing but solace, not your most entertaining situationship to date OR the three times you kept it casual with your new neighbor vs the one time he made things serious.
content: neighbor!jungkook, strangers2lovers, situationship (kind of), fwb, jk's a lil bit of a himbo in this fic, afab reader, smut, three smut scenes lol, penetrative sex, dry humping, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, etc.
wc: 7.1k
a/n: this is honestly just a silly and unserious fic that's mostly smut lol i hope u guys enjoy it<3
masterlist | patreon
"Oh, wow, uh, hey."
"Hi?", you looked at the stranger in curiosity, though still very shocked by the adonis of a man who had suddenly knocked on your door.
He cleared his throat and shook his head as if rebuffing himself to speak again, "Fuck, okay, that was such an uncool first impression. What I meant to say was 'Welcome to the neighborhood,' but you just caught me off guard. Sorry."
"I caught you off guard? You're the one who knocked on my door."
"Yeah, not gonna elaborate on that," he chuckled sheepishly, extending his hand, "Hi, I'm Jungkook, your neighbor," he introduced himself.
You chuckled in return, letting his ambiguity slide as you briefly shook his hand, providing him with your name, "Hi, Jungkook. I'm new here, if that wasn't obvious."
"No, yeah, you can really tell the difference between you and the old lady who used to live here. She was- wait, fuck. Did she-"
"No, Jungkook, she's not dead. The landlord told me she just moved into some retirement home," you clarified.
"Thank god," the boy sighed in relief, "Me and Mrs. Louis go way back. She used to bake me cookies on Sundays."
"Oh really? Well, you won't be getting any cookies from me. Sorry," you joked.
Cocking his head to the side, he lifted his eyebrows, "We'll see about that."
"What does that even mean?"
"I can be very convincing."
Was he flirting? Through a cookie euphemism?
"Are you-"
"Anyways, if you need any help with moving in, let me know. Maybe coming over to help build some furniture?", he suggested, "I like to be on a friendly standing with all my neighbors," he smiled as he disregarded his prior flirting, almost as if it had never happened.
"I'm your only neighbor. There's only two apartments per floor," you recalled, still amused by his oddity.
"Exactly," he winked, and with that, he turned to leave, heading back to his own apartment, "See you around."
It was through that very short interaction that you first met your neighbor, Jungkook. Despite how odd he had seemed, he carried a charm that intrigued you (though his pretty appearance also drew you in).
Closing your door, you went back to what you had been doing previously, a smile of disbelief on your face as you tried to come up with some believable reason to scout him for help – as he had offered – just to see him again.
Unfortunately, most of your stuff had not arrived yet, so you truly had nothing you could possibly use as an excuse to get him to come into your apartment so soon. It was nice, though, to know that your new neighbor was as friendly as he was (and as attractive, might you add).
~
"Hey, neighbor."
"Oh, hi, Jungkook. Did I forget to tell you my name last time?", you wondered why he'd omit your name, unless you had been too distracted last time staring at him to remember.
The next time you saw Jungkook was a day later at the apartment complex's laundry room located at the basement of the building. From what you'd seen the few times you'd walked by it on your way to the elevator, no one really seemed to use it. No one except Jungkook, apparently. You'd also come to find out that this apartment complex seemed to be occupied by mostly elderly people, with you and Jungkook being some of the few exceptions.
Eyeing you up and down in a not very discreet way, his eyes landed back on your face before responding, "No, just got distracted, sorry," he chuckled similarly to how he'd done last time.
This was the second time you'd seemingly caught him off guard, but you weren't complaining. The thought of your presence taking him out of focus gave you a slight boost in confidence, especially considering how attractive he was.
You eyed him curiously, noticing he had no laundry with him nor was he using either of the four washing machines located in the room. As soon as he came in, he took a seat on top of the washing machine next to the one you were currently putting your clothes into. When you smiled at him questioningly, he had no reaction, simply smiling back.
"What are you doing?", you asked whilst continuing your prior task, almost paying no mind to him.
"Just hanging out," he responded simply, swinging his feet back and forth as they hovered due to the stature of the washing machine he was currently sitting on.
"What, with me?"
"Yup. Just trying to be neighborly, is all. Shouldn't be down here all alone," he reasoned, "Can I help you? I love doing laundry."
You scoffed at that, "Really? You love doing laundry? Also, I don't need a bodyguard," you hadn't taken offense to his comment, but you'd found it somewhat amusing. He clearly just wanted to spend time with you, which admittedly made you feel slightly bashful. However, there was no harm in making him work for it a little more.
With a huff, he got off the washing machine and leaned down to help you organize your laundry, dividing it between colors, "I'm known as somewhat of a laundry fairy", he nodded seriously.
"Oh, so you do other people's laundry, then?"
"Yep," he nodded, "It's a whole profession. I part-time as bodyguard too," he joked, continuing to shuffle through your clothes.
"The perfect man," you retorted back, sarcasm in your tone.
"Exactly. You could make really good use of me," he winked, finishing up his pile of clothes and moving onto yours, beginning to place them inside the washing machine.
"Are you asking me to use you?", you braved it and flirted back, turning to look up at him.
The air in the room was comfortable, yet it now had a hint of something more. What it was, you weren't sure. Although Jungkook had hinted at being attracted to you when you first met a day prior, you'd never had a flirtation move so quickly. It usually took a bit more conversation before getting to the more suggestive comments, but the pleased look on his face as he looked down at you made you too excited to backtrack.
"I'm surprised it took you this long to get that. Was my self-invite to your apartment yesterday not hint enough?", he followed along, putting down the article of clothing he had in his hands to take a small step towards you, now leaving a very small distance between you.
"Oh? Was that what that was? I think I'm gonna need you to be a bit more specific. Spell it out for me, maybe?", you tilted your head to the side teasingly, almost as if daring him.
"Aw," he placed his hand on his chest, as if hurt, "That's my bad, pretty. I'll be a little more forward from now on, okay?", he coo'd, leaning down and letting his nose nudge against your own lightly.
"So, are you? Or are you all talk?", you dared him, tilting your face upwards, almost meeting his lips.
With a muted grumble, he closed the gap, pulling you towards him with a pull from your waist. Humming against your lips, he pressed you up against him, practically molding you to him as he allowed the kiss to become heated. The air in the room became even heavier somehow, causing you to mute any outside forces that could possibly take you away from a constant chorus of Jungkook playing in your head.
The kiss had no time for hesitance or shy meetings of lips as it instantly occupied the otherwise silent room with wet sounds of tongues intertwining and almost inaudible moans shared between lips. The harsh surface of the washing machine behind you almost felt like nothing as Jungkook's lips continued to distract you while his arms lifted you to sit on it. Legs opening, you welcomed him to stand between them, pulling him in my his shirt to ensure not even one second of distance between you was allowed.
Your head tilted back almost on its own accord as his lips trailed down your neck, humming into your skin after every kiss and occasional nibble of skin.
"J-Jungkook ... What if someone sees?", your common sense finally made an appearance, though you made no move to stop him.
"No one uses the laundry room here, it's fine. We have the place to ourselves," he breathed out between kisses, making his way back up to your lips.
With a scarily practiced finesse, his tongue snuck its way into your mouth, easing yours into copying his movements. Your resolve wore down quickly after that, following along with every touch of his on your skin. Despite not being one for casual hookups, it was impossible for you to deny the immediate chemistry you'd had with your neighbor. Who would casual sex with your neighbor going to hurt anyway?
His lips soon took your mind away from any further thought on the manner, trailing down your neck while his hands came up to wander under your tank top, tracing your skin with his calloused fingertips as goosebumps began to form. With soft hands and a rough tongue, Jungkook had your brain emptying at a worrying speed, now becoming a shell of yourself with nothing but Jungkook in mind. Just some kisses and some hand action already had you as putty under him, what a shame.
"Can I take this off?", he murmured against your lips, hands itching under your shirt as it rode up due to his movements.
"Mhm," you conceded, your own hands going under his shirt and feeling up the muscular skin of his back.
With your consent, his hands trailed their way back out from under your shirt, reaching down to help you out of it. Underneath was a tiny piece of fabric you could barely call a bralette, doing a terrible job of hiding the goosebumps on your skin or the hardness of your nipples. His tatted hand went up to toy with a clothed breast, murmuring praise against your cheek as he angled his head to look down at your chest. His eyes trailed to yours, finding them empty of any thought and far too wanting of more of his touch.
"How about this?" he practically whispered, one hand on your breast while the other went to toy at the strap of your bralette that had fallen from your shoulder to the meatier part of your arm, fingering at it softly, almost as if teasing whether or not he'd pull it all the way down or not.
"Yes," you almost whimpered, needing the skin-to-skin touch on your chest. Your back was already arched towards his chest, your body pleading him for more without any further words necessary.
He sighed once the job was done, your chest now fully naked for him and the rest of you almost equally as nude. It was only a tiny pair of shorts with some teeny tiny panties underneath that prevented him from your full nudity. In the meantime, he was still fully clothed. But somehow you didn't mind. His touch on your body was enough to keep you satiated. Surely you'd have your turn to enjoy his own nudity later on.
A groan left him upon hastily removing your shorts, now able to feel the heat coming from between your legs through the offensively thin panties you had on. Dragging you from your thighs, he placed you on the edge of the washing machine as he himself pulled down his pants just enough to leave him with boxers and some beaten up tank top. With a huff, he began intermittently connecting your crotches, bumping his hardness against your heat with a grumble. The art of dry humping might've been lost among many, but you were thanking any higher power that Jungkook was not one of the many to disengage with it.
"You're so warm already," he sighed, face pushing its way to your neck, nosing at your scent, "'n smell so fucking good ..."
Your nails dug to the skin of his shoulders, obsessed with the drag of his cock against you. He was hitting that sensitive, swollen spot that bad you wanting to give him a key to your apartment just so he could come over and do it over and over again.
"So fucking soft n pretty," he mumbled, "God, can't believe I got such a pretty little neighbor all to myself," he rambled on and on, "Gonna make you cum like this, okay, gorgeous? Promise I'll give you more next time, just- fuck ... just caught me off guard again's all ..." all his words were slurred, clearly marking the approximation of an early orgasm. What might've been a turn off for many others had your own high approaching just as fast. A hunk of a man such as Jungkook losing himself to mere dry humping? Sign you up!
"Me too," you almost whined, mouth open as you practically drooled at the feeling of that size and girth, excitement growing within you.
"Yeah? God, so fucking good n perfect," the praise was never ending, greatly aiding your impending orgasm.
With one last groan of your name, Jungkook's hips sped up, now dragging you more harshly into him in desperation for his orgasm. It was only a few moments into his own orgasm that you came too, too stimulated from his extensive play with your chest earlier on and simply too wound up to not find release with someone as attractive as he was.
In other circumstances you would've been embarrassed at how easily your body reacted to his own, but Jungkook seemed just as affected, still panting at the exertion his high had taken from him.
"Sorry," he chuckled breathlessly a few moments later, wide boba eyes staring at you with a shy smile, "I don't usually welcome people to the neighborhood by jumping them like that, hah, I hope I didn't overstep," he needlessly apologized as he helped you clean up with nearby towels and aided you in redressing you and himself.
Giggling at him couldn't be helped — he was far too cute. He was the perfect mixture of cuteness and hotness that it made you frustrated if you thought about it for too long.
"Jungkook, I promise you that was a very appreciated welcome," you laughed as you patted his shoulder reassuringly, stepping down from the washing machine.
"Great," he nodded with a smile, though still a but shy, "Let me help you with your laundry now, then? I won't jump you again, I promise."
"Maybe for next time, then?", you attempted to flirt, high fiving yourself internally when you pulled a shy chuckle out of him.
Next time you saw Jungkook was back in your apartment.
Maybe you should've expected him to be on the other side of that door, specially considering you hadn't met anyone else since moving here, but you also hadn't expected him to be so continuously forward.
Within less than a week of being here, you'd met Jungkook, flirted with him, hooked up in the laundry room and proceeded to wash your clothes with his aid — as it turned out, he really was better than the average person at doing laundry. And now, you were curious as to what the next thing to come would be.
After a few knocks on your door, you resumed drying off your hair and walked over to the door, skin still damp and thin robe wrapped around you. Being almost nude, you decided to be smart and look through the peephole before admitting a stranger into your home. Looking through it, you found the one person you'd hoped to see every time you left the apartment; Jungkook.
Had it been anyone else, maybe you would've bothered to ask him for a few minutes in order to get dressed before attending to the door. However, seeing as Jungkook had already seen you almost fully nude, it seemed dumb to do so. That, plus the fact that you were pretty sure how today's visit would go.
"Hey," he said casually when the door was opened.
Donning yet another tank top, the contour of his muscles could be easily seen as he leaned against the frame of the door. A confident and suave smile was on his lips the moment his eyes did a once-over of your body, clearly taking notice of the singular layer of clothing you had on.
"Huh," he hummed, "You're making this too easy for me," he chuckled, letting himself in when you stepped aside to silently welcome him.
"Hello, Jungkook," you ignored him, closing the door behind him, "Are you here to help me unpack?", you questioned upon seeing him approach the few boxes located in your living room and eyeing their contents curiously.
"Yeah. Figured you were taking too long to invite me over, might as well invite myself," he said distractedly, focus all spent on a bunny figurine he found in your boxes, mumbling a quiet 'cute' to himself.
"Let me get dressed and then we can start," you said, beginning to walk to your room while he sat on the floor, beginning to open some boxed furniture you hadn't even bothered to eye since its arrival.
Already in the other room, you heard Jungkook call over before you could close your door, mentioning something about 'You'll end up undressed anyways, but okay,' causing you to chuckle to yourself.
It only took you a few minutes to moisturize and dress yourself in some comfortable loungewear, able to hear Jungkook's ruckus all the way from your room. Despite his slight awkwardness shining through sometimes, he seemed to be a very confident guy, so it made sense to you that he'd made himself at home almost immediately upon his arrival.
Heading back to your living room, you found him sat comfortably on the floor, boxed materials to build what appeared to be a bookshelf laid in front of him while he eyed a manual. Originally, he had implied that his intention to go visit you had been for another hookup, so it amused you that he had actually taken his own words literally and decided to help you out with your furniture.
As you took a seat next to him, you decided to voice out this thought to him, "Wow, you're actually going to help me unpack?" you asked amusedly, hands reaching out to copy the way in which he assembled some pieces together.
He shrugged, "It's the neighborly thing to do," he reasoned, "Plus, the sooner you're unpacked, the sooner we can do more fun stuff."
Despite it being said so casually, it was more than enough encouragement for you to put your mind to the task, knowing that the unexpected help of your hot neighbor was way better than the alternative of getting all your moving in duties done by yourself.
It took about two hours to get done with most of your unpacking, combined with putting together the few pieces of furniture you had bought and neglected to build. The last of it was found in your bedroom in the form of a few boxes of skincare and clothing you'd been too lazy to unbox, opting to instead use whatever you needed at the time and leaving the rest unpacked. Jungkook tutted at you disappointingly at this, lightheartedly scolding you for not simply organizing your stuff as soon as you moved in and revealing to you how organized he was himself.
"Is there any box you want me to stay away from?", he wondered as he rummaged through one of the various boxes you'd moved onto your bed to organize.
"Nope, what do you mean?", you wondered, pulling out a hair dryer and placing it in its rightful spot before walking back over to the bed.
"Well, for instance ..." he trailed off, pulling out a tiny piece of lace you'd forgotten was in the box labeled as 'clothes' Jungkook was currently going through. He gave you an awkward smirk, his mind seemingly battling between being smug at the thong in his hands and affected by the thought of you wearing such a garment.
Immediately, your eyes widened, a gasp trapped in your throat before you jumped at him to grab at the lace, only for him to pull it back with a laugh, now holding it above your reach. You continued to pull at him, letting out an annoyed 'Jungkook!' to express your annoyance, but still laughing at how childish he was behaving.
He let you take hold of the thong after a few more slaps to his hard chest, laughing at your frustration. To prevent your further attacks, he grabbed onto your wrists, deciding to hold you against him as you let go of the panties and paid mind to him instead. Far too casually, he leaned down and trapped you in a soft kiss, humming against your lips as his hands wrapped around your waist and your own went to his shoulders. You damned him in your mind, chastising yourself for how easily it was for you to become entranced by his touch.
"You knew what was in there, didn't you? Hmm? Seductress," he joked against your lips, though the tone of his voice didn't make you laugh, especially not when it was said in an airy whisper between open mouthed kisses.
"Shut up," you grumbled, pulling him closer, unwilling to let the kiss end.
With masterful expertise, Jungkook managed to lay you down on the space of the bed empty of boxes, hands going under your shirt to trace the soft skin of your back. His lips trailed down to your neck and reaching down to the space of your chest not covered by your tank top, grumbling against your skin.
"You smell so nice," he sighed, "So fucking soft too," he continued, not shy in feeling your skin and even breathing you in.
Tuned with you, he disconnected from you to eye you for permission to remove your shirt, dragging it away from your body after a nod of confirmation from you and proceeding to remove his own. Your hands imitated his own, also feeling up his toned body as you continued to kiss. Now leaning atop you, he ground his crotch against your own, groaning into your lips at the basic pleasure he received from it.
"How far do you wanna go?", he murmured as he ground into you, "I'll do whatever you want. I owe you, remember?", he continued, referring to your encounter at the laundry room where he promised to fuck you properly next time.
"Do whatever you want," you replied, looping your lips again, "Just- fuck, do anything," you practically pleaded.
Chuckling, he nodded, opting to lay you down properly, moving aside any boxes that were in the way so you could lay all the way back while he trailed his way down your body, tugging down the tiny shorts you'd opted for a few hours earlier. You sighed at the realization of what was to come, ashamed to admit you'd been wondering how that piercing would feel between your legs.
"So soft here too," he mumbled, kissing up your thighs distractedly, making his way up to that area between your legs that was calling his name, "Fuck, 'n smell so good," his nose practically pressed up against the very thin layer of cloth separating him from your cunt, shamelessly breathing you in as he dragged his nose to press into your clit before pulling away.
A mute whine was pulled out of you, making your thighs attempt to close without much thought, only to make his arms wrap around your legs and pull them in opposite directions in order to separate them. He took a quick moment to pull your underwear down your legs, immediately going back to wrap around your legs to keep a wide enough space for him to enjoy you.
He began tentatively, almost as if testing out how he would go about having you. It only took some encouraging mewls from you for him to really put his heart into it, diving in as his tongue delved into your cunt, moaning against you. He hummed and groaned into your cunt, especially so whenever your hands would pull at his overgrown mullet, pulling him even closer to you. Taking advantage of his large nose, he nosed at your clit while his tongue played with your cunt. Your mewls and the scratching against his scalp should've been more than enough indicator that he had you at the palm of his hand.
"Baby," he moaned against you, refusing to create any distance between you, "you taste so good, fuck," he cried out, as if he were the receiver of the pleasure. But then again, maybe he was — or at least that's the gist you got from the commotion happening under you as the bed bumped with every movement of Jungkook's hips humping against it.
"K-kook, fuck, right the- oh, fuck ... right there!", you cried when his fingers joined in on the equation, tongue focused on your clit while his fingers curled inside you to perfection.
It was embarrassing how soon you felt your orgasm approaching, but you didn't blame yourself, not when a 10 was on his knees, whimpering against your cunt and letting endless muffled praise leave his lips while his tongue refused to let out. You lost control of yourself at some point, unashamed in the way you pushed his face against you, closing your thighs around his head and ground into his face. This only caused a high pitched whine to leave Jungkook, following your silent instruction for more and giving in to you twice as hard.
"Cum, baby. Wanna taste, fuck, please," he pleaded, looking up at you for a quick moment, making your brain leave you entirely at the pretty eyes he was making up at you, practically begging for your orgasm to come.
If you were boneless and defeated before, you were more so now, losing yourself to your orgasm as the pretty boy continued to lick and suck at your release, humming as if he had just been provided the most satiating meal. The humping of his hips never stopped either, only accelerating upon your high and only halting when you'd gone down from it, insisting on pulling him up the bed to claim his lips, wanting to enjoy them while the arousal was still fresh on him.
"God, fuck, you're nasty," he chuckled breathlessly when your tongue quite literally attacked his mouth, insistent on tasting yourself on his lips. This was clearly not a complaint, but more like a happy realization, as Jungkook practically reached down your throat as he tongued at your mouth, providing you with your own taste and moaning endlessly as he did so.
"Did you cum?", you asked between kisses, eyebrows pinched with worry that you wouldn't get to play with him this time around either.
He chuckled, a bit embarrassed, "No, pretty. Almost, though. I can just finish myself off if you're tired or-"
"No!" you interrupted, not shy in reaching down to his still clothed cock, feeling the length through his clothed ad he shuddered, "Let me suck you off? Fair trade, right?", you suggested, wanting nothing more than that size inside you one way or another.
"Oh, you sure? I don't want to force you or anything-"
You interrupted again, gesturing at him to flip you over so he could be under you this time around, "No, Kook. Please? I really want it. Can I have it?", you decided to be a bit mean, playing up the begging under the assumption that a guy like Jungkook would probably enjoy it.
You were right.
"O-oh, okay, beautiful," he rasped, hands in a frenzy to undo his sweats so he could give you access to his dick, "Just, fuck, give me a second. I don't wanna cum right away," he blushed, giving you a sweet peck before leading you to your knees while he sat at the edge of the bed.
With an excited giggle, your hands joined his own to help him lower his pants and boxers just enough to give you access to his length — the same one that had dragged against you until completion just a few days prior. His groan at your touch was immediate, body physically shuddering when you wrapped your hand around it and eyed it with hunger. His hands laid on his thighs, fingers itching as he attempted to hold his reactions back.
"Can I?", you asked, leaning closer to it as your hand remained wrapped around it.
"Yes, just, fuck, don't laugh when I cum too soon," he warned with a whine.
Another giggle left you before finally lowering your head down to his own head, lips wrapping around it and suctioning meanly. With a hum, your tongue lightly licked at the tip, earning a mixture of a groan and a sigh from the man north of you. Your hand remained wrapped around his length, twisting while you tortured the tip with your mouth. To ensure you could really drive him crazy, your other hand joined in, playing at his balls and earning yet another sound of supplication from him.
"G-god, fuck, wait- Don't- Fuck, more, baby, please," he begged, hand shyly going to the back of your head to lightly encourage you to engulf him in your mouth.
"Want my mouth?", you asked as you let go of him, though still lightly licking at the sides of his dick, unwilling to stop teasing for as long as you could help it.
"C'mon, baby. I gave you my mouth, just- Oh, fuck, yes," he sighed when you decided to practically down the majority of his dick, enveloping as much as you could while using your hand to jerk off the small percentage of it that couldn't fit into your mouth.
You decided to show off as much as you could, taking him far enough to gag and pushing through it for as long as possible. The whines and whimpers coming from the man above you were more than enough reward for your efforts.
"F-fuck, you don't have to g-gag, baby, shit, don't force yourself," he panted out, barely able to get those words out without effort. This only encouraged you further, puffing out air from your nose in order to obtain as much oxygen as possible. You knew he wad almost at his end, so you used every asset available to you to break him. You took breaks to breathe every so often, but other than that, you were practically a machine attached to his cock.
"Okay, shit, fuck," he stammered out curses, "Gonna cum, pretty, w-where? In your mouth? Please? Fuck, let me cum in your mouth," he rambled while his hands made a mess of your hair as he attempted to keep it away from your face. His hips also began a slow and shy grind against your face — a barely visible movement but still completely present. It represented his lack of control as you blew his mind away, something which went straight to your core.
You nodded, humming against his dick knowing it'd cause a vibration that'd have him keening for his orgasm. And right you were, as his hands shamelessly pushed your head into his cock without a second thought, clearly too overcome with the pleasure of his orgasm to worry about gagging you with his cum. You, however, took it like a champ, reasoning that within some seconds you'd get to breathe properly again.
"G-god, baby, just like that ... C-cumming, shit" he cried, hips still pushing into your mouth. You wished you could see how his whiny demeanor manifested onto his face — those gorgeous features must've looked breathtaking when pleasure was all he felt.
Finally, you gasped out for air after having swallowed as much as you could manage, with some of it dripping past your lips. Jungkook let himself lay back on the bed to catch his breath while you remained on your knees catching yours.
This lasted very little when Jungkook suddenly decided to use his brute strength to drag you up on the bed, sitting your still wet middle on his flaccid self, pulling you in for yet another tongue-filled kiss. He hummed and moaned and whined as he licked every remnant of his essence from your mouth, causing a similar reaction from you.
After the fact, you shuffled yourself off him and made space on the bed to huddle up to his side, which he welcomed by cocooning you under his arm and pulling you flush against him. It was comfortable and silent for a few moments as you continued catching your breaths and letting the sweat on your bodies transpire — you also made a mental note to invite him to take a shower (with you, maybe).
"You moving in next door was not on my bingo card, but thank fucking god for that," he chuckled after a few moments of silence.
"Yeah? You didn't stalk your previous neighbors for a hookup?", you joked, receiving a devious squeeze of his strong arm in retaliation.
"Shut up," he tutted, "You like that I'm like a dog following you around."
Fair enough.
Silence then took over again, up until the two of you were rested enough and decided to get back to the task at hand — putting furniture together and unpacking anything that was left boxed (though you decided to leave any boxes that may contain panties away from his reach).
It was easy for you to fall into fun conversation with Jungkook, which only led to him staying over for far longer than anticipated, taking up your day and even ordering takeout for you to eat after getting all the grunt work out of the way. A shower was had, though you mutually agreed for no funny business (other than a good ten minutes of making out under the water, but that didn't count in your eyes). Since he lived right next door, he managed to extend his visit up until the last minute, entertaining you more than anything had in the past week of moving in.
One month into your new place and you decided the move was probably one of the best decisions you'd ever made. You'd come to find that Jungkook's old neighbor was not the only old lady living in the building, but that the neighborhood was mostly made up of old people (which, granted, Jungkook had warned you of in passing). That gave to a slightly boring home life, but you liked it better this way. Jungkook being your sole young neighbor was more than enough, specially with how often he went out of his way to seek you out.
After those first two hookups, no time for anything else was really had. This made you embarrassingly needy. The anticipation for finally having actual sex with Jungkook was too much too handle, specially when he'd still occasionally bump into you and catch you off guard with a kiss (which usually led to a make-out far too filthy for the public setting). You'd started your new job a week after moving and Jungkook was occupied by some reason or another, meaning that you'd only really see each other in passing. Although you'd text and keep up with each other, the frustration continued to build up.
The third time you were really able to get Jungkook alone was a little over a month after moving in.
You weren't particularly proud of how it is that you got him back in your apartment, but in your defense, you were ovulating that night and feeling particularly needy. Knowing that Jungkook was a bit of an unserious man, you knew that some pull from you and he'd put everything aside to come crawling. The thought itself made you feel powerful.
With a single 'accidental' text (maybe it was a lewd image, you'll never tell), you began to hear obnoxious knocking on your front door — within seconds of delivery, might you add. Excitedly, you walked over to the door, opening it to find a breathless Jungkook holding up his phone with your conversation pulled up, the incriminating picture taking up his screen.
"You're so mean to me," he managed to say before you pulled him in with a kiss, kicking the door behind you and turning around so he could press you up against the now closed door.
"Mean? I didn't do anything," you feigned between kisses, already lightheaded.
"I've been wanting to come over," he sighed into your lips, trailing down to your neck to catch his breath, "Just been so busy, fuck. If you wanted me so bad, you could've just come visit. I'd drop anything to have you," he continued, unable to unglue his lips from your skin. His hands mirrored his sentiment, grabbing at every curve with a desperation you hadn't seen from him before.
"I thought you were the one that was supposed to be chasing after me?", you joked with a breathless chuckle.
"Sometimes I need a little encouragement, baby. Need to know I'm not just bugging you," he replied as he undressed you almost as if it were second nature to him.
Walking you back into what he knew to be your room, he laid you down, now donning nothing but your panties. He soon after matched your nudity, stripping of his muscle tee and sweats, making his way on top of you as he'd done last time.
"Will you be mad if I fuck you?", he rasped, one hand at your boobs and another rubbing at your cunt through the thin layer covering it.
"You're an idiot," you deadpanned, "I'll be mad if you don't."
Needing no further confirmation, his hand slipped past your panties, rubbing circles on the puffiness of your clit while continuing to kiss you. This didn't last for long, simply being used as an aid to lubricate you with your own wetness as his fingers reached a little souther to smear your slick around while his thumb continued to play with the swollen bud.
Already unclothed, Jungkook took his hand away from you, resulting in a whine from your lips to his and moving his hand onto his own arousal. Jerking himself a few times, he stopped kissing you in favor of leaning back to look down at you while twisting his fist on his dick. After quickly fishing for a condom from his discarded pants, he went back to his previous position, rolling it in while you nagged at him to hurry.
Before actually entering you, of course he had to piss you off one last time by teasing your clit with the tip of his cock, groaning when he felt you flutter beneath him. One kick from you was enough for him to chuckle and finally enter you, groaning in unison with you at the feeling.
"Jesus Christ," you groaned when you felt him begin bottoming out, inch by inch filling you up enough to cause an unknown level of pleasurable pain. You hadn't stopped to think what that size would feel like inside you — or at least as much as he was able to get in.
Above you, Jungkook looked tortured, still and with a wincing look on his face as he waited for the green light to begin moving in and out of you. It took you a few moments longer, nimble fingers digging into the muscles of his arms before you finally nodded at him to move.
"Fuck," he groaned upon finally beginning to pick up a pace, biting his lip and his eyes almost rolled back.
"More," you urged, falling in love with the feeling of him immediately.
Your eyes were crossed, your fingers digging far too painfully into his skin, your legs wrapped around him like a vice, everything was far too intense far too quickly. He obeyed your plea immediately, making matters worse for you, having already been blowing your mind prior but now simply melting it.
"How do you feel this good?", he grunted. His arms reached your thighs, pulling you up a bit to hammer into you at a better angle, "Should've fucked you since that first day, shit. How'd I get such a pretty- fuck, such a pretty girl delivered right to my door?", he went on, sweat building on his skin.
The slapping of skin sped up with the proximity of Jungkook's orgasm, just as yours followed along. His hands were restless, attempting to hold you up while also thirsty to feel every possible inch of your body.
"Please tell me you're close, or else this is going to be really embarrassing for me," he muttered onto your skin.
With a chuckle, you confirmed your incoming high, whining when he finally let himself go and sped up in order to reach his own orgasm, now more relaxed knowing you were right with him.
He let out some uncharacteristically high moans as he filled up the condom, groaning and stilling once he was finally done. You joined him mere seconds later, arching your back and pressing your chest against his own as bliss encompassed you. Despite the sticky sweat covering you both, Jungkook let himself fall against you, pulling out and placing the condom aside momentarily so he could lay beside you while you caught your breath.
In the almost silent room, Jungkook nuzzled against you and kissed the sweaty skin he could reach, hands playing with your hair as he pressed you up against him.
"Would it be bad if I asked you out? Or should I have done that before seducing you in the laundry room?", he wondered out loud, leaving love bites on your neck.
You laughed at how random he could be, appreciating how he spoke his thoughts aloud most of the time, "You can ask me out, I won't bite. Unlike some people," you muttered the last part, giggling when he gave you a slightly harsher bite.
"You like it, don't lie," he muttered, suddenly getting up and dragging you with him despite your whine in negation, "C'mon, we're going to take a shower, have a quickie, and then I'm taking you out for some boba," he decided, using his inhuman strength to pull you up and drag you to your restroom.
"But-"
"C'mon, I've been wanting to ask you out since you moved in, I'm already late," he hushed you, carrying your basically limp body to the restroom with the promise of a fun night, something you did not have it in you (nor did you want to) deny.
to read short 1.6k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my jk monthly tier on patreon!
content: smut, afab reader, oral (f receiving), etc.
wc: 433 (teaser); 1619 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
"Are you ever going back to your apartment?", you murmured, though it was likely muffled by the large body wrapped around you.
"What, already tired of me?", asked Jungkook as he continued to nose at your skin, a habit you realized he had soon after making things official. He had a sensitive nose, he'd said once, always enjoying the cosmetic products that gave you that floral scent he adored.
After a month of officially dating, Jungkook had become the human manifestation of a leech. It was rare for him to leave tour side whenever you so happened to have free time and would take advantage of the proximity between your apartments.
Being frank, this was something you loved about him. Still in the honeymoon phase, there was nothing better than getting to see your boyfriend at any given time, especially when he was the one seeking you out. He made you feel wanted and like you were a necessity for him, almost as if he had an addiction to you.
That being said, the man just would not leave your apartment.
Now, this wasn't too much of a bother thus far. You liked it, in fact (at least for the most part). He was quite clean while also being laid back, which was a great combination to have in a person who was practically taking on the role of your roommate.
He did, however, prove to become a distraction when it came to your day to day life. You allowed yourself to indulge in his company too much, leading to a huge drop in your productivity.
But what could you do? He was addictive.
"You love having me around, don't lie to yourself," he continued, "What, tired of waking up to head?", he joked, hands making their way under your shirt to cheekily trace your skin.
"Waking up to head?," you asked incredulously, "You woke me up by tickling me, you menace."
He chuckled, adjusting himself on the bed so he could climb on top of you, knees settled on each side of you and hands slowly bringing your top up.
"Okay, fine. Maybe I've been a bad guest. Let me make it up to you?", he grinned, snaking his way down your body until his head was leveled with your stomach, kissing the skin he'd freed just moments prior.
"Better make it worth my while or else I'll start charging you rent for every hour you spend in here."
"I'll move in. Don't threaten me with a good time," he joked, knowing most of his time was spent here with you regardless.
...
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#jungkook imagine#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#jungkook scenario#jungkook x reader#bts imagine#bts imagines#bts scenario#bts fanfic#bts x reader#bts smut
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↳ whoops! ↳ sae itoshi x fem!reader ↳ sfw ↳ jealousy, language, kind of a creepy dude, subtle allusions to fwb, my writing
↳ sae itoshi… the man you are… this idea literally smacked me in the face so i opted to ignore my 7+ drafts and whip it up :P thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoy! <3

“… oh, and did i tell you about my time with atlético madrid? boy, the sheer amount of sprained ankles i had to deal with…”
you barely suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. how long had this dude been prattling on? you know he’d told you his name, and something about being a retired physical therapist, but truthfully, that was all the information you had retained since he started talking to you. seriously, you just wanted to watch the damn game.
“that’s fascinating.” you cut him off, eyes trained on the bodies undulating across the field. well, more specifically, trained on one body…
“… and sae takes complete control of the midfield! look at him go, he’s unstoppable!”
your heart fluttered inside your chest and your gut heated as some rather lewd memories crept their way into your central vortex. you hadn’t even known locker rooms could be so… enticing before your hookup with sae.
you’d been so focused on watching sae in his element (and daydreaming) that you hadn’t even noticed when the man scooted closer to you — at least not until you felt the heat of his thigh smushed against yours, made much more noticeable by the chilly bite of october.
you snapped your eyes to the man to glare at him — he continued to drone on about something as if he hadn’t just invaded your personal bubble. you huffed and slid your ass down the bench, disconnecting his thigh from yours. your skin was starting to crawl, and where the dude had once been perceived as annoying he now was coming off as creepy.
you hoped that your disinterest in the conversation and your very obvious attempt at putting distance between the two of you would spell out your rejection to him — but it clearly didn’t, or maybe he just wasn’t speaking the same language as you, because he simply closed the distance once more.
“what about some coffee? would you want to go grab coffee with me some time?”
you were just about to open your lips to verbalize your rejection (and tell him off for his clear disrespect) when the words were stolen right from your mouth — by the sudden impact of a ball right to the side of the man’s face.
you couldn’t stop the shocked gasp that ripped through your throat as the man fell backwards off the bench with a yell of pain. you could just see some crimson splatters atop the silver of the metal stands, and for a moment, your brain completely stopped.
“and sae itoshi sends a ball flying straight into the stands! like a rocket it split through the air — oh my god, is that man okay?!”
the announcer’s sudden exclamation had you immediately whipping your attention to the field, eyes connecting with sae’s almost instantly. he stood tall on the field, one hand atop a cocked hip, and with a shrug he mouthed one word;
“whoops.”

do i really believe sae would send a ball straight into the face of anyone who gets too gutsy with his girl? yes. yes i do. thank you so much for reading, and any likes, comments or reblogs are not required but are so very appreciated!
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the fine and subtle art of arguing with old men
it was a good week for testing which meant it was a slow week for me. most of my job is fixing the machine when it goes down. if it doesn't go down, i don't have much to do.
fortunately neither did marc. in a site full of ornery old bastards, he's the oldest and the orneriest, so it goes without saying that i enjoy spending time with him. he reminds me of my grandpa. hell, he reminds me of a lot of people. i've befriended enough grumpy old men that i've got a sort of momentum to it now - you know how it is, when you meet someone that reminds you of someone else you really like. you get to start that friendship off half built, because you already have an idea of how to like that guy, and some of that old warmth can be brought to the new friendship. a little ember to start the stove up with.
(i think that's one of the really undersold beauties of getting older. you stop viewing people as strangers and more like remixes of friends.)
anyway, i was sitting next to marc and we were talking about the future. i've got my eye on having kids sometime soon (year or two? hopefully?), and he's very happy for me. i've tried asking him for advice, but all he says is that he didn't do a great job with his own kids and they still turned out okay, so i should stress less and trust myself more. i hope he's right. he believes it, at least, and it's a hell of a thing to have the faith of an old man. his faith is hard won.
as for his plans, he's retiring at some point in the next six months, and is hoping to sell his home and buy something in florida. he's republican, so he views the state as paradise, and i'm not inclined to even try talking him out of it. it's his dream, you know? i know for a fact my paradise would be a lot of people's hell. life's funny like that.
still, we kept going on, and it was a good time, and then he reminisced about the last time he got close to quitting - back around 2020. our job required getting vaxxed, and he refused, and there was a big kerfuffle about it before the job actually backed down. i know there's not a lot of sympathy for the unvaxxed out here, but the man's 62. you get the shot when you're under 30 to protect the people around you, but when you're over 60, you're just getting it to protect yourself and it's hard to be mad at someone for kicking their own ass.
still gave me pause though. i knew he wasn't going to take it well, but half the job of collecting curmudgeons is keeping them around, so i said
hey. i'm sorry they bent your arm over it, but.
but.
you should really get that shot.
and he looked over at me, and i looked at him, and he actually spat. not on me, just the concrete, but it was enough to show that he was mad. then he walked away, as abrupt as anything.
i felt bad about it. i wasn't sure what i'd expected, when he was willing to lose his job over it before, but i'd been so invested in his dream of retirement - the idea of him sipping margaritias on a beach next to his wife, the wife he calls every day during lunch, the wife he says is the one thing in life he ever got right on the first try. the wife that almost divorced him back when he was in the airforce because he just wasn't home enough.
(but he can be home now.)
and then he mentioned the vax thing, and it was like seeing a pin hit a balloon. he works out every day and takes all sorts of crazy vitamins and is generally committed to getting the most out of his pension and his life. i didn't want this dumb weak point to be his achilles heel.
---
i wasn't actually sure how long marc would be mad at me. i've seen him stay mad at some people for weeks. i wasn't sure if being friends would make that time go up or down.
it went down. i'm glad it went down.
he stopped being mad about two days later. we were doing front end maintenance one morning, and it was just that simple mechanical rhythm - hex key, replace the anode sheets, punch some off-gassing holes, oil it up, put it back in - that put things at ease. it always does. people working there are too busy to remember grudges, and it has this sort of mandatory practical communication that helps smooth things over. it was going great, and then out of the blue he said babs, you gotta be careful giving advice. those shots come with complications. what would you do if i got that shot, had a stroke, and died?
and i don't know what answer he was expecting, but i just told him the truth, which is that i would be devastated. i'd feel like i killed him. i thought that was a pretty normal response, but he looked taken aback. he asked why i said it then, and i said i'd have felt the same if he died of covid. that's just life. sometimes, there's no way forward that doesn't risk some kind of regret.
we finished the tube after that, in a silence that felt heavier than peace but lighter than anger. it felt like the ball was back in marc's court. like it would be rude to take that turn from him.
we parted ways with a nod and didn't speak until the next day.
---
i was doing spreadsheet work when he found me again. standard paper engineering - thinking of things we might need and ordering them in batches, months ahead of time. it always feels a little like plugging holes in a dam with my fingers.
but he popped up, and we didn't even exchange pleasantries. he just said i'm gonna die one day, and you can't blame yourself for that.
which is a hell of a thing to just tell someone right off the bat.
so i said what
and he said babs, i am in my 60s. something is gonna get me eventually, and whether it's covid or heart disease, or a stroke, there will be something you could have said or done before. and that's okay. it's not your job to make me live forever.
and you know, he actually made a lot of sense. so i said
okay.
i'll keep your business yours. i just
you were talking about your retirement before this. and i want that for you very much. you've worked hard for 45 years, and you deserve a break. we're getting to sick season, and it would be the saddest fucking thing in the world if you got this close to winning the race then tripped in the last ten feet.
and we sat there a few moments longer. i wasn't sure what to say, and i wasn't sure what he'd say, but eventually he just shrugged and said
yeah
then he left. i figured that would be the end of it.
---
i did front end maintenance yesterday, after being gone a week. it's one of my favorite things to do. i like working with my hands. i really like working with my hands. i'm glad i went to college, but in a different life, i think i could've made a better electrician than an electrical engineer.
and at one step, when we were both hoisting the plate back onto the machine, his sleeve rode up, and i saw two bandaids on his arm.
we finished the install, and i was ready to go back when marc actually stopped me.
i got the shot, he said, almost embarrassed. like he'd been caught. and i knew he was gonna say something dumb about it, so i just cut him off by giving him a hug.
i was relieved. hugging old men is kind of like picking up cats. if they like you a lot, they'll tolerate it, but that's about it. we sat there maybe three beats before his hands went up, and then he gave me one overly-hard thump on the back. in my experience, this is how old men tell you that they're done, so i let him go.
carla talked me into it, he said, almost defensive. his wife. his one good decision.
tell her i said thanks, i said back.
trump got the shot too, he said, less defensive, but oddly pleading. like he was consoling himself.
like he was nervous.
then it's gotta be safe, i said, and he looked up at me, strangely searching, strangely vulnerable. i don't know exactly what he was looking for, but i guess he found it because after a few moments his shoulders relaxed.
yeah, he said, one hand on the back of his head.
it's gotta be.
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tw ranting in the tags!
#so i saw my dad today for the first time since just before xmas (or june when he sat in his car outside my house and we spoke for 10 mins)#i was hoping it would just be him but he came with his girlfriend#well now fiance bc he opened with the news of their engagement#n then followed up with the news of his brain tumor#and apparently its not looking good for him in the long run#and im really sad bc obviously hes my dad and i love him#but also bc hes prioritising his new fiance and her family n his sister n her kids n not me :(#like he talked about his plans for moving forward and enjoying his time now hes retired#but none of it seemed to invplve me#like hes always talking about her kids and sayi g everyone wants to meet me but whenever i ask to go up theyre too busy :?#im sad and crying rn
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Kinktober Day 31 - Free Use
Poly 141 x Reader - 4.3k (on ao3)
summary: Glimpses into your life as a housewife and free use toy for the 141 post-retirement. (Reader POV, second person)
cw: soft sex, half-drunk sex, light somnophilia, anal sex
note: last kinktober of the month! sorry i got off by a day at the end here, but i hope you guys have enjoyed everything so far :) btw this is less "free use" and more "sex with the 141 while living in domestic bliss"
Your days are filled with sex. Sex with all of your boys, in every position you can think of, in every room of the house they’d bought for the five of you after retiring.
You all split the chores evenly these days. No one does more than they’re more comfortable with, and you’ve all found your stride, something to give you purpose, after the rigidity of the military.
Gaz has taken to bee-keeping. As odd as it sounds, he’s got the patience for it, and he’s quite protective of his bees, even has nearly an entire library of books he’s taught himself with. Price helps him out by selling the honey he harvests, keeping track of his profits and managing the household’s finances.
Ghost hunts, spends his days out finding game to bring home, tracking herds and predators around your property. Johnny does a little of everything - fixes things when they break, chops firewood every morning, helps Simon skin his prey, tries to help Gaz and his bees.
And you take care of the house. You make the meals, clean up after everyone, and find yourself perfectly happy to keep your men fed and warm.
Your other chore is to bend over whenever they want. Well, bend into any position whenever they want, Ghost and Soap tend to enjoy getting a bit more creative. It’s not really much of a chore, considering how eager you are to do it.
It’s a great deal for you. Johnny and Kyle are always eager to get you off, and neither Simon nor Price is stingy with the orgasms these days either. You live your life floating between domestic labor and orgasms - not a bad existence, by your metric. You get to live without a care in the world, four men to take care of and four men to take care of you. It’s like a dream come true.
———————————————————————
You hum to yourself as you dance around the kitchen, wearing nothing but a frilly apron as you wait for your pancakes to cook. The small radio on the dining room table plays music from a local radio station, something cheery to start your day. It’s hard not to smile, with sunshine pouring in from the windows and a batch of fresh eggs to scramble on the stove.
Your small moment of bliss is interrupted by a pair of hands on your hips and a large body bracketing yours.
There isn’t even a moment of fear, you instinctually lean back into the man behind you. A moment later, a rough beard brushes over your cheek.
“Pancakes this mornin’?” Price asks, big paws resting on the softness of your hips.
“Hmm,” you hum, tilting your head to claim his lips. He sways the two of you back and forth slowly, to the beat of the song, and lets you take your time with him. “Blueberries in yours,” you tell him when you come up for a breath of air.
One hand shifts to your ass, the other to your stomach, and you feel him smile. “Thank you, love. Got time for a quick round before they burn?”
You mimic his smile, let him bend you over slowly. “You’re just in time, Captain, I haven’t cracked the eggs yet.”
“Perfect,” he purrs, pressing himself to your backside. He tucks his plaid pajama pants down a little, rubbing his warm morning wood against you. You fold your arms beneath your head, let your eyes drift closed as his fingers make quick work of getting you ready.
Moments later, the heavy length of his cock fills you slowly. You moan, shifting your legs a little bit wider as he massages your waist.
“There you go,” he sighs, bottoming out and grinding himself slowly inside of you. “Tight as always, perfect girl.”
You giggle a little drowsily, wiggling your hips against his. “Always for you, John.”
He sighs contentedly, pulling out slowly. “Don’t I know it.”
He fucks you slowly, a steady pace that drags against all your most sensitive parts on every thrust. John’s thick, and the stretch isn’t quite comfortable with no prep. But you’re still a little loose from your time with Soap and Gaz last night, so it’s far from painful to take him.
He hunches over you as he gets closer and closer to the edge, elbows resting on either side of you and breath ghosting across your nape.
“Aw,” you hear Soap say,voice rough from sleep as he steps into the kitchen. “I wanted first go today.”
“Early bird gets the worm, Johnny,” Gaz teases, settling into a chair in the little breakfast nook Simon had built soon after moving in. “You’re the one who stayed up so late with her last night.”
“Wasn’t just me, jackass, you’re the one who-”
“Boys,” Price grunts, hips slamming against yours, leaving you squirming beneath him. “Will you shut the fuck up while I’m balls deep in our girl?”
You can’t help but snort beneath him, pushing yourself up enough to arch your back further, stick your ass further out for him. “Ye-yeah, boys.”
“Hush,” Price scolds, one hand shifting to your neck where he forces you flat to the counter again. “‘M almost there…”
He groans lowly as he buries himself deep inside of you, pumping slowly as you tighten up, trying to milk him. “Fuck, feels good…”
You smile against your arms as the pleasure that had been building inside of you starts to dull to a simmer, something warm in the root of you.
Price pulls out only moments later, two thick fingers tucking into you to keep any of his come from dripping out. “Keep me safe inside you, pretty thing, c’mon. Clench down.”
You take a deep breath and try your best to listen, straightening up and doing your best to keep yourself from dripping down your thighs.
He turns you around, leaning you back against the counter and cupping your cheeks in his hands, tugging your face up to give you a soft kiss. “Thank you,” he whispers into your mouth, just quiet enough for you to hear.
“Of course.” You reach up to grab his wrists, holding him close. “Never gonna say no to you, John.”
The two of you linger in the moment, sunlight warming your skin as you breathe into each other.
It’s Soap that interrupts you, an intentionally obnoxious clearing of his throat nearly making you jump. “Any chance at coffee sometime today, bonnie?”
You huff a laugh into Price’s mouth, pushing him away and shooting a half-playful look to Johnny. “Can’t give me a minute of peace, can you?”
He smirks, “Nope.”
John scoffs as he pulls away, moving you with him and giving you a quick tap to the ass to send you over to the counter with the coffee machine. “Someone’s gotta teach you some patience, MacTavish.”
“If Ghost still hasn’t gotten it into him, no one is,” Gaz laughs, shifting enough for Price to join him on the bench.
“Who says I haven’t?” Ghost says, stepping from the hallway. He’s already got a cigarette lit between his lips, and you wave him away with a spatula.
“No!” You scold, trying to shoo him closer to the window. “No smoking in my house! You know I hate the smell.”
Ghost rolls his eyes good-naturedly but lets you herd him to the open window, resting a shoulder on the windowsill and blowing a mouthful of air. You hmph, satisfied, and move to flip the pancakes. “You’re not the one who has to get that smoke out of all the furniture, you know.”
Ghost sighs, but he’s dramatic enough about it for you to know that he’s intentionally exaggerating his annoyance. “Awful early for all that nagging, woman.”
You glare at him playfully, picking up an egg to crack. “Awful early for a cig, too.”
He huffs and you crack your egg, the kitchen shifting into a comfortable silence. You continue your humming as the song changes to something more upbeat, unable to keep a smile from your face.
———————————————————————
You’re half tipsy, giggling into Soap’s mouth as the two of you stumble into the house. You manage to trip over the lip of the entrance, and you yelp as you start to fall.
Johnny just barely manages to twist and catch the both of you in time, grunting loudly as he hits the ground. The breath is knocked from the both of you, and you lay there in the dark for a moment, still.
You’re giggling as soon as you can breathe again, unable to stay still with all the energy and wiggling against his chest. “Jo-Johnny!”
“What?” He pants, still not fully able to take a breath in. You can see the outline of a smile, though, and his hands come up to fully cup your ass. “You were the one taht tripped, lass!”
That only makes you laugh harder, kicking your feet against his shins. “I-I know!”
Now he laughs, a full-bellied sound that has you bouncing on his chest. He manages to push himself up so that you’re in his lap, and presses his mouth to yours without warning.
You make a high sound of surprise but quickly kiss him back, licking into his mouth when he parts his lips.
Your kiss is messy, both of you a little too drunk and a little too needy to bother for tact. Johnny’s softer than he usually is, all tongue and no teeth. You wrap your arms around his neck, shifting so your knees rest on either side of him and squeeze his hips.
“Need you,” he pants into your mouth, shifting you over him to start a slow grind. “Need to be inside you, bonnie.”
“Yeah, please,” you say, quickly dropping your hands to his belt and clumsily working at his belt. It takes several tries for you to get it undone, and both of you get more and more desperate. Your underwear get more and more damp as you work yourself over the rough denim of his jeans, your skirt rucked up around your hips as he palms at your ass.
“Come on,” he growls, landing a harsh slap against the meat of your thigh. You yelp at the sting, then giggle, and finally manage to get his belt loose, quickly tugging it off.
“There you go,” you mumble, throwing the belt to the side and hearing it slide against the hardwood. “C’mon, c’mon, need you now, Johnny.”
He nearly snarls into your mouth, jerking your panties to the side and stuffing two fingers into you with no warning. You jolt higher on your knees and moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.
“Sit still,” he growls, tugging you back down and scissoring his fingers quickly to spread you. He slips a third finger in easily, your cunt already slick and dripping for him. “Stop fuckin’- stop wigglin’ around.”
You can’t help but giggle again, pushing your smile against his lips and nipping at his chin. “Can’t hold me down, MacTavish?”
You feel him grin, growling playfully, and before you can keep prodding him he’s got you flipped onto the floor beneath him. You squeal when he somehow manages to keep his fingers inside of you, pushing deep as he pins you down. He tucks your knees higher, both of your legs resting on his shoulders.
“I’ll show you held down, lass,” he growls, smile just barely visible above you. “Want it rough, then?”
You bite back another laugh, pushing up just enough to bite his bottom lip and tug it down with you. “As rough as you’ve got, MacTavish.”
It works as the perfect taunt you’d meant it as, and he’s buried in your tight heat before you can try and push him any further. Your head falls back against the hardwood floor as his falls to your throat, both of you moaning loudly as his hips meet your thighs.
“Fuck,” he groans, teeth pressed against your throat. When you arch your neck even further, he bites into your flesh, sucking a hicky and making you ever wetter between the thighs. “Fuck.”
“She tight, Johnny?”
You both yelp at the sudden voice, Johnny jolting away from your neck and shifting inside of you, causing you both to melt again.
There, in the corner of the room, is Ghost. He’s smoking a cigarette by the window, illuminated only by the glow of his cigarette butt and the moon. You can’t quite see his expression, but you can just imagine the cocky smirk.
Johnny groans above you, sinking back down to press kisses along your throat and forcing your knees almost to the side of your head. “Scared the shit outta’ me, Ghost,” he sighs, pulling out just enough to give you a few tiny thrusts. You moan, letting yourself relax into the floor.
“Not surprised,” Ghost says, and you watch as he stubs out the cigarette and take a few steps to where the two of you are tangled in each other. “How much did you two have to drink?”
You laugh at the question, but it melts into a moan as Johnny starts to find a rhythm that works for both of you. Your knees nearly knock against your own face as he makes his way across your neck, leaving bruising kisses.
“Not-” you choke a bit on a particularly rough thrust, just barely managing to keep your eyes open and watch as Simon settles into an armchair. “Not that much.”
“Yeah,” Johnny pants, lifting himself up enough to look down at you. “How-how much’ve you had, L.t.?”
Ghost snorts, taking a swig from a beer bottle you hadn’t noticed before. “Less’n you two, I can tell that much.”
You and Johnny both snicker, half out of breath already, but none of you try and keep speaking as Johnny starts to really fuck into you, finding a perfect rhythm that’s just a little messier than usual, a little jerkier.
The two of you make no attempt to be quiet, moaning and whining loudly as you work to find that peak. Even with folded in half as you are, you try to push into him as much as you can to help him hit the perfect spot inside of you.
You nearly scream when he does, clenching down so tightly onto him that he’s forced to a still inside of you, his length throbbing in time with your heartbeat.
The world blurs around you as Johnny takes your lips again, pressing your tongues together in a slick slide as he batters inside of you.
“Clo-close,” you gasp, clawing down his shoulders. Your nails dig in enough through his shirt to have him moaning, arching further into your touch.
“Me too, bonnie.”
He shifts enough to lean his weight further onto your thighs, newly freed hand smoothing down your chest and stomach to work against your clit. You melt beneath him, muscles going loose as you turn into nothing but a limp doll for him to fuck.
Your eyes squeeze shut as your orgasm starts to overcome you, Johnny’s work against your clit and the hot length inside of you finally shoving you over the edge.
“Fuck- fuck!” Johnny nearly shouts above you, your orgasm triggering his own. You cling tight to him, dragging his body as close to you as possible while your muscles clench down around him. The two of you are nearly drooling in each other’s mouths, eager for as much physical touch as possible.
It feels like an impossible amount of time later when you hear Ghost crouch down next to you, see his shadow cast over both you and Johnny. “You two done, then?”
You feel Johnny huff where he’s leaned against your cheek, feel his smile grow against yours.
“Yeah, Si,” you say, squirming a bit beneath Johnny to try and get out from under him. “I think we’re done.”
Johnny gans a little but he obliges and shifts back enough for his softened cock to pull out of you. You both whine in sync at the separation, and he finally lets your legs fall to the ground, heels thudding against the floor.
Johnny rolls off of you, flopping to the floor next to you. “Carry us to bed, L.t.”
You giggle and blink up at Simon, softened from your orgasm and the lingering buzz from your night out. “Yeah, L.t.,” you lift your arms high, making grabby hands like a toddler. “Carry us to bed.”
Ghost snorts above you, but he still leans down and scoops you up beneath the knees and the back. You squeal when he hefts you over his shoulder into a fireman's carry. He ducks low again and you grasp onto the bottom of his sweatshirt, then giggle when Johnny flops bonelessly over Ghost’s other shoulder.
He carries the two of you effortlessly down the hall, and Johnny’s soft laugh joins yours - well, at least before you hear a muffled slap and he quiets himself/ Of course that only makes you laugh, earning you a spank of your own.
You’re dropped rather carelessly onto the massive mattress all five of you share these days, hand flopping against what you’re sure is Price’s chest as Ghost falls on top of Johnny where he’s dropped.
You hear a muffled oof! from next to you and curl into Price with a smile, tucking yourself close to his chest. He rumbles a low noise, instinctually tucking you close. You can hear Gaz getting annoyed with Ghost and Soap, feel him kicking at them to fight for his own spot on the mattress. You fall asleep with Ghost’s back to yours and Price’s chest to yours, surrounded by warmth.
———————————————————————
You groan into the sheets in frustration, fists clenched tight. “Simon, come on, please.”
He spanks you sharply, but the pain is hardly noticeable compared to the need you’re drowning in.
“Quiet,” he grunts, three fingers spreading your ass. “Need to stretch you out properly, don’t want any tears.”
You whine, arching your back and pushing your ass further into the air. “I’m ready, I promise, just need you inside. I’ve been stretched for the last ten minutes!”
“And you’ll get stretched for ten more if you don’t quit complaining.”
It’s almost impossible to bite back a complaint at that, but you manage to dull it down to just a near-painful eye roll. You try your best to stay still for him, stay patient, even as you feel like your pussy is dripping like a faucet.
Ghost has fucked you with far less prep than this, you know he’s just trying to be an asshole - no pun intended. You also know that the more you rush him, the slower he’ll go. So you force yourself a little looser, let your body sink more comfortably into the position he’s got you in.
It doesn’t make the wait any easier.
You’re not sure how long it’s really been when he finally deems you stretched enough, but he finally pulls his fingers free. You whimper at the cold dribble of lube as he spreads a bit more across your stretched hole, the slick sounds echoing in the room telling you he’s likely spreading it across himself too.
“Alright, love,” he says, notching himself at your back hole with both hands on your hips. “Loosen up for me now.”
The stretch is sinful as he finally gives you his cock, enough for you to feel the sting but not at a painful point. Your eyes roll back in pleasure instead of frustration, and your knees shift just a little wider to welcome him more fully into your body.
“Fuck, you feel good<’ he grunts, grip tightening on your hip.
On a normal night with Ghost, you’d expect minimal prep and long rounds of edging. He likes to keep you from coming for as long as possible, then coax an orgasm that feels earthshattering from you when he finally shoves you off that ledge. Either that, or he fucks you quick and dirty - in the yard outside, in the shower, in the middle of the night, really any time he feels like getting off. With you around, there’s no need to masturbate. That leaves you getting bent over and used at any time he feels the slightest urge to get off, but you couldn’t mind less.
Now, though, Ghost paces himself far more slowly than usual. His thrusts are long, bottoming out and pulling back until the head of his cock just barely breaches your hole. If you couldn’t feel the way his hands bruise your hips, you’d almost call his pace leisurely.
The two of you are near silent as he fucks you, content to fill the air with soft moans and the occasional whine instead of dirty talk. It feels nice, such slow sex with Simon. It’s a side of him he rarely lets you see, even now.
He knows you can’t come from anal alone, and is feeling generous enough to grab one of your hands and shift it down, telling you, “Rub your clit for me, love. Wanna feel you come.”
And, well, who are you to disobey?
You bring yourself to a slow, rolling orgasm with rhythmic circles against your clit, hips working against his even with his grip. You moan more loudly now, moith open and spit spreading across the pillow.
“Si-Simon,” you gasp. “Feels so good, so deep.”
“Yeah? Deep in your ass, huh, love?”
“Mhmm, mhmm. Can hardly br-breathe around you, Si.”
“I know, so big in your little hole. You’re taking me well, though, being such a good girl for me. Gonna - fuck, love - gonna make me come, give you a nice load then plug you up.”
“Yes, yes…”
“You want that? Want to be stuffed with my come? Keep me inside of you ‘til I say you can take the plug out?”
“Yes, I’ll keep it in for you, Si, be so good for you.”
“Oh, I know it, love. Always a good girl for me, most perfect girl… fuck, feel so good around me…”
He groans when he finally gets himself off, pulling you back onto his harsher thrusts and letting your channel squeeze the come from him. You rub your clit a few more times, ignoring the aftershocks in favor of forcing your muscles to milk him a bit.
When he finally pulls out, he tucks a good-sized plug into your loosened hole before any of his come can slip out. You shift from your knees to your stomach with a soft hum, tugging a pillow into your arms as your eyes drift shut.
“You stayin’ in here for a bit?” Ghost asks, brushing some of your hair away from your face and dipping down to press a dry kiss to your cheek.
“Hmm. Gonna take a nap before dinner.”
“Alright. Need any help tonight?”
“No,” you hum, curling deeper into the bedding. “You can set the table, if you really want.”
You hear him laugh as he pulls away, weight shifting off of the mattress. “I’ll leave that to Johnny, I think.”
A few moments later the door click softly shut behind him, and you float into a peaceful slumber while trying to half-plan dinner.
———————————————————————
You’re half-asleep when you feel someone shift in bed next to you, their body covering yours. There’s a distinct hardness against the small of your back, and you press back against him.
“Stay still,” you hear Gaz whisper in your ear as he urges you further onto your stomach. You hum a little in response as he settles over you, kneeing your thighs apart enough for him to rest between them. “Don’t wanna wake anyone else up, right sweetheart?”
You hum again in what’s probably supposed to be agreement, but is really just a half-asleep sound. You trust all your boys, though, so you’re perfectly content to let Kyle do whatever he wants.
You sleep naked these days, so it’s easy for him to spread your cheeks a bit, to rub at your folds. You’re still a little damp from the shower sex with Price you’d had right before bed, and Kyle doesn’t seem to think you need much more than that.
You’re almost asleep again when you feel the tip of his cock at your hole, and then the familiar weight of him entering you. It’s hard not to groan, especially when you’re so dazed, but you think you do a good job.
Well, until Kyle shushes you loudly, stuffing a few of his fingers into your mouth.
You make a small offended noise, but it shifts into a sound of pleasure when he sinks fully inside of you.
“Hush. Don’t wanna share you right now, just needed to feel you for a bit.”
You feel his hips shift against yours before he sort of falls to the side, taking you with him. You’re left spooning him, his cock buried deep inside of you and kept warm by your body.
He sighs, pleased, against your back and pulls his fingers from your mouth, letting his hand float down to rest on one of your breasts. He squeezes you for a few moments, but that only works you up more and has you squirming against him.
Kyle makes a small, whining noise and squeezes you more tightly to him. “Stay still, love. Just want to hold you, let you hold me. Go back to sleep, yeah?”
You sigh, debate trying to get him to finish what he started, but ultimately decide that it sounds like far too much work for your current state.
So instead you let yourself relax into Gaz, body quickly adjusting to the weight and stretch of him. It’s easier than you might’ve thought to doze off like that, held close to Kyle’s chest.
#fun fact: this is completely unedited! anyway - yall ready for these tags?#kinktober#kinktober 2023#kinktober day 31#cod fanfic#call of duty fanfic#john price x reader#john price#price x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost riley x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#johnny soap mactavish x reader#johnny mactavish x reader#poly 141 x reader#141 x reader#is that all? did i do it right? IDK!#oh wait#bo writes#kyle garrick x reader#now that we're at the ends of the tags can i confess that i kinda hate this?
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Silent Vengeance / Lee Myung-gi
summarize: Who would have thought that a man who sees himself as powerful could be reduced to selfishness by obsession, only for a knight in armor to heal a broken heart?
English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any grammatical errors, but I really hope you enjoy it! based on s2 squid game so spoilers ahead!
Thanos’s pride and the attention he commanded among the crowd stirred bitterness in some of the contestants—yours included. It baffled many that a retired rapper would stoop to participate in such brutal games, especially one that involved splashes of blood staining his clothes.
It wasn’t until after the Green Light, Red Light game that his focus shifted. He noticed a particular figure—a silhouette that intrigued him more than he cared to admit. The way you sprinted with precision, timing each step perfectly to freeze at the exact moment, or how you yanked another contestant’s hair to throw them off balance, was a calculated display of survival. That endurance, paired with your quiet defiance of the chaos around you—including his own—captivated Thanos from the very beginning.
While Thanos reveled in his lingering popularity, relishing how some followed his every move like sheep to a shepherd, he couldn’t ignore one undeniable truth: for once, he wasn’t the center of attention. That honor belonged to you.
And never in a thousand of years would he see you here. In flesh. Not after the break up.
Like many others, you had joined the Games with hopes of a better life—a seductive promise whispered by the Salesman. His grotesque smile lingered in your mind whenever you stole a moment to rest, though such moments were rare. Still, your demeanor betrayed none of the turmoil beneath. Your stony expression, coupled with your tendency to linger at the edges, observing the chaos with silent disdain, set you apart. To you, the Games were a grim spectacle—a macabre theater of desperation and misplaced hopes.
Despite this, a few contestants managed to draw you into sparse, fleeting conversations. Thanos, however, stood apart—not because you sought him out, but because he was the last person you’d have ever chosen to engage with. And yet, it fascinated him. Knowing your shared history, he found it almost poetic to see you here, standing as a quiet, untouchable force while his own magnetism faltered in your shadow.
“This prick is getting on my nerves,” someone muttered, their voice sharp enough to cut through the murmurs of the room. The words belonged to 333. His number stood out just as much as his presence as he slid into the seat beside you. You’d learned his name was Lee Myung-gi. He extended a hand toward you, his lips curling into a soft grin that hinted at practiced charm. You nodded slightly, mirroring the gesture out of courtesy. “Y/N,” you said plainly.
There was a pause before Myung-gi’s gaze flicked toward Thanos, his tone lowering conspiratorially. “I don’t mean to stir the pot or anything, but... word is, you and Thanos were a thing. He says you’re pretending not to remember him. And that’s why you—”
“333!”
Thanos’s voice cut through like a blade, silencing Myung-gi mid-sentence. Both of you turned your heads in unison, meeting Thanos’s unyielding stare. You recognized that look immediately—brows furrowed, his glare burning with thinly veiled fury. It was a warning, one that promised Myung-gi wouldn’t survive another word in your direction. The intensity of it could rival any of the Games themselves.
“You should go,” you said quietly, your tone flat but decisive. Your eyes barely glanced at Myung-gi, let alone at Thanos. Yet the weight of his gaze pressed heavily on you, and something inside you churned—a mix of unease, defiance, and something far harder to name.
You wanted to let loose a string of curses, every sharp word you could think of—but you stopped yourself. The memory of a promise lingered in the back of your mind.
Never speak to one another after the breakup.
It was a fragile vow, one you both had clung to out of pride or necessity. But deep down, you knew it was only a matter of time before it shattered completely.
It wasn’t until the bathroom game that the tension reached its breaking point. Thanos never imagined he’d find himself mere feet away from you again, let alone in the confines of a separate room. Yet here he was, his determination undeterred, even as 333 hovered too close for his liking. Thanos wasn’t subtle about his intentions—he wouldn’t let anyone, least of all Myung-gi, encroach on what he still felt was his.
The image of you and 333 pressing X together during the last game still burned in Thanos’s mind, a fresh wound that refused to heal. It festered, replaying over and over like a mocking refrain, igniting a possessive anger he could no longer contain.
As he stepped into the bathroom hall, his focus zeroed in on Myung-gi, the irritation bubbling into something darker. “You’re getting all worked up. So there is something going on,” Thanos said, his voice low and edged with menace.
He stepped closer, his gaze sharp and unyielding. “If you press X again tomorrow...” Thanos leaned in, his words a venomous whisper, “I’ll cut off your finger and give it to her.”
Myung-gi’s jaw tightened at the threat, his discomfort evident. But what unsettled him more was the reason you’d pressed X with him in the first place. It wasn’t a calculated strategy or an empty gesture—it was a fleeting grasp at safety, something you rarely allowed yourself. While you were usually stoic, Myung-gi’s quiet acts of care had chipped away at your defenses, enough to make you question your own resolve.
Thanos couldn’t stand it. The rules of the Games were unambiguous, but what he thought he saw—the almost imperceptible closeness between you and Myung-gi, the way your lips hovered as if to kiss—was enough to set his blood ablaze. The possibility, imagined or not, was more than he could bear.
And that was the last straw.
“And ask her out. She’ll love it.”
“You asshole!” Thanos barely registered the punch before his jaw throbbed, the sharp sting waking something primal in him. His thumb brushed over his chin, checking for blood, before he retaliated with equal ferocity. “You motherfucker!” he snarled, his fist connecting with satisfying force.
Chaos erupted as their hands found each other’s throats, both grappling for dominance. Myung-gi’s back slammed against the bathroom stall, the sound echoing in the tight space. They crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs, fists flying without restraint. “Your money, your girl, your life—they’re all mine!” Thanos spat, driving his fist into Myung-gi’s cheek with enough force to make his knuckles ache.
But then, everything shifted. Thanos froze, his breath hitching as blood sprayed from his own mouth, splattering across Myung-gi’s face. The sudden realization of injury shocked him into silence. Without a word, he pulled back, retreating to the shadows of the stall, his chest heaving with ragged breaths.
And yet, in that moment of pain and rage, his mind wasn’t on the fight—it was on you. Always you.
The bathroom games were over. The stalls were scrubbed clean of the chaos that had unfolded, leaving little trace of what had transpired. As you and Myung-gi stepped out, your eyes met briefly. The way he looked at you—earnest, searching—was impossible to ignore. The remaining contestants loitered nearby, their presence a quiet reminder of the fragile truce this space demanded. But Thanos was nowhere to be found. Somehow, the thought of his absence made your shoulders feel just a little lighter.
Despite the unspoken rule of no interactions before returning to the dorms, Myung-gi broke it without hesitation. He rushed toward you, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. For a moment, you froze, unsure. But your hands instinctively found his face, fingers brushing over the bruise already darkening on his cheek.
You couldn’t stop the flood of thoughts about Thanos—how he’d reacted to other men during your relationship, the jealousy that often burned too brightly. The memories made your stomach twist with dread. But as your thumb grazed Myung-gi’s cheek, his eyes fluttered shut, leaning into the comfort of your touch.
“I don’t want to hear it,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the tension lingering in the air.
He let out a quiet scoff, his lips curling into a faint, tired smile. “The prick’s finally getting what he deserves anyway.”
#Lee Myung-gi x reader#myung gi x reader#myung gi x you#myung gi x oc#lee myung gi#player 333#lee myung gi imagines#thanos x reader#thanos imagines#thanos squid game#squid game x reader#squid game imagines#squid games season 2#squid games x reader#squid game s2#squid games x you#myung gi imagines
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my serendipity ₊˚⊹♡
— promise yourself to him, and he'll love you forever tenfold. or... the blue lock boys and their proposals to you.
starring ; isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, michael kaiser content warnings ; gn!reader, alcohol consumption (isagi), reader wears a skirt (bachira), cursing (shidou/kaiser), reader wears a dress and heels (kaiser), lowk ooc shidou and maybe kaiser, possessive kaiser a/n ; happy late valentine's day everyone and a happy birthday to me hehe! i hope i'm not late by a mere day, but this is both my valentine's day event and my birthday gift from me to you all, so i hope that alongside this, you're surrounded by nothing but tender loving care amidst the season of love ( •◡-)-♡! there's also a collection of some of my favorite love songs i've added under each of the names that i think fit them/their scene, so take a listen for a more immersive experience, enjoy!
— love, isagi yoichi.
The freshness of the meadow's air was an atmosphere you think you can breathe in forever, for it was so much more pristine and clear than the air you were used to in the city. The setting sun overviews the seaside town that you and your boyfriend took the pleasure of visiting as a treat for you both since he was currently off season and you decided to make the most out of what you could do. It was a scene straight out of a painting, you think to yourself, as yellows and oranges paint the sky overhead, a sliver of iris beginning to take over as twilight sets.
The little town below you hustles and bustles about, its townspeople fluttering over to wrap up the seemingly mundane day. You're a little envious that they get to see such a beautiful sight like this everyday and get to breathe in fresh air without the mayhem of cars and salarymen scattering themselves. Closing your eyes, you take in the cooling spring air of the meadow, letting yourself linger amidst the peaceful atmosphere of the countryside.
You'll miss this. The peace and placidity of a place like this. You dream of retiring to a cottage somewhere similar to here, somewhere where the grass is greener and the sky is bluer. You think it'd do you some good.
"I think some wine would pair well with your daydreaming," a voice says playfully.
Opening your eyes, you see your companion holding a bottle of wine in his hands, gentle eyes softening at your serenity. Yoichi is glad he brought you here, knowing that you needed a break from city life to just simply get away to the tranquility of the countryside. The change in you was more than evident—the stiffness in your body was long gone upon arrival and you were much more laxed when it came to last minute changes on the itinerary. It was rare he saw this side of you, so he savored it with every moment he was able to get.
Smiling gently at your boyfriend, you nod and let him pour two glasses of white wine into the glasses you and him had brought for this picnic.
"How're the sandwiches?" Yoichi asks, handing you your glass. "I bought them at this local diner nearby the hotel, so I hope they're okay."
"I really was never much of a bologna fan until now," you say as you pick up your half-eaten sandwich and hold it out for him to take a nibble. "It's a little salty, but I like it."
"I'm glad," he affirms through chews before he hums in approval. "Did you try the charcuterie board yet? This place is known for their cheeses."
You shake your head. Yoichi grins and eagerly begins to throw together a cheese-and-cracker creation, topped off with a bit of crumbled nuts. He gently cups his hand underneath the one holding the stack and motions for you to come forward.
Biting gently and letting his hand catch the crumbs, you giggle when you thoughtfully chew on the combinations as Yoichi throws the extra crumbs in his mouth to not let anything go to waste.
"Hey! This was pricey," he claims, "I'm sure half a cracker cost one hundred yen each..."
You fight the urge to spit out your food at his exaggeration. Yoichi may be a world class soccer player, with the mere mention of his name lighting peoples' faces with pride as the ace of one of Japan's soccer teams, but despite his hefty salary, there was still that semi-frugal middle class boy who still debated in buying a yogurt drink or ice cream whenever you and him stopped by a convenience store—never mind the fact that he could buy fifty of each in one sitting.
His humbleness, however, is what made you so drawn to him in the first place. He knew, you knew, and everyone knew of his great skill and play on the field, but in interviews, he was always one to scratch his neck and say "I just did what I could, really..." post-games. Yoichi never let the fame get to his head, and his ability to stay so grounded to earth made you filled with love solely for him and him alone.
The mix of the sweetness of the cheese and the saltiness of the cracker blend beautifully together on your tongue. You mimic his actions from before and give a hum and nod with approval at your boyfriend's taste.
There's a few other assortments of food that you and him have collected prior to the picnic—some fresh fruit you had bought and cut from the farmer's market, a small pasta bowl made by Yoichi himself, little quiches you had grabbed from one of the bakeries, and a strange white box that peeks itself out of the picnic basket that you have yet to open that was brought by Yoichi.
Gently clinking your glasses together, the wine that goes down your throat feels just as mellow as the atmosphere that hugs you and your boyfriend. Everything feels just so perfect right now, you could bathe yourself in such contentment.
Some conversations float by between you and Yoichi, breezy and effortless for sometime as the sun slowly sets itself into the mountains. Talks about work, about his recent plays (you laugh out loud whenever his anger gets the best of him and a short fuse of cusses spit out from him when he talks about specific players' plays, throwing a stray at one of his teammates), about the latest gossips, everything that just comes naturally to you. There was no need for a filter whenever Yoichi was with you. His judgement barely shone through when you were around.
He finishes the last of his wine rather quickly. Yoichi places it down gently and grabs your hands in his own. "I have a surprise for you."
A brow raises as your lips curl. "Oh?"
"Wait here, yeah?" Yoichi asks as grabs the picnic basket and places it in front of you. "I have to go grab something from the car. Why don't you prepare the cake in the meantime, hm? Maybe do some cleanup with the food, too, since it's getting late."
"Oh so that's what's inside the box," you murmur.
"Uh huh, I had it specially made for us," he says with a pinch of excitement in his voice. Yoichi gathers up a few of the plates and juts them in your hands, a wobbly smile upon his face as he gets up and dusts himself off, beginning to jog off in the direction of the parking lot. "I'll be right back!"
You blink at his hastiness, a little out of character for him, but shrug as you return back to your original position facing the coastal town and sunset. You're glad he tasked you with cleaning up the leftovers, since you've grown accustomed to Yoichi's occasional messiness and clumsiness when it came to handling food. There was one time during a friend's dinner party that he dropped the pot roast in front of everyone, meat going everywhere to Bachira's delight and to Barou's disdain. You also grow a little weary whenever he's around ceramic, since he's broken quite a few bowls and plates without much effort since Yoichi doesn't seem to have a grasp of his own strength whenever he washes the dishes.
You shake your head at the memories, quietly laughing to yourself when you remember Barou forcing him to mop his apartment floor from the remnants of the meat as a punishment. Barou still invites you over to his house during group events, but you often have to plead with him to invite your boyfriend, now used to the pulled face he makes or the curse of, "Is the donkey really necessary to bring?" through the phone.
Tenderly, you open the picnic basket and carefully take out the white cake box to put it on the blanket. You go to prepare two plates together for the cake and take the cake cutter out of the basket, ready for slicing. Your fingers gently tug at the delicate silk ribbon right before you open the lid.
Your heart skips a beat.
It's a simple white vanilla cake shaped into a heart. Its framed with pale pink frosting on its side, as well as a couple of chocolate-covered strawberries placed in some places of the framing. But it's not the design of the cake that captures you.
It's what's written on it.
Four words written in delicate cursive so clearly and distinctly that it's hard to miss.
Will you marry me?
Your breath hitches as you read it with glazed eyes, your head whipping around to call Yoichi over, thinking perhaps he grabbed the wrong cake by accident from the cake shop, but your doubts suddenly dissipate when you're faced with Yoichi on one knee before you...
... with a velvet box in hand, a glimmering ring ready for you tucked carefully within it.
Words falter, and you can only stare at him in astonishment as he smiles at you, his lips still a little crooked in apprehension.
He bites his lip, grin growing a little wider as tears brim your eyes.
"Well?"
— with all my heart, bachira meguru.
"Meguru, that's cheating!"
"Since when where there rules to tag?!"
You huff in annoyance as your boyfriend hops off the railing of the staircase he just slid down from as his hand grazed your back to indicate you were "it" again.
You can feel some of the stares of the security guards that were left to babysit you and him as you dash your way down the staircase to chase after your boyfriend through the empty halls of the museum he had cleared out for you and him this evening. That's one of the many pros of being a professional soccer player—that anything can be bent at someone's will with a mere slide of stacks of cash. And Meguru had decided to use his own gain to entertain you and him.
By playing a game of tag between the two of you in amidst the massive art museum.
He claimed it was the perfect foundation for it; pillars to hide behind, a maze of rooms to obscure the tail that one may have on another, wide halls to run around in. For Bachira Meguru, this was the perfect battleground besides the turf of a soccer field. You suppose it also came from his early love of art due to his mother being a painter, with some of her collections even being shown for the season in one of the halls.
Anyone else of your ages would think such an activity was foolish. To an extent, yes, they were right. You and Meguru were both adults with adult responsibilities and adult lives... but you only live once and you and him lived by the philosophy to live it to the fullest. Childish whimsies came more often to you and your boyfriend, and that was the gravitational pull that drew you and him together to blossom a relationship filled with surprises and spontaneity. You felt unbelievably alive with him.
He'd call you in the middle of the night, asking you if you want to skinny dip in the nearby beach with him. He'd stop the car in the middle of a busy road as the view of an amusement park came closer, snatching your arm and tugging you out of it to run to its entrance. He'd show up at your door with concert tickets in hand unprompted, jutting one in your hand and telling you to get ready.
Bachira Meguru was a lightening bolt, sparking energy everywhere unsolicited. And you were more than happy to be struck over again and again if it meant you felt alive.
So now you're here. It's near midnight, and you're sure you and him have scattered almost all the interior terrain of the museum he cleared out in your game of tag that he brought up to you yesterday evening out of nowhere, telling you to dress nice, but to wear running shoes.
Meguru poked his head out from behind a wall that lead to the other room, giggling as you whip your head a few times to catch where he went before you spot his bright canary yellow eyes and run after him.
You weave through the plethora of statues that sprinkle about the corridor, sprinting after the flash of brown and yellow hair in front of you. It shouldn't be fair that you're currently chasing down a professional soccer player who clearly has the upper hand, but in all honesty, you think the challenge makes it all the more fun, more exciting.
Stopping to catch your breath, you hunch down for a bit, gathering your skirt in your hands to reveal the worn-out running shoes you wear that contrast heavily to the neat outfit you're wearing as you collect your energy.
"Don't tell me you're tired already," Meguru sings out, his voice rather close.
You lift your head up to see your boyfriend standing just a few meters in front of you, leaning on a pillar of a statue with a cocky smile, arms crossed as if this was the easiest thing in the world. There wasn't even a sheen of sweat on his forehead, unlike your misted one. Your chest heaves for a few moments, and he watches anticipatingly as you collect yourself before you take a swipe at him.
Meguru jumps back just in time, laughter ringing out as you gather up your speed and sprint. You manage to turn a corner that's shared with the hallway he had just turned on and take a shortcut, waiting behind the open wall before you jump out and tap his shoulder.
"Gotcha," you grin as he gasps in delight and looks back at you, mischief ever so clear in his face.
You attempt to muffle your many fits of giggles when you come up with a plan to try and escape him. There's two choices that unfold before you—either you can run up the flight of stairs into the Greek artifacts or you can enter into the inner garden.
With not much time left, you can hear his quickening footsteps growing louder and louder, and you go for the latter.
Your feet carry you into the dark garden, making you squint your eyes to get a proper view of where you're going, but you see a sheen of light the closer you get to the center of it. Deciding that might be where the common area is, you quickly dart towards it but gasp when the entirety of it comes into full view.
Candles light up the middle area of the garden with rose petals sprinkled about the ground. A large balloon arch of white and gold arcs over what seems to be small semi-circle of little flower bouquets with a small white rug placed delicately in the middle of it all. There's two words that spell themselves out in blocky letter lights.
MARRY ME?
It takes you awhile to register the scene before you, your heart thrumming faster and faster each time you scan it.
"Aw man, you found it too early..." Meguru's voice sulks from behind you.
Whipping your head around, you yelp at your boyfriend's sudden appearance, making him grin. You think you need to take a pause from all the excitement you've been absorbed in for the past few hours, a new one being blossomed at this very moment.
There truly was never a dull moment with Bachira Meguru.
Wordlessly, his smile turns less playful and more tender when you can't find the words to say. He takes your hand in his own grasp and gently leads you to the scene before you, getting down on one knee and pulling out a small box from his back pocket.
"(L/N) (Y/N)," Meguru starts slowly, his voice displaying the utmost sincerety he's able to muster and possibly the most serious you've ever seen him. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me and being with me for the rest of our lives?"
With someone as special and as enigmatic as Meguru, it really doesn't take you much debating to choose your answer. Someone like this only comes once in a lifetime, and you decide to cherish it as much as you can in this one.
You only live once after all.
You nod, whispering a "Yes..."
Meguru's smile stretches wide before he shouts out in happiness, jumping in the air. You laugh loudly at his antics before he plucks out the ring and puts it on your finger, letting you admire it before sharing a loving kiss. The security guards that oversee the garden let out claps of celebration and a couple of shouts of approval, making you and him laugh at the accidental audience.
Meguru goes to wipe away a fallen tear from your cheek before kissing your forehead gently. He suddenly goes near your ear and whispers,
"This still means you're 'it', by the way."
— sincerely yours, itoshi rin.
Rin always thought he was meant to be alone.
His own parents tended more of their attention to Sae, and Sae himself left Rin to his own devices when Rin was only eleven, just barely hatching into puberty. Much of life Rin had to learn the harder way, where he had no forewarnings from anyone and he had to be taught his own lessons. It was his own self-discipline that got him through much of his younger years that made him so sustainable solely by his own foundations.
Even during games, he tended to lean on his own instincts on what he thought was best rather than relying on his teammates for the best play possible. If it were legible, Rin would've taken an opportunity to play 1v11 in a match since he carried the majority of his teams anyway with his prodigal skills.
He thrived best in an isolated environment anyway. And Rin felt okay with it. No person is forever anyways, not even his own blood.
Until you came along.
It was in his second year during college. It was you and your stupid owl keychain on your stupid backpack that accidentally let out your stupid second volume of Ciguatera right in front of him. It was the stupid way how his hands lingered on the book just a little more than he should've. It was the stupid way that his eyes always gravitated to you during lectures. It was the stupid way that you and him were assigned as partners for a project. It was the stupid way your eyes lit up when you found out he played soccer.
It was the stupid way he felt able to breathe the air much more comfortable around you the more he spent time with you. It was the stupid way the days felt duller when he didn't see you on campus. It was the stupid way his heart fluttered when you laughed, when you smiled, when you said his name.
It was all so... stupid.
A feeling he never felt before had been born from your existence. Itoshi Rin usually had a pretty solid grasp on things he could control, but he didn't know how to handle such a feeling of affection because he hadn't ever felt it before, and it felt too slippery to try and get a firm grip of. You shook his core, and Rin hated it because only one other person in his life was able to do such a thing.
Learning it was best to do so after his last lesson to keep himself safe, he attempted to push you away before his heart broke a second time. Yet somehow, Rin felt more drawn to your pull every time he tried to create space between you and him.
They say that distance makes the heart grow fonder. Rin never really gave the feeling much thought in regards to you until he found himself dismal and in a grey area again without seeing your face at least once, but still ever so stubborn, he thought this was best. This is what he was used to—being alone.
"I don't have time for you anymore," he said to you one evening as he dropped you off at your dorm. This would be the last time he'd do this, he promised himself, just one more time to make sure you were safe to put himself at ease.
You had turned back to him with the saddest eyes he'd ever seen, but with a small smile still on your face. Without asking for a reason, you merely nodded. "I see. Well... goodbye then."
Rin tried to ignore the way his heart had clenched so tightly as he watched you disappear into your dorm hall without glancing back at him one more time, though there seemed to be a slight lag in your steps.
But the lines blurred. It wasn't him being alone that he reclused himself to during your absence from his life... but rather loneliness. He was back to being lonely, not alone.
He had to go back to watching movies by himself, conversing with his own thoughts instead of another voice. He had to go back to eating meals by himself without having a foot nudge his own under a table. He had to go back and stop looking for a specific pair of bright eyes and a wishful smile in the stands during games.
He went back to a world of grey of his doing. All because he was terrified to let another person handle his own heart. And he was doing a good job at altering his life back to the way it was, until you did what you usually did best and butt in and splash color all over his monochromatic canvas again.
It was before an away game, in the common-area just before he boarded the coach bus. There, just before you turned the corner, he spotted you saying goodbye to someone, where you had accidentally made eye contact with turquoise eyes that seemed to shine for the first time in a long time at your appearance before him. He couldn't stop himself from staring, feeling relieved that you were still within his radius despite him being the one to create space.
You lingered there for a moment, before swallowing and mouthing to him with that stupid gentle, forgiving smile of yours,
"Good luck. Do well."
Rin sprinted off the bus the moment they were back on campus after winning by a landslide due to his off-the-wall playing. His feet carried him to your dorm, where he rapidly knocked on your door despite it being near midnight. You opened the door to him and despite hating it when people touched him, Rin had held you so tightly with hitched breaths, whispering "I'm sorry..." over and over again into your ear.
And came Itoshi Rin's first love, blossomed on a random Friday night.
His only love at that. He can't imagine the ring in his pocket being for anyone else.
A couple years older now, he walks alongside you on the beach that he used to ponder about whatnot on as he listens to you talk about the latest gossip at work. This is the rhythm of how your dynamic usually works—you talk, Rin listens. He likes it that way. It's an adequate balance.
The air is cooling now, now that autumn is approaching. You're huddled in a light jacket (Rin's, respectively), and gently warm your hands by rubbing them together to let the created friction emit some heat. Rin silently grabs your hands and cups them together, embellishing a better warmth from his own breath instead of letting you do your own work.
Your eyes soften as you let his love language speak for him, his own gaze coming to meet yours as his hands envelope yours and clasps them tightly to keep the heat trapped in your skin.
"Is that better?" he asks quietly, eyes looking for any sign of your approval.
You nod contently. "Mm hm."
"I told you to dress warm," he says, sighing, "next time, bring gloves."
You know Rin long enough to know such a tone of phrase isn't necessarily scolding you, but rather cautioning you out of genuine care. It wasn't his fault his voice had a natural cutting-edge tone, but you've grown accustomed to the little bits of adjustments he does to indicate he's not being cold.
The soft sand feels more pliable than usual. Perhaps it was the heavier layers you wear, but you find yourself sinking into it more easily. Rin helps stabilize you by gripping your hand in his own, noticing your imbalance.
"It's just a little further," he murmurs softly, a little shy when he squeezes your hand in his jacket pocket.
He was never able to quite fully get over his fluster around you. You made his head fill with cotton, his heart pound a little harder, whenever you were within his vicinity, despite knowing every detail about you. Even after six years of being together as an official couple, he never was able to fully get over that high school crush feeling. Maybe that's a good thing, though. Maybe it was meant to be that way. It was probably life's way of telling him that you were made to last for him, as only you were able to emit such a feeling for him when no one else could.
They say the average relationship lasts two years and three months. Yet somehow, Rin has never gotten over the feeling of falling in love with you since the moment he spotted you for the first time during a home game. It's been six years and ten months since that incident, and he figures that if such a feeling hasn't expired yet, it might never will.
The trail of candles suddenly appear before you to your surprise. The sand trail that it frames is the only part of the beach that is untouched by feet, as though it was waiting for you to imprint on it. On the other side of the trail lies a half-circular structure of individual white roses, all standing up right from the sand, along with blanket and a basket of wine and chocolates.
"Oh my," you mumble quietly, clearly taken aback at the rather romantic scene. While your boyfriend always did the most when it came to your dates, this was another level of sentimental. Be it the isolation from other people on the beach or the sunset horizon in the background, you feel a wave of solitude when Rin trails you down the path.
"This is rather new," you say to him suddenly, your eyes wide with worry. "Um, I didn't forget something big, did I? We celebrated your birthday... our anniversary isn't for another month..." you count down all the possible major events that you and Rin celebrated together as a couple on your fingers, but Rin shakes his head.
"No," he interjects. "This... i-is something completely different."
You blink owlishly and tilt your head, leaning your face closer to examine your boyfriend's blushed cheeks.
"Oh, are you proposing?" you ask inquisitively with a sparking coy smile, as if it was the plainest thing in the world.
Rin tends to be rather flat with his emotions, but he can't help but gawk when you guess correctly. He supposes his reaction gives his plans away, since you burst out laughing when a choked noise comes out of his throat.
"So I'm correct?" you ask through giggles.
"How'd you know?!" Rin asks, his blush now spreading rapidly on his face, the back of his neck absolutely burning with heat. Upset that all the plans he kept repeating to himself for the entire last three days was suddenly disrupted by you picking up context clues, he feels his ego crumbling before you, going back to square one where he'd feel that familiar flutter in his chest.
"Meguru told me a week ago when we all went to that one bar," you mention. "He had a little too much to drink and ended up accidentally spilling the beans."
A vein pops on Rin's forehead with avid irritation, jaw gritting as the phantom of a familiar bob-cut throws a peace sign in his mind. This is what's bound to happen when Rin asks for help on a major life event from the one person that can't keep his mouth shut even with a gun to his temple. But Bachira was the only person in the friend group that had been married so far to who was essentially his twin flame, meaning he was ultimately the last resort.
Rin thinks that he should've just asked someone on the street instead, now that it's clear his decision went awry.
Stupid shitty, fucking lukewarm bob-cut... Rin curses in his mind, a fire burning behind his eyes. Next time I see him, I'll—
"My answer is 'yes', by the way, Rin."
Rin's violent daydreams are suddenly broken when your voice cuts through. Your sweet, supple voice that's able to calm him down just by the sound of his name falling from his lips. Your superpower, he thinks.
He suddenly loosens his fist that he was making in his hand and looks at you. Clear, smiling eyes gaze at his wide ones with affirmation so distinctly held within them. All the tension he had been feeling up until this very moment instantaneously dissolves, running through his now-loosened fist like sand from the beach you and him are posted on.
He wants to grab your face and kiss you with as much strength he can muster. Wants to whisper sweet nothings and loving promises into lips he's tasted over and over again, yet just can't get enough of. Wants to hold you so tightly in his arms to the point where you meld into each other.
But, nevertheless, he holds himself back. There's still something he has to do.
"At least let me say the damn thing first," he mutters and finally gets down on one knee, his gaze never faltering against yours.
You giggle, nodding and letting him take one of your hands as his unoccupied one goes to fetch the ring box from his back pocket.
Rin was, and still is, not a man of many words. He says what he needs to say the moment he needs to say them. He feels as though he can't waste his time on incessant words, but this time, he feels as though four words can carry all the meaning he needs to convey.
He swallows thickly, presenting a luscious, glimmering ring at you, noticing the way your eyes become hypnotized with the specialized gem settled in the middle of the band.
"(Y/N)," Rin states, smoothing over your precious ring finger. "Will you marry me?
— forever yours, shidou ryusei.
"Ryu, you're gonna get another ticket!" you yell out through the helmet as the motorcycle's speedometer's needle rapidly ticks up. Your arms wrap securely around his waist as he laughs off your concern, his grip on the handles tightening when he squeezes the throttle grip.
You know Ryusei loves to live life to its fullest—its the core of his way of living life. He's irrational and explosive, impulsive and eccentric. Anything that makes him tick is what captures his full attention.
Unfortunately for you, your complete opposite behaviors is uniquely what made him so magnetized by you for reasons unknown. Unlike Ryusei, who tends to stand out wildly in a crowd, be it his unconventional haircut or his obnoxious thoughts that he just can't keep to himself, you're demure and quiet. You keep to yourself at all times and you think that you're quite plain-looking. You don't sport wild hair or scattered piercings, nor do you remove your filter and say what you want to say, so you don't understand how someone like you have a spotlight in Ryusei's mind.
But you do, somehow. And you don't think that he's too intent on shifting it to anyone else soon.
So now you're here. It's eleven at night with an near-empty highway before you, backpacking your boyfriend that your parents heavily disapprove of in the middle of the night because he snatched you up from your apartment and told you to follow him. He tossed you his spare helmet for his motorcycle and off you and him drove into the night.
You should've known better, you really should've, considering it was Ryusei after all that you were dealing with. He'll do anything that his mind tells him to without thinking of the consequences. You can't think of another person in the world who has little to no judgement about his actions.
"Don't worry 'bout it, dolly!" he guffaws from his helmet. He lurches forward and you squeal when the motorcycle's speed suddenly jumps. "You know I'd never hurt ya!"
You very much want to protest against his claim, considering he's forced you to tag along with extreme experiences that have put you scraping at Death's door, but every time, Ryusei always tugs you back to reality, to him. Because your his before anyone else's, even the Reaper himself.
"Where are we even going?!" you ask out loud, trying to leer over his shoulder for any sort of familiar direction. To no avail, you're only met with the empty road of the highway, only lit by the streetlights. "I have a meeting really early tomorrow!"
"Fuck your meeting!" Ryusei hollers, giving another one of those joker-like laughs. "Fuck your job in general, but fuck your meeting specifically!"
You know Ryusei's hatred for your corporate job. Blame it on him hating the mundane or how you rant to him about your trashy bosses, he keeps telling you to ditch the position over and over again, even asking you if you quit every time you bring it up. You know that it's just him trying to be a good boyfriend, but when you try to bring up the fact that the job market for your skills is trash, he only shrugs and just tells you why even bother with working. His salary as a soccer player is more than enough to cover you and him.
"That doesn't answer my question!" you shout back through the loud roaring of the motorcycle's engine. "Where are we going?!"
"You'll see! You need to trust me!" he yells from over his shoulder. You can see those rows of menacing pearly whites from the shaded visor and your stomach stirs a little. From excitement or anxiety, that was up to fate to decide. You've placed your trust in Ryusei's hands a plethora of time and you still haven't gotten a good grasp of its pattern of consequences.
You merely sigh in defeat, placing your chin on his shoulder and placing your whims at his hands, letting him take reign of your late-night journey.
From a desolate parking lot, he introduces you to a lone hill adorned with flora, where a wooden staircase at the bottom of it waits for you and him to carry you to the top of it. It's rather a rough journey, with you counting a total of eleven flights of stairs of ten steps each that you have to take up in the dead of night where you were wringed out of all the energy you had from the day. Ryusei wastes no time, leaping through the first three with no problem. He waits for you as you heave through them at your own pace, your legs already starting to turn numb.
"Took you long enough," Ryusei remarks, not even waiting for a reply from you before he begins to climb another three.
By the time you've reached the sixth flight, he's already done with all of them to your discontent. He calls for you to hurry up from atop the stairs and you flicker back a frustrated middle finger back at him, to which he only answers back with an boisterous laugh.
"Oop, watch your step, doll," he cautions as he catches you last minute before you nearly face-plant on the floor when you trip on your last stair, your legs shaky from the exhaustion. "What took you so long?" he asks tauntingly.
You shove him off of you, deciding it was better to lean on a tree. "Screw you..."
"Mmh, you can do that later, if you'd like," he murmurs flirtatiously in your ear, laughing viciously as you swat at him. He lets you catch your breath before tugging at your sleeve and telling you to hurry. "Your surprise is waiting, c'mon."
Leave it to Shidou Ryusei to plan something spontaneous in the dead of the night. It was unfortunately very like him to do something as erratic as this, and you just hope whatever he has in store doesn't involve you facing a near-death experience like the one time he brought you bungee-jumping straight after work.
Yawning, you nod and follow him with fatigued limbs. It takes your tired eyes a little while to adjust to what Ryusei is pointing at, but the heaviness disappears the moment you understand why he brought you here so late.
The hill somehow overviews nearly all of the city and the lights it gleams out into the night. Your breath catches itself in your throat as you take in the glorious sight of the stars in the sky and the array of lights that dance about the city's skyline. The taller skyscrapers in the background loom over the rest of the city like guardians and the light of cars on the winding highway that circles around it look like little fairies dancing about.
It's a gorgeous view that you knew you would've never seen if it weren't for the interference in your normally-mundane life that is Shidou Ryusei.
A pair of arms goes to wrap themselves around your waist and bring you closer to a chest. Ryusei settles himself nicely in the divot between your shoulder and neck, inhaling a bit of your leftover perfume. "You like?"
You nod, eyes taking in the breathtaking view in full depth, scanning every inch that your field of vision lets you see. "Yes," you breathe.
"Good," he mutters, "Discovered this place randomly a few weeks ago after a post-celebration. I thought you might like it."
"It's gorgeous, Ryu," you warmly whisper, your heart melting a little at his consideration.
In any frontal aspect, no one would expect the Shidou Ryusei to be in a relationship, let alone be good at handling one. But after being with him for quite awhile, with your third anniversary coming up soon, you found a side to him that would be deemed almost unnatural to the unsuspecting eye. Underneath those layers of brashness, you were able to find a softer side of him, one that'd only be revealed to you and you alone.
Sure, there were times when his usual image would shine through when you were with him, most prominent when there were others around that were eyeing you ("Take a look this way and I'll bust your head in, bud!" he had shouted with a wicked smile to a passerby one time that looked at you with just the slightest bit too much of intent), but behind closed doors, a tenderness revealed itself dedicated for you.
Because in all honesty—Ryusei was a good boyfriend. Audacious and obnoxious, sure, but good. There was a reason why your relationship has lasted this long, after all. He'd come at your beck and call when you needed him most with no questions asked. He'd offer you advice whenever you complained about something, knowing that you didn't really care about sympathy. He always remembered important dates, even the miniscule ones like what date the new season of your favorite show released just so he can watch it with you.
That layer that only you got to see was the prime reason as to why you returned his affection in equal fervor.
You begin to feel his lips peppering a small path up the side of the neck, letting out a brief yelp when you feel his sharp teeth graze the lobe of your ear. You can feel him grin against your skin.
"You wanna elope with me, doll?" he asks suddenly.
Spine stiffening, you look at him from the side of your now-widened eyes. "Huh?"
"You heard me," he shrugs nonchalantly, as if it doesn't bother him. And it probably doesn't, knowing that he'll always have a way out eventually to get what he wants.
"I—" you start, your words suddenly knotting in your throat. "Ryu... that's a big decision."
"Well duh!" he exclaims. "That's the point! We gotta make it dramatic as possible. That's the whole fun of it."
"Are you only asking me to do this just so you can get some weird spark of adrenaline?" you ask, brows furrowing in anticipation.
Ryusei snorts. "You think that lowly of me? Hell no. I wanna marry you, for real. It's just..." For the first time since you've known him... you hear Shidou Ryusei falter. His head hunches a bit, a frown forming itself on his lips.
"Your parents will never approve of me, we both know that," he says, his grip around you tightening as though you'd slip away from him at any moment. "I'd never get their blessing."
Your eyes soften a bit as he stares intently at the view in front of you. The way his voice goes so quiet confirms the genuineness behind his words and you know what he says about your parents is true. Yes, he loves you and yes, he'll be able to provide for you, but when your parents learned about his reputation on the field as a soccer player, they exactly weren't the most pleased to know that your boyfriend was willing to start fights with whoever dared to cross him.
But... despite it all, despite all the headlines and the rumors, Shidou Ryusei was still yours. You still held him close despite all the challenges that came your way just for being at his side. It was that singular layer of himself that he'd unsheathe just for you to let you know that you mattered to him just as much as soccer did. While the questions of why were still left unanswered, since as much as you knew him, Ryusei was still an enigma to you, his actions spoke loud and true. Reckless as he was, at the end of the day, he was so, so good to you.
Sure, you could also get loving from some plucky nobody on the street, but Ryusei's form of love was different. It was vibrant, avid with colors and explosions of life, you don't think another person could dare paint themselves in the colors of Shidou Ryusei.
You could go about your mundane life. Settle down with someone that was just as enticing as you were, have a family, keep working at your corporate job, retire peacefully...
... but truly, where was the fun in that?
You don't think you can live life in that manner after meeting Ryusei. You don't think you should.
"... are you really serious about this?" you mutter softly. "Do you really intend on marrying me?"
Ryusei cocks a brow, as if you've just asked him if the sky is blue. "No shit I do. You think all those times me screaming 'This one's for you' right before I score a goal were for nothing?"
You sigh with a smile, memories of playbacks of your boyfriend shrieking out your name on the field when the ball lands in the net running through your mind and how you had to hide your face at times in embarrassment when he pointed a painted fingernail in your direction in the VIP section.
"Do you swear you'll treat me well?" you ask as your hand finds its way to his own.
Ryusei interlocks his fingers with yours. "When have I not?"
Your heart squeezes. "And do you swear that you'll love me forever?"
You can just hear the smirk in his voice as he titters. Suddenly, he removes his hands and repositions them on your waist, your feet suddenly not being rooted to the ground anymore.
"'Till death to us part, sweetness!" he shouts, twirling you around with his strength.
You yell at him to put you down, fists going to hit his arms as he nears the edge of the fencepost. "Okay, okay, I get it! Ryu, I'll fall—Christ, Ryusei put me down! I'll marry you, just put me down!"
Eventually, he does and his laughter ceases. Suddenly, your cheeks are being squished and your lips meet his in a semi-violent manner, teeth nearly clashing as Ryusei kisses you hard and passionately.
He holds you there for a minute, tasting your lips over and over again with his before he breaks apart from you and gives you a wide grin, smirking at your flustered breathlessness.
"Call off work," he says, giving a wet kiss on your forehead. "We're going ring shopping tomorrow first thing."
— promisingly yours, michael kaiser.
"I hate you."
... is what Kaiser said to you out of the blue one day, completely unprompted. You were standing at the entrance of his apartment, some food for him in hand, your journey to travel to his abode ending on a rather oddly sour note.
Despite the fact that it was him that asked you to come over to "hang out" at his place while he was off-season, Kaiser wanted to push you away, to get you as far away from him as possible. He could no longer stand to look at your face without his gut churning and his head spinning. Similar in the way that he'd watch his opponent score a goal during a high-intensity game, something about your presence made him feel queasy, as though there were a storm brewing up inside of him.
It wasn't always this way, which was the weird part. Or perhaps, for a better wording, wasn't always this intense. You and him had been friends since childhood, after he wandered into your father's bakery with the intent to steal to survive. You had graciously given him some spare bread rolls and told him that you'll see him later, in which his return to your father's bakery had bloomed a friendship. Leave it to the neighborhood baker's kid to befriend even the oddest of children, even the one that had a scrappy jersey and bruised knees with a busted lip that would send warning signs to most children. But no, you had to come in and swoop Kaiser into your life like the saint you were.
The problem is that Kaiser didn't know how a sickening feeling like this developed. Was it when you had baked him a small cake for one of his birthdays? Or perhaps when you started showing up to his soccer games to support him? He didn't know and that's what pissed him off—that he didn't have a definite answer to when this feeling started. He let go of that irritation quickly, however, choosing to dwell on the present and future instead of the past since he knew he couldn't change it even if he did have a framework of when. It wasn't like he could go back into the past and stop this horrid feeling from being born.
It was swiftly replaced instead by an annoyance of some kind. He'd get a tugging feeling at his chest whenever you smiled at him or whenever your hands would brush against his. His head would start to spin whenever you were near him, your perfume mingling in the air. The older you and him grew, the more intense such a feeling became and it became a more avid distraction as the years passed.
Like the time you had been sick and missed out on an extremely important match that would bring him to the German Cup. He remembers seeing the empty seat he reserved for you and how he kept looking back at it during each play. He'd score a goal in a miraculous play and would whip his head around to see if you witnessed him in such a glory, but then a frustration would stir up within him at the air that lingered in your seat. He remembers being more destructive on the field that day, his poor opponents having to be in the path of his chaos.
Or perhaps the time he had taken you on a trip abroad to New York, just you and him, where amidst all the sparkling billboards, one of his own sponsored by Adidas posted on the Times Tower, Kaiser's handsome face overseeing the business of Times Square. It was hard not to miss, if anything, and he got upset that you only complimented it with a mere "That's so cool!" as though the man standing right next to you wasn't the face for one of the top soccer teams in the world.
Or when poor Ness had to witness him throw a tantrum in his apartment when you texted him that you had to cancel plans since you were going on a date one evening. He saw red. Plates and glassware were broken, Kaiser's nails going to rip some of the canvases of the paintings that were hung up on the wall. Furniture perched for display suddenly taking on a newer, broken form as he'd punch and destroy them.
"A date?! A motherfucking date?! What the hell?!" he had shouted as another plate made contact with the wall, shattering it into pieces. "(Y/N) doesn't go on dates?! What the fuck is this! Who the hell is this shithead, even?!"
In his fit of fury, thoughts of all kinds had raced through his mind, and Ness had to use all of his strength to make sure Kaiser didn't hunt to the poor soul that you had a date with down. Thankfully, you had called him later that night and asked to go to his place, telling him your date had stood you up.
Peace be upon him. Ness had never seen Kaiser more serene after he ended the call with you, a content smile on his face despite the destruction around him.
Either way, you made Kaiser's body weaker with just the presence of you around him. And nothing made Kaiser hate himself more than feeling weak, hating how he was reduced back to that small child on the kitchen floor, staring up helplessly at a monster that he was half-created from. Your very essence made his core tighten and a heat bloom all over his cheeks, something that sickened him.
So he hates you. He hates you unbelievably so much for being able to bring him to his knees so pathetically, begging for your attention and your care and savoring every bit of it when you did grant it to him and only him.
Yet a twisted sense of shame would linger to him whenever he was reminded of your existence—as though you were his kryptonite.
He thinks this is the worse it's ever been—now that you and him are fully grown adults where maturity has blossomed something within you. You look more beautiful than usual lately, Kaiser notices. You're more confident and headstrong, your wit a little quicker. An aura of radiance seems to glimmer from you and you just have this magnetic pull that attracts many people toward your direction to both Kaiser's pride and disdain.
In a sinister sense, Kaiser wants to keep you all to himself. Wants to keep you trapped in his hold and keep you caged so he can admire you alone, away from prying eyes that might have similar intentions. No one should deserve to have such a beauty in their life, let alone gaze upon it. He's God's chosen emperor, only he should be allowed to have such a pretty, loving thing at his side.
But he can't obviously. You wouldn't be okay with it. And as much as Kaiser takes great pleasure in seeing faces of despair and misery from those he wants to bring down, he doesn't like it when you get upset at him. Loathes it, even, when you disapprove of something he does. You'd scold him for something small and he'd do everything in his power to reverse your disappointment, showering you in expensive gifts and lavish experiences to make up for it. It was pathetic, really, how quick he was to beg for forgiveness without even uttering the word "sorry."
He hates you for making him so vulnerable, for showing him a side of himself that he doesn't want to acknowledge. But he can't seem to push you away no matter how hard he wants to try to. Because he knows at the end of the day, he'll come crawling back to you in some manner.
You blink blankly at his irritated face, raising a brow at such a statement.
But you nonchalantly shrug, used to Kaiser's peculiar behavior. Surely something from earlier must've pissed him off, which is why you leapt to your feet when he essentially commanded you to come over, his bossiness and urgency clear in his tone over the phone call.
"Whatever man," you sigh, shoving your way through into his apartment without a care in the world. "Tell me something new for a change."
Kaiser opens his mouth to respond, brows furrowed, and ready to tell you to piss off and get the hell out, not wanting to be around you any longer, but words dissolve on his tongue when he watches you whistle a tune and unpack the package of food you bought along the way on the kitchen island. It's an oddly domestic scene that brings a solace back to him.
You hold up a plastic container, its contents making Kaiser's eye grow wider.
"Look," you cheer, opening up and holding a stick of seasoned bread crust. "Even got your favorite!"
He swallows thickly, feeling that weakness come to his knees again when you give that dazzling smile of yours. Call him a masochist, but even though Kaiser hates the way you make him feel like this, he can't help but savor in its pain oddly enough.
So he's here now. A few years later, officially your boyfriend after years and years of torturous pining in which the end of it came from what was essentially him spatting out a confession, on the rooftop of an ancient Parisian building with a white carpet before him as he stands on end of a white carpet. The other side of it, the elevator to the rooftop.
Blue rose petals that mimic the tattoo on his neck scatter the area with a flower arch stretching over the small stage he's on. The Eiffel Tower oversees the entirety of Paris, its lights glowing amidst the evening sky. The breeze is just perfect, Kaiser just hopes everything else will go according to plan as he stares intently at the elevator.
"Ness, it feels a little tight..." you mutter, trying to tug at the blindfold that covers your eyes.
"But you can't see anything, right?" Ness asks as his grip on your shoulders stays firm.
"No, but—"
"Good!" he retorts happily. "Don't worry, we've only got a few more floors to go."
Your lips warble. You feel as though this is somehow a weird murder set up Ness has planned for you, possibly waiting for the right moment to just shove you off the building while you weren't able to see. He always did happen to hold a small grudge against you, after all, since he had to practically fight for Kaiser's attention whereas you got it so naturally.
"Where's Micha?" you ask as the floors continue to ding out from inside of the elevator.
"Somewhere," Ness singsongs out, making the feeling in your gut churn.
You stay quiet, trying to think of an escape plan to get yourself out of this mess, but suddenly you hear the elevator doors shift and feel a cool breeze.
"Watch your step now," he says from behind you, lighting pushing you forward while making sure your heel didn't get caught in the little gap of the elevator and its doors. He promised that Kaiser that everything about tonight had to go right, and if he dared to mess up anything, Kaiser would have his head. Ness is sure Paris still has some guillotines leftover from the Revolution somewhere in the Palace of Versailles or deep in the catacombs, so Kaiser would surely find a way somehow.
So Ness, ten times more attentive than usual, gently leads you out of the elevator and onto the rooftop.
"Where are we?" you ask him, your head turning around rapidly to try and examine your surroundings despite the black blindfold. " Are we outside?"
"Leave us be, Ness," a familiar voice says.
Ah, there he is. The heavy feeling on your chest suddenly lifts, letting you breathe a little easier now that you know that your life has been spared from Ness's hands. Kaiser's voice, though it may bring impending doom to many, somehow had the ability to ease you and your worries. Perks of him being your boyfriend and not your enemy.
Ness goes to unravel the blindfold from your eyes, letting the warm glow of the many candles before you light up your field of vision. He leaves promptly, going back down the elevator and leaving you alone with the blurry figure some meters before you. Your vision clears eventually, and the scene unfurls before you much more vividly.
There stands Kaiser at the end of a magnificent carpet that tells you to come his way, dressed in a dark blue button up and black slacks with matching dress shoes. Ever the handsome fellow, you softly smile at him as you walk slowly down the carpet, never breaking eye contact with him.
It was good to make you wear white for tonight, Kaiser thinks to himself as he gets hypnotized by the way your dress flows behind you. This almost feels like practice to what's to come.
"This doesn't look like a dinner," you say softly as you take Kaiser's hand to help you up the platform.
"No, but it's something much better," he replies, a tightness in his voice that he tries to hide. "I hope."
"You hope?" you repeat, clearly amused with a singular brow raising.
"It's all going to depend on you, so don't ruin it for the both of us," Kaiser grumbles before you snort out a laugh.
Getting a hint of what's to come, you allow him to take your hand and watch as he gets down on one knee before you.
Kaiser strokes the back of your hand with his thumb, bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles softly, all the while gazing at you.
"You're the only person that's able to bring me to my knees, you know that?" he professes quietly.
You can feel a hitch in your throat when you nod, a heat forming on your cheeks.
Kaiser pauses for a bit before continuing.
"I hate you. You know," he states all too simply.
"Yes," you sigh gently, thinking about all the times that Kaiser spewed out the words whenever he got even mildly annoyed with you. "You make it very aware."
He chuckles, and you can't help but laugh as well.
"But I hate you for a good reason. You make me weak, you make my head spin with every action you do, with every word you say," continues Kaiser eventually. "You know me better than I know myself. And I don't know whether it's been in each other's lives for so long or... or if I just get so vulnerable around you."
You bite your lip in apprehension, trying to regulate your breathing when the words just flow from Kaiser's lips as he pulls out a white ring box from his pocket.
"I want to feel that way around you forever, even if it might kill me," Kaiser declares. He slowly opens the ring box to reveal a handcrafted ring that glimmers with a large sapphire gem in the middle whose blue hue reminds you of someone all the familiar. "I want you to keep making me feel so stupidly small, to keep putting me in my place when I need it. And I want to relish in it forever, just as long as its you. I want you all to myself, because only you, (Y/N) (L/N), can do this to me."
"Micha," you choke out his nickname with a voice just slightly above a whisper. The way he looks at you so dearly makes you want to burst into tears. You don't think anyone else has ever looked in your direction is such an adoring manner.
Kaiser takes a deep breath, his nerves easing themselves to a balance as he swallows his concern away, letting himself linger in the moment.
"Will you marry me?" he asks you tenderly.
He thinks that the tears that cascade down your perfect face gives him all the answer he needs, but his heart nearly leaps out of his chest when you whisper back,
"... yes."
a/n ; ITS DONE !!!! oooohhh i'm so tired asdfllksadfk my ass hurts from all the sitting
but hi if you've made it this far! im thinking of making a part two to this with a couple of more characters, but wow i will not lie this took some life out of me lolol but regardless! thank you for reading, reblogs and comments are always noticed and appreciated (っ´ω`c)♡ !!
#if this flops ill explode into smitheerens 👍#blue lock#bllk#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#isagi yoichi#isagi yoichi x reader#isagi yoichi x you#isagi x reader#isagi x you#bachira meguru#bachira meguru x reader#bachira meguru x you#bachira x reader#itoshi rin#rin itoshi#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi rin x you#rin itoshi x reader#shidou ryusei#shido ryusei#shidou ryusei x reader#shidou x reader#shidou x you#michael kaiser#michael kaiser x reader#michael kaiser x you#kaiser x reader#kaiser x you#gn!reader
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