#I miss him bc I don’t think about him enough

[joshujin]

dude, nice try! part one

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joshua hong has had the immense privilege of living 30 whole years without ever feeling so much as an ounce of jealousy. that is, until you come prancing into his picture-perfect life on your dumb burner account with evidence that his long-time girlfriend is cheating on him… with your boyfriend.

as he gets tangled up in your chaotic plan to get back at your adulterous partners, he begins to wonder if this growing discomfort in his chest was ever even heartbreak to begin with, or if it’s something entirely new to him—something that has the ability to eat him alive from the inside out.

♫ get him back! olivia rodrigo ⟡ hot girl bummer blackbear ⟡ lackin’ denise julia ⟡ mascara xg part one: 9.4k words pairing: joshua x fem!reader cw: strong language, mentions of/implied sexual activity, reader is highly emotional and tbh kind of crazy maybe even toxic but idc bc i support women’s rights and wrongs <3 tags: strangers to partners-in-crime to partners PERIOD, joshua pov, pining, he fell first AND harder oops, he’s also so incredibly whipped from the jump, a few smau bits but mostly writing, no smut, inspired by get him back! by miss rodrigo, basically john tucker must die except joshua is sophia bush hehe iykyk a/n:  as stated in the teaser, this was a request for jealous!shua, though you should consider joshua’s affair with jealousy a slow burn in this one haha. if you read the teaser, i suggest you do not skip the parts you recognize here because i did cut some stuff out for the sake of length when i posted the preview! okay enough blabbing, enjoy!

dividers by cafekitsune! cover by yours truly!

prologue

the first message from you came in the middle of the night, as if the idea of reaching out to joshua had kept you up and tortured you mercilessly until you just couldn’t physically take it anymore. in retrospect, the thought of that is silly to him considering your first and only message was ridiculous and absolutely ineffective for what you were trying to do. but it makes him smile anyway. you’re just… so you.

of course, there was also the fact that joshua had been sound asleep at 3 a.m., so your plan really wasn’t well thought out—more a product of the rage that joshua isn’t sure whether he admires or should have you committed for.

his instagram notifications had been off back then, back before he felt the need to see everything you were doing and saying and posting on the stupid app.

it made sense that he kept you waiting, not noticing your first message until about halfway through his sunday morning.

he remembers feeling like it was an unfair assessment to make of his own long-term relationship, especially coming from a stranger. he also remembers having to sit back in thought for several minutes after reading that to contemplate what on earth you could even mean.

of course he loved mina. she was his girlfriend of a little over a year. you don’t stay with someone for a whole year and not love them, right? it was such a bizarre idea to him at the time—the thought that anyone could be in a relationship and not love their partner.

unfortunately, he learned that you were right pretty early on in your friendship. you've proven it enough times now that joshua knows you often are—right.

as he sits here next to you now, frowning at the odd sensation in his chest and listening to you frantically explain yourself to the bewildered officer across from you two, he realizes that not only did he never love mina, he's also starting to wonder if he ever loved anybody.

he has let go of all his ex-girlfriends so frighteningly easily when he thinks about it. on the other hand, he’s had a single month with you and he can’t imagine his life without you in it anymore. the thought makes him nauseous.

so now, it’s not a question of whether or not he ever loved mina; he knows he didn’t. now… he’s wondering if maybe, without even knowing it, he was just letting each relationship he’s been in happen to him—if he was just passing time.

passing time until what?

he doesn’t have the courage to respond to his own thoughts with the obvious answer, but he knows it’s the wrong question.

he watches you speak at a million words a minute, your cuffed hands waving in the air erratically and your brows pinching in the middle as you plead your innocence. he was sure you thought it was a pitiable enough expression for the officer to let the two of you go, but really, it was just painfully cute.

he bites back a sigh.

yeah. it was the wrong question. passing time until *who?

one month ago

“i believe her.”

joshua looks up from where he’s pulling up your messages on his phone and glares at jeonghan. “she’s a stranger. and you haven’t even seen what she said. how on earth can you already believe her?”

his best friend shrugs casually, bringing his straw to the corner of his mouth and sipping his americano nonchalantly like they’re not discussing the possibility of joshua’s girlfriend cheating on him. “i have eyes? ears? literally any one of the five senses? pick one and it can definitely pinpoint mina for the absolute snake she is.”

“okay, you’re biased, you hate everyone i date,” he mutters, returning to his phone so he can show jeonghan your conversation—if he can even call it that. most of it was just you screaming.

“yeah,” jeonghan agrees easily. he never made an effort to mask his feelings, something joshua still wasn’t sure if he appreciated or loathed. “because you date the most vapid, boring people.”

“oh, i’m sorry my tastes aren’t up to your standards,” he snarks, not bothering to look up.

“y’know, i’m glad you apologized—someone had to,” jeonghan says dramatically, making joshua roll his eyes. “i don’t know why you keep dragging these duds not only into your life but my life as well. why should i have to suffer too? you don’t even like any of these people.”

joshua immediately puts his phone down on the table. this is now the second time in 24 hours someone has claimed he doesn’t love or like mina. jeonghan raises an eyebrow at his sudden attention.

“what makes you say i don’t like mina?” he asks, eyes narrowing.

the man sitting across from him scoffs before putting his drink down and leaning his elbows on the table. “do you like mina?” jeonghan dodges the question.

“of course i like mina,” he says incredulously. “why would i stay with her this long if i didn’t like her?”

“beats me, i’d like to know too,” he retorts.

“jeonghan.”

he sighs, knowing he’s wearing joshua’s usually never-ending patience thin today. “okay, fine. you like mina,” he says in a way that blatantly confirms he doesn’t believe him. “what exactly do you like about her?”

“what?”

“what do you like about her?” he repeats easily.

“what do you mean?” joshua asks when his best friend doesn’t clarify.

jeonghan looks at him like he has two heads. “what do you mean what do i mean?” he asks, irritated. “it’s not some kind of trick question. what do you like about your girlfriend, dude?”

joshua is dismayed at his own silence. he realizes the first things that come to mind when he thinks about mina are physical traits. he likes her long hair. he likes the way she dresses. he likes the way she does her makeup. he likes her lip gloss—wait, no, not really because she doesn’t let him kiss her when she has it on… which is almost always. sure, she’s pretty, but… what does he really like about her?

he doesn’t have the time to ask himself what it could mean that he doesn’t have a meaningful answer, and jeonghan doesn’t have the time to laugh in his face and drive his point home. because at that moment, his phone pings, and it’s one message from you, just a little over 24 hours since your last message about him being heartless went ignored.

joshua glances down and feels his stomach turn.

i have evidence.

an hour later, joshua and jeonghan are sprawled across the latter’s living room. when they’d seen your message, both of them had quickly and wordlessly vacated the cafe they were holed up in, gotten to jeonghan’s apartment frighteningly fast, and rifled through the series of messages you sent—all of them photos you took of your boyfriend’s phone screen.

at first, joshua was just annoyed at how hard snapchat made it to read messages; most of the ones sent by whoever your boyfriend was were deleted. he was ready to wave you off and call your “evidence” a reach. but then, he got to more damning photos—photos he was a little vexed jeonghan got to see too.

because they just proved his know-it-all best friend right. mina was a fucking snake.

he’s shocked at the lengths they went to to be able to communicate with each other without being caught.

but perhaps the most damning piece of evidence of them all comes last: a photo of a woman’s naked back as she laid on her side in a bed—that wasn’t joshua’s or mina’s—away from the camera. it could’ve been anyone. the small tattoo at the base of her neck told joshua exactly who it was.

it wasn’t something he could refute anymore; you were obviously not a random person and you definitely weren’t mingyu playing some kind of sick prank.

“so what now?” jeonghan asks, both of them still starfished on the floor and staring at the ceiling after spending several minutes furiously swiping and cussing at his screen. “let’s fill all her shampoo bottles with hair remover,” he answers his own question before joshua can even open his mouth. “oh! or we can follow her around, inevitably find this tool, and kidnap him! i’m sure this y/n person will appreciate that too!”

joshua doesn’t bother entertaining his best friend with a proper response, choosing to ignore the suggestions altogether. his mind is racing a mile a minute, trying to find the point in his relationship mina might have started straying away. has it been happening the entire time? or did she recently decide joshua wasn’t fulfilling her needs to her liking?

“… his car and it’ll probably break down and explode at some point later that week?”

he frowns, realizing jeonghan has been suggesting ridiculous things they can do to mina and your boyfriend the entire time he was contemplating his relationship. it’s his first time getting cheated on, but he isn’t surprised at his best friend’s reaction to it. he’s more surprised when silence blankets over them for several long seconds before jeonghan asks:

“are you okay?” he sighs. “i know that’s a dumb question to ask. you’re obviously not going to be okay after finding out your girlfriend cheated on you.”

his frown deepens at that. it’s a fair statement. he always imagined this kind of thing would throw him into some kind of jealous rage—emotions he’s not really familiar with. rage like yours.

he wonders if he had been the one to find out about this, would he have had a meltdown the way you did? make a burner account and find you to tell you the way you did? try to find someone to commiserate with—even if it’s a stranger—the way you did?

no, probably not. he was telling the truth when he told you that all he would do is break up with mina.

and he’s incredibly confused to find that, contrary to what jeonghan is saying, he feels very okay with that. he can’t really imagine caring enough to do anything more, and he doesn’t know why. shouldn’t he care more?

if you and jeonghan were wrong about him loving mina the way he was so convinced you were, why didn’t he care more?

“joshua,” jeonghan reaches over and pokes his shoulder. “speak. you’re scaring me.”

he snorts. “i’m fine.”

“okay…” he responds slowly. “so still in shock?”

“no, i really think i’m fine,” joshua says, shaking his head at the ceiling. “i feel… normal. i guess just confused about when and why she decided to cheat.”

“you did nothing wrong. she’s just a conniving, slutty ingrate who doesn’t know that she’s throwing away the most decent man in the universe,” he assures him. “which brings me back to my initial question. what should we do now to punish said conniving, slutty ingrate?”

joshua sighs. “we’re not doing anything. i am breaking up with her as soon as she gets off work.”

jeonghan perks up, rolling over onto his stomach and crawling to him until his head appears in his line of vision. his best friend has a shit-eating smile on his face that makes him instinctively roll his eyes.

“can i be there?”

he knows he should say no. it’s an absurd request and it shouldn’t even take joshua more than a second to answer. but as he thinks about it, jeonghan continuing to smile at him like a little devil on his shoulder, he thinks it might be nice to have him there and shame mina for cheating in a way he knows he doesn’t really care to do himself.

he shrugs. “sure, why not?”

jeonghan squeals with delight, scrambling to get up. “come on, we have to make sure you look smoking hot so it hurts her twice as bad. you can borrow my leather pants.”

“leather?!” joshua repeats. “it’s the middle of summer!”

joshua texted mina to let her know he wanted to talk to her after work and he would be dropping by. she told him several times that tonight wasn’t a great time and insisted they wait until tomorrow, but he couldn’t bring himself to give a shit about her convenience, so here he is, with jeonghan practically vibrating with excitement at his side, standing outside her apartment building.

“i still think you should’ve worn the leather pants,” his best friend says, “but you look killer. she’s gonna shit herself.”

joshua recoils at the idea but thanks him anyway.

“ready?”

he sighs. “yeah, i guess. ready as i’ll—oof!”

he stumbles a few steps and right into jeonghan as someone violently shoves him, continuing to push and slap at both him and his best friend until they’re several steps away from the entrance to mina’s apartment.

“what the—”

“and what the hell are you doing here?!” a female voice shrieks.

he wants to yell at this stranger for putting her hands on him. he wants to tell her to have some manners and to get away from him. at the very least, he wants to glare at her until she shrivels up in shame and scurries away. but all ideas of even attempting to do any of that die as soon as he lays eyes on the stranger.

your instagram photos don’t really do you justice (of course he looked. he really thought mingyu was pranking him and had even mentally applauded him for his effort to find a cute girl to post so consistently). your photos were well-taken and curated perfectly for your profile, but now that you were—for some weird reason—standing in front of joshua and jeonghan, he can confidently call your photos dirty liars. he can’t blame them, though. he has a feeling no camera in the world can capture how pretty you actually are in real life.

prettier than anyone i’ve ever dated, his intrusive thoughts remind him. prettier than mina.

“well?!” you screech when neither of them answer you, making them both flinch. you don’t notice your effect on them, though, because you’re busy frantically looking between them and the entrance of the building like you’re scared the three of you will be seen.

he knows jeonghan is thinking the same, exact thing he is because he is never rendered silent.

“i—uh,” joshua stammers for what he thinks might be the very first time in his life. “we…”

jeonghan glances at him, face twisted in amused confusion before he schools his expression and points his signature stunning smile at you. “you’re y/n! hi!”

“who the hell are you?” you turn back to them, cross your arms, and practically bark at him.

his best friend’s laugh is exaggerated and several decibels louder than it has any business being. it grates joshua’s nerves. he glares at him but jeonghan pays him no attention. “i like her,” he mutters to him before saying, “i’m jeonghan.”

“okay, jeonghan,” you spit his name like venom, obviously unimpressed, making him giggle.

joshua rolls his eyes at him and his increasing giddiness. his best friend doesn’t date often, but he shouldn’t be surprised that he enjoys this kind of vitriol. jeonghan is, at his core, attracted to the same chaos and mischief he himself is made of.

“what are you doing here?” you ask again, raising an eyebrow at joshua to make it clear you’re talking to him.

“i’m… here to break up,” he answers weakly. “with mina! i’m here to break up with… mina.”

he doesn’t know what’s come over him, but being confronted by you in person and unnervingly close in his vicinity has him forgetting how to properly communicate. the thought of blocking you was a lot easier when he had no idea if you were a real person. now, he feels like there’s no escaping you.

“what are you doing here?” jeonghan asks the question he forgets to return to you.

you ignore him, eyes staying trained on joshua as you speak, and something about you pretending like his best friend doesn’t exist forces him to fight down a smile.

“you’re not breaking up with her today,” you order him confidently, like you know saying it is enough for joshua to agree. if the way his palms start to sweat are a sign, you might be right. “she’s up there with siwoo.”

“who’s—”

“my boyfriend,” you answer before jeonghan can even finish his question. “i followed him here when he told me he was getting drinks with coworkers.”

joshua’s stomach flips. he’s not really sure how anyone can even think about another person in your presence, let alone cheat on you. maybe your intensity scares siwoo, though. it definitely kind of scares him.

“you mean… they’re up there right now… and they’re probably…” jeonghan’s sentence trails off, but you’re you and you don’t shy away from finishing it.

“fucking?” you ask with a biting and sarcastic enthusiasm. “yeah, jeonghan! probably!”

joshua winces. your rage was already palpable via DMs, but it’s near suffocating in person. it grabs him by the neck and shoves his face back into the dilemma he was quietly contemplating back at jeonghan’s apartment: why isn’t he sharing the same anger? why isn't he doubled over, throwing up at the idea of mina having sex with someone up in her apartment at this very moment?

“are you hungry?” you direct the question to him.

“what?” he asks dumbly.

“are. you. hungry?” you repeat, irritation laced in your voice.

“i am!” jeonghan announces.

you give him a blank stare before looking back at joshua. when he fails to say anything, you sigh, your temper appearing to deflate infinitesimally.

“they’re going to be a while,” you inform him like you’ve done this before. “there’s a fried chicken shop i like nearby.” okay, so you’ve definitely done this before. “we can eat and… talk, i guess.”

“we would love to talk. right, joshua?” jeonghan asks, pinching his side with more force than necessary. he fights to keep from jumping.

"sure," he finally agrees. "i could eat."

"thanks for ignoring me amidst my weekend-long menty b, by the way," you say sarcastically as you set down a pitcher of beer and three glasses next to the tray of friend chicken on the table.

"ment—?"

"mental breakdown," jeonghan whispers to him as he reaches to pluck a piece of fried chicken from the tray.

instead of depositing it on his own plate, he stretches across the table to put it on yours. joshua's eyes involuntarily narrow at the gesture. he doesn't realize he's glaring at his best friend until he speaks again.

"what?" he pouts at him but his eyes glint with mischief. "ladies first."

"thanks," you murmur, not-at-all sounding thankful. jeonghan snorts. "well? explain your rude behavior." he looks back over to you to find you sulking. you add more chicken to your plate even though you haven't touched the one jeonghan gave you.

"ah." joshua shakes his head. "i was just... not all the way convinced you weren't my friend trying to mess with me."

"mingyu," you say the name a lot like you said jeonghan's and for some reason, it makes him smile.

"yeah," he confirms, laughing a little. "mingyu. he's been known to play a prank or two on me."

"our joshua is just very gullible," jeonghan supplies as he serves joshua chicken now. the statement feels like a crack to the ribs. it's what mina called him when she was messaging siwoo. gullible. "so he's slow to trust."

joshua doesn't have a chance to argue that because you're, once again, ignoring jeonghan to ask him another question. "and now?"

"now what?"

"i take it you're all the way convinced?" you clarify as you tear into your first piece of chicken like you haven't eaten in years. with a full mouth, you add: "i mean, i assume you are if you're here to break up with your girlfriend."

"uh... yeah..." he nods slowly, distracted.

joshua is often described by his friends as a gentleman—elegant even. with the exception of jeonghan and mingyu—the two people who know him best—he is always polite and accommodating. he's careful that his clothes are always pressed and lint-free. he always has good posture, and he does his best to remember his table etiquette, especially in the presence of elders. he tries to be buttoned up and put-together almost all of the time, sometimes even to his own detriment.

so staring at you, wiping soy garlic sauce off your mouth with the back of your hand and talking with your pieces of chewed up chicken tucked into one, puffy cheek, he should absolutely feel repulsed.

he frowns at you and knows it probably looks like he is repulsed by you. but really, he's just confused about why you look so endearing sitting there, eating like it pains you to while taking turns glaring at your drumstick and glaring at him and his best friend.

"hello?" you wave your saucy fingers in front of joshua's face. "is he always this... spacey?" you ask jeonghan without taking your eyes off him.

"i'm glad you asked! no," the man next to him answers—also through cheeks full of chicken. "i've actually never seen him this nerv—"

"sorry, what were you saying?" joshua interjects before everyone at this table, including him, has to face the fact that yes, he is very much nervous and he's unsure why.

you sigh as you wipe your fingers on a napkin. "what is it about me that men's eyes just begin to glaze over as soon as my mouth opens?" you complain, the signature rage joshua has come to expect from you in the one hour he's known you bubbling back to the surface.

his eyes widen in horror at the thought of you mistaking his fascination with disinterest. "oh! i didn't—no, i'm not—i—"

"what joshua is trying and failing miserably to say," jeonghan cuts in, sneaking him a look that screams get it together, "is that no one here is ignoring you. he's just... trying to process all of this. after all, you had all weekend to think about this, and he just realized you were telling the truth, what? two hours ago?"

you stare at jeonghan with the same unimpressed expression you’ve been forcing on him since you met him. after a moment, your gaze travels to joshua, and he gives you a meek smile. you finally hum in understanding.

“sorry, i know i’m projecting. i’m just all…” you wave your hand wildly near your temple to mimic a muddled brain. “siwoo has done a number on me.”

joshua finally gains enough composure to string a sentence together. “i’m sorry i ignored your messages… and blocked your burner account.” you cringe at that but nod an acceptance of his apology. “and i’m sorry i’m not fully present right now. jeonghan’s right.”

kind of. not really. he was processing your existence more than he was processing being cheated on, to be frank.

“i’m just… trying to understand what’s happening, i guess. for what it’s worth, i find it really unbelievable that anyone would ever cheat on you.”

he ignores the way jeonghan inhales deeply and slowly through his nose. only joshua would be able to tell it’s the equivalent of him scream-giggling and kicking his feet when he’s trying to be discreet.

your eyebrows rise like you’re shocked joshua is capable of more than grunts and one-word replies.

“ditto,” you say plainly. joshua can’t help the immediate laugh that escapes his mouth at that, and he’s pleased when you smile for the first time since you met. “mina seems dumb. and not just because she and siwoo are ruining my life. you’re very handsome. and if you blocking me on instagram so fast is any indication, you seem very loyal too.”

you say it easily, as if giving out compliments like that is no big deal to you. maybe it isn’t, but even if that’s true, he’s going to appreciate it nonetheless.

unfortunately, that appreciation manifests in a fierce blush joshua feels spreading across his face like wildfire, much to his mortification. he doesn’t remember the last time he blushed like a pathetic schoolboy with a crush. it was probably when he was an actual pathetic schoolboy with a crush.

he clears his throat, choosing to ignore the compliment. “yeah, i guess we have the same, bad taste in dummies.”

you suddenly groan, throw your head back, and blink rapidly at the ceiling like you're trying your best not to cry. both men glance at each other and fidget awkwardly at the abrupt change of mood, neither of them being great at handling a crying woman. joshua has little to no experience with it and jeonghan tends to fall back on ill-timed jokes during times of distress.

"i followed him here months ago," you tell them unprompted. “i followed him here so many times because he was always so fucking sketchy. but his lie always involved ‘one of the guys,’ so i just thought his friend lived in that building.”

“and you found out this weekend…?” jeonghan asks carefully. joshua rubs the back of his neck nervously.

you nod, squeezing your eyes shut briefly before bringing your line of sight back to them. your eyes are glassy but your efforts to keep from crying were mostly successful.

“he lent me his laptop because mine stopped working,” you explain, rolling your eyes like having a broken laptop on top of all this is almost enough to send you over the edge. “his texts are connected on there too. i was at a cafe with a friend, and one of those verification texts came through. i ignored it but a few seconds later, it messaged again and i saw that he’d replied on his phone.”

“he told her it was safe to text,” joshua says, remembering the photos you sent.

“yeah…” you breathe, hugging yourself tightly and rubbing your arms as you try to self-soothe. “and i just sat there in front of my friends, watching him make plans with her in real time… brainstorm the lies they agreed to tell us… and i just had to pretend to be normal or else i would’ve burned that cafe to the ground.”

jeonghan coughs as he chokes on his chicken a little. joshua pats him on the back absentmindedly, eyes never leaving you, even as his best friend stretches across him, still coughing, to pour everyone a glass of beer. you sniffle as you accept your glass with a small nod, your body visibly relaxing as you take your first sip. he tries not to gawk when you down it all in one go.

joshua thinks this is probably what someone in love should look like when their heart has been broken: drunk and sad. now that the initial shock of seeing you in person has worn off, he can see how tired you really look. there are dark, bruising circles under your eyes, visible even under your makeup, and your hair looks like it was haphazardly put up into a ponytail to avoid having to wash or brush it. your eyes are tinged pink, a little swollen, and dull, like you’ve been crying all weekend. you have been crying all weekend.

and joshua? he’s asking himself why he hasn’t felt the urge to cry at all yet because right now, he could be the poster child for soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend who is going to be okay has been okay, is okay, and will always be okay. aside from his irritation with mina and her insane audacity, today is like any other day.

he’s never had his heart broken before this, but maybe it’s just different for guys. he read somewhere that men’s emotional intelligence develop a lot slower than women’s; maybe he just hasn’t reached a level of maturity you have.

“anyway,” you say as you stifle a tiny burp that makes jeonghan giggle for the nth time tonight, “i’m going to ruin his life.”

okay, so maybe maturity is the wrong word.

“wh…” joshua glances at jeonghan for confirmation he heard correctly.

his best friend’s eyes are lit up with excitement as he leans forward with impossibly even more interest in what the pretty lady across the table has to say. joshua would slap him if they were alone. what for, he doesn’t know, but he would.

“sorry, what was that?” he asks, trying not to sound judgmental at the risk of setting your anger off again.

“she’s going to ruin his life,” jeonghan answers for you giddily. “what are you going to do? i told joshua he should fill mina’s shampoo bottle with hair remover.”

that earns the two men another smile from you, but this time, joshua finds himself annoyed it was because of something jeonghan said.

“oh my god, that’s vile,” you say even though you’re grinning and obviously love the idea. “maybe i’ll add that as a little cherry on top for siwoo.”

“oh, he’ll be so ugly,” jeonghan claims like he’s already daydreaming about it.

“you don’t even know what he looks like,” joshua murmurs.

“i don’t need to,” he responds, smiling as he stares off into the distance. “a stupid motherfucker who can cheat on our lovely y/n, here, like that has to look like ass.”

you roll your eyes at the compliment but your cheeks turn a cute shade of pink anyway.

“well, making him bald will look like child’s play when i’m done with him,” you match jeonghan’s dreamy tone, and joshua feels a chill of fear from having the two of you at the same table crawl up his spine. why was he a magnet for agents of chaos?

“is that why you haven’t broken up?” he asks. “you’re scheming to ruin his life?”

you frown. “what makes you think we haven’t broken up?”

joshua shrugs. “maybe the fact that you followed him here and then shoved me and my best friend into next week to keep us from attracting any attention?”

jeonghan snickers and your cheeks turn a darker shade.

“ah, right.” you nod once. “sorry about that.” you don’t look sorry at all and joshua finds himself thinking it’s amusing. “i suppose that was a bit… rude.”

joshua hums like he’s contemplating your apology but he knows it’s clear he’s fighting a smile as he brings his beer to his lips.

you sigh. “anyway, yes. that’s why i’m still with him. he doesn’t even know i know. i’m trying to get my ducks in a row and figure out the most devastating way to leave him.”

jeonghan smirks. “my kind of girl.”

joshua’s foot finds his best friend’s and stomps on it as hard as he can without thinking twice about it. it almost shocks him—how much it felt like instinct—but after the day he’s had, he thinks he’s entitled to a bit of a tantrum. maybe this is how he is when his heart is broken. a little mean.

“ow, what the fu—”

“so what’s the plan?” joshua asks loudly when your eyes snap up to jeonghan mid-sip over the glass of your beer.

you lick your lips clean of foam before setting the glass down, and joshua forces himself to look away when he notices how plump and pink they are.

“well, to be honest… i haven’t been the smartest,” you admit, seeming timid for the first time since you barged into his DMs. it’s an odd look on you. “i—um. i kind of rely on him… financially.”

the explanation comes tumbling past your lips after that like you’re afraid the two of them are going to judge you if you allow even a second of silence to pass.

“i had a job! i had a great job! but siwoo’s a bit traditional, and he comes from a more conservative family that really buys into gender roles, and i mean, fuck that, right?”

you give them no chance to agree.

“i’m a feminist! i swear to god i’m a fucking feminist!” you’re practically shouting now and the two men are so stunned, they can’t bring themselves to notice or care that the other patrons of the restaurant are starting to look over. “but i was in love! and i thought i was going to marry this moron! so i convinced myself i wanted to stay home and i wanted to clean the house and take care of a man—”

you say the word with so much disgust, both joshua and jeonghan struggle to keep from laughing.

“—and he was so happy when i quit my job like he’s been asking me to, and i thought i was happy too, like, what woman doesn’t want to be taken care of by a rich man?!”

you pause to burp briefly but it still isn’t enough time for either of them to get a word in.

“though again, i was in love! i was looking at that shithead through rose-tinted glasses! he’s nothing but a spoiled mama’s boy with a rich family! that asshole doesn’t have to do anything for the wealth he has! so, like, really… what woman wants to be fake-taken-care-of by a 30-something-year-old mama’s boy?!”

the words come with even more disgust than “man.”

“and he had the nerve to act like he was better than me because i had to work for everything i had before him! like, dude. if your bank account is still connected to your fucking mom’s, lower your goddamn voice when speaking to me!”

his best friend’s mouth drops open in absolute joy-filled shock at your biting remark. he’s enjoying meeting someone as chaotic as he is too much.

“and what was it for?! empty promises that he would propose soon?! endless faked orgasms for a man who’s afraid to give a woman head?!”

jeonghan chokes again, this time on nothing. joshua has more decorum but he can’t help the way his face turns bright red.

“you’d swear i was harboring a monster down there the way he cringed at the mere mention of oral, like, what is he, 12?!”

joshua has to avert his eyes to the ceiling of the restaurant at the mention of your “monster,” and he can’t even get it together long enough to nudge jeonghan when he bursts into hysterical laughter. they might as well be nonexistent, though, because you keep barreling through your rant.

“i was on track to be a director before 30! i was a fucking star! and look what he made me!” you screech, words slurring.

it takes your slurred speech and yet another burp for joshua to realize with mild horror that the pitcher of beer is almost empty, and that he and jeonghan are still on their first glasses. he elbows his best friend, who’s still cackling, and motions at the pitcher. jeonghan sighs happily as the last of his laughter leaves him and mutters a quiet: holy shit, pretty aggretsuko can drink.

“he turned me into a housewife! and i remind you: I AM A FEMINIST!” you slam your palms against the table to each word to punctuate your point. joshua can see why you picked aggretsuko for your burner account. “i support a woman’s choice to be a housewife if that’s what she wants, but my dumb ass didn’t realize that this isn’t the life i wanted until this fucking weekend! god!” you groan miserably. “all of this heartache and for what?! he cheated on me and now i’m jobless and about to be homeless and completely broke, and i…”

you abruptly run out of steam, slumping in your seat and looking at your near-empty glass of beer pitifully. joshua has the urge to round the table and give you a hug, but he stays put, trying to process the whiplash of witnessing what he imagines is a mini “menty b.”

you take a few breaths before quietly saying, “i can’t believe this is what being in love got me.”

something violently lurches inside joshua’s chest when you say that.

“i can’t believe something that’s supposed to be as beautiful as love blinded me so badly.” your voice cracks. your eyes well with tears and this time, you make no move to stop them as they begin to streak your face. “how the hell can love hurt this much?”

joshua’s mouth falls open to say something—anything. any kind of comfort or kindness or advice. but no sound escapes his lips as he watches your heart break into tiny, little pieces in front of him.

he’ll look back at this moment and realize this was the first time his heart knew something before he, himself, did: what he had with mina wasn’t love—that he had actually never even been in love before. there’s no world where mina would ever have the kind of effect siwoo has on you on him, and there isn't anything mina can do that would make joshua scorn the concept of love because it's something he never even experienced with her in the first place.

but for now, all he can think is that, despite barely knowing you and despite being somewhat afraid of you, he has an insatiable want to fix this for you. he wants you to stop crying. he wants to see the rare smiles they were gifted tonight on your face once more. most of all, he wants to make the man who made you cry sorry for ever entering your life.

the words are out of his mouth before he can think twice about them.

“i’ll help you.” you immediately stop crying and look up at him with wide eyes. “i’ll help you ruin this idiot’s life. and when the two of us are through with him, i promise you he’ll be afraid to breathe within a 10-mile vicinity of you.”

joshua is surprised you haven’t already responded to tease him about his fickle typing bubbles because for the last ten minutes, he’s tried and stopped, tried and stopped (stopped, stopped, stopped) to find a response to your question that was not only honest with you, but with himself.

it’s not lost on him how unconcerned and unbothered he was with the repulsive and heinous death his relationship suffered last night. jeonghan made sure to point it out the entire way home, all while nearly choking him and stimming his socked, shoeless feet against his torso during his piggyback ride.

“so are we going to talk about the fact that you had zero reaction to mina having a guy up in her apartment?” jeonghan muttered not one minute after demanding joshua carry him home.

“we were in the presence of a stranger,” joshua grumbled, adjusting jeonghan higher on his back. “how should i have reacted?”

jeonghan hummed in thought. “i guess if it were me, i wouldn’t have really cared about strangers. i would’ve started with busting into her apartment and hoping you were present to keep me from committing second-degree murder. that’s a start, no?”

joshua sighed. “you’ve known me practically my entire life. i’ve never been like that.”

“i know.”

he said it in a resigned way, as if a visceral reaction was a healthy one and joshua was depriving himself. as if jeonghan wanted more for him—like he wanted him to cause a scene and make a fuss. the thought confused him but he stayed silent as his best friend continued.

“i kind of just… i don’t know, worry?” 

joshua smiled. he could practically hear the wince on jeonghan’s face from having to be serious as he spoke. 

“i lowkey expected a meltdown like y/n’s from you at my place. are you sure you’re okay? i feel like i’m waiting for the aftershock of an earthquake.”

“are you saying you think i’m emotionally repressed?” he asked, putting the pieces together and saying what jeonghan was dancing around.

“well, if you think that’s what i’m saying, who am i to argue with your interpretation of my words?” 

he snickered. “i literally cried when you told me about that deep-sea anglerfish that swam to the surface of the ocean to see the sun before it died. i wouldn’t call myself emotionally repressed.”

“okay, repressed isn’t the right word,” jeonghan conceded. “it’s just—ugh, hold on.”

he suddenly started wriggling in his hold, obviously asking to be let down without vocalizing it. joshua squatted down to let him off his back, and before he could straighten all the way up, jeonghan had him by the shoulders and was turning him around almost violently.

“ungh!” joshua grunted as he came face-to-face with him.

“listen,” he said, capturing joshua’s face between his hands, forcing his wide, surprised eyes to meet jeonghan’s. “i’m going to ask you something seriously, and i want you to answer just as seriously, okay?”

joshua frowned. “okay…”

jeonghan nodded curtly once before speaking. “your girlfriend of over a year is cheating on you.”

“dude. i kn—”

“uh-uh, i’m speaking,” he deadpanned, tapping a finger against joshua’s temple. 

he sighed. “okay, go on.”

“your girlfriend of over a year is cheating on you,” he repeated, this time slower and with more emphasis, as if it was something he was convinced joshua didn’t totally understand. “she went out of her way to sneak behind your back, and not only lie to—your—face!” he practically shouted. “but laugh about lying to your face with that scumbag asshole. and when you went over to break up with her, she was entertaining her side-piece in her apartment!”

joshua fidgeted under his hold. having it repeated like this did hurt him, and although he spent a lot of this time wondering why he wasn’t as affected as you were, he felt a little sad and lonely now, standing there being reminded that his relationship just imploded.

“in all of this,” jeonghan continued, “the most reaction i saw from you was some quiet cussing when we looked through y/n’s screenshots, and i know you’re capable of being upset.” he smirked. “anglerfish aside, i know that you can express emotion healthily. so…” he took a deep breath.

when he didn’t say anything for several seconds, obviously hesitating, joshua raised his eyebrows. “so…?” 

jeonghan’s gaze flicked down to him from where he had been frowning at nothing above his head.

“so…” he inhaled slowly. “do you think you really… truly loved mina?”

he hadn’t been able to answer a barefoot jeonghan last night, and even after tossing and turning for hours and thinking of nothing else this morning, joshua finds that he still doesn’t have an answer.

if he measured love by how heartbroken someone was after it ended, he’d say you were (are?) madly in love with siwoo and he’s basically been in a committed friendship with mina—apparently a shitty one at that. but is that even the proper way to measure love? did the way he cared for mina for the past year count for nothing? a tender, aching hurt bloomed in his chest when jeonghan stopped him and forced him to look at his love life closely, and it has just grown since then. he doesn’t know if it’s telling him that love is more than the way it ends or if it’s telling him he’s been living life without it.

the jarring sound of his phone ringing interrupts his introspection, and he’s startled to find your contact on the incoming call. he quietly gets up from his desk and vacates his cubicle, where he has been neglecting his work to figure out a way to respond to you. he slips into one of the office’s private phone rooms and answers.

“hello…?” he rolls his eyes at how confused his sounds. smooth.

“you’re taking ages to reply,” you inform him, forgoing a normal greeting. “thought i’d call and see what has you so committed to sending me nothing but typing bubbles.”

joshua sighs harder than he needs to, sinking into the seat in the booth. “do you have nothing better to do than stare at my messages and wait for a reply?”

“no,” you scoff. “should i remind you i’m a stay-at-home girlfriend?” you spit the words out like you’re ashamed of them. he knows that you are and winces, silently chiding himself for the poorly timed joke. “i’m not doing anything for that cheater and his apartment while i have to continue living in this hellhole.”

“fair,” joshua says quickly. “sorry. forgot for a second.”

you snort. “it’s fine. what are you thinking about?”

“um, i’m at work, so… work?”

“no, dude, in regard to my question,” you remind him, laughing. he squeezes his eyes shut and tries not to groan. he knows he’s not doing a good job of convincing you that you don’t make him nervous. “why are you overthinking your answer so hard?”

“i’m not overthinking,” he mutters petulantly. “i’m just…”

“thinking overly hard?”

he hates that he cracks a smile at that. “fine, i might be overthinking.”

“oh! well, welcome to my page. i’m glad we’re now on the same one.” he can’t help but grin even wider at your apparently never-ending well of sarcasm. “so what are we overthinking about?”

we. you just met last night—barely agreed to help each other last night—and already, there’s a we. and already, joshua feels comfortable with the notion of that.

he shrugs even though you can’t see him. he slides down until his neck meets the curve of his seat and he stares at the ceiling as he speaks. “i was there to break up with her last night.”

you hum. “i remember. and you still want to.”

it’s more an observation than a question.

“well, i guess that’s what i’m overthinking about.”

“bro, i get it,” you say, shuffling around in what he assumes is your bed. he narrows his eyes at the word bro. “staying with your awful partner and pretending like everything’s okay when all you want to do is strangle him is certainly not for the weak.”

“okay well, thankfully, i don’t want to strangle mina.”

you laugh again and he suddenly wishes he’d gotten to see and hear you do that in person last night. “so what do you want to do to mina?” you ask as the sounds of you moving around the apartment come through the phone. “please don’t say nothing. i already feel like a horrible enough person as it is.”

the statement derails joshua’s train of thought. “why do you feel like a horrible person?”

“probably because i’m committed to doing whatever it takes to burn siwoo’s life to the ground instead of just breaking up with him and moving on like a normal, well-adjusted adult, and if you say ‘nothing,’ it will just remind me moving on is exactly what i’m supposed to be doing. and i don’t want to do that! not without fucking some lives up first!” you end your ramble with a grunt of frustration.

“i don’t think that makes you horrible,” joshua counters. “i think that just makes you… human? i feel like the normal reaction is to want to hurt someone as badly as they hurt you, right?”

at least from how joshua sees it, he thinks that’s probably the normal reaction. if jeonghan’s pressing questions say anything, it’s that his lack of reaction isn’t normal.

the sounds in the background pause like you’ve stopped to think about what he said. after a few moments, your only response is: “thanks.”

“i’m just being honest.”

“i know. thanks for saying it anyway,” you sigh as you continue to do whatever you were doing. “well?”

“well, what?”

“you haven’t answered my question.” you repeat it for him. “what do you want to do about mina?”

he groans, letting his eyes fall shut. “i want to break up with her and forget she happened.”

“do all men move on that fast?” you ask, sounding genuinely curious. “like, do you all just decide you don’t love someone anymore and move on after, like, a week?”

“i’m not moving on fast,” he argues, opening his eyes once more and sitting up. “i just want to give myself a chance to move on at all.”

“so mature of you,” you comment. something tells him you don’t believe that, though, and you prove him right with your next sentence. “or you just don’t love mina as much as you think you do.”

“what is with you guys and insisting i didn’t love my long-term girlfriend?” he complains.

“who’s ‘you guys’?” you sound too excited to realize more than one person in his life has made this observation about his relationship.

“nobody,” he practically hisses, not wanting to give you and jeonghan something to bond over and tease him about. 

if he had his way, he’d probably make it so that you two never hung out again; your threatening energy as a duo honestly freaked him out a little and something about the way his best friend acted around you irritated him to no end. but he knows that helping you with siwoo will probably entail jeonghan butting in somewhere at some point.

“i loved mina, okay?” he insists, annoyed with the way he sounds like he’s trying to convince not only you but himself. “why do you even think otherwise?”

he doesn’t think he needs to point out that ultimately, you two don’t really know each other. you don’t have enough evidence to make such a massive assumption about him.

“i don’t know,” you mumble, “ugh.” he hears something clink against what sounds like porcelain. “i guess i’m having a hard time knowing that i’m devolving into this… child who’s having a world-war-sized tantrum, but someone who’s going through the same, exact thing i am is able to handle his emotions maturely... and gracefully… and just walk away. you’re so level-headed. meanwhile, i feel like my anger is consuming me.”

he rolls his lips over his teeth and bites, like that will help him from saying something too intimate to someone who’s still virtually a stranger. he suddenly feels sad for you again. it shoves away the newly formed pain in his chest that jeonghan forced there last night and burrows deep in his ribs the same way it did when he was watching you sob over fried chicken and beer.

“it’s kind of funny,” he starts, his voice soft and hesitant. “i thought something was wrong with me for not reacting the way you were.”

“nothing’s wrong with you,” you assure him. “sorry, i know me joking that you didn’t love mina probably makes you feel that way. i’m just trying to find an excuse for why you’re doing this so well and i’m… not. guess it’s easier to tell myself you’re moving on so fast because you didn’t love her in the first place.”

“you know,” joshua starts making his own observation as he thinks about the way you apologized for projecting your feelings about siwoo on him last night, “you’re super self-aware.”

“pfft, well as my therapist would point out, what good does that do if i’m aware i’m being self-destructive and i do it anyway?”

he smiles. “does that make me an accomplice to your self-destruction?”

“of course. you’re still willing to help with project destroy-siwoo-and-maybe-y/n-in-the-process, though, right?”

he grins wider. “of course,” he parrots before getting serious again. “but hey, i’m definitely not a good bar to set yourself against when it comes to break-ups. i’ve had too many to be someone you want to compare yourself to. you’re not not doing well.” he frowns at himself. super eloquent, joshua. “i think you’re handling this as best as you can. plus, i’m not going to pretend like siwoo doesn’t deserve everything that’s coming to him.”

you giggle like the thought of siwoo’s life crashing to the ground excites you. he knows it does. “okay, well if you’re committed to enabling me, i’m not going to make you stop.” joshua laughs loudly at that and you join in. “you have a nice laugh,” you tell him once you both stop.

“yah,” he whines. “are you always so bold?”

“didn’t we already establish that i am? what’s the big deal, anyway? i think we should all compliment each other more. it balances out my devotion to rage and revenge.”

he shakes his head, smiling once more. his cheeks are beginning to hurt. “fine. i’ll try to get used to it.”

“good!” you chirp as he hears more clinking in the background.

“what are you doing, by the way?”

“uh, i’ll tell you later,” you give him a non-answer before quickly directing his attention elsewhere. “so are we leaving mina out of this? should i just let you move on and grieve however emotionally healthy people grieve and tear up the mina section of my revenge plans?”

he snorts. “wow, okay, i need to stop letting your antics surprise me.”

“i agree. it’ll make this friendship easier for you.”

“i’ll bite. what’s in the mina section?”

“oh, nothing huge yet since i know nothing about her. i have jeonghan’s brilliant hair remover bit in there though.”

joshua glares at the wall across from him. he agrees that jeonghan is generally brilliant but he’s irked to hear you say it anyway. “right.”

“mhm,” you hum. 

“well,” joshua sighs, knowing that after several minutes on the phone with you, he has yet to give you an answer and he should really get back to work. “i guess that’s what makes the most sense for me. tearing up the mina section of the plan.”

honestly, nothing really sounds better to him than getting her out of his hair. 

“okay,” you agree quickly. “i can’t lie, i’m a bit disappointed because the scorned woman in me of course also wants to ruin mina’s life, but you’re the boss.”

he has no idea why he’s the boss when this is all your master plan, but he appreciates the grace you give him. he knows it’s probably not easy for you to redirect your disdain for mina and refrain from including her in your mission to ruin lives. well, life—one life: siwoo’s. 

“at least i can keep my girl’s girl reputation in tact.” 

he smiles at your priorities: 1. ruin siwoo’s life 2. remain a girl’s girl.

“exacting revenge on mina would do nothing to your girl’s girl reputation,” he assures you. “she’s the one who isn’t being a girl’s girl. she’s the asshole here.”

“oooh,” you sing, very clearly delighted, “joshie’s getting mad!”

he’s glad you’re not here to see him blush for no reason. when he’s too flustered to respond, you chuckle.

“i guess we don’t really need to go after mina, anyway, huh? you’re probably just as angry at siwoo for stealing her away too,” she thinks aloud.

he stills. 

joshua is a little embarrassed to admit he didn’t even consider that. he’s typically a proud man—humble and grounded, but he takes pride in himself nonetheless. is it weird that he didn’t think twice about the fact that siwoo disrespected him and his relationship by pursuing mina? up until now, his anger was mostly feeding off of your sadness.

“joshua?” 

“uh, yeah,” he stammers. “yeah. siwoo’s enough.”

“figured. we’ll make him pay real good for the both of us then.”

joshua nervously squirms in his seat. “yup. well, i should get back to work,” he says awkwardly. if you notice, you don’t point it out for once. “let me know what we should do next whenever you’re ready.”

he can practically hear the smile in your voice. “okay, and you let me know how breaking up with mina goes.”

if he had his wits about him, he'd probably give you shit for sounding so happy about the looming end, but he doesn't. so all he does say is:

“bye, y/n.”

“later!”

just a few moments later, he’s back in his cubicle when another text from you comes in.

he wasn’t scared, just like he wasn’t annoyed that you ate like you were discovering food for the first time. the right word didn't come to him until he was almost done with the report he had been working on before you texted: he was charmed.

a/n: thanks for waiting! hope you liked it! as you can probably tell, this is already way longer than i planned on it being so i’m not entirely sure how many parts this will be, but it’s my priority fic rn so i’ll work hard on updates! for now, keep reading to see a teaser for the next part! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

if you’d like to be added to the tag list, comment here or send me an ask! if you requested to be on the list but weren’t tagged in this post or the reblog, it’s bc you don’t have an age indicator on your page. pls add that if you want to be tagged next time.

part two teaser

and when he felt a little better in his own skin and ready to put a “realer” version of himself out there, he met mina. mina, his longest relationship, and up until now, someone he was convinced was his first love. he said as much anyway. he was the first to tell her he loved her, he reminded her he did every day, and he thought they had a nice, long future ahead of them. what he pictured in that future exactly, he had no clue. but after an odd and somewhat unlucky streak in dating, he finally felt like mina was a nice and comfy place to land.

he’s never been more wrong about something in his entire life. 

and after the laughable amount of breakups he’s experienced, he’s also never been angrier after the end of a relationship in his entire life.

mina was proving to be a lot of firsts for him—first cheater, first master manipulator and liar, first person who’s ever made him wonder if he could possibly switch over to dating men instead… or simply stop dating at all! sure, he would die alone but he would die in peace. 

whatever the case, he's quickly approaching the conclusion that “first love” is not among those firsts, and it probably never was. no amount of teasing from you or jeonghan did it, but in less than a handful of minutes spent breaking up with mina, he is a million percent sure this was not someone he could have loved. or else what did that say about him and his taste?

sixteen minutes earlier

joshua arrives at mina’s apartment exactly two hours after work ends for her—5 p.m. every day because she always scheduled a pilates class at 5:30 p.m. thirty minutes for her to get to her class, one hour for her to finish it, 30 minutes for her to get home, zero minutes for her to get clean because he doesn’t care how presentable she is when he dumps her. 

plus, however long it takes joshua to end this.

he hadn’t bothered to tell her he was coming over; he didn’t think she really deserved that courtesy. he may be intent on a clean break, but he also wanted this to be as annoying for her as it has been for him.

so at a prompt 7 p.m., joshua finds himself casually leaning against the elevator’s railing, ascending the floors of mina’s apartment and feeling almost excited to be free of this experience. 

after he got off the phone with you, he decided he would bite the bullet when work was over. he spent the rest of his day absentmindedly finishing his reports, periodically stopping to scribble an idea for what he would say to his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend.

he takes the folded piece of paper out of his pocket now and runs over his options again.

his levels of shame and self-pity were sky high when he first pulled out his notepad at the office to write his thoughts out, but after texting you and letting you know what he planned to do, you insisted on meeting at a cafe beforehand to brainstorm together while he waited for mina’s pilates class to end. and once you both workshopped the entire list, his embarrassment diminished almost completely.

it was clear you took this a lot more seriously than he did. he doesn't know what he expected; you probably have a manila folder stuffed full of notes for what you plan to do to siwoo.

as such, you were very helpful. sure, you were also really distracting, with your subtle, spiced perfume he recognized as lola james harper, and your daunting and unrelenting eye contact, and the way your eyes smiled all on their own when they weren’t busy crying over siwoo, and the fact that you graced him with your laugh in person for the first time (every bit as fun as he thought it would be), and everything else that came with just existing in your presence.

all of it was really distracting—almost to the point of it being entirely counterproductive for him. almost, if it weren’t for the fact that you were so determined on his behalf to make this the most unpleasant experience for mina. he was mostly pleased with where you two landed, and if anything, he at least had a better idea of what he wanted to say. he reads the completely ruined paper, a mess of his black ink and wrinkles where you kept trying to grab the paper out of his hands. it was already a vulnerable enough occasion talking about this with you; he did not need you seeing his notes on top of it.

TALKING POINTS FOR BREAKING UP WITH EVIL GF i know you’ve been cheating on me, and don’t try to deny it because someone sent me proof! — cannot say this without exposing that y/n knows about siwoo!!! i know you’ve been cheating on me, and don’t try to deny it because i went through your phone and saw your text messages! — better, but am i willing to look crazy just to cover for y/n? yes what am i saying NO this will do ✓ how could you do this to us, mina? i loved you! — seems disingenuous? note: yell at jeonghan and y/n for putting ideas in my head later! i literally gave you everything you could’ve wanted, and that still wasn’t enough? what does any other man have that i don’t? — ok met with y/n for feedback. she says this sounds pathetic and that i can't let her think this has affected me. but she cheated on me? this LITERALLY affects me. i will come back to this one ok y/n made a different, better point: i am perfect and i should not present myself as lacking. so true. she's very good at this! do you really think anyone with half a fucking brain cell who's willing to homewreck a relationship is really going to give enough of a fuck about you to be capable of putting up with your insufferable ass and treating you as well as i did? — y/n suggested this one. had to workshop bc she's alarmingly vulgar. plus, it sounds a little toxic to say i "put up" with mina ??? not sure do you even regret hurting me? — y/n says this is silly bc siwoo and mina obviously do not regret anything, but i told her i do want mina to feel guilty even if i'm not sure that i'm all that hurt. she now agrees and says i should add: "or are you just so heartless you don't care?" she said this more colorfully, but i will remain respectful why should i remain respectful? mina is literally the most disrespectful person i have ever met. i will say what y/n suggested: ↳ my bad, i forgot your commitment to being a heartless fucking asshole has you by your ugly ass neck and it's squeezing with both hands and i hope it kills you GET HELP! — more for catharsis. will not be yelling this at her you're going to regret this and if you think there's a world where i take you back when you do, you're mistaken — wow, no notes from y/n! must be very good. definitely say this one!! please never contact me again — note from y/n: "why are you being so goddamn polite? tell her to fuck off and if you ever see her number on your phone screen, you'll set up an appointment on her behalf to get a lobotomy." ????? note from ME: have a serious discussion with y/n at a later time about why i, a MAN, can't just talk to WOMEN like this!

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[janestvalentine]

I couldn't decide which tags I wanted to reblog this post with...so I decided to do all of them:

#rimi talks#like you can absolutely get into discussion of copaganda in comics and the authorial end editorial centrism, #because god knows a lot of comics (esp older ones) just absolutely REEK of performative activism or copaganda or what have you, #and there is definitely plenty to be said there, #but that's not what people saying this stuff are talking about 😭, #it's all just ''but i want the white man to kill a crowd of evil goons but it's fine bc none of their lives mattered bc they got in his way!, #and don't worry he was unquestionably right to have killed them and it was really cool and sexy of him to do so and also he was right'', #(now don't take this as me disagreeing that fictional murder can be sexy. of course it can. ive seen pamela isley.), #(but while i would call her sexy i would not call her RIGHT for being a murderous ecofascist yk), (x)

#'but you see this guy is making the world better by killing people, #bc he's only killing the really bad guys like the sex offenders and paedophiles and rapists', #buddy. please tell me which demographics are most likely to be accused of paedophilia and rape., #i cannot emphasise enough that if you go into superhero comics and then get annoyed bc the characters don't kill people, #maybe you just don't like superhero comics., #and also i don't like you., (x)

#LITERALLY, #also: ever heard of the brutalizing effect? there’s really conflicting evidence about whether execution BY THE STATE even ‘works’, #as a deterrent against crime, #(and is in practiced applied really racistly but anyway), #and ur telling me u want VIGILANTES to kill their enemies???? like now uve created a norm where superheroes can kill villains without, #due process and now both villains and goons are NAWT going to surrender peacefully to superheroes bc theyll be scared of. yk. GETTING THEIR, #HEAD CHOPPED OFF, #wait sorry that’s not even the main mechanism behind the brutalizing effect i was just also saying that would also fuck up superhero’s MAIN, #priority: um? fucking making the streets safer? if the villains are worried about their safety after getting defeated then they’re gonna go, #even more all out before going out #anyway brutalizing effect is when the people who will commit violent crimes are NOT deterred by executions of convicted felons, #bc they don’t identify with the convicted felon they identify with the executioner, #also. obvi. parallels to police brutality if superheroes killed., #but even besides that like why would superheroes want to create a norm of killing. they would not want to normalize killing., (x)

#yeah‚ this! precisely this is such a succinct and effective wording of this exact problem, #like. doing the above is/would be no different to watching every movie billed as a chick flick hoping for a bodice ripper, #yeah if you try hard enough you'll find what you're looking for a couple of times, #but you've fundamentally misunderstood what it is this genre can do for you. congrats you missed the thesis, #go read jack reacher number three hundred and four or smth, (x)

#people who act like its bad that batman realises the value in every humans life, #like be so fr, #yeah jokers awful but why do you only put the blame on batman, #what about the gcpd's role or the legal system not sentencing him the death penalty? thats the real reason jokers alive after all he's done, #but sure blame the vigilante, #why do you want your superheros to be murderers? the people that kids are supposed to look for as symbols of hope and justice?, #you want superheros... to be murderers., #think about that for a second, (x)

#it’s like going into a bakery and hating all the cakes there, #honestly i love the hardship that comes from those decisions of to spare not kill etc., #seeing how it takes a toll both physically and mentally on characters and yet they keep pushing through regardless, #it’s what made me realize i like Superman and Superboy tbh, (x)

people who go into superhero comics (the "heroes don't kill" genre, where (admittedly, often very flawed) discussion of the morality of taking a life and themes of lawfulness, vigilanteism, and redemption are like the entire foundations of the genre) and then get pissy about how they want edgier protagonists who kill their enemies. bro just go watch Generic Action Blockbuster #74821384

[jks1uv]

𝑀𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑇𝑟𝑢𝑠𝑡 ; tasm!peter parker | one-shot |

summary: benjamin pointdexter has chosen his object of affection obsession and it’s you, but not if peter parker can help it!

pairing: gf!fem!reader x bf!tasm!peter parker + platonic fem!reader x matthew murdock + platonic fem!reader x frank castle.

trope: established relationship.

genre: fluff + mild angst + hurt / comfort + some comedic relief.

warnings‼️: crude language + mentions of stalking + mentions of violence / killing.

word count: 1,516.

random disclaimerrr: i think garfield's peter parker / spider-man would be the perfect spidey to interact w daredevil & the punisher. like come on. his quips & no nonsense attitude would make him the annoying little brother to matt & frank but they'd develop a soft spot for the kid bc he's just like them. happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2025 @jks1uv

It was fast, the realization.

Your laptop’s camera light turned on randomly one day, the white light tiny yet glaringly obvious.

You squint your eyes and wondered ‘what the fuck?’.

The only times the light turns on is when you’re taking a test that requires a webcam or if you’re on the app, yet neither of those things were true at the time.

You weren’t too weary but the thought of someone hacking into the cameras of your devices has crossed your mind a few times.

So, you went to the hardware store to get some answers.

The guy hums in thought and checks some stuff on your laptop before scribbling something down on a sticky note.

“So, I can’t see much activity on my end. It’s probably just some manual stuff, minor details that need to be cranked out.”

He slides the paper to you.

“But, if you go to this address or call these numbers; they may be of more service and be able to tell you what’s really going on.”

You look down and see something totally different from his explanation. It makes your heart drop out of your ass.

Don’t panic! You’ve been hacked and there’s a chance of audio being picked up as well. Remain calm and go to your local police station. Stay at another address in case of potential threat.

You had an idea that would yield better results than what the police would have done.

Peter side-eyes your laptop with skepticism, his jaw clenched and lips puckered to the side in thought.

You’ve never seen him this mad before.

If he were animated, you’re sure he would’ve exploded 3 times now and would still have heat fumes above his head.

You nervously blink and fiddle with your rings, growing a bit anxious at his quietness.

“Who’ve you come into recent contact with?” His voice hoarsely drops like a needle on a vinyl.

You clear your throat. “You, MJ, my dad… I met with Harry for lunch earlier this week, and that’s it.”

He nods coolly, trying to keep a levelheaded look.

“You’re sure that’s it? No one from work seems suspect?”

You think about this calmly, intently. You focus on remembering anyone who’d said or did something that made you think twice about it, no matter how harmless the subject may have been at the time.

You do remember something, rather someone.

“Umm… There’s this guy at work, Benjamin. He works on a different floor than me but he asked me out to dinner once.”

Peter’s blood runs cold. “Go on.”

“It was a few months into our relationship and he asked if he could take me out to dinner. I said no and that I have a boyfriend but he told me that he never mentioned it being a date.”

“So?”

Peter had a feeling he knew where this was going but for your sake, he wanted it to be untrue so bad.

“I just awkwardly laughed it off and said that maybe another time as you were expecting me home.”

He sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair.

“His expression changed for a split second, like he was annoyed or upset. Then he just politely smiled and let me be.”

Peter nods, already knowing.

“Do… Do you think it’s him?”

You want to dismiss that idea so bad because he seemed nice. But maybe that’s never enough.

“Yup.” He responds, not missing a beat.

“But we haven’t spoken since then.”

“Y/n, he’s the only one with a possible motive. He asked you out, you said no, so now he’s doing whatever he can to keep seeing you without you being in his way.”

Without you being in his way.

Benjamin resorts to stalking you because that’s the only way he gets what he wants and you won’t deny his advances.

It makes you feel small, so… small.

Why would he do that?

You were polite when you didn’t have to be. You saw him as a friend so why couldn’t he give you the same courtesy? He can’t just take no for an answer?

Peter can see you spiraling. He sees that distant look in your eyes when you’re thoughts run at a hundreds miles per minute.

He grips your hand on your thigh and interlocks his fingers with yours.

“Hey, hey, hey. Don’t do that.” He softly calls out to you.

You subconsciously hum but he holds you face in his soft yet calloused hands.

“Don't go somewhere I can’t follow.” He tilts your head up to meet his gaze. “Stay here with me.”

You deeply exhale and rub your thumbs up and down his wrists, your forehead coming down on to his.

It's when the tears fill your eyes that he kisses the closed eyelids and hugs you so tight, like you'll fall to pieces.

“I'll make it right." He whispers the quiet vow into your hairline. "I promise.”

You know he will and that's part of the reason you cry.

You've never seen Peter angry but it's personal this time, you don't know what'll happen and you don't know how to feel.

Should you be nervous? Happy? You're scared but the thought of knowing someone out there is willing to take advantage of people like you will be taken care of makes you less afraid.

Maybe Benjamin Pointdexter deserves what's coming to him.

“We've all gathered here tonight because Benjamin Pointdexter must die.”

“Okay, so that was not mentioned in the briefing, like, at all.” The lawyer in Matthew immediately objects.

“Kid's right, Red.”

And of course, it's overruled by Frank Castle.

The hardened man views the picture frame on top of the shelf above the chimney, casing the precious image inside: your gorgeous smile and Peter not-so-nonchalantly admiring it.

“You know he is.” His gruff voice softens a tad as he thinks about you.

You’re like a daughter to him. He believes his Lisa would love you and be just like you.

Frank clears his throat and thoughts away and forces himself to come back to reality.

“Don't encourage him.” The Catholic man sighs and asks, “Why are we really here, Peter?”.

“I just gave you my thesis statement.” Peter doubles down.

“I’m not going to be able to help if I don’t know the whole story.”

Matthew insists and Peter isn’t having it.

“Alright, you really wanna know? Benjamin Pointdexter was stalking Y/n through her computer monitor. So now, I’m gonna kill him.”

Frank isn’t shy about killing but even he has to admit that maybe the idea is a bit of an overkill.

“How about maybe paralyzing him from the neck down momentarily and then dump him in front of the police station?”

Matthew and Peter both look like they've just heard the Frank Castle suggest a non-graphic, non-murderous idea.

“Wow.” Matthew scoffs, a half-smile on his face.

Frank shakes his head and look off to the side. “Yeah, yeah alright.”

Peter calms down and takes his words into careful consideration, his word is kind of law around here.

Everyone loves Spider-Man and if he says that's a stalking criminal, then that guy's a stalking predator.

He nods. “Alright, yeah. I'm fine with that.”

Matt clears his throat and asks for the game-plan but Peter insists to leave that up to him.

“I got it all figured out, thanks guys.”

Matthew didn't think Peter had it in him to be level headed about this but he's impressed with the younger man's honesty.

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen has learned a thing or two about evil and it's that when necessary, must die. To kill or not to kill is simply the matter of principle and one he'll always evade if he can help it.

“I care about her, too. She's a dear friend but she needs you now more than ever.”

Matt knows when someone is lying but he needs to know. He needs to be sure.

Killing is a slippery slope not many get to see the bottom of.

“I know.”

It doesn't take a lie detector test to know Peter's telling the truth, even Frank knew from the organized look on his face.

“Be careful, Peter.”

Frank in dad-mode is always an endearing sight to see and Peter appreciates it.

“Will do, old man.”

Peter goes out that same night, leaving Frank and Matthew guarding you in your apartment.

If there's anyone you and your boyfriend can unanimously agree on trusting after Spider-Man, it's The Punisher and the Devil of Hell's Kitchen.

You're fast asleep in bed, the effects of taking a tylenol kicked your headaches ass hard.

Peter lingers by the doorway, adoring the sleeping beauty in her bed.

He wishes for it to always be like this; you, alive and well-taken care of by him, a strong man who knows his limits and understands what he has to do to be the protector everyone relies on.

It will be, he thinks before donning the mask and taking off into the night and being the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man he was born to be.

[crybaby-bkg]

I think Deku has a bit of a mean streak, actually. he’s no Bakugou—that’s for sure—but he’s not this innocent, sweet angel baby that the media has painted him out to be. but you only catch it when you least expect it, when you’re pushing his nerves, when the stakes to everything around him are high, when he’s tired of endless sleepless nights and just—snaps.

“Oh?” you go, grin unfurling like some grinch, chin resting on your hands as you leer at him from across his expansive desk. “You’re mean.” your words are teasing, a snarl that curls your mouth up. Deku stutters, eyes going wide, jaw snapping shut in surprise as he tries to think back on how rude he just sounded.

“No, I’m not—I mean, you wouldn’t stop and I just—there’s a lot on my plate right now—and you just—you keep on—I’m not—I’m not mean.” He’s sputtering, hands all over the place, the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose falling even lower with how he jabbers on and on. it’s endearing really, to see how he tries to upkeep his image of being so kind and understanding, even though his nostrils just flared at you. and his eyebrows turned down and he gritted at you, his hands were balled into fists, his words were so nasty, so ugly, so unbecoming for Deku.

you liked it. loved it even—vowed to get him like this every single fucking second that you could.

you pick and poke at him whenever you see him, teasing him and pulling at him. pushing him around even though the hero is so much stronger than you, so much bigger. and he lets you, tries to defend himself but—that’s not what you want. you want the ugliness, the snark, the mean.

he snaps, eventually, when you least expect it. grabs you up in black whip when you go to push him against the wall for the third time in only a minute, his eyes suddenly dark, the aura of the room suddenly charged.

“That’s what I was looking for.” you whisper to him, the grin spreading your face quickly dissipating in only seconds when you become the prey. when you become the one pushed up against the wall with teeth at your neck, a hand in your underwear, bullying your hole with too thick fingers.

“Why do you want me to act like this? Be so mean to you, huh?” he sounds so frustrated with himself, with you, growling and nipping and licking when you don’t answer quick enough. but your breath is caught in your lungs because finally—finally, did you get what you wanted. it just took a little bit of pushing, you suppose.

[a-stars-art-blog]

Barok the physically affectionate my beloved

[grabby-smitten]

Nonononononononono he can’t do this to me nononononononono

(Edit: post crazed me reading this. not editing hahaha I am such a nonsensical person sometimes. I love this me).

[sunmisbf]

i only like 3 out of 6 songs BUT i do think this is a better mini than the first. enough for me + sweet as sin + stunner thank u for helping ten beat the mediocre soloist music allegations never lose hope 🙏

[steevejr]

my insane micromanaging store manager who voluntarily works 80 hours a week for no extra pay is like getting so insane that I think he might shoot himself in the bathroom soon 🥰

[wordsgood]

do you think the people who made hades will sue me if i keep my character’s name brightsword because that’s been his name since like 2008 or will they not really care

[scionshtola]

i started writing a whole thing about mir and her mom and then i realized i accidentally gave the briadis family the perfect set up for a tragic family empire tv show

[teabookgremlin]

fucking love how it went from “yeah sorry we don’t have room for you in the schedule” to “sorry there’s no one available to cover for you when you cannot work a shift” in a month

[exopelagic]

grief is weird and dumb

[syluses]

𝄞 bloodhound

𓍯𓂃 hybrid sylus x female reader

(10k wc) ✦ summary: demanding, old, hostile— just a few of the warnings the man at the local shelter gave you before opening its cage. but it doesn’t matter. so long as he can protect you, all else can be forgiven. yet he’s more wolf than dog. more… man than wolf.

✦ content hybrid! sylus, nsfw/smut, hints of violence (not between mc/sylus), tension, kind of enemies to lovers-? he warms up to mc, knotting & adjusting to it, feral behavior, cunnilingus, slight somnophilia (not detailed), hinted age gap (all parties are 18+), possessive behavior, size difference,

✦ sidenote as by popular demand we have the latest installment of the lads hybrid collection 🙂‍↕️ i apologize in advance bc even as a wolf-man creature i made sylus older, because yall already know i love me a good ol’ fashioned dilf. dont ask me what bro is in dog years just know he’s scruffy! anyways do enjoy this lil thing while u wait for the caleb fic which i am busting my ass for :] 💕 ALSO sorry. he’s not feline this time… >_< this is def not my fav piece but i hope some of the girlies will like this one :] i did work hard on it it’s quite long. i gave it plot but tbh the smut is straight up filthy 😖 ig all we have left to do is hybrid rafayel! but that boy’s gonna have to wait lol :,) i do hav an idea for him tho ;D

With every step, it feels as if the walls of your apartment are closing in on you.

By your feet, at the front door you hardly have the coordination to close- blundering with the lock- lay a bouquet. Scattered. Flowers strew themselves across your hall as you kick the clasped bunch with the tip of your heel and glide from room to room, warily ducking into each one with your hand braced in front of your body, ready to beat and thrash and fight for your life.

In your other hand- a note. Crumpled, now. Shaking between your fingers.

You don’t think he’s gotten inside again- it seems the new home security measures you installed have thrown a wrench in his plans- for the moment, at least (although your spare key is still missing)- but you’re not wholly convinced you’re safe, either.

And to be clear, it’s better to be that than sorry: You’ll check each and every cranny of your little flat if it means reclaiming your peace of mind.

Your life is a different story though, as of late; threatened yet not something quite as simple to take back. Living with bated breath is no way to exist- neither with the perpetual looks thrown over your shoulder on the short trek back from the bus, the seemingly harmless creaks at night hurling you whole feet from your bed.

Because of that fear, you can hardly even bear to look down at the tiny paper in your hand to read it.

I loved that outfit on you yesterday babe. Can you blame me for taking a little from your wardrobe? ♡

Strangely, though, your drawer is just as you left it when you slide it from its framework almost fast enough to pop its screws, fearing the worst.

Clothes- your tee shirts, blouses for work and lacy bras, pencil skirts- fling across your bed, yet nothing is… amiss.

That outfit from yesterday.

With a gasp, you twist around to look at your hamper, and-

Sure enough, the lid is open.

✦

“-get a few new ones a week. Gets hard to keep up with ‘em all. All the personalities and quirks- a lot of them won’t even eat their kibble unless you look the other way.”

The cold brick walls and all the sounds bouncing off them (grunts, woofs, and nails against tile) become humdrum as the worker, waving a hand as he talks- rants, really- leads you through the pound.

The fluorescence lighting the place flares, whirs overhead. Everything about the setting is harsh. Obviously, you’re in no danger- but as you trail alongside him, you feel a sense of foreboding in your gut all the same. Like you’re walking into a dungeon.

The colorless walls swallowing up most of your vision make that silly threat seem an ounce realer.

You swallow, head on a swivel- yet not for fear, but sympathy as you pass an assortment of fenced-off pets. Some track you with a snarl. Some with eyes that plead. Still, they all share the undeniable tinge of distrust.

What an awful place, you think to yourself.

…But coming here had a purpose.

Your heels clip against the scratched floor and echo in rounds, a certain emptiness existing around you that seems misaligned with all the noise and sights.

Dogs in their cages— some upfront, teething at the metal, others: cowed to their corners, lying on thin blankets not quite as worse for wear.

To sum it up- creatures sapped of will. Defeated in life.

A distinct sorrow weighs in your chest, even as the employee happily drones on, a half-eaten tuna sandwich in one hand (the other: gesturing emphatically), hardly paying you any attention. To be fair, you’re giving him very little as well.

“-I mean, some don’t even eat at all. Picky things.”

Picky? You question quietly. Or without hunger? Their appetite for cheap, bagged kibble robbed right along with their appetite for life.

Your nails dent into your palm as you clench it.

It’s hard to get a word in edgewise as the man chatters away, but you manage to pile down your need to be polite for long enough to get in a:

Hey, excuse me, I asked what kind of dog you’d recommend for prot—

Clack, clack… Clack.

You come to a pause, dead-center in the walkway. The dull rhythm of his shoes remains where yours doesn’t.

“Heh. We got one a couple of months back who thinks this place is his own damn gourmet restaur-“

When he notices you’re not arm-to-arm, he, too, stops.

“Ma’am?” He turns.

“That one,” you breathe, just vaguely registering as the worker sidles up to you and glances at the cage you approach. The glint in your eye wins his interest.

For once since you entered the building, he shuts his mouth.

When he looks at ‘that one’ in question— a silver shock of fur, immersed in a shadow against the far wall— his eyes almost bulge from his skull.

A sharp laugh.

“Ah, little lady. Don’t wanna bite off more than you can chew, now. See-“

As he falls back into drivel (albeit, you lend an ear, curious now), you eye the pooch.

He looks a little wilder than the rest, a little more weathered, tucked to the corner of his cage but not quite ‘cowering’- no, he’s a touch too big and threatening for it to seem that way. More like… brooding.

…Yet you wonder all the same if that’s what he feels, too. Scared like most if not all of the others.

Your chest stirs again with that wisp of sadness.

If you could, you’d clip their collars to a leash and walk them all home, cramming them into your apartment with no thought and all heart. For reasons- countless reasons (having to do with your tiny home and even tinier wallet)- that’s not possible.

In a place as cold and unfortunate as this, he’d have every reason to be frightened, you think, but when your eyes soften with pity at him, his own narrow.

Thoughtfully, you blink.

As the worker rattles off his minor crimes around the playpen- and the hole he eats through their budget, what with his size- you can’t help but marvel at him.

Concerningly massive. With thick, silvery fur matted in certain areas, patchy with scars in others, and eyes that glow an unnatural shade of red- you can wholeheartedly say you’ve never seen the breed before. Less dog-like and more wolfish.

It warrants a raise of the brow, just what he’s doing here. Did he have an owner before? Was he abandoned by them? Or… was he just pulled from the street?

And if so, how many elephant-sized tranquilizer darts did it take to haul him here?

“So,” he says, stuffing his hand in his pockets, “Honestly, Ma’am, he’s probably not what you’re lookin’ for.” Giving your clacking heels and airy sundress a once-over, he sighs.

“We do have a Samoyed though- he was brought in just yesterday. Super playful. Great personality. Domesticated. He definitely won’t be here for long. Uh… this one here, though,” he snickers. “He’s unpredictable at the best of times. Growls when ya feed him- then growls some more ‘cause he’s still hungry... tsk,” he glances down at his hand, then. Evidently, there’s no mark there, but you think he’s imagining one that could’ve been.

“He’s on the older side, too. Can’t teach him any new tricks. And… big, as you can see. With his temperament, he’d probably tear a hole in your apartment. You, uh, you got an apartment, you said-?”

Right now, you should be thankful for all his advice- at the very least, relieved his chatter has become more meaningful, relaying all the pooch’s unruly habits. Yet you tune it all out, slightly cocking your head at the beast dog- a movement that, if you’re not imagining things, his scruffy one mirrors.

“He’s…”

“Yep. Like I said-“

“Perfect,” you breathe, falling to a crouch.

The man beside you coughs on his own spit. “What-? Uh, little lady, I seriously don’t think— hey, watch the hands! Don’t stick ‘em through!”

“-How much?”

You manage to pry your gaze from the ominous thing tucked a number of feet into his prison, cloaked and out of the light, to look up at the man. For all of the warnings and, really, defamation made against the animal— to his defense, he doesn’t lunge. Bark. Claw at the bars or slip his snout through to bite the harmless hand you extend in the space there.

No. With a lift of his whiskers, he watches.

Tuna-sandwich blinks. Eyes widening to twice their original size before he scrubs the lower half of his face.

Eventually, he shrugs. Takes a moment to process it.

As he does, you await the price with a hand already dipping inside your purse. I mean, you hope not to spend a small fortune during this outing- but it’s also an investment worth your while. There’s no saying when your stalker will show his face again. If tomorrow he’ll be waiting under your bed or in your closet for your return- hell, right now, the hackles on your neck are raised as if he could be lurking still.

A word relieves you of worries for naught.

“Nothing.”

…Wait- No, that can’t be right. Nothing? The- your future good boy is worth nothing?

“E-Excuse me?”

He sighs, exasperated. “You’d be doing us a favor,” is all he gives as an explanation. “You can have him for free.”

Dumbfounded, snapping your head back to the cage, you’re met with two crimson eyes that look almost hellish as they catch in the shifting fluorescence- and a pass of surprise on its face that appears almost… human.

“But, are you-“

“Haaaaah. Maybe it’s for the better. You’re like his savior, you know,” he comments, sparing a rather indifferent glance to the animal, “he oughta be thankful for you coming in here.”

And there, fucking again- like a blade wedged between your ribs and twisting—

“Too much longer and we would’a had to put him down.”

A squeeze of your heart.

Jaw fluttering shut, that morsel of information wipes the entirety of your hesitance out. Belatedly, you nod, perching your bag above your hip once more, a sense of determination smoothing out your features.

“When can we get him out of this cage?”

You ask without looking his way.

The sound of keys jingling on a ring has the silver-furred creature perking his left ear ever so slightly- a movement you track with curiosity as the beast’s chest swells in. It’s like he understands. Maybe he does. Maybe he’s seen countless people just like you filter in and out, pass him by, and ultimately land on a different pet to jailbreak take home.

“I can get you sorted right now,” he quips, helpful, “Just… You might wanna back up.”

Weirdly enough- and despite knowing you really should be cautious with a veritable beast from the local shelter, scarred to no end and skulking- all the tiptoeing around him is endearing in its own right.

He’s a good boy, you’re sure of it. Misunderstood, probably, like the rest of the poor, trembling things here— just in need of a nice, loving home and maybe a scritch or two behind the ear. And you’re positive, if nothing else, he’ll do plenty a good job at keeping your stalker at bay.

It takes a handful of minutes to loop the rope (not leash: rope) around his neck- yet the worker treats it as a pleasant surprise, muttering something about how he’s just a whit more cooperative today.

“Thank you,” you chime a bit breathlessly. Sure, your main goal in coming here was to find a suitable guard dog, but you can’t deny the excitement that flutters within as the gate closes to a now-empty cage, your new pet springing free.

Anticipation thrums in your chest as you eagerly accept the rope from him- “careful,” a snigger- and—

The ground beneath you all but gives way.

“Oh, sir- one more thing! What’s his name!”

He stops for a moment to turn halfway over his shoulder. Long, overgrown nails skittering across the floor as the leash tugs harshly and you’re rapidly propelled out the front door, into sunlight.

However, you do catch him shrugging.

“No clue.”

✦

A number of days pass. Those days drag by with an eagerness to get to know each other that seems only one-sided- and a caution on his end that borders uncanniness.

You buy him a fluffy dog bed (the biggest you could find; he’s bigger still). Quality food, not the rubbish they fed him at the pound. And you give him your patience; small, gentle smiles that you’re not entirely sure an animal can understand— but when you offer out your hand for him to smell, a sign that you mean no harm, he growls and retreats to his corner. He chooses one part of your tiny apartment to hunker down in and outright glares when you get too close.

This is your house.

This… was your house. Maybe you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. As a week moves on, you concede to your bedroom or the sofa and watch him with resignation as he watches you back- and contemplate if you made the right choice.

Does he seriously hate you that bad? How can you make him understand that you don’t harbor any bad intentions for him-? I mean, aren’t animals supposed to have that preternatural kind of instinct anyway? to spot malice?

What is he spotting in you?

Curled up on the couch, you hang your hand off the arm and release the new brush you’d bought days ago. It’s seeming more and more like a useless purchase, yet after countless attempts to bathe and brush him- all for naught- it’s only now starting to settle.

Work was long. That one coworker was grating on your nerves more than usual and you could’ve sworn you heard a second pair of footfalls trailing yours after the bus back- but you can only look over your shoulder so many times without attracting the attention of people who start to wonder if you’re batshit crazy.

But you're not crazy. That- That psychopath is, and his countless notes and uninvited visits to your apartment while you’re gone are all proofs of that.

But that’s changed, now. If your dog hates you, he’ll hate an intruder even more.

You sigh, holding your head in your hands as you lean forward. Like a flower wilted, folded in on itself, too heavy with its withering to support its own weight. You rub your temples when you grudgingly glance up to the wolf-sized beast sulking in the corner.

He stares, of course; buttery light twinkling in imposing, ruby eyes in a way that almost makes him seem tame. Mellow.

Not quite.

Still, you can’t bring yourself to dislike him, or regret taking him off the pound’s hands— for all his stubbornness, the hostility he barely conceals, you know all too well that fear manifests itself in strange ways. Like when you almost snarled at your deskmate today for leaning over your shoulder again to review your work- the proximity too startling to handle. You’re irate. On alert. Scared. And it’s making you do unreasonable things as a way to calcify your soft skin into a protective shell. You start to think that you must be hard: the climate calls for it.

The mutt that broods behind your armchair is the picture of ominous- big and bad and threatening long before his lip even curls in warning. Everything about him screams see, look at my scars- my sharp teeth and nails. Don’t touch me. Don’t hurt me.

Your heart stirs.

Tiredly, you offer a small smile. “You are perfect, you know,” folding your leg over the other as you pat the open space of the couch beside you. It can fit four to six people if they cram together, but you know he’d take up the three cushions beside you if he sprawled out entirely.

He regards you with a microscopic flick of his ears. “Even if you don’t like me, that doesn’t change what I think about you. If you just let me give you a bath… I’ll let you sit on the couch, deal? I’m sure it’ll be comfier than what you got now,” you offer, gesturing harmlessly to the dog bed that lays unused by the table— for this reason or that, perhaps just as a way to show you he’s completely rejecting you, he’s avoided it.

Yes, he’s just a tatterdamelion, forgotten animal, operating out of instinct and whatever feels right.

Yes, you still had to mask your hurt over it.

You sigh. “I mean, I haven’t even thought of a name for you yet. And I’m sorry, I just…” Trailing off, you give your head a small shake and stand to your feet. In your mind, with no small amount of discontent, you realize you’ve reached a watershed here— one that separates your old, normal life from a sense of great uncertainty that rests on the horizon.

And you’re terribly concerned. And tired. But God forbid you start venting to a dog about it.

“Nevermind. Goodnight, boy,” you wave your doubts off dismissively, deliberately leaving the lamplight on lest he get scared in the dark. Sometimes, you think you see eyes staring back in it, too, so you put no judgement on him.

Pattering with heavy, sock-clad feet down the hall, “Sleep tight. Just tell me if you hear anything at the door-“

A labored sigh.

Nails clacking behind you— and for one awful second you fear the worst: You’ve turned your back to a beast.

Your breath hitches with the realization, yet as you swiftly spin around- half prepared to bolt or at the very least shield your head with your vulnerable, just as fleshy arms- you’re mistaken.

There, he stands, as a massive silhouette against the living room light angling into the narrow, dim hall. He’s like a bull in a china shop- monstrous, sharp claws etching lines into the lacquer of the maple wood floor, his tail sending fur gusting behind him as it falls. You become clear of two things, then:

One) you must sweep, and soon. And two)

He’s tilting his head- in an uncannily shrewd way- towards the ajar bathroom door beside you, and as he noses it open and stares at you, it’s with expectance.

Oh, and then three—

When you don’t respond right away, he steps around you and impatiently nudges you in- headstrong as ever- through the bathroom door with a throaty huff.

✦

He smells of strawberry shortcake. Vastly sweeter than what he really is, you think with a wry but endeared smile, when you extend a slow, ever-cautious hand to pet.

To your surprise, he lets you.

Call it a truce between you both. A comfier place for him to crash at for a little more peace of mind on your end.

With all the dirt and dried muck lathered out from his coat (it took an hour or so, and patience- as he flung water and stubbornly tried to readjust in the small tub- lots of it), you’re given the chance to finally see the beauty of his breed.

Chalky white fur, soft as the cashmere sweater stowed in your closet on standby for the chilly autumn weeks ahead. His hair is long, perhaps overdue for a trim- not that you’re deluded enough to believe he’d allow a groomer anywhere near him- and easily covers most of the scarring underneath.

Convincing him it was safe to let you clip his nails was an even harder task than getting him in the bath- but he… cooperated. In a looser sense of the word.

None of your limbs are missing. That’s a small miracle in itself. You’re thankful for the little breakthroughs with your new pet, even if it feels like you’re walking uphill all the while.

He hops up on the sofa beside you. True to your word, you allow it, the springs dipping beneath you both as he settles.

If the couch fell through the floor and onto the one below in a mist of crumbled drywall, you’d have no right to be surprised. None at all.

Trying not to show a fraction of your joy as he sets his head on your lap lest that deter him, you bite back a grin and rest a hand on his back. You avoid needless contact with his head- you get the feeling that’s a iffier place for him. You’d respect it, of course. Your show of patience has been nothing less than outstanding in the past week. Now that you’re finally making headway with him (and yes— his letting you bathe and sit with him is headway), you’re encouraged.

Besides…

Unpredictable. The forbidding advice of the shelter employee rings in your head.

Ahem.

It’s late.

Tomorrow, you’ve another long day of work and second-guessing your surroundings and the people in them. Whether or not you’ll be attacked in your own home by your persistent ex-boyfriend who couldn’t stop meddling with your life even if it meant saving his own.

The doubt, momentarily, is pushed to the back burner.

You smooth your hands through his velvety fur. A strange layer of peace drapes itself over you, warming your chest like a fleece as his back rises and falls, your quiet breaths punctuating his own heaving ones.

“You’re a good boy, you know,” you murmur contentedly as you lay your head back and drift off. A crimson set of eyes regards you carefully, peering up through fine, snowy lashes.

From the barrel of his chest, he lets out a deep rumble like he understands. You know he doesn’t.

Half awake, you weave your fingers along him, “You are. You are a good boy,” as if it’s come as an epiphany to you- made realer as it’s spoken.

Before you let sleep take you entirely, you murmur with a ghost of a grin, teasing despite knowing it’s ridiculous because your words aren’t coherent to him- just a swooning, soft sound to bitten ears—

“Hey… I could tell you didn’t really like Cookie, or Sweetie, or Dragonfruit, but… what about…”

A moment passes. Barely, you register his snout lifting from your thigh.

“Sylus.”

Before dozing off, you’re fairly certain- for his sake- you’d left the lamp on that night.

…But when you wake the next morning to your alarm blaring in the room over, all that lights the living space is the sun streaming through the blinds.

✦

You blink and autumn is in full throttle.

You blink and you’re trading your thin sleep shorts out for pajama pants and slippers- layering your work blouses with wooly cardigans.

Days leap over one another like cards of a rolodex— yours, on your cubicle desk: filled with doodles of the unruly pooch waiting at home for you. Idling over him is all that you can do to ease your mind as anxiety gnaws through.

You worry for him when he’s home alone. Not because you heed the warnings you were once given- ‘he’ll tear a hole in your walls’- but because you care for him, and with that brings the inexplicable want to see him as soon as possible.

Of course, he can’t speak, but he shows in his own way that he misses you too when you’re gone.

Once your shift ends, you do as you did the day before. You quickly take the jacket off your wheely chair and gather your things, waving to the select few coworkers who don’t make you want to rip your hair from the root.

Perhaps if you’re quick enough, you’ll even make it off the bus, to your complex, before the sun sets. You appreciate fall for its colors. Not for the darkness it brings far too early to be comfortable with.

Every alley appears with teeth, in those eerily quiet moments when you make the short trek back home. Cars purr beside you on the congested roads, and despite cursing traffic on the ride to your stop, you’re grateful for it now.

At least more people are out; potential buffers to stave off your crazy ex from putting his hands on you…

Potential witnesses if he does.

Damnit. Damnit damnit damnit. Every evening you can’t help but wish you could just- take Sylus with you to work. But for so many reasons that’s just not possible.

Stuffing your hands in your pockets, you breathe out a fine mist and pick up the pace.

You can’t escape dusk from falling- but you can take advantage of the early moments of it right before night comes swinging.

You nervously glance up to the sky, a fiery swatch of orange sat under starry blue, and tell yourself it’s fine.

…It’s fine- and yet you swear on all things holy you can hear boots pacing behind yours—

A gasp. You turn around and get ready to rip your pepper pray from the scabbard that is your pocket- for naught. Emptiness greets you. Sneering and quiet. In the distance, deeper into the city, a car honks. Where you are now though, you’re more or less alone.

You wet your lip where it’s dented from biting. You turn around, and press back on.

It’s okay. You’re almost home. Just a bit further. Within ten minutes you’ll be crooning to your ‘puppy’ and itching behind his ear while he rigidly thumps his tail, closing his eyes indifferently as if he wasn’t hurrying to the door as soon as he heard the lock.

Yes, that’s right. In ten minutes- on the dot (you know because you’re toying with your watch to calm yourself)- you’ll be slipping off your jacket and refilling his water bowl, tossing him scraps as you prepare a nice steak dinner in celebration of your weekend commencing. The fancy wine you’ll pair with it is to help wash it all down and pretend you’re financially better off than you are. Not to help your nerves.

…Even Sylus, the creature who doesn’t understand you even if sometimes it seems he unexplainably does, would be hard-pressed to believe such a feeble lie.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Your heels. A dull, monotonous rhythm against pavement, one you relish now because it fills the crisp, silent air.

Then-

Tap tap tap.

Your heels- “Hey baby, wait up- where ya going?”- with the sound of another and the bone-chilling revelation that every suspicion you had was grounded—

You don’t even turn around. You don’t reason with, stick up the bird to, or even hastily shout a fuck off, creep, over your shoulder because you’re not sure you have the luxury to.

By the sounds of it, he’s already close.

“Oh no you don’t. Come on, baby, just let me fuckin’ talk to you!”

-Closer and gaining still.

Fear rattles through you. It goes from zero to one hundred in a breath- yet how to breathe becomes a distant memory as your lungs still. The pulse in your throat drums, and suddenly your cardigan isn’t enough to save you from the ice eating you from the inside out- a cold sweat already forming at your nape.

You’re in such a panic you even forget about the spray in your pocket- the assortment of makeshift blades (keys, pens that grow knives when you click them) tucked in your purse. You have a small arsenal in there. Yet your mind spins.

“Stop-! I haven’t even been able to visit you lately because of that fucking asshole- since when you’d get a new boyfriend, baby? Do you really not care about me anymore? I just wanna talk!”

No. No no no- and new boyfriend? What-? All thought is dashed from your brain, his hollers becoming static. No, just ignore him, it doesn’t matter what nonsense he spouts to try and get you back- you won’t so much as glance behind you. After all he’s done to hurt and twist and outright disgrace you and your home, you don’t think he deserves it.

You break into a sprint. The concrete path pushes beneath you. You feel like you’re running in a dream, you’re so terrified- but you do run. You run like hell. You run like a girl.

You fiddle for the key in your purse, shaking as the door opens and you slam it behind you. His hand almost gets stuck in it, the knob jiggling loudly just a millisecond after you lock it.

As the reality of what could’ve been settles, you’re horrified. Cold in the face.

Sylus is there, leaping over to reach you. You wonder if the fury you catch in his wide ruby eyes is your imagination or reality; if he has the inexplicable knowing- based on your frazzled state or the noise- that something is terribly wrong.

“Sylus-“

You breathe with relief, but you don’t linger. You skitter past to the kitchen for a weapon- a real, proper one. A snarl rips from his throat as you leave him behind you, shouts sounding in the hallway behind your door. He barks at it. Ferocious and lupine. Surely not the make of a dog, of a pet meant for four walls and a roof— no, it’s a separate beast entirely.

Hostile, unpredictable, growly- dangerous. Oh, you’ve no choice but to hope all the labels on his package are true. That he’ll rip your ex-boyfriend a new one if he finds a way in.

Hyperventilating, limbs like jelly, you stagger over. In the short span of time it takes you to turn out the kitchen and down the corridor, you contemplate either opening the door and saying go boy, go— or simply staying back to ‘defend.’

You turn the corner and blanche.

Someone’s in your house- not the creeping, painfully familiar face, however, no- and he’s naked.

And then, everything you’d been working so hard to build with your froward pet over the months, the foundation of trust and patience, the hard-earned truce made between you both… As red eyes flash at you in warning, a hand taking the shaking knife from your own before he opens the door— it all shifts.

The bottom falls through.

The man opens the door, and perhaps you should be thankful that he takes the squabble outside because you’re sure that the blood spraying from your ex-boyfriend’s nose as it breaks would be impossible to scrub from your walls.

✦

“Relax,” he grouses with a tsk, “I’m not gonna bite.”

With split knuckles, a long leg crossed over the other where he sits on your couch, canines just a little too sharp as they catch in the lamplight- that’s hard to believe.

The blade he’d taken from your hands lies on the cushion beside him, and while you don’t make a grab for it, you think he sees the way you eye it- and the knife block in the kitchen- as you clench your fist to keep yourself from fainting while you gawk.

“Y-You’re not my dog.”

One of his brows lifts with amusement- or challenge, perhaps- as you deny the truth laid out before you. It’s impossible. Of course it’s impossible. He-

That can’t be Sylus.

For a moment you believe he’ll agree. Nod his head and say, no, I’m not your dog- I’m a person; because that’s certainly how he looks. But he doesn’t.

“I simply changed forms,” he explains. “Not who I am to you.”

With nothing else to say- no real rebuttal- you can only flounder. “N-No. You’re not Sylus.”

That pulls a soft huff from him, “Oh, kitten,” he grins a tenuous grin, “I’m wounded. And here I thought your kindness had no takebacks. You gave me that name, didn’t you? Sylus.” He sighs, a heavy, affected sound- like this is no more than a theater play to him as he adjusts on your sofa.

“I guess I’ll just have to settle for something else, then… Is Dragonfruit still up for grabs?”

D-Dragonfruit? How does he…

The way he looks at you then, with a lift of his chin as he angles his brow in provocation, a smirk only touching half his mouth- makes you freeze. The little hairs on your nape rise.

…Yet he’s just as scarred as your pet, with the silver hair and the gemstone eyes— massive, over six foot tall and muscular- and the air about him is… familiar. Too much to be comfortable with.

“Y-You’re not-“

Before you can splutter out another denial, he sighs and drops the bravado. He spares the weapon beside him a dismissive glance, stretching one arm across the back of the couch.

“Look, if you don’t believe me, that’s your choice. I won’t try to convince you,” he states, “I’ll just let my actions speak for themselves in the course of the next few days.”

…What? The next few days? Does he plan to stay? What- no. No no no! This mysterious, albeit helpful stranger (helpful in the way that he shook your persistent ex from your doorstep- through violent means, of course) can’t seriously think you’ll just let him crash at your place after feeding you such a ridiculous lie. He’s not your dog. He’s- he’s not some werewolf that can shapeshift on a whim- those only exist in fairytales and teenage romance novels.

Not in your tiny apartment.

“N-No. You- you’re crazy. You have to leave. You have to! I’ll- I’ll call the cops!”

Not-Sylus seems unfazed. Perhaps even a little offended at your bluffing: the vehemence is there. But the certainty is not.

Sure, the department wasn’t having your stalker drama- but an intrusion you’re actually witnessing like this can’t be easily ignored. If your crappy ex ends up snitching (you doubt it, what with his involvement)- all the more evidence, right?

He all but rolls his eyes, saying like it’s obvious, perhaps even with a mite of amusement, “I’m on your side, kitten. Don’t get all…” he looks you up and down, and you hate the flutter of your heart that’s more than just fearful— it’s self-conscious. “Hissy now.”

You punch out a scoff of disbelief. “You’re some stranger in my house! Look- I appreciate what you did, okay? I really do,” you start. You have to pause in between to take a breath because God knows you mean the words you say- you’re just inwardly afraid that the fix was only quick, not permanent, and with the sudden disappearance of your dog? Good luck protecting yourself now. Fuck, you don’t even know where he went- maybe he booked it out through the door when you were too distracted by the chaos to notice.

But then… why the hell would he leave? He- He’s never done that until now!

You rub your face and stare at him. The fear lends itself to a distant echo the more you realize you’re no longer in immediate danger. The guy is an unwelcome (and flashy, literally) intruder, yes, one your pooch would waste no time in maiming, but he’s not an active threat... You just have to figure out how to get him to leave.

“But my dog is a dog. Not a human. Not… you.” That you even have to say it out loud is ridiculous.

Even if, the longer you stare, the more you begin to believe it.

The scarred skin, the unmistakable, red eyes, and the somewhat bitten ears- his body weathered from what you suspect to be years of tussling in underground fights (evidently: winning them, not without the cost though)…

And that arrogant little air he carries with him, the one that first endeared you so.

Sylus, it all says.

But no. No- this is insane. Months of being stalked and living like a bug under a microscope have made you worse for wear. Impaired your judgment.

He draws you back to the present with his rumbling voice. “Your dog is more than just some animal,” he huffs. “Don’t tell me after all you’ve experienced with the stalker that you’re… frightened of this side of me? Really? Of all things?” His chuckle is as rich as it is short as he shakes his head.

Frightened? No… that becomes a more distant word. You’re more so stunned than anything else right now as the pieces start to fall in alignment with each other.

“Well, how about this,” he offers at your silence, waving his hand. “Let the week pass. By the end of it, you can decide for yourself if I’m real or truly just a figment of your imagination, sweetheart… You…” he lowers his gaze, then. Uncertain, almost.

“You can even decide if you want me to stay.”

He rubs nothing between his fingers, glancing up again with a pointed brow. “Deal?”

And if you say no? If, on the off chance you’re wrong and you kick him right back to the curb- to a sorry life of abandonment and bloody illegal brawls and God knows what else?

Your mouth wavers. “I- I don’t believe it.”

You do believe it. But it’s crazy.

He almost snorts. “You’d better start. But with that pest taken care of now… I think you’ll catch on quite fast,” he grins. “I’m here for you, kitten. Isn’t that what you wanted me for? Protection? Don’t tell me once I serve my use you’ll throw me out?” He laughs. But then he sighs right after, pursing his lips and looking down to his lap where he makes no effort to adjust the thin blanket that covers his nakedness as it nearly slips.

Headstrong. Cocksure. Bored with his surroundings in a way only mature folk really tend to be. The sage advice of that employee flashes in your mind— ‘he’s on the older side, so naturally he’s a bit grumpy, snippy’; really, you shouldn’t gasp at his temperament but with your current situation it’s a little hard not to when he clips out-

“So? Do we have a deal or not?”

And, well, what’s the harm in giving him your couch for one night?

Or several.

✦

A wintry chill pricks up your neck. Along your arms. Down your limbs where they bundle beneath the covers- to the tips of your toes as you respond with a shiver.

It rattles you in tandem with pleasure.

Upon waking, a few things blitz through your mind too fast to catch. For one, you’ve woken before your alarm- meaning you’ll be miserable in the minutes or hours of consciousness before it actually does go off. Secondly, the bed feels heavier.

…As do your bones.

Third— Sylus is not on the couch like he’s been for the past few months. He’s with you, in the comfort of your own bed, and as the wooly blanket slips down your upper half- leaving you to the cold air- it reveals to you a head between your thighs.

Pried open. One held up for a soft kiss while the other is pinned down— both wet. Sticky with- with you.

You gasp. “Sylus-“

You’ve no time to even rub the sleep from your eyes, big weathered hands anchoring you in place, because he lifts his head from his plate for a millisecond when you try to stop him and does something he hasn’t for months.

He snarls.

“Quiet. I’m eating.”

Protective. Territorial. That isn’t your pussy he eats from, lapping fervently at it as if it wasn’t just a number of hours ago you were hand-feeding him steak cubes from the cutting tray— no, it’s his.

He blocks your hand from interfering when it slips beneath the cover. So when that doesn’t work, you attempt to clamp your legs shut (quavering, you realize, on either side of his lupine face). All your efforts- bogged by sleep and the simple fact that he was leagues stronger- are for naught.

‘Good try’, his eyes seem to tease, though, glittering devilishly at you as his tongue flicks your clit. And then, when you hesitantly lie back and rest a hand in his hair- ‘that’s it, kitten.’

“Good girl,” he practically purrs.

He’s got a big appetite. You’ve known that.

Not as much as you do right now.

“Sylus, wait wait wait,” you moan. Life has thrown so much your way, especially in the past year or so, but you never went belly-up for it. You fought and resisted and squared up.

But right now, half of you almost wants to take him lying down- let him take his fill of you and then pin you down to take some more. Let him have his way with you, whatever that may entail.

But you- You have work tomorrow, and- and responsibilities—

“Hush,” he goes, voice muffled, having some preternatural ability to tell just what you’re thinking. He drifts a hand up your belly to splay over the valley of your breast. Your heart thumps beneath his callous palm like a metronome. Like a ticking clock, counting down the seconds or hours before you need to get up and get ready. Start a day in which you leave home, leave Sylus, and spend the rest of it longing to get back.

“Just take the day off.”

Grudgingly, you lie your head back. It’s… not a great idea, but as your rationale clouds, it seems like your best one.

“O-Okay.”

As a hot, long tongue stripes up your pussy and then his other hand, the one he used to comfort you in his own weird way, slinks downward again- the ceiling becomes too boring to bear.

So you glance down.

He’s handsome as all get out. Really, a couple months ago when he first appeared to you as a human, that was all you could think as days passed and you became grossly aware that you were sharing a confined space with a man. That you had been all along— and your prancing around the apartment half-naked was just one of the countless spectacles he’d seen.

He never pounced, though. Never lunged. Never bit you like a dog or hurt you like a man, even when every bit of his crude exterior screamed hazardous. He was a good boy. And you don’t care what form he takes; he took you as you are, didn’t he? When you were scared of your own shadow and a little snippy because of it. He let you hold the leash to his heart and snarled at anything that came too close- protected you against your piece of crap ex without prompting. Turned your fear into a mellow thing.

Warmth prods at your heart. Loosens your legs up where they clench around his head.

That day at the pound turns in your memory like a spindle.

You could’ve lost him. He- He could’ve been gone forever hadn’t you showed.

…But you did show. For the shitty time you’d been having, Sylus was your one silver lining. You were there for each other as a shoulder to lean on and a hand to hold.

Your fingers tug gently on his scalp. Fruity shampoo breathes out from the blanket when you flip it over his head to allow him better access. Nerves eat you from the inside out. You’ve seen the looks, the hungering glances and felt the fingertips that linger in seemingly innocent touches:

Finally experiencing the culmination of his quiet longing is a whole different game, though.

Slurps ring out from your thighs. Your sighing, candied words- spoken in that ridiculous tone reserved only for him- make his ears perk atop his head.

“Good boy,” you breathe. “Y-You’re perfect.”

He rewards your obedience with a finger, thick and delightful. You gasp and arch your back into his hands- or, his one hand- a throaty moan rippling from his open mouth. The several little muscles in his face go lax when you coyly guide him deeper into your cunt and he melts.

“You taste delicious,” he whispers. “Sweet girl. I can-“ a deep, shivering inhale. Not from you- from him. “I can smell how much you want it…. You’re soaked.”

You mewl his name and almost reach full relaxation ‘til you glance back down and, with the covers off, spot where his other hand disappears. He’s naked- not in the boxer briefs and sweatpants you’d bid him goodnight in- and holds his fat, upright cock in his hand.

And his hand is big. Can dwarf every part of you with its hold.

His cock is somehow bigger.

Your heart leaps from your chest as he eyes you. He’s daunting. Every bit intimidating and then some- especially as you realize he won’t be just content with kitten licking your pussy, delicious as it is, and ending the intimate moment right afterward.

Dogs will always take the bowl if you slide them one: and then look to you later for seconds.

Point is- he’s insatiable.

You shiver as raunchy images flash in your brain— rough fingers pinning back your thighs as he rams inside you, setting a relentless pace as he bites and sucks and claims.

In your imagination, he doesn’t pull out when he comes.

…What really takes your breath is the engorged knot at the base of him, though, flushed an impatient red. Fattening by the second.

Cum- not pre- dribbles from the tip. For how long he’s been at this, you don’t know.

“Sylus-!” You mean to shriek it, but you can only manage a whispering scream. “Wait, wait, wait! what do you have in your hand-!“

A grin plays at his lips. Crooked, recalcitrant.

Challenging.

He’s hardly lucid, what with the delicious heat emanating from the slick lips he stuffs a second finger in, to acknowledge your question, so it’s surprising when he pulls back a centimeter to make an answer. Lust grips him tight— the need to fuck and take and mount— but that concerned, cute little bump in your brow is one he wants to smooth.

It’s the least he can do.

“Take a guess,” he sussurates, licking slowly up your inner thigh. Torturing you. “It’ll be in yours soon though, kitten, so get ready.”

Your eyes bulge from your skull.

His response: a low chuckle paired with a moan.

From that point on, even as he suckles expertly at your puffy clit, working you to a sniveling mess as you scream on his fingers, you’re focused entirely on what he’s doing below the blanket. He palms at himself- it’s all he can do to relieve the ache as he wrestles with his fraying self-control- massaging his balls and knot as they throb.

When he withdraws his digits from you, eyes drooping at the cream coating his knuckles before fluttering back at the taste of it— you lie back down and gulp.

Taking work off today is a good idea. You can already think of a few excuses. Not being able to walk properly is one of them. Being unable to get out of bed… Feeling so sore and feverish after he’s fucked you into pyrexia that you can’t even move an inch without being reminded of it.

He straightens. The cover slips off him entirely and he’s tall. Hulking. Painting you in his shadow- but the moonlight brings out the sheer hunger on his face, and you alight with warmth all over again.

You hope he’s primed you. You pray he’s done good to prepare you for what’s to come. Because oh, it’s coming. You know that.

“Now,” he heaves, dragging your legs either side of him as he kneels. You can tell he’s not well off, trying to muster a cocksure grin but failing as he perspires at the temple. “To the good part.”

You frown at that, almost- a pang of hurt weaving through the haze of desire and the smell of your musk on his fingers as he licks them clean again, ever thorough. He notes the flicker of your brow with a thoughtful pause and then a sigh, shaking his head as he grabs your jaw and angles his front down.

He chuckles, and you experience a singular flash of softness when he goes, “Oh, so sensitive… Don’t pout. I thoroughly enjoyed the opening too, kitten.”

You’re shaking. Insides molten with the pure want for him to just- to just do something already. There’s no opportunity to come down from your high because you feel his cock bob against your tummy as he sets himself up, and you burn anew.

Oh, you love him. You really do. He’s endearing in all the places he shouldn’t be. He’s charming and strong and willing to fight for you. So you don’t care if he’s a little old and slow on the uptake when it comes to new tricks- territorial and intimidating. He’s yours.

Eyes half open, you lift your hands to trail from his pecs to his firm, scarred belly. With a hiss, he trembles. Catches your wrists and tuts at you a second later, saying, “It’s better to keep those at your side. Once you get me going, I won’t be easy to stop.”

And you’d be half tempted to tease him some more, you know, but fuck if he isn’t massive. And fuck if you aren’t a little scared for it.

So you clutch the sheets as he drives himself inside with a grunt, and settle below him. You trust he’ll take care of you.

The entrance is, at first, surprisingly smooth, what with the natural lube you’ve provided for him. You let him lift your ass and bend you into a bow-shaped thing so he can hit deeper- and that’s when there’s some turbulence.

Your fingers curl into the cotton fabric. You brace and wait for the sting to subside. When you realize your eyes are clamped shut, though, you open them to see his expression and pall at the sight of him.

He’s gorgeous. Even when he looks like he’s ready to sneeze- brow scrunched and jaw slack as he dragoons himself inside, tormentingly slow- he’s nothing less than charming through your lens. But you’re thankful for the time he gives you to adjust because you need it.

Frankly, if he intends to put his knot inside— and he fucking won’t, there’s just no way— the walls of your pussy need the patience on his end.

For several seconds, Sylus does not breathe. You’re sizzling hot; when he eventually bottoms out, he can’t tell where he starts and you end- all he knows is that it’s gooey and warm and so fucking tight his balls throb. He deliquesces between your thighs. You welcome him, your body like a landing pad.

He supposes, right then, you’ve always been very hospitable.

Sylus curses. “Ngh, you’re tight... Loosen up,” he presses his forehead to yours and hisses out through his teeth. His eyes glitter like rhodolite in the dark. Reverent hands run down your side and clasp your hip. With your slick still coating his lips- tangy sweet, you find, as he presses them to yours- you realize he’s worshipful. The moonlight pouring in the blinds makes his silhouette glow a true blue.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs, swiping over your bottom lip with his tongue. “Sweet, and soft. And a very good girl. I’ve got your back. You know that, don’t you?” Then, he draws his hips back and—

Your little bed judders. But the squeak that sounds out is yours as he ruts back inside and your labia brushes with his knot.

He won’t put it inside. He won’t. You’re sure of it. Mutts only do that when they’re mating. Mutts only do that. Sylus is- is so much more than that, and….

“Mmm,” an uncontrollable moan escapes you as he begins to move, like really move, and your eyes roll.

With some difficulty, he continues. “You’re naive. Plucking something like me from its cage. But I admire your bravery, kitten, so— f- uck— let me just show you, hm? How far my loyalty goes?”

Void of words, you nod.

The reindeer-patterned bedsheets aren’t enough. Your hands leave them in favor of Sylus, grasping around his back so tight your fingertips can make out the raised scars there. Planes of muscle flexing with divots with every thrust forward.

Offhandedly, he hits that sweet spot inside you. Your nails dig in by accident, and you say his name, stringing out the syllables in a delightful, dizzying mewl.

The floodgates- they burst open. Something in him gives.

He rams forward, abandoning his restraint altogether as his furry, salt-and-peppered tail whacks the mattress beneath you. That fat swell below his cock teases at your sweltering hole with every pump inside, and Sylus burrows his nose into your sweaty neck to whimper.

You’ve never heard such a noise escape him before. Huffs, grumbles, long, exaggerated sighs he makes whenever he finds a nice spot to lay down (usually on you), as if he pays the rent around here— but never that.

He whines, words strained, “Think you can take my knot? Hah… Nod your head for me, kitten- because I don’t think that I can stop it. I can’t wait any longer. I need you to…” he shudders, “take it.”

One moment you’re nervously glancing down to monitor him- and the next he’s nudging your head back with his nose before crashing his lips to yours. Your eyes widen when he flips you over, presses his chest to your back, and thrusts inside with vigor.

With the new angle, you stretch around him with a mewl, but every bone in your body locks when his hips slam flush to your ass and—

His knot pops inside with a gasp.

Throwing your hands to the strong ones he latches around your midriff, you wail. He clings to you like a limpet, his thighs trembling behind yours as he moans endlessly in your ear. Pointed teeth graze at the nape of your neck. He doesn’t bite- but amidst the warp of pain and a pleasure so intense it gives you vertigo, you distantly realize that he probably wants to.

He holds himself off. Breath hitching as his pelvis claps into you. Euphoria rolls across him, shocks him like a static bolt, every fiber of his being awash with it as his jaw falls open and he succumbs to you.

When he comes, it’s so hard his ears ring.

The walls of your pussy become less hospitable, then, clenching around him so tight as you both cum that for a moment, he can’t even say a word to ease you. He aches inside you- you can feel it. The girth of him twitching as your heat swallows him up with a spasm. His knot takes all thought from your brain. Stuffed inside your poor hole, tumid and veiny.

You feel him coalesce with you, too. Eagerly rutting his seed inside (ensuring it sticks, you realize when he drops a finger to your folds, checking for leakage), releasing rope after rope of hot cum as you go limp and take it.

You offer up a choked mewl when he kisses at your spine, brushing your hair aside just to access your neck where he licks and sucks. You trust Sylus not to get carried away with a bite if he did, to lose out to what he’s been taught.

Evidently, he doesn’t trust himself.

Your fingers dig into his thick, scarred forearm and he sighs behind you- a long, feeble sound. He’s barely able to keep himself draped over you- let alone support your own position beneath him, what with the soup you’ve made of his brain- but he manages.

Silence sprawls out as you attempt to steady your breaths. All that comes in between it is the occasional, wet squelch and the gusting inhales he takes at the column of your neck.

“It… hurts. So good…” he hisses after several beats. Only marginally brought back to reality, you flutter your eyes open and offer a yip back. “You’re doing so well, though… Just-“ He twitches inside you, then, throbbing like a second pulse point, his cock undulating in your walls, greedily taking up all the space.

“Fuck. Stay still, sweet girl,” he grunts, harebrained. His eyes crinkle and close. “I want it all inside. Don’t wanna see so much as a drop escape that perfect, tight pussy. Hah- you hear me?”

“Y-Yes,” you quiver back. Speaking is too difficult, you realize a second later, shoving your open mouth into the pillow as you pant for air.

Yet, you can’t help but ask with a slur, “Sylus- when- when will it be over?”

He moans, right in your ear. Goosebumps run up your naked body- all that clothes you.

“It’s too big,” you cry.

“No,” he quips. “It’s just right.”

As if on cue, your cunt gives another squeeze around him, milking him for all he’s worth. In response, he bows his forehead into the crook your shoulder and jaw make to bury a whine, and your mind spins when you register his balls, hanging fat against your ass, lurching. And oh, you’re spilling, you can feel it, beginning to ooze profusely from your puffy lips even as he keeps it plugged; really, even if Sylus wanted to separate from you (he doesn’t), he couldn’t.

There’s nothing in him that wants the distance. The idea of self-autonomy. The idea of independence. No- he’s all yours.

“We’ll wait it out,” he breathes. Coasting a hand along your belly in an effort to placate you. He knows it can’t be easy for you. But the world— that stupid, irksome ex-boyfriend of yours— needs to understand where your heart belongs. There’s no better way to show that than to demonstrate it first with the body.

And you—

(Bitten by his branding kiss, supple skin covered with the divots of his teeth, your belly full of his veritable seed-)

Well. Nobody should look at you, he decides in his spirit right then, and come to any other conclusion but the one that you’re his.

Unmistakably, irrevocably, his.

“It’ll subside soon enough,” he soothes with a peck to your throat, a surprisingly chaste move. He loops his arms around your waist again and carefully- mindful not to exacerbate the heady ache- maneuvers on his side, pulling your back to his front. He whispers at your ear, “So long as you don’t move or stir me up, we’ll be fine.”

Yet, a set of canines brush at your jugular, and again- there’s that inkling, this time in better clarity, that passes your conscience. You know he wants to bite. To mark. To claim. You know it and have the vague idea of all it entails, yet he… won’t.

With a frown, cursing as you turn ever so slightly and his fat knot shifts inside you, you hazily meet his eyes.

His are practically glowing, laying heavy on you. Charting across your face the moment they make contact, observing every brief flicker of your expression to try and assign a feeling— happiness, he hopes, contentedness— to it. His lashes totter and you burn with shame when a lewd suck rings between your legs, his cock wet all the way down to the slight plush of his abdomen.

You don’t mean to pout, “why won’t you-“

“Not yet, Kitten,” he scolds. Trying to swallow down a pit of self-consciousness in your throat, you murmur, “What, do you not want me?” Sylus huffs as if offended. His eyes drag from your lips to your searching eyes.

“Really, kitten? …What, should I give you an equally stupid answer?”

Oh, you’d tug his tail if you had the luxury of moving right now-

“Of course I want you. Can’t you tell?” He sighs, then, burrowing his nose into your neck almost to hide. His ears droop along his head, donning a relaxed look.

“So. Did you like it..?”

“Y-Yeah…” you murmur, carefully looping a hand back to stroke behind his fuzzy ears. “But, I just… I thought you’d really do it, I thought you’d really tie us together-“

He chuckles richly. “We’re already tied together, kitten,” peppering another kiss below your jaw, licking appreciatively at the sweat that clings to soft skin. “I’ve belonged to you for some time now, haven’t I?”

Your heart skips a beat when you realize he’s right.

“I- I guess so. Yeah.”

“So no more whining,” he lifts his chin to sample your lips, this time- his knot still throbbing white-hot and insistently inside you (albeit the ache is lessening)- eyes lidded as he conveys his affections.

“I’ll do it when we’re both ready. When…” He pauses to swallow.

In that short frame of time before he next speaks, you’re drawn to all his scarring. The faded ligature marks around his neck, the seemingly permanent gnashes along his body (which was a touch too lean before you familiarized him with good food). The nip taken from one of the ears sat atop his silvery, mussed locks. In that moment, you don’t see the misshapen, loveless thing he was beaten into— but rather the softness he worked to regain for you.

“When I know it’s manageable.”

If he feels unsure of himself- whether he can remain… civil, for lack of a better word, amidst the fervent haze that a mark would bring about— then you suppose you could wait for a bit longer.

“Okay,” you murmur with a faint, understanding smile, caressing one half of his face dotingly. You tilt your head slightly to plant a firm, benevolent kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“But you’ll always be a good boy to me, okay? I trust you. I told you before- you’re perfect-“ Rather roughly, he noses your head back into the pillow, readjusting his iron hold around you as he grumbles into your hair.

“…Hush. Now close your eyes and go back to bed. I’ll tell you when it’s ready to pull out.”

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔, + 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 ♡

[shawtuzi]

JJK MEN AS: my favorite sexy songs hehe

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ pairing: suguru x reader, satoru x reader, toji x reader, nanami x reader, sukuna x reader

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹ cw include: [suguru] possessive!sugu, he’s kinda mean :((, kinda public sex?? they fuck in a bathroom idk man, unprotected sex, rough sex, he gags her w her panties, spanking, some choking, creampie bc DUH, [satoru] pathetic!toru, he’s so down bad but so sweet, oral f!receiving, gojo cums in his pants while eating her out, unprotected sex, backshots, choking, [toji] drug usage (weed) oral m!receiving, needy!reader, throat fucking, he’s kinda rough, riding, biting, and you guessed it…a creampie!!, [nanami] shibari, use of a vibrator, oral m!receiving, unprotected sex, prone bone position, creampie, baby makin’ sex, [sukuna] i made him nice in this, public sex (nobody can see them), sex on top of a car, unprotected sex, semi rough sex, he pulls out!! shockingly, oral f!receiving, choking, squirting anddddd i think that it about it!!!! wc: 6.5k

a/n: i do NOT condone all the unprotected sex in this!!! yall better be safe 🫵🏽/// mdni boarder credit: @cafekitsune

SUGURU GETO: haunted- beyoncé

‘my haunted lungs, ghost in the sheets. i know if i’m haunting you, you must haunting me.’

“s-sugu,” you mewled against the man’s lips, hissing when you felt his hands tug roughly at your hair. suguru brought his hand to your face, pushing on your chin with his thumb to part your lips even more. once he had enough access he wasted no time shoving his tongue in your mouth, groaning at the sweet yet bitter taste of the wine you’d previously been drinking.

he just couldn’t get enough of you.

you and suguru had coincidentally ended up at the same hotel bar, the two of you engaging in a silent battle of who would talk to the other first. it wasn’t until you got up to use the restroom that sugu threw all caution into the wind and followed you, quick to push you against the nearest stall.

“missed you baby, couldn’t stop thinking about you for days,” he growled, bunching up the material of your dress to the tops of your thighs. “how’d you know i’d be here? i w-was waiting on someone,” your lips had the cutest pout, your brows furrowing as you finally got a good look at him.

his pupils were the size of saucers, holding nothing but desire and want for no one else but you.

suguru chuckled, his head tilting back as he laughed. “your little boy toy? i wouldn’t worry about him,” he hummed, cradling your face in his large hands. suguru shoved his ring and middle finger in your mouth, humming in content when you swirled your tongue around the digits. your breath hitched when you felt those same fingers press against your clit, the dull throb from it had suguru’s pants feeling extra tight.

“w-what’d you do to him suguruuu,” you whined, hands reaching out for his broad shoulders to steady yourself. geto didn’t answer, simply done talking about the irrelevant man.

without warning suguru flipped your body, pressing your front against the stall door. his hands gripped onto your hips, traveling up to your breasts to give them a squeeze. “i don’t want to talk about another man, not when i’m about to fuck you stupid,” you heard the clank! of his belt being undone, your heart skipping a beat when you heard his zipper next.

“y-you have no right to interfere with my da—hates!” you felt like the air had been punched from your lungs when he slipped inside your pussy in one go, his teeth biting onto your shoulder to hide his groans. suguru didn’t move an inch, wanting you to feel how much he missed you with each throb of his dick against your squishy walls. his once perfectly styled bun was now almost completely disheveled, his baby hairs tickling the side of your face.

“you feel me honey? feel how much i love n’ miss you?” his voice sounded breathless, boarder line drunk. suguru grinned when he felt the plushness of your ass grind against his front. he’ll take that as a yes.

suguru pulled almost all the way out, leaving just the tip in before slamming back inside of you, his hand slapping against your mouth to cover your squeals n moans. “you really fuckin’ piss me off you know that?” his free hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

“you give me the best sex of my life, make me feel like i’m on cloud nine every time i’m with you n’ then you leave me? fuck that,” his forehead fell against your shoulder, teeth digging into his bottom lip.

your eyes fluttered shut when you felt him hit that special spot deep inside you, fat tears welling up in your eyes. you wanted to push him off, tell him to fuck off and leave you alone for good—but the thing about that is you really really didn’t want to. as much as he was an overly possessive asshole no one, and i mean no one could ever fuck you like he could. he had your bodies likes and dislikes down to a tee the first time he ever slept with you and it only got better from there <//3

you heard a small tear, your eyes widening when you suddenly felt more exposed. suguru removed his hand from your mouth, but before you could even get a sound out you felt the soft material of your panties being shoved in your mouth.

“you’re so cute,” suguru pressed a sloppy kiss to the side of your face before gripping onto your hips, picking up the pace of his thrusts. your hands pressed against the stall for balance, nearly on your tippy toes in attempt to escape his brutal pace. suguru was absolutely mesmerized by the way your ass clapped against his pelvis, a shiny, white sheen of your essence coating his dick.

suguru’s thrusts stopped when he felt your hand tap urgently against his toned stomach. he swiftly pulled out and turned you around, concern swirling in his eyes. “you okay sweetness?” he asked, removing your panties from your mouth, his thumb wiping off the drool on your chin. you bit your kiss swollen lip, nodding.

“i just…wanted to see your face when you finish in me,” your cheeks felt blazing hot as you looked down bashfully. suguru’s nostrils flared, his chest heaving. you were absolutely gonna be the death of this man.

“jump.”

you made quick work to jump in his arms, your legs wrapping around his waist. he slipped in with ease, the both of you moaning in unison. suguru’s strokes were slow, yet so so deep you swore you felt him in your tummy. “s’good sugu,” your hands were quick to take out the elastic holding his hair up, your fingers combing through the soft locs.

“i know baby, i know. ‘missed you so much, did you miss me?” you wanted to say no, deny him the satisfaction of hearing you say you indeed did miss him but fuck it! you really did miss your sugu.

a particular harsh thrust broke you out of your thoughts, making you gasp violently. “y-yes i did! i missed you so m-much sugu,” you pulled him close by his hair, giving him a bruising kiss. suguru moaned loudly into the kiss, his hips stuttering as he finally began to finish inside of you. his fingers were quick to rub at your clit, his eyes rolling back when you squeezed tightly around him.

your thighs trembled as suguru fucked you through your orgasm, the loud squelching of your pussy echoing throughout the bathroom. “good fuckin’ pussy,” suguru grunted in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the shell of it.

suguru set you down carefully, chuckling to himself when you grabbed onto him for dear life to steady yourself. “you’re such an asshole,” you muttered, picking your ripped, discarded panties up off the floor. he gave you a toothy grin, plucking the garment from your hands and shoving it into his pocket. “mm i know i am, now let’s get outta here your date gave me the keys to the room he booked for the two of you.”

as he ushered you out of the bathroom you looked up at him, your brows furrowing in confusion, “are you gonna tell me how the fuck you found out about him? this date?” suguru chuckled, his hand wrapping around your waist—

“don’t worry about that gorgeous.”

SATORU GOJO: the way- kehlani ft chance the rapper

‘all i do, is stay up all night losin’ sleep over you. all i do, is drive myself crazy thinkin’ bout my baby.’

“i miss herrrr!”

“toru please shut up and focus on the game.”

“but i miss herrr,” satoru’s head fell against his keyboard with a thud! making geto sigh in defeat.

“why don’t you just call her th—”

“i have been! she won’t answer!” satoru felt tears well up in his eyes as he stared at his texts with you. all he saw was blue bubbles from himself, along with ‘read’ at the bottom. he swiped over to the photos app, sighing sadly at his album of pictures dedicated to you.

why oh why were you so precious?

he clicked on a video he took of you while you were crocheting, sniffling at how cute you looked so concentrated on the hat you were making. he swiped to the next; a video of you sitting on top of his stomach, blunt between your fingers as you sang along to whatever song was playing.

“i feel like i’m gonna throw up sugu, i miss her so much,” he continued to swipe through the folder, a whine bubbling in his throat at a certain video. you were out at a club together and while you were grinding in his lap satoru whipped out his phone, flash on and everything, capturing the entire thing. you looked so pretty in that dress. you looked even prettier with it pushed up to your waist while he fucked you from the back.

satoru was broken out of his thoughts when geto spoke up, “just go over there man. the worst she can do is mace you, or like, call the cops.” gojo huffed, his lips puffing up into a pout.

“you’re right m’gonna go talk to her.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ

“go away!”

you winced when you felt gojo’s body fall against your door, a sound of defeat leaving his lips. “please pretty baby m’so sorry, you know i am!” satoru clutched the flowers in his hand, hot tears brimming his eyes. you huffed, pressing your back against the door. be strong. be strong.

“you missed our date, that’s one date too many! you didn’t even call to let me know! i got all pretty for nothing,” your brows furrowed, a fresh wave of anger running over you. “all to be at home on your ass watching baddies, without me might i add!”

“i’m sorryyyy! i really am just let me in!” his shoulders slumped when he heard you yell back ‘no!’, the pout on his lips deepening.

“y/n…i’m so sorry i forgot about our date i promise it won’t ever happen again. won’t ever let you waste a look on me again i swear. it’s been almost a week and—and i can’t sleep, i can’t eat, i c-can’t even play on my pc!”

he’ll admit he probably sounded like the biggest drama queen but these were desperate times! he’s never met a girl that took such good care of his heart the way you did. the way you let him feel every ounce of love and care you had for him with a single touch. my mans down bad mmkay?!

“baby? you still there?”

your hand was already on the door knob before he even finished his sentence, you just wanted to hear him grovel a bit. “yeah m’here,” you muttered, getting on your tippy toes to look at him through the peephole.

“is that food i see?” you mumbled, eyeing the bag in his hands. gojo nodded eagerly, holding the bag up. “spicy ramen with two things of vegetable tempura from your favorite place,” his lips quirked up into a small smile, you could never say no to your favorite ramen.

he heard some shuffling on the other side of the door before you opened it. he could’ve ate you up the way you looked so cute in your fluffy robe….oh wait—

“satoruuuu,” you head fell back against your pillow, thighs shaking against the snow haired man’s head. gojo moaned against your pussy, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he slobbered all over your clit. his large hands wandered from your thighs, to your tummy, to your exposed breasts.

“missed you so much sweetness,” he whispered to your pussy, giving your thigh a sloppy kiss. his hooded, icy blue eyes flit to yours, “missed you even more pretty baby.” before you could say anything back his lips were back on your clit, caressing it gently with the tip of his tongue. his hips ground into your bed, only adding to how overstimulated he was.

“m’gonna cum toru,” you mewled, fighting to keep your thighs open. gojo pulled you closer to his face by your hips, “me too baby, cum on my face.” you had no idea what that meant at the moment but regardless you did as he said, giving him your third orgasm of the night. satoru let out a pornographic moan against your pussy as his own orgasm hit him like a truck, his hips stuttering against the beg as he drank up your essence.

gojo laid his head on your trembling thigh, nipping the twitching skin. despite cumming in his pants he was still hard, painfully hard actually. with shaky hands satoru pushed himself up, his hands running over the silkiness of your thighs. you gasped when you suddenly felt his lips against yours, your cum smearing from his chin onto yours. one thing about satoru gojo; he was the king of sloppy kisses.

“you ready for me beautiful?” he moaned against your lips, his hips now grinding into yours. you nodded and gojo wasted no time ditching his clothes, making quick work to rid you of your robe. you turned your back to him, arching into the bed, giving him a view of your glistening pussy. gojo gave his dick a few strokes before pushing it between your folds, fat, sticky tip nudging against your clit.

“you’re a fucking dream,” satoru slurred, finally slipping into your pussy. your eyes rolled into the back of your head, mouth dropping open at the delicious stretch of him. once he was all the way in, he leant forward a tiny bit, his pelvis smushing against your ass. “t-too deep toru! too de—deep,” you whined, your hand coming back to slap at his stomach.

gojo chuckled, moving back to his original stance, “just wanted you to feel me wayyy in there.” and with that he was locked in—leg propped up on the bed to give you the meanest strokes known to man. your nails clawed at your sheets, pussy gripping onto satoru’s dick like a vice.

“so fuckin’ wet pretty baby,” gojo moaned, teeth clamping onto his kiss swollen lip. how stupid could he have been to almost lose something so so good? satoru wrapped his hand around your neck, pulling you roughly against his chest. you turned your head, immediately catching his lips in a heated kiss. his free hand cupped your breast, tweaking at your nipple, making you whine into his mouth.

“missed you so much gorgeous.”

“missed you more toru♡”

TOJI FUSHIGURO: james joint- rihanna

‘i’d rather be breaking things cause we can’t see, we’re too busy kissing.’

“you’re so good at that toji.”

you watched him with hearts practically in your eyes as he sealed up the blunt for the two of you. toji chuckled, leaning down to give your cheek a sweet kiss. “thank you baby, hand me that lighter would ya?” you were quick to reach for the lighter next to you, giving him a dreamy smile as you handed it to him. you weren’t high on weed yet, but you were definitely high on your man.

“alright s’all done, let’s get comfy. it’s your turn to pick a movie gorgeous,” toji laid on his side of the bed, head propped up with one of your squishmallows. you laid on his chest, remote in hand as you looked for a movie. you picked ‘texas chainsaw massacre’ because it was his favorite of course. toji gave the crown of your head a kiss before lighting the blunt, his hand finding purchase on your waist.

as the movie went on you became more high and restless. before you knew it you were running your fingers over the ridges of his abs over his shirt, teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. toji was too immersed in the movie to notice your hand was now underneath his shirt, running across his chest and abdomen.

suddenly he felt a tug on the waistband of his sweats. “what’re you doin’ down there,” he chuckled, giving your hip a loving squeeze. you let out a long sigh, sitting up, moving to sit on his stomach. “you just look sooo good toji,” you gave him a dopey smile, running your hands over his pecs. you pressed your forehead against his, “especially when i’m on top of you like this…so handsome.”

toji ran his tongue over his bottom lip, tilting his chin up to let you know he wanted a kiss. you happily obliged pressing your soft lips against his, your hands now cradling his face. you nibbled at toji’s bottom lip, wasting no time to slip your tongue in his mouth once his lips parted. “mm you keep kissin’ me like that n’ we’re not gonna be able to finish the movie,” he mumbled against your lips, grabbing a handful of your ass over your pj shorts.

“fine by me,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. after a few minutes of kissing you began kissing your way down his jaw to his neck, kissing and sucking on the skin. toji groaned, bucking his hips up into you. you pushed his shirt up, now kissing down his chest, stopping at the waistband of his sweats. “can i? please?” you gave him your best doe eyes, already tugging at the elastic.

“could never say no to you, pull it out for me pretty girl,” toji chuckled, running his thumb over your bottom lip, a groan bubbling in his throat when you started to suck it. you always loved giving toji head when he was high. he a little looser when it came to being rough with you, he didn’t try to hold himself back as much.

that’s how he ended up fucking your throat, head tossed against your plushies while he used you. your eyes squeezed shut, nails digging into his thighs as he fucked your throat damn near raw. you gasped wetly when he pulled his dick out of your mouth, smacking the muscle against your lips. “you take my shit so good, i oughta be rougher with you more often,” toji gave you a lazy smirk, tracing his tip over your pouting lips.

“you should…i like it,” you couldn’t help but look anywhere but his eyes as you said it, your cheeks heating up. “you’re so cute,” toji grinned, pushing down on your chin to open your mouth wider. he slowly pushed his dick in your mouth, groaning when he felt the tip of your tongue lick against the underside. you gagged rather hard when he pushed your head all the way down, your nose bumping into his pelvis. tears began to well up in your eyes and you just looked so cute, he couldn’t help wanna take a picture of you.

“look at me,” toji grunted, tugging at your hair. you blinked slowly, looking at him through your lashes. he was holding his phone up, teeth digging into his bottom lip. he warned you of the flash before taking a picture, dick jumping in your throat at just how gorgeous you looked with a mouthful of his dick. your eyes were red n glossy, practically eye fucking the camera.

you pulled off of toji’s dick with a pop! wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before speaking, “lemme ride you.” toji tossed his phone with quickness, his hands already tugging at the waistband of your shorts. you pulled off your shorts, knees settling beside toji’s hips, your dripping pussy hovering over his leaking tip. you slipped his dick in with ease, your pussy hugging his base as you slid down till your ass was snug against his thighs.

toji let out a deep sigh, rough hands settling on your waist. “every time i’m inside it’s like the first time, squeezin’ me so tight baby goddamn,” you whimpered at toji’s words, your hands pushing on his pecs for support to help you ride him. toji grabbed a handful of your ass, eyes flitting to the wet mess between the two of you. each time you slammed back down a squelching sound followed, your wetness dripping onto his thighs and the bed.

“you look so—fuck, so pretty, baby, can’t believe you’re real,” toji chuckled breathlessly, hissing when reached a hand behind you to play with his balls. all you could do was give him a weak smile, your free hand yanking up your shirt to give him a nice lil view of your tits. toji wasted no time cupping your breasts in his hands, fingers tugging at your nipples.

“hah! m’gonna cum toji,” your thighs trembled as you tried to ride him as best as you could, but the way his tip hit that spongy spot deep inside you wasn’t making it easy at all. toji brought one of his hands down to rub at your clit, thumb drawing vicious circles into your sensitive nub. you came with a squeal, body falling limp against toji’s as you rode your high out by grinding into him.

toji couldn’t a get word out before you were smushing your lips against his, whining about how you were ready to go again. “you sure baby? maybe you should take a little breather yeah?” toji ran his hand up and down your back, grinning when you began to protest. “mm well that’s fine but—” he planted his feet into the bed, lips brushing against your ear, “i’m not gonna be easy on you.”

that was more than fine with you.

toji grabbed your ass with both hands before fucking up into you, groaning into your ear when he felt you tug at his hair. you pressed your lips into his once more, toji drinking up each moan that slipped past your pretty lips. “that feel good baby? hm? talk to me, i wanna hear you,” he sucked on your bottom lip, nibbling on the plushy skin. you whined against his lips, the smell of his aftershave making you dizzy.

“feels s’good toji, y-you’re always so good to—s-shit! to me, so so good thank you thank you thank you,” you were babbling at this point, tears brimming in your eyes from overstimulation. it hurt so good you just couldn’t tell him to stop, let alone to slow down. toji hissed when felt your teeth dig into his shoulder, his pace faltering ever so slightly.

“s-shit do that again, you’re gonna make me cum baby, gonna make me cum so fuckin’ hard,” he growled into your ear, giving your ass two harsh smacks. you did as you were told, biting into the same spot on his shoulder, your tongue lolling out of your mouth to caress the mark. toji’s hips pushing into yours one last time, his arms squeezing around you impossibly tight as he emptied himself inside of you.

his orgasm triggered your own, your mouth dropping open in a silent scream as you creamed his dick. “f-fuck stop squeezing me babe it hurts,” toji let out a breathless laugh, giving your hip a rough squeeze. you shook your head, your nose nuzzling into his neck. “i can’t help it, it feels like im still cumming, like i gotta pee.” toji’s eyebrows raised in surprise, his lips pulling into a smirk.

“oh really?”

“yeah….why are you smiling?”

KENTO NANAMI: god is fair, sexy nasty-mac miller ft kendrick lamar

‘don’t you know your body been mine? i know you know i know.’

“honey, can i take this blindfold off yet?” kento chuckled, his back flopping against the mattress. it was your guys’ four year anniversary of being married and he had a pretty good idea of what you had planned for the rest of the night.

suddenly he felt a pair of warm hands on the tops of his thighs. “you can take it off now,” he heard you giggle, the warmth of your hands now gone. nanami sat up slowly, removing the blindfold with eagerness. he put his glasses on, his mouth dropping slightly once his eyes readjusted to the light.

you were on your knees wearing a pretty baby pink set of lingerie, there were ropes placed on either side of you. “i was thinking we could try that thing you brought up to me a while ago. i was a little nervous at first but m’ready now, i know you’ve been practicing,” you giggled at the last part, heat rising to nanami’s cheeks. it was true, he had been practicing shibari on himself just in case you showed interest. he’d also been doing extensive research—which usually led to him fisting his dick at the thought of you tied up all pretty like that.

kento got on his knees with you, his shaky hands reaching out to pull you close. “you really wanna do this? you don’t have to just because i want to,” he spoke softly, nudging his nose against yours lovingly. you hummed, bringing your hands up to scratch at his nape, “i promise i do. i think it’ll be really, um, hot being tied up like that,” you gave him a small smile, pressing your lips against his.

nanami had read that for your first time doing shibari with your partner it’s always best to bind them in your favorite sex position—hence why he has your on your tummy. it took some time and a lot of patience but he eventually had your arms tied behind your back in pretty knots, checking every couple of minutes to make sure it wasn’t too tight.

“how does that feel?” he asked, gently tugging at the ropes. you tried moving your arms and wrists but they weren’t budging—he really had been doing his research. “feels okay…not tight but, like, secure. keep going,” you gave him a smile of encouragement, resting your head against the mattress once more. nanami gave your cheek a sweet kiss, then another one on your shoulder, and then another one in the center of your back.

“m’gonna do your legs now, i’m gonna connect those ropes to the ones on your arms okay?” he ran his hand over your thigh, giving it a soft squeeze. “okay ken,” you gave him a verbal answer to put him more at ease and it seemed to work, his body visibly becoming less tense as he looped the ropes around your shins.

kento sat back on his knees, admiring his work with hearts in his eyes. you looked like an angel all tied up for him. “how does it feel pretty girl?” he spoke softly, brushing his thumb over the apple of your cheek.

“it feels good ken, can you touch me? please?” kento gave your cheek a kiss before getting up, rummaging through his bedside drawer to find the wand he used on you from time to time. “is it okay if i use this?” he asked, holding the wand in front of you, smiling when you nodded. he switched the wand on to the lowest setting, propping it between your thighs to sit directly on your clit.

your breath hitched, eyes fluttering when you felt him push the wand harder into your clit. “is that good baby?” nanami cooed, tracing hearts along your back. you preened into his touch, your nails digging into your palm,” yes ken, ‘feels really good.” you peeped the bulge in his dress pants, your chest feeling heavy at the thought of having him in your mouth. “kenny?” you whispered, gasping when you felt the wand being yanked from between your legs.

nanami was crouching by the bed, concern clouding his vision. were you hurt? were you starting to not like it?

you noticed his concerned stare, immediately reassuring him, “i’m good! i’m okay, i promise! i just, um, well—”

“what can i do for you darling?” his tone was tender as he spoke, thumb caressing your jaw. “well…i just wanna suck you off…” your voice was tiny as you spoke. after all these years of being together, being intimate with each other, he still made you so bashful.

nanami let out a noise of relief, giving your cheek a soft pat. “geez honey, you scared me half to death i thought you were were hurt!” after a sharing a moment of laughter together nanami placed the wand between your legs once more. “if you need me to stop, kick your legs against the bed three times ‘kay? i made the knots on your legs looser just case. don’t want you getting hurt at all right honey?” he cooed, leaning down to kiss your forehead when you nodded.

after turning up the setting on the wand he slowly began to undo his belt, giving you a warm smile as he did so. your mouth started to water when he pulled his dick out, tip leaking and begging for attention.

he didn’t have to say a word because you already knew what to do, your tongue sticking out waiting to please him. nanami let out a deep exhale through his nose when you kitten licked at his dick. he was about to remove his glasses when you suddenly let out a noise of disapproval. “keep them on please…you look so handsome with them on”, your voice was small as you spoke, your wrists struggling ever so lightly against the ropes. kento grinned, grabbing a nearby pillow to place it under your head for comfort, “of course honey, ‘can have whatever you want.”

kento fucked your mouth slowly, relishing in tiny mewls you would let out. your panties were a mess by now, the soft cotton material sticking to your folds. “look at you humping the bed, you’re so cute,” kento smirked down at you, running his thumb over the bulge in your cheek. you hummed around his dick, your hips circling to get more stimulation from the wand. he pushed his hips forward, groaning deeply when he felt your throat constrict around his tip.

you gasped when he abruptly pulled out of your mouth, your brows scrunching together bc why did he do that??

“as much as i love this and you for doing it for me i need to fuck you properly.” he carefully, but swiftly began to undo the knots, kissing your wrists and ankles as he did so. nanami grunted when you jumped into his arms, your lips littering his neck and throat with sloppy kisses. nanami squeezed your hips roughly, not being able to contain himself from peppering your shoulder with kisses. “be rough tonight, i can handle it ken,” you whispered in his ear, nibbling on the lobe.

that’s how you ended up on your tummy, head tucked between nanami’s arm and bicep while he fucked you rather roughly. sure, it was a challenge keeping his glasses on like this but it was all worth it to please his wife.

“k-ken why’re you fucking me like that,” you sobbed into the sheets, your legs crossing over themselves in attempt to slow him down. keyword attempt because the second you did that his knee forced your legs right back open. “aren’t you the one who asked for it rough honey? cmon use your words you can do it,” he rasped next to your ear, using his free hand to shove two fingers between your drooling lips.

kento grinned when you whined out an oh so cute ‘i don’t knowww’ over his fingers, your hot tears dripping onto his arm. “that’s right baby don’t think, just lemme think for you,” he gave you a particularly harsh thrust, triggering your long awaiting orgasm. he hissed when you bit down on his fingers, his hips pushing into your ass one last time as he finished inside you.

nanami released his grip, rolling you onto your side before pulling you into him. “that’s was good,” he hummed, caressing your back. you ran a shaky hand down his chest, stopping just above his dick. “lets go again, i have a feeling this one took but you can never be too sure with baby making right?” you nudged your nose against his, your hand now stroking his semi. nanami cupped the back of your neck in his hand, pressing your lips together—

“you’re absolutely right darling.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA: talk 2 u- brent faiyaz

‘if you don’t mind i wanna be the only one on your mind.’

“fuckkk y/n,” sukuna growled in your ear, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. your mouth dropped open, hand slamming down on the hood of sukuna’s car as he fucked you like a madman. you felt sooo much better than he could’ve imagined, pussy gripping onto him so tightly as if you just wanted to keep him there.

he had pursued you a few weeks prior, spitting out more game than you could handle which is how he eventually got you like this. he was just such a smooth talker. you weren’t able to contain yourself by the end of your third date, asking, no pleading with him to take you on top of his car.

“so big ‘kuna,” you whined into his ear, drool slipping from your lips and onto your exposed chest. sukuna pushed you down softly, throwing your legs over his shoulders before pounding into you once more. his teeth nibbled at his bottom lip, his eyes solely focused on the way your breasts bounced with each thrust.

“so pretty,” he rasped out, pressing a kiss to your ankle. as he littered your ankle and shin with kisses he eyes flit to your face, pupils dilating when he saw your fucked out expression. “i-i’m cumming ‘kuna, i’m—” your body tensed as you came with a loud moan. sukuna was only adding to the stimulation, now using his fat tip to tap against your clit.

he didn’t even give you a breather before he was pushing back inside, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. “such a good pussy baby, she’s so wet f’me,” sukuna leant down, capturing your nipple in his hot mouth. you scratched at his nape lovingly, your legs tightening around his waist. sukuna moved onto your other breast, his hand cupping the one he abandoned. he kissed, licked, n sucked all over your breasts until you were writhing in sensitivity, giving his hair a rough tug to yank him off.

sukuna pulled off your nipple with a pop! grinning at you as he gave it one last kiss. his once fast paced strokes were replaced with slower, deeper ones, reaching deeper inside you than anyone you’ve ever been with. “you like when i fuck you like that? hm?” sukuna’s forehead was now pressed against yours, his nose nudging against yours.

you physically couldn’t find it in you to reply, too fucked out to even form a sentence. sukuna wrapped his hand around your throat, applying little pressure, his thrusts stopping completely. “wha? w-why’d you stop?” you clawed at his leather jacket, your hips bucking up into his.

“i asked you a question didn’t i?” his voice was strained as he spoke, your pussy squeezing around him every second. the dull throb of his dick inside you sent shivers up your spine. “yes?” you had meant for it to sound more like a statement than a question, but he gave you some grace, seeing as you already fucked out beyond belief.

his grip around your throat tightened, “so answer me. do you *thrust* like when i *harder thrust* fuck you like that? *really hard thrust* you better answer quickly before i pull—”

“yes! yes yes, i like when you fuck me deep like that! please don’t stop ‘kuna,” your voice was trembling as you spoke, your hands moving to his face to cradle his jaw. sukuna kissed your palm, pulling out until only his tip was in you before slamming back in. your chest arched into his, your already sensitive nipples rubbing against the soft material of his shirt.

“that’s a good girl, now cum on my dick,” his thumb began to rub tight, little circles on your clit, cursing to himself when he felt his orgasm quickly approaching as well. you squealed out a symphony of ‘oh my god’s, you legs squeezing around his waist impossibly tight as your pussy convulsed around his dick. a steady stream of you cum shot out at his lower stomach only egging him on to fuck you harder, deeper.

“goddamn y/n, you’re fucking baptizing me down here,” sukuna’s words were slurred, his eyes feeling droopy as he felt the coil in his stomach about to burst. he abruptly pulled out, jerking his dick until he nutted all over your pussy, smearing his cum around your folds. “don’t do that s’gonna make it even more messy,” you whined, hiding your face behind your hands.

“none of that now, cmon lemme see you,” sukuna chuckled, gently prying your hands from your face. he couldn’t help but internally coo at you, your post sex face melting his heart. “you’re so cute, be my girlfriend,” his sudden change of tone caught you completely off guard.

“wh-what?” you sat up on shaky hands, sukuna bringing his hands to your waist to keep you steady. “i said,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and then your cheek, “be my girlfriend.” you couldn’t help the giddy smile that took over your face, your cheeks heating up. “mm i don’t know, im not quite sure yet,” you decided to tease him a little making him smirk.

“i guess ill just have to be a little bit more convincing then hm?” he kissed his way down your neck, his hands gently pushing you down once again. sukuna began to kiss on the inside of your thighs, nibbling on the soft skin and running his tongue over it afterwards. your thighs shut around his head out of instinct when you felt his breath against at your pussy. you moaned oh so softly when you felt his tongue cup your clit.

the way sukuna had no problem devouring your pussy that was still dripping with his and your cum together had your tummy twisting, itching to jump his bones again. he moaned against your pussy, his brows scrunching when you tugged roughly at his hair. “we taste pretty good together,” the way he looked at your cunt it was almost like he was talking to it (he definitely was).

the car creaked under you as sukuna pushed your knees to your chest, slurping at your pussy as if he were a man starved. you mouth dropped open in a silent scream when you felt him push two fingers inside, instantly curling them. “hah! hah! m’gonna cum again i can’t, i can’t,” you were almost crying at this point, hot tears brimming your lash line.

“yes you can baby, i know you can. been so good f’me all night i know you can make this pussy cum one more time,” the pace of his fingers never faltered as he talked to you, the tips bumping against that spongy spot that had you seeing stars. you’d never experienced an orgasm so hard it had you sobbing, yet here you were thighs shaking violently as sukuna furiously rubbed at your clit, milking your orgasm as much as possible. his chin and the top of his shirt were soaked, but he was as happy as could be.

“‘k-kuna?”

“yes pretty baby?”

“i’ll be your girlfriend ♡”

[satellite-evans]

just rain

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Lando claims his first win of the season in a rain-soaked Melbourne Grand Prix with a gentle reminder of his son.

Word count: 4k+

Warnings: fluff, anxiety

A/N:

picture credits @pucksandpitlanes <3

AHHHHHH LANDO WON IM SO HAPPY FOR HIM!!!! I couldn't watch bc of time zones but when is saw it in the morning I was soooo 🥹🥹🥹

also Alex being higher than the ferraris was NOT on my bingo card lol but im super excited for him too🤎

I overdramatized the race a bit and it is not 100 % accurate 😅

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The sky was breaking open.

What had been a perfect, cloudless Saturday — where everything had felt possible — was now a roaring mess of water and wind.

The same track that had held his first pole position of the season now looked like a stranger.

Lando stood by his car, helmet tucked under his arm, rain sliding off his race suit in steady streams, like the sky itself was crying for him.

He was trying — really trying — to get his head straight.

But it was hard.

Hard when the weight of every near-miss, every mistake, every podium that wasn’t a win pressed on his shoulders.

Hard when the image of Max in São Paulo, slicing through the rain like it wasn’t even there, looped in his mind, taunting him.

This was supposed to be his day.

Pole was supposed to mean something.

But now, all he could think about was how easily rain could take that away.

What if I mess it up? What if I lose everything? What if-

“Daddy?”

The small voice broke through the storm in his head like sunshine through clouds.

He turned.

There was Noah — rain dripping from the ends of his jacket, cheeks pink from the cold, eyes wide and honest and full of something Lando had lost in the last few hours: belief.

You hovered just behind him, watching quietly, giving them space.

Lando crouched down, resting his arms on his knees to meet Noah at eye level.

“Hey, buddy,” he said softly, though his throat felt tight. "You okay out here in the rain?"

Noah frowned, taking a step closer until he was right up in Lando’s space, hands reaching to tug gently at Lando’s suit.

“I am okay, but why are you not okay, Daddy?” he asked, tilting his head. "Aren’t you gonna win? You said you were gonna win."

Lando let out a breath, a shaky laugh that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

"I know, mate. I… I wanna win." His voice cracked at the end.

Noah blinked up at him, unbothered by the rain hitting his face. "Then why are you sad?"

Lando hesitated. What could he even say? Because sometimes winning feels impossible? Because I don’t know if I’m good enough? Because I'm scared?

Instead, he shrugged, offering a small, forced smile.

“It’s raining a lot,” he finally said, as if that explained the weight in his chest.

But Noah just gave him a look — the same look Lando had given you a thousand times when he thought you were worrying too much.

“It’s just rain, Daddy," Noah said matter-of-factly. "We like rain.”

Lando blinked, caught off guard.

"You always chase me in the rain," Noah continued, smiling now, that childhood certainty glowing in his eyes. "You say it makes you run faster. And you always catch me, even if I’m the fastest runner ever."

A soft laugh broke from Lando's lips, something warmer, something real.

"And Mommy always says we’ll get sick but you don’t care," Noah went on, as if this were the most important fact in the world.

"You say, 'It’s just rain, Noah. Rain makes us faster.’”

Lando’s throat tightened.

For a second, he couldn't speak.

Because in that moment, through all the noise and pressure and fear, his son had reminded him of something he’d forgotten:

Who he was.

Not just a driver. Not just a number on a screen.

But Noah’s dad. Your partner. Someone who could be brave when it mattered.

Lando reached out and pulled Noah into a hug, pressing his face into the crook of his tiny shoulder, breathing in the rain and the smell of his son — like grass and soap and home.

"You're right, little man," he whispered, voice thick. "It's just rain."

He pulled back, brushing wet curls from Noah’s face.

"And you think I'm faster than everyone, huh?"

Noah grinned, eyes lighting up. "You’re faster than everyone, Daddy! Even if it's raining forever!"

Lando let out a real laugh this time, warmth blooming in his chest.

He looked up to find you, standing there with your arms wrapped around yourself for warmth, but smiling, tears quietly mixing with the rain on your cheeks.

Their eyes locked for a moment, and you gave him a nod — small, but enough to say we believe in you.

Lando stood, keeping Noah’s little hand in his, squeezing gently.

“Okay, buddy. I’m gonna win that trophy for you.”

“Yay!” Noah beamed. “But you can keep it for your shelf... if you want.”

Lando chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of Noah’s head.

“No, I think it belongs in your room.”

Noah’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling with pride, as though his father had just promised to conquer the world for him. In that moment, the rain didn’t feel so heavy. The doubts that had plagued Lando’s mind were still there, but the weight of them didn’t seem quite as unbearable with Noah at his side.

And you — your smile, your quiet support — made the world seem possible again.

As they walked toward the pit lane, Lando felt a shift inside of him. The rain wasn’t a burden anymore. It was a challenge. A reminder that no matter how many times life tried to knock him down, he could always get back up. Just like he always did when Noah ran faster than him, laughing, his tiny feet splashing through puddles.

Lando squeezed his son’s hand tighter.

"Let’s show ‘em what we’ve got, buddy."

With a nod from Noah and a final glance at you, Lando felt the familiar rush of determination surge through him.

This wasn’t just about the race anymore.

It was about being the man he promised to be — not just for himself, but for the ones who believed in him.

The Australian Grand Prix was shaping up to be a classic.

As the cars lined up on the grid in Melbourne, the drizzle had kept the track damp, just enough to keep the tire choices uncertain. It wasn’t the heavy rain that everyone had feared, but it was far from perfect racing conditions. Still, Lando sat in P1, his hands firmly gripping the wheel, his focus set on one thing: keeping that lead.

The McLaren car was well-suited to the conditions, and Lando had a good start. The lights went out, and he got off the line clean, his heart racing in sync with the growl of the engine as he took off into Turn 1. He held his ground, blocking Max, who was gunning for the lead, while Oscar — his teammate and the home hero — was hot on his heels in P3.

The track was slick, but Lando’s experience in these tricky conditions helped him build an early gap. His McLaren was light and agile, its handling sharp as he darted through the twists of the Melbourne layout. Verstappen, however, wasn’t far behind. The Red Bull driver was a constant shadow, ready to pounce at the slightest mistake.

By the first pit window, the rain had picked up a bit more, turning the track into a quagmire of uncertainty. Tire choices were a gamble — intermediate tires or full wets? The crew had to decide quickly, and they were calling for intermediates as the rain began to settle. Lando glanced nervously at the sky but held his ground. “Let’s stay out a bit longer,” he told his team, his voice steady but with a hint of doubt. Don’t get greedy, just don’t make a mistake.

Max pitted early, pushing for the full wets as he believed the track was getting too slick for anything else. He rejoined the circuit behind Lando, but it was clear he was closing the gap, his tires cutting through the water more effectively than Lando’s.

Just as the McLaren pit crew started to signal for a pit stop — the conditions changing rapidly — the first Safety Car period was called. A rookie crashed heavily into the barriers, bringing the race to a halt. Lando’s heart raced again as he followed the Safety Car. Was this a blessing or a curse? The rain had intensified even further, and the conditions were treacherous. Oscar, who had been showing great pace, was caught out in the slippery conditions, skidding onto the grass, and although he tried to recover, he struggled to get back on track in time. He was forced to return to the pits, ultimately falling back to P13.

Now it felt like a battle between Lando, Max, and the rest of the pack. But just as they prepared to go racing again, the rain poured down harder, the track quickly becoming a slippery mess. It was a delicate balance for Lando, who was managing the lead with grit and skill but was well aware that Max was waiting to pounce.

The green flag waved again, and the cars shot back out into the mix, Lando still holding off the charging Verstappen.

Lap after lap, Lando danced on the edge of control. Every corner was a fight, every moment a test of his patience and skill. The McLaren’s rear end was constantly sliding out, but Lando somehow kept it in line. He could feel Verstappen breathing down his neck, waiting for him to make a mistake — and then, it came.

The rain intensified in a sudden downpour, and the track became a slick, unpredictable nightmare. The tires couldn’t keep up, and the grip was nonexistent. As Lando tried to brake for Turn 4, his tires locked up, and he was forced to take a detour through the gravel, his heart nearly stopping as he fought to stay on the track. He got back on just in time to gain his way back to P1.

Lando was far from done.

He set his sights forward, telling himself to focus — just focus. The rain was lashing down, but with each lap, Lando found his rhythm again, using the high-speed corners to his advantage, keeping the McLaren planted while others struggled.

A second Safety Car came out as Jack Doohan spun into the gravel, and just as quickly, the race was halted once again. The field bunched up, and Lando’s mind raced. He could feel the pressure of it all — a season opener, a potential win slipping through his fingers as Verstappen loomed behind him.

And then, when it seemed like he was about to lose his edge, Lando had a moment of clarity. He’d thought about Noah — his little boy, his voice in his head, telling him, "You’re faster than everyone, Daddy."

Lando could feel his son’s words ignite a fire inside him. He wasn’t racing to prove anything to anyone else, but to show Noah, to show himself, that no storm, no matter how wild, could stop him.

When the Safety Car came in again, Lando took a deep breath. The track was as slippery as ever, but the fight wasn’t over.

Lando’s heart was hammering. He was in the lead, and with the final few corners in sight, he pushed his car to the edge. The track had dried just enough, but the pressure on him was unbearable. He took a deep breath and crossed the line with the loudest, most cathartic roar of his life.

Lando Norris had done it. He had won.

P1.

He couldn’t believe it.

The rain had made this race a battle of attrition, and as he eased into the cooldown lap, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.

He slowly lifted his hand to the radio and spoke to his team, his voice shaky with emotion.

“Oooph! Little bit of pressure, well done boys. Beautifully handled. Excuted to the second. One second later and we were done so well done everyone. Congrats, amazing way to start the year. Thank you so much. This one was for you, Noah.”

The world exploded in cheers as the McLaren pit crew erupted, their joy a mix of disbelief and ecstasy. But through the noise, Lando only had one thing on his mind: you and Noah.

He couldn’t wait to share this with his little boy and with the love of his life.

Lando brought the car back to the pit lane. He could hear the roar of the crowd, the fans cheering from the stands, even as the noise inside his helmet began to fade. He blinked, trying to keep his focus, but his hands were still shaking slightly from the adrenaline. His chest felt tight, like he was trying to contain all the emotions swirling inside him — relief, pride, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude.

He had done it.

He had won. P1.

As the car coasted into the pit box, the team was already waiting. The McLaren crew flooded around him, clapping and shouting, their faces beaming with joy. But Lando barely registered any of it. His eyes were scanning the crowd, searching for the two faces that meant the most to him — you and Noah.

The cheering around him felt distant, almost muted, as if it wasn’t real. But seeing you, standing by the barriers, your eyes wide with emotion, was like a splash of cold water. The world around him snapped back into focus. He could see Noah next to you, bouncing up and down, his small face lit up with excitement.

Lando’s heart swelled.

He quickly removed his helmet, his wet hair clinging to his forehead, and climbed out of the car. He could feel the weight of his win, but in that moment, it felt lighter. He was overwhelmed by how much this meant to him. It wasn’t just the victory, it was that he had made it — for himself, for you, and for Noah.

Before the team even had a chance to celebrate properly, he was walking toward you.

“Daddy! You did it!” Noah cried out, his voice high-pitched with excitement. Lando's eyes softened, and he dropped to one knee, his arms open wide.

Noah ran straight into his arms, as Lando hugged him tight, holding him close like he had been waiting for this moment for a lifetime. The rain still fell lightly, but it didn’t matter. All the chaos of the race, the uncertainty, the fear — it was gone.

“I did it, buddy,” Lando whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “We did it.”

“You’re the fastest, Daddy!” Noah exclaimed, his small hands grabbing onto Lando’s race suit. “I knew you were!”

Lando chuckled, pulling back just enough to look at his son. “You knew, huh? You were right all along.”

Noah nodded vigorously, his smile as wide as it could go. “You told me you were faster than everyone. And you are!”

Lando’s chest tightened at his words. He had said it to Noah so many times, almost as a promise, a reassurance that no matter what, he could always come out on top. He had made sure to tell Noah that on the tough days, on the days where it felt like nothing was going right, but now it was reality.

And it was because of you and Noah that he had found the strength to keep pushing.

Lando stood up, holding Noah in his arms as he walked toward you. The world seemed to slow as his gaze locked with yours.

You were smiling, but there was something else there — something that said “I knew you could do it”. You were just as emotional as he was. Your eyes glistened with pride, but there was a tenderness in your expression that made him feel like he was home.

“I told you, didn’t I?” Lando’s voice was rough with emotion as he reached out for your hand.

You nodded, your hand fitting perfectly into his. “I never doubted you for a second.”

He leaned in, his eyes soft as he looked at you — the weight of the moment hanging in the air. Without thinking, he pulled you into him, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was full of emotion. It was gentle at first, a quiet acknowledgment of everything he had been holding inside.

For a moment, time seemed to slow, and Lando could feel the joy and relief in that single kiss. It wasn’t just the victory he was celebrating, but the shared understanding between the two of you — the quiet support, the unwavering belief, the love.

When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours for a beat longer, as if he didn’t want to let the moment slip away. "I couldn't have done it without you," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

Noah squirmed in Lando’s arms, eager to get down and join the celebrations. Lando carefully set him down, and Noah immediately ran off toward the McLaren crew, who were cheering and clapping for the win.

As Noah ran off, Lando turned to you, the full weight of the victory finally sinking in.

“I didn’t think it was going to happen, not with the rain, not with Max so close,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “I almost lost it.”

You smiled softly, brushing a damp strand of hair out of his face. “But you didn’t. You held it together, even when it was tough.”

Lando nodded, his heart full. “I had to. For you, for Noah. I couldn’t let this slip away.”

“You didn’t. And look at you now.” You cupped his face gently, your thumbs brushing over his wet skin. “You’re amazing, Lando.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the quiet moment before the world around him started to roar again. But it didn’t matter. He had done it.

The sound of the crowd cheering filled the air, and Lando turned back to watch his team. His crew was celebrating with Noah in the center, lifting him up in excitement. It wasn’t just his victory, it was theirs too. They had all worked for this moment, and Lando could feel the bond between him and his team, his family, stronger than ever.

As the team ushered him toward the podium for the celebrations, he couldn’t stop smiling. His eyes sought yours one more time, and in that glance, everything was clear. This was just the beginning.

As the excitement of the podium celebrations slowly faded, the atmosphere began to settle. The noise of the crowd dimmed as the McLaren team gathered to wind down, still congratulating Lando for his incredible win. It was time for the world to return to normal — at least for a little while.

The rain had stopped during the post-race celebrations, but the sky had once again darkened, and soon enough, the first raindrops began to fall, soft and steady, like a quiet whisper.

Lando was supposed to be getting ready for the press conferences, and Noah had been escorted back to the team’s area, his energy barely contained after all the excitement. But as the minutes ticked by, you found yourself standing near the pit lane, looking around, trying to spot them — Lando and Noah.

They had been with you just moments ago, but now, there was no sign of either of them. You checked the garage. No luck. You headed toward the pit, but nothing. The sound of the rain grew louder, and you could feel the cool droplets on your skin, the familiar scent of wet pavement filling the air.

As you were about to turn back toward the team area, you heard a familiar laugh.

You looked up. There they were.

Lando and Noah were standing near one of the back entrances to the track, the two of them laughing and completely drenched. Lando’s jacket was already soaked, but he didn’t seem to mind. Noah, in his little race suit, was jumping up and down, splashing in the growing puddles, his face glowing with pure joy.

Lando had both arms raised, pretending to be a goalkeeper as he blocked Noah’s wild attempts to splash him with water. They were in their own little world — no race, no press conferences, no podiums, just the rain and the playful chaos of it all.

And for a moment, it felt like everything had slowed down again, just like it had on the track.

You smiled to yourself, watching them. The rain didn’t bother them; if anything, it seemed to make the moment even more special. You could hear Noah shout over the rain, his voice filled with glee, “Come on, Mommy! It’s just rain! You can do it too!”

Lando caught sight of you, his eyes lighting up with mischief. He shrugged with a grin, as if to say it’s just rain, no big deal.

Noah ran toward you, water splashing with every step. “Mommy, come play!” He giggled, his face streaked with joy and raindrops. “It’s fun! Daddy says it’s just rain!”

Lando was right behind him, shaking his head in mock exasperation but his smile betraying the playfulness in his voice. “Come on, babe, it’s just a bit of water. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You could see the way Noah looked up at you with those wide, hopeful eyes. You couldn’t say no.

With a sigh, you gave in. “Fine, fine.”

You stepped forward, and in a moment of complete surrender, you joined them, letting the rain soak through your clothes as you took a running leap into the nearest puddle with Noah. The splash was enormous, and Noah shrieked with delight, running off to jump in the next puddle.

Lando joined you, laughing, as the three of you danced and played under the darkening sky, the rain falling harder now but somehow feeling like the perfect way to celebrate the day.

For that fleeting moment, there was no world beyond the sound of Noah’s laughter, the rain crashing down, and Lando’s teasing calls as he splashed you and Noah. The storm had come back, but instead of being a nuisance, it was the backdrop to a perfect family moment.

“Look at us,” Lando said between laughs, his hair soaked and his face flushed with happiness. “We’re all drenched and I couldn’t be happier.”

You caught Noah as he tried to leap into a particularly big puddle, lifting him up and holding him close. His wet hair clung to his forehead, but his smile never faded.

“This is the best thing ever!” Noah giggled, kicking his feet playfully.

“You sure know how to make a rainy day perfect, don’t you, bud?” Lando said, holding you close as you both watched your son’s joyful antics.

“Just rain,” you said softly, your gaze meeting Lando’s. The chaos of the day had faded into the background. What mattered now was here — this moment, with Lando and Noah, playing and laughing in the rain.

Lando pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there just a moment longer. “It’s just rain,” he whispered, and for the first time today, you didn’t mind the rain at all.

[disastertwins9000]

more of the ditf au from this post

this is the better art i had and i was waiting to post it

so like i said in the last post jason finds out tim’s not rly looked after (probably not canon but ive decided he isn’t AND they legally get to keep tim idk don’t ask me) so now like either dick or alfred foster tim (bc jason’s still sixteen) and tim moves into the manor and becomes Batkid.

Jason has been struggling with Bruce’s death and so taking care of Tim has become something he can focus on, and obviously Dick and Alfred are worried bc Jason was totally killing people just a second ago but i think they’d ask him to go to therapy and he’d actually go because he wants to be the best he can mentally to help raise Tim.

Tim is their (currently) foster brother but Jason is basically everything Tim never had in a parent. Dick sees how seriously Jason takes all this but knows that Jason is still a kid and makes sure he gets a break often enough to not worry about taking care of someone else. then when Damian shows up Dick is out in space, and so now Jason is a single mom with two kids and is praying Dick will hurry his ass up and come home (obviously alfred is a huge help he just wants his older brother home)

when dick gets back he’s like “bro i left you for how long and you got another whole ass kid” and then he totally sees how Damian looks like his dead adoptive dad and then goes mama mode on that little bean and adopts him while he’s at it

when Jay is old enough Tim asks Jason to adopt him and bro totally cries his eyes out. Tim has been waiting for Jason to be old enough to be adopted into the family, not that he doesn’t like Dick, quite the opposite he loves his biggest brother, but jay and tim saved each other and the feels are hard to explain but yeah he wants jay to adopt him. Dick adopted Damian right away but when Jason is old enough Damian asked for them to have split custody of him, because he’s always had both his big brothers to look after him and he wouldn’t have it any other way

Tim becomes the Batkid Dick is still Nightwing and Jason is Red Robin up until Damian is old enough to become Robin, then i think Tim would be old enough to become Batman and Jason would become Red Hood (i’m actually still debating if he would be red hood or smth else but i’m sticking with red hood for now) i also gave him a more Arkham Night lookin outfit bc he’s got the cute ears that might remind him of his dad

there’s probably some other stuff i wanted to say but missed but oh well, thanks to @foerchen for letting me rant and also helping me decide on things here and there, ily <33