#I've been sitting on this for forever and finally decided to post it

[thatnewweeb]

Arranged | Todoroki Shoto

Summary | Endeavor and your father both always wanted to be higher in the hero rankings. In case you and Shoto do not achieve those goals, they decided you should enter a Quirk marriage to create an even better Quirk combination. However, you and Shoto didn't want to give into those demands. So how did you end up falling in love?

Content | Smut, fluffy, virginity loss, unprotected sex, aged up Shoto (third year, 18), discussion of marriage, alluded abuse of both Shoto and reader

Word Count | 2.4k+

A/N | I've had this idea for a while, this wasn't the original direction I had in mind, but this is how it went as I wrote. I'm trying to get better at writing smut! At the time of posting, I wrote this forever ago

Your Quirk developed when you were 4 and a half years old. Since that day, your life changed, and not for the better. Since that day, you've been training. You've been training hard.

Almost the moment that your Quirk finally developed, your father had made an agreement with the number two hero. His boy had already developed his Quirk, and your father had been waiting for yours to finally appear.

Later that year, you met Endeavor's youngest son, the boy you were told you would later marry, provided everything followed the plan created by your fathers.

The next time you saw him, roughly six months later, he had gained a large facial scar on his left side, although you did not ask about it.

Throughout the next ten years, you saw the boy multiple times, training together on occasion. You had to learn how best to use your Quirks in cooperation with each other, as well as separately. That was somewhat difficult, considering Shoto's refusal to use his fire.

Despite also having a deep hatred of your father, you never refused to use his half of the Quirk you inherited.

Your Quirk is called Cryo-Phasing, giving you the ability to pass through objects, simultaneously freezing them. Your phasing Quirk works a little differently than Mirio's, being unable to pass through the floor.

Your father and Endeavor believed that combining your Quirks in a Quirk marriage could lead to a stronger version of the Ice Quirk, as well as possibly adding Phasing to the mix of Quirks, thus creating an even more powerful child.

It seemed like some things never changed.

At age 15, you were accepted in UA through recommendations, being placed into Class 1-A, the same class as Shoto.

At the beginning of the year, it was unusual for the two of you to speak much, to each other or really to anyone else. You would spend time together, sure, but that was almost purely because you somewhat knew each other already. The only real interactions you had were sitting together during lunch breaks, and training together during class.

You both excelled in academics, combat and Quirk use. Of course, you had both been training for this your entire lives, training with some of the top heroes in Japan, so that was to be expected.

It wasn't until Midoriya helped Shoto to start coming out of his shell that you two started to actually get to know each other. He started to sit with Midoriya and his friends, but he didn't want you to become lonely, so he invited you to join them. Although you were quiet and difficult to get to know, he did hold some level of affection for you already. He figured that you were in a similar position to him, and that you would be able to relate to him and his issues.

During that time, Midoriya and his friends continued to help Shoto come out of his shell and open up to people, and also helped you to begin opening up too.

In particular, you and Shoto opened up to each other a lot.

Once UA implemented the dorm system, you and Shoto spent a lot of time together outside of school hours. It seemed to everyone that you were always together, whether that was in the common areas or one of your bedrooms.

Everyone was convinced that you both had crushes on each other, both being asked many times why you were not dating. Both of you claimed you were only friends.

Neither of you truly knew what it was you felt for each other, both being somewhat emotionally stunted from your upbringings, but you both knew it was something different from what you felt for your other friends. You both wanted to deny these feelings. After all, neither of you wanted to give in to what your fathers wanted for you.

During your second year, you kissed for the first time. Everyone had thrown a birthday party for Shoto, and as everything was winding down and coming to an end, he had snuck away with you and took you to the balcony in his room, claiming he wanted some fresh air.

Once outside, he turned to you and informed you of a conversation he had with his father a few days prior. He had spoken to your father about breaking the marriage arrangement. Your father had been against it, but Endeavor insisted that Shoto is now free to make his own choices. Part of his atonement for his previous actions.

Your father was continuing to try convince Endeavor to change his mind, which is why you hadn't been informed.

He explained that he was still hesitant to give into what his father wanted, even if he had been let free from being basically forced to do them now.

You understood his feelings, of course you did, you'd been struggling with the same thoughts about this as him.

"Well, for now, while we figure everything out, how about we just try this?" you ask him, taking both his hands and stepping closer, leaning up.

He realised what you were doing and leaned down a little, your lips pressing together for the first time. When you went to pull away, his hands let go of yours, moving quickly to wrap around you, keeping you close to him, not letting you move away, or break the kiss.

You don't try fight him on it, arms moving to wrap around his neck as your lips move against his.

Once you finally do break the kiss, he moves one hand up to rest gently on the back of your head, guiding it to rest against his shoulder, allowing him to keep you close.

Just a moment later, you were interrupted by a small squeak from inside the bedroom. Shouto apparently hadn't locked the door, and someone had realised the birthday boy was no longer present at his own party, so a few friends had come looking for him. The squeak came from Uraraka, who quickly ran out of the room, being closely trailed by a slightly red Midoriya.

The two of you looked at each other and smiled softly. "I suppose we may have to answer some questions."

He nodded in response to your statement, leaving to re-join the party.

Ashido and Hagakure of course asked if you were dating now, which you both denied. For now, it was simply a kiss.

"Are you going to Endeavor's agency once school is over?" You ask, laying with your bed hanging off the bed, looking at your best friend.

He gives a small nod. "I believe it will be the best place for me to start off." He says before talking a small, sharp breath. "Can we talk about something?"

You raise your eyebrows a little and sit up, patting the bed next to you, where he takes a seat. "Of course, what is it?"

"We're almost finished with UA, and I thought it may be time to finally discuss our relationship, before we leave school."

You take a small breath in this time, feeling a little nervous about what he is about to say. Your crush on the boy had never disappeared, but you never brought up your relationship again, not wanting him to feel pressured into making a choice he wasn't ready to make.

His hands find their way to grip yours gently, keeping eye contact with you. "I would like to go into this new part of our lives together. I am still a little hesitant for us to do what our father want from us, but it's what I want too, and I hope it is what you also want."

You bite your lip, letting go of his hands and throwing your arms around him. "Shoto, I would love that. I have wanted that for years."

He nods silently, one arm wrapping around your back, the other digging into his pocket. A moment later, he pulls a small, cute box out, pulling away from you a little so he can look you in the eyes as he hands the box to you.

"I've had this since I was 15. My father insisted I should give it to you, but I never did. I want you to have it," he says.

Inside is a small ring, with a delicate diamond, dainty and tasteful rather than being large and distracting. You bring your eyes back up to look at his, surprised.

"That ring is simply proof of my love for you. We should take things at my own pace. I'll buy you a ring myself one day. That will be when I really propose."

You smile, once again throwing your arms around him, this time putting your weight behind it to catch him off guard and knock him over.

Before he has a chance to say anything, you plant your lips firmly on his, bringing one hand to rest on his cheek, the other resting on his chest, legs holding you up as his hands immediately find your waist, giving into the kiss without any hesitation.

His fingers grip you tightly, breathing already beginning to get a little heavier. Although he has no experience, it seems as though he knows what to do, at least a little, moving his leg to press between your own.

One hand stays on your waist, the other moving to wrap around your back, holding you close to him and allowing him to press him leg up more, bouncing it softly.

His movements cause a soft moan to escape your lips, muffled by his own.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers breathlessly before connecting his lips to yours once again, seemingly wanting to have all contact he possibly can with you.

His tongue runs along your bottom lip, probing into your mouth, wanting to explore you as much as possible.

Breathlessly, you pull away from the kiss, looking down at him. His heterochromatic eyes stare back up at you, lids low with lust.

You sit up, pulling your shirt over your head, discarding it to a forgotten corner of the room. His hands quickly find their way back to your waist, biting his lip as he admires you. His staring makes you blush, but you know he's just taking it in.

His hands come up higher and carefully, yet slightly clumsily, undo your bra, slipping it off your body, throwing it in the same general direction as your shirt, quickly moving one hand to your left breast, sitting up and leaning his head to take your right nipple into his mouth.

You bite your lip, moaning softly. Your arm wraps around him, one hand coming up to play with his hair. You give it a gentle tug, making him groan softly.

Carefully, he moves so that you're underneath him, mouth not leaving your breast until your back is pressed against the bed.

Your hands find your way under his shirt, resting on his abdomen, prompting him to discard his too.

He leans down to kiss you once again, hands moving down to undo the shorts you're wearing, shuffling them down your thighs along with your panties. His long fingers drag slowly down your slit.

"You're so wet for me already, baby," he whispers in your ear.

His fingers continue to tease you, dipping slightly into you, but never quite giving you what you want, enjoying your moans as they get increasingly desperate.

You only want more and more as you feel his clothed cock pressing against your thigh.

“Shoto, please,” you whimper, needing more than what he’s giving you.

He chuckles softly. “Because you asked so nicely,” he whispers, slipping two fingers inside you, moving them slowly.

You moan softly, eyes closing and head leaning back. His movements speed up, fingers quickly finding your sweet spot. His thumb moves to your clit, your moans growing louder.

“S-Shoto, so good, so close,” you moan, looking up at him, orgasm building inside you.

Shoto kisses you, tongue finding it’s way into your mouth immediately, swallowing your moans as you get closer and closer to your release.

Then, right before you get there, his fingers suddenly withdraw. Your eyes shoot open and you look up at him, breathless and confused.

He laughs softly. “You look so pretty like that, baby,” He kisses your forehead, unable to resist at the sight of your bemused pout. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to leave you unsatisfied.”

He quickly takes off his pants, his cock straining against his boxers to get out. When he finally lets it free, your mouth falls open slightly at how big he is. You’d expected him to be big, but not that big.

His hand runs up and down his cock a few times, spreading the juices on his fingers onto his cock before pressing up against your hole, which is already missing the fullness of his fingers.

“You ready, beautiful?” he asks you. You nod, taking your lower lip between your teeth.

He slowly pushes his cock into you, taking in a deep breath. “Been waiting so long for this, baby,” he whispers in your ear before moving to kiss your neck.

Your moans sound so sweet in his ear, moving slowly to give you time to adjust to the new stretch. He stills for a moment when he bottoms out inside you, stopping to kiss you.

“Are you ready, beautiful?” he asks you softly. He waits for your confirmation before moving, pulling out a little before thrusting back inside.

He pulls out a little further each time, cock seemingly perfect for finding that sweet spot inside you, as if your bodies are made perfectly for each other.

"You look so pretty for me, baby," he whispers, eyes staying on you, wanting to see your reactions to his movements, enjoying the look of bliss on your face.

You moan each time he thrusts inside you. "Your cock feels so good, baby," you whisper breathlessly.

His fingers find their way back to your clit, rubbing gently to begin with, rubbing a little harder as he continues.

"I'm getting close, baby," he whispers, breath heavy and small beads of sweat on his forehead. You nod to tell him you are too, moans interrupting your speech when you try to vocalise it.

He rubs harder, moaning as he feels your pussy tighten around him, getting him closer to his own orgasm as you reach your own climax.

Right before he reaches his own high, he pulls out, finishing on your abdomen and thighs.

For a minute, he stays where he is, both breathing heavily and just enjoying the moment.

When he does finally get up, he goes and grabs a warm cloth, cleaning you up, neither of you saying anything.

He climbs onto the bed and lays next to you, wrapping his arm around you. "This was worth the wait," he whispers to you, making you laugh softly.

"I agree."

[jewelleria]

I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be. 

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate. 

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified. 

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map. 

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle. 

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more. 

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop. 

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments. 

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on. 

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not. 

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways. 

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine. 

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war. 

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this: 

I am a Jew. 

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love. 

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners. 

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee! 

Then they sent me this: 

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die. 

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind. 

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake. 

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired. 

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people? 

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews. 

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like. 

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for. 

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war. 

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why. 

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be. 

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

[evangelical04]

A Single Daffodil || 1

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 2.7K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut

Author's Note: hello! i'm Eva and this is my first fic on tumblr ever! I've been a reader for so long and I've always wanted to write my own stories, so I figured I finally would. I know it’s kind of short but I promise the other parts will be longer. Please give me any feedback you have and let me know if you'd like there to be a tag list or anything! I hope you guys like it!! p.s. I'm totally posting this instead of doing my morphology homework that's due in 15 minutes

masterlist / next

The door to your childhood home looked artificially welcoming. There were too many flowers lining the walls encasing the looming wooden door. The grass on the lawn just was a bit too green without a blade out of place and the paved walkway was freshly powerwashed and missing even a speck of dirt. You let out the deep breath you were holding and gently took hold of the overly ornate bronze knocker adorning the painted wood of the door. Two loud thuds rang out as you knocked and the door quickly opened afterwards.

“Hello, Miss Y/N, your parents have been expecting you.”

“Yes, I know. Thank you, Mrs. Oh,” you responded quietly, nodding at the grey-haired woman. She shot you a sympathetic smile before ushering you in, taking your coat and carefully laying it over her arm. After removing your shoes, you followed her past the foyer to the living room where your parents awaited. 

You knew what was coming, you knew that this had been decided long before you were born. Yet, you still felt unprepared. You had grown comfortable, living in your simple apartment in Gangnam and your quiet work routine. Biting your lip, you reprimanded yourself internally, You should’ve brought this shit up in therapy before it happened.

“Here we are, Miss Y/N,” Mrs. Oh said, snapping you out of your self-pity session. You nodded gratefully at her, sending a small smile her way. Her eyebrows wove together in her own pity-ridden expression and she quickly whispered, “Good luck,” while exiting swiftly. You steeled your nerves and forced your chin up high, knowing that you’d most likely cower inwards as soon as you faced your parents anyway.

Stepping into the room, you noted the almost intervention-like setup your parents had arranged themselves in, with your father sitting proudly in his reclining, leather armchair, clad in a dark blue quarter zip and khaki pants. Your mother stood facing the fireplace, arms crossed, in a simple and elegant turquoise dress and hair tied up in a tight and neat bun, with her baby hairs smoothed back to prevent any imperfection. You could almost imagine her pinched mouth, forever encased in a stern and unamused expression. 

“Hello father, mother,” you started, trying to smooth the slight trembling in your voice. Your mother turned around, eyes narrowing at your form, “Sit down.”

You promptly obeyed.

“Your father and I have decided on your marriage. It’ll be to the Min family, to Min Yoongi.”

“What? To him? But,” you began protesting but your mother quickly cut you off with a steely glare. 

“It has already been decided. Your wedding will be in eight months. I’ll forward you the invitation list and you can add three people of your choosing. You’ll be having dinner with us and the Min family on Friday at six. I’ll have Yujin send you an email with further details. Don’t be late.” 

You looked to your father in a desperate plea but were only met with stony silence and a passive face. You turned back to your mother and registered the composed expression painting her face. Your fate had been decided, and it had not worked in your favor at all. Rising slowly, you set your hands by your side and bowed towards your parents, “I understand. I’ll be there.”

Your mother swiftly exited the room, evidently deciding the conversation was over. You could hear her dangling earrings tinkling against each other in what felt like a mocking melody. Your father calmly produced a cigar from the table next to him and lit up, no longer acknowledging you either. You let out another slow breath and walked out. 

Collecting your coat from Mrs. Oh, who tried to give you a comforting shoulder squeeze but it felt more like condolences than anything, and made your way to your car parked in front of the gate closing off your parents��� home. 

That’s it then.

You felt eerily calm yet stressed as you started up your car and carefully reversed out, making sure to avoid hitting the carved statues your parents had in front of the iron gate. As you drove home, your mind started racing with the information you had been relayed. 

Min Yoongi as your soon-to-be-husband? What irony.

Does he even know you exist?

Will you be able to survive this?

Hand gripping the steering wheel hard, you quickly dialed the most recent number in your contact list. She answered after only two rings.

“Y/N! Are you still alive? How’d it go?”

“Hi Joohee, not great. I’m completely and totally fucked.”

Joohee chuckled on the other end of the line, “Want to come over?”

“Yes,” you breathed, “I was hoping you’d offer.”

“I’ll get the booze.”

“Min Yoongi? Now that’s ironic,” Joohee chuckled, seemingly at your expense. You shot a glare her way which she shrugged in response to.

“How long have you been crushing on him? This is, like, practically fate. Maybe this’ll be a good thing.”

You scoffed in response, “A good thing? Joohee, be serious. The last thing I want to do is get with my long-time infatuation, not crush, by forcing him to be my husband.” You took another swig of wine. It was a cheap pink Moscato, perfect for nights like these with Joohee. 

Joohee shoved a pillow in your direction in an effort to gain more room on the couch you had stuffed yourselves onto. The trash reality dating show you had on in the background was showing a rather dramatic fight but you paid it no attention, “It’s just…I haven’t talked to him in the last, what, five years? He probably doesn’t even remember me. And you’ve heard the rumors, I don’t think he’ll be exactly thrilled at giving up his playboy lifestyle just because he has to marry me.”

“What if he doesn’t give that up?”

You stared at Joohee in slight surprise, “What do you mean?”

“Like, what if he says that he doesn’t want to stop hooking up with other people? What will you do?”

Your brows furrowed as you considered the question, “I don’t know, I guess. I mean, I can’t really stop him. I guess I’d just have to live with it.”

Joohee hummed in response before continuing on, “Well, this is happening whether you like it or not. Just try to make it amicable at the least. Maybe it’ll work out, you never know. Just look at Jin oppa.”

Kim Seokjin, Joohee’s older brother and a friend of Min Yoongi’s, was arranged by Joohee’s parents to marry Song Yeonhee, and the two had seemingly fallen in love after a rocky start to their nuptials. You had seen them recently at Yeonhee’s baby shower and she had been glowing, looking unbelievably happy. You recalled the loving gaze that Seokjin had sent her during the party and the pang of envy you felt, knowing that you would likely never get to experience that. 

“Yeah, well,” you responded, “He’s an outlier. Most of these types of marriages don’t work out. I have a feeling I’m going to be a part of that group.”

“You’re too negative, you haven’t even met him for dinner yet. Maybe he’ll surprise you. You just have to give him the chance.”

You mulled over Joohee’s words and nodded, “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I guess I’ll see how Friday goes.”

You weren’t technically late. 

While you still had about 5 minutes before the dinner officially started, you weren’t early, and that was unacceptable by your mother’s standards. A mini emergency at your job had left you scrambling to leave on time, only noticing the late hour when one of your coworkers asked if they should order take-out for the team. After profusely apologizing to your team, they encouraged you to go, practically shooing you out the door, claiming they could handle the situation for now. 

Which left you barely on time to park in the lot outside the ridiculously fancy Japanese restaurant your mother’s assistant, Yujin, had sent to your email earlier that week. You quickly stepped out, smoothing out your dress that you had kept in the backseat of your car and had hastily changed into in the parking lot of your office. Tugging down the hem, you took a moment to look at your reflection in your car window and attempt to look more presentable. Your hair was slightly frizzy but nicely combed back, and you had extremely minimal makeup on from only remembering last minute this morning, and your eyes looked tired. 

You felt tired.

Shaking off your nerves, you headed inside the restaurant giving your family name to the hostess who took you back to a private room where your mother and father were waiting. Your father spared you only a cursory glance before returning his gaze to his phone and your mother looked you up and down before uttering a curt, “Hm.” You held in an eye roll and quickly sat next to them, trying to calm your heart rate for the sure-to-be exhilarating dinner ahead. At six on the dot, you spotted the same hostess leading the Min family towards your table. Your mother stood, welcoming them and urging them to sit down. You stood as well, a little less welcoming, a lot more obligated. 

Mrs. Min looked like the epitome of a rich older woman with dark black hair combed back and glittering jewels lining her ears and neck, complementing the midnight blue gown she had on. Mr. Min was dressed quite similarly to your father, in a simple suit, the only difference being his starkly greying hair providing quite the contrast to his dark blazer. Close behind them was the person you were the most anxious about meeting, Min Yoongi. His pitch-black hair complemented his slightly tanned skin nicely and his feline eyes remained straightforward and untelling. He was dressed in a simple black suit as well with an expensive-looking watch adoring his wrist. His mouth was closed tightly and he did not smile at your mother when she greeted him, not at your father when they sat down across from your family, and certainly not at you.

Your hands nervously played with each other in your lap as you took your seat again. You listened quietly as the mothers exchanged pleasantries and the fathers gruffly greeted each other. You were trying to avoid looking at Yoongi as much as possible.

“So, Y/N,” Mrs. Min started, making you startle to attention, “How old are you now?”

“Twenty-nine, ma’am.”

“Ah, so only a bit younger than Yoongi. That’s good then. How is your work?”

You felt your father stiffen next to you and prayed your discomfort didn’t show on your face, “Good. I’m in the middle of producing a new project with my team.”

“How lovely. Although I’m sure you’ll be leaving that soon after the wedding. You won’t need to work then after all,” Mrs. Min smiled at you. It was hard to read her so you couldn’t tell if she was being genuine or not, though if you had to guess, it was likely the latter. Your job was a point of contention with your family. Choosing to work in a video game production company did not go over well, and if your older brother, Kyungsoo, hadn’t been in line to inherit Seo Industries, you would’ve never been able to keep it. 

You smiled awkwardly in response to Mrs. Min and returned your gaze to the empty plate in front of you. 

As the conversation dragged on, you couldn’t help but steal a glance or two at Yoongi, who was periodically checking his phone and looking permanently bored of the conversation. Not that you could blame him. The dull talk of social circle gossip and work was beginning to get grating, and even the introduction of fancy entrees wasn’t enough to stop your stomach from feeling queasy. 

Yoongi had yet to say one word to you. To be fair, you hadn’t said anything to him either, but he had barely looked in your direction since he entered the private dining room. How exactly were you supposed to start a conversation with that? 

Soon after the desserts came out and were finished, with you politely refusing, feeling like you were going to throw up any second, Mrs. Min suddenly pushed her chair back and stood. She looked down at you and Yoongi and announced, “Well. I think we can leave them to talk on their own for a bit. Why don’t you join us for a drink at our home, Eujin-ssi?”

At the sound of her name, your mother stood, nodding, “Yes, that sounds lovely. Let’s let them get to know each other a bit more.” With that, the parents swiftly gathered their belongings and left, before you could even protest, leaving you staring open-mouthed at the exit. 

Slowly, you turned to face Yoongi and were startled, seeing his eyes already boring into yours. 

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Yoongi stated, his deep and stable voice wrapping around you for the first time that night, “This marriage means nothing to me. It shouldn’t to you either. I’ll do my thing and you do yours. Most importantly, stay out of my life except when necessary. Just because my parents are forcing my hand doesn’t mean I have to adhere to every little thing. Nothing will be changing except for our living situation and a ring on our fingers.”

A little stunned, you could only stutter a passive agreement and watch as he rose and left without sparing you another glance. 

Letting out a deep breath, you closed your eyes, trying to understand what had just transpired. Your heart raced as you quickly stacked up the dishes to be a bit easier for the busboy and quickly made your way to your car. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, you vaguely registered Min Yoongi’s cold demeanor towards you.

It seems he didn’t remember you after all.

The dress you had on was itchy, but you knew if you complained, you would only end up with a sharp stinging on your cheek and tear-filled eyes. You had escaped the boring party with grown-ups and were sitting outside on a stone bench in the garden, trying to remedy your hurt feelings at the hands of the mean, older boy, Hyunsoo. 

He had confidently poked fun at your appearance, saying the dress was a bit too small on you and that your parents should’ve sprung for a size that could fit an elephant instead. He continued on, saying your parents must’ve forgotten to vaccinate you for measles considering all the red spots on your face that were actually acne. Being a tender twelve years of age and going through the worst bits of puberty, his words hit you hard and you quickly ran from the scene into the garden. 

Unable to contain your tears, they slipped down your face in large droplets and soaked into the front of your dress. 

“Hey, you.”

Startled, you looked up to see a boy a couple of years older than you standing in front of you, black hair shining in the light from the garden lamps. His sharp eyes trailed down your tear-stained face. You quickly turned away in shame, not wanting to undergo any more embarrassment tonight. 

“Hey, snot-face.”

You shot him a glare but softened when you saw his hand extended, holding a handkerchief, his face turned slightly away, “Use this. You look ugly while you’re crying.”

You gingerly took the cloth from his hands and blew your nose, noticing him wince out of the corner of your eye. 

“Thank you,” you managed and he only rolled his eyes in response. 

“Yeah, whatever. I think Joohee’s looking for you,” he grumbled before turning on his heel and stalking off back towards the party. 

Confused, your eyes followed after him, not knowing how he knew that Joohee would be looking for you. You unfolded the handkerchief and noticed an elegant embroidering of three letters in black near the bottom, MYG. 

Oh, you realized, Min Yoongi. Joohee’s older brother was friends with him but you had never seen him before. Joohee had described him as kind of rude and quite closed off, but you disagreed. He certainly didn’t seem that bad.

masterlist / next

[sunnie-angel]

A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out

Part 1: Unexpected Faces in Familiar Places

fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: jay makes a new friend, now if only she could be something more... tags: sexual harrassment, threats of violence, idiots in love, flirting, swearing, sexual tension, semi-public sex, cunnilingus, fingering rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 4.7k a/n: enjoy! i've been having a really shitty week (even before the election) so i scrapped my original intention to only post once it was fully written and decided to just share this with you all

Jay Todd has the shittiest day to cap off the shittiest week in what feels like forever. Her ribs ache from a hit on Monday that’s still not fully right and she spent most of the day chasing down one of her accountants that had the sheer fucking nerve to try and steal from under her nose. Her knuckles are bloody, she’s on the verge of a stress headache, and all she wants is to drink her goddamn drink in peace. Apparently that’s too much to ask for because she gets a call from Cala down at one of her bars about out of towners harassing the guests and now that just won’t do at all.

Jay bursts into the bar, door hitting the wall with a crash, and oh fuck she forgot her helmet at home so she’s gonna have to do this as Jay, without the weight of the Hood’s legend behind her. Taking a deep breath she squares her shoulders and swaggers in. Zeroes in on the two chucklefucks have that cornered a poor girl sitting at the bar. Notes the way she’s hunched over and pulling down the hem of her skirt to hide her skin from lecherous eyes. Cala buzzes around the scene trying to divert their attention away from poor little miss unlucky but it doesn’t work.

“–m not alone,” Jay hears you say as she strides towards the bar. “I’m waiting on a friend.” 

“That so,” the taller of the two men leer. “Well she can just join us too. Plenty of room for more.” The shorter man makes a crude gesture at his crotch and Jay sees red.

“There you are!” She calls out, shoulders past the men without even acknowledging their presence. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was a real bitch. Did you already order our drinks yet?” You look up at Jay with gratitude and something suspiciously like tears shining in your eyes. Fuck. You’re pretty.

“No I– I didn’t know if you were planning on driving so I just waited,” you play along. 

Jay goes to take the seat next to you but shoulder slams into a body. She turns and raises a single disdainful eyebrow that she knows for a fact has made grown men cower before.

“You’re in my seat,” she says, low and bored. The man’s face starts to go a horrible shade of red that clashes terribly with his hair.

“So you think you can just butt into a private conversation, bitch?” He snarls, spittle flying.

Jay very conspicuously wipes the front of her leather jacket with a bar napkin. Looks him up and down and smirks.

“I think your conversation was over 30 seconds after you opened your mouth. I bet a lot of things are over in 30 seconds with you,” she tells him coolly.

He opens his mouth to respond, vein pulsing in his forehead but the cock of a shotgun stops him. Cala, blessed Cala, had finally had the distraction she needed to grab the shot gun from under the bar and she is using it to maximum effect.

“Out!” She thunders, waving the shotgun in the men’s faces. “Out and don’t you ever come back. This is one of the Hood’s bars, we’re under her protection and there’s gonna be hell to pay for this.”

Enraged the larger one goes to yell back but the shorter one grabs at his shoulder. Whispers at him to look around at all the hostile faces, the other regulars getting to their feet and cracking their knuckles. Tails between their legs the two nuisances scamper out.

Jay nods at Cala and she calls out “Next round’s on the house!” to the cheers of the room.

Job taken care of, Jay goes to leave when a hand around her wrist, just catching her under the hem of her jacket, freezes her in place.

“Wait!” you call. She turns to look at you properly, the wobble of your lip and the shortness of your skirt from where you’re no longer tugging it down. “Please? I just– I’m worried they’ll be waiting outside for me. I was supposed to meet a date here but they bailed on me and now I have to wait for the next bus to come. Would you stay with me for a bit? Please? I’ll– I’ll buy you a drink for the inconvenience.” And well, Jay always was a sucker for a damsel in distress.

“Sure,” she says, slinging herself lazily back into the bar chair. “It’s no inconvenience but I’ll take that drink. Whoever he is, he’s gotta be mad for standing a pretty girl like you up.”

“Oh um,” you fluster at her words. “Thanks?”

Cala sets down Jay’s usual order for when she’s driving in front of her and refills your drink. Waves off your fumbling with your wallet with a “It’s on the house, chérie. Our apology for the bad night. Besides,”  she nods at Jay “the Boss Lady would not let you pay if you tried.”

You grow more flustered at that and Jay rolls her eyes at Cala’s interfering. She lays a hand on your bare forearm to get you to stop tearing the napkin in your hands to shreds.

“You’re not in any trouble honey,” she says, voice low and soothing. “Just needed a little help, that’s all. Now my name’s Jay and I own this little establishment. Why don’t you tell me a little something about yourself too?”

You stutter and start through your own self-introduction, mascara long eyelashes fluttering at all the attention. Jay’s just so goddamned tempted to press her thumb into the hollow underneath your eyes, see if that’s enough to make the gathering tears of relief spill over. Wants to see your puffy bitten lips wrapped around her fingers rather than your straw. Getting you to talk about yourself seems to work though, familiar territory slowly evening you out. You’re surprisingly witty when you’re not flustered, someone fun to have a conversation over beer with. Time just gets away from under you two, Jay too enthralled with the way your hands move as you tell a story, you too drunk under her attention to bother looking at the time.

A stray notification catches your attention, interrupts your story about how this bar wasn’t even in your bottom five. You roll your eyes at the sender name.

“Jerry,” you answer Jay’s inquisitive look. “Apologizing for standing me up, for all the good that’ll do.” With a flourish you tap at your screen, smile and say “Blocked.”

Jay can feel the corners of her eyes crinkle up in return, simple joy and approval for you cutting the trash out of your life. Not that she’s really entitled to an opinion on it. Your smile lasts a half second longer before suddenly descending into panicking, fumbling out your phone and chanting no no no under your breath.

“I missed the last bus,” you breathe out, eyes wide. Jay’s brain stutters at that, there’s no way you’ve been talking together for four hours. Cala catches her eye and jerks her head up at the big clock hanging over the bar. Fuck. It really has been four hours.

Jay knocks back the last of her beer and stands, extends a hand out to you to help you hop off the bar stool that’s just the wrong side of too tall. Even in your heels Jay’s still got quite a few inches on you.

“C’mon,” she says. “It’s my fault you were out so late, I’ll give you a ride home.”

She leads you outside to where her bike is parked, your palm still in hers.

“I don’t have an extra helmet so you just take mine okay?” She says, putting it on you.

“We’re– we’re going on that?” you squeak out, surprise rendering you docile.

“Yep,” she answers, already straddling the bike, thighs flexing. “Hop on and hold on tight.”

Jay more feels than hears your scream as she revs the engine and takes off, corners maybe just a little too fast to be anything other than showing off. Too soon she pulls up at your front door and already she mourns the feeling of your arms wrapped around her middle. She gives you a hand to help you off the bike again and nearly buckles at the brief glimpse of the black unlined lace panties she sees under your skirt as you swing your leg over the bike. The two of you stand there facing each other, moment stretching out until a car backfires a few blocks over.

“Well, I guess I should get going, “ Jay tells you reluctantly.

“I’ve got work in the morning,” you respond, still not moving. “Wait! D’you want my number or something so we can do this again? Not the first bit obviously, but maybe drinks? Maybe coffee next time?”

And Jay, Jay doesn’t really have a phone besides a collection of burners but for you she’ll keep one on her. “Could always use another friend,” she says slowly, hands her phone over to you anyway. Grinning, you see her off into the night, taillights dissolving into darkness.

Jay calls first, asks about coffee with too much casualness in her voice. Your ensuing enthusiasm sets to right the last of her worries that you’d only offered out of obligation and she sets about monopolizing as much of your free time as she can get away with. Takes you to the movies, to museums, to lunch. Lends you her sweater, her umbrella, her helmet. Actually thinks about buying a second one with how much use you’re getting out of hers. Bitches with you about assholes at work – not that she gives you the full story – and bemoaning the state of customer affairs. Makes you dinner at her apartment and makes a spot for herself on your couch. Worms her way into every corner of your life without regret because you’d tell her if her presence was unwanted. Right?

Leave it to Jay to come back from the dead and still fall in love with a straight girl. Dick teases her about how far she’s willing to bend over backwards for ‘just a friend’ and Jay has to show her teeth and snap back that at least she has some. Has to cover up for the fact that her sanity is hanging by a goddamn thread thinner than that single string that had tied the open sides of your top together that one afternoon, revealing bare skin and the hint of a breast if you leaned just right. The way she almost walked into a wall when she realized you weren’t wearing a bra the first time she came over to your place. How she’s come with the image of your tear-stained face, fingers buried in her cunt. It’s fine! Jay’s fine. Eventually she’ll learn to stop lusting over her darling best friend who looks up at Jay with such sweet trusting eyes, unaware of what an awful lecher she is.

A gala invitation has Jay wishing she could shoot lasers with her eyes and incinerate it. Her eye twitches with annoyance and you snatch it up out of her hands before she can stop you.

“Oh what’s this, a party?” you ask, hair falling down the nape of your neck in a way that has Jay itching to brush it aside and kiss your spine.

“A stupid one,” she answers, not really paying attention.

“But you’ll have to get all dressed up for it! Please, please can I come over and watch you get ready? You never get dressed up,” you pout.

Even with your whining and pouting, Jay can’t help but think she’d still have a better time at the gala with you by her side to distract her from pointed glances and whispers. She sighs. Wait.

“There’s a plus one on that invite,” she tells you nonchalantly, studying your face in her peripheral vision. “You could come if you want, get all dressed up too.”

You stiffen at the question. “You really mean it?” you whisper, hardly daring to breathe.

“Course, but only if you want to,” she offers. You squeal, clutch the envelope to your chest and tackle her.

“It’s short so I’ll probably have to rent a dress and oooh I need to think about makeup, maybe a bold lip? Oh! And I can have another excuse to wear the Jimmy Choos...” you babble in her arms.

“You hate the Jimmy Choos,” Jay reminds you. “Always complain they pinch your feet.”

“Duh,” you tell her, pushing yourself up. “But they make my legs look like sex so I’m wearing them.” Jay has to swallow a couple of times at that, lost in the last time you’d worn them out clubbing and dragged her with you. Your legs had looked like sex, miles of long yummy skin only ending at your barely there mini dress. You prance around the room pulling down dishes for dinner and Jay sighs, melts back into the couch cushions as she listens to you chatter a mile a minute about how excited you are.

Jay’s really, really regretting her impulsivity by the time the gala rolls around a few days later. In all her excitement about not going alone for once, she’d forgotten that this meant she’d be going with you. With you, all dolled up and mouth-wateringly gorgeous.

You knock at her door earlier than she’d expected from you when a fancy event is involved and has to do her very best not to drop her jaw on the floor. Gorgeous green silk pools around your breasts in a daring cowl neck, the fabric clinging to your curves, draped to exaggerate them. Skims the plush sides of your hips before falling straight to the floor, a daring slit revealing the warm bare skin of your leg ending in those heaven sent Jimmy Choos. Jay stares, knows she stares for a beat too long but there is quite literally no force on earth that could tear her away. You start to squirm under her attention, still standing half in her doorway.

“That bad, is it?” You laugh self consciously, start to cover your cleavage with your hands. “I knew it was too much.”

“No, no it’s just enough,” she rasps, standing back to let you in. You brush past her so close she can smell your perfume, can tell you’d broken out your special occasions scent in the nice glass bottle. “I just need to fix my tie and do my hair and then we can go.”

“Do you need the tie?” You hum, stepping into her space. Grabbing a hold of one of the loose ends, you tug it out from where it’s tucked under her collar and drape it over the couch. Your fingers come to her throat and slowly undo the buttons there until only a single button or two above her waistcoat remains done up. Satisfied with your work, you spread the material flat under your palms, right over the swell of Jay’s breasts. “I think you look really nice just like this,” you confess to her.

Jay can barely breathe as she says “Fuck the tie, never liked ‘em anyway.” Your slow smile is worth it.

“Can I do your hair too?” You ask shyly.

“Don’t see why not, I was just going to do a ponytail,” Jay shrugs. Delighted you push her down onto the couch and start pulling bobby pins out of your purse. “Wait did you plan this?” She asks.

“A girl should always be prepared for the best outcome,” you tell her primly as you stand behind her and finger comb her riotous hair.

Quickly you separate out a deep side part and Jay memorizes the feeling of your hands in her hair. Hands twisting and pinning, you’re done in only a few minutes, handing her the little mirror out of your clutch to admire your work. Softly Jay touches your work, the way you’ve slicked back one side of her hair and made the waving curly mess look artistic and purposeful.

“Thank you,” she says, making eye contact with you in the mirror. She means it, means it for more than just fixing her hair but for everything else you’ve done since stumbling into her bar and her life all those months ago.

“It’s nothing,” you tell her, hands suddenly occupied with the mechanism of your purse. “We should probably get going, right?”

Jay drives the two of you to the venue in a really nice car you’ve never seen before. She waves away your questions with a tight, “My dad won’t even notice it’s missing.” She parks at the end of the red carpet and the doors haven’t even opened yet but you can already see the camera lights flashing. You look at her, suddenly nervous because you’d vastly underestimated how important this event was. She turns to you and smiles, grips your hand over the car console.

“Hey,” she says, all softness. “Just stick with me and you’ll be fine. I’ll head off the vultures, you just hold onto me and enjoy the canapes, okay?”

You nod, and then suddenly she’s opening up your door, hand extended to help you out. The lights are blinding, flashing so fast the afterburn never gets any time to dissipate. Pasting on a smile you cling to Jay’s strong arm, rock solid even under all her suit layers. Paps shout and scream at you to look their way and you can barely hear them over one another.

Eventually the two of you make it through the front doors of the hotel and you gasp like you’ve been drowning. Rubbing your shoulders Jay moves to cover you, cuts off the private moment from prying eyes that seek and skitter.

“Is it always like that?” You gasp. Fighting to regain your balance.

“Unfortunately,” she says with a rueful smile. “But that’s the worst of it over, now we can really enjoy the night.” Gallantly she offers you her arm and you accept it gratefully, her elbow brushing up against the swell of your breast as you walk.

She introduces you to the night’s hosts – her family – with a whispered apology in your ear. Jay is secretly, privately glad that you don’t notice Dick’s eyes lighting up with interest in you as you come in to view. She’s very careful to stamp that light out with a scowl and pantomiming slitting his throat. He’s all charm and smiles when he’s introduced to you though Jay still stomps on his toes for good measure. She doesn’t know what possesses her to, but she wraps a proprietary arm around the small of your back as she steers you around the room. Helps you to crystal flutes of champagne that make your nose twitch at the carbonation and warns you off the most disgusting canapes.

Jay has just chased down the waiter carrying the mushroom and cheese quiche bites you’d fast declared your favourite when the two of you get roped into a very stilted conversation with some of the fat cats the Waynes are currently trying to drain dry, for charitable reasons of course. She’s tuned out the conversation while she piles all the best looking bites onto a plate for you, horrifically uninterested in whatever Mr. Harold J. Carson, esquire had to say about the Texan economy. She cottons on to something being wrong as your hands tense up around her arm and your laugh gets ever more brittle.

“That’s a very kind offer Mr. Carson–”

“Harold, please,” the great mustached walrus harumphs.

“–Mr. Carson,” you bravely soldier on. “But I’m here on a date and I hope you’re not implying that I’m the type of woman to two-time someone.”

He turns an ugly shade of puce and sputters at the implication, society matrons chuckling behind their glasses at his terrible blunder. Sensing an opportunity, Jay grabs you by the arm and starts leading you away.

“I do think our presence is needed by my family elsewhere,” she says, vowels Diamond District clipped. Her grip around your fingers is strong, tighter than it’s ever been as she leads you down a hallway and into an unused meeting room. Her breaths are coming heavy as she drops your arm like she’s been burned, deposits the plate on the empty table. Jay knows if she speaks now, her voice will shake and she will not have that. FUCK. Fuck, she was supposed to have this under control by now. She’s not your keeper, she’s not gonna stand between you and happiness but fuck it hurts to be used like a ticket into someone else’s bed.

“Jay,” you ask cautiously. “Are you okay? I really wasn’t going to take him up on his offer, I’m telling the truth, promise.”

“Why’d you come with me as a friend when you were already invited as someone’s fucking date?” Jay spits out, unable to contain her jealous anger and pacing to try and burn it off.

“But you invited me,” you answer her, voice trailing off in confusion.

“You just told Mr. Texas Oil Man that you’re here on a date,” Jay says, voice tight and frustrated at having to spell this out for you. “And we–” she gestures sharply at the two of you “–are not on a date.”

Your face falls, voice thin and hurt. “We’re not?” you ask softly.

Jay has to stop pacing because wait what.

“You– you thought this was a date,” she says slowly. “You got all dressed up and wore the heels you hate because you wanted to look good. For me.” You hug yourself tightly and nod, gaze fixed on a spot on the floor. “But you don’t even like women?” And it’s less a painful fact she knows now and more of a question. 

“We met because my date stood me up!” you exclaim.

“Yeah, Jerry,” Jay says, not sure where this is going. “Fuck that guy.”

“Gerry short for Geraldine!” you practically howl. “I’ve been practically throwing myself at you ever since, I thought you were just being nice and not saying anything to hurt my feelings,” you yell at her. “I thought– I thought you were finally giving me a chance tonight.” You pant, chest heaving as you reveal this more vulnerable truth.

“Oh,” she says stupidly, suddenly forced to re-contextualize her entire life for the past few months. You dash an angry hand at your tear eyes and turn to go.

“It was my mistake,” you tell her voice thick with emotion.

And fuck. Jay’s not about to let the best thing that ever walked into her life just walk right back out. Not without a fight. Eating up the distance with her longer legs, she reaches out and gently clasps your wrist. Turns you around and pins you the door by it, forces you to look up at her with wide teary eyes.

“Oh sweetheart,” she croons and you shudder. “Bet you’ve been feeling like I’ve been treating your real raw lately.” She cups your face in her hand, smoothes her thumb over the high plain of your cheekbone. “Why don’t you tell me what you were hopin’ for with your one big chance, tell me how tonight was supposed to go.” Jay nuzzles the side of your cheek, inhales the sweat and desperation rolling off your skin.

“We were– we were supposed to dance,” you confess, head falling back against the door. 

“We can still do that,” she says, curling her fingers into your hair and pulling. She grins at your swift inhale.

“We were gonna dance an’ then, then you were gonna take me home.” You breathe out, pupils blown wide with hunger.

“Was that it baby girl?” She asks. “Playing it a little safe for your one night fantasy, weren’t you?” Jay lets go of your wrist to rest her hand on your shoulder, large hand pressing down on your collarbone.

“Was gonna kiss you goodnight,” you whimper, shivers running across your skin. Slowly, so slowly you can make out the ticking seconds hand of the big clock on the wall, Jay leans in and carefully slots her mouth down over yours. Sucks gently on your bottom lip before releasing it with a sigh.

“Like that?” Jay asks. “You were just hoping for a sweet little kiss on the mouth?” Her own breathing is ragged.

“No–o,” you gasp. “Was hoping– was hoping you’d kiss a little lower too.”

Swiftly Jay drops to her knees, so fast she barely recognizes the pain of it. Hooks your leg over her shoulder and starts rucking up your devastating dress to expose your panties. Moaning you scrabble at the door, her hair, anything to keep you upright and balanced. 

“These,” she snarls, then licks a fat stripe across the thin fabric of your black lace panties. “I’ve been dreaming of getting my hands on them since I first saw them.” You shiver, bury your hands into her thick hair for balance.

“They’re my– my lucky date underwear,” you gasp into the air. 

“And you were hoping to get lucky tonight, weren’t you baby girl?” She coos up at you.

Biting your lip, you nod. Jay sets about tearing your underwear to pieces with her teeth. Your thighs tremble around her ears and she slams your hips back down against the door. Spreads your lips open with calloused fingers, presses a light kiss to your clit in greeting before she starts making out with your pussy. You howl and sag, trusting her to take the full weight of you as your knees turn to jelly.

Jay eats you out with enthusiasm and she eats you out with experience. Does this thing with the slick thrusting muscle of her tongue that has you gasping and begging for more. Can feel the heel of your shoe digging into her back, urging her own, begging her to fuck you harder. Spells her own name against your clit, brands her claim on you into your flesh as you wobble and whimper. Slick runs down her face as she grinds her nose into you.

Sucks your clit, hard, just a hint of teeth as she spears you open on a thick finger. Twists and curls it against your slick wet walls, lets herself affectionately get acquainted with your cunt. Scissors you open with two fingers just to watch your head bang back against the door, eyes shut and tears streaming down your face. Sets an uneven rhythm with her fingers and tongue that has you moaning and trying to ride her face for more. Finger fucks you with wet, squelching vigour as you quiver and shake, walls tightening up as you careen towards climax. Starts putting pressure on your rim with a third finger just to tip you over the edge of it all, pleasure making you stupid. Jay bites down at the sensitive inner skin of your thigh and suddenly has to drink down the slick of your second orgasm. So her baby girl likes a little pain with her pleasure, she’ll have to remember that for next time.

Gently, she takes your trembling thigh off her shoulder and places it back onto the ground. Pulls your skirt back down to hide the utter wreckage she’s made of your panties. Jay scrubs at her chin with her hand, then licks down all the sweet remaining slick she finds there. Grins felinely as you moan at the sight.

“Hoping for a little something like that, honey?” She teases.

Vigorously you nod, head bouncing back and forth like a bobblehead, words still fucked out of your brain. She holds out a hand to you – not the one that’s just been buried knuckle deep inside you – and clasps your hand in her own.

“C’mon, let’s go home then,” she tells you airily, leading you back through the maze of the building.

“But what about the party?” you ask, mascara still smeared around your eyes.

“I don’t care,” Jay bites out. “I’m taking you home and I’m fucking you until either I pass out or the sun comes up.”

“Okay,” you say, voice just verging on a whine. “That sounds better, actually.”

“Good,” Jay smirks. “Because it wasn’t a question.”

series masterlist | part 2

[ilovebuckers5]

*•♡never be like you pt 3 ♡¸.•*'

nika muhl x cheerleader!reader

"I'm falling on my knees. forgive me, I'm a fucking fool "

word count - 2.3k

themes :

-angst if you squint

-smut

warnings :

-public sex

-fingering

a/n - sorry for how long it took me to post this. writers block was biting me in the ass. enjoy the smut!!! ( I did not spell check sooooo sorry)

the days between when I asked Nika to the concert and the actual concert were hell. all I could think about was her. and the occasional thought about what Farah was planning for fucking over Asher but that's for another day.

finally, it was the day of the concert. I had already ordered an outfit from about a million different websites but it came together perfectly. I was going to be basic and just where a purple skirt and a white top but the more I looked in online stores, the crazier (and shinier) my outfit got. I decided on a sparkly purple blazer and a black mini skirt with a matching black tube top. the only shoes I could find were purple doc martins so that's what I went with.

the moment I stepped out of my closet to show Farah my outfit, I was convinced that she dropped dead. her hands slammed on the desk she was sitting beside. she stood up and ran her hands over the shoulders of my blazer. "its so fucking good oh my God. I'm kind of mad at you actually. I wish I came up with this." her eyes and hands traced over my entire outfit in awe. before I could even look at myself in the mirror, Farah began taking way too many photos. "I'm sending these all the Nika." that's when I slapped the phone out of her hand.

i almost broke my nose diving for her phone to delete all the pictures. the last thing I wanted was for Nika to see me in a ridiculously glittery outfit with anything else done. if I was doing a big reveal for her then it would have to be when I'm fully ready.

while Farah changed into her outfit, which was a mystery to me, I started doing my makeup. the concert was in 3 hours from now and the venue was 1 hour and 30 minutes away. so as long as Farah didn't take forever getting ready, we would be fine. of course that's as long as Nika was ready.

------------------------------------------------------------

nika's pov

to be honest, I've only heard one Olivia Rodrigo song in my entire life. and its not like I hated it but it wasn't my type of music. but because I love concerts and y/n, I turned on a playlist with her music and started getting ready. me, Farah, and y/n had made a group chat just for this occasion. we barely talked in it, more of just updating each other on where the concert was at and what time it was. the only appropriate outfit I could find was a pair of black jean shorts and a purple tank top. when I tried showing a couple of the girls on my team, I've never gotten more disapproval. they forced me to get letters and designs ironed on the top so once the outfit was put together I had a purple tank top with the words 'sorry my guts spilled' on it with my shorts and a purple pair of Nike dunks that I had to borrow from Paige. oh yeah, the group chat was also used for outfit checks. so I got sent pictures of outfits on racks, hangers, beds, floors, and people. I couldn't care enough to do all that so I just sent a picture of my outfit once it was on me.

farah and y/n had to have been the most hyped up girls I've ever met. they couldn't stop spamming the group chat when they saw my outfit. it honestly felt nice. I didn't do much makeup because I knew how hot those stadiums got. I just put on some mascara and lip liner and I was ready to go. I didn't want to end up looking a mess afterwards, I guess the girls did though.

when I was getting ready, one song sort of stuck out compared to all the others. love is embarrassing. I kind of related to it. loves was never really my thing. at least in college it wasn't. love seemed like something that would get me distracted. as much as I adored seeing other couples out on dates and couples going to each other's event like sports games, it seemed well, embarrassing to me.

i tried to keep it like that.

the time that the girls spent getting ready on seemed to go by slower than ever. i found myself sitting on my bed and my couch and every other surface ever. when finally i got a text.

'we're here!'

i launched myself off of the ledge of my counter and grabbed my bag. i made sure to bring a couple extra water bottles and other necessities so that if anyone ran out, that actually wouldn't.

the moment i sat in the car, the energy shifted.

when i looked from afar, the girls were going back and forth with no music playing. as if one or the other was panicking about something. but when i got there, they acted normal as ever. weird.

"heyyyy! you ready?"

fatah squealed, shaking my shoulder. i smiled in return while nodding my head up and down.

"yess! let's go!"

i wanted to talk to y/n but she barely looked at me. i couldn't tell if it was out of fear or if she just forgot to say something but i knew it didn't feel that good.

the entire car ride was filled with the two girls informing me about olivia rodrigo's songs and who they are about and who she's dated. and to be honest i was pretty invested. more than any other artist. the girls knew every lyrics to every song and it made me feel out of place but i knew i'd settle in once i heard her live.

"oh my god and just a little while ago she released guts spilled!"

i couldn't help but tilt my head in confusion.

"what's that?"

the girls gave eachother a look as if they were about to stop the car and put on a performance of what 'guts spilled' is.

"it's like a bonus to guts! it has five new tracks that basically everyone was waiting for!"

i could tell that this was something y/n had been waiting to be asked about. the pure joy in her face and voice brought a light smile to my face. her eyebrows were raised and her eyes were open wide.

"i think you'll like obsessed and girl i've always been..." farah leaned back to look at me and whisper.

the rest of the car ride was pretty fun actually. we spent time memorizing lyrics. well. they spent time helping me memorize lyrics and eventually i got lost in the music, making the time on the road go by extremely quick. by the time we were at the stadium, i had basically learned all the lyrics to both of olivia's albums. farah and y/n were so proud.

this parking lot was more packed than any concert lot i've ever been to. i mean every single spot was taken. we had to park on the street and speed walk to the stadium. we got in after what felt like hours of checking bags and tickets and whatever. and once we were in? it was cold.

cold and mildy empty. we had gotten there around 40 minutes early so we found the pit and hung around until the entire stadium was full.

when the light went off, i felt the entire aura switch very quickly. there was a different artist opening. and while i had heard of olivia once or twice around social media, i had never heard of chappell roan. of course farah and y/n had because they began screaming every single lyrics. the music actually was bad so i started to dance along and hum to as much lyrics as i could understand.

finally there were purple lights flashing and olivia came out. i couldn't help but scream along with everyone because as much as i tried to hide it, i was pretty fucking excited.

------------------------------------------------------------

y/n's pov

i don't think i could express how badly i want to wrap my arms around nika just for her coming. we were basically strangers and she came to a whole concert with us. a normal person wouldn't just do that. nika would.

i won't lie, the way our shoulders bumped up against eachother while we were dancing and singing felt even better than hearing olivia rodrigo live.

there were even moments where the air was steamy but bearable. i'd take a second to look to the side and there nika would be, already looking at me as if she was waiting for our eyes to meet. she would nod her head, asking if she could take my hand without speaking. and of course i never denied. she held both of our hands in the air and jumped around to all-american bitch. i know she meant it in a "this is a girls moment" way but my head told me that she was holding my hand the way i had been wanting to for the past week.

none of this could leave my mouth of course. because one ; it was too loud for anyone to even hear my words and two ; it wouldn't be the best choice to confess my love to nika in the middle of a concert. so i shoved my thoughts and fluttery words right back down my throat and replaced them with song lyrics.

all of the thoughts in my head were bringing me to tears. the fact that i was actually in the same stadium as olivia rodrigo and the fact that i was in the same arm distance as nika muhl. and i couldn't even hold her how ive wanted.

then the scream happened. right before the scream in all-american bitch was about to happen, olivia stopped and told everyone to scream for themselves. and i knew exactly what to think about when i screamed.

i screamed about having to wait for nika even though it might not work out. i thought about the fact that our bodies were pressed together in the most platonic way possible. i screamed about the fact that i still had to sort shit out with asher when i got back to campus. and i screamed about the fact that nika had no idea.

in my head i was the loudest person there but i know i wasn't when all of the screams melted together into one.

then she played obsessed. my favorite. there were a good amount of Olivia Rodrigo songs that I did relate to and this was not one of them. I've never been obsessed with anyone's ex. I've never really...cared.

i remember when the song was first leaked on a podcast on Spotify it was the only thing I listened to for a while. I knew every lyric like the back of my hand even if I didn't associate them with my own life.

olivia had changed into a red body suit and she looked amazing. it shocked me how she sounded so perfect while dancing but that's just Olivia Rodrigo for you.

i noticed Nika getting even more loud during this song. she actually was singing the lyrics as if she had known them for months. I felt proud as fuck. are hands met again. we were jumping up and down to the beat of the drums, screaming together like we had been friends for years.

everything went by so quickly.

next thing I knew she had her hand around my waist while she tried to catch her breath. her head was closer to my hands then my face and she had a death grip on her own knee. her back lifted and fell as her heavy breaths slowly went away. i had my hand on her back, trying to make sure she was ok while the song continued.

when her head was back up at eye level the first thing she did was lean into my ear and whisper. "can I try something?"

i had never been more confused in my life until I nodded and felt her hand still lingering around my hips. her fingers grazed the skin that was open in the air. she had been pretending to be focused on the music while her hands slipped down my waist and under my skirt. my breath hitched when she used just her pinky to slide my underwear to the side.

"w-what are you doing?" I questioned, trying to pretend like I didn't want this to happen.

"oh shut up I know you've wanted me too."

i couldn't form words before she dipped two fingers in my pussy. I knew that I could be more vocal since the music was loud enough to drown everyone out but I still felt the need to stay quiet. from anyone elses view, you'd think we were just holding each other or holding hands while singing. Nika quickened her pace, already making me close. it felt like a dream. and it felt like three songs had already passed but by the time it was the bridge of obsessed, I was dripping all over Nika's fingers.

"f-fuck!" I whined out, making Nika cover my mouth with her lips. she didn't stop pumping her fingers in and out of my cunt but it felt like we were only kissing. like the only thing I could feel was her lips on mine and her tongue tangled with mine.

just as I was about to finish for the second time within 1 minute and 30 seconds, Nika pulled her fingers out of me and laid them on her own tongue, sucking them clean.

part of me was in disbelief of what just happened and the other part was fully aware.

"can we continue at home?"

i nodded eagerly, still not knowing what to say to her. I could tell by the smirk on her lips and how her hands were placed on her hips that she was real fucking proud of what she just did.

the rest of the concert was a blur to me.

[vizjpmdose]

HE'S MY PURPOSE IN MY AFTERLIFE. JPM x ghost fem!reader. !! : mention of murder, reader is james' little secret admirer, admiration that slowly turns into obsession. a/n: this was supposed to be an appreciation post for him on his birthday but I was busy that day :(( (English is not my first language, I apologize if you spot any grammatical erorrs that I'm not aware of.) preview: "Loving you was a gamble, and losing myself was the cost."

"Dear Diary,

The thrill he radiates in this afterlife made me feel more alive than I ever was. It was like a calling for me."

The Hotel Cortez is a twisted labyrinth that you'll forever be stuck in. You believe that it's your fate for the afterlife. This place was a nightmare for you, you've been brutally murdered in this place, yet you woke up in the same place but in a different form. In that case, you're a ghost now. It's lonely being a ghost.. It's always the same for you; watching people secretly or just disassociating in the corner in your ghostly form. You sit quietly in the room you haunt for years, the room where your disturbed soul learned to feel comfortable in. You also found solace in the pages of your diary. In that diary of yours, based on the words you wrote in those pages, you believe that you found your purpose.

You're meant to meet this man, his presence made you feel like you still had a purpose even in the afterlife. You flip through the pages of your diary, your eyes quickly spotting his name written on every pages. You wrote about those days you see him in person in the hotel along with descriptions of his brutal charisma, his gorgeous appearance, his power, and most importantly..

How you longed to reach out, to let him know about all of your thoughts about him that you wrote in your diary.

Devil's Night was yesterday. You had a plan, you wanted to do the first move by greeting him and interacting with him in that special night for him. You want to write a new thrilling experience in your diary, but unfortunately.. He was really busy, yet you didn't gave up.. The thrill is intoxicating.

Tonight, you decided to walk down the hallways until you saw him.

"Belated Happy Birthday, Mr. March. I hope Devil's Night went well for you." You greeted. It felt like you gave every strength in your body just to say that.

He raised an eyebrow as he heard your voice, his sharp gaze made it's way to you but a smile appeared on his face despite of his gaze staying sharp and dead.

"Why, thank you my dear." He replied with that smooth silk voice that you always wished to speak to you.

"What a gentleman." You thought.

He didn't walk away yet.

"It's a surprise that a ghost here seems to still respect their superior. This is what I've been telling these ghosts, to remember who's in charge and to remember who provided a home for their fate."

He added.. Those words made you feel alive that all you could do is just stand there and look up at him with a wide smile of adoration.

"I'll remember you, my dear."

With that, his smile shifted to a smirk.. and for a moment, you felt that maybe he knew. You almost hoped he did. But then, he finally walked away. You watched him walk away elegantly, loving how he carries his dignity.

You immediately rushed back to your room, excited to add a new chapter to your diary. You wrote feverishly, recording the encounter. It was the kind only your soul could understand.

"Tonight, he was close enough to touch.. He's indeed my purpose in this afterlife." 

[holeandnirvana]

Goodbye until further notice

I've finally decided to permashift. Today. Or more like, I've finally sealed the deal.

I think what did it for me was realizing that I'm in a loop. I keep waiting and waiting for things to get better and for the next milestone to hit, but I'm not really living here. I'm just kind of trudging by. And I always end up the same: sitting on my floor, telling myself that I've really had it now, I'm really done, this is it, and then I falter. And then I stay. But today I decided that it's really definitive now; no room for argument with myself. To be honest, I've just been waiting to shift for the past four years. And a lot has happened, and a lot has changed along my shifting journey, but I feel like this is where I need to be in my journey now. I'm attached to this reality, but it's not doing me any good and it's not getting me anywhere and knowing that this isn't by far all there is just adds to my knowledge that I can't stand to stay here forever. This isn't all I'm supposed to do with my life.

This might all sound very depressing and hopeless and I'll admit that I haven't had the best day today, but I want you guys to know that even if you use shifting as an escape, that's nothing to be ashamed of, or to feel guilty about. You deserve to live a life in which you feel happy and secure, no matter what your story is here. I honestly don't know what would've happened to me if I hadn't found shifting when I did, and once again, no matter your background or journey, your reasons to shift are valid. Your shifting journey is valid. There's nothing more to say to it than that. Your reasons don't need to be morally approved in order for you to shift. I wish for every shifter out there to get as comfortable as I did today after I made my decision. Y'all deserve it.

So like the title of this post says, this is goodbye from me until further notice. I might come back some day, I might not, and I have no idea when that could be, but I'm not planning that far ahead. Unless I make a post that says I shifted for [insert amount of time] and now I'm back, assume that I'll be in my better cr or one of my other dr's and that any interaction you may have with me tomorrow and moving forward is an interaction with my 'clone', or whatever version of me stays here. I bet that bitch will still be posting stuff, though.

I'm really happy and grateful to be a part of shiftblr, and I wish you guys all the best! <3

[becauseimswagman1]

Toxic Love

A/N:.... it's been forever since I've posted...I'M BACK WITH THE SMUT GUYS. Don't be afraid to comment either!!!

A/N#2: he got some pretty teeth y'all

This for you @itsbackwoodsbby 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

(She wrote something for me. Gotta get her backkkk)

------------------------------

To say that you and your man are a toxic couple is downplaying just how toxic y’all actually are. He cheats and cheats, yet you stay. “Why?” is the million-dollar question. You could say you love him, but you could also say you love the money he makes. See your man is a drug dealer, but not just any ole drug dealer, he’s feared. He’s not to be messed with in any way, so what made you finally get his lying and cheating ass back? The most recent bitch he cheated on you with.

Her name is whor- Hazel. Hazel been tryna get at your man forever. You’re surprised he even fucked that fuck-anything-that-walks, homewrecking ass girl, but niggas will be niggas you guess. You’ve come to realize that they’ll fuck anyone and anything.

Anyways, you got him back by fucking his fine ass, big dick-having-ass cousin. Guess it really does run the family, but the dick was trash and the head was bomb, but if your man asks then all of it was better than him.

You could only imagine how crazy he acted once he found out, but he was almost done with his drops for the day so you’d find out in a minute or two.

---------------------------------

You hear a car door slam and shortly after the front door slam too, “Ayo what the fuck am I hearing bout you fucking my cousin Dre?!”

You almost laughed, his anger was comical to you. You admit you did act like this when you found out he cheated the first time, but as smart as he is… you figured he would’ve figured everything out by now.

You shrugged at him, “Oh they talking about that already? Damn word get around fast. And don’t be slamming the doors in this house!”

“It’s true? You sit up here living this lavish ass lifestyle and you decide to act like one of yo lil friends and fuck anybody with a pulse.”

Okay, he was doing too much now. It’s not like you slept with half the motherfuckers in his gang unlike someone (Hazel).

You stood up off the couch, “Nah, Trevante fuck you! I don’t know why you tryna make me out to be some type of hoe but that shit not gone fly. Yo black ass acting like I fucked yo brother or something. It was just your cousin so back up off me.”

He walked over to you and got in your face, “Tell me that shit not true. Tell me it’s not so I can go pop the nigga that told me.”

Damn, did he have the grill in today? Top AND bottom too? Mhmmmm.

You stared up into his eyes as innocently as you could while he looked down at you, “Sorry baby, but… it’s true. And it was sooo good, too. He fucked me way better than you.”

God, he’s wearing the cologne that makes you soak your panties in record time.

“Oooooh now he’s better than me? I’ll murk that nigga right now, blood or not. Keep on testing me, ma.”

He’s gonna fuck you up. He’s no longer mad at the get back, but the thoughts of another man fucking you better and that you could possibly leave him because of that haunt him now.

“I’ll be here to wash your clothes when you get back. Just don’t come in here dripping blood and shit. It’ll be a bitch to get out our new carpets.”

Trevante could see how unphased you were about this whole thing and it only pissed him off more. You gave away your pussy and that belonged to him.

He grabbed your neck and got real close to your face, “Say he’s better than me again, and watch what happens to you.”

You smirked, this is exactly what you wanted, “He’s better than you. Maybe this will teach you not to fuck with dirty ass hoes.”

He chuckled, tightening his hold on your neck a little, “So you mad I fucked one of yo lil friends?”

“She’s not-” He cut you off, “Right. She’s not. But you really went out and did what you did as a get back? You put on your big girl panties and took a shot at me? That’s a mistake, baby.”

He pecked your lips then threw you over his shoulder, “You gone regret that shit.”

“Baby-”

“Nah, don’t “baby” me now. You was just talking all that shit, it’s time to put your money where your mouth is.”

Trevante took you to your shared room and sat you down on your feet then grabbed your neck again, making you look at him, “You gonna be good for Daddy?”

“Mhm.” you avoided his heated stare. You knew what he had in store for you was gone have you acting right...for now.

He tightened his grip on your neck, “Words ma, or you not gone get what you deserve.”

“I’ll be daddy’s good gir-” he adjusted your head to look at him in his eyes, “Good what?”

“I’ll be daddy’s good little slut.”

He pecked your lips and let your neck go, “Take your panties off. Ass up, face down.”

------------------------

Taglist: lmk if you wanna be added or taken off

@prettyisasprettydoes1306 @thatone-girly

@blackerthings @roguekiki @enigmadivine

@novaniskye @ziayamikaelson @twocentuar

[solarsa1nt]

𐚁֙࿐ GINGERBREAD

ryōmen sukuna & itadori yuuji x fem!reader

Tags — fluff , cuddling , soft sukuna , established yuuji/reader

Notes — christmas special! …ignore the fact this isn’t being uploaded anytime near christmas. when i first posted it on ao3 and wattpad it was

"Yuuji! Yuuji! I made cookies!" Y/N announces, rushing into the dorms common room with a plate of human-shaped gingerbread cookies in one hand and two mugs of hot chocolate in the other.

Without hearing her boyfriend's response, she sets the two mugs on the wooden table infront of them, placing the plate between the mugs.

Y/N grins proudly before pausing, turning on her heel and running back towards the kitchen hurriedly.

Yuuji didn't even get the chance to question what she was doing when she re-emerged from the doorway with a bag of miniature marshmallows, opening the top of the plastic bag as she drops a few in each of their mugs.

"Aaand... there!" Y/N sits back on the couch with a satisfied smile. "Ta-da~"

"Have you decided on a movie?" Yuuji wonders, noting the generic Christmas theme of the snacks.

When they first started dating, Yuuji quickly learned that Y/N liked to make the snacks themed base off of whatever movie they watched— like when she made mini cupcakes that held a similar appearance to the Susuwatari when they watched My Neighbor Totoro.

Although she always put the most effort into the snacks during Christmas.

"Mhm! Tokyo Godfathers— I've been meaning to watch it since forever but I always get distracted by new movies coming out!" Y/N complains dramatically, picking up a gingerbread cookie and biting its arm off. "But since there aren't any new ones I can finally watch it!"

"What are those... things?" A familiar voice questions, disgust lacing his tone.

"Huh? Oh, Sukuna." Y/N stares down at the mouth that had formed on her boyfriend's cheek, the red eye above it peering open to give an unimpressed look at the snack.

Yuuji blinks in surprise at Sukuna's sudden appearance, about to hit the mouth to force the curse go back to his innate domain when his plans were interrupted by his girlfriend replying.

"They're gingerbread cookies! You want one?" Y/N asks, tilting her head to the side as if asking the king of curses if he wants a gingerbread cookie is the most normal thing in the world.

"Why do they look like humans?" Sukuna questions instead, ignoring her inquiry.

"Symbolic cannibalism." Y/N answers flatly, unamused by the curse ignoring her question. Her deadpanned look lasts for a beat of silence before she perks up again, "Now try!"

Y/N shoves the cookie forward, waving it infront of the mouth as if she were trying to tempt a dog with a treat.

Sukuna scowls at that, biting the head of the cookie straight off with a sharp glare at her that promised death. Y/N only laughs at the murderous look, retracting her hand back towards herself before the curse could try to bite her hand off next.

"Well? Are my baking skills to my king's liking?" Y/N teases, expecting an immediate insult back only for silence to answer her.

Huh? Y/N watches in confusion as the red eye widens slightly before instantly closing, the mouth disappearing back into Yuuji's skin.

"What was that about?" Y/N asks, glancing back up to meet Yuuji's eyes, which seemed equally as lost.

"I don't know, he's weirdly silent." Yuuji frowns to himself, "He's not even trying to get control at all."

"Huuuh..." Y/N's lips pull down thoughtfully, a contemplative look on her face before she shrugs uncaringly.

"Well; whatever!" Y/N claps her hands together, as if to draw the focus back to whatever she was going to say. "Sukuna can sulk all he wants, 'cause I want to spend time with my boyfriend!"

━━━━

Y/N leans her head further against the crook of Yuuji's neck, her boyfriend being fast asleep as his head leans atop hers.

Yuuji's arm was circled around her back as his palm lays flat against the curve of her waist, the warmth of his hand heating up her bare skin. Her shirt had ridden up slightly to reveal the bottom half of her torso, although she payed no mind as the dorm wasn't too cold and her boyfriend provided ample body heat.

Y/N watches as the couple on screen share a chaste kiss, the first movie having ended a couple hour ago as she changed it to some k-drama Nobara recommended.

"You enjoy this stuff?" An unimpressed voice asks, Y/N not completely registering the deeper tone nor the way the hand tightened around her waist almost possessively.

"Hmm? You know I do, besides, it was recommended by Noba—" Y/N couldn't even finish saying her friend's name before her chin was roughly taken by a familiar hand.

"Eh—?" Y/N stares up to meet a familiar gaze, E/C eyes meeting four red ones.

"How'd you even get control?" Y/N questions, not even bothering to try and struggle out of the grasp as she meets his gaze unfaltering.

Well, it's not like she would be able to free herself anyway, Y/N supposes.

"Like I would tell—"

"Did Yuuji give you control or no? Was it a binding vow? Or did he take your word that you wouldn't kill anyone?" Y/N questions, not allowing Sukuna to finish what would likely just be another insult towards her.

"Yuuji's dumb like that, but cute dumb. Like a puppy, y'know?" Y/N asks, ignoring the murderous glare and scowl from Sukuna.

"Most would lose their tongue for daring to interrupt me." Sukuna finally speaks, a threat underlying his tone.

"I'd bet they loose their heads too, you don't seem like the type to settle for something so lackluster as just their tongue." Y/N laughs, booping the curse on the nose as though they weren't speaking about maiming people.

"...You're an odd human." Sukuna mumbles after a moment, watching the girl who was still snuggled up against his side with an unreadable expression.

"Aw, thanks!" Y/N beams like it was the nicest thing someone has ever spoken to her.

Sukuna sighs, giving up on trying to intimidate the girl who seemingly had no self-preservation.

"But, yeah, k-dramas are fun to watch! Not my first choice, but I told Nobara I'd watch it, so." Y/N shrugs uncaringly,

"Why? Does the king of curses like these type of shows?" A sly grin spreads across Y/N's face, leaning closer to Sukuna in an attempt to tease him.

Sukuna pauses, expression becoming unreadably blank as he stares down at the girl who was basically straddling his lap at this point.

"Such impiety for someone so weak." Sukuna mutters— although, the words didn't seem to be intended as an insult, it was a mere observation; an undeniable fact. The hand holding her chin in a tight grip loosening as his hand falls down lower.

The cold hand encircles the base of her neck— the tips of his fingers connecting at the back of her neck.

"Huh?" Y/N blinks in confusion, briefly glancing down at her neck before looking up again to meet Sukuna's gaze.

Four red eyes scrutinize her, narrowing slightly as the hand around her neck squeezes lightly before he retracts his hand entirely.

"Hm. Get some rest, brat." Sukuna orders— voice sharp and cold despite his previous actions which were uncharacteristically gentle; careful to not actually injure her.

Y/N stares up at Sukuna owlishly for a second before slowly nodding, unsure of what to make of the curse's action.

At her lack of move to do anything, Sukuna clicks his tongue in annoyance; rolling his eyes as he pushes her forward against his chest.

Y/N isn't sure what to think of the curses, dare she say, soft behavior, but she wouldn't mind getting use to it.

© 𝓢OLARSAINT 2024 ─── all of my works belong me alone! do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or spread any of my works in any other social media platform. these have only been reloaded on my own accounts on ao3 and wattpad

[anucalor]

Mutuals pt.2 (Onyankopon x Black! Reader)

haii! im so sorry for taking literally forever to post this. i was so ready to get back into writing, but i started taking my classes full time (which i passed（＾∇＾）) but now i am getting ready for state and with three jobs... its a lot lol. but im ready to try to get back into it!

i also have Kofi if you ever wanted to support in other ways!

anywho, here ya go!

y/n is a little shy. when she moves back home, her friend mika tries to get her out the house. what better way than to meet mutuals?

(w.c. 2.6k)

warnings: none, language (if any)

__________

It’s Thursday. 

Today shouldn’t hold so much weight, but it did. Besides being the beautiful day before a weekend, it’s the day before Ony and I go on our first date.  

I can’t help but think about it every now and then. Receiving his texts throughout the day doesn’t help either. I've realized he’s much more of a subtle flirt than I would have thought, constantly catching me off guard. I smile and shake my head before looking away from my Apple watch to continue charting. 

I check the time and see it’s a little after seven o’clock. After filling in a few people on my floor and making sure everything is logged in, I go to my locker and grab my belongings. I make my way to the elevator and ride down to the first floor. As soon as I step off of the elevator, I get a phone call. 

Ony. 

I bite my lip to prevent myself from smiling too much before answering. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, pretty girl,” I smile a little wider, “how was work?” 

“It was good. Walking to my car, now.” 

We make casual talk as I continue towards my car. Once I’m inside with my doors locked, I start my engine and begin making my way home. After a few minutes, Ony finally brings up the day I’ve been too nervous to ask about. 

“Mmm... you ready for tomorrow, mama?” 

My heart skips. 

“I, uhh, I am.” I try to sound as relaxed as possible. I can only hope he doesn’t hear how hesitant I sound. 

“What’s wrong? You don’t sound so sure.” 

Of course, he heard... 

“I’m sure... I just have a lot on my mind,” I explain softly. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Ony offers. 

I smile, "Just excited for tomorrow, ‘s all.” I can almost hear his smile in his ‘mhm.’ 

I assume that’s a fine enough answer because Ony doesn’t push the topic, opting to change the subject.  

After about a 10-minute drive, I finally made it back home. I grab all of my belongings and make my way towards the door, making sure to lock my car. I unlock the door to my apartment and walk in, making sure to lock it, as well. 

“You inside yet, mama?” I hear Ony’s voice mumble through my phone. 

“Yeah, I’m inside.” I walk to the island in the kitchen and put my bag on the counter before looking over at my buzzing phone.  

Ony is FaceTiming me.  

I answer the call and gently lean my phone against a nearby object on my counter so that he can see me. The call finally connects and I see Ony leaning back in his chair, fingers moving around on his controller as he plays the game. The corners of my lips slightly raise at the sight of him before I look away for a moment to place one hand on the counter and use the other to remove my shoes. 

“You look pretty, (N/N),” I hear him say over the speaker. 

  I couldn’t help but chuckle as I pick up my phone, shoes, and purse and walk to my bedroom. 

“You say that every time we're on the phone,” I mention with a tired yet teasing tone, “but thank you.” 

He ignores my initial statement and smiles, eyes returning to his TV screen, “You’re welcome.” 

~ 

The night goes on as it normally would; I change and sit on the phone with Yanni for a little over an hour before deciding it is time for me to take a shower and go to bed. 

When I wake up the next morning, it takes me a moment to become fully oriented. When I do, I can’t help but think about how the night could go. Ony and I can realize that being friends is what’s best; we could not like one another, or we could continue in pursuit of a relationship. Of course, I’m hoping for the latter, but only time will tell.  

After talking to God about my worries, I feel a little better and finally decide to get up and get ready, leaving my phone on its charger. After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I walk into my room and look through my wardrobe for a dress that’s fancy enough for a dinner date but not overly obnoxious. Wanting to remain on the safe side, I decide on a long black, long-sleeved dress with some heels. Feeling content with my decision, I decide to pick up my phone to check any notifications. 

The very first one is from Ony. 

Ony: Good morning pretty girl. Ima be a little busier today so I won’t be able to talk much. Make sure you’re ready by 6. I’ll see you soon 

I smile before responding to his text, feeling slight butterflies in my tummy. I make sure to let him know I appreciate him telling me he’d be busy and that I’ll see him tonight. Checking the time, I decide to go ahead and grab some breakfast, opting for some fruit, feeling too nervous to eat too much. 

I try to talk myself down, trying not to get worked up over some guy.  

‘It’s just another date with another guy... it’s just another date with another guy... but it’s not.’ 

There's something about Onyan that makes me hope that what we have goes further than ‘just another date.’ Although we’ve only really been able to speak over the phone since we met, he seems to be more genuine than any other person who has tried to pursue me. Mikasa’s words continue to play in my mind as well. Knowing from a reliable source that he doesn’t mess around for fun also puts me a little at ease.  

I just need to relax and trust that no matter what happens, everything’s gonna be okay. 

~  

I sit in front of my vanity, applying any finishing touches I think I need. I stand and take in my appearance. A smile makes its way onto my lips as I reach to grab some perfume. I spray to my heart’s content before grabbing my purse and phone and walking to the living room. Again, I look in the large mirror at my reflection, feeling happy with how I look. Minutes pass before I hear a knock on my door. 

My heart drops to my stomach. I take a deep breath before walking to the door, unlocking and opening it. Once it’s open, I see Ony with a bouquet of light pink roses with white lilies. I give an endearing smile before hugging him. 

“Ony, these are beautiful. Thank you.” 

He carefully wraps his arms around me, a smile on his face as he responds, “You’re welcome, (N/N). I’m glad you like them.” 

I lean away before gently taking the bouquet from his grasp, my hand lightly brushing against his. I lead him inside for a moment while I carefully replace my older flowers with the newer ones. Once that’s done, I grab my purse. 

“You ready?” Ony glances up from his phone once he sees that I have my purse. 

I nod and watch as he smiles, taking in my outfit for the night.  

“You look beautiful, (Y/N).” He stands from the barstool he sat in while he waited and makes his way to me with his hand out.  

  I take my lower lip into my mouth to try to prevent me from smiling like an idiot, and it just barely works. My hand interlocks with his as I respond. “Thank you, and you look very handsome.”  

Which is true. Ony has on a solid black shirt with some loose black pants and white forces. He, of course, has his chain and studs on and a black and white bomber jacket. He bites his lip as he looks down at me for a moment.  

“Thank you, mama.”  I smile before looking at the ground. Ony let out a breathy chuckle at the way I couldn’t hold eye contact before leading us to his car. He leads me to the passenger’s side and opens the door for me. I give a soft thank you before sitting down and bringing my legs inside. When I get situated, he closes the door and makes his way to the driver's side before driving off.  

~ 

After 25 minutes, we make it to our restaurant. I know I haven’t been here before, so I don’t know what to expect. Ony parks and makes his way to my side to help me out. I place my hand in his while he leads us inside the restaurant. The host leads us to a secluded booth towards the back of the restaurant. We walk hand in hand until we reach the area, separating only to sit across from one another. Our host hands us our menus and tells us our waitress will be with us soon. 

I gently look through the menu, eyes slowly gazing over what all the restaurant has to offer. Ony, sitting across from me, can’t help but allow his eyes to gaze over me, only giving his menu half the attention since he already knows what he wants. He swiftly thinks of something to talk about and opens his mouth to speak. 

“Don’t hesitate to get anything you want, by the way. ” My eyes flicker up to his at the sound of his voice. I smile softly before briefly returning my eyes back to the menu. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” 

Ony gently licks his lips before closing his menu completely and giving me his undivided attention. 

After that, conversation was nothing short of wonderful - Ony smoothly leading the us from one topic to another. I could feel my attraction for him grow the more he spoke to me in that soft, deep tone that I’ve grown used to. Due to me not being the best conversationalist, I was hesitant for this date, but it comes so naturally with him. As if he knows exactly what to say and when to say it. 

From childhood memories to stories about work to ranting about the group that we’ve grown to love so dearly. It felt as though we had known each other for years.

After ordering, it took us bit before our food was brought out to us. Even then we joke about how it got quiet when we started eating, knowing that the restaurant he picked was a good choice. We each took our time, slowly realizing that we didn’t want the night to end just yet. Even after Ony paid for our meal, we still stayed to talk for about another 30 minutes.  

After laughing at a joke he said, I turned my phone over on the table to check the time and sigh. 

“Ony, we should probably head out. It’s getting late.” 

He picks up his phone and gives a soft smile. 

“Yeah, you right... Alright, let’s go, pretty girl,” he directs softly before standing. 

 I scoot just a little before turning my legs to the outside of the booth where Ony was waiting with his hand outstretched. I gently place my hand in his and stand. 

“You got everything?” I turn to make sure I didn't drop anything before nodding.  

“Mhm, yeah. I’m good.” 

And with that, he leads us towards the exit. Once we get to his car, he opens the door for me before going to his side. I watch as he walks to his side, trying to hide the goofy grin that’s trying to make itself known.  

He finally sits down in the car before turning to look at me, narrowing his eyes slightly. 

“What?” he asks with a small grin. I shake my head before picking up my phone. 

“Nothing.” By the way I bit my lip to keep from smiling, I’m sure he knew it wasn’t ‘nothing,’ but he chose not to push. Opting for “whatever you say, (N/N.)” 

The drive to my house was mostly done so in peaceful silence. Other than the speakers and the occasional quip, we just enjoyed each other’s presence.  

After some time, Ony pulled into my apartment. He turned off his car and made his way to me. 

“Aww, such chivalry. Walking me to my door?” I quip once my hand is in his. 

He immediately smacks his lips before closing the door. “Mmcht, man gon’ on somewhere.” He couldn’t even finish the sentence without smiling, causing me to giggle. 

We make it to my door, and I turn to him with a sigh. 

“Thank you for agreeing to go out with me, (Y/N),” his voice low and clear.  

I lean my shoulder against the door and sleepily look him in his eyes. “Thank you for taking me out. I really had fun.” 

“Enough fun to want to do it again?” he asks, taking a step towards me. 

I look off to the side, hide my smile behind my hand before dropping it. “Yeah, Ony. Enough to want to do it again.” 

He looks down, a smile plastered on his face. 

Only a few moments passed before he looks back at me and takes another step forward. I tilt my head a little to the side before feeling him take my hand in his, standing directly in front of me. 

“I’m gonna be very honest, (Y/N) - I would really like to kiss you right now.” 

For some reason me being a little tired made me a little bold and I ask, “So why haven’t you?”  

A moment after those words left my mouth, Ony’s hand rests on my neck, his thumb, pointer, and ring finger gently grabbing my jaw to tilt my head upwards. He leans down and presses his soft lips onto mine. I don’t hesitate for a moment before meeting him halfway. Ony slides his other hand around my waist, pulling me in to completely close the space between us. My left hand slides to his wrist as he deepens the kiss.  

It felt too soon when he pulled away. I opened my eyes to see him looking intensely at me. I quickly shy away, opting to look at the ground, my hand gently rubbing the remnants of Ony from my lips as I try not to smile too hard. 

“Thank you again, Ony,” I mumble trying to keep my rapid heartbeat under control. 

Ony looked at me with an adorned look in his eyes.  

“You’re welcome, mama. Go get some rest, okay?”  

“You, too... Goodnight, Ony.”  

“Goodnight, (N/N).” 

---

It’s been three months since Ony and I have been dating, and it’s been amazing. He’s been amazing. He continues to show me just how caring and protective he is - genuine and fun. The way he never fails to make me smile (whether it be after a tough day at work, or I’m just feeling a little down) is something I didn’t realize I needed. 

‘I’m so glad I listened to Mika,’ is something I constantly think to myself. 

She was right when she told me that he would show me the type of person he is. 

And I couldn’t be happier. 

Ony and I are a little more comfortable with visiting each other's houses, opting to just stay in and relax most of the time. Each time we do, we learn so much about one another. From likes to dislikes to family and more. The more we spend time together, the more I can’t help but think about what it would be like to actually be in a committed relationship with him.  

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t try to shoo the thought away, but it’s so hard when Ony is... himself. Going above and beyond is not foreign to him. His emotional intelligence is evident through his desire for clear communication and his (surprising) amount of empathy.  

Gosh, he’s so wonderful. 

My thoughts are cut short by a soft *ping!*  I glance at my phone to see Ony’s name pop up. I bite back a smile before opening his message.

Yanni <3 : Be ready by 8. I got a surprise for you 

---

ah, please be nice. im still getting into the swing of things. i really hope you guys enjoyed this. please excuse any mistake!

i love you but Jesus loves you more. <3

@kxllanxtdoor

@prettypink-princesss

@sevikasblackgf

pt.1

[boba-beom]

All your posts are making me like 🫠 I think I reblogged all three keke

I need to shout about this... In the Miracle tiktok where Taehyun is dancing while SoobKai film with ILLIT... I don't know if he's eating or chewing gum but it looks like he's chewing gum and why is it so attractive to me. Now I've combined this with basketball Taehyun, thinking how hot it would be to watch him doing a solo practice, shooting and doing dribbling drills while casually making conversation with you, chewing gum the whole time. Am I crazy? Maybe, because before now, I'd probably say gum is gross.

WAIT but now I'm imagining this scenario is the first time you hang out after he sees you fraternising with the enemy (Yeonjun) and he's trying to act like it doesn't bother him that you gave him your number, only that you were clapping for the wrong team OKAY stop me and my imagination 😅 I love Taehyun

and I love you, so glad to see you're still around 💕

CEE I love you too! and I'm happy to see you around also <3 you have no idea how much I've been giggling to myself from your tags hehe :> thank you for the rbs and reading your reactions were fun too 🤭 and you saying that I make sport-centric fics fun for you to read is truly a huge compliment to me omg, I always get nervous because I'm not 100% sure about what I'm writing most of the time, so thank you ilysm 🫶🏼

ALSO reading this made my jaw drop because you're literally onto something with that omg. I noticed that too during soogyu's tiktok with ILLIT— it's the way taehyun does it so nonchalantly with the subtle chewing and it is kinda hot. I used to find people who do that quite obnoxious lmao, but like I can't stand if they're really smacking their gum, ygm? ANYWAY—

jealous bsf!taehyun x gn!reader, dialogue heavy

okay so, the first time you and taehyun hang out after the game is a couple of days later. he'd agreed to hang out with you at the park since you both had checked the weather in advance; it was sunnier than usual. you both decided to meet each other at your regular spot and you're not surprised to find taehyun already there, sitting on the grass and on his phone. usually he'd notice you when you walk up behind him, but it was almost like he'd purposely ignored you and waiting until you had to announce that you were there.

"tyun?" you sit beside him slowly leaning in to give him a usual hug when you greet each other but he gave you a lazy side hug. damn. "been waiting long?"

"no."

that's all you get? he pockets his phone, palms against the grass as he leans back chewing his gum nonchalantly and looking at the busy field in front of you. there seems to be a group of high schoolers training for soccer.

"um, are we good?" you ask quietly, heart pounding in your chest and a little afraid for the first time in forever.

he hums, eyes focused on the ball being passed from player to player.

"yeah, why wouldn't we?" his voice monotone but knowing taehyun, that was normal. "how's yeonjun. are you guys like text buddies now or something?"

now that wasn't what you were expecting. well shit. taehyun's mad and you don't know if that's all he has to say about it.

"no, tyun. he didn't even call me so I don't even have his number. I'm assuming he's busy is all. I wasn't really expecting much." you nudge his shoulder playfully, craning your neck in attempt to be in his visual field, but to no avail, his vision doesn't budge. you sit back in your original position, also watching the ball from afar. "does it bother you?"

you best friend scoffs, apparently he finds something humorous that you possibly missed.

"it doesn't. why'd you even talk to that guy anyway, you know he just does that to boost his ego because he lost the game." taehyun finally turns his head to look at you and you look at him within a fraction of a second, eyes holding eye contact for the first time that day.

"I'm sure he had good intentions-"

"good intentions." taehyun scoffs again, almost chuckles after he repeats it again. "that guy never has good intentions, ___. and I thought you were there to support me, then I catch you clapping for his three pointer."

your stomach churns a little from the guilt. you didn't know he saw that. and what do you even say? you thought it was impressive? you had a feeling yeonjun shot that shot for you?

"don't even try and think of some lame ass excuse because you know damn well I can tell when you're not telling me the truth." his voice assertive but his gaze on you softens, wanting you to be comfortable with him like you usually are.

you let out a deep sigh.

"he looked at me before that moment and I assumed he did that to impress me..." your voice trails off, trying to look at taehyun through your peripheral, not wanting to look at him directly. "I don't know tyun, he seemed pretty genuine and he's kinda cute too."

after explaining as honestly as you could, the air was filled with a short silence between the both of you and distant shouting and birds flying by.

"I can be kinda cute too." taehyun grumbles under his breath and you swear it wasn't some sort of auditory hallucination. that is what you heard, right?

"hm?" you turn to him, tilting your head to the side waiting for him to hopefully repeat himself.

"why'd you want him when I've been here all this time." his rhetorical reply left you blinking a couple of times, processing what exactly he's inferring. "in short, you have me. and I have you."

your chest starts heaving slowly. taehyun, your best friend, really said that. his fingers gently caresses yours, also supporting your weight on the grass while you both lean back.

the train of thought in your discombobulated mind is disrupted by him calling your name, now in a softer tone.

"so, what do you say? I'm willing to risk this friendship and try something more with you, ___. if you let me."

his says his confession, almost as if he's been yearning for you to be his for a while, but is it wrong that you still can't stop thinking about yeonjun?

"taehyun," you sit upright, holding his hand in yours. "I'm going to be honest with you, but promise me don't get mad."

the hope in taehyuns eyes disappears, feeling his heart sink to his stomach ready for your rejection. he nods.

"I love you, and always have, but that's because you're my best friend. and at the moment, yeonjun left quite the impression on me so he's still on my mind, but there's nothing much that helps him in his favour."

"so what you're saying is?" your fingers interlock with his, your thumb rubbing the back of his.

"is that I'm willing to try this with you, because, unlike you," you tease, "I like to give people chances."

you prod at his side as he exhales and rolls his eyes playfully.

"I couldn't risk you being whisked away before I even made a move on you." taehyun defends himself the best he could.

"no but really, from time to time I have felt like I've loved you more than a friend. so that's why I want to try, but can we take it slow?"

"yeah, of course. I'll just have to push yeonjun out your thoughts first." his comment makes you laugh.

taehyun's singular dimpled smile returns and it's contagious, he has you smiling back at him too. you didn't realise when you two ended up sitting closer to each other to close the gap, but you took the opportunity to lean your head on his shoulder.

"and you are kinda cute."

© BOBA-BEOM ; all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, alter or translate in any way or platform.

[squiiv]

don't forget to kiss me!

..or else you'll have to miss me!

—    pavitr prabhakar x gn!reader

*reader knows that pav is spiderman

somewhat based off of ‘glue song’ by the one and only beabadoobee!

!!NOT PROOFREAD!!

☆ …

𒁷 sfw! 

𒁷 cw// a ton of smooching, clinginess, cheesy, pav is a little cutie patootie i love him :(

♥ waking up first thing in the morning to see your boyfriend peacefully sleeping, wrapped in your arms, clinging on to you as if he’ll lose you if he even dares to let go.

♥ you attempt to sit up, only to be brought closer (you're not even sure how it was possible to be even closer than you already were) to your boyfriend..he just can't let you go!

♥ after 20 long minutes, you've decided you should definitely get out of bed now, the two of you had already laid like this together for a long while..he won't mind, right?

♥ you were wrong. when you told your lovely, charming..boyfriend..that you needed to get up, this news only upset him.

“pav…. i really need to get up now.” you sighed, still holding on tightly to his figure. his eyes were still half closed, his long eyelashes batting against his face once he blinked to look up at your face, only to be met with a frown. once the words fully registered in his head, he pouts, “but..you promised you would stay in with me today..you wouldn't want to disappoint the spiderman, would you..?” 

you laugh softly at his words, you really didn't want to leave him, but some unexpected business came up. you began running your fingers through his hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “i know, i know. i don't want to leave you..but i'll be back so, so soon. you won't even notice i'm gone.” he pulls you in even closer, burying his head back into your chest. “can't you just do it later..? you're so warm..i could sleep here forever if it meant i would get to stay in your arms.” 

“...really?” you sigh, not denying the words he said did sound nice. you wish you could stay here forever with him, separated from the hectic lives you both lived. “i'm serious..! if i could stay here with you forever, i would be the happiest man alive..” you blush at his words, he always makes being forward seem so..easy. “i…i'm sorry, my love. i wish i could stay, i really do.” 

“..it's fine. i'll let you leave, if you promise me something..!” you're met with a disappointed look on pav’s face, and it only makes you feel even worse for leaving him like this. “oh, don't be sad..please. i promise, i'll do anything you wish, okay?” 

you start pressing soft kisses all over his face, starting with his forehead, down to his cheeks, and finally placing one on his lips. you continue peppering his face with soft, love-filled kisses, as you cup his cheeks with your hands. once you pull away, you finally see the blush covering his full face.

“my love, my darling..there isn't a single moment of us being apart from each other where i don't think about you and when i'll see you again..you brighten up my world, you lighten my every day.” he seems taken aback at your words, eyes widening ever so slightly. he then smiles, cupping your cheek in his hand while pressing a soft, gentle kiss to your lips as well.

“i love you so, so much my dear…i'm so glad i get to start and end every single day with you in my arms..i couldn't be happier.” he smiles, genuine love in his gaze as he makes eye contact with you. “now…promise me that tomorrow, we can stay here together all day in each other's arms..please?” he pleads, earning a soft grin from you.

“of course. nothing would make me happier than to spend my day wrapped up like this with you. i promise, when i get home later i’ll be back with presents in hand for you, alright?” you chuckle, pressing one last kiss to his forehead.

“i'll be waiting for you here…my love.”

this was my first fic btw, so i hope it's somewhat decent..😭 idk if i'll start posting on here or not! this was just a little test and i've been thinking about pav non stop lol ^_^ please remember he is a MINOR so i will not be posting anything nsfw. if i do end up posting on here my works will mostly be sfw!! i hope u enjoyed :)

P.S: ik in the description i said it was based off of glue song but it kinda isn't. i started writing this with the idea of that but i ended up forgetting about it.

[ohtransarchon]

Thoughts on top surgery; two months post op

Hi hi, I am almost two months post op now- soo basically 2 months. I have a weird gender, I'm sure many can relate so I want to give some reassurance for anyone out there who maybe struggled like I did. I they ever stumble upon this :)

So hi! I struggled for a while with "do I really want this" and people around me (not counting my supportive friends) like my family and such kept pushing that narrative, I was once told I should wait 10 more years before I got top surgery, and that sucked to hear because I've been wanting this since I was 16 and now I was 20- was I really supposed to waste my twenties on "making sure" I really wanted this? That was upsetting.

Ultimately I didn't listen. The person who said that to me is a cishet person anyways, she wouldn't really know how I was struggling to begin with. So in December of 2023 I finally got tired of the struggle and made an "impulsive" call to the clinic, got my consultation and come march I get my surgery! Seven weeks later, here I am.

If you're looking for advice here is what I have; Come to terms with regret, I decided to do this "unsure" because you can't truly be 100% sure of things in life, but you can't sit still either- you can't wait forever. That was something I was stuck with so to let myself move forward I accepted that regret might be something I'll face in the future. There might come a day where I realize "oh, now I miss having boobs" and that's alright! I'm not saying I was really unsure about actually doing the surgery, I really wanted to of course!

I just faced that you never know what might happen in the future and I shouldn't wait around for it. :]

uhh and this one goes out for anyone with a size difference like me (yes I know breast are usually not symmetrical)

So I had a very uneven chest. My right side was pretty normal but my left side looked more like a man with gynecomastia would- as such my surgery results are a little uneven- AND THAT'S FINE! A lot of people feel so bad for me for the unevenness :') it makes me feel bad, makes me feel like I've been messed up. So many people said my surgeon was incompetent but I don't think so, he's been doing this for almost as long as I've been alive and I think he did great with what he had and I'm grateful :)

And also, I'm flat now and I honestly couldn't be happier!

I feel normal. and I feel great :)

(little side note; there is fluid build up/fat on the side that's lower down currently so it'll probably look a little better once I get that fixed) but yeah, I'll probably be a little uneven unless I realize I reaaaally want to get surgery to be symetrical idk, I'm flat and happy and those are my thoughts :)

[neptunes-sol-angel]

AN UPDATE

Hey Sol-Cherubs! I hope that you guys are well and taking care of yourselves. Like I mentioned in a few posts before, I left because I had a feeling that I would need to go off the grid and focus more on myself in order to take care of what requires more dedication than what I've been putting in, and I was right btw, my hands are extremely full at the moment, but at the same time I feel at peace with being away from socializing and being mindful of what distractions are ok and what distractions absolutely need to leave.

But I just wanted to share something with you. I did say this up here before, but again, I caught covid in August, and I'm better now and very much alive. But that week I spent at home didn't really sit right with me. I was getting that irritable feeling that I get when something in me is telling me that it's time to leave a place, a situation, or a person. It was about my job. I usually don't have any complaints because it's a step up from usual work environments that I've been in and I felt like it was easy money to get until I graduated, but I was really irritated with how they treated me when I came forward to them about being sick, especially with what I had. They didn't take it seriously, they were unprofessional, all over the place, and insensitive. Instead of just straight up sending me home, they still wanted me to work. Sick. Around customers who are at risk, pregnant, babies, the elderly, etc. They just didn't give a fuck, mainly because they're so used to relying on me to be the reliable one at work. Even though I was sticking with this job because in this economy, a job is a job, and I wouldn't be there forever...but still I eventually and personally chose to decide that I didn't have nor want to be there any longer because I'm extremely tired of retail regardless of how shitty the job market is.

I spent that same week resting, looking for a job in my field of study, because I had it in my mind that if looking for another job was going to be such a hassle, it should be in what I'm working towards, even if I don't have my degree yet.

A month later, I finally was able to find and secure a job that's in my field, weighs strongly on my resume so that I can progress further in this industry, and pays me enough to be on my own compared to the jobs I've worked in the past that I needed to work 40+ hours every week to get.

Overall, I've just been really trying to improve my wellbeing by eliminating the things that bother me. Social media right now bothers me and that includes content creating. My initial habits were bothering me, and I'm grateful to finally put my foot down and exchange them for things that pour into me instead of setting me back.

I finally signed up for therapy because I was getting to the point where I can no longer keep or deal with my emotions or trauma by myself like I was so used to doing for pretty much forever.

I haven't been able to perfect the routine that I have for myself yet, because the semester is currently back again to windmill my ass 🥲 but things are finally becoming manageable so that I can add the rest of what I want to do for myself in the mix.

Oh yeah! I also got a belly button piercing 🤪

[klbwriting]

Who Am I Really?

Chapter 1

Fandom: Aquaman

Pairing: Ormxfemale!Reader

Warnings: violence and attack in this chapter

Summary: Orm is traipsing around the surface when he decides to visit an animal shelter. While there Atlanteans soldiers attack. Orm is able to fight them off before they can report him back to Atlantis, but in the process he loses his memory

Notes: Hello! This is one of 2 fics that I will be posting! This one will be posted daily in the morning. I hope you enjoy! Comments/critiques are appreciated!

Orm Marius was many things. He was a disgraced king, a mighty warrior, a proud Atlantean, but a good surface dweller he was not. He couldn't figure out why they did so many stupid things. Why did they throw out perfectly good food? Why didn't more of them know how to grow things, how to make things? He had grown up with servants yet he knew how to grow his own food, mend his own armor and clothes, make sure there was not unnecessary waste. He couldn't understand why surface dwellers weren't taught these simple things. He wandered the land, learning more about the corruption and hatred they held also. Arthur liked this place? His own mother loved someone from this hell hole? How? Then he started noticing something else. He noticed community gardens that were flourishing, with volunteers helping to harvest and give the food to those in need. Atlantis could learn from that. For all their merits about being environmentally conscious and able to take care of themselves they didn't do as well taking care of each other. He saw a news story on one of those TV's about a house fire and neighbors coming together to raise money to make sure the family affected could build a new house quickly, offering their own homes to stay in while they waited. And finally, he found a person who did something he could not even imagine. This person saved animals. Marine life seemed never ending to Atlanteans. They would eat every part of the creature but they weren't pets. When his first animal companion, a sea turtle, had died, his father had found him mourning and had made sure he understood that animals were nothing to mourn. The scars on his back were enough that he never mourned another creature again. This woman fascinated him.

He entered her shelter, a small compound by a lake he had been camping around, just to watch her and how she interacted with the small creatures. She smiled happily at him, introducing herself.

"I'm Y/N, can I have your name and reason for your visit? Are you just looking or adopting?" she asked, bringing up a clipboard. Orm frowned a moment.

"I'm Orm," he said finally, knowing this surface dweller wouldn't know who he was from anyone else coming in. "I was just looking, never had a pet before, wondering what all the fuss is about." Y/N nodded, writing his name down and pulling a sticker off the clipboard. She put the nametag on his chest. "What is that for?"

"In case you need help, I just met you, I'm not going to remember your name after one meeting," she said. That was a lie. She had seen Orm's blue eyes and knew she wasn't going to forget him, but she still needed to be professional. Orm nodded slowly and she blushed a little, making him smile. She was pretty and by the blush he figured she might find him pretty as well.

"What is the purpose of this place?" he asked. She smiled a friendly smile now, it lit up her face. She waved him through to a door towards barking.

"I started this shelter slash adoption center around five years ago. I've always wanted to help animals but wasn't really smart enough to be a vet, not steady-handed enough to be a groomer, so here I am, trying to save strays and get them into forever-homes," she said, walking them through a hallway with what looked like dog apartments in it. "This is the inside sleeping area, it links to the outside through that little door. In the summer we keep it open all the time, the outside area is contained and they can sleep or just sit out there as long as they want." Orm stooped down by a few of the dogs, looking into their eyes. They looked well fed, even happy. They had some toys, blankets, beds, everything you needed to be comfortable. Just no home. Orm understood that right now. He followed Y/N as she moved to the next area. She finished the tour of the dog wing before standing by another door. "Would you like to see the lakeside play area? I'm really proud of that."

"Ya, let's take a look," he said. He didn't know why he was so pulled to this place, to this person, but it felt like home here, among these other strays. He felt welcomed and like he could be happy here. They stepped outside and he stared. The lake was shimmering in the early sunset, glittering. It was clean, not like other lakes he had seen, and there was a large fenced in area that had dog play equipment and even went so far that the dogs could run into the shallow water if they wanted. "This is nice."

"Ya, I love animals, but I love the water too. There's something so freeing about floating, letting the waves carry all your worries away with them," Y/N said. She frowned, squinting her eyes as she looked over the water. "Is someone swimming?" she muttered. Orm frowned, looking closer. Atlanteans. Three of them. Soldiers if the gear they were wearing was any indication.

"Go inside, lock the doors," he said. If his tone wasn't so commanding she might have argued but Y/N did as told, going inside and locking the doors. She started even getting the dogs inside and locking the doggy doors to that side of the compound. She then sat in a corner and waited, listening to the sounds of a fight, something beyond a human brawl, going on outside.

Orm surveyed the three soldiers around him. He had a chance against 3, anymore he might have had real trouble, but 3 he could handle. They all pounced at once, but even without a weapon, he was ready. He bent, building the strength in his legs, and when he felt hands from the first attacker he twisted, bringing his fist up, sending the first soldier flying back several feet, knocking him into a tree, forcing his sword out of his hands. Orm would need to get that before the soldier fully recovered. He turned his focus to the other two, kicking one backward as he moved to grab him, then punching the other in the stomach to double him over before bring his elbow down on the back of the neck, disabling the water apparatus to suffocate him. That was one who was completely down now. He turned, seeing the first soldier scrambling to get to his weapon. Orm ran faster, grabbing it and slicing. Two soldiers were taken care of. Now just the last one. He turned, seeing the other one with a pulsar of some type. Orm looked around, grabbing the body of the Atlantean he had slain, throwing it towards the other one. He caught the body and fell back, rolling into the lake. The body drifted off on its own while the still living attacker recovered. Orm moved to the other body he had created, throwing it as well. Y/N didn't need a mess when she came back out. The attacker dodged this one, moving to climb out of the water again. Orm repositioned the sword, getting ready to throw it. Just as he launched it at the final attacker, the attacker fired the energy weapon, hitting Orm in the chest and knocking him back into the solid wall of the shelter. The last thing Orm saw was the attacked falling, sword impaled in him, into the water and sinking. Then Orm himself sinks into darkness.

[yukkoislost]

i am BACK GODDDAMN sorry no magical girls or md omori to be seen atm 😞 i have ocs tho LMAO

listened to my heart?? and decided to draw ocs before i go absolutely insane. i mean i have three perfectly fine md ocs to work on so i might as well

i never did tell you what i had planned for asta huh

oc dump below cut that no one asked for <3

the three musketeers of my account HDJEHDHS

allow me to introduce them properly, i guess?¿ they each have their own individual posts but those posts were kinda rough around the edges,,

ASTA ✨

asta is my first (disregarding older ocs) md oc i've made. she's ridiculously smart (for the most part) but is also inherently a scaredy cat. she hates change and hates the unknown, sticking to a routine that she's used to for comfort.

like doll, she doesn't have her parents anymore and they're also partly the reason she doesn't have a courage. her parents' death had killed her curious spirit. they had always been more overprotective of her, considering they had both escaped unscathed out of the cabin fever labs situation.. (070 and 072, working on that) if asked, her strongest emotion is Fear. she's allowed it to control her life so much she doesn't know what it's like to live, despite being alive. because of this, even though she had been offered a spot with the cheerleaders, she didn't take it as it would mean a deviation from her comforting routine.

of course, her routine can't last forever. life in the bunker is boring but it was safe, and that's all she needed. (going into how she would be a part of the story? in progress though) she and uzi never knew each other personally. she sat at the back of the class while uzi was towards the front. she preferred not sitting too close to her because of her, uh, personality and actions? either way, she doesn't feel safe with uzi around because of uzi's inventive mind, and her tendency to do and create dangerous things (e.g., her sick as hell railgun. and also the whole braiden thing). asta wasn't necessarily shunned, she just had a small group of friends that she preferred sticking to (until doll killed them in the days going onto the promening)

getting the absolute solver string was NOT on her to-do list, but as mentioned, routine doesn't last forever. she hated the solver string and actively tried to ignore it, but it was difficult because if fucked with her systems and caused her to crave oil (which is a whole other thing and also the point where she finally accepted that she can't keep brushing away what she doesn't want to face). did i also mention she hears the solver's voice in the back of her head, because yeah that happens.

either way, since gaining the solver's string, she is also made aware that uzi and doll both had it but didn't try to reach out for help, still strongly controlled by her fear. my plan for asta was similar to how nori was the solver's secondary host (since cyn wasn't on copper-9 at the time), she would become puppet to the absolute solver, and in turn the third official host because of how lowkey she was and doll and uzi not knowing she had the solver. naturally, asta hated the idea of becoming a pet for the solver and constantly tries to override the solver's control on her (eventually succeeding. it leads the solver to want her death because it fears that asta will take over)

this is all canon divergence ofc :3

SERIAL DESIGNATION E 🐾

my second md oc, and first and only disassembly drone oc (for now? maybe haven't decided). serial designation E (also known as E or cerberus) is the outcast of his three-drone-squad. he had once tried to fit in better with the rest of his peers but after the first attempt, decided that it was too bothersome and they didn't deserve him anyway. or, that's how he phrased it in his lonesome.

he's the laziest of the bunch and hates any extra movement, preferring to kill prey quickly than to draw it out and have fun. he only hunts when his oil levels go down to 15% and if given the choice, he would've chosen to not need to eat at all. he isolates himself and has a small space set up away from the pod and essentially, his squad.

he didn't always used to be like this though, as mentioned whenever he tried his best to fit in with the rest, he did work hard. it wasn't enough though (nothing ever is). outcasted for his strange feature of having three nanite tails instead of one, he was always made fun of and in the beginning was also nicknamed Dog by his two other squad members since he wanted so bad to feel like he was needed and important to them, to the point he would willingly have done anything for them. but that was in the past. there's no point.

as a butler in the elliot manor, he has occasionally come across J, V, N and cyn. hard not to when they hang around the young mistress so often, especially J as her personal maid.. or something. he doesn't remember too well. much like his currently disassembly drone self, he took whatever shortcut he could find back in the mansion. he isn't a good person. he wasn't good then, and certainly isn't any better now. maybe a little. back in the manor, he hated doing work. he severely lacks motivation and seriously can't find a reason that he should be bothered other than the humans could kill him, or whatever. it didn't matter, or maybe it did? he wants to live (does he?) he doesn't remember.

anyway. that life is far behind him now. his squad was sent to copper 9 by JcJenson in spaaaaaaaaace (i forgot how many A's were in the space) to clear out the worker drones of course. he's got a chunk of missing memory somewhere in his head.. somewhere dark and somewhere fleshy. probablly not important. he remembers his quad but he can't find them, only alerted that a new pod and three new disassembly drones had landed– J, V and N (where was the other one? who was the other one? someone is not missing)

the forest breathes life into the dead landscape.

how long had he been asleep for?

OCTAVIERY 🦉

the oc that y'all would be familiar with. octaviery has more posts than asta and E combined (i think). the accidentally acquired child of N and uzi somewhere within the events of cabin fever

the good, quiet child of nuzi,, if you disregard his love for 'extreme sports' (read climbing into places he doesn't belong, and eventually getting stuck like an idiot). since his parents are both verbally loud and open, he never really had to ask for anything himself because his psuedo-parents dealt with it for him, leaving him to be the only introverted person of their small family.

he grows faster than a normal drone would, and thus reaches the age of a young teenager even while uzi is still in school. (yes, he is, in fact, taller than uzi. not taller than N though)

he doesn't know his true purpose.

AND THEN I GOT LAZY TO TYPE🤞