#Its so funny cause' he's like a middle aged white man

[ibetittering]

We all know who wears the pants in the relationship

@katzenklavierr for the art 😋

[myownwholewildworld]

THE RIGHT KIND OF WRONG ― dbf!mechanic!joel oneshot

series masterlist | main masterlist | read on ao3 pairing: dbf!mechanic!joel x f!reader. summary: your car breaks down and you make a deal with your dad's best friend, joel, who happens to be the best mechanic in town. you'll work for him over the summer holidays to pay your debt back, but maybe you can find a pleasant shortcut to it? a/n: well, well, well... what can i say? this whole uniformed!joel shit is giving me proper brain rot. i don't know what came over me while writing this but i just rolled with it. i do appreciate any notes you may wanna leave to keep me motivated hehe. enjoy! x edit: forgot to mention this oneshot was prompted by this ask! warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. juicy age gap (reader is 21, joel is 48). rough, ABSOLUTE filth & i'm not even sorry. some edging. semi-public groping? masturbation (f and m receiving). oral (f and m receiving). pussy pronouns (she/her). unprotected piv. mouth fucking. very mild brat taming kink. transactional sex. alternating pov. reader is female but that's about it. w/c: ~8.9k of pure filth. divider by @cafekitsune

“Ugh, not again, c’mon!”

Your cranky little car did not have it in it anymore. It was almost fifteen years old now, having passed down from your older brother to you when you turned sixteen five years ago. Out of pure frustration, you hit the steering wheel with the palm of your hand and let out a raspy grunt.

The check engine light had lit up on the dash, which was what caused your fit. And then, as if orchestrated by the universe, the engine made a loud, clicking noise. You flattened your forehead against the wheel, your fingers curling around the rubbery texture with a tight grip.

“You stupid car!”, you screamed at it as if it was a sentient being. “I’m broke, you cannot die on me like this!”

You were on the parking lot of a café. Early that afternoon you had met with some friends to celebrate the beginning of summer and the end of the academic year. One more and you would be done with your degree ― it looked so damn far away, but you still had this summer to look forward to.

Rummaging through your purse, you finally located your cellphone and quickly dialled your dad.

“Yeah?”

“Hey, dad. I’m at Betty’s. The fucking light has come on again?!”

“Watch your mouth!”, he reprimanded you from the other side of the line. You could hear him huff and puff with disapproval. “I think your car is on its last legs, gonna have to think about buying one.”

“You know I can’t afford that, all my savings are going into my degree. I’ll just have to get it fixed for now.”

“Take it to Joel’s then. See what he thinks.”

“But it’s a Sunday, you think he’ll be open?”

“That man is a workaholic, you bet his business is open today.”

“Alright, you reckon he’ll do it for free?”

“For free?” He laughed; you could imagine him shaking his head. “I doubt it, but maybe he’ll give you a discount. Gotta go, little bug. I’ll see you at dinner. If you can make it, obviously.” He mocked you.

“Ha, ha… So funny. Talk to you later.” And you hung up.

The drive to Joel’s garage was a fucking torture. Every time the engine made a squealing noise, your heart would jolt to your throat. You tried to encourage it, whispering sweet nothings in the hopes it would get appeased and make it to Joel’s repair shop.

You also got distracted by your filthy mind. Joel had been in your DILF radar since you were nineteen. Three years ago, your dad celebrated his 45th birthday with a barbecue in the middle of summer. Joel had turned up in a white tee shirt, khaki shorts and flipflops, with untamed silvery curls and a crate of beer under his arm.

When the Texan heat became unbearable, he had stripped himself of his clothes, fashioning a pair of short swim trunks that had left you breathless and wet. When you watched him get out of the water later that afternoon, you could have sworn that the tip of his dick had shown briefly before he discreetly tucked it away. That image had been burnt into your retinas and haunted you since then.

Unconsciously you licked your bottom lip, your core molten with slick, as the car came to a halt. You had arrived at your destination.

There was an old Ford at the front of the garage, someone working under the hood. When the driver’s door of your car slammed against the frame, Joel peeked up from the engine he was working on.

His eyes flickered with recognition. He grabbed an old rag to clean his big, veiny hands of grease and oil. You wondered what else would be big and veiny. Stop it, you dirty fucker, you told yourself.

“Hey, Joel!” You waved at him with a smile.

“What’s up, kiddo?”

You rolled your eyes at him, the grin staying on your plump lips.

“I’m not a kid anymore, Joel. Have not been for a long time now, y’know.” You punctuated, unsure of what you were trying to achieve with that comment. Well, you knew, but did not want to admit it to yourself.

“Oh, I know”, he husked, his voice suddenly gruff.

Tilting your head to one side, you looked at him with question marks in your pupils. Why had he accentuated that “know”? And why all the sudden was your cunt gushing? How could he make you wet with three simple words? You were going to need to request a booty call that night from your friend with benefits.

“Uh, uhmm”, you laughed nervously. “The engine light on my car has come on for the third time this week and the motor is making weird noises, could you check it out for me, please?”

“Sure thing, lemme see.” He took the keys from your hand, electricity cracking between you.

You pursed your lips, a gesture he did not pick up on. Joel walked to the driver’s side, activated something and then the hood popped open. He walked around to the front of the car and propped the hood up with the metal rod that was inside.

As Joel was inspecting the motor with his broad hands, you put one foot in front of the other in a vain attempt to rub your knees together and cause some friction in your needy cunt. You squeezed your thighs some more as you watched him work with his hands, and you imagined what it would feel like if he was working you instead.

Oof! Take it down a notch, girl, you thought to yourself when your clit twitched in desperation.

Then Joel turned around to look at you.

“When was the last time you changed the timing belt?”

“The... what now?” Your mind was hazy with lust, but even if you had been at your full mental capacity, you wouldn’t have known what he was talking about.

“The timing belt. In the engine. What ensures that the camshaft and crankshaft rotate in sync?” He looked at you with a cocked brow, cleaning his hands again on that old rag.

Oh, I would pay big bucks to be that rag.

“Are you even speaking English?”, you replied back, partially because you really had no idea what he was talking about, partially because your brain was all mushy with desire.

“I’ll take that as a ‘never’ then. You should really get it replaced, seems like that’s your problem. Have you had trouble starting the car?”

“As a matter of fact, yes, this very morning.”

“Yeah, sounds like it. You need to change it asap, if it breaks while you’re driving it would be bad, very bad. You could have an accident. Also trying to fix it after it’s broken will cost you even more.”

“So… will I need to break the bank?” You asked, already flinching at the idea.

Joel seemed to take a second to consider your options, leaning against the passenger’s door and scratching his scruffy beard.

“It’ll be $800.”

Your heart almost stopped, your mouth agape.

“Eight fucking hundred?” He nodded. “Well, can I― Can you not give me a bit of a discount here? You are best friends with my dad. Pretty please?” You laced your fingers together in a prayer and batted your eyelashes at him.

With a low grunt, he straightened his back and folded arms at his chest.

“I’m already giving you one. I would usually charge $1100. You’re already getting a bargain.”

“Well, what about $300?” You counteroffered.

Joel’s brows knitted together and then loudly scoffed.

“What? You think I’m a fucking charity? No, kiddo. $800 and that’s it. If I go any lower, I’d be losing money. Got a business to run here.”

You really did not have $800 bucks to spare. In fact, you barely had five hundred bucks to your name. Asking your family for money was not an option either ― not because you were proud (you were), but because money was tight. Your parents already had enough struggles as it was, you did not want to add to the pile.

You visibly pouted and stumped one foot against the gravel, vexed. A loud sigh slipped through your lips as you pressed the heel of your hands against your eye sockets. You needed the car.

Dropping your hands to your sides, you looked at Joel with puppy eyes, covering the distance that was between you. Pleading, you palmed his strong forearm, your fingers wrapping around the girth of his muscles.

For a brief second, you wondered if you would be able to fully grip his erection. Would your fingertips be able to touch your thumb? Or would he be so thick you would need both hands to handle him?

“Joel, pl―please?”, you stammered, your arousal playing games with your vocal cords.

Unwillingly, he scanned your body up and down ― slowly, taking his time, pondering his options.

Joel had wanted to fuck you for three years now, since your lustful eyes widened at the sight of only his tip on that dreadful summer day. He could vividly remember the way you had chewed your bottom lip as you watched him slide his cock back in his swim trunks, shamelessly, without blinking. You only stopped devouring him when someone talked to you, snapping out of your trance.

That night, when he got home, he had jerked himself off with you in his mind. He had imagined your plump lips sealed around his glans, the tip of your tongue playfully caressing the slit ― your sparkly eyes looking up at him, dreamy and teary, imploring. He had taken his sweet time, rejoicing in his fantasy, until he had spilled in the palm of his hand, as if he was a hormonal teenager. And every time he would fuck someone to find relief, he would visualize your cunt sheathing him, clamping down on his dick like a beartrap.

Ever since then, every time his eyes landed on you, his blood would boil and his cock would harden. Just like now, dick pounding against his boxers, begging to be paid due attention. With the eyes of his imagination, he saw himself letting go and throwing you into the back of your car, drilling your pussy relentlessly until you came wailing, asking for more.

Joel sucked in his breath ― he needed to calm down, distract himself with something else. You were his best friend’s daughter. He shouldn’t be daydreaming about fucking you stupid. He had seen you grow since you were a babe.

Never thought of you any other way until that fateful barbeque, when he realised you were a full grown ass woman. Suddenly he had seen you for what you were: a fuckable brat who could get his cock rock-hard with the simple lick a of a lip.

An idea formed as you begged him. You looked desperate ― desperate enough to him at least.

Joel cracked his tongue, his expression unwavering. But if you could see, you would know his cock was throbbing already.

“Well. I do have an idea.” His words dragged, his erection making him feel uncomfortable.

“You do? I’m all ears!” You exclaimed with a lopsided grin, your delicate fingers tighter around his forearm.

His head snapped to his right, pointing to a sign that read “Hand Car Wash”.

“If you help out all summer handwashing cars, I’ll consider part of your debt paid”, he explained, looking down at your hand touching him.

“In full?” You eyed him as if he was your goddamn saviour and that unsettled him.

“I said part of it, kiddo. I’ll leave it at $300.”

You batted your eyelashes at him. Did you know that your suggestiveness was wreaking havoc?

“Anything I can do so the $300 reduces to zero?”

“I’ll think about it”, he reluctantly conceded. Joel had a few ideas in mind, but none of them were precisely appropriate. Not for a twenty-one year old to do with a forty-eight year old at least, that was for sure. “Be here tomorrow at 9 AM, sharp. The team works from nine to twelve, Mondays to Fridays.”

You frantically nodded, almost squealing in excitement. The noise you made forced his cock to twitch. He could make you squeal too, only if you would let him.

“I’ll be here! Thanks, Joel.”

Before he could think, you let go of his forearm and hugged him close to your chest. To your round breasts. Those two meaty globes he wanted to palm so badly. He could swear your nipples were stabbing at him. You embraced him so close to your body, his bulge pressed gently against your lower belly, and he wondered if you could feel him.

And then you stepped back. Quickly, too quickly for his liking.

“You’ll need to leave your car here, don’t want you driving back in that junk. I’ll have a look at it tomorrow. I’ll give you a lift back”, he offered. “Lemme close first and I’ll be right back in five minutes.”

“No probs, take your time.” You smiled at him as you went back to your car to grab your things.

Soon you were on the passenger’s seat of Joel’s pickup truck. It was dusking on the horizon, the light scattering through the windshield. Joel put down the visor so he wouldn’t get blinded by the sun.

“So how’s college going?” His attempt at small talk made you smile.

“It’s good, hard but good. The first year was really bad though. I didn’t know anyone there, so had to make friends and everything.” You mentioned, shrugging, while mindlessly playing with your seatbelt.

“I’m sure you had no problems making friends”, Joel said distractedly, checking all the mirrors before turning at the streetlight.

You placed your elbow on the window frame, the back of your head resting on your palm, and you turned to look at him.

“How are you so sure?” You asked, curious to see what his take on you was. The man was like a brick wall.

“You’re so vivacious and talkative. You’re not the shy kind either, always were part of the popular group in high school, weren’t you?” You nodded, but he didn’t see you, all focused on the road ahead. “Bet’cha you have all the boys running after you.”

Well, that was unexpected. For both you and him, because you saw how his jaw clenched. It was almost imperceptible, but you were so aware of his every move, your body so in tune with his, you couldn’t have missed it.

Had he noticed you? Like, actually? Was it possible that Joel fucking Miller, your freaking dad’s best friend, could look at you with other than paternal eyes? Why would he make hat comment otherwise?

Your cunt, still wet from your previous innocent interaction, fluttered. You had no butterflies in your stomach ― they were actually clapping their fragile wings in between your legs. This man was a fucking menace to your senses, and he seemed oblivious to the effect he had on you. Or did he? Time to find out.

You giggled at his question and patted his upper thigh a couple of times, as if he had cracked the best joke you had ever heard. The pad of your fingers almost caressed his groin, that sweet dip where his thigh met his pelvis. The denim under your touch suddenly stretched as Joel flexed his leg, trying to release the tension that had rapidly built up.

You bit your bottom lip as he peered at you askance, your hand still too close to his crotch.

“I actually do, but none of them seem good enough, y’know? I want a man, not a boy”, you ventured, your top teeth sinking further in the soft pillow of your bottom lip.

You saw Joel sucking in his breath ― and the grin in your face grew. He was definitely not immune to you, at least not as much as you had originally thought. He looked so unattainable, always so distant, you had wondered if, in his eyes, you had never grown up.

“Do you now, kiddo?” He asked between gritted teeth, tone throaty.

His brown eyes drifted down for one second, watching the tips of your fingers rubbing the denim of his jeans slightly, and then he locked them back on the road. You heard a low grunt vibrating in his throat, although he tried his best to suppress it.

“Yeah. I’m sick and tired of stupid childish boys. They are just boring now, they lack― well, you know.” You let him brew with your unfinished sentence and removed your hand from his lap.

You could tell Joel finally was able to breathe again as his chest expanded slowly. His reaction to you left a prickling sensation in your pussy ― wet, throbbing, needy. You pressed your knees together, but what you really wanted was for him to reach for you and dunk his thick fingers in your slit.

“Your dad’s there.” He stated, succinct, after clearing his throat.

You looked over your shoulder and through the window to realise that, in fact, you had arrived home. Your father was already waiting for you on the porch, probably because he recognised the noise of Joel’s truck’s exhaust pipe. And then he started walking towards you.

You suppressed a pouting grimace ― you wanted just a few more minutes alone with Joel. A few more moves and, who knew? Maybe you would have him fingering the shit out of you. But thanks to your father, you would never find out.

Your father knocked on the passenger’s window and you rolled it down, smiling. Although what you really wanted to do was smack him for interrupting.

“Hey, dad.”

“Hey, sweetie. How’s the car?”

“Well…” You looked at Joel ― you had already forgotten what was it that needed replacing.

“The timing belt is going. Bit expensive but your daughter and I have reached an agreement. Will reduce the price for her but she’s gotta come work on the hand-wash business”, he explained, matter-of-factly.

“Sounds ‘bout right. Get your first taste of what the real world is like.” Your dad laughed at his own occurrence, while your mind drifted far, very far.

“I’d love to get a taste.” You answered feigning innocence, turning your face to Joel with a very wide smile painted on your mouth.

His eyes darkened, transfixed on yours. Oh, he knew exactly what you meant. He subtly stirred on his seat and you wanted to giggle so bad, but refrained.

“Hey, Joel. There’s a game on tomorrow night. You wanna come over? Can have something to eat, few beers, will be fun. I need the company, God knows this lady over here just complains while scrolling through her social media”, he pointed towards you with his thumb and you simply rolled your eyes at him.

Watching football with your old man was as boring as it got. However, if Joel Miller was there, he would have your undivided attention. Well, not him, the screen, obviously. Duh.

Your eyes shot to his, expectant. Your cunt was even more anticipative of his answer.

“Yeah, why not?”

Famous last words. That was Joel’s only thought as soon as he entered his best friend’s home. You greeted him at the door, all smiley and welcoming, ignoring the fact that you had been trying to get him hard the. whole. fucking. day.

You had come to work with some very short jeans ― every time you bent down to rub the sponge on the car’s bodywork, the bottom part of your perfectly round ass cheeks would show beneath the denim. Did you even wear any underwear? He thought not.

And then that white crop top was the fucking end of him. You had gotten it all wet when a loaded sponge dripped all over your front while you were talking to him about some trivial thing he could no longer remember. You had tittered and apologised while you scrunched it to get as much water out as possible. And the only thing he had been able to focus on were your pointy nipples, staring right at him, screaming for his caress.

After that, he had been at full mast the whole damn shift.

“Hi, Joel, come in!” You greeted him excitedly, swinging the door open.

He had taken a cold shower before coming over, but maybe what he needed was a fucking ice bath. Because the moment you batted your eyelashes at him, his cock twitched again. Joel had fisted his dick while showering, in the hopes that emptying his nuts before seeing you again would placate his lust for you.

Nope, hadn’t worked. Not one bit. This was probably a bad idea.

“Hey, kiddo.” He greeted you, emphasizing the last word.

He could literally be your fucking father, but that did not seem to deter you. If anything, it spurred you on. Had you no shame? Had he no shame? Because he should have stopped you the moment you started to be suggestive. Instead, he had let you go on, enjoying every single second of it.

Joel walked in and made his way to the kitchen, with you on his heels, where your father was lathering up some ribs with his secret sauce recipe.

“Hey, Joel. Let me get that from you”, he said before cleaning his hands on a kitchen towel and grabbing the beer crate from him.

Feeling they were still cold, his best friend cracked two open and handed him one. Joel lifted the can to his lips and saw you looking at him from the corner of his eye.

“Want one?” he asked, since you were of legal drinking age.

You shook your head no, wrinkling your nose in disgust.

“Eww, nah. I hate beer”, you sniggered and his dick spasmed some more.

“‘Course you do”, said your father before he could reply. “You only drink― What’s that crap again?”

“Gin and tonic, dad. It’s literally gin and tonic mixed. It’s not that fancy.” You huffed and puffed, shaking your head.

“This youth mixing everything because they can’t have proper alcohol. What’s next? Mixing beer with lemonade or something like that?”

“Well, that’s actually a thing. It’s called a shandy. Don’t be so old.”

Joel let you two have a go at each other. Observing the exchange, he sat down on one of the stools in front of the island, knees slightly bent.

“What?! You listening to this, Joel?” You father exclaimed with a joking tone. “Is Sarah like this too?”

“Yeah, exactly like this. Thinks beer is disgusting and everything. Thought I raised her better than that, but apparently not.” He jested, sipping from the tin can.

“How’s she doing?” His friend asked.

“She’s fine. She’s turning twenty-four in a couple of weeks. She moved out two months ago, gone to Houston for her new job.” He couldn’t help but be proud of his Sarah. She had accomplished so much. “She’s supposed to be here for her birthday, but we’ll see. She’s always so busy, don’t really know with what.”

“Aren’t they all? I barely see this one over here and she still lives under my roof.”

You folded arms, rolling your eyes again, while you sat down beside Joel on another stool.

“Sorry for having a social life? Like, what do you want me to do? Stay here with you watching football? Got better things to do, dad.”

“So you ain’t staying tonight then?” Your dad asked.

Joel turned to study you, interested in your answer. Could he have some reprieve tonight?

“Of course I’m stayin’. Would be rude not to when we have guests over, right, Joel?” And as the last words abandoned your mouth, you placed your left hand on his right thigh under the counter.

God have mercy.

Joel’s muscles stiffened, one in particular more than the others. His thighs were tense as he gripped the beer can with more strength than what was necessary. He kept his eyes to the front, taming his breathing.

He should have done something, slapping your hand away from his lap for instance. But he didn’t. And you took that as an invitation, because soon enough you were kneading his bulge under the kitchen island. Your palm rubbed harshly against the denim, and he saw you chewing your bottom lip.

Your father busied himself with seasoning the ribs and the French fries, oblivious to what was happening just a few meters away from him. This feels fucking wrong, but so fucking good, Joel thought to himself, your hand frisking his groin brazenly.

His cock was thudding with desire under his clothing, begging to be freed from its prison. You sensed his desperation, because you quickly tried to clasp your hand around it. Feeling your frustration at the inability of fisting him properly, Joel parted his legs to give you better access. If that was not an open invitation, nothing was.

I’m already going to hell. Joel had to stop himself of sucking his breath in when you started to unzip his jeans. His eyes slightly widened, but that was his only tell.

“So who do you reckon is going to win tonight?” Your father asked as your fingers dipped underneath his boxers.

Your warm skin against his beating cock dulled his senses. Then you took his dick out of his boxers and attempted to circle his girth while working him. Joel had to drink from his beer to shut himself up.

“Not sure, but I’d like for the Longhorns to win”, he spat the words out as best he could given the circumstances.

“Yeah, would be nice seeing our hometown win something this season”, your father continued with the small talk.

Joel’s thighs flexed when you started pumping him decisively. Fuck. He briefly looked down at his erection. It felt too damn good, your tiny fingers gripping him hard as you slowly moved your hand up and down on his lap. The tip of his cock was glistening with precum and you expertly rubbed it on his foreskin with your thumb.

As your father turned around to put everything in the oven, Joel took the chance to look at you. With your gaze averted, you pretended there was something interesting in the wall in front of you, while your right hand was buried underneath your slutty denim shorts. Joel could swear he could hear the squelching sounds your pussy was making while you played with yourself.

“Right, I think this is it. Gotta wait for an hour until everything’s properly cooked. Wanna move to the family room in the meantime?” He happily chattered as he walked around the kitchen island.

You reacted quickly and let go of his shaft. With his lap right under the kitchen counter, Joel hoped to hell his friend would not see anything out of the ordinary.

“Yeah”, he said with a coarse voice. “Need to go to the bathroom first.”

Your father just nodded as he sauntered towards the living room and Joel almost let go a sigh of relief. You simply chortled as you put your left thumb in your mouth, making it obvious that you were tasting his precum.

Joel’s cock jerked on his lap as he whispered a blasphemy. Quickly he tucked away his painful dick back in his boxers and zipped his jeans as he stood up. Then he retreated to the bathroom, needing a fucking moment to find his composure again.

Until he heard you.

“Gonna go get my phone charger, be back in a jiffy!”

Before Joel could close the door behind him, you slipped your hand in the door gap to stop him from shutting it. You caught him off guard, because he stepped back, brows knitting when he saw you under the door frame.

“What’cha doing?”, he questioned you.

You could feel the rigidity radiating from him. You entered the small bathroom and silently closed the door behind you, both of your hands holding onto the doorknob on your back.

“I came to finish what I started.”

You didn’t give him time to think ― if you did, you knew he would put an end to this. You were too turned on, your cunt beating every time your heart did. Your pussy lips were all wet and puffy ― you could feel your slick trapped between your folds, almost seeping into your panties. You had unleashed the beast and wanted it all for yourself.

So you threw yourself into Joel’s chest, your teeth softly scratching his Adam’s apple as one of your hands found its way back to his cock. He tilted his chin up and groaned at your touch. His pounding dick felt warm and velvety against your palm, so hard from working him under the kitchen counter a minute before.

Once he opened his eyes again, he looked down at you as you gripped his erection with both hands. Slowly you jerked him off, feeling powerful with him on the palm of your hands. Every time you pumped him, your clit would twitch in response. He had not touched you yet and your pussy was already palpitating for him. You could not wait to feel him inside you, stuffing you full.

 “We shouldn’t, your father is right there―”

You could not care less. And to make it evident, you sunk to your knees in front of him, still holding his cock, now at eye level.

Your tongue darted out and you leaned his dick forward until the tip rested flat against your tongue, your hands still working his veiny shaft.

“You were saying?” You asked before briefly pecking his glans.

“Fuck”, was the only thing he managed to mumble.

That was your cue to give free rein to your lust. You nudged his column with the tip of your nose as your mouth drifted down to kiss his balls. Then your tongue slid out in its full extension, and you flattened it against the underside of his cock, slowly lapping at it until you reached the top and sealed your lips around his mushroom head.

Glancing up at him, you saw pleasure softening his features as you took him in further and further down, until his cock reached the natural resistance at the end of your throat. When his tip bottomed out in your mouth, Joel’s eyes found yours. His jaw visibly clenched at the sight of you kneeling in front of him, cock burrowed in between your lips, tears gathering on your bottom eyelids because of how his dick was outstretching you.

You moaned as Joel pulled his hips back, his shaft leaving your wet cavity, now full of precum and saliva. You swallowed to make room as you avidly tipped your head towards him, your lips hunting down his dick again. Slurping so you wouldn’t drown in fluids, you ate his cock like if it was the last edible thing on earth.

At that moment, something shifted in the air. As if Joel, finally, let go of his prejudices and accepted what you were giving him: your mouth to use as he pleased. His fingers hovered over your temples and then they clamped down on your skull as he held you in place.

“Stay still”, he commanded, and you nodded, his cock sitting snugly in your mouth.

His hips moved back and then forward, rocking his dick in and out of your lips. First slow, then picking up a pace. You stayed put throughout while he fucked your mouth mercilessly, palms against your knees like the good girl you were. Then his glans breached your uvula and you inevitably gagged at the intrusion.

He forced you to remain still as he tried to go further down, but there was nowhere for him to go. Your eyes welled up while you fought back the need to cough, almost unable to breathe.

Joel snapped his hips back and your mouth became free. You started panting while trying to catch a breath. Joel cupped your chin up so you would look at him. His sly grin told you he was enjoying himself a bit too much.

“Can tell you’ve not eaten many cocks, have you? Despite pretending to be this slutty brat in front of everyone, hm?” He asked, his voice rumbling in his chest.

“Well, I―” He didn’t let you finish the sentence because as soon as you opened your mouth, he slotted his dick back in between your plump lips.

“I actually don’t wanna hear it.”

Inevitably your cunt gushed at his roughness. He was right though ― you had only given head to two guys before and their cocks did not measure up to his. Your jaw had actually started to hurt now due to the effort you were making to house his dick in your mouth.

Joel quickly resumed his pounding, fucking your mouth relentlessly ― his hips swaying back and forth in front of you.

“Sweetie! Can you bring my charger too please?” Your father’s question forced both of you to snap out of the sexual haziness you both were feeling.

You two froze in place, Joel’s cock still in your mouth.

“Or I can come get it.” Then you heard his booted steps coming up the corridor.

In a panic, Joel stumbled back and you sprang to your feet, eyes widened with fear.

“No! Don’t worry! I’m coming!” You shouted back, hoping that your voice sounded far away enough to him.

The steps stopped and you both listened to him walking back to the living room. “Thank you, sweetie!”

You turned to look at Joel, who had grabbed a bunch of toilet roll to clean off the mess on his still throbbing cock.

“Joel, I’m sorry, b―”

“Just go before he changes his mind and comes looking for you”, his voice was strained with effort. His erection had to be painful by now without any relief.

But he was right. You couldn’t risk it. Neither of you could. So with apologetic eyes, you slithered out the bathroom door and ran to your room to snatch a couple of phone chargers.

Fucking torture that was.

Joel had never been in a worse position than that. Sat on the couch with you, your father on the recliner just a couple of meters away ― and his dick still pulsating, his balls full of unspent cum. His cock would writhe in his boxers, asking for a relief that never came. He was in excruciating pain and was not able to concentrate at all. All the small talk your father did went over his head, didn’t pay attention to the TV’s commentary either.

From time to time, you would graze his thigh lightly ― and on one occasion you slid your naughty hand towards his groin. Luckily the living room was dark, the TV being the only source of light, so your father didn’t pay much attention to your provocations. You quietly kneaded his bulge, curling your fingers around his erection underneath, and it got to a point where Joel had to force your hand away, because he was too close to coming.

So, when he waved you both goodbye and got into his truck, he could literally not wait to get home. Under the dim light of the lampposts that filtered through the windows into the truck’s cabin, Joel freed his aching dick and fisted it from the base. With his head tilted back against the headrest, he furiously jerked off ― fast and with no measure, to the point it was almost hurting. Tension built up from his nuts upwards and when Joel finally got relief, he groaned audibly as his cum spurted out in white, thick streaks.

With a heavy sigh and some laboured breathing, he opened his eyes, looking for some tissues to clean the mess on his lap. As he was putting his cock back in his boxers, something caught his attention.

The darkness camouflaged you well, but he spotted you on the window of your room, watching him eagerly with half-lidded eyes and chewing your bottom lip. Then your head leaned forward, your chin almost touching your chest, and Joel suddenly understood what was happening. You had been touching yourself while observing him do the same thing, until you orgasmed too.

Your eyes locked on each other’s through the blackness, something dark and perverted floating in the atmosphere. The whole thing felt wrong. The right kind of wrong.

The next week had been a continuous dance between the two of you. You too suggestive, him too evasive. After you had seen him wanking in his car, you had thought you had him under your spell. He had looked like a damn teenager chasing his release, unable to contain it much longer.

But you couldn’t blame him ― you had had him on edge for almost five hours. First touching him under the counter, then sucking his dick in the bathroom, and finally kneading him on the couch with your dad only two meters away.

It all had affected you too, because as soon as you had scurried away to your room and had looked out the window, you fingered yourself with your eyes locked on him. You came so hard, that you had to steady yourself on the windowsill, trembling knees and all. And once the orgasm softened its grip on you, you had realised he had been watching you as you rode the last wave of your climax.

So yes, for a week you tried to seduce him again, because you needed to know how it all ended. Having him burrowed down to your guts was a necessity now. However, it got to a point where you almost gave up ― it was draining having to follow him around like a bitch in heat. You still had one ace up your sleeve though. One that you hoped to play this afternoon. Because if you didn’t fuck him today, you were going to lose your shit.

You focused on your task, which was rubbing the soaked sponge on the bodywork of the car. Two other people were doing the same thing on the back, while you were slightly bent over the hood trying to reach the middle. Your breasts brushed against the metalwork, your white tank top completely wet with soapy water, almost transparent now. The coldness was refreshing in the asphyxiating Texan heat and your nipples especially welcomed it, wrinkling tightly and showing through the fabric.

When you straightened, you caught a glimpse of Joel eyeing you intently. But you pretended you didn’t ― maybe you needed to play difficult, show him no interest. Reverse psychology. So for the rest of your shift you just ignored him, fully conscious of how his sight followed you at all times. Let him brew.

Joel didn’t say a word though, didn’t come close to you either. But you heard him wicker while you were openly teasing one of your teammates. Were you trying to make him jealous? Absolutely. So, you giggled and played with your hair at the tasteless joke your colleague told you. It wasn’t funny, but you wanted Joel to listen to your flirting.

Midday came around and the other two people working on the hand wash business said their goodbyes. Joel employed a father and son in the shop too, who left the garage to go home for lunch. And then it was only you and Joel left. Just as you had planned.

“Joel? Can you help me with this, please?” You politely asked him after lifting a bucket full of water up to your chest.

You took a couple of steps forward and the water spilt all over, soaking your shirt completely.

“Shit”, you heard him say under his breath, jogging towards you.

He slipped his arms underneath the bucket to release you from its weight and then placed it back down between both of you.

“What are you doing? You’re gonna hurt your back with such terrible manual handling.” He reprimanded you, tutting.

“Something hurts and it’s not my back, Joel.” You muttered, your fingers wrapping around his wrist to haul him closer to you.

You were done with subtlety. You guided his hand to your pussy and pressed it gently.

“Hurts right here.” The low, needy mumble poured from your lips like honey.

Joel’s eyes squinted just a tad, and his nostrils flared. You saw the inner battle in his chocolate eyes, and you fucking hoped he lost.

Soon you had the answer you had been looking for. The palm of his hand flattened against your crotch, holding you possessively, and pulled you against his broad chest. You couldn’t help but moan when your breasts pressed against him, your taut nipples aching with sensitivity.

“You’re so fucking nasty, kiddo. Been watching you all week, trying to get me hard all over again, haven’t you?” You shyly nodded, biting down your bottom lip as you glanced up at him, his palm rubbing your cunt with determination. “Of course you have, you’re so cock drunk. You loved sucking me, didn’t you?”

You shook your head yes, holding onto the waistband of his jeans. You whimpered when his thumb burrowed in your pants, trying to find your slit over all that clothing unsuccessfully.

“Joel, please.” You begged for mercy, for relief, for something ― anything he could give you, you would take.

“You want me to fuck you, kiddo?” His free hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up, while his thumb kept nudging your damp slit. His mouth hovered over yours as you simply nodded again. “Hm? You want me to destroy your pussy?”

“Yes, yes, YES.” You were already gushing at his dirty talk.

With no more prodding, Joel bowed down and sunk his tongue in your mouth, darting in with the ferocity only a man on the edge could feel. He swept your entire cavity in an open-mouth kiss that left your knees shaking and your pussy throbbing. You moaned into his breath and your tongue lapped at his, the span on his fingers gently covering your neck and squeezing lightly.

Joel’s hand between your legs moved to your ass, pressing you into him. His swollen lump poked at your lower belly intimately and you couldn’t resist the urge to dip your hand in his boxers. He audibly groaned as you attempted to circle his whole girth and failed. Just like a week before, you would need both of your hands around his shaft to properly grip him. You pumped him once, very slow, your hand gliding down till it found his balls.

Joel grunted in the middle of the sloppy kiss and pushed you to go backwards until your body met the back of his pickup truck, which was parked at the end of the driveway. Out of prying eyes, you hoped. Not that you cared that much at this precise moment, anyway.

His beard scratched the skin on your cheek as his lips drifted down to your neck. You looked up to the clear sky before you closed your eyes, giving his pulsing cock a light squeeze that snatched a moan out of him.

Without warning, Joel broke the messy kiss and knelt before you, his hands tugging at the waistband of your shorts with no difficulty. Soon your pants were around your ankles, your panties quickly following, leaving you naked from the waist down. Joel helped you take them off but left your tennis on.

Still on his knees, he peeked up with a devilish smile, then leaned forward and lapped at your mound. A heavy sigh slipped from your lips as your fingers raked his salt and pepper curls. The tip of his tongue brushed the point where your slit started and then licked upwards, his tongue skidding through your skin until it reached your belly button.

You pursed your lips, wanting him to go down, not up. In fact, you pushed him down ever so slightly and the cold of his breath against your wet skin when he laughed made you look down, frustrated.

He kissed the beginning of your slit again and when you thought he was going in, he stopped. You whimpered, thwarted, as he got back up to his feet and towered above you.

“You want me to touch you where it hurts, hm?” He questioned with his lips ghosting yours. “Your pussy? That’s where?”

Not waiting for your reply, his index dunked in your pearly furrow and traced it in its entirety, from your quivering hole to your thumping clit. And then he did it again, for good measure.

“You’re soaking, kiddo. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping.” To emphasize his words, Joel suddenly dived his finger in your opening, a squelching sound making it obvious that you were, in fact, dripping. “You hear that?” He forced his finger out and then back in, the wet, sucking noise even louder this time.

You frantically nodded as he fingered you, his thumb caressing your begging clit as he did. You mewled into his chest, eyes shut, trying to calm the fluttering of your inner walls around his lonely finger. Lonely not for long, because Joel then introduced a second. You held onto his sides, his tee shirt scrunching in your fists, the orgasm building up.

“C’mon, squeeze your cunt for me. Show me how tight you are”, he whispered in your ear as his relentless fingering picked up a faster pace between your legs.

You happily obliged and squashed your walls together around his fingers as he dextrously stroked your g-spot. All of a sudden, a firing sensation built in your clit without warning and the haziness of pleasure took over your senses abruptly. You came hard, very hard, wailing his name as he kept on fingering you until the last wave of your climax washed over you.

What the actual fuck? You thought to yourself, amazed. You rested your forehead against his chest, catching a breath and feeling your arousal wetting your inner thighs.

Still recovering from your unexpected orgasm, Joel picked you up and settled you down on the edge of his truck’s cargo bed. Your feet dangled in front of you, and you parted your legs to make room for him while you wrapped his neck with your arms and licked into his mouth.

“Now I’m gonna eat you raw, kiddo. Give you some of your own medicine.” His hoarse tone gave you goosebumps. Palming both of your breasts over your wet tank top, he pushed you down until your back met the floor of the cargo bed, your legs hanging freely from your knees down. “Is that what you want? This old man feasting on your pussy, on her? ‘S she gonna like it?”

“Joel, please, just― Yes, eat my pussy. Eat her, eat me, please.” You begged with a small voice while you pinched your nipples over your shirt, eyes closed.

And finally, he did. With his hands on your knees to keep them apart, Joel lapped at your cunt in one sweet sweep. Your body trembled with elation, shivers firing down your spine. His tongue caressed all the crevices in your shiny slit, lips puffy and reddened. His thumb found your clit as the tip of his tongue played with your leaking hole, going in and out a few times ― fucking you with his tongue.

You were not able to take it for much longer ― with Joel’s tongue lodged in your creamy fold and your fingers playing with your nipples, you were done for. Soon you came undone, tension growing in your lower belly and molten lava finding its way out. You howled his name, your knees pressing against his head, holding him in place as you came in his mouth. Joel sipped from your fountain, leaving not even one drop behind, your pussy licked clean of your own discharge.

His turn to find relief.

Even though Joel had been fisting himself while eating you raw, the roughness of his palm could not compare to your warmth. He just knew your pussy would hug his cock just right. And he was dying to find out.

Pushing his work jeans and boxers down to his ankles, he kicked his feet until they came off. Soon his security shoes and socks were kicked to the side too. With renewed energy, Joel jumped on to the cargo bed. You propped your torso up with the help of your elbows to study his erection, wetting your lips unknowingly.

Your eyes lingered on his cock for too damn long and it twitched on his hand.

“Spread your legs, kiddo.”

And so you did without complaints. You stretched your legs, Joel having a perfect view of your glistening pussy. You were so horny, he could literally see your cunt palpitating from this angle. Knelt between your legs, he leaned forward until the tip of his dick brushed against your slit, so damp again it just slid off. Jerking himself off, he nudged your soaked entrance with his mushroom head and your mouth opened, shaping a perfect O.

“So needy, isn’t she? Aren’t you? Playing difficult to catch today, trying to make me jealous with that stupid boy, but in reality, you’re just a desperate brat wanting to get her pussy drilled by her dad’s best friend.” His dirty talk did not stop while he pushed in, your flesh parting to house him until he bottomed out.

Joel moaned, sweat gathering on his brow, his hands on either side of your head. He stood still for a long minute while your cunt fluttered around him, sheathing his whole length. He could feel your inner muscles adjusting to him.

You were so cockstruck you didn’t even reply.

“I’m gonna fuck you now, so take it well, kiddo.” He warned before tilting his hips back and abruptly back in.

You wailed loudly at the first thrust, and Joel had to muffle your screams by covering your mouth with his hand. You licked his palm, but he didn’t let go. He did not want you to alert the neighbours around the garage. His hips bucked against yours and then, after a few teasing shoves, Joel started jackhammering you fast and viciously hard.

You draped your legs around his waist, the heels of your white tennis pushing on his ass cheeks, encouraging to go deeper and quicker. And so he did, uncovering your mouth to replace it with his.

Joel fucked you mercilessly, filthily. He drove his dick in and out of you in quick succession, drilling your tacky pussy. And he knew you were loving every single second of it. Your soft sobs only spurred him on and when your moist pussy clutched around his drumming cock announcing your orgasm, he couldn’t restraint himself for much longer.

He stoically let you come while riding your own climax. His balls tightened and his belly muscles strained, signalling his own relief.

“Where?”, was the only word that he managed to whisper.

Your eyes were still closed, a languid smile lingering on your lips, all blissful and satisfied while he was still fucking suffering.

“In my mouth.” Your reply was almost his undoing.

Joel snapped his hips back, his hard, throbbing cock slipping out. He dragged his body across yours until his thick, hairy thighs were on each side of your head and his nuts were resting on your chin, his ass hanging over your breasts.

“Open”, he husked, raspy and throaty.

Still with your eyes closed, you parted your lips, and Joel shoved his beating cock down your throat unceremoniously. He leaned forward over you ― his hands holding his weight off you, flat against the cargo bed’s floor. And then Joel started fucking your mouth mindlessly, as if it was your cunt ― his testicles slapping against your chin and your eyes welling up.

He could feel your head almost rocking up and down below him with the strength of his thrusts. You only stopped swaying underneath him when your hands grabbed his buttocks, your fingers sinking in his flesh.

With a guttural growl, Joel came undone and his thick cum filled your mouth. You stayed still while the last white ropes spurted out the slit on his tip, finally reaching the bliss he had been chasing for a week.

Joel lifted his hips off your face and his dick came out of your mouth with a pop.

“Eat it, kiddo.” He requested of you, towering above you.

From this angle, flat on your back and with Joel almost sat on your face, you saw first his balls and then his soft cock hovering over your eyes. What had just happened was filthy, and you loved it, even though you were sure that your throat would hurt tomorrow.

“It’s $300 if I swallow”, you kidded out of nowhere, almost gargling with his cum as your mouth was full of it.

Joel chuckled as he came off you, sitting down on your left.

“Deal”, he agreed.

And so you gulped his cum down, letting it slip down your throat until it landed in your belly. You smiled at him before opening your mouth to show him it was empty.

Joel’s chest rumbled with satisfaction.

“Good girl.”

[pumpkinsy0]

As a preface for the hc request, I live in the middle of nowhere (and when I say the middle of nowhere I mean I live in the same town as Amish communities 😭 there is genuinely nothing to do here except for a single gas station that is basically impossible to walk to half the time)

I would love some hcs of the Curtis bros living in the middle of nowhere in a place like this AND combine that with the au of pony and curly meeting and talking online cause they live far away from each other!!

Maybe they moved there after everything that went down to give a fresh start to Pony or smth and ponyboy turned to the internet to find entertainment and friends 🤷‍♂️ country life was not as good as he imagined HE ROMANTICIZED IT TOO HARD

I am requesting because IHATEITHERE so I need him to experience it as well 💘 love literally everything you post, always a banger 🙏(also sorry for insans yap on my part LMAOO)

this is the perfect ask rn bc ive been thinking about sonething similar for the longest time, god bless u anon🙏🏽🙏🏽

for funsies lets say its like early 2000s

AND THANK U FOR UR SUPPORT,,,ily,,,

•NOW SEE, i dont think they would move out from tulsa after everything, purely for the fact that everything they have is literally there, they cant just uproot their whole lives, yknow?? BUTTT what i will say is that the curtis family gives off the vibe of ppl who HAVE lived in the middle of nowhere and just moved to some place less in the middle of nowhere and thats whats happenin here, they r moving from nowhere to somewhere!!!

•as for how pony and curly met, pony was on some internet forum for tulsa!!! hes a lil curious about where theyre gonna b going but theres a lil stupid TROLL (aka curly) going around it and thats how they met each other :3 curly was specifically targeting pony bc he was a newbie, they took it into arguing in dms but pony was actually pretty funny so they started talking, became friends, pony sent a pic, curly was like “woah mama” annnddddd we get the papercut we know and love

•curlys such an ass bc everytime pony expressed excitement to go to one area like a lake or somethin, curly always ruins it w a “we can go but” and then drops a disgusting fact about the place, if ponys gonna live in tulsa hes gonna b forced to b as unhappy as the residence, aint no frolicking in the flowers here, white boy

•LET THEM PLAN WHEN THEY WANNA MEET UP!!! ponys basically counting the days down and somewhat hiding it from darry. darrys alright when it comes to technology hes not an old man, but its still a new place and he wants to protect pony yknow??? cant imagine the first thing ur baby brother doing is going to meet a stranger and u being 100% on board w it

•soda knows about it and hes talked to curly here n there, sodas still a lil on the fense but glad that ponys making friends w other ppl his age w no help. this is lil one of the rarest instances where sodas kinda open to the idea of pony hanging w curly, revel in it while we’re here

•the video calls between them r something truly special. ponys internet is so ASS and so is curlys, they glitch out sm but theyre used to it now. ANYWAYS, theres been multiple instances if the others family coming in mid call bc theyre both using the family computer thats in the living room, they tease each other for it so bad theres so many inside jokes about it

•this means that darrys looked a lil bit at their messages “on accident” and angelas looked through it just to b nosey, she has no shame about it. darrys managed to personally talk to curly so he felt better about them meeting while angelas just straight up pretended to b curly or got online to lowkey shit talk to pony about him shes sooooo sick of hearing about em😭😭

•curly loves making courage the cowardly dog references to pony by sending him monsters or random scary images on the internet and asking if hes seen them around. does it scare pony???? sometimes, hes not admitting it however

•they gave each other their addresses, if u think them being grounded off the computer was gonna stop em from talking u were sooooo wrong. sometimes cyrly just sends pony a glitter bomb, like i said internet troll over here

•pony sometimes draws curly and sends it over to him, its somewhere hung up on his wall. if anyone ever asks, he tells em he scammed this artist into drawing it for him, he told that story to tim but tim didnt believe him at ALL. next time curly was on call w pony, tim crashed it and started questioning pony. pony was scared shitless❤️

•if ponys moving to tulsa i feel like he also told curly the location of where and curly the little fucking creep he is has been leaving lil notes for pony to see, even carved ponys name on multiple trees so pony couldnt miss it. when pony eventually does move in curly secretly gives him a week to find em all before he just tells pony he did it and shows him around to see them

[rroechan]

The Thorny Spider

spidersona-ish-more-like-oc

'Flying Devil'? 'Spider from Hell'? That's just your terrifying friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man on the prowl!

lots of yapping below

Super late for the spiderverse trend but i've been reading an unfortunate amount of peter parker fics and i couldn't help but pull this guy up from memory

Spider-Thorn? Horned Spider? Spider-Fiend?

His name is Piers Lang, born and raised to kick your ass. With both parents dead at the ripe age of 8, kiddo found himself going from his home in M'sia to living with his aunt and uncle all the way in USA 🫡🦅🇺🇸

Abilities

his abilities are about the same as OG spiderman, like spider-proportional strength, speed, stickiness etc etc. There's only one thing that's vastly different from the others is his enhanced senses

So like, enhanced hearing, scent, that sort of thing. If it was already bad for Peter in his day to dau life, imagine what this guy's goin' through

due to a mix of nature and nuture, his senses, particularly his sorta 'area awareness' is higher than the average spidey

He grew up with terrible vision and in a rough neighbourhood so his senses has always been fairly attuned to his surroundings. A bit like a 6th sense or a natural instinct one would naturally gain over time. The bite basically strengthened all these features except his eyesight (most spider species have poor eyesight. only some have it good. i thought that was funny)

that scene in spider-man: far from home where spidey relies entirely on his spider sense to fight mysterio's drones? Yeah THAT but 10 fold

even when totally blinded, he can use this specific ability to make like a fully 3d mental map of the area around him. Basically seeing everything around him 360 with his eyes closed. So he can fully fight no issue in the dark (basically Daredevil's radar sense)

sometimes he purposely fights with eyes closed cause it helps prevent him from being overwhelmed (even pre-bite he had issues with sensory overloads)

For the hearing and smelling, i tried to see if OG spiderman had any upper limit at all to the distance of his abilities but there's nothing solid :// My guy in particular, I like to think there's no true limit to his sense, like he could track a whole city of people if he wanted but he'd have to be meditating and in a super focused state to do so + overuse of his senses makes his head hurt a lot

Out of the suit, he has a habit of wearing earplugs or earphones constantly playing some genre of white noise. And some strong smelling balm on his upper lip (idk whats the actual english name of it)

Aside from that, he has a few spidery traits (got the idea from a fic, no I do not remember what its name is). The spider he was bitten by had all sorts of different spider dna weaved into it.

He sometimes chirps or purrs when in a good mood or just, when he's comfortable enough to not hide his spidery traits. Has stare offs with actual spiders for dominance. Absurdly flexibles and can get into wild contortionist-like poses and calls them comfortable. Likes smoothies. Gets sleepy when cold. Salvatory glands produce a very mild venom. Yada yada

About the suit

He didn't design it, his man-in-the-chair did. Though he did do all the wiring, engineering etc and was the one who suggested to base the suit design off an orb weaver spider

The red of his suit glows with exposure to UV. Adding on the fact that he mainly patrols at night makes it worse for baddies because imagine you're in the middle of crime-ing and from out the darkness, Satan himself comes to be your reckoning.

The suit being majority black adds the challenge of making sure his poses are readable so that's Fun.

of his 8 'eyes' only 2 of them actually function which are the main ones in the upper front. the others are for show.

The horns are where all the business is at. They all have a solid exterior so he fully can use em to shoulder check, headbutt, etc baddies but their main purpose is to act as antennas. Both for his comms so he can go super long distances without worry as well as help hone and focus his senses to his surrounding area

See, usually his senses is like a motion detector but across a super big area so without earplugs and the smelling balm, his senses are extremely scattered and kinda blurred.

He figured out fairly quick that with antennas connected to his main 'sensory points' on his body help focus his senses to his immediate area instead of being fragmented (does this make sense? im fully bullshitting at this point)

Not illustrated but under the suit he has this network of connected patches (like those they put on you during surgery) to track his stats and junk alongside the whole spidey sense honing thing

Moving on, the spider on the back of his head is actually a later addition cause ppl keep thinking he's supposed to be a demon (him not realising ppl aren't entomology nerds like him)

The spikes on his knuckles are purely for combat and is entirely inspired by his favourite sonic character: Knuckles.

The baggy pants, body suit and hood are all one piece. Only the mask and the utility belt are removable

The whole front of the mask is a solid piece under the fabric. So he can't fold the mask halfway up to his nose and kiss someone upside-down but he can remove one of the lower eye panel thing to eat or drink if he needs to.

the utility belt mostly has his burner phone, zipties, few first aid necessities and cereal bars

I wanted to add a brief telling of his backstory here as well as his ascociation to the spiderverse gang but this post is long enough orz

Ill definitely post abt this guy again though, that's for sure. I'm more a manga fan but I have some plans on mimicking american comics style for some 'fake' comic pages for this guy and his main villain

[lorum-strap]

Manos pt. 1

MANOS

 Deep aromatic skin. A bartender in a taverna. He smelled of cigarettes, bitter sweet compari, disaronno, Mastika with lemon and pipire. Not all at once. It was the flood of memory that made me associate these scents with him. The flavors stuck to my tongue. Just as he stuck to the psyche.

    The taverna called “Fidiou 2” located in Athens, Greece. Fidiou translates to snake funny enough. If I want to be reminded of his essence I will lite a freshly rolled cigarette let it burn by a window like an incense. The nicotine honey that collects on the paper - I will touch to my lips. I will put compari and lime in a shot glass, swirl it around with my finger and suck on it until I get a touch of arousal. Then listen to his voice note that ends with “Kisses Goodnight.”

 A local girl in Athena brought my friend and I to Fidou. We entered the alley in which the tavern was perfectly placed. I was simply enchanted. The energy of the people in the street really fulfilled every small fantasy I had around the European way of life. Traditional music echoed off the marble buildings that towered over us. A meloncholy voice be the proud possessor of a middle aged woman with a tambourine. Accompanying her stunning vibrato, a well seasoned bouzoukia player. Very similar to a mandolin in sound and design. United their soft trance like melodies reverberating around us. 

 Upon entering this place I noticed him sitting at a table and thought to myself - what a beautiful man. I don’t think he noticed me. I was fixed on his traditional zorro-esque, young Jack Sparrow type energy. He stood out from the others. When asked what my type is in a man. I always say its never really physical but more energetic. I am attracted to the man who seeks, who ponders, who embodies. Something I’m reluctant to admit- someone who is slightly troubled at a caliber that doesn’t cause much harm. When you are curious you are always searching for other. Someone who challenges their current state in attempts to evolve.  I know this from the direction in which he gazes - down to the ground. But his shoulders are strong and reach up to the sky. So I know he will find what he’s looking for. 

The staff darted in and out with trays of shots and Greek tapas. They’re all so warm to one another. They were hugging, laughing and sharing kisses cheek to cheek in the European fashion. Shots were poured and the crew broke out into song before they were taken. Their arms layed over each others shoulders smiling from ear to ear. Ive never felt so safe around a group of strangers allowing their love to be shamelessly expressed. It was infectious. After a good many shots we danced to the next party location, this one more modern with a Dj playing mostly American top 40 from 2016. 

My company for the greek portion of my trip were Rea and Nefeli. Rea being a half greek girl from the states strong in her conviction and a great love for the culture. Nefeli, a full blown Greek and very proud to say so. Both unique and gorgeous. 

  We were receiving a lot of attention from the opposite sex. The attention was very respectful and never predatory. The boys were cute and very fun although it was the man I saw at Fidou who pulled up a chair and sat in the front of my mind.

The girls and I danced, sang and laughed until the black sky turned a dark blue. Initiation to the break of dawn. We had been out for a while. A few of the people from Fidou 2 had gotten off work and walked past the small club, rolling their cigarettes, staggering a bit dressed in black and grey colors. I loved their style. Piercings, Mohawks, and buzz cuts. Less punk and more dark bohemian in dress some could say- grunge. Us girls really enjoyed their company. There is something about a sweet and salty mix of characters that are biologically magnetic towards one another.  I asked one of the bartenders from Fidou about the guy with the small hoop earrings, low ponytail and white shirt. Ahhh! Manos! He declared. Yes, yes! Where is he tonight? Ehh he is not here tonight he works at the bar tomorrow - You should come by! He said in a thick Armenian accent. Looking towards the girls my eyes lit up. They chuckled and teased me a bit. Once my compass points a certain direction its hard for me to steer away until its proven unworthy of my attention. So I had to give it a shot.

[creature-wizard]

Y'know, one thing that sets Wicca: Satan's Little White Lie apart from the other "I'm a former member/victim of the global satanic conspiracy" literature I've read, is that Bill Schnoebelen actually argues against ideas he regards as "pagan," and some of what he says is perfectly reasonable.

Unfortunately, he isn't content to merely be a critic of these ideas. He also has to claim, falsely, that Wicca was created by this global satanic conspiracy, and that it's inherently violent and morally corrupting no matter what its practitioners say. He has to claim that he knows this because he, personally, was this Wiccan high priest who was eventually initiated into this global satanic conspiracy, and Wiccans are totally performing human sacrifice, you guys, it's totally part of the religion.

Now he's claiming that the Bible is like an "owner's manual" for human beings. Funny, you'd think that if the Bible was written to be an owner's manual, it might contain content like "warning: constant stress can cause chronic health conditions" or "repeated use of joints without proper rest and care can cause repetitive stress injuries."

But no, what he's actually talking about are the prohibitions from blood, because apparently the Bible's prohibitions on blood exist because otherwise you got a slippery slope to infant sacrifice. Also, he claims horror films are part of this slippery slope:

As I moved deeper into Witchcraft, past the Third Grade level, I found my own fascination with horror films increase geometrically. What began as an intrigue with classic horror films which had no gore, hemorrhaged into a desire to see ever more grotesque displays of charnel house delights.

Then he claims he heard a woman... ummm... having a reaction to a horror film, and that grossed him out so much he left:

During one scene where some totally gruesome things were being done to a female character, I heard these nearly orgasmic moans coming from a middle-aged woman two rows in front of me. I felt the hair stand up on the back of my neck! I decided I’d better leave.

And he claims:

I realize now that there is a real addiction in operation here, similar to the downward spiral which has been noted in much of substance abuse. Blood may well be one of the ultimate substances to abuse! I believe this is why God forbade His people to become involved in it.

Horror films can be extremely cathartic, but calling that sort of thing an "addiction" is extremely wrong. If you had some weird thing about blood, Bill, that was a you problem. Trying to moralize an entire genre of fiction based on how you personally react to it is small-minded and absurd.

He claims:

One you “grant” that blood has magical power and efficacy, you seem to be carried along on a subtle, but inexorable course toward ever more graphic ways of getting it. I can honestly tell you that when the Lord began to draw me out of the occult, I was just millimeters away, spiritually, from being ready to do murder for my “Old Gods.”

If any of this is true, Bill, this was a you problem. Like I've said before, early in the book this guy tries to pass himself off as an innocent man who was seduced into power, but passages like this paint him as an amoral fuckhead who would go along with anything so long as it promised him more power.

And I really think that's who Schnoebelen is. He demonstrates it through publishing books like these, full of bald-faced lies created to exploit a cultural panic and propel him to stardom within that culture. He's hooked on power and greedy for more - but since he's doing it in the name of Jesus, all his Evangelical audience can see is a passionate man of God. It's the perfect grift.

Schnoebelen proceeds to blame porn and horror for the ills of society (as conservative Evangelicals and other puritanical dipshits are wont to do) even suggesting that Ted Bundy is the product of such media, and says that he, Charles Manson, and Richard Ramirez are a "testimony to the seductive power of blood rituals."

I'm sorry, Bill, but the Wiccan-to-serial-killer-pipeline only exists in the imaginations of conservative Christians.

Schnoebelen claims that blood sacrifices exist in other religions because,

Satan is a copycat, and he is the author of all false religion. He knows the Bible well, so he knows that “without shedding of blood is no remission [of sins].” (Hebrews 9:22) and that “it is the blood that maketh an atonement for the soul.” (Leviticus 17:11).

And he says,

This was a horrible mockery by Satan of the sacrifices of the Law of Moses which required unspotted animal sacrifices.24 In place of animals without blemish, Satan substituted babies, their tender years being supposed to guarantee innocence. If babies could not be found, then virgin children (symbolically innocent and unblemished) had to be sacrificed.

So he claims that all of these other cultures were practicing human sacrifice in mockery of his god in particular.

Have people around the world done fucked up things? Yes. Has child sacrifice ever been practiced? Also yes. But his whole assertion that all of these cultures were practicing infant sacrifice all the time, and that this was done specifically to mock his god is absurd. Child sacrifice was certainly horrible, but there were reasons behind it that had nothing to do with Christianity. Furthermore, even among ancient pagans, the practice was controversial. This is not a matter of "Christians good, pagans bad." You can look into this yourself.

Schnoebelen claims,

The central “Mystery” of the Roman church is the Mass, a daily sacrifice of Jesus anew on the altar, followed by the ritual drinking of His blood and eating His flesh. Devout Catholics believe that by doing these rites, they can appease God. Thus, they are tragically steered around the real sacrifice of the cross by Satan.

This is such an absurd description of the Mass, a ritual that seems to have been practiced by early Christians, based on contents of the New Testament. Protestant Christians frequently claim that Catholic priests "re-crucify" Jesus, when in reality the ritual of the Mass is thought to allow people access to the one and single Crucifixion, because God is beyond time and space. And taking Communion isn't about "appeasing" God, it's about becoming one with Christ and the body of Christ.

Like, I dunno dude, when you're so hellbent on taking down the Catholics that you're technically attacking the beliefs expressed in the very book you claim to believe in, you might wanna... rethink a few things?

[fearevillikefire]

Tbh i dont even like not like us... i mean for one thing euphoria was a much much better song. Like much better. I understand not like us is more memorable but what does that matter. i feel like people prefer not like us because it has more of diss energy but then compared to like the greatest diss songs of all time its just not all that good... like i just come back to hit em up. because the thing with not like us is it has these jarring and weird moments that take you out of it so much.. especially that part like 'hey drake they're not slow' it's just like man it's not a bad song but you can tell it was rushed which is fine but it isn't most grammies of all time worthy imo. I mean im not any sort of expert on production but you can just tell the production was rushed too, it's nowhere near the kinda quality you expect from kendrick's music and it suffers bad in comparison to euphoria. also since im talking about him GNX is a good album but it's so not for me right now lol.. if this had come out when i was in middle or high school i would've been real happy but ehhh. anyways i think I'll always prefer good kid mad city over anything else he releases but maybe i just need to sit with the newer stuff longer.. i respected mr morale but never got into it, conceptually i like it but ehh. it's weird cause good kid and damn and to pimp a butterfly are some of my top albums of all time since i was a middle schooler lol but at the same time i listened to logic a lot.. back then i really liked music about struggling cause i was struggling, i was also obsessed with rap, so that's kinda what i naturally gravitated towards.. i know it's stereotypical and shallow when white people say shit like i learned to understand the black experience because of kendrick lamar😫 but it is true i learned to give a fuck from listening to his music all the time from like 12 years old on.. like there's not a chance i would've known anything about antiblack racism or black culture at that age in my majority white/latino community.. so i always appreciate that... hell i probably wouldn't have understood anything about all kinds of themes in his music, poverty, abuse, sex work, drugs, gangs... now i did only get the perspective shared in that music and the shows i watched and shit but it's better than nothing. i have no explanation for why i loved rap so much, but im glad cause i think im a much smarter and more empathetic person thanks to that as an adult. But i gotta say im glad i never took the christian messages or stupid black israelite crap to heart cause.. that's dumb lol. Lol even 12 year old me knew that was crap. I really was a good kid idk why.. i was definitely real politically correct all my life and i have no explanation why i was never racist or homophobic or anything like that.. shit i was always pretty right on the government and shit too, i learned the fbi was against the black panthers when i was like 13 and ran with it for life i guess.. i wonder if being transgender contributed to this shit but honestly idk. It was hard in middle school cause i was always the 1 lone kid who would call out the racist kids saying racist shit to be 'funny' and back then i didn't understand maturity or anything. I was really hostile to those kids because of that and honestly looking back i probably scared the shit out of them. I wasn't a nice kid at all back then.. being politically correct or whatever didn't make me a good person lol. I was really pretty terrible, mean, angry, avoidant. And i wasn't a good friend to my few friends.. they were just weird unpopular girls basically. And i was pretty wrong for this, but on our last day of middle school i was like im deleting everyone's numbers and we're not going to talk again goodbye forever.. and one of my friends even cried 😕 i don't remember what i even said after that... my reasoning was that i'd come out and transition before high school and i wouldn't be connected to anyone from my past since nobody was going to the same school as me. Pretty dumb idea because idk why i thought i could be stealth

[autumnalwalker]

A Dream About Gifted Forms

I am lounging on a beanbag in a dimly-lit familiar room from my childhood home.  Or at least I am in a space that is keeping up that illusion.

On the nearby couch, a vampire is in an argument with a self-proclaimed “storm demon” - a floating being wearing little other than jewelry with the lower body of a snake and a jagged horn protruding from his otherwise human head.  The demon is criticizing the vampire’s tendency to draw out its feedings or to even keep its victims alive for multiple feedings.  He insists that if you’re going to kill a human, it is both more dignified and more ethical to do so in a single moment, like he does with his lightning.  The vampire retorts that they’re not looking to kill humans at all.

A woman dressed in white with a face shrouded in shadow shushes their bickering and comes over to me, asking if I’ve made up my mind yet or if she should choose for me.  She puts her hands on either side of my face and turns my head this way and that while musing that I would look good with a snowy white owl’s head.  As difficult as it is for any of us to disagree with her about anything, I manage to shake her soft grip and say that I have something in mind.  Or at least a vague idea. 

A loving hive mind that only assimilates those who wish for it and leaves each of its members with some core part of themselves intact. That is what I tell her I wish to become the center of. She finds it to be an interesting challenge; a novelty not yet seen in the new world she is creating.  She asks me how I imagine the physical transformation her change to me must necessarily entail and my mind drifts towards the porcelain and clockwork doll lying in the corner of the room.  I don’t think I wish to be so Still and empty as that one asked her to make it, but something about the form seems appropriate.  And maybe I could even make that one the first to join with me so that it may have some Purpose rather than lying there gathering dust. 

The woman agrees to my proposal, bemused.

Grateful, I leave the room and find myself in the dining area of an antique tavern and inn with no door behind me to that place I just came from. I have not yet visibly changed and do not yet feel any different, but all the same I begin my search for those who might be willing to join their minds to mine as the first members of a new collective.  Alas, the tavern seems to be all but empty.  I open the front door to look outside and find it to be the middle of the night.   The bell that jingles when I open the door causes two wolves a little way down the lamp-lit cobblestone street to rouse from their rest and start towards me, only to be stopped by the chains leashing them to that other building’s doorframe.  Startled, I close the door and step back inside. 

I notice a voice coming from above and ascend the nearby stairs to find an elderly, gray-bearded, dark-skinned man wearing a gray-green robe and matching round cap.  He at first appears to be talking to himself while he eats, but as I finish climbing the stairs I see that he is addressing a calico cat underneath a nearby table. I greet him and the cat alike.  It does not take long for me to coax the cat out from under the table, and the man and I both remark on how friendly she is and how loudly she purrs while she allows herself to be pet and rubs against us.  I marvel over how soft and well-groomed her fur is, despite the strange patchwork quality to how some spots are long-haired and some spots are short. I barely pay any mind to the white substance somewhere between soap suds and mucus that coats my hand after I pet her.

The man and I get to talking.  He is a philosopher of sorts; wise and well-traveled and funny.  I think to myself that he would make a wonderful addition to the hive mind I seek to become.  Perhaps the offer of a clockwork body to escape his old age and continue learning for ages to come would entice him.

Before I get the chance to make my offer, the cat gets into his dinner.  We laugh and comment on her appetite, unsated even after we’ve been feeding her bits all night.

The cat looks up at us and speaks:

“I will eat all of Ra.”

[fantastic-bby]

SKZ as animal hybrid boyfriends

Pairing: Reader x Members

Word count: 2.9k

Genre: Fluff | Headcanon | Animal Hybrid/Shifter AU | Boyfriend AU

Warnings: Very brief mention of spiders

Masterlist

Chan

A husky hybrid

Has the CUTEST pair of gray and white ears that stick out of the top of his head

Also has the most gorgeous pair of pale blue eyes that glow in the dark

He has a fluffy white tail that wags like crazy whenever he’s excited because he doesn’t know how to stop it from showing

He’s also the sweetest boyfriend in. The. WORLD!

Always asks how you’re doing

Makes sure your not missing any meals and that you’re always hydrated

Every morning, he wakes you up with cute good morning texts and he always tries to send you good night texts sometimes forgets because he gets so caught up in work

He makes up for it tho

Sends flowers to your place whenever he forgets uwu

Chan’s the perfect boyfriend

The only problem is that you’re allergic to dogs

He didn’t realise why you always seemed to sneezy and stuffy whenever you would come over to his place

Until you told him

And his reaction makes you feel like you just told him the most horrific thing in the world

To him it is!!!!

Because he’s the reason that you’ve been having allergic reactions around him!!

He starts vacuuming his place more often to keep any fur away and makes sure to keep the area super clean so that you’re clear from anything that could cause a reaction

He also starts lint rolling and vacuuming his clothes before giving them to you so that you don’t take any of his fur home unless you ask him to leave his fur

Chan gets confused whenever you tell him that you don’t want him to vacuum or wash his hoodies before giving them to you

But you like them because every time you see the strands of gray and white fur sticking out of his hoodie, it reminds you of him

So instead,

Chan starts buying a crap ton of allergy meds

Puts them in every corner of his house

In the bathroom

The kitchen

The living room

The bedroom

Literally everywhere just in case you get a super bad reaction

That way he’s always prepared for anything

Minho

A maine coon hybrid

The most luscious fur ever known to man

His cat ears are so fluffy and always well groomed

He has this beautiful fluffy orange tail that he’s gotten pretty good at hiding his feelings with

Usually a hybrid’s animal features would probably give away their emotions, but Minho learned to control his ears and tails really well

It’s just that his ears are really sensitive and they flick around every few seconds whenever he’s in a crowded place

He has a pair of yellow eyes that are constantly in the shape of slits simply because he wants to intimidate everyone around him

Also always has his claws out because they intimidate strangers

Wouldn’t tell anyone, but Minho lets his pupils dilate when he’s alone with you (´∀｀)♡

He also likes to tease you a lot but you know he’s just joking because if he was serious, his tail wouldn’t be so related

You try not to tell him because then he’ll start working harder to hide his tail swishes

Is the most precious yet teasing boyfriend out there

He’ll make a joke about you eating a lot of ice cream whenever you’re sad, but he’ll always have your favourite ice cream in the freezer

If you complain about some kind of muscle pain, Min would call you weak but then also come home with muscle relief patches that he’ll stick to you himself

Minho likes to shift into cat form if you’re stressed because then it means that he wouldn’t really disturb you a lot

His footsteps are way quieter when he’s in cat form as compared to human form

So if you’re stressed or tired and you ask him to give you time

Minho would shift and hide in one of the cat towers he bought for himself until he hears you coming out of the bedroom

The moment he hears the sound of the bedroom door opening, he’ll lift his head and peek out from the top

If you sit on the floor right in front of the tower, Minho will scurry off of the tower to sit in your lap to

But if you don’t even look at the tower and you instead go to the kitchen, he’ll wait a bit longer to give you more time

Changbin

Yk I wanna say he’d be some cursed Dwaekki hybrid the skzoo dwaekki haunts me in my sleep

But I genuinely feel like he’d be something really threatening like a wild animal

So if Chan’s a husky and Minho’s a maine coon

I’m gonna throw Changbin in as a grizzly bear because he’s a tank of a man and I love him for that

His ears are dark brown and rounded, poking out from the top of his head

His eyes are super dark brown and sometimes you can’t even tell if you’re able to see the white in his eyes bcs his pupils are just that big

His hands have these huge black claws that could claw someone apart if he wanted to

Also has a cute brown tail that he often hides underneath his clothes because it’s small enough for him to sit on

He gives THE BEST CUDDLESSSS!!!!!

Sometimes shifts into bear form just to cuddle you because it’s cold and relying on the heater might make it too warm

So Binnie likes to use his own fur to warm you up if he notices you shivering

Also would not hesitate to bear his teeth at anyone who tries to hurt you

Changbin doesn’t really tell anyone this

But one of his proudest bear traits is his ability to vocalise like a bear

Which means that whenever he feels the need to protect you or whoever’s around him

He will growl like a bear

And it’s terrifying

You didn’t even know that Changbin could roar until one night when a stranger wouldn't take your ‘no’ as an answer and your boyfriend almost lost his mind

He pulled you behind him and grabbed the collar of their shirt and just roared at them

The stranger being a hybrid of a smaller bear species immediately scrambled off

But Changbin also immediately switches back into sweet, cuddly boyfriend the moment he turns back to you <3

Hyunjin

A sphynx hybrid

Very dramatic

Very loud

He has pink cat ears sticking out of the top of his head with a little black splotch on his left ear

He also has this naked pink tail that sticks out from underneath his shirt

Every minor inconvenience and Hyunjin’s meowing and whining to you about it and you think it’s funny every time he does

Like the time he misplaced his sock and was crying all over your shared home looking for it until he found it underneath the bed

His claws are retractable, so he usually hides them because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone on accident unlike Minho

He’s VERY cuddly both in human form and cat form

Hyunjin likes to do the ‘kneading the dough’ thing whenever you’re cuddling

And ends up leaving holes in your clothes because his claws would accidentally grab onto the fabric

Would also feel really bad afterwards because now he’s ruined your shirt

You reassure him that it’s fine

But Hyunjin’s dramatic also kinda wants an excuse to go shopping with you

So he cries about it and it leads to him dragging you to the mall so that he can buy you a new one

Ends up getting distracted at a cat cafe because he’s made conversation with one of the cats there

And he’s basically talking to them like he’s a middle aged wine mom talking about their weird husbands

You have to remind him what the goal is

But he’s so immersed in the conversation with the orange tabby that you can only watch in amusement

Hyunjin’s talking to it in English while the cat nods with it’s tail swishing every time he asks it a question, mewling every once in a while as a response

You watch with a smile on your face, chin resting against the palm of your hand as you listen

You can only gather that Hyunjin’s telling the cat about why you’re at the mall

And the cat turns to you with a bored expression on its face before meowing

“She says good luck on finding a new shirt”

You nod and reach out to pet the cat’s head as thanks

You and Hyunjin leave after a while

And soon, the trip to get one shirt turns into a shared shopping spree

Jisung

Kinda obvious but he’s a squirrel hybrid

He has a pair of rounded, light brown ears on the top of his head

A bushy light brown tail that bumps into everything whenever he’s in cramped spaces

And the CUTEST pair of brown eyes EVERRRRR

His squirrel trait is where he gets the habit of stuffing food into his cheeks whenever he eats

Ji’s really good at climbing

So he has this long ass piece of wood that he keeps in the living room of his home so that he can still climb something in squirrel form if he can’t go outside

He also has tiny black claws that he uses mainly for practicality when he's in human form

So stuff like cutting into plastic, through strings and to open mail

He just slides his finger across the top of the envelope and boom

Jisung’s quite clumsy

It doesn’t help that he has this huge, bushy tail behind him

He bumps you with it a lot and he’s always so apologetic over it

But it’s fine because it’s his tail and it’s soft and cute and it’s part of Jisung UwU

There were a couple of times where you would wake up and his tail would be tickling your sides

So you’d wake up giggling

And it would wake him up too

He’d turn around and immediately wrap his arms around your waist to cuddle into you

You love playing with his ears

Jisung’s really responsive whenever you pet his squirrel features

So if you touch his tail in public

He’s jolting forward like AHHH

And you like to gently rub his ears whenever you’re cuddling

Jisung usually ends up cuddling into you more because he really likes it whenever you play with his ears

He has a habit of making those squirrel squeaks whenever he’s uncomfortable

So in public, if he feels like he’s overwhelmed or wants to leave

He’ll cling onto your arm and start squeaking softly so that only you’re able to hear

And it’s an easy way for you to know that he wants to leave without him actually telling you

Felix

Horned owl hybrid

He has two sets of white and brown feathers that poke out from the top of his head and curls to the back

He does, however, have talons at his fingertips that he doesn’t really like because it gets caught on a lot of things

Has feathers running down his arms, but can’t actually fly in human form

His eyes are this beautiful amber colour

He also has a lot of hanging stuff in his house that he likes to fly back and forth to whenever he shifts into owl form

Absolutely loves doing the head spinning trick because you freaked out the first time you saw him do it as a human

Felix also has really light footsteps

So sometimes you don’t even hear him coming into a room and suddenly he’s beside you

Which scares you sometimes

Overall, Felix is just unintentionally scary.

Buuuut

Because he has really good eyesight at night

And because he’s nocturnal

He sleeps in the day

Which means that all of his work is done at night while you’re asleep

His hearing is intense which means that he could hear the smallest pin dropping in the kitchen from the bedroom

So when he hears something strange coming from the kitchen

He’s immediately crawling out of bed and peeking out of the bedroom door

That’s when he sees a spider crawling out from behind the fridge

A huge spider

Now, Felix does NOT like spiders

But he knows that if you wake up in the middle of the night to get a drink, then you’re going to be freaked out by too

But he should be able to toss it out the window in owl form

So Felix pops open one of the windows and shifts

His silent flying and sharp night vision make it a quick mission that’s executed without much hassle

He manages to grab the spider with his talons and just tosses it straight out of the window

By the time Felix has returned to the bedroom

You’ve woken up because you realised he wasn’t beside you anymore

So he climbs back into bed and lets you hold onto him while you fall back asleep

Seungmin

Labrador hybrid

Has a pair of golden ears flopping over the top of his head

Also has a golden tail that he usually hides because if he gets over excited then it’ll wag all over the place and might bump into things

Is a relatively quiet person and is also a quiet dog

He doesn’t say or bark that much

But you’ve come to learn how to read his body language

Because his posture both in human form and dog form speak his thoughts

Like whenever he’s standing tall then you’ll figure that Minnie’s probably uncomfortable or feels threatened

As quiet as he is

He’s extremely attentive to your needs as well

Seungmin’s able to catch your body language way quicker than you are at reading his

Which means that the moment you look uncomfortable, he’s immediately moving to stand beside you with an arm wrapped around you

Think of it as that TikTok trend that’s like ‘using my scary dog privilege’

In this case

Seungmin’s more than happy to be the scary dog that lets you walk around alone

He’d bark and bite at anything or anyone who would try to hurt you

Even in human form, he’d growl as a warning to other animal hybrids that are around you

Whenever you’re out in public, Seungmin tries to stay by your side just in case anything happens

But when he has to part from you to talk to another group of your friends

He keeps you in his line of sight

He’d always angle himself in conversations so that the person he’s talking to has their back facing you so that he’s able to see you

And when a cat hybrid suddenly approaches you

Seungmin’s more on the attentive side but he hasn’t gone into protective mode because you don’t look uncomfortable

But then your frame starts to shrink

He immediately changes his posture

Which scares the people around him because suddenly, Seungmin looks so scary

He waits a moment longer and the moment you start looking around the room for him, he’s shoved his drink into the hands of Hyunjin so that he can make his way over to you

He slings his arm over your shoulder and glares at the cat hybrid who’s now extremely intimidated by the presence of the labrador hybrid

Seungmin leans close to the cat and growls at them until they run off

He stays with you for the rest of the night and the way he stays in protective mode makes you feel safe

Until you get home and Seungmin’s back to this ball of cuddle fluff that you absolutely love (｡♥‿♥｡)

Jeongin

Fennec fox hybrid

Has a big pair of white fluffy ears that poke out of his head

Has a fluffy white tail that blends into a more golden colour that’s long enough to poke out from underneath his shirt

He has super insane hearing

Even if he has headphones in, he can hear the outside world

Bodes well for him because whenever you walk into his apartment, he’ll walk out immediately to greet you

He never actually feels hot or warm because his body heat radiates off of his ears

Is always cold in human form

In fox form, his fur insulates his body instead so he doesn’t feel much of a difference

Has a habit of not drinking for hours because he can get stuck in his fox form

Also has a habit of chewing on your desk plants if he deems them edible

Unfortunately for you, that means you’ll come home to your beautiful plant babies half eaten and munched away because your fox boyfriend wanted a snack

To solve this problem, you filled the fridge with berries and vegetables for whenever he feels like snacking

But sometimes he goes overboard and he pretty much eats everything he can find when he forgets to eat for a while

He’s a fox hybrid that doesn’t know how to shift on command

Usually he has this big urge to shift but he’ll be stuck in one form for a while before being able to switch

He doesn’t know any other fox hybrids

So Jeongin has to learn to control his animalistic instincts with the help of you!

His human partner

Lucky for the both of you

You have a friend who’s a red fox hybrid

She’s not a fennec fox

But she still shares similar instincts to Jeongin because they’re both fox hybrids

So now Jeongin comes to you with the biggest smile on his face whenever he’s accomplished something, gushing about how Fox Noona taught him how to shift on command

He’ll show you

And you watch as he shifts into this tiny little fennec fox with a big smile on his snout (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

[jarfulloftears]

funny how time flies

starring: michael bivins

summary: after trying every traditional method of counseling, one marriage finds itself on the brink of a divorce. Xavier Dean, desperate for a solution to their irreparable woes, turns to an experimental trial to see just where they went wrong.

fyi: the following story is written from a black american perspective and follows characters of the same experience. this story contains but is not limited to: sci-fi elements, vulgar language, drug usage, and potential smut (idk yet lol).

masterlist

author’s note: first off, a very big thanks to @godmia for not only taking my vision of the cover/banner for this story and making it greater than I could’ve ever imagined but also doing so in a timely fashion. be sure to hit her up and get in on her commissions for any of your graphic needs. here are the things she offers.

secondly, this is my first attempt in dipping my toe into the Sci-fi genre, so please let me know what you all think! 🫶🏾 i hope you all enjoy this just as much as I do ♥️⏰.

without further ado, here’s the prologue:

“Mr. Dean? Are you ready?”

A middle-aged man rose from a waiting room chair, footsteps echoing against porcelain tiles as he approached the door that’d been propped open for him. 

The stillness of the room was broken as he softly greeted the woman carrying a paper thin tablet and digital pen. Small talk ensued, becoming muffled as the monument-sized door closed with a colossal thud. 

The duo walked on, exchanging what was regarded as small talk. Little did the man know, the preliminary stage of the experiment had just commenced.

“How are you feeling today, Mr. Dean?”

“I’m doin’ good, and you?”

The statuesque woman, clad in a white coat and matching pencil skirt, smiled gently at the question. “I’m doing quite alright. Are you up for answering a few questions for me?”

“Sure,” he shrugged, figuring that it’d be more absurd if she didn’t have any questions.

“I see here that you filled out our online consultation. Can you clarify what brought you to us?” she inquired while tapping and swiping at the holographic prompts beaming out of the tablet she carried.

He scoffed with amusement. “I mean, y’all are the ones with billboards and blimps like this is the 1980s. You’re impossible to miss.”

The woman indulged him with a chuckle before adding. “Just making sure we’re reaching our target demographic… We aim to pique the interest of many, but tell me… What made you take action? What caused your consultation?”

The quiet chatter of a front office had long since faded— so long, in fact, that he wasn’t quite sure that there was a front office at all. All that remained were the cold, white walls that lined the shine of matching tiles. And the clear echo of footsteps, their footsteps.

As if they were the only two people in the building.

“Well… I had a friend that saw you all. You might know her— Terri Mannigan?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny we’ve had that person, Mr. Dean.”

A suspicious brow was plucked from its usual position on his face.

The woman soothed any wariness with an assuring smile. “I apologize, Mr. Dean, but we take patient confidentiality very seriously here. I’m sure you saw our code of ethics when you made your consultation.”

“Of course. No problem. I wouldn’t want you to try to breach any agreement you’ve made with another client,” he affirmed.

“Yes. So, you said that a friend referred you. What in particular made you consider the referral?”

“She said that she was able to relive her favorite moments… That it let her time travel without all the portal stuff or the butterfly effect. Is that true?”

She laughed lightly, her pearly smile proving to the perfect complement for her rich complexion. “Well, it’s not exactly time travel, but many patients have been able to experience past events, yes.”

“So, if it’s not time travel, what exactly is it?” he asked curiously, making sure that he hadn’t been so mistaken that he’d wasted his time.

“It’s sensory reminiscence. Essentially, we help you pinpoint years and experiences in order to help you revisit them and experience them just as you would the first time… But many patients find the term ‘time travel’ to be easier to explain and digest.”

“Yeah, no kiddin’. Sensory remembrance is a mouth full.”

“Sensory reminiscence,” the woman corrected.

“See?”

She offered a laugh, finding the man to have an easygoing charm. She discreetly made note of that in her own preliminary survey of him— one that would soon be in the hands of psychotherapists and neuroscientists.

“So, Mr. Dean, what do you hope to get out of your trial here?”

“What do people usually get out of it?” he queried, not out of resistance but out of true interest. 

This wasn’t lost on the doctor. In fact, it always brightened her mood to see a new patient. Their eagerness and curiosity reminded her of herself, when she’d first learned about these trials. It was the very thing that made her fall in love with science all over again.

“Well, we use sensory reminiscence for a number of reasons. All of which are still relatively early in their trials, but we believe this can bring forth lots of progress for those with early onset dementia or Alzheimer's…

“We’ve also been watching its effects in much milder cases with those who are in cognitive-behavioral therapy. There’s a variety of outcomes, but it all depends on where you are and what your intentions are upon entering, Mr. Dean… What are yours?”

He thought about it momentarily— not so much his answer but whether he wanted to share it. After all, this was supposed to be small talk, not anything that would be shared with the doctor he’d be meeting with.

Maybe he was just being paranoid, a trait he’d grown into over the years. He decided to suspend his caution. After all, he felt as if he still didn’t know enough to turn back now. So, he didn’t.

“Well, my friend said that through re-living certain moments, she was able to see things with a different point of view. Things that she thought she was right about at that time came back completely different when she saw it now.”

“And you want to see if the same is true for you, correct?”

His answer was accompanied by a nod. “Yeah.”

The woman gave a confident smile, one that offered him comfort as he was jumping feet first into what he saw as his last resort for healing. “I believe that we have just the thing to help you find everything you’re searching for and more.”

He offered a fraction of her grin. “Sounds like a plan,” and with that verbal confirmation, the last of his paper work was done. 

The doctor tapped a button, and the handheld hologram of prompts evaporated from her tablet.

Her steps halted, triggering his to do the same. Her palm found the wall, as plain and smooth as any other wall. But soon, there was a blue light illuminated beneath her fingerprints and without warning, a door was traced into the wall. 

As if someone were drawing it up in real time, a threshold appeared and pitch darkness lived within it.

Caution reappeared like a jumpscare, and although they’d only engaged in small talk, he knew— with an inky abyss standing before him— that it was too late to turn back now.

“Come… Let me show you how it all works,” with reassurance etched into her smile, the doctor eased his anxiety.

And soon enough, the two stepped into the darkness and began the quest in discovering something bigger than the both of them.

[prettynxsty]

Stirring the Hooch 🍷

Domme!Reader x Sub!Jin

Warnings: Morning sex, jin has a pussy, consumption of booze and drunkenness, graphic mentions of vomiting, appearance of ot7, dirty talk, jin is a little bossy, y/n has a big ass dick, use of noona/hyung in a non sexual way, a little bit of cum play, creampie, partially clothed sex.

A/N: Vacation sex with just a liiiiittle bit of plot lmfao. There’s no facefucking because i was worried that it was getting too long. Anyway, enjoy.

You all but crashed out of bed this morning, landing on your hands and knees with a muted thump. You would’ve patted yourself on the back for even managing to strip and change your clothes for bed last night, but you felt like you were still drunk.

You should have regretted everything that happened, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. You plant your palms on the floor, rocking yourself forward and will yourself to start crawling. You knock your yoga mat away from your bags, watching the little purple tube bounce until it goes still.

You slap your hand over it, messily swatting it open. You crawl over it with a sigh and position yourself over the mat. It should have been a bad memory.

_

The table was 3 rounds of shots in before the waitress kindly reminded you that bottomless mimosas were only 5 dollars. Eyebrows rose around in a wave, sharing a devilish look of agreement. It was vacation, wasn’t it?

Something crazy began to leak out of your ears when you decided to cash in.

Namjoon was the first to throw himself to his feet, climb on the booth and begin dancing. Jimin whoops to the beat in encouragement, clumsily scrambling up on his chair to join his hyung.

Yoongi gets this strange look in his eye, dumping himself over Hoseok’s shoulder. They howled in laughter until Yoongi was crying. Actually crying.

What pleasantly surprised you the most is when Yoongi kneeled on the booth, facing away from the other side of the table, and began to shake his ass in a way that you wouldn’t have expected from him.

Jungkook’s faith was tested today, usually as the one who finishes everyone else's food, he decided to polish off the rest of everyone’s glasses.

Your sight of the world is stilted, moving in colored frames. You hear the noise of a bit of crashing and chair shifting, turning to see Jin. His sandals slap noisily against the floor as he barrels onto the dance floor, into the middle of the crowd.

Taehyung is bouncing up and down in his seat, shouting adlibs to the sound, pumping his hand in the air. You allow your head to fall forward, shoulders bouncing with a slow bout of laughter that makes your whole body bounce.

_

You slide your hands backward until they reach your knees, flipping your palms. You take a slow breath in, resting your forehead against the floor. You feel a dancing in your spine, your body so desperately wants to sway to sound that is not heard. The spirits must dance amongst themselves, you must return to yourself, to the terran world.

_

The same translucent lasso wraps around your arms and squeezes them to your sides. A burning call. You’re apt to rise when you’re full of this feeling, the pull is something indescribable. It crawls from the soles of your feet, causing them to tap. It races through you, your shoulders are swaying like a pendulum.

Deny yourself, you will not. You flew, tripping over the flat of the ground and blitz into the crowd to dance.

_

You breathe out slowly, flipping your palms and walking them forward. Your torso follows until your hips carefully nestle on the mat. Like sizzling wisps of smoke, the tightness knotted in you began to dissipate. You stretch your shoulders backward, gentle snaps and pops bursting in the air due to the tension knotted into your limbs like loops pulled too tight.

_

You’re screaming to every second beat, the world below is more than a reach away. Your legs are swinging through the gap between Namjoon and Jungkook’s shoulders. It feels as if the whole building is bouncing with you, your sanity went back to the home to rest.

_

You tilt your hips forward, leaning your weight onto the balls of your feet before rising into downward dog. Your lower back clicks, a rattling groan of relief shivers its way out of your mouth. You were finally beginning to feel your clothes against your body.

Your cock hangs limply out of one of the leg holes of your tiny shorts, scrunched up to your inner thighs. Your breasts sway gently, peering their way through the large holes of your oversized tank top. There was no reason that you wore that thing to bed, you usually woke up with a breast hanging out somehow.

_

It was a wonder you weren’t kicked out. You had no idea who paid for dinner, the amount would feel exorbitant. Nonetheless, a vacation should be indulgent.

Despite everyone being so ridiculously inebriated, you managed to concur that taking a taxi would be more trouble than it was worth since nobody was sober enough.

The villa was only a few blocks away anyway.

You hardly made it two block away from the place before everything seemed to fall into itself. Jimin dumped himself on the curb to take off his shoes even though he was only wearing sandals. Jungkook tripped his way over to the trash can on the corner as quickly as he could for someone who was plastered.

He grips handfuls of his shirt to hold it out of the way, even when drunk he was still meticulous. He retches weakly.

Risotto wasn’t nearly was beautiful or decadent when it came back out. Twenty-plus dollars directly into the bin on the city street. He gags so forcefully that he misses for a split second, a bit of cream colored mush dripping over the side before wetly splashing over the rest of the discarded garbage inside.

“Oh gawd- let’s go get him something.” Hoseok misses at patting your shoulder, but grabs your hand to drag you across the empty street to the convenience store on the other side.

You tried to straighten up when the cooler air washes over you, but your eyes were still very bleary. You stop by the baked goods and grab him a delicious yeasty smelling twisted donut and a ginger ale.

Hoseok stumbles up to the counter beside you, plopping a few bags of chips on it. “The salt will settle his tummy,” he explains quickly.

You give him a goofy smile, shaking your head and hand the cashier a little over exact change in cash. You gently push their hand away when they offer back the remaining coins, scooping up your items and head on your way.

You return across the street to Jimin struggling to stay awake from where he sat on the curb, Yoongi and Taehyung quietly hugging, Jin staring into the void of stars, and Namjoon showering kisses over Jungkook’s forehead.

“My poor Googoo,” he wails dramatically. Jungkook puckers his lips, prompting a raspy shriek from the older as he stumbles away. Jungkook chuckles, spreading his arms wide in request of an embrace.

You cringe, holding out the donut and drink with an awkward smile. It wasn’t as if he reeked of vomit, you just preferred for him to settle his stomach first.

“Googieeee~!” Hoseok shrieks, nearly tripping over the curb before hugging the younger man.

“Thank you Noona.” Jungkook pouts from over Hoseok’s shoulder, clumsily taking the items from your hand.

_

You turn your torso to the side, shifting your left foot forward into a lunge. You raise your arm with a slow breath inward, shifting your weight accordingly.

Jin was beautiful even when he snored all night, he was propped against the pillows like Snow White in her glass case. He’d opened his eyes quite a bit ago, silently watching you stretch yourself out.

“You look really tempting when you do that, babe.” He rasps.

Your impenetrable focus is shattered, causing you to cover your face with an incredulous laugh. “Before breakfast?”

“Hell yeah before breakfast, I don’t just wanna look, I wanna touch. Come here.”

“You’re still drunk too, huh?”

“There are a lot of times that I’m insatiable, but I want it right now.”

His assertiveness always sends a funny little churn through your belly.

You slowly shift the weight of your body onto your feet and stand. Not as heavy or dizzy as before, but a different tingling began to set inside of you. Your glance down, reaching to unfurl your shorts.

“Uh-uh, leave them like that.” He gives you a smile that’s absolutely devilish, shoving the sheets away from his lap. “Come to mama.”

It dawns on you as you approach the bed that he must’ve snatched up your shirt to sleep. It rode up his belly just a little, leading way to his light blue slip.

You plant your hands on the mattress, crawling in between his thighs. He leans forward, placing his hands on your hips and gently rubbing your sides. You cup his face, gently combing through his messy black tufts with your fingers.

His eyes scrunch up with a giddy chuckle, his neck was still flushed. Not quite as much as dark juice that leaks from berries gnashed between teeth. But rather the breath of age that colored ripened flesh of fruit from taught and pale shells surrounding infant seeds.

You imagined him as your first cabernet.

You were home alone. There was never any alcohol in the cabinets, not within your reach. However there was one bottle that sat on the highest shelf that’d begun to haunt your mind.

You thought about him day and night, wondering if you should be so daring as to wrap your fingers around the cork and pluck it out.

The bottle was dark, not so much as black, but an impenetrable brown of iodine or creamless coffee.

You stood in the pantry, door closed behind you as if there would be a soul to see. You rise with the aid of a little black stool, carefully grabbing the ruby red scarf wrapped around the bottle’s neck.

The pop of the remaining forth of the cork causes your breathing to break away. Dare it be said this noise was foreign, not yet attributed to merriment and celebration for you.

You raise the bottle to your lips and pour it in. The mouth feel is heavier than water, nothing unsettling.

Your tongue begins to glitter in a way you cannot determine if it’s unpleasant or lovely. Effervescence. Armoracia assaults your tongue, strangling with a fruitiness.

Your brows furrow, trampled all is with acridity. Your throat seems to close, denying entry to such drink, warming the back of your nostrils. With a thick noise, you manage to swallow it. A strange trail of fire roasts a trail over the back of your esophagus before heating the pool of your stomach.

Your adolescent tongue was unable to accord with this experience. Turned away, you squeeze the cork back in the bottle and return it to where it rest before and exit the pantry.

He, before you, a taste of wine that prompted you to have another sip. You couldn’t help but polish him off over and over again. His well never ran dry.

You kiss him with a soft hum. You imagine the taste of mature grapes. His lips push against yours hungrily, flexing and relaxing like the yielding of fruit under your teeth.

From the spring, you made him feel refreshed and clear. God himself ran your droplets from the glacier and straight into his cup.

He drank from many places, many streams. You were of the first, the only to cleanse and wash his palate.

Your depth, your minerals, mellowed his harshness, his sting. No longer rousing spirits, he bestows joy amongst all.

Your hand slips from his hair, landing gently on his shoulder. Your fingertips roll into the thick of his shoulder, squeezing it as he slips his tongue through your lips.

He reaches up the leg of your shorts, wrapping his hand around your warm shaft. He’s priming you to fuck him, to use him like some breeding buck.

He jerks his hand slowly but firmly. You groan into his mouth, nearly squirming at the sensation of your foreskin rolling and stretching over the tip of your cock.

Your hand drops from his shoulder, fingers dipping their way under his panties. His croon tingles the seam of your mouth as you slip your fingers in between his outer lips and spread them apart.

It was as if he shocked you, you pull from his lips with a wet smack to catch your breath. He always made you feel so crazy. Jin smiles, slowly thumbing at your tip.

The tip of your tongue heavily slips from your gums to sweep away the deeper notes on your bottom lip.

He hesitates not to drink of your spring, leaning in and draws your tongue between his mouth with a greedy swallow. Flushing and blooming, your belly burns just as your first taste did.

His lengthy fingers slip under your night shirt, curling around the heft of your breast. He releases your mouth with a full sigh of satisfaction.

You lift your fingers to your mouth, sweeping away his pussy juice with your tongue. You hum from the pit of your gut, you could taste the fruit of the land already. The musky aroma of papaya and melon, added tang of pineapple, the earthy, milkiness of coconut.

“I wanna do it raw,” he breathes as his knuckles gently close around and twist your nipple. You glance up at him, slipping your slick fingers out of your mouth and dig them back under the hem of his undergarments.

You never did it with condoms anyway, but he never failed to grasp his chance to set your blood asunder. You drag the tips of your fingers over his inner lips, stretching and spreading them. You drag your middle finger along the seam of his petals, swirling it around his hole and gently digging it against his clit.

He hisses, rolling his hips in hopes you’d give him more.

“Did you hear me?”

He releases his grip on your breast, cupping your chin and guiding you to meet his eyes.

“I want you to fuck me raw, that means I want you to cum inside of me.” His following moan is a beautiful titter as he drags the thick of his tongue over your lips, kissing you noisily. He releases the grip of your cock, wiggling forward to lay back against the bed.

He was only ever so demanding when he was itching for you to make a mess of him. As he moves to make simple work of his panties, you take note to do the same and rid yourself of your own bottoms.

You wiggle off of the bed, wiggling your shorts down to your ankles.

“You’re so bossy today. You’re gonna need to slobber on it first, Jinnie.”

His heart seizes, bursting into a shower of pretty pink butterflies. His cunt flutters immediately at the sonority that coats your voice in viscous amber.

He quickly walks his hands forward, shifting toward the end of the bed and rolling onto his tummy. He needlessly pretties himself for you, combing his hair away from his forehead. His eyes are positively twinkling as he rests his chin on the mattress.

“It’d be quite the inconvenience if one of the others were to come in and see me cramming my dick into your mouth,” you click your tongue. You place your hand on his head, lovingly stroking his cheek with your thumb. “Maybe I should use this mouth more often, it’s much quieter.”

He furrows his brows, inhaling quickly to fix you with a response.

Your resolve crumbles with your face scrunching up in amusement. “Okay! Okay! Don’t say anything, open your mouth.”

He makes a face, cutting his eyes at you as you grab ahold of your shaft and position it at his mouth.

_

“Fuck, fuck.. Turn around, let me see your pussy.” You step backward to free yourself from his mouth, trying to catch your breath.

He licks his swollen, slobbery lips with a smile and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Jin turns slowly, propping himself up on his knees. You took an unsteady breath inward to ask about his well being, but when he presented himself, you understood immediately.

His cunt was fully in bloom between his thighs, fatter, puffier. Healthily flushed and glistening, you clap your hand over his ass.

He whines, couldn’t you see the syrupy drips and trails clinging to his inner thighs?

You push his ass up with your palm, admiring how his pussy stretched and trembled. You decidedly slip your thumb just barely in between his lips and swirl your finger through his arousal.

You grip the base of your cock with your other hand and press it up against his hole. The upper half of his body relaxes instantly, slumping against the bed with a croon that sends chills spidering over your heated flesh.

You rock forward gently, pushing your way inside of him. Jin takes to you without hesitation, pulsing and squeezing around you.

“This fucking-” you clap your hand over his ass with more force “-cunt is always so good to me,” you growl.

He mewls when you bottom out, rolling your hips forward to push deeper into him.

You rear back, easily building your pace inside of him. You move your grip to taking tight handfuls of the shirt that rolled up his back, yanking him back against you with each thrust inward.

Each moan of his began long and drawn out like the soft calls of the loon under nightfall. You prop your foot up on the bed frame, planting yourself more firmly to set a stronger pace.

The noise of your skin clapping together began to bounce off of the walls, rocking to bed to which he gripped so dearly.

You allow yourself to fall astray of control, pounding into him with deep, sharp strikes. His moans quickly evolve into frantic wails, his voice catches in his throat each time you drag him away from squirming into the escape.

You cease only for a moment to allow him to catch his breath, to which his forehead drops against the sheets with a muted rustle.

A second was efficient enough, you shift your foot and plant it more firmly before you continue your assault on his poor pussy.

He whines something at you, muffled.

“What was that?” You purr, continuing to jerk your hips shamelessly. Your moans rise and flow from your lips like a steady spring.

He manages to lift his head, thrashing it with a keen when you plunge in just a bit harder than before. It was so hard to speak when you kept knocking the breath out of his lungs. “You’re too deep inside,” he whines, unable to control the moans squeezing through his noisy panting.

“It’s too deep?” You coo, feeling your lips curl in a slight smile when you watch his messy head of black hair bob up and down.

“Roll over so I can play with your pussy,” you slow your relentless thrusts and gently move back until your cock flops wetly out of his hole.

He slumps almost completely when you pull out of him, weakly propping his palms up and laying down. Use of his legs was reasonably impossible as of now, which you quickly noted. “Move back a little,” he scoots himself backward almost pitifully.

If you weren’t almost painfully hard, you’d be more willing to let him take a break. You climb onto the bed and straddle his right thigh, propping the left over your shoulder.

You nudge yourself in between his lips, guiding your shaft until it catches against his sloppy hole. He whimpers, dropping his head back when you push your way in. His pussy accommodates you with an indecent squish.

You wrap your arm around the leg thrown over your shoulder, rocking into him. You peer down at him, his eyes were still glassy from your abuse of his throat. Your breath hitches in your throat as you jerk your hips forward, the clap of your balls against the back of his ass echoes louder.

“I wish you knew what you do to me,” you sigh hotly through teeth clenched. Your molars grind together as you return to pistoning inside of him, mashing your pelvis into his.

He was foolish enough to tilt his hips forward, the entire bed rocks pitifully as a testament to its modern craftsmanship.

Jin was flushed down to his chest, puckered lips flapping with each noisy gasp. He felt so light, he couldn’t tell if he were near fainting.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” he yelps. He is barely able to lift his hands and shove his shirt around to play with his nipples.

You gently stretch his mound toward him, stroking your thumb around the spongy flesh near his clit. His shriek catches on the back of his tongue, you feel yourself begin to burn and melt.

Ruby red drips of wax cooling against a marble counter.

You nearly pull out of him on instinct, gripping the base of your dick with an ugly whimper. Your body seizes, rigid as you begin to cum.

You can hardly hear his breath in your ears over the sound of your heartbeat, your own moans are high and shaking.

You pull away from him with a rattling breath, unleashing a few final weak spurts against his folds.

You struggle to regulate your own rhythm, clumsily slipping your fingers in his sloppy cunt to spread your cum around. He whines, swatting at your hand.

“Heh,” your chest bounces weakly, “we were probably so loud.”

“I’m too tired to nag you, but I could’ve died.”

“Oh hush, we need to get ready soon.”

He gives you a crazy look before dropping his head back down and motioning you toward the door. “It’s not like you broke my legs or anything.”

_

“When do we get our turn?” Jimin calls from the dining room with a telling smile.

You stop cold in the entryway of the hall, turning to see the table full of your friends. They erupt in whooping laughter that causes you to continue hurrying on your way to run the bath. None of them should have even been alive at that hour, not with how they were last night.

“Nah, come back! I didn’t know Seokjin-Hyung could hit those kinds of notes!” Namjoon calls after you, cackling.

[seita]

— don’t ask | hitoshi shinsou (m.)

pairing: hitoshi shinsou/f!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

wordcount: 𝟷𝟹𝟻𝟿𝟶

cw: roommate!au, sugar baby!au

tags: heavy pining, arguments, briefly ft.kaminari, rejection, possessiveness, jealousy, crying, dirty talk, pet names, dom!shinsou, fingering, riding, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, praise (?), marking, creampie, angst with a happy ending.

note: this is a thank you for 5k followers! i can’t believe i hit such a milestone in only like a month and a half! i appreciate the love and support everyone has given me and i promise to put out more quality content going forwarad!

— you thought it was strange a guy your age made such good money by seemingly doing nothing. whenever you would question him about his income, he’d grow defensive. once a month, a left the house for a few days; leaving to perform a mysterious job he didn’t want you to know about.

⇦ back to navigation

© all content belongs to seita 2020. do not modify or repost.  

When you saw the flier for someone looking for a new roommate, you honestly thought it was one big scam. You assumed that the second you set up a meeting, you would be kidnapped and never seen again. 

Being a lowly college kid meant you didn’t have your sea legs in the adult world quite yet. Swamped with studies, horrible at managing your time and your stress levels, you were left a constant mess. So, your solution was to stick to studying for the most part and work part-time so the job didn’t take up too much of your time. 

Another genius idea you had was the age-old roommate situation. You started out looking for listings online for preferably Musutafu or Tokyo. Alas, you came up with nothing after a handful of weeks and were intending to give up. 

However, a stop by the grocery store changed everything. It was a flyer for someone looking for a roommate in an area of Tokyo that you knew to be pretty pricey. 

It was close enough to your college campus so you wouldn’t have to worry about a stupid commute. You thought it was too good to be true as you looked at the information stating you wouldn’t even need to pay rent. You’d simply have to split some bills and buy your own groceries. 

The idea of not having to shell out hundreds of dollars a month was appealing on its own; you’d definitely be able to save with a living situation like that. 

The logical side of you was weary, however. The entire thing could be a ploy to trick some unsuspecting victim, like yourself, into who knows what. 

Still, it probably wouldn’t hurt to contact the person just in case it wasn’t a trick. No harm in checking, you supposed. 

Tugging the flyer down from where it was pinned up on the bulletin board, you folded it up and tucked it away in the front pocket of your purse to take care of when you got home from classes. 

All of that led you to meeting one Hitoshi Shinsou. He was a tall, tired looking guy around your age. His most prominent feature was the fluffy mess of purple hair that was atop his head. When you first met him, he fixed you with a cold gaze ― his purple irises burning holes into you. And for a second you were sure that you were right on your hunch and you were never going to return home. 

Nothing of consequence happened, naturally, and instead he showed you the bedroom you would be using and handed you a key before sitting down on the couch to watch TV. The whole exchange was unlike anything you expected. When you questioned him he simply told you he’d get everything straight for you and that you could begin to move in whenever. 

So you did.

As expected of such an expensive apartment, the room you were given was great. It was roomy and nothing like you assumed you would wind up with. Most college students wind up with a shitty roommate, a one-bedroom apartment, and instant ramen for dinner every night. 

Instead you got the chillest roommate known to mankind. Shinsou barely even made a peep. Most of the time you found him relaxing in front of the TV watching murder documentaries. You did learn that the poor guy had insomnia and as a result was up almost every night. Sometimes you would catch him snoozing on the couch but that rarely lasted more than 2 or 3 hours before he was up and about once again. 

You did learn that the man was a lousy cook so he mostly lived on instant ramen before you moved in. Luckily for him, you enjoyed cooking and decided to be the one to make meals for the two of you. To say Shinsou was appreciative was an understatement. 

Simply put, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. 

And so bloomed an easy friendship with him. Shinsou made it easy to befriend, although he was a quiet guy he was funny and charismatic; the type of guy who probably had a lot of friends. 

You lived there for about a month when you noticed the first weird disappearance. 

You had been laying in bed, eyes closed as you slowly began to drift off to the white noise of your overhead fan. 

What lulled you from your daze was the beep of the alarm at the front door. Sitting up, you listened carefully only to hear a couple beeps and the click of the door shutting. 

Frowning, you got out of the bed and wrapped your blanket around your shoulders to shield yourself from the chilled apartment air. Your footsteps were silent as you padded your way to the entryway. You immediately noticed that Shinsou’s shoes were gone from where they should have been sitting beside the front door. 

You checked his bedroom to find that he was, indeed, not there. You simply assumed he had gone for a walk or to a convenience store or something since he couldn’t sleep and went back to bed. That was certainly not something uncommon for the insomniac you called a roommate. 

When you got up in the morning, however, you noticed he was still gone. 

You wandered into the kitchen, intending to open the fridge to start something for breakfast only to find a cute cat-themed sticky note plastered to the front of it. Written in your roommates sloppy handwriting was “I won’t be home for a few days.”

Short and to the point but still causing questions to arise in response. 

You had no choice but to carry on. You could text him and question him but you had a feeling you wouldn’t actually get any information. 

Two days was how long he was gone for. He turned on the second night, looking as tired as usual. 

“I’m home,” he called with a heavy sigh, kicking his shoes off before dropping the heavy duffle bag he carried to the floor. 

“Hey,” you greeted over the back of the couch, “I uh...made dinner but I didn’t make any for you. I didn’t know when you’d be home.”

“It’s fine, I already ate anyway,” he hummed, dropping his full weight onto the empty cushion beside you. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. 

You eyed him and decided to simply not ask about the hickey on his pale skin. 

The time ticked past midnight and you stood up, yawning as you stretched, “I’m heading to bed.”

“Alright,” he mumbled, finally stealing the remote from you, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Hey…” you paused at the entrance to the hallway, deciding to chance it, “Where did you go anyway?”

“...To work,” he replied, simply. 

His tone held a sense of finality to it, leaving no room for you to inquire exactly what that meant. So, with a final bid, you went to your bedroom. 

It was almost like deja vu, laying in bed as you fell asleep only to hear the beeping of that alarm. You sat up and climbed out of bed, intending to catch Shinsou before he was gone but as you reached the living room, you heard the front door click shut and he was gone. 

Sighing, you wandered to the kitchen to find another note like you’d seen last time stuck to the fridge. 

As you glanced at the calendar on the wall, you realized it was almost exactly a month since the last time he did this ― you remembered because he left on the 23rd and it was currently the 22nd. You could practically feel the dots forming but you had absolutely no way of connecting them. 

Deciding to retire to bed, you attempted to sleep but found yourself thinking of Shinsou. 

Two months in a row he vanished around the same time, in the middle of the night leaving only a note. Now that you thought about it, he didn’t seem to have a job ― he only said his disappearance was part of his job. But he came back with a hickey. 

Sighing, you rolled over and attempted to fall asleep. 

Two days later, he came home. 

“I’m back,” he grumbled. 

Immediately, you noted the aggravated tone to his voice. Sitting up from where you were sprawled out on the couch, you eyed him. Instead of just dropping his duffle bag like he had last time, he took it straight to the laundry room. 

As he disappeared into the kitchen, you got up and followed him. He was squatting on the floor, rummaging through the bag as he tossed out pieces of clothing. You leaned on the door jam with your arms folded on your chest. Whether or not he knew you were there, you didn’t know. 

“There’s some dinner left for you,” you said softly, watching him pause and look over his shoulder at you.

“I already ate,” he replied, voice cold. 

You frowned, standing up straight, “Alright, well…” you sighed, “I’ll wrap it up and put it in the fridge in case you get hungry tonight.”

He didn’t reply but you kept watching him. He moved to fully sit on the floor, stretching his legs out in front of him with a grunt. You noticed that he was separating the clothes into two piles. Closer inspection brought your attention to the price tags attached to the clothes in one pile. 

You found yourself wondering where he got those clothes from but you decided not to ask. He seemed to be in a rather sour mood. 

He left the new clothes on the floor and dumped the others into the washing machine. With quick efficiency, he started the cycle and stuffed the remaining clothes back into his bag. 

You backed up to allow him to leave the laundry room. His shoulders were stiff and his posture was tense. It was a complete 180 from how you usually saw him. 

“You um...you alright?”  you finally asked when he sat down on the couch. 

He barely spared you a glance before propping his feet up on the coffee table, turning the TV on. Realizing you weren’t getting a response, you attempted to brush off the brief anger that flashed through you and instead went to the kitchen to clean everything up. 

You didn’t know why he was being so rude to you ― it’s not like you did anything to him. Deciding to just head to your bedroom to study, you shut off the kitchen light and skirted behind the couch to avoid getting in his way of the TV. 

He didn’t say a word as you disappeared down the hallway. 

As opposed to last time, his ‘work’ seemed to have not gone too well this time around. At least the last time, he was just tired and feeling lazy. 

You could still hear the TV going when you put all your stuff away and crawled into bed. 

The next morning, you awoke with a sigh. Sitting up, you stretched until you felt your joints pop.

As you wandered out of your bedroom, you heard the shower going, indicating Shinsou was still around. Not that you were expecting any different. 

You fixed a quick, simple breakfast for you and Shinsou, hearing the shower turn off as you finished. Wiping your washed hands on your pants, you made your way to the bathroom.

You only got to knock on the door once before it was yanked open. Suddenly, your mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton. 

He stood there, his usual fluffy hair flattened and hanging haphazardly around his face. He wore his usual bored expression despite the fact he was standing there, dripping wet with only a towel around his waist. Immediately, you got a whiff of his body wash and shampoo, making you swallow thickly. 

Fuck, he smelled really good. You always thought so, when he sat on the couch beside you, you could always smell that delicious, musky scent of his body wash mixed with the spice of his cologne. But freshly washed with it, you were nearly salivating at the smell. 

“Um…” you swallowed thickly, tearing your gaze away from the well built muscles under those baggy clothes he always wore, “B-Breakfast is ready…”

“Okay,” he mumbled, moving to skirt around you. 

You sighed, assuming he was still in a shit mood again. Running a hand through your hair, you shook the delectable sight of him fresh out of the shower from your mind. As you went to go back to the kitchen, a large hand grappled around your wrist. 

“Hey,” he mumbled. You looked over your shoulder to see him nervously rubbing the back of his neck, a habit you’d seen numerous times before, “I’m sorry...about yesterday.”

“Huh?” you raised a brow, trying to ignore how big his hand was around your wrist. 

“I was in a shit mood and I took it out on you,” he explained, “So I’m sorry about that.”

“Oh,” you relaxed slightly and smiled, realizing he was actually in a decent mood today, “It’s okay.”

He gave you his own relieved smile, making your heart lurch in your chest at the sight. It was rare to see any other expression beyond that tired, bored look he always wore. Finally releasing his hold on your wrist, he spoke again, “Let me get dressed and I’ll come eat.”

“Alright,” you nodded, biting your lip as he turned his back to you. As he walked you could see the way the muscles flexed under the skin. 

When he finally vanished through his bedroom door, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Shaking your head you moved back to the kitchen intending to stuff your face to forget about how hot Hitoshi Shinsou really was. 

Before, you thought he was good looking. Usually dark circles were unbecoming but they looked almost at home on his face. His skin was nearly flawless and looked soft to the touch ― you’d seen the skincare products housed in his cabinet. It was expensive shit too. Seriously, what was the guy's job?

That thought had your mind wandering back to the monthly disappearances. 

The chair scraped against the floor as he came back ― wearing a baggy t-shirt and black sweats. He immediately dug in and began to eat. 

“So...I have to ask,” he paused, brows coming together in a scowl as you uttered those words.

“Don’t ask,” he mumbled, shaking his head.

“I just wanted to ask...if this is a monthly thing. I’ve only been here for 2 so...I just wanted to make sure,” you clarified, watching his shoulder relax. He seemed extremely defensive over any questions related to his ‘job’, you noted. 

“Yeah. Once at the end of the month I leave for two days to work,” he answered simply, obviously avoiding giving any more information that you could feed off of. 

He was smart at least. 

The sun finally dipped below the horizon and the two of you were sitting on the couch watching TV. He had some documentary on but truthfully you weren’t paying a whole lot of attention to it. 

For some reason, your mind kept bringing you back to the sight that morning of Shinsou. As you looked at him sitting beside you, arm tossed casually over the back of the couch as he slouched with his legs spread, you found yourself admiring him. 

He had a sharp jaw and pretty lips. A look lower, your eyes landed on his hands ― long, pretty fingers with prominent veins beneath the pale skin. 

Suddenly, his sharp gaze cut from the TV to you and you found yourself locked in a gaze with him for a split second before you broke away to look at the TV once more. In your peripheral, you swear you saw a smirk crossing his face. 

But he didn’t comment and for that, you were thankful. 

You bid him goodnight and as usual, he stayed up. You began to wonder if the man even tried to sleep anymore. 

You stepped into the bathroom, warning your roommate that you were taking a shower. He shouted back a simple ‘okay’ before you shut the door. 

You stepped under the stream of water after stripping, the steam of the hot water filling the bathroom and relaxing your muscles. You tipped your head back to wet your hair, humming to yourself. 

You eyed Shinsou’s body wash sitting in the purple caddy handing on a hook on the wall. It brought you back to how nice he smelled when he was close to you. When you could feel his body warmth radiating off of him. You would look at him, his shoulders broad and his body warm and inviting. It was nearly impossible to resist the urge to cuddle yourself into his chest. 

You wondered what it would be like to lay against him, his arms wrapped around you as he softly stroked your skin. Maybe he would press a soft kiss to your forehead ― the idea alone made you melt. 

Realizing you had lost yourself in thought, you hurried to finish your shower and get to bed. 

You fell asleep with Shinsou on your mind that night. 

Shinsou’s third monthly work time finally rolled around once again. This time, you stayed up late so Shinsou had no choice but the interact before he left. You were hoping to maybe get more hints about what it is he did. 

He shut his bedroom door, hoisting his duffle bag over his shoulder with a grunt. You were surprised to see him in actual clothes ― rather nice ones as well. 

His jeans fit him perfectly and the button down shirt he wore was tucked in, showing off his lean figure. The belt buckle on his jeans indicated it was name brand and you found yourself wondering how much his job even paid. 

“I’ll be home same as usual,” he mumbled, bending down to slide his shoes on at the door. He looked so good doing just a simple task and you found your heart racing in your chest. His shoulders were accented so well by his shirt. The sleeves were rolled up halfway on his forearms and there was an expensive looking watch on one of his wrists. 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he opened the door ― suddenly finding that you didn’t want him to leave. 

“Um…” you called, making him pause in the open door, looking over his shoulder with a brow raised in question, “You...uh…” you struggled to find something to say but he waited patiently for you to form your next words, “Have a nice time...come home soon.”

Your heart thudded painfully as you watched his gaze soften, a smile forming on his lips as he nodded, “I’ll see you later, ______.”

Your ears were ringing as he shut the door, the sound of your name coming from his lips echoing in your head. You sunk down onto the couch, hand on your chest as you came to a startling realization. 

You had a crush on your roommate. 

Living with Shinsou after coming to terms that you had a crush on him was...difficult to say the least. Simple things he did that you used to pay no mind to, you now found yourself getting jittery at the sight. 

Like the way he rubbed his eyes with a fist when he woke up from a nap on the couch, a sound you could only describe as a whine coming from his throat as he sat up. 

The day your kitchen sink stopped working and he had to fix it was one you wouldn’t ever forget. He was leaning beneath the sink, in the cabinet on his back as he fiddled with some tools on the pipes. His white t-shirt became see-through as he sweat from the hard work, his biceps flexing with every movement he made. His shirt rode up a bit over his stomach, exposing his abs that moved and rippled with every movement. His sweats were riding low on his hips, exposing that delicious v-line and happy trail that vanished beneath the band.

The worst part was the way you could see everything in those gray sweatpants he wore. You were pretty sure he wasn’t wearing any underwear. 

You had to leave the room and hide in your bedroom with the window open until he finally finished fixing it. 

You definitely didn’t let your hand slide down your panties to the mental image of him that night. 

Despite living together for nearly four months, you knew close to nothing personal about Shinsou. Putting aside his weird, shady two-day job once a month, you didn’t have anything else to go off of on who he was. 

He was a quiet guy who liked documentaries, video games, and had insomnia. He really loved to eat breakfast foods and cats. Although you hadn’t been in his room even once, only had a couple peeks inside, you knew he owned some cat-themed stationary at the very least. 

Despite his cold appearance, he was actually quite kindhearted and gentle but seemed to have no desire to show it unless necessary. One time, you cut your finger while cooking and you swear you’d never seen him run faster to get a bandaid from the bathroom ― one with a cat on it, no less. 

You still remember the feeling of his hand holding yours and how close his face was as he inspected the cut. You could have leaned in and kissed him so easily then. 

And god was that tempting. 

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize the glass you were holding in your hand slipped free until it shattered in a million pieces across the linoleum floor. You gasped, startled as you looked around for a way to escape but a single step in an area you thought was clear brought a cry from your lips as you stepped on the tiny shards. 

You heard a loud thump from the living room where he had been playing a video game before the thundering footsteps raced into the kitchen. Shinsou’s eyes were wide, like he was terrified of what he would find. 

“Don’t move,” he snapped, noting the way you leaned against the counter to take your injured foot off of the ground. He opened the storage cabinet and pulled out the broom and dust pan. 

It took only a few minutes for him to clean it up enough to get to you safely on his own bare feet. Instead of you limping your way to the living room however, you found yourself swept off your feet. 

Your heart raced so hard, you could hear it pounding in your ears. You were cradled against his chest, so warm and firm with his strong arms beneath your knees and shoulders. His heavenly scent surrounded you ― more intense than you’d even smelt it before. As you finally got a close look, you took notice of how his long lashes framed his pretty eyes. 

All too soon, you were placed on the couch and he was disappearing down the hall with quick efficiency. You were still stunned from being in his arms that you barely noticed he had returned until he was on his knees in front of you. 

Immediately, your cheeks bloomed hot with a blush. The image of him on his knees like that immediately sent your mind to a wicked place. 

Luckily your dirty mind was stopped in its tracks when he began pulling glass from your foot.

You gasped in pain, attempting to pull away on reflex but he held strong, sharp gaze burning holes into you.

“Sit still,” he growled, sending a shiver down your spine. 

His voice was so low, so commanding that you found yourself immediately doing what he said. You always were weak to a dominant man. 

Soon enough, your foot was cleaned and he deemed that the bleeding had stopped.

“It’ll probably hurt like hell for a little while when you walk on it,” he warned, packing the first aid away. 

“Thanks Hitoshi,” you smiled, earning a soft nod of acknowledgement from the man. 

The memory of being in his arms, even for that brief moment, was imprinted in your mind. As you laid in bed, you thought about it. It made your stomach flutter in excitement as you fell asleep. 

The fourth monthly job for Shinsou came and unfortunately, you missed him leaving. You had stayed up studying and as a result fell asleep earlier than usual. When you woke up he was already gone and you were left with a painful throb in your heart. 

You missed him. 

As you lazed on the couch, you found your mind wandering to him again. Like always. It was like your mind was cursed. 

You wondered if he thought about you at all. The idea made you feel giddy and you had to bite back a smile. You felt like a silly schoolgirl with your crush ― the way he made your stomach flutter, your heart race, and your cheeks burn was getting ridiculous. It wasn’t like you could confess, he hadn’t given much of a hint that he even thought of you as a friend. Plus, you weren’t sure if you were willing to give up the killer apartment and perfect roommate gig you currently had with a foolish confession. 

You heaved a sigh, sitting up with a new idea in mind. 

A way that you could learn more about him.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the...most noble means. 

Standing outside his bedroom door, you bit your lip. It felt wrong to go into his room without permission. It wasn’t like he went into your room ― as far as you knew, who knows what he did while you were at school or working. 

The metal doorknob was cold in your palm as you turned it and pushed it open with a soft click.

You’d seen his room in quick glances before when he opened it but you’d never gotten to fully inspect it. He had a large bed that took up the most space in his room. Situated on a dresser at the end of the bed was a TV, a Playstation set up beside it. Against the opposite wall was a desk with a gaming computer setup and a red and black gaming chair pushed in neatly. 

There were a few articles of clothing littering the floor around his laundry basket and his closet was partly open to reveal his primarily monochromatic wardrobe choices. 

Walking into the bedroom, you immediately got a whiff of his cologne, making you smile at the addictive scent. You took a seat on the edge of his bed, the black comforter incredibly soft beneath your hands. 

You leaned forward and opened his nightstand drawer, finding nothing too interesting ― a picture of him standing with a smiling boy with crazy green hair, a pink-skinned girl, and a beaming red-haired guy. 

You hadn’t really given it much thought ― that he had friends. He didn’t really talk about anyone, in fact you never heard him mention anyone in his life besides his mom a few times. You did note that he texted on his phone quite a lot and sometimes you could hear him laughing and cursing from his bedroom as he played a video game. You wondered what his friends' names were, what they were like ― what it was like to be friends with Shinsou. 

What you wouldn’t give to be someone...important in his life. 

Sighing, you closed the drawer and moved to his dresser. Your own thoughts caused your heart to ache and you tried to brush it off by looking through the drawers for something interesting. 

Fortunately, you got what you wished for. 

The last drawer to the right contained a little black metal box buried beneath some clothes. You pulled it out and took a seat on the floor, pressing the button to open it. It popped open and you gaped at what you saw. 

It was filled with money. More money than you’d probably ever seen in your whole life. The bills were wrapped together with rubber bands ― there had to be thousands of dollars in even a single stack. As you pulled out the bundles, you found that there were things located beneath them. 

Jewels; all types. Diamond rings, necklaces, bracelets, ruby and emerald gems decorating them. You pulled out a ring and held it up, watching as he gleamed under the light. 

You tucked everything back inside the box and hid it back the way you found it, shutting the drawer before standing up. 

You had no idea what to think as you shut his door once again, moving to your own room. How could he have all that money hidden away like that? It was certainly shady. 

Perhaps it was counterfeit? Or maybe he stole it! 

And what about those jewels? Did he steal those too? Why were they hidden instead of sold off somewhere?

You had so many questions and absolutely no answers. 

Suddenly you were regretting going snooping in his room. 

The fifth month of living with him would have to be where things started to go downhill. 

He came home from his weekend away, tired and grumpy, just wanting a relaxing shower. However, you hadn’t realized he was home so in your tired, sleep-filled daze you stumbled to the bathroom with the urgent need to pee. 

You pushed the bathroom door open and halted in your tracks, heart stopping in your chest at the sight of shirtless Shinsou. 

He had his back to you, displaying the angry red scratch marks that raked down the pale skin of his back, making them stand out even more. He realized you were there and spun around, eyes narrowed in a glare. With his chest in view, you could see all the hickeys and bites that trailed down  his body, disappearing in the hem of his jeans that he had yet to shed.

“Get the hell out,” he snapped, ripping the door from your hand before slamming in shut in your face. 

You stared at the wood for several, long seconds, stunned. You heard the shower start and snapped out of your daze. Forgetting your once desperate need to pee, you trudged back to your  bedroom and quietly shut the door. 

You weren’t a fool ― you knew exactly what those marks meant. You crawled under the covers and found yourself wondering what kind of woman got Hitoshi Shinsou’s attention enough to get him into bed. 

And what did she have that you didn’t?

Truth be told, you couldn’t even imagine him as the type to sleep around. He wasn’t exactly sociable and he rarely seemed to go out of his way to interact even with his friends.

You could hear the shower turn off and you were suddenly reminded of the way he slammed the door in your face ― the ache from realizing he’d been with someone else only exacerbated by the knife of his shouting at you. 

You closed your eyes and attempted to sleep, ignoring the sting behind your eyes. 

The next morning, you found yourself not wanting to get out of bed. You could hear Shinsou shuffling around the house, doing god knows what. You heard him walk down the hallway, heart freezing as he stopped in front of your bedroom door. 

You closed your eyes, willing him to go away. 

Luck was not on your side, however, as he knocked thrice on your door. It was loud enough that you knew you wouldn’t be able to feign sleeping through it. 

You sighed and crawled out of bed and trudged over to the door, pulling it open just a bit to get a look at him. 

He had his head down, hand clasped around the nape of his neck with his other hand shoved in his pocket. He looked up when he heard the door open, brows drawn together as he gazed at you partially hiding behind the door. 

“I uh…” he cleared his throat, “I went out and picked us up some breakfast.”

“Oh…” you shifted on your feet awkwardly, nodding your head, “Thanks...I’ll eat later.”

You were about to close the door, desperate to escape the burning in your eyes as you remembered last night. Before it could close, however, he shoved his hand in the crack. You paused, not wanting to crush his hand in the door. You let him push it open to show more of you ― clad in shorts and an oversized t-shirt that you loved to sleep in. Thankfully the shirt was big enough that he wouldn’t be able to tell you weren’t wearing a bra. 

“I have to apologize,” he grunted, meeting your gaze, “I shouldn’t have shouted at you like that last night. I was just ticked off…” he trailed off.

You bit your lip, “I uh...I didn’t know you were home...so that’s why I just...walked in…” 

He shook his head, “No I understand, really. Y-You just surprised me and I reacted. I really need to stop taking my shit out on you, I’ll work on that, really. I shouldn’t have slammed the door like that either. It was a shit night but it wasn’t your fault you didn’t know I came home.”

“I-It’s alright, Hitoshi, really,” you smiled, though it faltered a bit at the memory of those scratches and hickeys.

“I...hope you’re not hiding away in here because I upset you,” he muttered, making you frown once more.

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

He bit his lip, looking away awkwardly, “you’re usually up around 10 and it’s...getting close to noon. You don’t do that normally so...I can only think you were trying to avoid me and that’s the last thing I want. This is your home too and I never want you to feel like you can’t be comfortable here.”

You gaped at him, processing what he was telling you. First, he paid close enough attention to you that he knew what time you got up ― that thought made happiness bloom in your chest and second, that was probably the most you’d heard him say in one sitting.

“It’s okay now, Hitoshi,” you smiled, “let me get dressed and I’ll be out to eat, okay?”

He smiled, making your cheeks burn at the sight as he nodded, turning away from you to move back to the living room. You closed your door and sighed. 

It was crazy how just a simple smile from him had your heart fluttering. However, it was quickly halted by the memory that he had someone ― maybe it was a girlfriend. That made your chest ache and you bit your lip to halt those negative feelings as you stripped and changed out of your pajamas. 

You had no idea how you were going to get past the painful clench in your chest every time you looked at him now. 

Month six rolled around and nothing very interesting happened. Shinsou moved his playstation into the living room so the two of you could play some games together. It was a fun bonding experience and you got to watch the way his eyes would light up whenever he beat you. The sound of his laugh still rang in your ears and you couldn’t help but smile every time you thought back to that pretty smile of his. 

It became a weekly thing for the two of you, every Friday night you would sit down on the couch together and play into the early hours of the morning. You got to know more about Shinsou than you had ever before. 

Sometimes he would jerk his body and brush against yours, sending goosebumps across your skin. He was always so warm and inviting ― just having him near you sent your poor heart into palpitations. 

You almost forgot about what happened the previous month when he came back ― those hickeys and scratches on his back finally having been cast out of your mind. 

Your heart did ache when you bid him goodbye the night he left again, wondering if he was going to see her or not. 

The seventh month was when that already precariously balanced life came crumbling down all at once. 

Shinsou was in the shower as you played on his Playstation, sitting in front of the TV with a frown on your face. You could hear the shower running and in the back of your mind you pictured what he might look like ― water running down his flawless skin, his hands caressing. You felt an almost pitiful clench in your core at the mental image. 

Your perversions were cut short by the sharp ring of the doorbell. You paused your game and groaned as you stood up, your knees popping from being sat in the same position for too long. Unlocking the door, you pulled it open and paused. 

A woman stood on the other side of the door, a well-fitting black dress and fur coat wrapped around her shoulders. Her ears, neck, and wrists were adorned with sparkling jewelry and you could see the red bottoms of her expensive heels. She wore vibrant red lipstick across pretty, smiling lips as she acknowledged you. However, you could see the cold gleam in her eyes that made the smile all too fake. 

“Can I help you?” you asked, leaning against the door jam. 

She hummed, tucking some hair behind her ear with perfectly manicured nails, “Is Toshi here?”

“Toshi?” you raised a brow at the nickname, “He’s in the shower. What do you need?”

“Just to talk,” she replied, stepping forward like she wanted to come in. When you didn’t budge she raised a brow, “You don’t mind if I come in, right? I’m sure Toshi would love to see me.”

“Uh…” you didn’t get a chance to reply as she brushed past you, her shoes clicking on the hardwood floor as she made her way towards the living room, “Sure...come on in…” you whispered sarcastically, rolling your eyes as you shut the door. 

You could hear the shower was turned off, indicating Shinsou would be returning in a minute. You looked at the woman as she glanced around the apartment, feeling a sting of jealousy burning within you. 

Was she the girl he was dating?

“So...how do you know Hitoshi?” you asked, making her smile. 

“I’m his girlfriend, of course!” she beamed, voice far too peppy for your liking.

The words sent an arrow through your heart and you looked away with a hum, ignoring the need to flee to your room and cry into the pillow like a stupid middle schooler. 

As if on cue, the bathroom door opened and Shinsou strolled down the hall, towling his hair as he moved. 

Any other time you would have drooled over the sight of a shirtless Shinsou, gym shorts hanging loose on his hips as he walked.

“Uh...Hitoshi…” you mumbled, getting his attention. 

He looked up from beneath his towel, meeting your gaze before his eyes moved to the woman beside you. Immediately his eyes went wide and he stood up straight. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he snapped, startling you with how aggressive those words came out. 

The girl didn’t seem too affected, merely pouting as she spoke, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“You have no business being here,” he growled, jerking his head to the door, “Get out.”

“No!” she argued, walking right up to him, “I deserve answers before you throw me away like trash, Hitoshi!”

“I don’t owe you anything,” he replied coldly, breezing past both you and her to go to the kitchen. She followed him but you remained in the kitchen, listening as they argued.

“Why won’t you see me anymore?!” she cried, petulantly stomping her heeled foot. 

“Because you got too damn attached,” he spat, opening the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water before walking into the living room again. 

“Attached?!” she gasped, grabbing his arm to force him to look at her, “I have given you so much. How can you just break it off without a real reason! Come on, Toshi, just...be with me, you won’t have to work anymore.”

He tensed, glancing over at you at the mention of her job, jaw set, “Just get out, Kana.”

She looked over at you, a sly smile forming on her lips, “She doesn’t know what you do, does she? Is that why you’re avoiding this?”

He didn’t reply, simply glared at her. Kana scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest, “After all I spent on you, you have no right to just run away. You know I can treat you better than anyone else can, Hitoshi. You’re making a mistake.”

“I have plenty of other clients lined up, Kana,” he shot back, making her frown. He chuckled at the sign of weakness she showed, “What? Did you think you were the only one? No, sweetheart, I have plenty of girls waiting to spend even just one night with me. You’re not special. You’re certainly not the highest paying one either. There’s nothing of importance tying me to you. You have nothing special to offer. You got too attached, starting having feelings for me...you know it would never work with my job. So just leave before you get your feelings hurt.”

Both of you were stunned silent. You because you had never heard him speak so coldly and harshly to someone before ― even when he was having a bad day and accidentally took it out on you. Her because the words he spat out with such venom wrecked her pride and made her burn with anger. 

She clenched her fists and snapped her head towards you, “Best not to get close to this prick,” she warned, her voice watery with unshed tears, “A man who makes money being a sugar baby isn’t one you want to get attached too.”

With those last words, she stormed out. The slam of the door made both you and Shinsou flinch. The silence that followed was even more deafening, however. 

Shinsou cursed under his breath, running a hand through his half-dry hair.

“So...she wasn’t your girlfriend?” you asked, making him look over at you. 

He was quiet for a second before chuckling under his breath, “You learn what my job is and that's the first thing you wonder?”

“Well!” you defended yourself quickly, “She introduced herself as your girlfriend!”

He shook his head, moving around the couch to take a seat, “No, she was just...a client I spent time with for a while. She started catching feelings so I cut it off and referred her to a friend of mine. Apparently...she didn’t like that.”

“How’d she know you lived here?” you asked, sitting beside him.

He shrugged, “She could have looked through my shit at some point, I suppose.”

You hummed, not wanting to push him to reveal more than he wanted to. After all, it wasn’t even his choice to expose his line of work anyway. 

Well, at least you had answers on why he had all those expensive clothes, cash, and jewelry. It was good to know he wasn’t some type of shady thief in the end. 

“It’s...just a really bad idea to get involved with clients,” he explained suddenly, “It’s not a relationship that’s built up on anything real. Having to pay for the company of someone is not a good foundation,” he sighed, running his hand through his hair again before looking at you, “I hope you...don’t think differently of me because of my job.”

You shrugged your shoulders and shook your head, “It’s not really my place to judge you, you know?”

“Thanks,” he smiled, “It’s not really something that’s as bad as people think. It gets a bad rep for having sex for money and shit but...truthfully majority of my job is just...being company to rich women. Sometimes they want to take me around to some fancy parties to show me off or go on dates because they’re lonely. Sex isn’t the majority of what I do. I mean...I will but...it’s not the most common occurrence.”

Once again, the vision of those hickeys and sex-scratches crossed your mind and you found yourself wondering what kind of woman gave him those. At least you could be assured he wasn’t going out to see his girlfriend when he went to work ― they were strictly clients.

Which meant...he was probably single. 

Your heart stuttered in your chest at the hopeful idea. 

“How about I order some take out?” you asked, standing up to retrieve your phone. 

“Get some pizza,” he called as you disappeared down the hall. 

After his occupation was revealed to you, things began to look up. He became more open and carefree around you ― as he no longer had a big secret to hide. He didn’t really talk about his work but he wasn’t hiding it from you either. 

You decided not to ask too many questions, knowing you’d only burn up in jealousy at the idea. You knew you didn’t really have a right to be jealous since you weren’t his girlfriend or anything but you couldn’t help it either. 

The peaceful feeling didn’t last long, however. Once the fire started burning, it had no other choice but to rage. 

“You should really just tell him, _____!” your friend, Uraraka whined, head against the table.

“It’s seriously painful,” Momo agreed, “All this pining is making me sick.”

“Oh real nice,” you rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your coffee. 

It felt nice to hang around with your friends for once ― it wasn’t something you frequently got the opportunity to do. 

Just as Uraraka was about to open her mouth and reply, a looming shadow dropped over the table. You all looked over to find the familiar blonde hair and wide grin.

“Kaminari,” you greeted with a smile.

“Hey _____,” he waved before tucking his hands in his pockets, “Listen, I’ve been wanting to ask for a while but...would you like to go out with me sometime?”

The question left you stunned. 

You weren’t super close to Denki Kaminari, you shared a few general studies classes. He was a goofy, excitable guy who always seemed to know how to light up a room. Everyone around him was always in a good mood, in general he was just a very positive person. 

Not just that but he wasn’t too bad to look at either; with his pretty, wide eyes and sharp jawline. The black lightning bolt streak through his hair just made him look even more charming. 

But you hesitated, your mind drifting to Shinsou. 

Sighing, you bit your lip, “Can I get back to you on that?”

He smiled, nodding his head, obviously relieved you didn’t tell him a flat out no, “No problem. I’ll see you later!”

Once he was gone, a sharp smack landed on your back making you cry out.

“Why didn’t you give him an answer?!” Momo cried.

“Denki’s a great guy, _____! You should do it!” Uraraka added.

You shrugged, “It’s just…”

“If you’re holding out hoping something will miraculously happen with stupid Shinsou, it’s a stupid idea,” Momo said, making you pout that she had read you so easily.

“Just tell him how you feel, _____,” Uraraka sighed, “If he rejects you, you can accept Denki’s date!”

You sighed but didn’t reply. Your two friends shared a look before changing the topic, drawing the attention away from your hopeless crush on your roommate. 

When you got home, you were filled with a sense of urgency. Shinsou wasn’t in the living room so you went to his bedroom, knocking a few times on the door before he opened it. 

“Hey,” he greeted, a tired smile on his face, “Welcome home.”

“Hitoshi,” you swallowed thickly, steeling yourself.

He frowned, “What is it?”

“I need to talk to you,” you breathed.

“Okay,” he stepped aside, waving you into his room.

You hesitated for a second, realizing that there would be no turning back once you walked inside. The door shutting behind you echoed in your head. He moved past you to take a seat on his computer chair. The screen was lit up behind him, indicating he had probably been playing something before you interrupted. 

“I’m all ears,” he said softly, relaxing back in his seat.

“I…” you shifted on your feet, biting your lip, “I got asked out on a date.”

He raised his brow, cocking his head to the side. Part of you had hoped you would see some hint of jealousy from him at your words but his face remained as steely as ever.

“And...you want advice or something?” he chuckled.

You shook your head, “I want to know if…” you took in a deep breath, “If you like me before I accept him.”

He was silent for what felt like an eternity, just staring at you. Shinsou was always the type of man to think before he spoke, running through all possibilities before opening his mouth. His throat moved as he swallowed, a soft sigh coming from his nose.

“You...have a crush on me, or something?” he asked, making you deflate slightly.

“Yes,” you admitted, “And...if you don’t like me back then I’ll accept this boy’s date. There’s no reason for me to wait around and hope you’ll like me back when I could be out meeting someone new.”

He nodded his head, quieting once more. You watched as he stood up, taking a few steps towards you, “_____…” you heart clenched at his tone, knowing what was coming, “My job...it doesn’t leave me room for personal relationships.”

Despite how much you prepared yourself for it, hearing him reject you hurt. You nodded, forcing yourself not to cry as you backed up towards the door.

“Alright then,” you gave him a tight-lipped smile, turning your back to him, “I guess I’ll accept Kaminari’s date then.”

As you walked out his door, you didn’t see the pained look in his eyes. Your name lingered on the tip of his tongue but he didn’t dare speak out. The click of his door was deafening in his ears and when you were gone he sighed, hanging his head as he sat on the edge of his bed, feeling like an idiot. 

The next day, you hunted down Kaminari, telling him you’d love to go out on a date with him. He was thrilled, going off excitedly about how he couldn’t believe you actually accepted him and that he would make it the best date ever. 

And truth be told, the date was a blast. You had told him you’d never been to laser tag before and immediately he said that was exactly what you do then. The sound of Denki’s laughter still echoed in your ears as he lost to you, accusing you of cheating in a lighthearted tone. 

You didn’t see much of Shinsou after you started seeing Kaminari. Although it was casual, you spent a good bit of time hanging out with him ― he began eating with you, Uraraka, and Momo on campus and the two of you texted often. 

It seemed that Shinsou wasn’t making a big effort to hang out with you anyway. As much as that hurt, you knew it was for the best. It spared you a lot of hurt and him of the awkwardness of living with a girl who had a crush on him. 

It was fair enough, you mused. 

But when you laid in bed at night, your phone on silent and the faint sound of Shinsou’s voice floating through the walls as he gamed with his friends, you felt the now familiar tug on your heart. You longed to be with him. 

But you knew it was pointless now. 

You’d been seeing Kaminari for a month when he showed up on your doorstep to pick you up. Usually you would leave and meet him but due to the rain, he opted to pick you up and save you both from the hassle. 

You were in your room, putting the final touches on your makeup when the doorbell rang. Before you could react, you heard Shinsou open the door. 

You quickly grabbed your purse, tossing the strap over your shoulder as you opened your door. You could hear their voices carrying down the hallway.

“Holy shit!” Kaminari laughed, “What a small world ― it’s been a while Hitoshi!”

“Denki,” Shinsou greeted curtly. 

“You ______’s roommate?” Kaminari asked, tucking his hands in his pockets as he waited for you, “She’s talked about you a bit. Didn’t know it was you, though, man!”

“Denki―” Shinsou was about to say something more but was cut off by your entrance.

“Hey there babydoll!” Kaminari greeted with a grin, holding his hand out for you to take, “See you later, Hitoshi!”

Shinsou didn’t respond as he watched the two of you leave, his jaw set tight as he held himself back from calling out. 

-

You felt like you’d never been more angry in your life as you stormed home. Things had been going so well between you and Kaminari, you felt like you could genuinely start to like him. You enjoyed his company and began to think less and less about one purple haired roommate of yours. 

You slammed the front door, startling poor Shinsou on the couch. He turned around, eyes wide at the blazing anger visible on your face.

“What the hell is your problem, Shinsou?!” you cried, kicking your shoes off and tossing your backpack to the floor.

“Huh?” he raised a brow dumbly, only fanning the flames of your rage. 

“You…” you heaved, fists clenched, “Who do you think you are?! Telling Denki to break it off with me?!”

Realization quickly flashed over his face and he groaned, standing up, “I didn’t tell him to break up with you!” he argued. You opened your mouth to retort but he put his hand up to stop you, “I just told him to think it over. Do you know how we know each other, ____?”

“No,” you shook your head, tossing your hands up, “What does it matter? You still have no right to interfere in my relationship!”

“He’s in the same line of work I am!” he snapped, rounding the couch, “He does the same exact thing I do.”

You paused, letting the information sink in, “Why does that matter?”

He shook his head, “Do you really want to be with a guy who spends his nights in bed with women, _____? That’s not exactly the easiest job to trust a man with.”

You didn’t have a retort, “I thought...the majority of the job was just being a companion.”

Shinsou sighed, taking a seat once more, “It really depends on the guy. Denki is pretty popular because he loves to get his dick wet.”

You thought those words would make you feel jealous. The idea of the guy you were seeing fucking other women should make you feel something but instead...you felt almost relieved. Still, it didn’t simmer the anger you felt towards Shinsou at putting his nose in your business.

“You should have come to me and told me your concerns, Shinsou,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him, “Instead of going behind my back for me to be dumped.”

“You’re right,” he admitted, biting his lip, “I just...wanted to see if Denki was still the same as he was when I last knew him. It’s just how it happened. I am sorry.”

Sensing his apology was sincere, you relaxed and nodded, “I’ve got to study.”

With that, you hid away in your room. 

You couldn’t deny you still felt a bit ticked off with him but at least you were able to move past it. You realized you weren’t truly attached to Kaminari, you were just using him to shove your feelings for Shinsou away ― a pretty dick move on your part. So you were relieved to be out of the relationship.

Unfortunately, this left you with Shinsou once more. Where he once was pushed from your mind for the most part, he now resumed plaguing your thoughts. 

You couldn’t deny how tired you were. 

It was emotionally exhausting feeling your heart race at the mere sight of him only for it to ache when you remembered there was no chance in hell he’d even give you the time of day. 

Things reached a head when he returned from work. Eleven months in and all the negative feelings and tension finally culminated. 

“Hey Shinsou,” you called, finding him leaning against the kitchen island with a cereal bar in his hands. 

He looked over his shoulder, an unusually cold look in his eyes as he regarded you, “What?”

You tried not to flinch at the tone, frowning, “Is everything okay?”

“Fine,” he snapped and you sighed, realizing he was in one of his moods, “What do you want?”

“I...nevermind,” you shrugged, “We’ll talk when you’re in a better mood.”

You hadn’t meant for it to be something to piss him off further. You truly meant that you would wait until he felt better to talk. For some reason, however, he took it wrong.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” he growled, pushing himself off of the counter to storm up to you.

“Nothing!” you defended, “I don’t want to get into anything with you, okay?”

“If you have something to say then just say it!” he snapped, making you shake your head.

“No!” you argued, turning on your heel to storm into your bedroom. 

Before you could get very far, however, a tight hand was wrapped around your elbow, pulling you back.

“Don’t fucking run from me!” his tone sent shivers down your spine, the angry fire burning in his eyes finally snapping something inside you.

“I am so fucking tired of this!” you tore your arm from his grip, not missing the frustrated grunt he gave in response, “This shit isn’t working anymore, Shinsou! You clearly don’t know what the hell to do with yourself; you come home from working and you’re in a shit mood and you take it out on me. Then you act like everything is perfectly fine. You know how I feel about you, so you can’t even pretend that doesn’t have anything to do with your behavior. In fact, I know it affects you because why else would you have convinced the only guy I’ve seen in the past like two years to dump me like trash! All over this stupid fucking job of yours. I don’t want to deal with the shitty way you make me feel, Shinsou!”

“So?” he snapped, teeth bared.

“So I’m gonna fucking move out!” you threatened, standing nose to nose with him.

His eyes narrowed and he let out a humourless laugh, “Fine! The sooner the better!”

With those last words he stormed past you, slamming his bedroom door with deafening finality. 

You were left alone in the living room, fists clenched as tears you’d held back so long finally broke free. 

A stupid purple haired idiot was not worth being hurt so much over. That you were sure of. 

It’s not like he even cared, apparently. 

With that thought finally pushing you into action, you returned to your own room to begin looking for new housing. 

In all your time living with him, the longest you went without seeing him was two days. Once a month when he went to work ― that was the only length of time you didn’t see him every day. 

Now, however, the two of you were avoiding each other like the plague. You had been busting your ass finding a new apartment, going to school, and working as usual. Shinsou had been hiding in his room the majority of the time. 

You even stopped cooking. 

Part of you wondered if he even noticed. Deep down, however, you knew he probably didn’t care. 

He would just get a new roommate and go on like usual. Like you had never existed. 

At least you’d be able to get over him then. 

It took a month before you found a decent place. It was nowhere near as nice as your current one but there was nothing you could do about that. Your situation with Shinsou was unique and you knew you were never gonna have an opportunity like this again. 

You came to terms with that. 

Wandering out of your room, you were surprised to find him sitting on the couch. His nose was buried in his phone but the TV played his usual shows. 

“Hey,” you greeted, keeping your voice even. He grunted in response, not looking up, “I found a place. I’ll be out by the end of the week.”

He didn’t say anything and you sighed, feeling your eyes burn. 

How you wished he would say something to stop you ― to show you that the past year wasn’t a huge waste of time and that you really meant nothing to him. You felt you could have at least called yourselves friends but...apparently that was one sided. 

The thought hurt so you escaped to your room once again to hide. 

The night before your move, you were laying in bed playing a game on your phone. Laying on your back, you held the screen up and tapped your thumbs aggressive against the screen. Your momentum was lost by three sharp knocks on your door. You cried out as your phone fell from your hand and dropped on your face. 

“Shit,” you groaned, tossing it away and getting up from bed. 

Opening the door, your words caught in your throat at the sight of Hitoshi Shinsou’s sleepy gaze fixated on you. His hand was clasped around the nape of his neck and he was looking away nervously. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” his head snapped towards you, eyes wide before you realized how that sounded, “I-I mean I thought you were supposed to be gone! You know...to work.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly and he shrugged, “I cancelled. I...wanted...no, I needed to talk to you. Can I come in?”

You stood there for a few seconds, thinking it over before stepping aside to let him in. He gave you a tight lipped smile before you shut the door behind him. Turning to face him, you took note of the way his free hand was shoved into his sweats pocket. The tension was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. 

“What...what did you need?” you asked, sitting on the edge of your bed. 

He remained standing, obviously thinking over his words carefully. His back was to you, his figure hunched slightly in his usual posture. But you couldn’t miss the tension his form held. 

“I never intended this to become a long-term thing,” for a moment you thought he was talking about your living arrangement but before you could refute, he was turning to you, “This sugar baby thing, that is. I had a friend who did it and made some good money from it and eventually I got into the scene and realized just how good it could pay. It’s been like 2 or 3 years now since I’ve been at it.”

He dropped his hand from around his neck, beginning to pace around your room to gaze at your various knick-knacks. He paused at the few boxes you had packed up already, a frown marring his face.

“I make even more money by selling the presents I get. Sometimes the clients will give me jewelry or clothes, I always sell them,” he sighed, picking up a snow globe that sat atop your dresser, shaking it mindlessly to watch the fake snow float around the glass. 

“Why are you telling me this?” you asked softly.

“The truth is, I hate the majority of my job,” he confessed, ignoring your question, “Most of the people are pretentious assholes who think they’re better than me because they pay me. I don’t mind being arm candy, it doesn’t really bother me. And not gonna lie sometimes the sex is bomb,” he chuckled almost lifelessly and you ignored the pang in your chest at his words, “But the position I’m in forces me to basically do whatever they want me to. Naturally, I have limits and shit but if they want to dominate me I let them and that sucks.”

“Hitoshi,” you grumbled, making him look at you, “Why are you telling me about your sexual preferences?”

“Oh right…” he shook his head, “I hate doing it because I don’t have much control in my life because of it,” he looked at you with fierce eyes, “That’s why...I want to say fuck it.”

Before you could respond, he was walking up to you, cupping your cheek in a warm hand. Your eyes were wide, staring up at him as he moved close to you, his lips brushing yours. 

“It’s been so fucking painful letting you go,” he whispered, “Having to reject you and let you go out with fucking Denki nearly broke me down, not gonna lie. I didn’t want him to hurt you, that’s why I interfered...but I also...didn’t want to let him have you when I wanted you so damn bad myself.”

Your heartbeat stuttered as you stared up at him, wide eyed, “D-Does that mean you…”

He nodded, “Shit, I’ve liked you for so long, _____. It’s been so hard not telling you how I feel every single day.”

“Hitoshi,” you likced your lips, reaching up to fist the front of his shirt. He hummed before you spoke again, “Please kiss me.”

There was a quick flash of his smile before his lips met yours ― every bit as soft as you expected them to be. You could faintly taste toothpaste on his lips but you didn’t mind one bit, he probably tasted the same from you. 

His hand moved from your cheek to your jaw, angling your head to deepen the kiss. Your own hands moved around his shoulders, pulling him closer. 

You quickly found yourself on your back, his hand wandering up the hem of your shirt, touching the bare skin of your stomach. You whimpered, fisting his hair as you kept him locked in a kiss. He didn’t seem to mind, simply sighing against your lips. 

You still had questions but you couldn’t bear the thought of stopping this so you tucked them into the back of your mind, devoting yourself to what was right in front of you. 

Shinsou sat up just slightly, breaking the kiss. You almost whined but the feeling of his hand creeping upwards towards your bare breast stopped you.

“Is this okay?” he asked for your consent, pausing before he actually touched you.

“Very,” you breathed, tugging him back down for another kiss. 

Immediately, he cupped your breast, thumbing your already erected nipple. You gasped into his mouth, earning an amused chuckle from him.

“Sensitive?” he asked, pecking your lips before suddenly sitting back. 

This time you did whine at the loss. He flashed you a fond smile before pushing the hem of your shirt up to your neck, revealing your chest to his greedy eyes. 

“D-Don’t just stare,” you complained, feeling your cheeks burn as he admired your body. 

“Sorry,” he replied insincerely, cupping your breast once more, “You have such pretty tits, you know? I couldn’t help it.”

You scoffed but it turned into a choked gasp as he enveloped your pert bud in his hot mouth, wet tongue lashing against it before he pulled away with a firm suck. You wrapped your hands in those soft, purple tresses and whined. His other hand came up to pinch your other nipple, making sure to give it just as much attention. 

“Toshi…” you whined, tugging his hair until he pulled away, his lips swollen. 

“What is it, baby?” he hummed, nosing at your neck to press soft kisses there.

“T-Take your shirt off,” you breathed, tugging at the hem until you were able to pull it over his head with a bit of assistance. 

Once he was as shirtless as you, your hands began to wander to touch every bit of skin you had long to for so long. He let you explore, letting out a soft sigh when you brushed over one of his hardened nipples. You didn’t linger in one place for long, quickly growing too curious at the sight of his member straining against those damn sweatpants he always wore. 

His head tipped back as you palmed him through the fabric, quickly noticing that he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Eagerly, you dipped your fingers beneath the hem and pulled his cock free, your fingers not even able to touch once wrapped around. 

He was thick, a curve to his length that you just knew would hit a certain spot inside of you that would make you lose your mind. The head was a flushed red color, leaking precum that you used to give him a couple easy strokes. 

He reached down, grabbing your wrist to stop you before slipping his own hand down the hem of your shorts and panties. 

Your hips bucked the second his fingers made contact with your folds ― already dripping wet and coating his digits generously. He gave a few soft circles to your clit, testing your sensitivity before finding the pressure that had you cunt clenching around nothing. 

You whined, grinding your hips against his touch in hopes he’d slip at least one of those long fingers into you. Thankfully, you were granted your wish and more as he easily slid his middle and ring fingers in. 

He groaned as you walls tightly clenched around him, trying to desperately pull him back in whenever he pulled them out slightly. 

“Feel good?” he breathed, already knowing the answer but craving your praise.

“So good,” you whimpered, biting your lip. He curled his fingers suddenly, nailing that sweet, spongy spot on your upper wall, “Right there!” you gasped. 

He grinned, massaging that one pleasure-point with vigor, “Yeah? Right there, kitten?”

You keened at the name, walls clenching. He groaned at the feeling, suddenly pulling his hand free from your shorts. You didn’t have time to complain before he was tugging the remaining articles down your legs to toss away. 

He moved with practice expertise, grabbing you beneath the thighs to pin them open. Your wet cunt was exposed to his all too greedy eyes. He licked his lips at the sight, making your cheeks burn. 

Before you knew it, he was kneeling on the floor beside the bed, tugging you down just a bit so your ass was almost hanging off the edge. The position left you completely at his mercy. He knew it too. 

You watched with bated breath as he spread your folds open ― revealing the shiny, pink hole that continuously dripped your arousal. It clenched beneath his leering gaze and he groaned. 

“Fuck!” you squealed when he dove forward to wrap his lips around your hardened clit. 

He hummed at your taste, sending vibrations through the little bud. He quickly abandoned that in favor of getting a full taste of your juices. Tonguing your entrance, he reveled in how tight you were around his tongue. 

You reached down, tanging your fingers in his hair as he ate you with all he had. His tongue worked expertly to circle your clit before dipping back down to your hole once again. 

“Please, put your fingers in,” you begged, desperate to be filled. 

He quickly obliged, slipping two long digits into your clenched pussy before mouthing over your clit eagerly. He could already feel you clenching sporadically around him and he couldn’t resist setting a quick pace, hammering against your sweet spot with every movement. 

Your muscles were taught as you felt that glorious high building up. Soft pleas left your lips as your back arched. 

“Gonna cum, kitten?” he tasted, flicking his tongue against your clit.

“Y-Yeah!” you sobbed, abandoning your hold on his hair to tear at your blankets ― not wanting to hurt him in your throes of pleasure. 

“Cum then,” the casual way he said those words flicked a switch and you were cumming. 

He groaned through your high, feeling your cunt spasm around him. He felt your cum gush from around his digits, soaking them as you clit throbbed beneath the pad of his tongue. Once your body began to relax, he pulled away. 

Your thighs slammed shut once he was out of the way, your muscles trembling through the intense aftershocks. While you were coming down, he stripped himself of his sweats, popping his cum-soaked fingers into his mouth with a groan as he fisted his cock to the sight of you trembling. 

The fact he made you cum so hard was a boost to his ego and he didn’t bother fighting the prideful grin on his face. Sweat coated your skin and made your hair stick to your neck. 

After several seconds, he climbed onto the bed and maneuvered you so your head was in the pillows. You bit your lip and grinned slyly at him as he climbed onto the bed. 

“Shit uh…” he looked around your room quickly, a frown on his lips. You looked up at him curiously before he explained, “Condom?”

You bit your lip and shook your head, “D-Don’t worry about it.”

“Huh?” he gaped down at you.

You shrugged, “I’m on the pill and well...I’m sure you use condoms with you...job, right?”

“Always,” he blinked.

“Then…” you wiggled your hips at him with a cheeky grin. 

He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. Reaching between the two of you, he gripped his cock and tapped the head of it against your folds. Your thighs jumped as he slapped lightly against your sensitive clit. 

Finally, he began to press into you and your mouth fell open at the delicious stretch his cock gave you. He clenched his teeth, letting you soft groans as he sunk more of his length into you. Your walls gripped him so tightly, spasming and clenching as he was fully seated within you. 

The two of you had to pause before continuing, the feeling of him filling you up too much. His cock was thick, making you feel like he was stuffing you full. 

“Please,” you begged, fisting the pillows on either side of your head as he sat back on his heels. 

Gazing between your thighs, he nearly lost it at the sight of your cunt stretched tight to accommodate him. He thumbed over your clit, receiving a sharp cry from your lips. 

“Fuck...you’re so fucking tight,” he growled, circling his hips against yours with a groan, “I can feel you clenching so tight around me. Bet you wanna cum again, huh?”

“Yes!” you cried quickly, mouth agape as he gave a sudden thrust, “Please make me cum!”

He shushed you, rubbing his thumbs over your hips, “Don’t worry, kitten, I got you...I’ll get you there.”

Before you could respond, he was setting an almost brutal pace. You always imagined what Shinsou would be like in bed ― you pictured it too many times at night. Sometimes you imagined he would take it slow with deep, intense thrusts. Other times you’d picture exactly this; rough, harsh thrusts that you were sure were going to leave you sore when the morning came. 

You had no complaints though. 

Hitoshi gripped you beneath your knees, pinning your legs to your chest as he fucked you. Your cunt gushed around him, making lewd, wet noises reverberate around the room and mingle with your mixed moans. He let out groans of pleasure, strands of purple hair sticking to his forehead. 

You couldn’t help but admire the sight of him ― muscles rippling and moving with the force of his thrusts. Reaching up, you pulled him closer against you, dragging your nails across his shoulder blades. 

He winced but you felt his cock twitch at the pinch of pain inflicted as a result. You thought back to what you saw that one night ― the marks some random woman left on his body. Suddenly, you were overcome with the need to mark him as yours. 

Catching him by surprise, you managed to flip him over, straddling his waist, using his strong chest as leverage to fuck yourself on his thick cock. The new angle allowed him to reach even deeper, almost hitting your cervix every time you sunk down on him. He gripped your hips, assisting your movements as he tossed his head back into the pillows. 

“Shit, that’s it, kitten,” he praised, reaching up to pinch one of your nipples.

You keened at the praise, leaning down to deliver a sharp bite against his shoulder, sucking at the skin until a bright red mark bloomed. You eyed it proudly, biting your lip as you ground against his cock, making sure your clit got the attention it needed. 

Shinsou bucked into you, making you whine as he started a steady pace of bouncing. Your thighs burned but it was worth the sight of having him beneath you. The way he stared up at you, as if you were a goddess made your heart race. 

“Toshi…” you whined, leaning back to steady yourself on his thighs as he started to thrust up into you. 

“What is it, babygirl?” he grunted, gripping your hips tightly as he fucked his thick cock into your gushing cunt. 

“Make me cum, please!” you begged, biting your lip. 

He grinned, bringing his thumb to his lips to lick the pad of it, “I got you, baby.”

Before you could think of a response, he was circling his thumb around your clit, the bud desperate for attention. Your body tensed with just a few quick circles of his thumb, his cock angled against your g-spot so perfectly that you immediately reached your high. 

Through your own cries of pleasure, you heard him moaning alongside you before he froze, his cock buried deep inside you as he came. His cock throbbed and pulsed with every jet of hot cum he released into your clenching walls. 

All at once, things stilled. You both relaxed against each other. His cock was still stuffed inside you, softening as his cum leaked out around him to make a mess between the two of you. You laid your head against his chest, his large hand cupping the back of it, pressing soft kisses against your forehead until your heartbeats finally slowed to a reasonable pace. 

“Let’s take a bath, baby,” he groaned as he sat up, keeping you secure in his lap.

You were surprised he could carry you so easily after he nearly fucked the very life out of you. 

Soon enough, you found yourself surrounded by sweet-smelling water with a fucked-out Shinsou cuddling against your back.

“Not to...ruin this afterglow bliss,” you hummed, leaning back against him as the warm water ripped around you, “But what brought this confession on suddenly? I thought you said your job doesn’t allow room for relationships.”

He was quiet for several, long seconds before he leaned forward to press a kiss to your shoulder, “I didn’t think it was fair to let myself be with you when I was going out once a month to hang around with a bunch of women. It isn’t something I want to put you through.”

“So you’re going to quit?” you asked. 

He nodded, “I probably won’t be able to make enough money to keep this place but...if it means I can have you without feeling like shit about hurting you, then yeah. It’ll be worth it, I’m sure.”

“Why don’t you just…” you bit your lip, pausing.

“What?” you questioned, gripping your chin to make you look at him, “Talk to me.”

You hummed, “Just stop with the sex and kissing stuff...just be arm candy, like you said. Hang out with them. They’ll still pay for that, right?”

He raised a brow, shifting so he could look better at your face, “You’d be okay with me going to hang out with a bunch of women who want nothing more than to sit on my dick?”

“Well…” you cleared your throat, your cheeks burning, “As long as only I get to sit on your dick then it’ll be fine. I trust you, Hitoshi.”

He was quiet once again before a smile fell across his lips, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips, “We’ll talk more about it later. Let’s just relax.”

He tucked you against his chest, leaning back against the porcelain of the tub. With his fingers caressing across your skin, you allowed yourself to drift off ― finally wrapped up in those damn arms you dreamed of.

[blue-bird-kny]

This took way to many days to write for absolutely no reason, but I liked it in the end so please, enjoy~Amanda

Warnings: N/a

Words: 2.4k+

↳{Fluffy first baths together are nothing short of what you’d expect with Inosuke}

The gentle pitter-patter of water droplets drizzling down bamboo shoots and swaying green leaves filled the otherwise quiet space. The welcoming scent of dew and greenery danced through the night air as you overlooked the outdoor bathing area, “absolutely perfect” you thought as your muscles cried in despair. You, along with your team of idiots and sweet Nezuko, had walked miles in search of a home bearing the Wisteria crest, everyone in desperate need of some rest, repair, and (hopefully) lots of delicious food. “Come in, young child, as weary as you may be, your body needs food to begin the healing process” a grainy voice beckoned. An elderly woman, just barely 5 feet wrapped in purple with shimmering silver hair, waited patiently beside the open door, “I think my husband was too excited to greet you all because he got carried away and made far too much food” she continued. “Oh don’t worry, my boys are very capable of eating you out of house and home, especially my boyfriend” you giggled while climbing the wooden steps to meet her.

You walked side by side to the dining room, the smell of beef stew and rice already reaching you, “Thanks again, to you and your husband, we’ve spent weeks running around and I know we desperately needed the break” she chuckled, “No need child, my husband misses the thrill of battle even in his old age, so we are thrilled to have you.” your eyes widened slightly but before you could ask the shorter woman of her husband's past, a loud crash could be heard behind the thin sliding door. Behind its papery protection was a scene that couldn’t be anymore hilarious; wrestling on the floor was an older man, thick and burley with round rims sliding down the bump of his nose, hovering over a wailing Zenitsu whose body was being forced into a backbend with his head held tightly in a choke-hold by the man’s hairy arms. Tanjiro stood beside the duo desperately trying to pull his friend out from under the other, trying to talk over the hefty laughter and screaming, while Inosuke stood cheering the man on as if this were some sort of cage fight.

You could feel the twitch in your eye act up, ready to pull them apart but before you could open your mouth the elderly woman cleared her throat, causing the wild bunch to freeze. Her husband's eyes slowly fell on hers as fear overcame them and as for the other three, they couldn’t help but shiver at the dead set look on yours. “What’s going on here?” the women commanded, her steel set tone sending the group scrambling into seated positions as she prowled into the room- you followed slowly behind her. Tanjiro croaked first, “W-well Mr.Shimura was telling us about his days in the force and he just wanted to show us some of his, uh, moves'' Tanjiro's voice wavered a bit at the end, not sure if ‘moves’ was the right way to describe assault. “Y/n! Please don’t let this man torture me anymore, he’s crazy!” the blonde rushed to your side with teary eyes and a tight grip on your arm. The women pulled her large husband up by his ear, “Don’t worry, you children enjoy your food, my husband,” she tugged on the lobe for emphasis, “and I will be off to bed” she turned to you, “I assume you’ll be able to find the bathing area and your room?” “Of course” you assured. The moment the couple became shadows behind the door, you could hear the wife’s grumbling- you couldn’t help but chuckle. 

Unsettled by the silence, you turned to find all eyes on you, waiting for a reprimand you had no intention of delivering, “Oh ease up, eat before the food gets cold'' a collective sigh could be heard around the table, your hand gentle releasing the part of Zenitsu that was still clinging your clothes. The spot open next to Inosuke was as inviting as the mouth-watering scent of a hot meal that had been calling your name since further down the hallways. Your fingers faintly fell on the tuft of your boyfriend's hair, ruffling them a bit, before diving into your own bowl of rice and soup. While Inosuke felt your small act of affection and craved it a bit more, he only offered a messy smile as he shoveled spoonfuls into his mouth. 

Ceramic dishes once filled with hand-cooked deliciousness were now cleaned empty, stacked into small towers all across the wooden table in some sort of toppling city. The room was almost empty too, Zenitsu and Tanjiro both eager to wash the wear away and to finally allow themselves to be consumed by uninterrupted dreams, had already taken off for the night. “I’m going to die,” the bloated heap on the floor cried, his duo-toned hair sprawled out around him and his robe strewn on the ground. You laughed, “No, Inosuke, you aren’t going to die” you laid on the carpet beside him, propped up by one elbow. As the man heaved and sighed as if he were going into labor, your nose caught a whiff of something salty and musty and earthy and gross, “I swear if you don’t go shower right now, my eyes are going to melt from my skull” you complained nasally as you pinched your nostrils shut; You were met with only louder moaning and heaving. “C’mon everyone else already-” you stopped yourself short, an idea too good to pass up crossing your mind. “Since everyone else is already tucked away, why don’t we bath together?” before you could even finish the question, Inosuke sat up faster than light, his eyes challenging yours as if saying “Are you playing me?”. “We never get to do anything just us so if you're up for it, I’m down” you concluded slightly smug as he clung to each word you uttered like a puppy waiting for a treat. You stood to leave, crouching down once more to balance your fingers below his chin, forcing him to face you, “But, no funny business”. 

You didn’t even have to look to see Inosuke was following, his second set of steps echoing yours as if they were the thunder that follows lighting; two things equally as powerful, yet relied on the other for strength. Again, you were greeted by the soft flow of water streaming into the natural spring, the brilliant moonlight above lighting the large basin carved from polished rock that sat in the middle of the space. “Turn around” you asked, to which Inosuke surprisingly compiled too with only a tiny grumble. You slid your filthy clothes off layer by layer, the black garments piled together as you tip-toed into the warm water, the steam instantly feeling irresistible on your skin. “I-I’ll close my eyes so you can get in, too” you stuttered, the heavy realization of the intimacy that was to come next, an intimacy that had never been shared before. “Whatever you want, we’ll be naked anyways in the water” Insouke pointed out as he too discarded his smaller pile onto yours, however, you didn’t dare peek before you heard the breaking of water as he climbed in, didn’t dare breathe as he groaned in relief. Slowly, you uncovered your eyes, trained steadily past the demon slayer's face; awkwardly and in unusual silence, you two sat five feet apart, waiting to see who dared to move first.

Well of course it was Inosuke who shuffled through the water first towards you, “You can look at me, ya know” he said with a sort of want in his voice, as if your gaze offered an approval he sought from only you. Whether the pink that painted his skin was from the temperature or the heat of the moment, you couldn’t tell, but you didn’t dwell on it for long because other things piqued your interest. While the number of times you’ve seen Inosuke wear a shirt was almost non-existent, the steam rising from the water altered his scarred chest into something else; it was more chiseled, more tanned, each dip and mark was more perfect, the reflection below somehow glowed in a way that was more than you had every painted Inosuke to be and it took your breath away. “What are ya looking at?” he asked defensively, fidgeting in an almost timid way; it reminded you that you shouldn’t be nervous around him, “You, ya dummy”. He scoffed at your bluntness, grateful to hear the normal bite in your tongue instead of the disgust he feared you’d feel towards him. His stunning pair of green orbs watched as you leaned closer to him, arms stretched as you grew even closer, “What the hel-” he panicked slightly only to be fooled as you grabbed something that was behind him; two bottles waved in front of his face as you teased, “What? Afraid of some soap, piglet?”. He muttered a string of complaints, ‘tease’ and ‘mean’ being the only two you could work out.

You squeezed the white shampoo into your open palm, setting it down somewhere on the edge of the bath, “May I?” you asked, hovering your hands beside his head. He sucked on his teeth before mumbling a raspy “fine”, easing himself between your awaiting limbs. You worked the suds into his scalp, gently massaging his dark roots with the pads of your thumbs before working your way down to bunch his falling strands, lathering them in the floral-scented soap. As you worked to cover every last inch of his scalp in bubbles, Inosuke struggled to keep quiet; his half-lidded eyes fluttered with every circular rub, his mouth slightly agape as he relished in your touch and had to work at suppressing the purrs that threatened to escape his chest like a cat.

“Bend down a little, will ya” you pushed against his head till he was close enough to the water that when he tipped back, his long tresses would be covered. You rinsed his hair gently, taking your time to enjoy this rare chance  with your loved one (along with the funny faces you knew he was making). Inosuke wanted to say something, anything would do really, but he just couldn’t put syllables together as if with every trail your fingers followed, you sucked away his ability to think. You had already rid his scalp from the soap, however, you weren’t ready to let go just yet; you ushered him out of the water so you could use your nails to push the soaked strands back, twirling them into a loose bun at the back of his head. Inosuke was so close, he was sure he’d make it out of this without any weird noises but the subtle scratching against his skin was too much for any man. A low rumble emerged from his throat followed by a relieved sigh, “If I knew all it took to tame this wild boar was a few head scratches, I’d have started a long time ago” you giggled, sliding your palms down the length of his neck to rest on his shoulders, “all done”. His brows furrowed at the weight behind his head and the lack thereof on his back, “It’s a bun” you explained, “Yea, well I feel bald” “Don’t knock just yet, it helps keep your hair from your face when you’re fighting, plus I think you look hot with it” you tightened your hold on him for a second as a blush crept its way onto his skin.

“It's getting late, you can get out if you want, I’m going to wash up” you reached for the same bottle of shampoo, tipping it over to collect its contents, but before the suds could touch your skin, Inosuke’s grip caught your wrist. “I’ll do it” he stated firmly, “You don’t have to-” “I’ll do it” he repeated, already taking the bottle. A glop of shampoo slapped against his palm as he rushed to spread it between his two hands. You closed your eyes, ready to be serenaded by his sweet touch when you were quickly reminded of who you were dealing with here- the furthest thing from sweet. Water splashed haphazardly as Inosuke drilled into your skull, roughly kneading your scalp. “Ouch! Stop it! Is that what it felt like to you?! Any harder and I’ll be the bald one!” you yelled, moving away from his hands still hanging above the water. Inosuke shrunk a little, visibly upset as he looked to his right at nothing specific. Instantly regretting your reaction, you acted to fix the situation, “Here” you gently placed his thick fingers against your scalp once again this time placing yours above his, easing them into a gentle, rhythmic massage. “See,” you sighed, “not everything in life is a race.”

Inosuke looked at the way your face fell at the feel of his fingers gently working against you, he almost had to double-take to make sure it was his touch that was providing you so much pleasure- in fact, it sort of inflated his already bulging ego. Although he spent less time washing and rinsing your hair as you had hoped (you could have sat there for hours) the water was growing cooler and time was nipping at both your ankles, reminding you of the sleep you oh so needed. Washed and feeling refreshed, you reached for his shoulders, using them to glide through the water until your chest was pressed against his, becoming more familiar with the feel of his warmth against yours. Your arms dangled over his shoulders with your head buried in his neck, while his large palms found themselves holding your waist, “this was fun” you whispered into his skin. Inosuke grunted, exhaustion creeping up on him too. “Let go to bed” you yawned ready to detach yourself reluctantly from the strong man when you were suddenly carried above the water, exposed and shivering you wrapped your legs instinctively around him. “What are you doing?” you asked embarrassed and flushed red. A wide grin overtook his face as he held you tighter, “Figured you’d be too weak to walk after I almost put you to bed with my magical fingers” he replied as he trudged through the water and out the bath, two towels already waiting to dry your skin.

Later that night as you both lay covered in cotton robes and silk sheets surrounded by the gentle buzz of the others snoring around the room, together on one futon with eyelids as heavy as stones, something occurred to you. “Hey babe?” you whispered, getting a half grunt in response, “you never took that bun out, did you?” the arm that was holding you securely to his side flicked you gently, “hush women” he breathed. You chuckled low, snuggling closer into Inosuke's warmth, falling effortlessly into a peaceful sleep.

Thank you~

Masterlist

[keerishima]

HELLO! I saw you were a new blog that needed requests and I was wondering if you could write head-canons for todoroki, bakugou, and kiri (separately) with a s/o that has a witchcraft quirk? TY

well hi! thank you for the request, it was so cool to write! now i’m assuming you mean like a quirk that works like potions and herbs/crystals and spirit summoning and spells which is the road i’m taking i hope that’s okay?

now this boy is

excited

when he first saw the mist swirling around your fingers as you fought the robots in the UA exam, a shock went through his body

what was that? 

okay he didn’t mean to stare- considering he was in the middle of an exam- but the way you moved and the glints of a crystals around your body was just so cool

time passed and he got closer to you, during the dorm competition your room was the only room he wanted to see and boy did he love it

the green ivy and plants in your room, the pots and white smoke curling from diffusers and shelves full of powder and inks organised in a neat row

your room felt like a whole new world- like magic

literally after everyone had left he was still in your room looking around like a meerkat assessing it’s surroundings

fast forward; you guys are dating and he was VERY curious as to how your quirk worked, and you explained how your spells and energy came from the crystals and jewels

each crystal gave you a different energy, which converted to your power!

kirishima literally watched in awe as you pointed at all the different coloured gems and jewels and the symbols on your walls

he even asked to touch some of them and asked where you got them

he also asked to see them in battle, and asked if you had any similar to his own quirk!

the both of you engaged in LOTS of different mock battles, which almost always ended up in a play fight rather than real training- just because he ends up enjoying watching you use your quirk too much to actually focus

once you two had engaged in a long, breathless make out session against one of the walls- what can I say? you wanted to see what it felt like to kiss kirishima in his red riot form and have him melt back to normal under your touch

yeahh...it was a bad idea to do that in the school gym, where half of class 1-B caught you two mushed together against a wall

back to the hc!

he asks SO many questions

sometimes just sits on your bed for ages and asks one after the other after the other, to the point where aizawa has to come and send him back to his side of the dorm

let me tell you now: if you are 1) planning to get anything or 2) NEED anything, don’t let him find out

you once let it slip that you were considering getting pouches to carry these crystals, and the sweet, sweet boy went out and bought BUCKETS of bags

yes buckets because he didn’t know if your crystals would be affected by material or size of the bag or- god forbid what if it did and he ruined your quirk in battle?! 

he’d never forgive himself.

ever.

like literally he’d be on his knees ready for punishment of how you saw fit because of his mistake

what can i say? the boys dramatic

but its endearing :,)

it ended up being the cutest date of you cuddled up on his bed wrapped in his blankets like you were drowning in them,

whilst he sat on the floor, presenting each little bag and pouch to you, all teleshopping style.

‘and THIS 🤩 gorgeous article comes with not just 1😱! not just 2 😱! but THREE 🤯🥵🥳🥳 buttons to clip close to ensure a tight, secure hold of your 😏 special package’

yeah he made a sleazy face

yeah you threw a plushy at him

all of them were bought with your costume in mind and how could you not keep some of the bags? with kirishima watching you with the biggest eyes and slightly-pouting-lips-but-he-would-never-admit-it there was no way you didn’t keep the most useful ones

you asked him to return the extra bags so he wouldn’t have wasted his money, whilst you repaid his kindness with lots and lots of kisses and cuddles

;) or more depending on how you want it

todoroki is uhh...

emotionally constipated

but thats not his fault

#fuckendeavour

sometimes it comes off that he’s not interested in your quirk in a general sense, but it’s only because he doesn’t know how to ask without seeming pushy

he gets shy (but doesn’t show it) but with time that decreases to a sort of dry affection

i’m not saying he’s a dry boyfriend but he definitely isn't as spritely as someone like Denki might be

the way you’d see that he wanted to know more was if he asked you to come and fight with him, train with him and study

this is where he asked about your quirk

he didn’t ask to the extent of kirishima, who said everything that came to mind, he asked precise questions that gave him all the information he was desperate to know because you are so cool it makes his heart burn needed

and he also knew you would add more information as you explained, which he loved because he loved hearing you talk so passionately

this time your quirk allowed you to control people to an extent, depending on different plants and herbs you used

the plants each had a special line, muttered as you dropped the herbs anywhere on your opponent for it to activate

best believe todoroki asked for one to knock endeavour out, literally out of nowhere💀

once, one night you had been laying on your bed, and todoroki had popped over to see you. it was still quite early on in your relationship so you weren’t expecting him to cuddle up beside you and tuck into your smaller body, chin hooked onto your shoulder whilst his eyes bore into yours from below todoroki loves eye contact

‘Do your plants have meanings?’

that’s it, that’s all he softly whispered in your ear

‘What do you mean?’ You whispered back

‘Like...like roses mean love...do your herbs have a meaning linked to what they do?’

okay now he was blushing, very gently because he didn’t want to annoy you, or ask you a question you’d never thought of and make you feel silly or insecure about his quirk

YOU on the other hand were smothering a dopey grin. you knew your boyfriend and his boundaries, and you knew that him asking you in such an intimate setting meant he was trying hard for you

you also knew that he’d just given you free reign to ramble however you saw fit

so you explained, how each herb did this, how if you mixed them they did that, if you made a liquid infused with them it helped with your application in battle and so much more

todoroki listened silently, but his eyes were gleaming

literally glowing in the darkness- I mean was that even possible? it had to have been considering how todoroki looked at you that night

after you were done, he replied with a similar thing about his own quirk, and both of you had a long long chat that went from quirks, to schooling, to life, to aliens and more

todoroki had the weirdest humour, he never knew he was being funny until your quiet giggles morphed into full blown laughter- and caused a knock from the next room over because you were being too loud

he would let out his own little chuckles and smirks, seeing you enjoy his company so much

it was a while after that day when something new happened

you’d sent him a message, whilst he was sitting right next to you, and your contact name flashed on his screen suddenly, catching your eye

‘my calendula’

you looked at todoroki

todoroki looked at you

you both blinked

‘calendula?’ you asked

‘yes’ todoroki replied

‘why calendula?’

‘because,’ todoroki blushed deeply, eyes flickering away from yours

‘because you said calendula means joy...you’re my joy. arent you?’

and god help anyone who tries to say you aren’t todoroki’s joy

because you would literally throw them to the ground

your heart soared at how todoroki loved you and your quirk so much

even though it wasn’t blatantly obvious, it was the little things he did for you 😍

he originally going to call you his basil until Bakugou came round behind him asking him if he was writing the dorms grocery list. safe to say that plan was aborted immediately :D

oho

sorry I just

*pfft*

bakugo amuses me, he really does he’s so entertaining

okay sorry back to the headcanon

I headcanon you’re REALLY strong

like STUPID strong

Remember bakugos reactions to all the students quirks and he was like ‘shit I cant beat them 😨’

And his reaction to todoroki? yeah he’d literally see you use your quirk and just

no I’m joking

but I feel like as your s/o he’d be super obsessed with your quirk

he’d always want to train with you, he’d see it as an amazing part of you that he wants to help hone so you can be the best of the best

not better than him obviously but the best anyway

not that he’d SHOW all of this awe and pride to you, it’s normally delivered in a bunch of bakugo sentences:

‘oi your form is shit. do this instead.’

that means he’s realised a new way you can throw this punch, with much more force

‘tch, go train. you need the training.’

he wants to train with you. again.

‘....finally. took you long enough to learn that.’

you’ve just done something successfully and he’s trying so hard not to blush at how well you did it.

here your power is more destructive

you can create sigils using a your finger in the air and they create attack power

this with bakugos quirk makes a formidable duo, and if he doesn’t get partnered with you he will most likely throw a fit

but not a long fit more of a like ‘oi why is she over there we work better together’

but he realises as heroes you need to work well with anyone you meet, so he’s not too fussy

because of the fact that you draw the sigils, you have a habit of tracing out patterns and new symbols and any sort of designs subconsciously

this is done normally on any part of your skin, with a pen

bakugo being old man bakugo 🙄 got mad at you

he told you off for almost giving yourself ink poisoning and ruining your hand and making it all dirty drama queen

but throughout all of this bakugo had been clutching your hand, and best believe he wasn’t letting go

he used the hand he was holding to pull you along and sit comfortably, dropping his own palm into your lap and mumbling something that kind of, sort of, might have been along the lines of ‘use my arm dumbass’

now you had bakugos arm to scribble on to your hearts content.

you used this when you were stressed, worried that your nerves were causing you to forget things or simply because you wanted to hold bakugo close

in fact, bakugo himself had adopted this habit, and you’ll notice I said arm instead of hand

bakugo got nervous around you, and therefore sweaty, which therefore lead to tiny little explosions in his palms when you were near

but this habit had started to make him feel comfortable with his hands around you, it made him trust himself more

he knew his power was strong and he didn’t want to hurt you, your quirk was something that helped him with that

and he wouldn’t tell you that but he was grateful. VERY grateful

he once asked why you used pen, and not your finger on your skin considering the pen ink is toxic

you answered very quickly, by pulling out a sheet of people and sliding your finger across the surface in a sigil shape

promptly the paper burnt into a cinder :)

and bakugo never asked again

and that is the end! I hope you liked it and I did the idea of Witchcraft justice 😅 please do send some more requests!

god I loved this so much they’re all so cute :,) thank you for this request!!

[capochinootea]

How the Shishigumi met Baby Louis

Me thinks Baby Louis and Shishigumi wholesome time ^-^

Free

When Free first met Louis, it was in the middle of a shootout. He was 17. Young, brash and bold. A few weeks into the Shishigumi, and he's already considered an elite, impressing those who have climbed the ranks for longer.

It was an unfortunate time when Free was met face-to-face with a child, a herbivore child, no less. Guns drawn, ready to fire at their leader’s command. In all Free’s years of living in the Back Alley Market, this is by far, the most ridiculous thing that has ever happened.

Members of the gang yelled for back up. He was ready. Ready to take on their opponents, but what he sees is a much taller, more mature lion- Ibuki, he realizes, blocking his way, hands extended.

...What?

Confused and slightly irritated, he was handed a child and the lion left to help his comrades. Poor and confused 17-year old Free sat there, as the fawn- aged 6- he guessed- giggled at him, oblivious to the danger they’re both in.

---

Ibuki

Livestock. Ibuki never fancied the business. Even for a gangster lion like him, selling livestock- he thinks of it so immoral. You must be completely fucked down to the core if the mafioso lion has more heart than you.

When news travelled to the Shishigumi of a livestock trafficking ring not having paid their share, Ibuki breathed a sigh of relief. An excuse, he thought.

Finally.

But when he got there, it was like a place after war. It smelled of filth, abandon and decay. The building barely stands, it’s pillars a breath away from collapse.

In it lay a single fawn, blood stained but alive. A living, breathing being surrounded by death, of carcasses and corpses. The fawn looked as though he was the god of death himself, mortalized in a fragile being, cursed to wander the earth, leaving death in his footsteps.

---

Dolph

For a lion who’s lived in the market for more than 2 decades, he thought he had seen it all- the mundane, the gruesome, the ridiculous. Hell, the Shishigumi is proof of that. But somehow, not even the pole dancing mice could top this.Standing there, by the mansion’s gates was Ibuki, a sleeping fawn in his arms, bundled in his suit jacket. If he were any more shocked, his jaw might have hit the ground.

Surely the trip to the livestock trafficking ring didn’t hit Ibuki’s head. If not, then that’s probably not Ibuki at all. He was pretty damned sure that if anyone in the Shishigumi were to replace the old chief (should his ultimate demise were to ever happen- he hoped soon), it would be Ibuki.

Yet he stands there, a soft look in his eyes, the happiest he looked since he joined. He can’t help but feel dumb. The market is just full of surprises.

---

Hino

It was Wednesday night. The mansion silent and empty, its corridors barely illuminated by the hanging low light above . Almost all of the lions had left for the night, sans a few lower goons keeping watch over the gates. Sitting by the hideout’s make-shift home bar, nothing felt out of the ordinary.

He cradled the cheap whiskey in his hands and circled the drink slowly. He watched the drink as it created a mini whirlpool, his reflection on the glass.

His brows furrowed in confusion. Something was amiss. This isn’t right.

His tail moved back and forth, fur standing, mind on edge. Someone foreign was in the mansion. He continued to watch his reflection, but there was no sign of the intruder.

Too late did he realize, as a creature suddenly latched onto his leg. He would've kicked the stranger out of instinct, but when he caught a glimpse of wide ears flinching, the smell of lion on him, all sense of dread died.

Looking down, he sees a fawn, toothily grinning at him, hugging his legs like they were pillows.

“What are you doing here little guy?” Hino crouches, hands folded so as to not hurt the tiny creature.

The fawn giggled, clutching his face in his mini hands. They’re warm, he noted. .

“Mr. Lion!!” He cackled.

And like a child calling for its mother, Ibuki came running up the stairs, his glasses out of place, strands of his mane flying everywhere. He looked like hell.

“Louis!” he called and bolted right after where he sat.

Such a strange sight to see. A huge lion cradling a fawn, no bigger than Ibuki’s hands. A smile found its way to Hino’s flawless features. It’s a beautiful Wednesday night.

---

Sabu

He’s getting old, he realizes. His mane is getting harder to grow, his joints more prone to aches. He wonders if growing old is a gift, with what dangers lurking in the Back Alley Market. You’re lucky if you still have all your limbs intact by the age of 30.

Sitting by the kitchen counter, he closes his eyes. Ah, well it’s not like he could complain. In fact, he’s lucky to be alive, limbs and all.

“Up!”

He cracks one eye open.

..What?

“Up! Up!” Standing there, a creature unlike him. A fawn. No older than 6 he thinks. Clutching what he assumes is a stuffed animal, a small pout laced its face.

He had so many questions.

“Up! Up!!!” The fawn demanded, now running around, making soft tap tap taps against the floors of the mansion.

How youthful, he thought, picking up the child, giggling as his arms wrap around its tiny waist.

“Funny lion man!” it cackles, now trying to climb his head, to touch his mane. He assumes his mohawk is a different sight from what the fawn usually sees.

He still has so many questions.

He let the fawn play with his mane, not minding the strands that now fall against his face, covering his eyes.

“Ibuki!!” the tiny fawn suddenly shrieked, hurriedly trying to climb down from his now lopsided mane. He watches the young fawn dash to the other, who caught him as he propelled himself in the air.

How youthful, he thought again.

---

Miguel

It’s not like he’s not used to the fearful looks most herbivores and even the lesser carnivores give him. He’s big, brawny, a lion through and through. A literal king of the beast. To say he was used to the wary stares, the jealous glares, is the simple truth.

His footsteps alone are enough to spook a sheep down to its very core. He need not speak to intimidate a room full of hyenas, no. Even baring his fangs would be too much.

Which is why he found this whole ordeal completely and utterly ridiculous.

A tiny fawn stood before him, staring up at him. Fearless, he thinks. No! He was awestruck… mouth agape and ears perked up. He looked at him like he’s something to behold.

“Big Lion Man!!!” it cackles.

Odd..

It was so odd.

He felt his heart swell beneath the hard muscle, beneath tendons, flesh and bones. Never before has a creature looked at him with such delight. From a herbivore no less.

---

Jinma and Dope

If there’s any duo more suited to work together in the Shishigumi, the title befalls on one Jinma and Dope. Another successful negotiation. Another night of festivities.

Tonight, the table was decorated with an assortment of meals, meat cooked to perfection. A flawless buffet. An impeccable occasion.

Until Jinma caught a glimpse of movement beneath the table covers. An intruder? A spy? That’s impossible. It just is. He knows no one would have balls big enough to go alone in the Shishigumi headquarters unscathed.

He eyed the table covers with great intensity. He squints, watching the creases of the fabric, waiting to see any sign of movement. Nothing. Not until a foreign tiny hand slipped under the covers to grab a lone piece of meat sat atop the table.

In an instant, he lifted the white sheet, uncovering the thief hidden below the covers. He expected a young lowly canine, or mayhaps a racoon, only to find a giggling fawn munching on the small piece of meat he’s stolen.

“The fuck..” he heard someone mutter behind him. Dope, he thinks.

“Hello!” The young deer greeted, mouth full of meat.

This is weird.

Jinma watches as the fawn finally moves to unveil himself out of the white sheets, walking towards Dolph, who picks him up like it was something he’d done before.

This is so weird.

The two lions watch with their heads tilted to the side. Confused, they see Dolph smile at the tiny fawn he was cradling, who was still chewing the meat he’d stolen.

“The fuck” Jinma mutters.

---

Agata

“What??” Agata squawked, hands balled into a fist. How could they do this? To a lion, barely the age of 16.

“I.. I can’t! I’m not sure how to?” he countered, looking anywhere but the scene before him.

A child, clinging to the cuffs of Ibuki’s suit jacket. A fawn, 9 or 10 years old- by the looks of it.

“Agata, it will only be for an hour or two,” Dolph explained.

Like that’s going to change anything.

“But! Dolph-san, why? We don’t even know who this kid is? I mean.. Why can’t we just give him back to his parents?” He blurted.. The words left his mouth before he could process what he had just said. He prayed to whichever gods listening to him to please not make him babysit a child- and a herbivore child too!

Ibuki furrows his brows, before sharing a look with Dolph, who looks as equally as upset. A beat, and then,

“Louis stays with the Shishigumi,” Ibuki stated, like it’s the most obvious thing.

“You can’t be serious!” Agata whined, his arms flailing. It was a fight he couldn’t win. He frowned.

It didn’t take Agata more than a second to realize that his outburst had caused Louis to hide more behind Ibuki, his teeth bared, eyes burning with passionate hate.

Ah... He really did not like babysitting.

[wincore]

youngblood | lee donghyuck

pairing: haechan x reader

words: 9.1k

genre: ‘bad boy’!au, fluff, angst(?)

warnings: language, juvenile crimes (do NOT try shoplifting, speeding and vandalism, kids)

a/n: okay omg i finally got around to editing this and you guys should know by now this au doesn’t mean he’s bad and just.........annoying........... (also it follows troublemaker’s style but like............it might just be my fav troublemaker part aaaa)

The first day you meet Lee Donghyuck, he picks a fight with you. Or you pick a fight with him.

That’s not how the first day of high school should have gone.

It surprised you, just a little, to be toe-to-toe with someone so easily. Did he like picking fights for fun? You looked him up and down, the ink over his forearm meant to be shown and a strange friendliness in his eyes. Not exactly the bully type, you weren’t sure what to make of him. Movies spoil reality when it comes to things like this. Rumors are even worse. You took a slow gulp anyway, Donghyuck’s eyes on you unnerving.

He leaned in slightly to match your height. His tone was lilting and he phrased his words light-heartedly, a pretence you found funny. “I have no interest in you, kid. I’m going to keep it that way.”

“We’re the same age, you know?”

Your reply went unheard. It was just misunderstanding that got you there—you mistook his locker for yours and it’s not your fault you happen to have the same passcode (a little weird though, definitely). Lee Donghyuck said if you were allowed to take what’s his, he should have the same privilege, the word thief at the tip of his tongue. He was a little daunting, you suppose—taller than you were, in all black and several piercings and tattoos poking out on wrists. Maybe it was the undulating rage of being fourteen and at the stage of heavy regret in later years, maybe it was the wariness around strangers. You weren’t quite afraid of him; just that a fight on your first day didn’t seem like a very bright start in a new city. Although you assured him you didn’t touch his stuff, you handed him your bear-shaped keychain. (“You can have this if you want a gift so bad.”)

When Donghyuck laughed, giving it back almost immediately with a cheeky grin—you couldn’t decide whether to let the confusion show on your face.

“Don’t be a pushover, newbie.”

You frowned. “Who’re you calling a pushover?”

You don’t remember the rest of it but you found it very hard to not have mixed feelings about him. You’re trying to have a normal fun high school life for fuck’s sake. You didn’t think he was the awful sort of person—but it was almost as if he was trouble’s very own lovechild. There are better weapons against him than falling into pointless playfights.

Lee Donghyuck. Funny guy.

The school bully image was a lie, no doubt spread by someone more than annoyed with his antics. Of course, Lee Donghyuck either didn’t care or didn’t know, wits always about him like some sort of eccentric defence mechanism.

You admire him in a way, but you wouldn’t be caught dead telling him that.

Lee Donghyuck is popular, full of jokes and fun but a little rough on the edges all the same. But you have to assume he must have some demonic heritage. You could say you have a strange relationship—friends but not. You hate him but don’t. While you’re sure there’s at least a little bit of sunshine hidden beneath those black T-shirts and inked skin, there’s a bit more than hidden sides to young troublemakers—things that don’t involve misunderstanding.

Lee Donghyuck looks like danger. (And danger attracts attention of all kinds, you’d noticed in a few unfortunate heart-eyed classmates.) You’ve seen him in enough fights to have respect for him, making you wonder why he doesn’t join the debate team already. It might have something to do with how his victorious smile gets on everyone’s nerves, the way they groan at Donghyuck’s sudden affections afterward. They don’t hate him—mostly. He’s honest and he knows exactly how to press people. That doesn’t change the innocence in his arrogance or the clear distinction of his spirit.

Of course there are bad people; Donghyuck just isn’t one of them. He just tries too hard to look cool. (“Sunflower,” he’d called you, pulling a face. “I know you’re dense. But maybe start being afraid of me so you don’t ruin my reputation.”)

The sunlight falls against the web of your thumb, your fingers rapidly moving to match the pace of the game on your phone. Five minutes to class, you’ve got nothing better to do.

“What, trying to beat my high score again?” Donghyuck pulls the chair beside you to sit, his arms resting on the desk as he continues to stare at you.

“Believe me, Donghyuck, not everything I do is for you,” you chuckle, tapping on the play again button, catching the look on his face out of the corner of your eye.

Donghyuck looks visibly irked and you think maybe your decision to be so annoyingly passive has been the right one if it bothers him. Ah, but you won’t tell him that. You’re having the time of your life this way.

“Well,” Donghyuck begins but frowns instead. “Whatever.”

It’s not every day you get to win—Donghyuck does get under your skin. You just don’t have to show it. Sometimes his own friends decide they’ve had enough, the classroom shenanigans making you laugh. You don’t want to get started on the chaos that unfurls every time Donghyuck walks into class and straight up picks a fight with anyone in his eyesight—even Jaemin has his “Lee Donghyuck!” moments. Donghyuck is friends with everyone and that means he gets to get on everyone’s nerves.

You smile to yourself thinking of Donghyuck yawning deliberately at Renjun trying to make a point. Call him a demon, call him a disgrace; he knows how to make people laugh.

You pass Red’s diner on your way back home, as usual, the unusual red and white checkers replacing the normal concrete sidewalk by it. It’s always soothed you to see bright colours in this side of the city, the beige and coffee aesthetic far too dominating for its cause—something to keep up with the larger, fancier (more pretentious) metropolises.  It’s also the oldest; your friends told you the number of baby pictures everyone has on the wine-coloured couches is, in more appropriate words, fucking astounding.

You wish you’d moved here earlier. The thing about little cities is just that—they’re not all that little. Something everyone seemingly loves to boast about, the romance of a small town and its delicate simplicities. It’s nothing alike. You’d know. You enjoy it more here. You like all the food outlets and stores lining the streets and further up, less congestion and more dog parks—all places you love breezing through in your free time. There’s an amusement park too, a forty-minute drive away into the middle of nowhere and if you’re not mistaken, the city centre has the best clubs and bars. Sunshine drips through every nook and cranny—it’s everything you’d expected a city to be.

You stop in your tracks at the sight of distinct brown curls in the alleyway between buildings. Donghyuck doesn’t seem to be in the best of situations, a tougher, much larger guy shoving him against the wall. They seem to be speaking, and something about Donghyuck’s smile doesn’t give you a good feeling about what’s going to happen.

Before the guy’s fist meets Donghyuck’s cheek, you yell, two pairs of eyes shifting focus to you. You feel your heartbeat quicken, Donghyuck raising his eyebrow and shooting you a confused look.

“Don’t- don’t hurt him,” you say, cursing at the meekness of your voice.

The larger man laughs, a sound like nails on a chalkboard and you cringe. Donghyuck mouths at you to get away but immediately shuts up when the man turns to him again.

“You got a little lover come here to protect you?” he says, looking at Donghyuck with amusement.

“No, that’s not—”

“I hate little brats like you,” he huffs, shoving Donghyuck once more, this time a little harder. He lets out a pained whine, eyes squeezing shut as he drops on his knees.

You take a hesitant step back when the man makes his way to you, blood rushing to your ears when he raises his hand. Your arms go up by instinct and you’re met with a hard push, falling to the ground with a whimper.

You’re picked up by the collar, struggling to not let fear show on your face.

“Tell your boyfriend to stop messing around my store, okay, sweetheart?” he threatens, voice lower.

With that, he drops you and leaves, the adrenaline in you not quite down yet.

“Donghyuck?” you call, worried as you spot him lying still in the alleyway. You’re about to get up and go to him when he responds, whimsical as ever.

“I’m okay!” He raises his hand with a peace sign and you sigh, annoyed.

“Really?! What were you even doing?”

“I ate some cookies for free, big deal,” he says before he suddenly raises his head with a lopsided grin. “Is sunflower worried about me?”

You groan, dusting yourself as you get up and walk over to him. You throw him a light kick at the side to which he whines overdramatically and scrunches his face into something pained. Lee Donghyuck could be hit by a bus and he’d play it off with fingers guns and eyebrow wiggling.

“Become a chainsaw-juggler or something if you want to do something dangerous,” you complain, “And get up!”

Donghyuck wrinkles his nose. “As always, you have such boring ideas.”

He does get up the next moment, although with a large show of holding his back and several whines about near-death experiences as if he’s not the one bringing it upon himself. You’re sure his back is bruised but he doesn’t acknowledge it as anything more than a joke. There’s also a gash on his cheek he must have received earlier. It’s no surprise he has a fresh batch of wounds—you think he spends more time in the nurse’s office than in actual classes.

“Why do you pick fights with people clearly stronger than you?” you grumble as he dusts himself off.

“Oh, don’t misunderstand me,” Donghyuck says, straightening, “I would’ve got out of this pretty clean without you.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure thing.”

Donghyuck frowns, a huff leaving his mouth.

“I don’t mean to brag but that guy would have been running for his life if you hadn’t butt in,” he shrugs, trying to sound less ruffled.

You laugh at his expression, forgetting about your bruised arms for a moment.

“You should treat me,” you say, the thought passing your head. You don’t have change and you’re really craving some strawberry milk.

He scoffs. “For what?”

“For saving you.”

You expected a retort, at least. Donghyuck pauses for a moment before a worrying grin floats up on his face. “Sure. Come with me.”

You narrow your eyes at him but follow nonetheless, walking side by side. The sunlight makes his skin glow, the hue on his cheeks perfect were it not for the dried blood from the gash. His eyes shine when he smiles, mischief or not, when he’s telling you about how you should try vandalism and robbery sometimes, they’re pretty fun. It’s a Donghyuck trait—to be able to live like this and still call it fun. You look at his lips once and immediately look away. What a silly thought. They’re regrettably pretty, though, despite being busted often. The sun has been kind to Donghyuck, with the colour of his skin full and the confidence you’d only find in someone made of sun flares.

So that’s why.

You stare at the motorbike parked at a clearly No Parking area, the metallic red gleaming under the late afternoon sun. You’ve never been on one before but something tells you Donghyuck would traumatise you far too much to try again. You cannot agree to get on that.

“Hop on,” he instructs.

You hesitate. “Where are we going?”

“To the centre, of course.” He smiles brightly. “There’s a bunch of bakeries and eateries over there.”

“You can just buy me some strawberry milk from a vending machine around.”

“Well, I forgot my wallet,” he says, looking up to think, “I left it at my job.”

You furrow your eyebrows, not believing a word. It’s Lee Donghyuck after all, the opposite of predictable, and arguing with him will only cost you your breath.

“A motorbike and no leather jacket?” You smile, regaining your composure. “I mean, not everyone can pull off the leather jacket, of course.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes overstatedly. “I don’t expect you to be smarter but stereotypes? Wow.”

You do get on the bike, however, with some pushing on Donghyuck’s side. More importantly, you somehow don’t end up traumatised despite what you supposed. It felt good, wind in your hair and although your legs were stuck to the sides of the bike like glue, you found yourself enjoying the scene around you speeding by. The fact that Donghyuck can be careful was beyond your knowledge and understanding.

The buildings are a little taller here and while you’ve been here before, the sight never fails to make your heartbeat quicken. There’s something inevitably calling about this place. You’d love to explore when there are nightlights around each corner.

“Your wallet?” you remind Donghyuck.

Donghyuck feigns surprise, gasping. “Right! It was in my pocket. But I have no money.”

“What? We came all the way here for nothing?!”

“No. I have a plan.” Donghyuck grins, pointing towards the pretty glass door of the bakery across the street.

“Oh no,” you say quietly as the realization dawns, “We’re not stealing.”

“Then you came all the way here for nothing.”

You sigh heavily into your hands as Donghyuck tries to sweeten his grin, clearly trying to convince you.

“You really don’t have to be this annoying, you know that?”

“It’s a choice,” he says, pulling a face, “And I do it because I excel at it, thank you very much.”

You reluctantly follow Donghyuck into the bakery, people bustling in and out, mostly for their fix of evening coffee or tea. There are photo frames around pictures of coffee beans, tea leaves and pastries, all against a soft orange wallpaper. It’s not as small as it looked from outside, you realize, with its capacity for people quite enough. The smell of chocolate is predominant, hazelnut and coffee wafting in from the left side.

“Free samples!” Donghyuck gasps, before turning to whisper to you, “You know we can try one of each, right? That saves us some trouble.”

You’d be lying if his lips so close to your ears didn’t make you jump a little. You take short steps behind him as he eagerly walks to the counter.

“Ah, is this a new type?” Donghyuck asks, beaming at the woman behind the counter. She raises an eyebrow at the ear piercings and tattoos, gracing him with a smile nonetheless.

While he’s engaged in conversation, you stare at the two of them confused till you’re met with a light kick at your foot. You give Donghyuck a dirty look, who keeps pointing towards the samples with his hands under the counter.

“You’re supposed to shove some into your bag, you know?” he leans in to whisper, exasperated, when the lady leaves to enter the pantry.

“Well, how was I supposed to know, genius?” you shoot back, crossing your arms.

Donghyuck looks around nervously before taking a few of the tarts and carefully placing them in your bag.

“Don’t move too much or you’ll crush them,” he warns in a hush.

The woman returns again, with a warmer smile and Donghyuck goes back to his clever, silver-tongued words. He’s so awful, you think. But you can’t deny the exhilaration in your chest, a giddy feeling of doing the wrong thing in a way that feels right.

You end up having the free samples afterward, pretending to contemplate buying as the woman looks at the two of you expectantly. It’s delicious, sweet chocolate manipulating your taste buds to want another bite almost immediately after you’re done.

“We do offer couple discounts, too!” she says, beaming.

There it is again, the unsettling implications—accusations almost. Since when do the two of you look like a couple? You’re obviously too young to be looking the sort of way most lovers do and where the fuck do they see any love anyway?

“Uh,” Donghyuck begins but can’t seem to form a sentence.

Before either of you can say anything, the woman is called by another customer and you look at each other at the same time.

“We should go,” he says, quickly, “before they realize we’re not buying anything.”

You nod and sneak out of the shop as quickly as you walked in, Donghyuck suddenly picking up the pace till you’re at least a few blocks away.

“You’re so slow,” Donghyuck teases, laughing when you reach him, out of breath. He adjusts his shirt, dark as always, such that it doesn’t stick out of his pants awkwardly anymore. The tattoos on his left arm catch your eye, muscles beneath flexing as his moves his arm, a strange pattern of ink. You don’t think they’re real if you’re being honest—that field of sunflowers. They’re too pretty.

You’re so annoying, you think, despite the smile forming on your face as you follow him down the lane.

What a frustrating personality, the thought crosses you at night, as you kick away the blanket at your feet. He ended up paying for some ice cream at a nearby shop anyway, right after you’d finished having your stolen goods by the dog park. He said summer needs some ice and he’ll oblige just this once with whatever few notes he has left. (“Summer just ended, idiot.” “I can’t hear you.”) The first bite had immediately given him brain freeze, a whine escaping his lips as he held his head in an attempt to soothe it. You found it cute—yes, cute, a terrible choice of words for him. It doesn’t mean anything, you tell yourself. It’s almost within his personality to intrude upon your thoughts like this—gods, you hate even the letters of his name that form so easily in front of your eyes.

The buzz from your phone gives you a fright as you quickly open it to two texts from Donghyuck. You adjust the brightness before you read it, your heartbeat embarrassing you at its rate.

demon child, 11:36 PM

btw today wasn’t a treat you still have to pay me

food is expensive you know

You smile. A part of you warns you shouldn’t.

demon child, 11:37 PM

or you can pay for next time

Your smile drops. Next time? What is this, a date? You shake your head instinctively. Like you’d make it out alive of a date with Lee Donghyuck.

you, 11:37 PM

sure thing little stingy man

demon child, 11:38 PM

wow that was fast do you like me or something

You roll your eyes. You might have really decked Donghyuck in the jaw in another timeline, where you knew how to deck someone in the jaw.

You feel a certain static in your heart, hoping you’re mistaken as you respond to his texts for the rest of the night. Lee Donghyuck needs to have the last word all the time, and you lose count of how many times you huff, only giving in when the tiredness in your eyes seeps to the rest of your body.

You think you smile in your sleep that night but you can’t be sure.

The thing about bad days is that you notice nothing outside of them when you’re having them—but you forget you ever even had them when you’re not.

You end up at school with a lack of will to pay attention to classes. It’s well into the semester, and that means it’s time for you to get to some serious studying, except, well, you can’t. You’re decent at academics—or so you’d like to think. You’re average at best and there’s a nagging thought eating away at your brain at a painfully slow rate.

The college application deadlines are near.

It doesn’t help to be second and third best at almost everything. You nod along to everything Jihyun is saying; really, he aces every subject without trying. His words aren’t exactly…encouraging. You thought his notes would be your ticket to a dream college except he’s not quite the person you should be asking help from.

You’re suddenly not sure about all the friendly competitions you’re running.

You’re starting to feel too worked up these days, worry tugging at the back of your head every moment. It’s lonely when your friends are busy with their own struggles so you stay quiet. You’re a big kid, you tell yourself, you got this.

Except you really don’t.

“Woah,” Donghyuck interrupts you and Jihyun. “You look like you used the dryer on the wrong setting.”

Sometimes, it’s really not the best of situations to have your seat beside Donghyuck. You glare at him, keeping your notebook on the table with a loud ‘SLAM!’ You turn your head to find him smiling. Oh, he better not start now.

“Ah, (name),” he says, grinning, “what’s got you so upset today?”

“Nothing,” you insist, trying your best to control your scowl.

It’s been two weeks since you ‘hung out’ (committed minor crimes) at the bakery. Your friendly bickering since then has been not-so-friendly, you think with a grimace. He’s been getting under your skin—not a favourable thing when you’re against Lee Donghyuck.

“(name).”

You look up to see Jihyun, almost always devoid of any emotion behind the eyes—even if he’s smiling.

“The notes you asked for,” he says, keeping the notes on your table and turning around, almost as if he’s glad to be rid of conversation.

“Oh, and,” Jihyun turns back around. “If you’re hoping to get into any college at all, I hope you keep the right company.”

There’s contempt in his voice and your eyes trail to Donghyuck’s, a little confused if not bothered. You shouldn’t be surprised to find him grinning, laughing almost. You think Donghyuck’s confidence is a good substitute for a leather jacket.

“Hey, come on now.” Donghyuck leans back in his seat, smiling like a kid. You wonder where all that sunshine’s coming from. “Are you still mad about me beating you at that MUN thing?”

Jihyun smiles. “Don’t jump to conclusions. I wasn’t referring to you, of course. And there’s worse things you’ve done.”

Your teacher walks in, drawing everyone’s attention instead as they scurry back to their seats. Donghyuck’s eyes linger on you for a second longer, his face blanched before he turns away and rests his chin on his palm. You think you weren’t supposed to steal so many glances at him throughout the class.

The day somehow manages to draw energy out of you even further. Worries aside, Jihyun’s been strangely demanding—are you even that close? Should he be asking you to bring things this way? Should he be making you run errands? You’re so close to losing it before you realize you can’t. He’s helping you, sort of. You groan into your hands during break, ignoring Donghyuck’s eyebrow raise from beside you. It’s unfair and while you’re sure it’s all light-hearted, you have another name to curse when you run into a problem. Ah, the scorn of high school kids is truly incomparable.

You almost sigh in relief at the last ring of the bell for the day, getting up a little too enthusiastically. You get some admonishment from the teacher at that but you forget once you’ve reached the gates, almost running out faster than your friends. They let you go with a laugh, your desire to get home and take a nap triumphing every other thing on your mind. Some days are meant to be forgotten.

Cursed as you are, you bump into Donghyuck a few blocks from the bus stop. He adjusts the collar of his plaid shirt in a hurry, the black T-shirt underneath so worn out, you wonder how many years he’s been wearing that. The symbol on his baseball cap is probably related to a demon cult, you think. It being related to a metal band is also a possibility.

“(name),” he says, grinning. “What a coincidence.”

“Don’t pick a fight now, demon,” you huff before he can continue.

“I didn’t even say anything.” He raises his arms defensively. “Yet.”

You have the intense desire to punch him. When did the tables turn to this? Weren’t you supposed to be the calm one?

“You had fun running errands for President Snob?” he snickers.

“Well, I didn’t want to,” you say, your shoulders dropping, annoyed as you are. It makes you a little upset for something to affect you that much. You wish you were like the kids who barely cared about things like college applications, enjoying life either way. You wish you didn’t have this strange pretence of a person you are. You wish you were like Donghyuck.

There’s a pause.

“Come on. Don’t let anyone push you around like that.”  His voice comes off as exasperated. Donghyuck isn’t the kind of person to let worry show.

You look up, a little surprised. Before you can open your mouth, he cuts you off.

“There’s some festival going on at the centre,” he says with a shrug. “Lots of food trucks. Wanna come?”

You furrow your eyebrows, a frown taking shape over your lips.

“Stealing off others doesn’t exactly make me feel good about myself,” you say, hugging yourself. As fun as the adrenaline rush was, it’s better to stick to morals, whatever they may be.

“I’ll pay,” he says, his smile incredulous. “I promise.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What, you got a credit card lying around somewhere?”

“Nope,” he responds, rolling his eyes. “No credit card. Don’t believe in money.”

“Then how do you plan on paying?” you ask, frustrated.

“Trust me,” he whispers, urging you to follow him.

It turns out Donghyuck happens to know every food outlet in the city and also happens to have been kicked out of half of them, which is oddly impressive. He’s also worked several jobs in local eateries, the old ladies more than fond of him. (“Who wouldn’t find my charming smile adorable?”)

“You hobgoblin,” you exclaim, huffing. His story about vandalism on the bleachers shouldn’t have been as amusing, or endearing, for that matter.

“According to our lovely folklore, hobgoblins can warm your heart,” he replies, as-a-matter-of-factly.

“That is definitely not true. You just have to respond with something, don’t you?”

“And what of it?”

A (surprisingly) within-speed-limits bike ride away, you end up in a flurry of colours and crowds—you gasp at the large line of food trucks lining the pathway leading to the people’s square. You’ve never seen this before, looking from place to place. A lot of them look like they’ve come from pretty far.

At the square, there are wooden stalls of food out for trial by the people, shopkeepers encouraging the few tourists there are to try the local food. You spot various fishcakes, dumplings and street toast with glimpses of strawberry and banana milk decorating the stands in between. There are old upbeat songs playing through the speakers attached to the electricity poles, faint enough to be drowned out by crowds but loud enough to enjoy a little dance to. You didn’t realize you were smiling till you turned around to see an amused look on Donghyuck’s face.

Time only seems to fly—like when you’re done with your favourite song and it just wasn’t long enough so you hit repeat. The truth is, a song is barely four minutes—and yet you feel like you saw a movie, a story in it; so very curious because you were so sure it was too short.

Donghyuck walks side by side with you to where his bike is parked. (You wonder if he ever travels without it. Gas isn’t exactly cheap.) There’s little distance between the two of you, something neither of you seems to notice. You bite into the sugar candy, the sudden crack sound in the quiet lane making the two of you laugh despite the surge of sugar on your tongue. You forget what you were talking about.

“Why do you even steal, Donghyuck?” You ask softly. You paid for some food today, some were free samples and mostly, there was nothing illegal involved. Donghyuck didn’t particularly want to cause trouble either. You don’t want to be a bad judge of character.

“Because I can.”

What an expected answer. Is there anything Donghyuck can’t do?

“Don’t you feel bad?” You raise an eyebrow. He’s always been so confusing, but when he starts to make sense, you feel like you should’ve seen it that way in the first place.

“Are you talking about our sweet bakery? You really think a company as big as theirs would notice some free samples are missing?” Donghyuck says, making a face. “In a city no one cares about?”

You don’t say anything, puffing your left cheek in contemplation.

“Look, I could spend the rest of my life looting as much as my arms could carry and I would never be able to make my crimes pose even the smallest threat to a single shitty millionaire.” Donghyuck waves his hands about in a gesture that implies indifference.

You suppose he’s right, walking up to him and continuing your journey up.

“I’m not justifying myself,” he says, voice softer, shoulders relaxed. “Stealing’s bad. Other people are affected. I know. It’s just that I like having more choices than they give us. We should try everything we can, you know?”

Is that why he’s always up to something? Flitting from club to club in school, running around the entire city like it’s his own?

He shakes himself immediately, cringing. “Ah. Ew. I can’t believe you’re getting to my head, sunflower. Yuck. You’re ruining me. Did I just monologue?”

“Oh, okay.” You cross your arms. “That’s my fault now. It’s a good thing to be honest, asshole.”

“La, la, la.” Donghyuck puts his fingers in his ears, sticking out his tongue. “Can’t lecture me if I can’t hear you.”

You punch his shoulders, his laugh accompanying the evening blooming in full colours above you as you forget you’re already on your journey back.

You reach Red’s before nightfall, a sort of pitstop for kids like you when it’s time to go home before the night soaks into you. Donghyuck feels lighter in his chest as he enters, the jingling pleasant and the smell of waffles even more so. He just can’t believe you’re the reason he’s here.

“Obviously, we’re going for chocolate waffles,” he says, crossing his arms.

The tables outside are better than the stuffy humid air inside. Donghyuck’s complaining didn’t let you take even a step inside.

“We just ate,” you reason, your eyebrows furrowed. “And honey is always better!”

“Eh, what do you know?” he says, resting his elbow against the table. “I was raised in this diner, newbie.”

“Yeah, you and a million other rats.”

He presses his tongue against his cheek to stop the smile, although he reckons he’s doing a terrible job of it.

Get yourself together, one voice pipes up in his head.

Or say it. Ask them out. Yeah, the other voice is a piece of shit. That’s not going to work out.

Donghyuck didn’t realize he’d fallen silent, a daze over his eyes. He blinks a few time to regain focus, the peach hue across your cheeks coming to his attention. It’s adorable, if he could just reach out and place his palm against your cheek, just lean over the table and—

Fuck. No way.

“Stop staring at me like some sleaze,” you huff, eyes flickering between him and the table.

“Why would I stare at you?” he retorts, resisting the heat on his face. “You’re not that pretty.”

“Right,” you say, rolling your eyes as you hold your arm.

The lights lining the eaves flicker on almost at the same time, the sky still in transitionary lilac and you look up with your lips parted, something akin to curiosity in your eyes. Pretty. It could just be the reflection of the lights though—Donghyuck’s not exactly the poetic type. He wants to curl his lips at the notion, but it’s not very smart to have all his thoughts show up on his face.

“Can we stay here a little longer?” you say, eyes still on the lights, occasionally shifting to the sky.

“Your parents will worry.” Donghyuck thinks for a moment before mumbling, “It’s not safe.”

“Then drop me home,” you say, your eyes shifting to meet his, an unusual confidence in them.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the skip of his heartbeat.

Donghyuck thinks he should pat himself on the back for not speeding all the times you were with him on his bike. He loves the thing to death, although he’s had it for barely a year. The jolt of adrenaline and the freedom blooming in sprouts within his ribcage should be a dead giveaway to what he feels about speeding. Donghyuck’s never really cared about rules. Break them, bend them—it’s up to him and he loves that feeling of control. Whatever people think of him, they’re nowhere close to the truth. They’ll never know just how much he has everything under control.

Except you.

How annoying, he thinks to himself as he feels the speed picking up and your distant warmth behind him. He feels a little tingle in his chest, the way he always does when he gets the urge to do something reckless.

What if he were to speed up just a little? No, that would be childish. He should definitely not do that.

You wrap your arms around his waist with a squeak at the sudden jerk as he revs up the bike, a grin growing on his face despite his attempts to hold it back. You’re warm, compared to the sharp winds grazing him and he wants you to hold onto him like this a little longer. If he’s not childish now, when else will he be?

You hadn’t realized you’d fallen asleep, faint sunlight hiding behind the curtains ready to present the evening to you. A celebratory nap for the end of the deadlines that’s been haunting you overextended a little bit more than you’d anticipated. Just a few more weeks and it’s the finals and then, it’s all over. You stretch your hand out to switch on the lights, groaning when you can’t seem to reach it and reluctantly getting up.

You startle, a little yelp leaving your mouth at the knock on your window. What in hell? Either you haven’t slept enough or you slept too much.

You let out another yelp when you see Donghyuck’s face. There’s a band-aid over the line of his jaw starting to peel off and another one over the bridge of his nose. His hair looks recently washed, underneath the cap he’s wearing the right way for once, a pleasant smell wafting off him. You wonder what the occasion is for him to have cleaned up like this.

“Did you just climb up to my window?!”

There’s a pause.

“Yes.”

There’s another pause.

“Anyway,” he continues, “Since you’ve been enjoying my premium Haechan recommendations lately, I’ve got another plan for you.”

“Haechan?” You tilt your head. “Full sun? Is that why you call me sunflower?”

Donghyuck’s cheeks colour. “That’s- That’s not- We’re going to the club today!”

You find the sudden fluctuation in his voice cute. You suppress your smile, before giving in to his constant nagging for you to hurry up and follow him. (“Why would I get out through the window?” “Won’t your parents, like, kill me if they saw me at your front door?”)

There’s no bike today. In a way, you’re sad it isn’t there; the memory of your arms around Donghyuck making you feel hot in the cheeks for wanting it again.

“I finished my budget for fuel because of you,” he complains.

“No one asked you to be a show-off,” you retort.

He opens his mouth but says nothing, resorting to pull a face at you instead. Public transportation it is today. Even if there’s, what, nine subway stations in the city, Donghyuck seems to have already planned out the route. He walks with a bounce to his steps, turning around to walk backward facing you just to laugh and call you slow.

You run up the stairs to the station, another evening beginning something yet anew. The clouds disappear, replaced with the tiles of the station roof as Donghyuck eyes something in the distance.

“Oh no,” you say, your gaze traveling to wherever his is fixed. “We’re paying for the tickets. Hell, I’ll pay.”

Donghyuck grins at you and before he can make the stupid decision of jumping over the faregate, you grab the back of his collar, a choked sound leaving his mouth. You pull him by the sleeves of his hoodie to the ticket machines, relatively empty when the old folk use the ticket booths instead.

“You’ll go to jail if you murder me,” Donghyuck says, whining as he massages his neck. “It’s not pleasant, let me tell you that.”

“You’ve been?”

“Not yet.”

The club Donghyuck was talking about turns out to be more of a music joint, really. The letters ‘No Smoking’ spelled clearly beside the entrance, you eye the guard nervously. A rather skinny man who seems to be in his early twenties, you wonder how Donghyuck knows him as he lets the two of you in. You don’t have time to ask as you’re pulled in, a gasp barely leaving your mouth at the force.

It’s different inside. It’s not as dark as you’d expect, a rather mellow set of colours spread through the place. There’s a band playing songs from the 80s, the sound of indie rock pulsing through the place. Some people are dancing, some sitting at the round tables, looking as if they’re waiting for someone or, at the very least, a pretty stranger.  

You look up at Donghyuck, a hum on his lips as he thinks.

“The song’s so boring,” he says finally. “Let’s change it.”

“It’s a live band, Donghyuck.” You deadpan. “You can’t press next here.”

“It’s called requesting, stupid.”

Donghyuck runs off before you can say anything, suddenly awkward about standing alone in a room full of people. You look around—the amount of people isn’t too much but at the same time it’s much more than you see in your average crowded room. Most of them are sitting, now that you see clearly, some with ramen on the tables, some with beer and chicken. There’s a bar at the other edge, people joking with each other over drinks.

You’re not sure how you’d describe it but it smells like people in here.

You look around further, curiously, at the beige wallpaper and vines decorating the edges—it’s larger than you thought a club would be. (But really, the only images you have are of purple and blue lighting on giant drunk crowds when you think of clubs.)

“Hey, pretty.”

You startle at the voice, an older man standing beside you. He seems to be a little old for a college kid, a rather impish look on his face with a very prominent grin.

“Uh, hi,” you say, unsure.

“You don’t come here often, do you?” He leans his left side against the wall.

“No, not really.” You’re a minor. Technically, you’re not even allowed in here.

Your nervousness seems to have shown up on your face because the guy straightens, a little smile on his face.

“Woah, don’t look so worried.” He laughs a little. There’s a scent of alcohol in his breath. “Will a friendly handshake make you feel better?”

You look on, a little unsure but definitely surprised. You go along with what he says, the movement of your hands in the childish pattern bringing a smile to your face till eventually, you’re laughing.

“I don’t mean to be too forward,” he says, “But you’re, like, a kid, right?”

You straighten, stammering out words of denial. You don’t want to be kicked out. You’ve never been kicked out of anything before.

“And that’s your boyfriend right there?” He asks, pointing over to Donghyuck having a conversation with the bass guitarist.

You think you turn pink, but you shake your head vehemently.

“Well, don’t worry, kid,” he says, laughing. “Enjoy it while you can. Not everyone gets to have a partner in crime.”

With that, he walks off to the bar after a wave of goodbye and a smile, making you wonder if adults really are the same as you. You smile a little to yourself.

You yelp when you’re grabbed by the arm, Donghyuck’s own arm linking through it.

“I’m gonna teach you how to dance,” he says, grinning. “Be prepared to thank me.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him and right when you open your mouth the next song starts with a drum solo. You look at the band, confused. They’re all grinning, however, and soon the song steadies into an upbeat sort of mood. You think you smile, but it’s probably just in the eyes.

“Eyes on me, loser,” Donghyuck says, smiling wide at you.

You turn back to him, an indescribable amount of emotions surging into you. Lee Donghyuck is a phenomenon of a person, you think, almost ready to voice it out loud.

More people join in with the dancing, the place seeming much fuller now that you see everyone up. You catch the man from earlier throwing you a wink and a finger gun in a friendly gesture. You laugh in response, Donghyuck complaining about your lack of focus. (If you’re being honest, you think he meant your lack of attention to him.)

You can’t count the minutes or hours—what’s the difference, really? Donghyuck smiles through his eyes, telling you you’re a terrible dancer (and that, of course, not everyone is born perfect like him). You learn to love the unknown songs, each note catching on to a new piece of your heart as Donghyuck shows you a move to copy, singing along gibberish lyrics to the songs he doesn’t know. It’s weird how you can mould into songs like this, songs you don’t even know—their beats pulling out different people and melodies making that person familiar.

There’s a soft halt when Donghyuck catches something through the corner of his eyes. He makes a face that spells out ‘yikes’ before leading you off the dance floor, snaking through the crowds till you’re back to the entrance.

“What’s wrong?” You say, eyes scanning his face.

“Oh, nothing, really,” he says, an unsure lilt to his voice.

Your question answers itself at the gruff voice barely audible over the music, a notch louder than when you’d entered.

“Hey, kid!”

Your heart jumps against your ribcage at the uniform of a police officer by the entrance, thinking whether everything really had to go wrong right now. Is underage dancing a crime? You didn’t drink and—oh, the entrance probably said 19+.

Donghyuck’s eyes flit from place to place looking for an escape when the officer confronts him, grabbing him by the shoulder.

“You’re the kid that’s been stealing around the shops, aren’t you?”

“Uh, no?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow, the expression on his face almost comedic. “You’ve got the wrong kid, officer.”

“And what might you be doing in a club? Where’s your ID?”

“About that…”

Donghyuck pushes the man with his elbow, leg extending to trip him, catching him off guard. You’d even be impressed if the loud crash didn’t make you yelp in surprise, looking at the two of them with terrified incredulity.

Donghyuck takes off running almost immediately after before backtracking and gesturing at you exasperatedly. “You know you’re supposed to run when I run, right?”

“What the fuck just happe—”

Donghyuck doesn’t wait to explain, gripping your hand in his and tugging you to match his insane pace as you exit through the entrance.

It takes a while to reach the subway station even at that speed and with the distant shouts of the police officer prompting you to move faster. The sky’s much darker now—you think it must be well into late evening before night gets ready to clutch the time. Donghyuck moves with careful calculation, taking turns in places you have no clue about and soon you’re running up the stairs with your breath barely caught in your throat.

The station lights are dim but you’re good as long as you don’t trip over something. You turn to the ticket machine in panic when you hear the officer’s voice by the gates.

“No time!” Donghyuck pulls you away, effortlessly jumping over the faregate and looking at you expectantly.

“I can’t do that, Donghyuck!” you complain, panic rising in your chest, adrenaline drowning the rest of it.

Before you can say anything more, Donghyuck reaches over the gate, pulling you up by the waist and grabbing your hand all over again to run down the stairs to the tunnels.

“Hey!”

You hear the shout of the lady behind the ticket counter, clearly having seen your misconduct as you pray for her to forget your face. You’d like to be able to use the subway for future travel.

The train’s about to shut its door when you reach. Donghyuck treads quickly on the stone before he jumps on, pulling you in just in time to avoid getting caught in between the sliding doors.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of heavy breathing and the movement of the train on its tracks, the burning in your throat drowning out other senses. You slide down to crouch on the floor, your face hot and sweat drenching your forehead and neck. Your shoelaces are undone, you notice, no energy left in you to reach out and tie them into your perfect knots.

There’s a few moments of silence as you regain your composure.

“What was that?!” You laugh, unable to control yourself as you clutch your stomach. “You almost got arrested!”

He joins in with his sunny laughter, crouching down beside you. “Man, I really thought I was done for.”

After a few moments, Donghyuck sits with his legs crossed atop the passenger seat, the coach mostly empty save for you and an old couple at the far corner. He animatedly recalls a story of another near-arrest he had, with you laughing beside him.

A thought passes you in between jokes and stories—what if everything was like this always? Just the two of you, in a room full of people, in a room without people. You think you’ve started looking at Donghyuck a bit too much. You’re not sure about regretting it.

Donghyuck’s been getting the strangest of impulses these days.

He tilts his head away from you to check the time on his watch, the gentle weight of your head on his shoulder reassuring, even if it’s hard to admit. It’s half-past ten and he’s been staring at you for a little over an hour now. Who falls asleep in the subway? Sure, there being not many stops, the journey between each is longer but Donghyuck wouldn’t be caught dead drooling on someone’s shoulder like this.

You shift, Donghyuck immediately moving to cradle your head with his hand so it just doesn’t drop off. Your lips are puffed even in sleep as if you’re still caught in an argument with him. He chuckles to himself. It’s so like you.

Cross the line. The voice in his head says. Just dip your head a little and…

Your head leans into the skin between his neck and shoulder, a shot of electricity pulsing through him at the contact. There’s a race of thoughts within him, thoughts he shouldn’t be having.

What is he so afraid of, really? What is he, Lee Donghyuck, so afraid of? Love? That’s the lamest thing he can think of.

It’s true, though.

Fucking voice of his conscience—loud thoughts are more a pain in the ass than anything else. Donghyuck will resort to cowardice if it be so. He’s not going to be reduced to something he’s not just because he’s head over heels in his own feelings for you.

Donghyuck pushes the hair from your face, craning his neck to be able to see you better. Wanting to love, wanting to be loved—what a stupid thing to fear. He sighs, closing his own eyes and checking the time once again. He’ll wake you up in a few minutes when your station’s near.

You stop at the medicine to store to buy antiseptic cream and some band-aids. Donghyuck says he doesn’t need it, he has some at home but you must be good at convincing. There’s a little garden of scratches on his palm even he’s not sure when he received.

You sit in the empty parking lot, under the only streetlight that seems to be working in the area. The convenience store beside you is there to provide its twenty-four-hour lights if not anything else. There are some people out on nightly walks, you notice when you look at the sidewalk. It surprises you a little to see shapes of people against midnight blue.

You’ve never been out so late. You text your mom to remind her you’re still alive before you can turn your attention to Donghyuck.

“Okay! Enough!” He retreats his hand, complaining. “My hand smells like a pharmacy at this point.”

You lean back against the streetlamp, sighing.

“I can’t believe we ran away from a police officer,” you say, a goofy smile on your face as you stretch your arms in front of you.

“There’s always a first.” Donghyuck grin. “You don’t have to thank me for that, by the way.”

You roll your eyes. “One of these days, you’ll regret it. How long do you plan on being reckless?”

“How long do you plan on pretending you don’t enjoy it?” He asks, face leaning in with a sly smile.

You think you feel heat on your cheeks, you can’t be sure, but you end up scoffing, a rather losing response to someone who’s used to winning.

“You’re clearly into my devilishly handsome face,” he continues with an exaggerated shake of his head. “Does my recklessness turn you on? Don’t you think I look good? You can’t blame m—”

This brat.

You yank him by the cloth of his hoodie to get face to face, noses almost touching. Watching the confidence drain from his face, you’d laugh but it’d just give away the sudden adoration you feel. What a shame this demon was blessed to be so cute.

There’s a pause the length of a breath.

Donghyuck’s eyelids flutter close just as he presses his lips against yours, a soft sound escaping yours. He places a hand against your cheek as nimbly as possible, something pushing him to deepen what you have. You give in, humming into the kiss as you pull yourself closer.

For all the havoc he wreaks, Donghyuck isn’t necessarily a bad kisser. His lips are soft—his investment in lip balms improved since you first met him and the scent of whatever he used is delicious.

It’s a few moments of kissing when Donghyuck suddenly pulls back.

“I don’t deserve this,” he says, eyes flickering.

You look on, unsure. It’s not like him to falter. “What- What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he responds, looking at his hands, “that I’m really not good enough. I’m just- I’m not who people think I am. Hell, I don’t know who I am. It’s just- I don’t-”

You place your hand against his cheek, his rambling fading away as he looks into you.

“Even if you like me because you think I’m fun,” he continues, “I mess things up, you know? I mess things up really bad. If you get hurt- If- Ah, I don’t know what to say.”

“I really like you, Donghyuck,” you whisper, “but you’re making no sense right now.”

There’s a pause within the night air.

“I…I put a kid in the hospital,” he says, voice low and upset. “In middle school. I- I didn’t mean to! I can’t remember what happened but…we had to pay the bills and- and we’re still recovering.”

There’s a stifling silence. You lift his chin up so he faces you, the inability to see his expression troubling.

“I still feel guilty,” he whispers. “I do things for fun. And I fuck up the consequences.”

Donghyuck’s calculating and careful. You already know that.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, not finding any better words. “We’re big kids now.”

“But that doesn’t mean—”

“I’m not saying anything like that,” you interrupt. “We’ll still fuck up, you know? Adults fuck up. Doesn’t mean we don’t do things at all.”

“God, I hate you lecturing me,” he groans, looking away.

You crack a smile, still holding his face, the side without the band-aid. Donghyuck doesn’t say you’re right, a short chuckle on his lips instead before he leans in to peck you on the mouth, slowly turning into another kiss.

You think you hear the buzz of fireflies, spring’s darlings, although you didn’t know they’d be found here. Donghyuck looks pretty under the streetlight, as you connect mole to mole, an airy feeling in your chest, almost bubbling over.

You want to tell him he’s amazing, but you figure you’d tend to his ego some other day.

“Hey, you got that leather jacket!” you exclaim when you walk into class, Donghyuck’s head in Renjun’s chokehold.

He’s quick to defend himself, shaking Renjun off him and scoffing. “I didn’t get it because you said so, obviously.”

You shake your head with a laugh, sitting at your place. Donghyuck smiles to himself before dropping it to shoot some comments at Renjun.

“Nothing going on with our precious demon there?”

You look up to see Jaemin smiling at you, clearly onto something. You haven’t told anyone yet, every rendezvous a ridiculously honest secret.

You turn your head to see Donghyuck consuming a bag of hot Cheetos in what seems to be a competition with Zhong Chenle. You shake your head, furrowing your eyebrows at the scene. What’s even going on in their heads? If anything at all, that is.

Jaemin clears his throat, bringing your attention back to him. He has some sort of expectation in his eyes.

You laugh, more than enough to answer him. Really, being fond of Lee Donghyuck shouldn’t feel so much a crime as the city lights in his eyes do.