#also love reader in this

[shouyuus]

18+, vi-shaped brainrot, mdni

consider college roommate!vi who is the star of the rugby team and just such a fucking jock about it, spends hours at the gym, has pre and post workout drinks and never closes her door when she's blasting rock music, leaves pink hair dye on the bathroom counter, stains the tub when she gets drunk and tries to redo her roots, calls you everything but your name -- sweetcheeks, dollface, cupcake, princess -- isn't shy about her hookups, doesn't even bother to apologize the mornings after another pretty cheerleader scampers out of her room, shrugs and winks when you come out of the bathroom with a tiny thong dangling off your finger that's clearly not either of yours.

college roommate!vi who does kickboxing on the weekends and teaches a kid's course at the local gym. the first time you go there to drop something of her's off as a favor, you can't help but stare at the way she laughs and chases the kids around, so gentle with her movements, so careful, guiding their punches, correcting their forms. and the kids love her -- it's so easy to see, the stars in their eyes, the color high in their cheeks, the way the girls cluster around her legs and the boys are constantly vying for her approval, how she tries her best to divide up her attention equally between all of them.

college roommate!vi who goes real quiet the first time you laugh in her presence, a real laugh, not one of those ha-ha ones you snipe at her when she's trying to get a rise out of you, or teasing you about spending all your time in the library, but one that shakes your shoulders and makes your whole face light up. who has to blink when you cock your head and ask if she's okay bc she was so busy staring at you, wondering about the weird thumping in her chest, the tightness in her throat.

college roommate!vi who's there for you when you're stressed about your dissertation, and she knew you were smart, but listening to you rant about it at 3am in the morning, she's starting to realize that... you're kind of a genius. to be so young and already doing a doctorate in mechanical engineering, and the things you're trying to do -- they could conceivably change the world one day. who freezes when you let your head drop onto her shoulder with a heavy sigh, telling her that you don't know what to do.

"you'll figure it out, cupcake. with a brain like yours? you always do."

college roommate!vi who realizes way too late that she's kinda got it bad for you, bc since when did she start getting used to the sight of you wearing one of her gym shirts in the mornings, making scrambled eggs, rolling your eyes when she yawns her way into the tiny kitchen, leaning an arm against the fridge as she looks you over before asking what's for breakfast. who's gotten so used to falling asleep to the soft clatter of your computer keys that when you leave to visit your family for a weekend, she tosses and turns and can't figure out why it's impossible for her to get to sleep, wanders into sliver of space you guys have crammed a couch and tv into to call a living room, slumping down there to stare at the ceiling, only to feel her fingers graze against something on the ground, who tugs out the thing from under the couch only to find herself staring at one of your bunched up socks with the goofy cartoon cats pattern, and she remembers (suddenly) finding you tearing your room apart the week before trying to look for it because it's your favorite pair of socks.

she finds herself chuckling, letting the sock fall again, but the tightness in her throat doesn't recede, and invisible fingers clench in her gut as she lets her eyes fall shut.

"well... fuck."

college roommate!vi who doesn't know how to act when you get back from your weekend away, when you throw yourself into her arms, your skin still smelling of the crisp fall air and something warm, and spicy -- it reminds her of the holiday market you dragged her to last year, the cinnamon and spiced apples, the hot, mulled wine, the way it burned all the way down when she took the first sip, the way it worked the most darling flush into your cheeks above your pink knit scarf.

"i've got a present for you!" you say, when you finally extricate yourself from her gasp, your arms still around her shoulders, her hands still settled around your waist.

"y-yeah? you didn't have to do that, sweetcheeks --"

"yeah, but i saw this in a store window and -- well i just... it reminded me of you," you say, pulling back to dig something out of your travel bag, and it takes everything in vi not to tug you back into her chest. so instead, she settles for knitting her arms across her front and coughing to hide the fact that her throat's just tightened over itself at your words. you? seeing something and thinking of her? gods, she was so far gone.

"here," you say, pulling a small black box out and offering it to her on the palm of your hand.

vi stares, before reaching out to take it, her eyes flickering up towards your face, only to catch you chewing on your bottom lip in a way that makes her mind frizzle out at the edges. she refocuses her attention on the box -- opening it, she finds a tiny little gemstone, set on a thin golden chain --

"oh..." she breathes, tugging out up to let the gem dangle from between her fingers.

"it -- it's an alexandrite stone," you say, your voice a bit reedy, but you push on as vi continues to stare, "it's uhm -- one of the rarest gemstones in nature, but the cool thing is it changes colors depending on what kind of light it's under --" you reach up to grasp her wrist, her lungs seizing at the contact as you tug her into the incandescent light of the kitchen. "see? it was light blue a second ago, right? and now it's --"

"violet," vi says, her voice soft and disbelieving.

you quickly let go of her wrist, pursing your lips and wrapping your arms around yourself, looking anywhere but at her face.

"yeah -- i just --" your shoulders shrug up as she stares at you, her sky-light eyes wide, "it... it reminded me of... you."

college roommate!vi who, ever since the "necklace incident" (as the rest of the rugby team likes to call it), hasn't really been the same. she's put on the necklace and not taken it off for even a second since the day you gave it to her, but now she doesn't really know how to act around you -- bc did you actually like her? i mean, the necklace is... a pretty big thing to just give someone, but what if you were just giving it to her as a friend? as a roommate? she agonizes over it to the point that the rest of the team are so, so sick of hearing about it, they lovingly tell her to just fuck her and get it over with already. but vi insists that she can't -- it's different with you.

college roommate!vi who's stunned speechless when she gets home to find you staring at your computer, your expression blank. and at first, she thinks something's horribly wrong, but then you're slamming into her, squealing about how you've done it -- your thesis defense went well, that you're a doctor now -- and she's picking you up, spinning you around, buoyed up by the effervescence of your happiness, pressing a kiss to your cheek --

"oh my god, congrats princess! i knew it! i always knew you could do it!"

"thanks -- god, i just -- i've wanted it for so long i... i don't know what to do with myself now that i've got it, y'know?" you say, still suspended in vi's arms, your feet lifted off the ground. it takes a moment before you both seem to realize the position you're in, and vi clears her throat as she lets you down, you looking away, pressing your palms to your cheeks to cool the heat gathering there.

after a brief pause though, vi chuckles, reaching out to slip a finger beneath your chin, tilting your face up towards her's.

"c'mon, put on one of those pretty dresses of yours. we're going out."

"out?"

"yeah. to celebrate."

you blink as vi pulls her hand away.

"but it's like... 4:30 on a tuesday."

vi cocks an eyebrow, a smirk twitching at her lips, "yes, and? c'mon cupcake --" her eyes catch yours and instead of looking away, she holds it this time, something flickering behind their powder-blue depths that makes your skin prickle with heat, "i'll show you a good time."

college roommate!vi who takes you to one of her favorite clubs, tugging you through the crowd, the jostling bodies, holding your hand in her's, trying really hard not to think too much about it (or the fucking insane little black and pink miniskirt you put on), telling herself that it's just to make sure she doesn't lose you in the crowd, grinning when someone knocks you into her chest, and she finds her arm wrapped around your waist, fingers scrunching the material of your skirt, your palms splayed on her chest.

she buys the both of you a round of shots, watching with a hitched breath as your tongue flickers out to lick the salt daubed on your wrist, the way your eyes squeeze shut when you take the shot and your lips wrap around the lime slice, tries to ignore the twist in her gut like a turning blade, the way her whole body flushes with heat, the dull ache caught between her legs when you wipe your lips, your eyes bright and a little blown out, your cheeks flushed with color as you giggle and lace your hands with hers again --

"come on! i wanna dance!"

college roommate!vi who is just drunk enough to let herself dance with you, to let herself lean in to the way you're twisting your body, fingers in your hair, your eyes closed, an indulgent smile on your lips, who let's herself imagine (just for a second), pulling you in to kiss you, how soft your lips might feel on hers, how silken your skin might be beneath her hands, who tries not to groan when you lean in closer, link your arms behind her neck, press your whole body against her's, who grips your hips just a little too tight, grinds you against her, sees the way you gasp, your eyelids fluttering as you eyes glaze out --

college roommate!vi who can't help how she groans at the sight, tugs you in by the back of your neck to mash her lips to yours, crushing you to her as she kisses you (finally, finally) and you let yourself he kissed -- your fingers tangle in her choppy pink hair, and she swears you make this sweet, mind-bending whimpering noise in the back of your throat that drives her up the wall and right over it --

but when she pulls back, she sees the look on your face -- shocked and little confused, but you're drunk, and she doesn't wanna do this with you -- at least, not like this.

college roommate!vi who pulls away, only to have you follow her all the way out the club, into this small dark alley, her shaking her head, feeling a strange, saltwater prickle at the back of her throat as she says --

"shit -- sorry. i didn't mean to -- i just -- you were just so -- and i -- fuck, i didn't --"

"vi -- vi -- no, violet, listen to me --"

it's her full name on your lips that makes her pause, makes her turn to find you walking towards her. your lipstick is smeared, your hair a waterfall mess around your shoulders as you corner her against the rough brick of the club's exterior. faintly, she can still feel the pulse of music reverberating from inside the club, but out here, the air is damp and cold and quiet.

"i -- i'm sorry i kissed you," she says, her voice cracking over the syllables. she bites her lips as you frown up at her, your eyes searching her's before you let out a soft sigh and a scoff.

"well. i'm sorry you feel that way. cause..." you take half a step back, your arms curling around yourself before you glance back at her with a hard, determined light to your eyes as you press back into her space, your cheeks bright with color.

"i was really kinda hoping you'd do it again."

vi's breath punches out of her chest; it takes a few seconds of sputtering before she gathers herself enough to speak.

"wait -- what? you..."

you crinkle your nose, rolling your eyes, "i -- i thought i was making it obvious -- i mean, with the whole necklace thing -- it doesn't take a genius to figure how i feel about --"

you squeak as she pins you against the opposite wall, her lips seeking yours out, her fingers rucking up the material of your top, making you hiccup as they tease under the wire-rim of your bra.

college roommate!vi who can barely control herself when you sink your fingers into her hair, tugging lightly as you gasp out a breath, her lips tracking fire along the side of your neck, intent on making you whimper again, just the way she likes, grazing her teeth along your collarbone even as you jerk at her hair --

"vi -- fuck -- vi, not here --" you swallow around the burgeoning desire, and when you glance down to find her looking up at you, her eyes so dark they're almost black, you fight back a groan, cup your palms around her cheeks and pull her up for a long kiss.

"let's --" you suck in a breath even as vi whines at the loss your lips, "let's go home --"

"holy fuck," vi swears, somehow managing to pull herself back just far enough to taste the misty night air. she stares at you, your chest heaving, a daisy-chain of hickeys blossoming along the long expanse of your neck, your makeup good and smeared, your hair a mess, your eyes bright and so full of love as they flicker over her face.

vi smiles, helpless to the loud, uncertain drumming of her heart as she says, "y-yeah -- let's get you home, princess."

college roommate!vi who barely waits for the elevator door to close in your building before she's got you shoved up against the wall, hoisting you up, her fingers seeking out the softness of your skin, tugging up your shirt, her other hand dipping into the waistband of your skirt, her mouth open and hungry as she kisses your neck, bites down at the junction of your shoulder just to hear you moan.

college roommate!vi who's way too good at undoing your bra with one hand the second you get back to your apartment (if you were more coherent, you might've thought it hot), the door slamming closed, the pair of you toppling onto the room, breathy laughs and panting whines as she hoists you into her arms and carries you to your bedroom, laying you down so gently, kissing up your stomach till you're whimpering, your own hands pulling your top off your body, leaving you in an undone-bra and a miniskirt, your cheeks flushed. you push yourself up onto your elbows, watching as vi peaks up at you from between your legs, shooting you a wink before she's tugging down your skirt and panties all in one, an eyebrow ticking up at the lil lacey thing you had on beneath the skirt all along.

"all this for me, pretty?"

you press your lips, eyes cutting away as she looks between the bra dangling off your shoulders and the panties caught round your ankles. her lashes flutter.

"oh, a matching set," she cocks her head, running her palms up your thighs, pinning them open again as you try to press them closed, feeling suddenly much too seen (bc you'd be straight up lying if you hadn't put it on in the vague hope that the night might evolve into something like this).

she clicks her tongue, shaking her head with a cocky, shit-eating grin that makes your heart skitter in your chest. her drops a light kiss to your inner thigh, savoring in the way you whine again.

"nope, keep 'em open princess."

college roommate!vi who takes her time with you, bc rly she's been waiting way too long for this, has imagined it one too many times, but nothing can compare to the way your hips jerk up against her mouth, the way your fingers tighten in her hair every time she licks up the seam of your cunt, the way your breath catches on her name over and over again, like you can't quite get the word out even though it's just a single syllable. she groans against you, too lost in the taste of you to care about what a mess she must look like, with her tongue fucking into your desperate hole, her nose nudging your clit, her fingers digging crescent moon marks into your hipbones.

she's sure that if this were an old-fashioned cartoon, there'd be big, balloon hearts popping out of her eyes. she can't get enough of you like this -- moaning her name, your legs on either side of her face, your skin littered with the remnants of her. she has the eye-rolling thought of you the next morning, of how all these marks will still be there to remind you of her every single time you see one of them.

college roommate!vi who doesn't expect you to flip over after she's literally eaten you out seven ways to sunday, to tug her in for a soft kiss (though she really does like pressing your own taste back into your mouth with her tongue), before your fingers are inching down the length of her body to tease at her hips, trailing circles down the lines of her abs, toying with the thin line of hair that leads into her black boxer briefs.

"what are you --"

you shoot her a look that has her mouth going dry.

"what? didn't think i can give as good as i get?"

college roommate!vi who's literally going to lose her mind with the way you're fingers (at first sight so thin and delicate, but gods are they stronger than they look) are pressing into her, curling up with the kind of precision usually only associated with doctors, and then a voice in the back of her head reminds her -- oh, right, you are a doctor now. but logical thought dies after that, bc you've somehow worked your way between her legs and are looking up at her with those big dark eyes of yours, smiling sunshine bright before you drop a kitten-lick against her clit and she's twitching, keening as she cums all over your fingers.

"jesus fuckin' christ, doll -- is that what you're learning in those engineering classes?"

she's breathless, cheeks flushed, and honestly just a little embarrassed at how quickly she came, but she has to bite back another groan as she watches you lick your fingers clean, grinning sweetly up at her as if you didn't just get her off in record time.

"no, but i did do my dissertation on human-based robotics, which included a lot of late nights memorizing anatomical models so..."

vi pulls you in for a kiss, laughing against your lips.

"you're amazing, y'know that?"

college roommate!vi who can't really believe how much she's lucked out, sharing an apartment with her girlfriend, who literally cannot shut up about you, but the rugby team all agree that they'd rather have this than the months of endless pining. who brags about her genius gf to anyone who'll listen, and looks for you in the stands of all her practice matches when you can make it, who kisses you in front of everyone even when you make a show of trying to wiggle away bc she's sweaty (you don't really care).

who loves telling the story of how you guys met bc she still can't quite believe it herself, and the story always starts with --

"well, actually -- we started off as roommates."

[astraystayreblogs]

AHHHH I LOVE THIS SMMM TOOOOOO

jealousy, jealousy || Seungmin x Reader

Summary: When you planned a study date with your boyfriend, you hadn't thought that he would actually want to study throughout the whole thing — or that he would unexpectedly ditch you halfway through. Fortunately for you, he has a very obliging roommate who's more than happy to give the two of you some alone time...

Word count: 3.7k

Genres: college AU, established relationship, fluffy fluff

Warnings & Tags: jealousy (duh), making out, it gets quite suggestive but no actual smut (rating M), Han makes an appearance

Other works in this jealousy series: I.N

The idea of a ‘study date’ had seemed appealing to you at first. Your boyfriend was one of the top students in pretty much all of his classes and you didn’t want to interfere with that. You also liked working at the library well enough yourself, and you could see the inherent aesthetic of being surrounded by old books, hands brushing against each other every now and again, only quiet whispers filling the silence… Yeah, you thought you could make it work.

Your friends had also hyped you up. There had been lots of grins and winks when you had announced you wouldn’t be available for the afternoon. When you’d rolled your eyes at them and told them you were going to work, thank you very much, you’d been met with a lot of ‘Yeah, sure’ and one unnecessarily detailed description of how you could fuck in the library without getting caught. You hadn’t thought for a second that was an option, but you’d still left your dorm with some butterflies in your stomach.

As it turned out, though, Seungmin’s ideas of study dates were a lot more focused on studying than on the ‘date’ part.

He had kissed you, very briefly, when the two of you had met, which hadn’t fazed you all that much since you knew he wasn’t very comfortable with being affectionate in public. He had, however, taken your hand, traced circles over your skin with his thumb as the two greeted each other, and squeezed it before letting go, which had only renewed the feeling in your stomach.

…maybe you were a little bit down bad.

Things had gone south after that, though. First, he had declined the idea of getting coffee to go, looking at you like you had grown a second head.

“You’re not allowed to have coffee in the library. You could damage the books.”

So you’d given up on that idea, and instead you had headed inside, had found a quiet, isolated place where it was just the two of you.

And so now, an hour later, you’re staring at your books, bored out of your mind, in dead silence, while Seungmin hasn’t looked up from his work once in the past half-hour.

This is on you, you tell yourself somewhat bitterly. Studying is something that he takes very seriously, and you know that. Usually you wouldn’t even mind. You’ve spent a few nights at his dorm, on his bed, reading or watching TV shows on your phone as he worked, and you’ve always found it very attractive, how focused he got in these moments. Even now, the look of absolute concentration on his face, the way his brow furrows sometimes before he flips through the pages of his book to find an explanation for something, how he pushes his glasses higher on his nose whenever they slip—

Yeah, yeah, alright, you’ll stop waxing poetics about your boyfriend now.

You stretch, trying to get your attention back to the essay you’re supposed to be writing. You’ve been trying to find an efficient outline for it, and though you’ve written a few words down and you think you’ve found some key ideas that will do just fine, there’s still a lot of preliminary work to be done. You stare at everything you’ve scribbled on the paper like you’re expecting some genius idea to jump out at you, but all it does is make the words look more jumbled and—

“What are you guys doing here?”

Thank God for Han Jisung, seriously.

“What are you doing here,” Seungmin mumbles without looking up. “It’s my spot.”

“Well it is really romantic,” Jisung says, shooting you a wink. “What are you working on?”

“Seungmin is writing on the notion of humanity in Frankenstein,” you say, “and I’m—”

“Fascinating,” Jisung interrupts you, making you snort, “and how’s it going?”

“Really well,” you reply, easily falling into the same tone as him. “Take a look at that.”

He leans over your shoulder at the empty word document on your computer and chuckles. You always find it easy to be around Jisung. You knew of him before you started dating Seungmin, had heard about him as a part of 3racha, the rap group that everyone on campus was crazy about, but you hadn’t really talked to him. Finding out that he was Seungmin’s roommate had taken you by surprise, learning that they actually got along, more so. He’d been really accommodating though, and he left the two of you alone when he could, crashing at the apartment of one of the other two members of his group.

He also usually made you laugh and, generally, was a fun person to be around.

“Wow,” he grins, “that’s super impressive. There’s already a typo in the title.”

You lean forward with a curse to remove it while he laughs at you. Across the table from you, Seungmin glances up and clicks his tongue. His jaw’s tense, a sure sign that he’s starting to get annoyed.

“You guys should leave if you’re going to be making noise.”

Jisung pouts and gives you a pleading look.

“Wanna grab coffee before you get back to that?” he offers.

“My savior,” you sigh, “I feel like my head’s going to explode. I’ll take a break,” you smile at Seungmin. “I need to get some caffeine in my system to stay functioning. I’ll be back in a few.”

The tension in your boyfriend’s jaw doesn’t go away though, and you almost lean in to peck him on the cheek, but you think that even Jisung’s presence would make him uncomfortable, so you settle for giving him a squeeze on the shoulder as you get up.

Jisung’s already halfway to the door by the time you even get up, waving at you to hurry up in fake annoyance. With a giggle, you follow.

“So, how are things going?” Jisung asks with his gossip voice while he leans against the coffee machine.

You shake your head.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re his roommate.”

“Seungmin says I ‘have no filter’ and I ‘can’t be trusted with anything’,” he shrugs matter-of-factly. The insults don’t seem to bother him in the slightest.

“Things are good,” you answer against your better judgement, maybe partially because you want to brag about your boyfriend. “Seungmin’s very thoughtful, you know? He always remembers the little things I tell him. He plans all our dates. He gets me flowers. Even if…” You frown, gesture at the building around you. “Well, it was kinda tough this week because we have all these essays to turn in, so I suggested a study date.”

“Aw,” Jisung says, “aren’t you the considerate girlfriend?” Then, after a silence: “Do you want the room for tonight?”

“You’re a godsend, I hope you know that.”

“I do.”

“If you don’t mind, I think it would be nice. Seungmin’s, uh, focused on his work and this doesn’t really feel like a date at all.” The issue’s probably that you had gotten your hopes up, and you’d still like to get some actual quality time at some point with him during the day.

“All good,” Jisung says, a little too easily, and you eye him from over your burning coffee.

“Do you know where you’re going to crash?”

His eyes widen, and suddenly he looks like some cute, small animal with big cheeks caught in headlights.

“…maybe?”

“Han Jisung,” you gasp, “is there someone you haven’t told me about?”

Of course, the two of you aren’t that close, but you’re not one to pass on an opportunity to be dramatic. His reaction — spluttering and blushing — only makes it more worth it.

“I, uh… maybe? We’re not…” He starts picking at an undone thread on his sweater, which he seems to find absolutely riveting. “We’re not quite there yet.”

“You should go get it,” you say with a decided nod. “Anyone you’re with would be lucky to have you.”

At that, Jisung glances at you briefly, eyes lighting up before they go back to his sleeve, even though he can’t quite hide the bashful smile that’s starting to form on his lips. That’s a side of him you’ve never seen before. You think you’d enjoy becoming closer friends with him, if things keep working out well between you and Seungmin.

“You really think so?” he asks quietly.

“A hundred percent,” you say, and you mean it.

You slide a chocolate bar across the table to Seungmin as you sit back down by the table, feeling somewhat refreshed — and with much better prospects than originally planned for the evening.

He glances at you, and you take the opportunity to lean over to press a brief kiss to his lips. Even though there is no one around to see it, his cheeks have turned a light red when you pull away.

“I know you won’t eat it in here,” you whisper, “but it can be a snack if you want to take a break.”

He nods, once.

“Was it nice with Jisung?”

Oh, right!

“It was fun! And guess what, he’s leaving the apartment tonight,” you grin. “It’ll just be the two of us.”

Seungmin hums in response, and though you think your announcement deserved a little more enthusiasm than that, you know how he gets when he’s focused. You now feel energized and refreshed, though, and it turns out to be much easier to get your attention back to your paper.

You wouldn’t say you considered yourself particularly academically inclined, and those things don’t come as easy to you as they do to Seungmin. You don’t feel very strongly about it. Different people, different strengths, and yours are much more geared towards human interactions. Sometimes, you do feel a bit envious of how easy Seungmin makes it look, of how brilliant he sounds when you feel like a bumbling idiot when talking about the same objects.

You don’t doubt the fact that you have other things to bring to the table, though. For one, you’re the one who instigated the relationship, and you know for a fact (Jisung told you so) that Seungmin wouldn’t have taken the first step, no matter how much he wanted to.

And yet, Seungmin had been the one to ask you to make things ‘official’. That had been… kinda new to you. Most of the guys around you — the ones you met at parties, or the ones your friends had entanglements with — considered college to be perfect for a ‘no strings attached’ situation.

But Seungmin had looked straight into your eyes as he stood in your doorway, a bouquet of roses in his hands, because you’d mentioned how much you loved them on at least three occasions in a not so subtle way for hinting that you’d like to get some for Valentine’s Day. The tip of his ears was burning red, and yet his voice hadn’t wavered when he’d asked.

You’ve managed to write a whole paragraph — 250 words, not bad —, only minimally distracted by the corny thoughts that are commonplace when you’re around Seungmin when the loud noise of a book being closed shut jerks you back to reality. It takes you a second to locate the origin, but it certainly becomes clearer when you see your boyfriend’s packing his stuff up.

“What are you doing?” you ask, a little too loud for the library environment.

“I can’t focus,” he says, not meeting your eyes, “I’m going back to my room.”

You stare for a few seconds, trying to figure out if something’s wrong, if it’s something you’ve said, something you’ve done, but nothing comes to mind.

“You can come by later,” he says, instant relief flooding your chest, “if you’re done with your assignment.”

His playful tone makes you chuckle and, as he brushes past you, you wrap your fingers in his jacket, pulling him down towards you.

“Alright, do well today.”

You’d only intended to peck his lips, but he presses his against yours more intently, one of his hands on the table, the other on the back of your chair, and it’s hard not to let your friends’ previous suggestions get the better of you in that moment. You feel flushed when he pulls away, and his shit-eating grin makes you want to throw something at him.

“Kim Seungmin,” you hiss, “what—”

But he’s already on his merry way, giggling to himself at the state he’s got you in as he escapes.

You huff, knowing it’s going to take you a hot minute to get back to the state of focus you were previously in. Your eyes scan your screen, then the books opened in front of you, but your mind goes back to the unusual tension in your boyfriend’s shoulders, to the twitching muscle in his jaw. You are amused — and quite flattered — by the idea that you were the one who made him unable to focus, but you do wonder if anything had upset him.

You make a mental note to ask him about it, right next to ‘no more library dates’ and above ‘buy Jisung flowers’. You’ll think about that more when you have the time. For now, this essay isn’t going to write itself.

It is barely 6.30 pm when you swing open the door to Seungmin’s room, and he shoots you an unamused look that you ignore completely as you put down a cup of his favorite coffee on his desk.

“I’m not done,” he says. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” you reply with a shrug, pecking him on the cheek, “I’ll just need to proofread tomorrow.”

He scrunches his nose, and you don’t need him to say anything to know exactly what he thinks of your work ethic, but you don’t really care. He strives for academic perfection and he won’t rest until his essay is worthy of a Nobel prize; you aim for a passing grade and will never think about it again. You do admire him for his abilities though, just like he not-so-secretly wishes he could be even a tenth as carefree as you are. You think that might be why the two of you work so well together.

“I’ll let you work,” you hum, “and we can order something when you want to take a break.” Then, with a grin: “And if you want me to help you relax, all you have to do is say the word.”

He coughs and waves to get you away from him, which you do with a laugh. You’re more brazen when the two of you aren’t in public. Seungmin never fails to act like he hates it, but you’d bet an arm that he’d be incredibly disappointed if you ever stopped doing it.

Also, he does take you up on it about half of the time.

You let yourself fall on his bed and pull out your phone, connecting your earphones to it. You have some time to kill. On a normal day, it takes Seungmin about thirty minutes to stop working, like his brain has a hard time leaving the state of complete focus behind. Today, you suspect you’ll have to wait about an hour before you can get his attention back to you.

That’s not something you mind, not anymore anyway. If anything, you appreciate the quiet, and you like knowing that he’s in the room with you. You suspect it’s the same thing for him when he accompanies you to some of the university sport events or parties, just because you want to go. It may not be his favorite thing, but it’s worth it if the two of you get to be together.

You have to admit, though, that what you like more than anything is how focused on you he becomes afterwards. The second his brain is off his studies, it’s on you, you, and only you. His hands and tongue explore every inch of your skin, the words he whispers in your ear leave you burning, and his eyes devour you like you are the only person in the world.

But, sadly, you’ll have to wait a little bit to experience that again, and so, with a discreet sigh, you focus on your screen.

So when, after about five minutes, when the opening to your drama has just finished playing, you hear the familiar creaking of his chair as he gets up, you glance up, surprised.

“Everything okay?” you ask, pulling out one of your earphones and pressing pause on your phone. “Seungmin?”

You don’t get a reply from him. What you do get is his lips pressed against yours as he climbs into bed with you. You let out a surprised sound, immediately muffled by his mouth, and your lips part, allowing his tongue to slip in. He pushes one of his legs between yours, and you resist the urge to roll your hips against it. He’s shown before that he’s not above riling you up and then going back to study like nothing’s happened, and you’re not going to fall for this trap if that’s what’s happening here.

At least, not until at least thirty seconds have passed. You have your dignity, after all.

But Seungmin’s showing no sign of stopping so far. One of his hands grabs your shoulder and gently guides you down on the bed. His mouth is insistent, aggressive almost on yours, which you don’t mind, but it’s certainly unusual for him. His teeth graze against your bottom lip and you find yourself whimpering.

He intertwines his fingers with yours, pressing you into the mattress, and you can’t hold yourself back from arching up into him anymore. If he is just trying to rile you up, which you doubt more and more with every second, you’ll make sure that leaving you behind will be hell for him too.

His grip tightens on your hand and you think you hear him groan. His free hand comes down to hold onto your hip, halting your movement, but not before you feel the way he jerks against you, half-hard member rubbing against your thigh as he does.

“Seungmin,” you gasp when his mouth leaves yours.

You search his eyes, but all you find in them is desire — and a bit of that tension you had noticed earlier. You don’t get much time to ponder it, though, because next thing you know one of his hand is sliding under your t-shirt, pushing it up and sending shivers through your body, and his mouth is making its way down your neck, sucking on the skin in a way that you’re sure will leave a hickey. Again, you don’t mind that, but Seungmin had always been careful to avoid leaving any in very visible places. He usually went for your thighs or your collarbones, places that could easily be hidden under your clothes.

“Oh my God,” you moan as he unbuttons your jeans and start pulling them down, “what’s gotten into you?”

You feel a mumble against your neck, but it’s nothing you can decipher. Your fingers thread through his hair, and he pushes himself back up to kiss you. It’s slower, more tender this time, like an interlude before what is to come.

You think you’re the one who’s the most surprised when you hear yourself asking “Don’t you have an essay to finish?”

Seungmin frowns at the question, but you’re probably the most horrified out of the two of you.

“Kim Seungmin,” you say threateningly, “what have you done to me?”

It makes him smile that wide smile of his that you love so much, and a wave of tenderness washes over in your heart.

You love him so much.

“I can get it done later,” he replies, and you stare at him.

“Did you hit your head?” you ask, finally, when you’re not able to figure anything different about him — like maybe a suspicious mole that would indicate that he’s Seungmin’s secret twin brother or something.

Seungmin sighs, looking more sullen now.

“Do you really think I can’t be fun?”

You’re feeling more and more confused.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to change things about yourself to be with me,” you say slowly. “I mean, if you want to hook up instead of finishing that, I’m happy to, trust me, but— Is something wrong?”

There it is again, the twitching in his jaw.

“You’re not bored with me?”

“What? No! I— Okay, we were both very busy today, but we can make it up later, I don’t— I don’t need to be constantly doing things, is that— Is that the issue?”

He looks unsure, appears to hesitate some more.

“Isn’t Jisung more fun?”

You blink at him.

“Your roommate, who I asked if he could spend the night elsewhere so I could have sex with you?”

Seungmin clears his throat, glances away from you. The tip of his ears are turning red.

“I’m not saying— Isn’t he more— more your type?”

You reach up, fingertips gentle against him as you tilt his head back towards you so you can look into his eyes. You’re not sure what brought this up — you’re certainly convinced you’ve never shown any form of romantic interest towards Jisung, bless his heart — but you’re also aware of the fact that you’re Seungmin’s first relationship. Sometimes, insecurities hit where you least expect them to.

You’re not one to believe in perfection, all too aware of how messy relationships can get among the best of people, but so far, Seungmin’s been pretty close. It breaks your heart that he can’t see that.

“There is no one I would rather be with than you,” you say, and you mean every word of that. “There is nowhere else I would rather be right now, even if you were still working on that essay.” You see him swallow. “And there is no one who means more to me than you do.” In the silence that follows, he averts his eyes again, though this time you think it’s to recompose himself.

Once he’s done, he gives you a small nod, kissing you tenderly once more.

“For the record,” he whispers against your lips, “there’s no one else I would rather be with either.”

“You better,” you giggle against his lips, and he grins.

“Right, well, in that case, I’m gonna get back to that essay—”

“Don’t you dare.”

i hope this was as much fun to read as it was to write, this isn't a type of character i write all that often but it was nice to switch it up a little bit. first time writing Seungmin too, so i hope that worked out but i had fun! if you enjoyed it, it would mean a ton if you could comment, send an ask, or reblog (with or without tags/comments, whatever you're comfortable with), it's really such an important for an author. and thank you for reading!

[crsssie]

husband - professor!simon riley x professor!reader

Every now and then, Simon gets a student who doesn’t seem to get it past their skull that he’s happily married and not looking for a side chick or mistress.

He can usually tell in the first handful of classes, brow raised as they ask him to visit office hours, shirt peeking a little too low, smile a little too uncanny for his taste. He finds that typically as long as he plays uninterested and talk more about his wife, most of them learn to back down.

Now, occasionally, he gets a student who just doesn’t back down.

In those cases, he entertains the office hours, forcing you to stay back and lounge on the couch when they visit, extra affectionate with you when they walk in, ring on his finger extra polished and your matching one visible when you work.

You find it hilarious when you reach for his tea, lips around his straw as you continue to work on your research, drinking up the way his student’s eye twitches at his blatant displays of affection. You’re his “beloved” when the student walks in, and his “one and only” when they’re almost out of hearing range. You get a kiss when you walk him to class, and you peek into his class so much more to drop off drinks as long as the student doesn’t back down.

He refuses to hold an office hour with the student if you’re not available to hang around. He’d much rather be called a shitty professor than a shitty husband.

He can find another job. Not another you.

[riiserrie]

the demons kept telling me to make this

the forbidden He would not fucking say that but wouldnt it be funny edition. i do what i want ☝🤓

[sauerhundz]

Just soft!Sylus

Sylus who's been waiting all this time for you and can't stand the thought of being away from you.

Sylus who loves the thought of waking up next to you and holding you close to his body, breathing in your scent he hasn't smelt in so long. Who lays in bed staring at your face that he's memorized a thousand times over.

Sylus who watches you walk around his house in his clothes and it fills him with a sense of possessive pride. The dragon in him pleased to see you returned to his hoard once more.

Sylus who would hand you the world on a platter, if you would only ask. Who would rip his own heart from his chest if it would please you.

Sylus who wants to breathe in everything that you are and consume you from the inside out.

Sylus who can't even stomach the thought of another, because for him there's never been anyone but you.

Sylus who misses you even if you don't remember.

He's still your dragon.

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

oral fixation but it's biting instead of sucking. toji has noticed that you like to gnaw on your lip a lot – when you're deep in thought, when you're watching tv, scrolling on your phone, in bed. it's cute. teeth sinking into the soft flesh, eyes blown wide as he works his mouth on you. he can't tear his gaze from you – you're biting down so hard, toji thinks you're going to draw blood. you're desperate, you're needy, and you need more.

he often finds you chewing on your on fingers, too. playing with the sharp canines in your mouth, toji holds back a groan before fixing himself through his pants. it's not his fault you look so good all the fucking time! and the fact that you're doing it unconsciously too, is making his head spin.

you do that in bed as well. toji has learned that you're not trying to hold back your moans – your teeth itch. you need more. he can see the marks you leave on your own skin, how you drool all over the finger that's lodged between your fangs. you bite down harder and harder with every thrust he makes and it has him wondering how much it hurts. do you like the pain? can you even feel it, or is it just pleasure in your head? he needs to know.

so, with one quick move, he pulls your hand from your mouth and pushes his own pointer finger past your lips instead. his hips never falter and he fucking adores the way you try to focus on what he's doing; you're fighting the urge to just let your eyes roll back inside your head but now that his heavy finger sits on top your tongue, you cannot allow them to do so.

your mouth is so warm and wet, and toji twitches inside you. his own lips part as he stares down at your confused expression. you close your mouth around his finger, thinking that he wants you to suck it but no, no...

"bite." his voice is more hushed than usual and the knot in your tummy tightens. "i know ya want to."

hesitation pools in your eyes but he washes it away by leaning forward and pressing a haste kiss to your cheek. it's sloppy, it leaves a stain and a whine bubbles up from your throat. he stays close, his lips brush over your jaw – and that's all it takes for you to obey.

the hiss he let's out is addicting; he pulls back from you in an instant, his mossy eyes glued to your mouth. it doesn't hurt, not really – it's perfect. the roll of his hips slows as he tries to slide his finger between your teeth (he wants it to hurt a little more), he loves the way sharp edges scratch st his already rough skin and he loves the way you're staring up at him right now. a little scared that he'll stop, that he'll tease you, but he won't. not when it feels this good.

you bite down even harder and his hips buck forward at the sensation. his own eyes grow wide, surprised by how much it's affecting him and he grumbles something under his breath before picking up the pace again. you're leaving dents in his skin and you're drooling, you're squirming and twitching. you're so fucking pretty and fucked out and cockdrunk and you keep whining around his fingers and he's going to pump you so full that you're going to taste his cum<33333

[yukizme]

nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just memorized your coffee order because it was the most basic decent thing to do. not because it gave him an excuse to talk to you, even if it was for two minutes.

nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just always kept a spare hair tie with him because you once mentioned that you always forget to bring an extra with you during missions. not because he always remembered every little thing you had ever said.

nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just didn't particularly like gojo, especially when he was making you laugh. not because he wanted you to laugh like that with him.

nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just felt his heart drop to his stomach when you got injured on a mission because that's what he'll feel for any other colleague. not because he couldn't bear the idea of not seeing you ever again or hearing you call him 'kento, my angel.'

nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just asked to be paired with you because you spoke the least amount of nonsense and you proved to be a good company. not because he was slowly losing interest in talking to anyone else who wasn't you.

nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just read the books you recommended because they were already on his reading list. not because he wanted to talk to you all the time about everything and anything under the sun.

nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just brought you your favourite food whenever you seemed in a bad mood because he needed you to focus on the task. not because he didn't like seeing you upset and the thought of you being all sad and teary-eyed made his heart hurt.

nanami kento swore that he didn't love you. he just hated the idea of you loving someone else.

[cursingtoji]

“hm hello? do you need help?” yuuji approached the lady walking the hallways so slowly she seemed lost.

“huh?” you turned and he smiled, thinking how gorgeous you looked. your uniform was a lot like nobara’s, although it was lighter, like it was slightly bleached or just worn a lot, “no, i… i go here.”

“oh are you gojo-sensei’s student too?” he was excited to meet another student, it was such a big school for just a few people.

“gojo… sensei” you repeated confused.

“oh you must be utahime-sensei’s student then? from kyoto?” he tilted his head, like a puppy.

“utahime…” you whispered, “is geto here?” you asked with a certain urgency in your voice, “geto suguru.”

“who? geto?” he scratched his head, trying to remember if he heard about a sensei called geto suguru, “i don’t think i—“

“itadori!” megumi called from outside, yuuji saw him below through the open windows of the second floor he was at, his classmate probably saw him as well.

“ah fushiguro!” he greeted his friend and turned back to you, “i’ll ask megumi, he’s been here for longer than me.”

“who you talking to?!” megumi shouted.

“her!” he pointed, you were in front of him, right by the opened window too, he couldn’t see you?

megumi even moved a bit, “itadori, there’s no one there. stop playing, we got to leave!” megumi scolded him before entering the building.

“eh?” yuuji was frowning.

“sorry, i think i’m in the wrong place” you bowed and turned away running.

“wait!” he ran after you, turning corners he thought you could’ve gone but after a few ones he reached a dead end.

“hm? yuuji?” gojo emerged from a classroom.

“gojo-sensei! there was… someone…” he looked around.

“oi, we’re waiting for you, let’s go” megumi came from where he was, grabbing yuuji by the hood of his uniform and dragging him away.

gojo watched through a window as they walked down the staircase until both boys walked out of the building.

“that was weird” you murmured from inside the classroom he was in, “that boy called you sensei” you put more rice into your hungry mouth, “does yaga know you’re pretending to be a teacher here?”

satoru closed the door, lighting another incense on the table that you used to sit. where every year on the anniversary of your death he built a shrine with food you liked.

“i thought haibara was on a mission but i saw him by the tree” you pointed behind you with your chopsticks, where, outside the classroom and behind the building remained the tree you always had lunch underneath during hot summer days.

satoru undid the blindfold, letting his hair fall as he sat in front of you, admiring how you never aged a day. after all, you couldn’t.

in fact, it seemed like you didn’t realize how much time has passed. every year you appeared and every year you thought it was still 2006, when you had two kouhais that did everything you asked, a girl best friend that insisted you smoked with her and two boys that were helplessly in love with you. the last year you were alive.

“is suguru not coming?” you asked with your mouth full.

gojo swallowed hard, “no, angel. it’s just us.”

[generalsdiary]

Sunday mannerisms I noticed during the 2.7 livestream

when he finds something funny or amusing but doesn't laugh out loud - his right wing twitches

when he is happy or joyous - his left wing twitches

when he is flustered, shy or laughing out loud - both wings twitch

[celestial-jesters]

i think they should be allowed to see the sun ☀️

[blabberoo]

I am not ok

[shouyuus]

18+, pitfighter!vi brainrot, bc its girl-dinner time tw: sorta smut, sorta obsessive!vi, codependent relationship, not quite yandere but the vibes r kinda there, but still fluffy bc im me duh

pitfighter!vi who fucks you like she's trying to leave a part of herself inside you, who holds you so hard that the next morning, you wake up to the blue-tinted ghosts of her fingers along your hips and thighs, the dull blossoming bruises littering your neck and shoulders, rings in the shape of her teeth like strange, demented flowers (or perhaps like footprints) the way they trail along your skin, inked there for all to see.

pitfighter!vi who fights like she's trying to break everyone else in the same way she wishes she were broken herself, all fevered, focused rage, and none of the restraint. no patience, only the blunted sting of a punch well-aimed, an elbow to the ribs, a knee to the groin, spit trailing out the edge of her mouth, a grin crooked and bloody hinged between her lips bc she knows when she looks up and scans the crowd, she'll inevitably find you there, watching her with your wide, alluring eyes.

pitfighter!vi who thinks she knows the depths and widths of hunger, has seen and felt it all, growing up in the lanes, and there are so many different kinds, aren't there? the kind that aches dull and deep in the stomach, the kind that claws and roars open in her chest, the kind that tingles like spider-poison all along the length of her spine. still, she's never quite felt a hunger like this -- the kind that threatens to consume her from the inside out the first time she sees you, and at first, it might've been a wholly vindictive thing -- perhaps its because there'd been something in the shadow of your smile that reminds her of -- well, it doesn't matter.

but the first time she kisses you (in the crush of bodies on a crowded dance floor, the music too loud, the bottom of her boots tacky with spilled drinks and blood and whatever else), you'd run your thumb along the line of her jaw so gently, traced the lines of her face with a touch so soft it ran a fissure through her car-alarm heart, and when she'd pulled away, you'd smiled as if she'd given you something other than just the jagged, broken bits of herself.

later, you'd told her that you still appreciated it then. bc it looked like that was all she could afford to give; and she gave it to you anyway.

pitfighter!vi who does not think she will ever get enough of you, and still, the more she gets, the more you give, the deeper the hunger grows. it yawns open inside her, huge and dark and cavernous, carving into her the more that it's fed, and by the gods do you feed it -- the way your head tilts back to allow her access to the smooth expanses of your throat, the darling, moon-lit landscape of your bare chest and shoulders, the way you're so pliant beneath her, your trust pouring from you like drink. and she drinks. and drinks. and drinks.

drinks till she's head-dizzy and heart-full. drinks till her vision blurs but for the sight of you, the shape of you so familiar to her waking moments it does not shock her in the least the first time she wakes up in the morning to the after-images of you in her dreams.

pitfighter!vi who, for the first time in her life thought she had lost all direction, but now -- she feels like at least there's still someone worth protecting, worth fighting for. and she knows, she knows it's not entirely healthy, how much and how hard she falls for you, knows that perhaps it is not the best thing for a woman like her to make someone like you the still-point of her turning universe, you, who manages to shine despite the grime that collects in the city around you. you, who is softness made into an act of defiance, who, one night, curled against her side, told her that there's a certain vindication to smiling in the face of a world who would love nothing more than to rip the joy, bleeding and raw from your throat.

"it's not always easy... actually," you laugh, the sound sweet as spring water as it trickles over her skin, "it's really fucking hard but... why not do it anyway?"

"what, be happy?" her own voice is low and cracked from the fight earlier that night. but you'd kissed a line down her throat and told her that you loved it when she moaned.

"yeah. if the whole world wants us sad and angry... what bigger fuck you is there than to be... happy?"

pitfighter!vi who lets you draw the dark lines down her cheeks, but they're neater than she'd done them herself, who kisses your fingertips when they're stained with the black of her hair-dye, who laughs fully for the first time in... she doesn't even remember how long, when you lean forward and trace a tiny mustache with the leftover ink on your fingers right over her mouth. who sinks into the sound of your laughter like a warm bath, letting it soak into her sore muscles, unspool the tension coiled in her shoulders, the rictus threatening to settle in the set of her knuckles.

she lets you sooth over the harms and hurts that had followed behind her, nipping at her heels like disobedient dogs her whole life, lets you kiss her brows and pull her behind you as you point at the new graffiti art that wasn't there the week before.

pitfighter!vi who has always had a fierce love for zaun because it's her home, but has never stopped to consider just how beautiful of a place it is until she meets you -- and it is beautiful, an angry, pulsing, rebellious beauty, raw and dripping with shimmer-soaked ichor. a beauty carved of disparate limbs and desperate parts, one that is hard-earned and well-fought, the same beauty found in the darkest hours of night, right before the morning dawns, the same beauty she finds reflected back at her when she sees her blurred reflection in a pool of spilt blood on the fighting pit's arena floor.

zaun hums to the tune of debauchery, and for the first time, she's with someone who allows her to be greedy, allows her the breadth and width of wanting so freely. and she thinks it might be spiraling into a full-blown obsession, the way she can't go three seconds without thinking about you, wondering where you are, what you're doing, what you're up to. and you always tell her, tell her about the flowers you saw growing from a crack in the sidewalk, the shaft of sunlight hitting a shard of broken glass in just the right way, how sometimes if you close your eyes and listen, the ticking and clicking noises that run like a baseline thrum through the entire city almost sounds like birdsong.

pitfighter!vi who can't say she's ever fallen properly in love (she thinks that perhaps, once, she got real close), but wonders if this is what it feels like, to feel the void of your physical absence like the itch of a phantom limb, so she does everything she can to keep you close, glares at people if their eyes linger too long on you as the pair of you walk down the street, doubles down on her training regime so that she can fend of anyone who even breathes wrong in your direction.

who can't help pouting every time you pull away to do anything -- to grab another bag of snacks, to ask the bartender for another drink, to listen to something loris is saying -- she has to tamp down the urge to pull you back, to meld you to her side and never let go.

pitfighter!vi who starts to get more strategic with her fights, who saves up money now bc she wants to take you out to dinner, or just buy you nice things once in a while. who spends way too many hexes and cogs on a bouquet of fresh flowers, ones that aren't tainted or bred with the faint, sickly shine of shimmer, and she thinks its all worth it to watch the smile break across your face like dawn over a brand new day -- brilliant, blinding.

she blinks, watching with a fond smile as you fuss over the flowers in your tiny apartment, the space small but cozy, everything neat and in its place. you put the flowers into a tall, slightly chipped glass mug and set them by the window, admiring them from this angle, then that.

"y'like them, angel?"

you nod, grinning as you throw your arms around her, "i love them, vi! i love them so much!"

"good. i'm glad you like 'em. just..." her voice trails off; you cock your head.

"just, what?"

she shrugs, "ah -- just, i always thought it was sad getting flowers cause... they'll wilt someday, right?"

but when she looks back at you, still caught up in her arms, you're still smiling. and there's a fox-fire glint in your eyes that makes something in her stomach twist hot.

"well, there's one kind of flower that won't wilt that i wouldn't mind having here all the time..."

vi blinks, a dry heat creeping up the back of her throat, her heart a wild, fluttering thing caught beneath her cage of ribs.

"yeah?" her voice is hoarse as she swallows around the hope pooling on her tongue like blood. "and what kinda flower is that?"

you lean in, your breath a whisper along her parted lips.

"violets."

pitfighter!vi who moves in three days later, with nothing but some old clothes and her punching bag, which you'd already made room for (somehow) hung up from one of the high rafters in the kitchen, next to the tiny dining table tucked into the corner. who spends the next three days fucking you on every available surface (and some unavailable ones, like against the fridge for instance), telling you that it's only right to christen things now that you're officially living together.

who doesn't bother to wonder if things are moving too fast, and dives in head first because that's the only ways she's ever known to how to do things. who thinks, blithely to herself one night, the warm shape of you curled next to her, sleeping so soundly it almost breaks her heart, that you're probably the first good thing she's ever gotten stuck on -- and she's gotten stuck on a lot of things (fighting, boxing, the guilt, the shame, the anger, the world-ending sorrow of losing it all). its one of the things vander had always warned her about.

"you get into things too hard, kiddo -- gotta learn to pace yourself."

but she doesn't care, because hard's what she was raised on, and it's how she plans on loving you, god, if it's the last thing she does, right or wrong, so be it.

pitfighter!vi who still has her bad nights, still drinks a bit too much sometimes, but at least you're always there to keep her from going too far. and you're the only one who can pull her back, the only one she'll listen to when you tug the drink away from her hands and slide it down the bar towards loris, who'll eye it for a second before downing it and settling up the tab, nodding towards you even as you sling an arm around vi's middle to lead her out of the bar.

who still wakes up screaming some nights, her eyes wide and unseeing, scrabbling at you, tugging you into her if only to bury her face in your shoulder, her whole body wracked with dry-heaving sobs.

"my sister used to think there were monsters under the bed, and make me check down there every night before going to bed," she murmurs, her face inches from yours, her words soft and ever so slightly slurred.

you brush your fingers against her cheek, a comforting, repetative motion -- back and forth, back and forth, till her lashes flutter shut.

"guess she was right... but the monsters never wanna stay under the bed, do they? it's like they always... wanna come out and play..."

you let out a breathy laugh, "or maybe," you offer, your voice low and soothing, "they're just as scared as you are. and they're just looking for someone to scare their own monsters away."

pitfighter!vi who is still not good at slow, but sometimes, when she kisses you, she wishes that had the power to hit pause on time, just so she could stretch out the moment and kiss you forever. she thinks that she'll never be good at patience, but sometimes, when you tell her just gimme a sec! when she's waiting for you to get ready before going out to dinner at jericho's or just for a round of drinks at the bar round the corner, her leaning against the doorway watching as you put the finishing touches of your makeup on yourself in the kitchen mirror -- she thinks she'd give you every last second of the rest of her life if you ever asked her to.

pitfighter!vi who, recently, has really, really started hoping that someday soon, you'll actually ask her to.

taglist: @traiitorjoe @rizzscary @wetcat020 @alex-thegiraffeboyy @nanasemo @saturnhas82moons @unear7hly @drsnowrose @grantaires-waistcoat @isab3lita @ally-all-around @starrysetup22 @lipsent - join the taglist

[bitterest-taste]

growing up is realising that spencer reid was always hot

maturing is realising that aaron hotchner was also fine as fuck the whole time

[lightseoul]

a/n. feeling soft and yearning for 30-something boyfriend!bkg, so i just had to write something down on him real quick. enjoy! (0.5k)

thinking about quiet saturday evenings with bakugou, spent in the comfortable silence you've both worked towards in the brief time you've spent officially together.

you're in your early 30s now, and people your age are rushing to get rich or get buff or get hitched, but with bakugou it's surprisingly peaceful. you're in no rush, just seven months into this budding relationship, but that doesn't mean the people around you aren't.

"denki's getting married next year," bakugou shares out of the blue, breaking the quiet and sprawled so nonchalantly on his leather couch. you whip to look at him from where you're seated to his right, stunned.

"seriously?"

at that, he snorts. "crazy, right?"

you try to frown at his tone, but the corners of your lips refuse and fight to turn upward instead. "be nice, kats. i was referring to how fast they're going, not to the fact that he's getting married."

bakugou merely hums in neither affirmation nor disagreement. leaning forward, he places the mug of tea he's been nursing on top of the coffee table. "it's gonna be a pain in the ass either way. he asked me to be a groomsman."

you don't even try to tamp down the excitement that shoots through you. "he did? that's great, babe! that's so sweet of him."

he shrugs. "yeah, well. i told him i'll only agree if he included blue as one of the colors for the guests."

you feel your eyebrows furrow. "...blue? what's with that, specifically?"

bakugou frowns at you like you just told him the sky was green. "because that's your color?"

he says it so as a matter-of-factly that you buffer for a second, not knowing how to respond.

"…but the wedding won't be until late next year, right?" you finally ask when you get your words back, voice small.

"yeah?" he retorts without missing a beat. "what're you getting at?"

he asks the question in such a way that's bordering on challenging you, shutting you right up. the thing is, you've never thought much about the future, let alone one shared with bakugou, mainly because you didn't want to get way ahead of yourself and potentially get disappointed, yet...

here he is, talking so casually about it.

you look back up to see that he's still staring at you, goading you for an answer, and for a moment, you debate whether or not to have the conversation now.

the conversation where you talk about what the future looks like ahead of you.

but as you gaze back at bakugou's waiting, crimson eyes, and drink in the softness of his skin that perfectly juxtaposes the sharpness of his features, you decide to save it for another day.

shaking your head, you toss him the gentlest smile you can muster. "it'll be my honor to be your date to the wedding, katsuki."

at that, bakugou scoffs, but there's no missing the tinge of pink now decorating the high planes of his cheeks.

"who else would it be, dumbass?"

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 have a nice day!

[reverie-starlight]

i think if you ask atsumu if he’d still love you if you were a worm one night before bed, he’d get all excited and turn to face you with this huge smile and be like “I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR YA TO ASK ME! I’VE THOUGHT ABOUT IT A LOT!” and go on to explain his plan for two different scenarios- one where you get turned into a worm in front of him via wizard/warlock/witch/spell user/some curse, and one where you turn into a worm overnight and he’s not sure where tf you are in the morning bc he wasn’t there to see it happen.

he then goes on to proudly explain that in the first scenario he’d build you this little portable terrarium and carry you around while he finds a cure for you. and he’d take such good care of you.

in the second scenario he freaks out about you being gone, but comes to the conclusion that he’d somehow eventually realize that you were the worm he found on your pillow that morning and take good care of you and work tirelessly to find a cure as well. he tells you about the terrarium he’d build you in extreme detail. you’d apparently be living a luxury life worms could only dream of, according to him. no birds are getting you while you’re under his care. (<- his exact words.) he’ll get you the premium dirt and a huge fish tank.

so short answer is yes, he would absolutely still love you if you were a worm and he would go above and beyond for you.

you’re touched of course, and also very tempted to find a worm to put on your pillow before he wakes up and hide in the bathroom tomorrow morning to scare him a bit.

[livelaughlovesubs]

Quick thirst before I go back to writing, I was craving something sweet

Imagine this….

Him, sitting in your lap, face buried into the crook of your neck, back bend as he meekly claws at your shoulders. Your entire focus on him and his body, on the way his fingers twitched, the way he squirmed in pleasure.

One arm is securely wrapped around him, holding him close, listening to each others heart beat. The other one feeling him up, teasing his weak spots or playing with his erotic zones. And every time you rub just slightly harder, you are met with his moans and whimpers ringing in your ears. His breath tickling your skin and his tears damping your shoulder.

And once he gets close, he whispers, “I’m yours.”