#and also because man is it significantly better than last year when I was simply not acknowledging how crushed I was my ex just Did Nothing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thecurseisinourblood · 11 months ago

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Grey

I took the stereotypical PA picks out boss’s tie trope to the extreme. Yes, I've come to hurt you because I love you. Ok, but for real this just popped into my head the other day. Imagine this is set not long before Frollo breaks and confesses to Esmeralda that he loves her even if he doesn't want to. This implies Frollo never bought a striped suit. A reminder that Gregory is the man pursuing Esme at the theatre for a few months. He's successful, appropriately older than Esmeralda with dark hair and has a very amiable demeanor.

Also-- Happy Holidays everyone! ~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Gregory was suave, confident, with a gentle smile, and looked good in an array of palettes….

Mirrors at every turn, Lucy watched from an elegant sofa not far off from a shallow platform, stood upon by a notably tall and slim client. The fit of this new suit was not as precise as expected, from what was obvious by both the tailor and the minister. Unfortunate, considering this was the final product, past the final fitting.

Lucy never saw her boss in a mere dress shirt and tie except for these fittings, and if it weren’t for the tailor offering to take in the vest, she wouldn’t have scrutinized the judge’s body. Always attractively lean, he very clearly took it upon himself to maintain muscle. According to the elder judges, Claude had never just been skinny. She presumed he was always conscious of looking too thin because if he didn’t, that’s what he would be. Scrawny, even.

Watching more acutely as the tailor began remeasuring, it began to dawn on her how much the tailor was saying he must take in. Lucy’s gaze lifted back to Frollo’s face. His brow severe, his expression cold and indifferent, but she detected him bristle, even if he did not look at her.

Oh.

Staring still, Lucy perceived his frustration, not toward the tailor, but himself. It was like she could read his thoughts. He never would have brought her here if he had noticed the weight change himself. Never in the mood to be ‘talked to’, it seemed it was imperative that she did not today. The minister was terribly on edge recently, and it would be significantly worse if she mothered him.

Perhaps her eye was not as acute as she had always given herself credit for. Always trying to figure out what he needed, since he could never seem to very well trouble himself to share, she thought he just needed extra space. That is what he wanted, wasn’t it? He always came around in time. Simply having her along at the tailor was a rarer luxury than it once was. For whatever reason, her boss was even more distant than before. This entire year had been different and winter was fast approaching.

Whatever company he thought he wanted when he told her to come along seemed to turn into a decision of regret. She could almost see it, Claude chastising himself for not coming alone. ‘Just like he knew he should have.’

Disengaging, Lucy decided that it was best to remove herself. Pretending not to notice Claude’s black mood, she told them she wanted to browse the dresses since it would be longer than expected. Her eyes lingered just long enough to see him ease.

Exiting through a doorway lined with curtains, a gentleman from the shop approached her with a binder. Showing off the new styles that could be altered, he gave examples of the different fabrics they could be made with. Covering the modestly sized shop, Lucy noticed how much time had passed. Even for an alteration, the minister seemed to be taking longer than expected. Frollo was ‘one of’ this tailor’s finest patrons, but in the heart of hearts, Lucy could tell the older tailor held a fondness for ‘the boy.’

Once Claude set his eyes on the best option, there wasn’t another. He’d been coming to the same man for twenty years now.

Lucy reappeared in the private fitting room to see the judge alone. To her surprise, he was wearing a different vest, a dark, slate, neutral grey, that fit much better than the last. He was debating between two ties. One, a dark amethyst, the other, cerulean. She knew the minister had many ties like the first one, but there were subtle textures flecked across the surface, in a nearly unnoticeable pattern with diagonal lines. Looking to his right hand, she saw a sample of black suit fabrics subtle stripes of dark grey.

This grey vest looked like this one was supposed to be the commissioned and fitted one. If he had commissioned this one too? That would mean… he expected not to maintain his weight. Her heart lept. Did there always have to be something he was hiding?

“I have not seen you labor over a tie like this in years,” not since he was ambitiously attending dinner after dinner to prove himself worthy of the title of minister. Delice flitted threw her mind, but Claude had never gone too out of his way to impress her. He didn't have to do anything but be himself. She tilted her head and watched his face continue to stare at the choices as intently as if they were a ruling. Fastidious was normal, but obsessive?

“Have you been…” more anxious than usual. Lucy trailed off when he looked at her, his eyes warning and filled with an austerity that struck her with a cold gloom. “You don’t even like stripes,” she said instead.

Frowning, the minister looked back down and dropped the sample.

“I like stripes,” he said with a small sneer.

Lucy did not even want to blink. It was hard to notice his weight when she looked at him for so many hours every day-- for years. She missed the change, but she was determined not to let something else slip past. Whatever this was--

“You have not worn stripes once in your life,” Lucy pointed out.

Claude’s lips became this hard and grim line before turning back to a binder filled with lighter colors, any of which would look good with his grey ensemble. Her eyes scanned the selection, waiting for him to speak up.

“All of these would look terrible on me,” he gestured. Even his flourish was rigid as if his muscles were coiled. “And I don’t need something else aging me.”

Lucy’s eyes flew back up to his. It was the first time she ever heard him express an opinion, nonetheless distaste for his looks. Never had he been thrilled, but not once had she heard him complain about his premature aging. It suited him. He was so gloriously handsome, that even he managed to make her loins ache from time to time. Claude had always been vain, but this?

His accomplishments spoke for themselves. Lucy knew he could have looked like a balding frog and still been successful. Frollo knew that, too. The way he behaved when courting Delice was enough to tell her that he knew his worth, and although she saw his doubts, he never expressed them like this.

“The cerulean would look impeccable on you, sir.”

Peeling off the ocean tie from the counter, she threw it around his neck. She liked tying his ties. It was one intimate thing she allowed herself, despite his reluctance. After all of these years, his body still went rigid. She didn’t believe in crossing boundaries, but she believed he needed some form of physical affection. Despite being uncomfortable, he never protested. Mistaken for his wife all throughout his career, that was often how Lucy behaved. Except, he paid her. She was still an expert, even if they were family. It wouldn’t have mattered if he cared for her if she hadn’t proven herself to be a consummate professional, he would have fired her long ago.

Fixing the tie beneath his neck, she was aware of how he was watching her face, like a hawk.

Taking a small step back, she looked at him. The tie complimented his grey-blue eyes and she felt her heart skip a beat as she smiled. He didn’t look older, but he did look different. Whether that difference was good or bad was up to the minister.

He looked in the mirror, and while she was smiling, waiting for him to see himself through her eyes, his brows furrowed.

“I don’t look friendlier… I just look older... silly.” the disgust in his voice, it was like shrapnel in her chest. Her face fell in concern, a concern she knew he didn’t welcome.

But why after so many years was he looking at all of these new things? Why did he want to look… nicer? Lucy quickly recovered and squeezed his arm.

“Usually, if you want to look friendlier, you just relax your face and smile a little. It’s all about how you carry yourself.”

Claude’s frown deepened and his eyes pierced hers with an intensity that sent another chill through her. She desperately wished she understood what he was translating her words to. Why was he so upset?

“I suppose, people would rather have a shit-eating grin and pretend to enjoy each other’s company instead.”

The minister’s fingers darted between the knots of the tie, loosening the offending item quickly. Lucy continued her careful gaze, intrigued and wary of this restless behavior.

“Instead of what?” She dared to ask. “Instead of… how you act?”

There was no need for a response. The judge often displayed how adept he was with his silver tongue. Sharp and clever, he navigated social discourse like it was child’s play. Especially when it came to the prime minister, but she knew how he loathed doing it. Frollo thought everyone was a liar because that is what he was when he smiled and joked. If they weren’t lying, he didn’t understand it, because he didn’t feel the same way.

So… why did he feel the need to lie and manipulate someone’s perception of him? Who did he desperately want to lie to? Himself?

Watching in silence as Claude picked up another tie, not the purple one, but the one he had made with the vest, she saw how his eyes narrowed with scrutiny. Lucy could not deny that she preferred his usual palette. He looked regal, mature, and sharp, but he seemed even unhappier.

“Grey is just as boring and plain as people say,” he murmured, but she sensed the defeat in his voice. He wore so many dark colors, but most of them had a muted and ashy tone to them. Grey was one of the minister’s favorite colors. "And imposing.”

Lucy didn’t take her eyes off him and realized he must be looking at himself through someone else’s eyes. But whose? The public’s? If anything Claude spent his entire career orchestrating this untouchable persona. While he was outwardly proud of his titles and his status as the Marble judge, she did see cracks every once in a while. They all believed him when he said he wasn’t lonely…. But after she told him to break it off with Delice, he had given up entirely. It seemed his ambition to find a mate finally went out like a snuffed candle.

And she couldn’t help but feel somewhat responsible for it. Perhaps Remy was right, that she should have let him make his mistakes.

“I think you look even better in this color,” Lucy piped up. “You aren’t trying to make a statement with gaudy colors. This says: you are the statement, and that’s always what I’ve thought about you,” she paused, “and you like this color, don’t you? That’s why you picked this to be tailored,” her fingers pinched the grey vest at the top of his shoulders.

Those intense eyes flicked to hers on high alert because of the comment. That was the only insight she needed not to press him further. If the past was a lesson, she would have to until he was out of this fight or flight mode to figure out what he was going through. Yes, he must have expected to drop his weight, but was optimistic enough to think he could fit in the other vest. Perhaps this disappointment was the real reason he was upset. Well, and the fact that this was drawn to her attention.

As Claude turned back to preening, she saw him return to the sample of black fabric. The one with the dark stripes. A moment of long silence passed and Lucy decided she could no longer keep quiet.

“Sir… are you thinking about… courting again?”

To her surprise, he didn’t immediately get upset.

“Why?” he scoffed. “I’m already married,” he parroted what was always said about them.

Such a common misconception, but one that struck her again with that piercing kind of sadness. Her blue eyes glossed over, affected by his clear refusal to try.

“Claude… you know what we have is different.”

Although merely looking at his profile, she could see how he darkened. The room seemed cooler. The light behind his eyes dampened as he visibly left the present moment. Her heart sped up. He was shaken. Recovering quickly, he blinked and came back to her, she watched his crow's feet tighten and his lips press together in a nearly undetectable wince.

Lucy acknowledged how unwise it would be to goad him into telling her what he was feeling, but her mind was buzzing and she felt like if she didn’t reach out, he would just be gone one day. Because that is exactly how it would happen. There would be little warning larger than this. He would just decide, and she would get a call.

“Aren’t you the one who believes that people should just be themselves?” Her eyes were still glossy. “If they expect you to wear the blue tie, then they don’t deserve you in the grey one.”

A bit frenzied, Lucy felt like she was beating a dead horse as he just stood there, refusing to look at her. Each moment was an eternity as she watched his heavy, furrowed brow. Claude swallowed.

“It’s not about the tie,” his voice was so tight that his volume was quiet. “The grey tie isn’t working.” It didn’t work with Jehan, it didn’t work with Aurore, and it wasn’t going to work with Esmeralda.

Oblivious to his thoughts, a few tears slipped down Lucy’s cheeks as she wrapped her hands around his arm and squeezed, wishing to express her deep love for him.

“But it is. You have me, Remy, Jean-Pierre… we all love you. I know someone else could.”

Letting him off the hook, she stepped away from him. It was important to her that he knew she wasn’t holding him to a response. She grabbed the sample square of striped fabric.

“Monsieur,” Lucy called out to the back office, just loud enough to grab the attention of the elderly tailor. “If you have an example of this fabric prepared, Minister Frollo would love to try it on.”

“Of course,” the man smiled. “He’s always modeled the stripes well, perhaps he’ll finally order one.

Lucy’s mouth parted in shock, snapping her head back to the minister. She could see the amusement in his grey eyes and the faintest, coy smile.

#my modern Frollo jealous of people who aren't constantly guard #not that he is always this high strung but Esme really swooped in and more uncomfortable around the fam even #calligraphy #vault #v. a selfish serpent #v. the marble judge #mun writes

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ankoku-teion · 3 months ago

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Ok, so. To do a somewhat better job of articulating my feelings on this:

I know for a certainty that I am not simply cisgender.

I have questioned my gender previously but never took it further than the inside of my head. June of this year, I took a leap and bought myself some feminine clothing and it has changed my world significantly.

I started doing some research and some reading and some deep exploration of myself. Because I've never really tried to engage with the gender identity labels before.

I started off exploring the ideas of being a-gender, enby, or gender fluid.

I've not got a strong internal sense of what my gender is exactly. There's nothing in there that says "i am MAN" or "I am WOMAN" that a lot of other people seem to have. So maybe a-gender. But a lot of the a-gender people I've read/spoken to have a very definite sense of NOT being those things, which I also dont have. I just lack the abstract concept, which I think is because I'm autistic, so I just engage with my gender in a different way. Which is true of my emotions. I dont have an abstract concept of a lot of emotions, instead I experience them as physical sensations which I then have to consciously translate.

So probably not a-gender?

I've ruled out gender fluid too on the basis that I dont feel differently from day to day, I still want to express it in the same ways I just feel external pressure not to in some situations. (And sorting out what was internal Vs external took me a long time too)

Over the course of this I've been edging towards the trans label too. It might fit me? But.i don't quite feel comfortable identifying that way. I feel like I'm trespassing or something. I have friends who are binary trans and on HRT, and have been for years, and I've talked with them a lot over the years about their struggles and experiences. Taking on the label feels disrespectful to them I guess. And trying to talk about this with them was fucking nerve-wracking too, even though I knew they'd understand, I couldn't suppress the fear that they'd call me out as a weirdo and tell me I was appropriating their community.

So for now I'm settling on Enby. Because I know I'm not a cis man, but I don't feel comfortable with trans woman either. Trans as a broad umbrella term, I'm ok with, but "trans woman" specifically gives me trepidation.

I definitely like dressing femme, the first picture I took of myself in a blue dress with my red wig was the first picture of myself that I've seen since I was 14 and not instantly hated. I wear silicone breasts and a bra full time now too, and it just feels right in a way I can't explain.

Every time someone on this site uses she/her or calls me Sarah I get a small thrill of happiness down my spine. And my friends have remarked that I'm noticeably happier and more energetic overall the last couple of weeks.

I actually enjoy clothes shopping now too? It's still as awkward and frustrating as it ever was, if not moreso now because it's even harder to find anything that fits, but when I do, it makes me happy enough that it's worth it.

I'm still crap at painting my nails, but again, it makes me very happy. Even the opportunity to be frustrated and disappointed by the results feels better than not doing it.

I saw a post a couple of hours ago about fish not knowing they're wet, and that being a metaphor for trans folk in denial and dysphoria. And I honestly am starting to feel like the fish being lifted out of the water. Panicky and scared. But also now I know the water is wet.

My mental health has been in the shit since I was 14, Ive constantly hated myself and my body for seemingly all different reasons or no reason at all. Now in hindsight it kind of makes sense.

I'm taking this whole thing in small steps and avoiding the big questions for now, because trying to think about that now is overwhelming, but it kind of all falls into place when I look back on it.

hey are you a girl now

Ehhh, I guess?

I'm definitely happier being femme. Still not entirely sure what to do with that.

#enby #transfem #transgender

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powderpinkprincess · 2 years ago

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Underground [Legolas x human!reader]

Oh well, didn't I get lost a little... Here's another one, not my best but it's honest work 😏

Description: Your journey leads you straight into a mountain that you do not like. Thank Eru you have an Elf by your side whose vision is much better than yours.

(he's so pretty ⬇️)

You felt like you could break down and cry at any minute, really.

You watched as Aragorn stopped once again and brushed the mud with his fingertips. Then he stood and gazed around while Legolas approached him. They whispered to each other in Elvish, and Legolas furrowed his brows.

Gimli wasn’t even there with the group anymore mentally, he sat on a comfortable-looking rock and- Silently dissociated, or something like that. A sigh left your lips as you followed his actions. You choose a spot close to him and tried your best to find another inner world where your legs didn’t ache so terribly much and you were well rested, smelling like fresh flowers.

Like Legolas. Somehow, he always smelled nice and never looked exhausted. You allowed your eyes to rest on him for a short moment, hoping he wouldn’t notice. As disturbing as it sounded, you loved watching the Elf. You found a strange kind of comfort in him. It could have happened because his hearing and eyesight were significantly better than anyone else’s in the group. Or that he was thousands of years old, therefore he was the most experienced fighter among you all. Or simply just that he was an Elf. The first one you have ever met.

“We have to go down through the tunnel,” Aragorn’s sudden loud voice ripped you out of your thoughts, and you glanced away as quickly as you could, not knowing for how long you had been staring. Your cheeks turned red, and you prayed to Eru that no one noticed.

Then you realized the meaning of Aragorn’s words.

“Is that absolutely necessary?” you asked, your voice a pitch higher than it usually sounded.

“Yes, unless you want to be slaughtered by Orcs in the moonlight,” the man replied as he looked at you.

“I do not wish that,” you mumbled. Now you had a bigger issue than your aching legs. You hated the dark caves more than anything. Your human eyes could not handle them, and when you were down there you always lost the track of time, feeling as if you spent hours there instead of a couple of minutes. The last time you visited a mountain on the inside was about five years ago.

You stood uncomfortably.

“Well, if we must… But then I will go with Legolas,” you stated. You heard Gimli snickering in the background, and you turned to send him a questioning look.

“I do not think your Elf feels more at home down there than you do,” the Dwarf explained, seemingly amused.

“He is not mine,” you retorted immediately, your cheeks reddening once again. Gimli just hummed.

You all walked inside, and it didn’t take long until the fear started taking up on you.

“Can you see anything?” you whispered to Legolas, hoping that he was still by your side. Aragorn led the way with a small torch, but it did not give enough light for you in the back.

“Two separate tunnels, though it seems like the left one can not be used,” the Elf replied, his voice coming from further away than you hoped.

“What are you doing?! Come back to me,” you whined, entirely giving up on your good presentation. You faintly saw Legolas’s silhouette stopping and turning towards you as he waited.

“What if the torch gives out?” you questioned as soon as you were close to Legolas again. Small rocks rolled under your feet and you tripped, mentally preparing to fall on Eru knows what in this darkness, but a pair of firm hands caught your arm, holding you up.

“Do not think of such things,” Legolas answered. He waited until you gained your balance back before releasing his hold. “We are almost out.”

“How do you know?”

“The air smells fresher.”

“Of course,” you mumbled. You felt absolutely no difference, though that was no surprise, none of your senses were as fine as the Elf’s. You also had the opportunity to learn that the concept of ‘almost’ did not mean the same to a mortal Human and an immortal Elf, so you did not fully trust Legolas in this one.

You nervously fidgeted with your ring, which was also a mistake, because when you tried to fix it, you accidentally dropped the small jewellery. You stopped in your tracks.

“What did you drop?” Legolas asked without hesitation.

“My ring.” Tears pooled in your eyes. This was the last straw for you. You were never going to find it here in this dark, tight hell. You wished to get out of here so badly! Your throat felt tight as a silent tear rolled down your cheek.

“Hey, don’t cry.” Of course, he noticed it. Legolas noticed everything.

Aragorn turned back, so the light of the torch gave you a better view of the Elf. He scrutinized the ground for a minute before crouching down to pick up the ring you thought you had lost forever. He placed it on your palm with a soft smile.

“Are we okay?” Aragorn asked.

“Are you still crying, lass?” Gimli chimed in.

“I am good now, thank you,” you sniffled, and you wiped your eyes. “Let’s get the hell out of here, please!”

Aragorn nodded and turned back to lead the way. Gimli hurried his short steps to catch up with him. And Legolas- Legolas took your hand in his palm to guide you.

You wondered if it meant something to him at all because to you, it kind of meant the whole world.

#legolas #legolas greenleaf #legolas thranduilion #legolas fanfiction #legolas imagine #legolas x y/n #legolas x you #lotr #lord of the rings #lotr x reader #legolas x oc #legolas x reader

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buttercream-squad-imagines · 3 years ago

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Tinder in Real Life

Pairings: Harry Lewis x fem!Reader, Sidemen x platonic!Reader Word Count: 2k Warnings: Language some people may find offensive, sexual themes, recycled lines from Sidemen Tinder in Real Life because I'm not at all creative Request: Hey! Could you do reader x Harry imagine where the sidemen do a collab video with the reader who is also a big youtuber and Harrys celebrity crush. And during the video the reader is very flirty, leaving Harry a flustered mess when the flirting is directed towards him, but very jealous when its with any other sidemen.

The Sidemen were one of the biggest groups on YouTube and one that you were very familiar with. At the age of 23, you were a fair bit younger than some of its oldest members but yet you had a close relationship with JJ, whom you had met through YouTube.

You had started your channel when you were 17, just under four years ago, making makeup videos, which was a passion of yours when you were younger. Not that you were any good at it back then. Those videos quickly become unlisted when your channel started blowing up in late 2016, now nearing 20 million at the present time.

It wasn't long before you expanded your horizons and had started making different sorts of videos, including vlogs of your everyday life - which wasn't and still isn't that exciting in your opinion - and those where you just had a laugh, attempting to do stupid challenges that were so popular back then. It was those, however, that grew your channel. Your fans seemed to love them and so you gradually started to make more.

As your small channel began to grow significantly, it caught the attention of KSI, a member of the Sidemen, who reached out to you to for a collab. You were ecstatic. You couldn't believe it at the time, why would someone like KSI with 20 million subscribers want to collaborate with you? By that time, you couldn't exactly call yourself a small channel anymore, with almost 5 million subscribers but it still didn't make any sense to you.

You and JJ quickly bonded after filming together. You had a very similar sense of humour and interests. As the years went, the older boy became one of your best friends, the nature of your relationship being very teasing and flirtatious but the both of you knew it was a joke. It was just the way you both were.

Though despite having known him for nearing 3 years now, you had never met the rest of the Sidemen, with the exception of Simon, as he lived with JJ. Which is why when he texted asking you to collaborate with the Sidemen, you couldn't turn the offer down. You were a fan of the group and the content they were producing. You thought the videos that they made were exceptional, that they were pushing the envelope of the standard of content on YouTube and often found yourself excited for new videos.

He had explained that they were filming another of their 'Tinder in real life' but a YouTuber version with the likes of BambinoBecky and ChiWithAC. You were so excited. You were finally going to meet the rest of JJ's friends and you had the opportunity to be a part of a Sidemen Sunday.

You arrived at the studio the boys were filming at in the afternoon, finding and greeting JJ before he introduced you to the other sidemen in addition to Lux, Freezy and Stephen.

"And you've already met Simon." He finished.

"Yeah. Nice to finally meet you all. JJ tells me a lot about you guys." You laughed.

"Because that's assuring." Ethan pointed out with a chuckle, the other boys letting out agreements.

"Not all bad, I promise." You teased, winking at him. Ethan felt the blood rushing to his face, immediately becoming flustered and stumbling over his words. You found that you often had that effect on people as you could be very direct and flirtatious even when you didn't mean it. To you it was just friendly banter.

"Geez Y/N, stop flirting with people you met literally five minutes ago." JJ rolled his eyes.

"You sound a bit jealous, Jide." You smirked, a teasing grin spread across your face.

"Nah, allow it." There were eruptions of laughter around the room, coming from the boys. You were quick to notice Harry standing out of the way and was significantly quieter than the others, with what seemed to be a forced smile on his face.

Harry was in his own head, barely paying attention to what was going on around him. When JJ had told him that you were going to be in the next Sidemen video, he panicked. You were an accomplished YouTuber who he was quite fond of to say the least. Well, that would be an understatement, he had a fairly large crush on you. A crush that no one but Freezy and Lux knew about.

He knew that JJ had been friends with you for some time now but never considered the possibility of even meeting you. His anxiety acted as a barrier to even the thought of it. But he was currently in the same room as you and had said nothing more than a short 'hello'. He longed to have the confidence Ethan had to speak to you, even more so for you to look at him the way you were.

Already you were flirting with JJ and Ethan, something that caused a pit to form at the bottom of his stomach. He wouldn't admit it, but he could slowly feel the jealousy forming. Not that he had anything to be jealous about in the first place!

You continued to speak with the boys as you got your mic set up, telling them stories you were sure would embarrass JJ.

"Y/N, stop." The older boy whined. He could be like a child sometimes, but it was one of his more endearing qualities. He simply wouldn't be JJ if he wasn't.

"No, carry on." Simon laughed.

"Oh, don't worry, there's plenty more where that came from." You teased.

"I think it's time we started, don't you think?" Harry grumbled.

"Right." You smiled at the boy, who's cheeks became tinted red. He ducked to hide his face and walked around to stand in the line, hiding himself in the middle.

"Hi, I'm Y/N, I'm 23 and I'm from Y/H/T." You spoke to the camera once you were given the go ahead.

"I'm Simon, I'm 28. I like to practice safe sex."

"Always a good start."

"I could tie you to the bed, so you don't fall off." He finished with a giggle. You acted like you were pondering it for a moment before letting out a laugh and swiping right.

"I'm down for that." You teased. The boys all let out rumbles of laughter

"Hi, I'm Ethan, I'm 26 and kiss me if I'm wrong, but you're gonna swipe right."

"What would you rather?" You joked. Ethan shrugged his shoulders and walked closer to the board, sticking his head through with his lips puckered, eliciting a cry of protest from Harry that this wasn't allowed. You laughed and made an over exaggerated motion to swipe to the right, causing him to pout playfully but walked over to the right anyway.

"Hi, I'm Josh, I'm 28. KSI has a top ten single, but you're the only hot single I can see."

"Wow, that was smooth!" You said with a grin. "Definite yes from me."

"I'm Callum, I'm 26. Are you into fitness?" Freezy asked.

"Can't say I am." You replied, unsure of what turn this could take.

"How about you fitness dick in your mouth?"

"I wouldn't get too excited babes, I gag on my toothbrush." You laughed. "We could try though."

You swiped right on him, chuckling as you watched him let out a yes before joining Simon, Ethan, and Josh. You frowned slightly, a crease forming between your brows as you saw Harry whisper something furiously at his friend but ultimately got distracted by Vik stepping up to go next.

"I'm Vik, I'm 25. My ex-girlfriend always said I'd never do better than her, wanna prove her right?" You could hear the cries of the boys in the background, some scolding him, others laughing.

"Man actually said prove her right. Not wrong." JJ shrieked with a shocked look on his face, holding his head with his hands.

"You need to find someone for that." You snarked, swiping left on the boy, who shrugged and walked off.

"Damn! You got told!" Lux cackled.

"Uh hi. I'm Harry. I'm uh 25, no I'm not I'm 24." He stumbled. "Are you sure you're a muggle? Because that ass is magical."

"You should see how magical it can be." You spoke before cringing at yourself and laughing, swiping right to avoid a reply. The boy's face grew a bright shade of red, closely resembling the colour of a tomato.

"Geez, is that an offer?!" Freezy yelled from the right side. You laughed, observing how Harry whispered furiously to the boy to stop and winked at him once he had could see. Your laughter only increased as you watched JJ step up.

"I'm JJ. I'm 28 and are you a raisin? Cause you're raising my dick." The boy in question stood in front of you so confidently, hands clasped together in front of him so seriously that you just lost it. By the time you composed yourself, there were tears almost falling from your eyes.

"A* for effort." You laughed, swiping right eliciting a cry of success.

You had wrapped up filming your segment of the video, which conveniently was the last of the day. You found JJ who you spoke to whilst the other boys were otherwise occupied talking to each other.

"Cheers for coming, Y/N/N. You've been great."

"Anything for you." You joked.

"Don't tempt me." He laughed. You could feel eyes on you, eyes that were burning into your side. You turned your head to see Harry staring you and JJ down before looking away after being caught in the act, and suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"Does Harry not like me or something?" You whispered to JJ, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden.

"Not that I know of." He frowned looking at the younger boy. "He can be a bit awkward at times and gets flustered a lot."

"Right." You agreed. You excused yourself before sauntering up to the boy in question, calling his name to snap him out of the daze he appeared to be in.

"Oh, um hey Y/N." He stumbled.

"Hi." You smiled gently. "I uh, I was just wondering, do you... have I done something to offend you?"

"Offend me? Why, uh, why would you think that?" He rambled.

"It's just... it's nothing, it's probably just me overthinking things." You waved it off, feeling like a complete idiot.

"I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I don't like you. I don't not like you, in fact I really like you! Oh, um I mean I like you, you're very pretty." The boy couldn't stop rambling which made you laugh. "No, wait."

"You think I'm pretty?" You blushed interrupting him. Harry felt his mouth go dry, not being able to get anything coherent to come out. "Well, Harry, I really like you too."

"What?" His eyebrows shot up so far it was almost comical. "Really? So, you don't like the other guys?"

"What? No." You laughed. "That's absurd. Why would you think that?"

"You seemed very..." The boy trailed off, not wanting to offend you after you had admitted to liking him.

"Flirty?" You finished, causing him to nod. "I'm like that with everyone, I don't mean to be half the time."

"Oh."

"Well, how about you give me your phone number and when you finally grow a pair, you can ask me out?" Your confidence levels had shot up spontaneously.

"Uh, sure." His cheeks had become a dark shade of red as he passed his phone to you so you could put your number in. You kept looking up at him as you typed, putting your name under 'Y/N x' in his contacts before handing it back to him.

"Y/N! Come on! We're going to Nando's!" JJ called from the other side of the room.

"Call me." You winked. Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth and was currently the only thing from stopping the wide grin from spreading across your face. A grin that hadn't disappeared from your face for the rest of the day, much to the curiosity of JJ, who was disappointed when you refused to tell him why, or more appropriately who, had put the smile on your face.

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fursasaida · 4 years ago

Text

A lot has been said about Pelosi’s idiotic, offensive, bullshit statement about the Chauvin verdict, but what’s sticking in my craw more is actually Mayor Frey’s (of MPLS) similarly fuckshit statement. Please note the emphasis I’m adding to this with the bolding:

George Floyd came to this city to better his life. But ultimately his life will have bettered our city. The jury joined in a shared conviction that has animated Minneapolis for the last 11 months. They refused to look away and affirmed he should still be here today.

This is similar to Pelosi’s statement in that it casts George Floyd’s death as a kind of redemptive martyrdom for which “we” should be grateful, rather than a horrific tragedy that should make us angry or active or otherwise something other than placid and self-satisfied. But it exposes the underlying idea more clearly, and that idea is extraction.

This formulation says: George Floyd came to the city with hopes and intentions, and the city ate him to fuel itself. (It has been animated!) It says, the city robbed this man. It says, his future was never his future; it was fuel to continue and even improve the city. There is nothing mutualistic about what this says--no sense that people come to the city because of what they hope it can help them do, and in the process of achieving it their efforts also become part of the city, and all of these efforts, together, make the city what it is and make it better and more, even as they also make the city a place where people can achieve the things they want. (Even dry, conservative economists are capable of articulating “the city” this way, in their own terrible jargon.) The city apparently does not need people to live in it to be bettered. It only needs people to bring themselves to be ground up.

I wrote a paper in January about the carceral system as a system for extracting time, as a “natural resource,” from the lives and bodies of racialized and criminalized people. In the paper I pointed out that “time” can mean a lot of things, and if we are going to talk about its extraction then we need to ask what it is in its “raw” form and what it is processed into and used for upon being extracted. I said that raw time was simply potential and possibility, and that from this potentiality of life state practices like harassment, surveillance, arrests, killings, incarceration, prison transfers, parole, all manner of political theater, and so on produce temporal products the state can use like duration, events, and rhythms. Rhythms are useful because they synchronize and organize the workings of the state’s various systems and integrate them into the coherent whole called territory. Duration means sustenance or maintenance: the continuation of the state’s current configuration. And events are useful because they a) can be used to construct other rhythms (like cycles of “reform” followed by crackdowns, adjusted for various political purposes) and b) are the things you hang a narrative on.

What these politicians are doing with their rhetoric is very literally processing the time, the potential and possibility, what Ruth Wilson Gilmore called “the resource of life,” that was taken from George Floyd into an event. (The trial itself was already doing that, of course, but now they are eventalizing the event further.) This event is supposed to link into the sanitized--”folkloric,” as Osita Nwanevu put it--narrative of the Civil Rights movement. The nature of that narrative is to lock struggle into the past, to treat the losses that were part of it as finished, justified, nobly necessary, and the objects of awe and respect rather than sources of grief or motivation. (ETA: Decent thread here pointing out how Biden’s explicitly linking last year’s protests to the 60s skips over decades of public mobilization in between, including the formation of BLM in 2014 when Biden was still VP.) Whether we regard this as extending that narrative into the present or shunting George Floyd’s life and death into the past doesn’t really matter. Either way, the future that is left open here for those of us alive to encounter it is what is called “the future anterior,” a future that is only an extension of the past--more of the same. The “future to-come,” as a meaningfully different and significantly unknowable future, a future with the “raw time” possibility of being different that makes the future what it is, is deferred. All these practices do that--separate future anterior from future to-come, and use the predictable guarantees of the former to generate value while deferring the latter.

Many, many Black and other intellectuals have written about how liberalism and capitalism have been built on extracting value from the people they racialize and criminalize. I doubt anyone reading this far needs that explained. I just find it revolting how clearly Frey has articulated that here. “Our city is better because it killed George Floyd. Be uplifted.” Yes, he ended on “he should still be here.” I suppose that’s better than if he hadn’t. But I can barely hear that closing over the first two sentences ringing in my ears.

#1 #2 #3 #4 #5 #george floyd #carcerality #USA #MN #minneapolis

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shinidamachu · 3 years ago

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I need some Inuyasha as a great father (more like DILF, amirite?) headcanons, can you help me out?

I'm here to serve!

• It isn’t until they’re happily married for at least one or two years that the possibility of children are brought up.

• At first, they took that time to relearn each other, enjoy their company and make the honeymoon phase last a little long. They did spend three years apart, after all. There’s so much time to make up for, so many catching up to do before they’d even think to throw a kid into the mix. Plus, being a modern woman, Kagome would know how to avoid pregnancy the best her new circumstances allowed and how important that time alone is for a newly-married couple.

• They never actually had the child talk because Kagome just assumed that’s where their relationship would naturally lead to, given her motherly tendencies and Inuyasha’s history of ultimately giving her everything she wants. For his part, Inuyasha knew she wanted to be a mother someday and he'd be lying if he said he never indulged the fantasy of fathering her children. However, he has serious trouble wrapping his mind around the idea that, in reality, Kagome would still be up for it if he were to be the father. He could never dare to ask of her more than she has already given him. Be that as it may, it was not a big deal because it was not a dealbreaker. Nothing was.

• But with time, Kagome would have noticed how good Inuyasha is with Hisui and the Mirsan twins. How his relationship with Shippo had developed from a sibling banter to a makeshift paternal relationship. How people like Shiori and Bunza would look up to him like he was some kind of movie hero. How every kid in the village seemed to adore him despite his grumpy demeanor.

• And Inuyasha would have noticed the way Kagome would look at him whenever he so much as interacted with a child, the way her smell would spike significantly.

• She, of course, was the one to make the first move, jumping him one night, after they had spend the whole day stuck with babysitting the Mirsan children and popping the question.

• Inuyasha was relutant. There was a part of him that was adamant on making her happy and even believed having babies would make him happy too. On the other hand, he was terrified. Terrified of how her body would react to childbirth, of if her spiritual powers would accept his demonic energy. But mostly, about what would happen once the baby was born. The last thing he wanted was for Kagome to go through everything his mother had to go through. Or for another kid to face the same prejudice he did. Besides, he grew up with no father figure whose steps he could follow. He didn’t know how to be a father.

• Kagome assures him that they won’t have a baby until they’re both ready and on the same page, that they have time and that Inuyasha will be a great father.

• Inuyasha believes her.

• Then it is him felling some type of way whenever he sees Kagome around kids. And something deep inside desperately wishes to find out what would their children look like, what would it be like to hold and take care of someone born from their love.

• Finally, he caves.

• Inuyasha wants a big family, considering how lonely his childhood was. Kagome finds it pivotal for their first-born to have a sibling, since she had Sota and their relationship was one of the most important things in her life. That’s why they’d have two children minimum, preferably a boy and a girl. However, giving how dangerous and uncomfortable childbirth can be, especially without the perks the modern era provides, I don’t think they’d have more than three.

• Naturally, Inuyasha relies on Miroku for advice and the latter is more helpful than not. Except for the times Inuyasha asks or says something that makes it way too easy for Miroku to mess with him. Like the time he told Inuyasha that if he doesn’t get Kagome whatever food she craves while pregnant, the baby will be born looking exactly like that food. And Inuyasha believed him.

• And if you thought Inuyasha was protective of Kagome before... oh boy! He’d be almost overbearing, but Kagome would see it as endearing. Most of the time. Sometimes, though, a woman has got to have her privacy. He also becomes more attentive, more gentle, sweeter.

• After their first child is born, Inuyasha gets a makeover of sorts. He’s always borrowing the Fire Rat to Kagome and the baby anyway, so he figured it’d be more practical to just pass the clothes on to them already and get something new for himself.

• It’s white.

• Inuyasha becomes taller, stronger. And often lets Kagome experiment with his hair with braids, top nots... and ponytails.

• Old Myoga is the first one to notice the resemblance. And it’s true. He’s the spitting image of Toga. Former enemies and allies often mistaken him for Toga and Kagome thinks the look on their (and Inuyasha’s) face is hilarious.

• Sesshoumaru does not care for it (I stole this one from @heavenin--hell).

• Inuyasha hates his human nights even more because now his vulnerability also means he might not be able to protect his family as he usually would (Together Changed by @goshinote and @lostinfantasyworlds inspired this one). Plus, the black hair and lack of dog ears confuses the baby, who cries and fusses for a good while until realizing it is, in fact, Inuyasha holding them (this one I saw in an adorable fanart I can’t find).

• But since he needs way less sleeping than humans and he spends the New Moons up anyway, Inuyasha gets a lot of quality time with their infant at night, which allows Kagome to actually get a good night sleep unless the baby is hungry.

• The Beads of Subjugation get dooled and chewed on. A lot.

• A little contest takes place between Kagome and Inuyasha about what the first word of their first child would be, with Kagome going for “dada” and Inuyasha going for “mama.”

• Kagome wins.

• Inuyasha’s fighting style changes. He still says some snarky remarks, but now it’s more to push his opponent‘s buttons down so they would get sloppy than anything else. After all, he has a child to think about and provide for now. He doesn’t have the luxury of gambling with his life anymore. He has a home to come back to and therefore won’t be taking any chances (credit to @born-for-eachother for this one).

• And so he becomes more lethal on the battle field. Pragmatic. Objective. Calculating. Decisive. Cold blooded. Much like... Sesshomaru.

• He had never been more offended on his life than the day Sango pointed this out to him.

• When the kids grow up a bit, Inuyasha and Kagome start to tell them bedtime stories, with the PG version of the story about how the met and defeated Naraku being their favorite.

• Kagome tries to be a reliable and calm narrator while Inuyasha exaggerates the events and the voices, almost always breaking objects of their house in the process.

• After hearing one too many times about the Beads of Subjugation, their child tries to “sit” Inuyasha. Of course it doesn’t work, but he still makes a big deal out of throwing himself on the ground every time they say the word just to hear them laugh.

• The first actual toy Inuyasha buys them is a ball, just like the one he had as a kid, at the same time accomplishing a childhood wish through them and ensuring that they would always have someone to play with.

• Kagome is more protective of their physical state while Inuyasha is more protective of their emotional one (see Fist Fight by @omgitscharlie)

• Inuyasha goes to Totosai and asks him to make a weapon out of one of his fangs to each of their children once they get old enough for it. Not necessarily a sword, just something of their choice and that better fits their personality.

• He would be a just father, doing his best to show no favoritism, treat his children equally and make sure no one felt overlooked or unloved.

• But truth be told, if one of their babies turn out to be a daughter, he would definitelly let her get away with almost anything, no matter how much of a gremlin she is. Daddy’s little girl would have him wrapped around her tiny fingers.

• Life never treated Inuyasha kindly. From a very young age, it was kill or be killed. It wouldn't be too far off for him to think the exact same thing could happen with his kids, therefore he tries to prepare them, to tough them up so they can take it.

• And I believe this sentiment would be significantly amplified with a son, because it would involve the whole “suck it up”, “men don’t cry” and “man of the house” aspect of it. The “it is your duty to protect your mother and sister when I’m gone” too, especially because he couldn’t protect Izayoi himself.

• It’s “tough love”, but it’s love nonetheless. And in the right dose, which I believe Inuyasha manages to nail, it can be very important for one’s development and growth.

• But it’s hard to imagine him being as tough with a daughter. Probably because he sees so much of Kagome on her that the mere idea of seeing her cry simply breaks him.

• Kagome would actually have to step in when it comes to disciplining and saying “no”, because he simply wouldn’t have it in him to do so.

There’s actually a really nice post by @keichanz I reblogged a while ago discussing precisely that, but I can’t find it to save my life (should I start to properly tag my reblogs? No, it’s a lot of work and I’m right not to).

Anyway, that’s all I got for now.

Peace out.

#This ask was actually sitting on my inbox for...#Woof #A while now #And I wish I could say it was a big move on my part to wait and reply exactly on Father's Day #Because I'm just so cool methodic and strategic #But it was sheer dumb luck #LMAO #This was fun by the way #Send me YOURS daddyasha headcanons #Thank you for the patience and for the great ask anon #Inuyasha

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rightsockjin · 3 years ago

Text

Summary: Your best friend of your near entire life has been a total asshat to you ever since you started to casually date which didn't seem super fair to you since he did the exact same thing and you were nothing but supportive! It just sucks that you two are growing apart over a coping mechanism that you adopted to distract yourself from your overwhelming crush on said idiot. If only he knew. Wait- did you say that OUT LOUD?

Rating: M (What isn't on this blog?)

Genre: Maybe a little angst? Smut for sure tho.

Word count: 8003

Warnings: Thongs, sex, lewd thoughts, erections, physical pushing, raw dogging, cream pie, mentions of giving head, a looooooottt of swearing, mentions of slut shaming. Oh right- oppa kink and little splashes of korean as well.

yeo-chin= girlfriend

nam-chin= boyfriend

halmoni= grandma

apa=to hurt

aya=expression to express pain equivalent to 'ow'

Author’s note: HI EVERYONE! We are somewhat back!! So sorry for the long wait for content. Things have been insane and we’ve been working on a much- much longer fic for this blog which will involve all of the boys! It’s a long story but this hit me like a truck yesterday and it was initially meant to be a reaction but I couldn’t stop writing… so it’s 7k and the other boys will get their own version of this prompt “best friend is jealous of the attention you give to guys” thing. Starting once again with the one and only Yoongi! Hope y’all enjoy:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know it’s funny, I don’t remember asking,” Yoongi said virulently, his attention centered solely on his phone as he scrolled through instagram... or twitter... or maybe it was tinder. Your heart sank. You had been excited that this guy- Woojin- had given you attention. He was good looking by a lot of standards and it had boosted your confidence significantly. Of course, you wanted to share that excitement with your best friend. Rejecting someone that good looking always made you feel really powerful and attractive but you had barely shown him Woojin’s picture and commented on how attractive he was before your so called best friend had brushed you off and went back to his solitude and avoidance.

You had noticed that something was off for a while now but hadn’t commented on anything to avoid any conflicts but this was ridiculous. You had constantly listened to the stories of how girls would trickle in like water for him. He seemed to be going out with someone new every two weeks.

It wasn’t fair that you had to put up with his annoying descriptions of how beautiful these girls were while you sat and gave him your undivided attention as your heart slowly chipped and broke with each new conquest of his. Especially when each girl was so different from who you were. At first, you thought that maybe you were annoyed by this simply because it was hurtful to think he didn’t at least think you were pretty. It wasn’t long after that that you realized that it hurt you when he went out with women who were your polar opposite because it meant that he would never date you.

This had been shocking in itself. You had known Yoongi for your entire life, or at least a good portion of it, and you had always seen him as a brother. Your oppa in the least sexual or boyfriend-y form possible, but when you looked at him now… he was looking a lot more like well- an oppa.

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish. His words stung more than you would like to admit. Whenever Yoongi got this snippy, you liked to equal him in snip and double him in sass, never showing how vulnerable his disinterest made you feel, but this time, it felt like he had punched you in the chest with all his force and told you you were ugly to boot.

You didn’t want to cry in front of him either. He’d make fun of you. Last time you had cried, he’d awkwardly pat you on the head and quickly changed the very serious topic of your parents' relationship with yours to something totally different and not even a little relevant to helping you feel better. Given, that had been years ago and he’d never been very good at comforting you nor had he so much as expressed his support of you. Not since that one time when you had broken your wrist and he’d promptly pushed the girl who had been the culprit off the swing set thus getting himself suspended for a week and a half when you were both in elementary school.

But this… this was just cruel. It was ugly. It made you look at your “best friend” in a light that was not so shiny and pristine. He’d changed so much since then. He’d pulled away from you since then and you hadn’t even noticed. Or maybe you had and had just ignored it. Maybe you’d hoped if you didn’t mention it, that it would go away and he would come back full force with one of his dumb dances and pretty smiles. Maybe you hoped he’d realize soon what you had realized in your early twenties.

You loved him. And not the brotherly love that you had always had for him, no, you, Y/N, were very much in love with your best friend. Which made this whole situation so much worse.

When you said nothing, Yoongi briefly glanced up at you from his seemingly important phone conversation with most likely another of his soon to be dates only to look back down.

“What? Cat got your tongue? No snippy rebuttal? You’re not gonna chew me out for being mean to you again?”

His face was illuminated by the blue lights of his screen; he had it at the near darkest setting and his eyes were squinted to see it better. Something that had always annoyed you because you knew it was only hurting his vision.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. When that didn’t help, you cleared it, accidentally catching his attention. He clicked his phone off and looked over at you as if ready to argue but something in your face must have given away your inner turmoil because his hard features softened and his lips fell slightly open.

“Are you crying?”

No. Of course you weren’t crying. You never cried. Not ever. But then your cheeks were wet and the onslaught of emotion seemed to burst. How far had you fallen for this indefinitely cold man that his sarcasm made you fall in hysterics? Far it seemed. Too far.

You angrily wiped the tears away from your burning skin and crossed your arms over your chest. The hoodie you had stolen from him earlier that day felt like sandpaper against your skin as opposed to the comfort you’d initially felt when slipping over your head and smelling the fresh scent of his cologne clinging to it.

You felt him shift on the couch to face you fully, out of the corner of your eye, you could see his features had turned worried, alarmed even but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him nor care. Too little too late.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m sorry.”

The words hung in the still air like a wrong note played in a symphony. It made your head spin and ache.

You didn’t dare speak. It would only give away how truly hurt you were by his words and actions. You didn’t want to be around him anymore.

Abruptly, you stood up and yanked the hoodie from your body. The tank you had on pulled up slightly showing the skin of your belly. It was lopsided, you noted when you looked down and saw that one side was pulled over and under your bra and the other was too high on your chest but you didn’t really care.

Yoongi watched you with conflict evident in his eyes, if only you would turn to see. He hadn’t meant to offend you. He’d only been trying to keep you at arms length. You had also been going out with multiple guys, telling him how good looking and tall they all were. Most of these men were also built like rocks and he himself was toned at best. Contrary to what you thought, Yoongi had come to the realization that he’d been in love with you since you were kids. He did not tolerate when anyone made you feel like shit, and, being a very mature kid, he’d told his mother quite early on that he would marry you someday. Of course, she’d only chastised him and told him that he couldn’t possibly know what love was nor could he force you to marry him, but he was adamant.

He’d stopped telling her about it after that though, and instead of telling you how he felt, he’d opted instead to watch over you and make sure nothing happened. So when in high school, you had started to date and it had not been him whom you had chosen, he’d made sure to keep the sorry excuse of a man you had chosen in line. That was… until the incident.

Yoongi would never forgive himself for not being there. For not stopping the bastard who thought he owned you. He’d never forgive the idiot either and if you hadn’t stopped him, he would have killed him with his bare fists then stuffed his own socks in his mouth.

It was then that Yoongi realized that you deserved better than him, and at the same time, no one was worthy of you. It was a strange dynamic. He’d never once approved of your dates, but had decided to start dating other women because, let's face it, he was a guy and he’d like to have children someday but not even in his wildest dreams could he think that you would ever settle for him. Someone who’d failed you as your self imposed protector.

Not that you knew any of that. You didn’t know that Yoongi often teamed up with your other best friend, your girl best friend to scope out your dates once you’d left. You’d almost caught them once as well and it had been by pure luck and the hair of a very out of place clown that both of them had escaped your wrath that night. You also didn’t notice that after you had fully broken up with that first asshole, he’d threatened to beat him to a pulp if he so much as breathed in your direction once more and later, he’d threatened ‘asshole’ two and three with the same things.

But then your dates had gotten taller and stronger and much harder to intimidate. He’d once made the mistake of threatening a casual date that you’d set up who was at least a solid half foot taller than him and he’d been laughed out of the restaurant only to find out later that the jerk had forced a kiss on you.

No, Yoongi’s days as your protector had dwindled and left him feeling half of the man he’d already thought he was and so his only defense, his only way to keep you safe- though now that he was watching tears well in your eyes he wondered what logic he’d used to justify this behavior- was to be the asshole himself and teach you how to deal with them on a first hand basis.

He hated himself for making you cry. He hated that you looked so dejected and hurt and like you never wanted to speak another word to him again. He hated that your shoulders slumped and that your pretty eyelashes were coated in wet tears and it was all on him.

“You know what,” you finally managed to say with some semblance of calm under the storm that was brewing in the irises he’d so loved, “I think we’ve grown apart a little too much. Maybe we should just- cut our losses and,” you heaved a deep breath, trying to keep yourself calm, “stop seeing each other.”

Were you breaking up with him? How were you even going to break up with him if you weren’t even dating? Yoongi’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach. He had tunnel vision. All he could see was you and the way that you seemed to pull yourself up from the ground, rebuilding before his eyes.

“Stop see-what? Are you demented?”

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Was that all he was capable of being? Wrong. Incorrect. Inexact. Erroneous. Mistaken. He was plain stupid for the words he’d let slip but there was no taking them back now.

You let your eyes widen as you wiped more of your furiously falling tears from your skin. You turned to face him, your shirt fixed and covering you exactly how it should and your features set and intentional.

“What’s the point? You clearly don’t want to be around me anymore and I’m tired of being berated every time I mention a guy. You’re the most unsupportive friend I have and that’s because I’ve known you the longest. If you don’t want to be my friend just say so instead of slut shaming me and bullying me every chance you get you asshat.”

“Asshat,” he chuckled, crossing his sleeve-covered arms over his toned chest, “real clever, Y/N. Is that all you got, kid? You never were one for words were you? Why don’t you just sock me instead?”

Oh you were considering it. He seemed so unbothered by the prospect of losing you that you realized maybe you had already lost him and hadn’t realized. You had dealt with your fair share of jerks in your life, but you had always counted on Yoongi to be your hope. He’d shown you that there were men in the world that seemed to care about women. Men who could love you even when you felt unlovable, unworthy, but here he was, proving to you once again that all men were the same evil and vile creatures, incapable of love or kindness if they weren’t getting their dicks wet.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Then you could go around saying that I’m a crazy bitch. You know what? Fuck you Min Yoongi. I hope you get well and royally fucked.” You yelled, grabbing the tote bag you’d brought over from your apartment and stomping to the door.

“Fuck you too,” he yelled, following you to the door. He caught you at the landing strip, prying on your chunky sneakers with a bit of difficulty, your house slippers, the ones he’d bought you, lay haphazardly nearby.

“And fuck all of those asshole guys you keep bringing home. Better yet, I hope you don’t fuck them.”

You turned your head up to look at him, confusion and disgust written all over your face.

“What the fuck do my dates had to do with what a fucking jerk you are?”

Choosing to ignore your question, he focused instead on your insult, “A jerk, am I? Well you’re a bitch. How do you like that?”

He didn’t know why he was insulting you. He didn’t think you were actually a bitch, but the anger on your face made him feel better.

It was followed by near instant regret as you drew yourself up to your full height and looked at him with pure venom in your gaze.

“I’m a bitch?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, trying to keep his shoulders square, but you were scary when angry and he’d never fared well in fights with you.

“I’m the bitch?”

“You heard me!”

You balled your fists at your sides, your eyebrows connected in the center and your breathing was heavy. He knew better than to use the B-word.

“You’re a piece of shit.” It was low but your voice carried and hit all of the bones in his body before it hit his heart and burrowed deep in the wounds he’d stitched up but pulled open multiple times over the years that pertain only to you.

“You are a sorry excuse of a man,” you growled, pushing him by the chest. Somewhere in the back of your mind you noted that it felt really firm and stronger than before.

“You’re an ass, Min Yoongi,” you continued, giving him another push so that he stumbled slightly back into the living room of his apartment once again.

“You low life,” another push, closer to the couch, “weak minded,” you shoved him, he sidestepped the glass coffee table where your untouched coffee mugs still rested, probably cold by now, “son of a bitch, fucking baby, involved sorry excuse of a man-” He fell onto the cough. Your vision was red.

“You already used that insult.” Was all he said as you stood over him, your chest heaved with the exertion of trying to keep yourself from slapping the now blank expression from his face.

A slew of incomprehensible noises escaped from your lips as words completely left your brain. Damn him. Damn this idiot of a man that you were in love with. He could go to hell for all you cared and you hoped that the devil himself ripped his testicles off and served them on a platter with some kimchi and fried rice.

“Okay first of all- ow,” The asshole said, pulling you back to reality and not your fictitious rework where Yoongi was now sitting at the end of a long table being force fed his own balls, “And second…”

You held your breath. Fear ran down your spine. You hadn’t meant to say that out loud-

“You-you’re in love with me?”

Well… he got his wish, you were royally fucked. Instantly, you tried to back track. Your mind kept replaying in your head what you had said and tried to correct itself but you couldn’t think of anything that could possibly absolve you.

“Like a brother,” you said finally, your voice shaky and thin.

Yoongi only blinked up at you. What you said was bullshit and he knew it. You knew it too.

“You’re in love with me… like a brother?”

“Oppa,” you clarified as if that would somehow make more sense, and it did kind of, but it didn’t absolve you at all. In fact, this only made a smile tug at his lips, his pearly teeth suddenly on display, blinding. You fought the smile that threatened to pull at yours too. It was always hard because his smile was so contagious.

Yoongi stood. He was less than an inch away from your own body. You felt small, meek. You’d misstepped this big game of chess you seemed to be playing. He was going to make fun of you. He’d never let you live it down. You liked him.

“You like me,” as if he had read your mind, he echoed your thoughts, or maybe you had spoken that out loud as well.

“No I don’t,” you argued, taking a step back just so you could have some space to breathe.

“Oh yeah you do,” Yoongi argued, his smile so wide you were sure it would hurt the muscles in his cheeks

“No,” you said again, not really thinking anything you said at this point would convince him otherwise. The son of a bitch was stubborn.

“Admit it,” he said, closing the distance between you again, his neck craned down to look directly at your face.

“I don’t like you!” You tried to take another step back but the coffee table knocked your feet out from under you. You fell onto it knocking Yoongi’s mug of coffee over. The black decaf liquid seeped into your shorts.

Yoongi’s rusty laugh was pried from his throat as he watched your face contort. He was having the time of his life, it seemed. Good for him.

“Stop laughing at me,” you groaned, your cheeks red. You were practically sweating from how feverish you felt.

It was like you hadn’t spoken. Your shorts were wet and made you feel sticky. In a fit of anger, like a child throwing a tantrum, you unbuttoned the denim and ripped them from your legs. This shut Yoongi up instantly. With the soiled fabric, you cleaned up the liquid before it fell onto the light grey carpet.

Yoongi stilled as his eyes traveled up and down your long legs.The way you were twisting, he could see the back of your left thigh up to where it met your ass- your bare ass. You were wearing a thong.

God help him, he was rapidly getting hard. He forced his eyes away from you, his walls being pulled back up at seeing you naked. Well partially so. He pushed his hands into his oversized hoodie and made sure that it covered his front. The last thing he needed was for you to see.

But then you turned and pulled your legs together, your thighs squishing attractively. What he wouldn’t give to be choked by those thighs.

“Let me wash those for you,” he said tightly, pulling a hand from his hoodie to take the soiled shorts, the hem of the fabric pulled up enough for you to see exactly what he’d been trying to hide.

Yoongi had a hard on. You weren’t sure why exactly you were surprised. You were attractive, that much you knew, but you never really expected for your best friend to see you in that way. In fact, you were pretty sure that you’d been in your underwear in front of him before and he hadn’t even given you a second glance, but there was the evidence. And God was there a lot of evidence.

Slowly, you handed him the shorts. His hand grabbed them tightly, avoiding touching any part of your hand with his. Then, after a slight pause, he turned on his heels and walked towards the kitchen to put the shorts into the washer.

You’d called him oppa. You rarely called him oppa and it had hypersensitized him to the word coming from your lips. Other girls called him oppa sometimes and it had no effect on him but there he was, stiff as a board and it had something to do with you calling him oppa and your state of undress. Fuck. He was fucked. So fucked.

At least he wished he could be… But no. He pushed those thoughts from his head as he threw in some nice scented soaps into the wash and clicked it to life. He shut his eyes, trying to think of anything that would drain the blood from his member- halmeoni maybe?- but your voluptuous ass kept intruding, giving his halmeoni some nice curves that messed with her wrinkled face. He shook his head once more and decided he’d just have to hide his boner until it went away, or go beat one out in the restroom really quick.

He grabbed a pair of his clean sweat pants from the drying rack to give to you, just so you would be comfortable, he told himself, not because the thought of your naked butt in them made him unspeakably horny.

But when he got back to the living room, what he found was not you, covering yourself with a pillow like he’d expected, but you, only in your thong- fuck did it have to be a thong?- and your bra. Your shirt was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck me,” he groaned, burring his head in his hands and turning away from you.

“I mean, if you ask nicely enough that can be arranged,” you answered rather boldly. There was no way for him to know that you were quaking in fear for his rejection.

Yoongi’s dick twitched in his sweats.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said under his breath as his heart beat faster. He felt like he was having a whole heart attack. He patted his chest, hoping to calm it down knowing it was useless.

Should he go for it? You had just admitted accidentally that you did have feelings for him and you were clearly propositioning him. Should he just-

He turned around, back to face you, determination paining his expression. Still on the coffee table, your legs were spread open, only covered by the thin sliver of fabric that your thong allotted. You were a little cold, but all of that melted away when you saw the way that Yoongi’s eyes roamed your exposed body, then stopped abruptly to meet your own.

He was in front of you in seconds, his longer legs carried him farther and faster than you had anticipated. Then he was pulling you to stand. You wobbled on your legs but one of his arms found its way around your waist. His free hand came up and held your jaw with two fingers on either side of your face, squishing your lips together slightly. His hot, heavy member pressed against your stomach through his sweats. He was so close that you could smell the coffee on his breath and the fading smell of his cologne you loved so much. All you wanted was to grind against him but you were held too tightly.

“You never know when to shut up do you?” But he didn’t let you answer. He crashed his soft lips onto yours, his hold on your jaw ached but you didn’t care. There was a passion in his kiss that you hadn’t expected, subtly dwindling to something more like tenderness, and the kiss continued. His lips dragged against yours delicately, pinching your top one with both of his. Small breaths came out of his nose, whistling softly against your cheek. You timed your breaths with his, high on the feeling of finally being kissed, coveted by him. Was it real? Was this actually happening?

Your brain suddenly caught up with your body. The rightness that came with the way he was kissing you, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he needed you to properly breathe, was like nothing you could have imagined.

The hand on your waist was drawing small circles where the elastic of your thong rested, his index finger casually hooked onto and under pulling lightly. You pressed yourself tighter than he had you against his erection. He groaned, his mouth opening and his tongue suddenly darting out to taste. He pulled your jaw open, granting himself entrance and exploring your mouth.

You moaned, a sound so sensuous and wanton that Yoongi felt that he could cum just from those sounds alone. He wanted more. He wanted you to sing his praises as he fucked into you and caressed your chest. He wanted you to drool around his cock and to have your sweet mouth wrapped tight around it. He wanted to feel you gag at his girth and he wanted to pull at your hair. But most of all, he wanted to kiss you, just like how he was at that moment. He wanted to kiss you until he’d taken your soul from your body and replaced it with his own. He wanted to kiss you until he could erase every trace of all of the men who’d hurt you and made you doubt that you were worthy and wanted. Yoongi wanted to kiss his love into you no matter how long he had to do it. If he was locked in a room with you for months, so be it.

But your hand had found its way between your bodies and was slowly coming down to his hips. Suddenly, he realized what he was doing and panicked. He hadn’t gotten your consent. He hadn’t asked you if it was okay for him to kiss you or to hook his fingers on your thong. As stupid as it sounded, even to Yoongi himself, he needed to make sure that you wanted this to happen, even as your hand had found the outline of his cock and you had started to trace the outline of it over the fabric-

“Tell me to stop,” he gasped, ripping himself away from you. The hand around your waist was now on your shoulder to keep you at enough distance so that his brain could function and wasn’t clouded by the horniness he was feeling.

“Wha…?” You slurred, your eyes were glazed over and your body was completely relaxed.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeated, fighting his every instinct to push your mouth open and have you suck on his thumb before he pushed you onto your knees to suck him off, “and I will.”

His eyelids were heavy and he was sweating slightly. He was so hard that it hurt and the circles you were drawing on his penis were not helping at keeping him at bay. He knew if he looked down, there would be a stain of precum on his sweats.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, leaning in and kissing his jaw before you nibbled and kissed down his taught neck.

“Fuck.”

“I want you to fuck me.” You licked a thick swipe up his jugular, “I want you.”

“Then admit it,” Yoongi heard himself say. He was just as surprised as you were to hear those words from his lips, “admit that you like me.”

You pulled away then, dropping both your arms in exasperation, “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m in my underwear, stroking your cock and you want me to stroke your ego too? Un-fucking-believeable. You’re a dumb ass.”

You rolled your eyes and flicked his forehead.

“Aya, apa~” he groaned, rubbing his head, the dynamic that you were used to suddenly restored.

“Yeah? Great! I’m glad that it hurt! I hope it hurts really bad you jerk. Then maybe you’ll understand what it was like for me to listen to you go on and on about all the girls you went out with every fucking week. In fact-”

“Aya! What the fuck? Stop flicking me,” he nearly screamed, clutching the tip of his nose.

“Make me.”

Big mistake. Yoongi didn’t take your dare lightly. His eyes darkened then he leaned down and picked you up. You squeaked, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walked you to his room. His hands cupped your butt fairly comfortably, like this was something you did often. He kicked the door open and threw you on the bed.

“You think I wasn’t hurt as well?” He asked, clasping a hand around your neck and lightly pressing his fingers against your skin.

“You think I like knowing that everywhere we go, men are watching you, coveting you the way I do? You think it isn’t torture when you go out and I don’t hear from you until the next day?”

He pushed you up against his pillow. The duvet was already all messed up under your body. He was between your legs, pressing himself into your core. Fuck, you wanted him. You wanted him all the way inside you. He wanted nothing more than to do the same but he had to make sure you knew first.

“You think it was easy being in love with you when you wanted nothing from me but friendship?”

Your eyes softened. Yoongi was in love with you too? When?

“Since we were kids,” he answered. Again you had spoken without meaning to. “I always knew it was you, Y/N. It was only ever you.”

But something wasn’t adding up. You fought your rising feelings of elation. You wanted to understand what he was saying. If he had liked you since you were kids then why had he never asked you out? Why become the serial dater he’d become? But he’d never had a girlfriend, you reminded yourself. He’d only ever “dated” and then dropped these women. You always assumed he was screwing them all.

Yoongi became sheepish then. “I uh… I did have sex with some of them but-” and the hurt in your eyes would be enough to kill him,” it was only at the start. I thought that if i had sex with other people I’d stop chasing after you. But it didn’t work… I haven’t slept with anyone since junior year of college.”

Your eyes widened. “College?”

He nodded, his pale cheeks blushing prettily.

“They just...were never you… and then I thought if I pushed you away that would help but that only made us estranged and-”

You pushed yourself up and shut him up with a kiss. He was over thinking and you could talk about all that later.

“You’re an idiot,” you started and he rolled his eyes, “but if you don’t fuck me right now, I’m going to do it myself.”

Yoongi’s eyes rolled into his head and he thrust lightly into your wet center.

“Talk after?”

“As long as you want,” you agreed, already pushing at his sweats. Yoongi sat up and pulled his hoodie and shirt off in one fell swoop, then, at the speed of lightning, pulled off his sweats, leaving him in his boxers.

After a moment of hesitation, he pulled his boxers off as well and then he was naked before you. Your mouth went dry. He was big. You could tell just by looking at him that he would stretch you good and you wanted so badly for him to pin you down and have his way with you.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“Really? Cause that would be really helpful on days when I’m home alone-”

“Wha-no!”

You chuckled and lay down on your back, making sure that your legs were spread wide for him to have his fill. Like a moth to a flame, he was between your thighs, his tongue licking at the wet fabric.

He moaned against your covered lips, sucking up the arousal that clung to your underwear.

“Fuck, Yoongi yes,” you said without meaning to say much at all. You unclasped your bra and threw it somewhere in the room. You could look for it later. This caught his attention. He thrust his naked dick into the mattress, needing some sort of stimulation.

“Damn it… fuck, if I wasn’t so desperate to be inside you, I swear I could get you off with just my mouth all day, Y/N.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved off, gesturing for him to come up to your face, he did so without question, “Hurry up, I’m dying. Please.”

“Are you begging?” Yoongi’s lips curled lightly, teasingly,

“Do you want to get your dick wet or not?” He kissed the wrinkle between your eyebrows lightly.

“Yeah, can I take these off?” he hooked a finger on the elastic of your thong, pulling it a little higher than he probably should have. It was an old pair. You heard rather than saw the stitching on it pull apart and then the thing was hanging limply from Yoongi’s fingers, his expression shocked.

“Yoongi!”

“What? I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“For fuck’s sake! That was my favorite thong!”

“Well, clearly it was cheap,” he countered, throwing it across the room somewhere too.

You groaned, shifting slightly under him. His dick nuzzled between your wet lips. His mouth dropped open and a pleasured grunt escaped his lips.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rut against your wetness, hitting your clit lightly, far too lightly, “you are so wet. God, this should be illegal.”

“Y-Yoongi… more,” he reached down between you two and found your sensitive nub without much hassle. It was like he knew your body already. Your body twitched under him and he circled the bundle of nerves for a couple of seconds. The noises falling from your lips were heaven on earth and Yoongi realized you were his new favorite song.

He gave your clit one rough stroke, ripping a small gasp from your throat. He gathered some of your slick with two practiced fingers and brought it up to eye level. It caught the low light of his room from the window, the smell enough to threaten to send him over the edge.

“Jesus Christ that’s hot.” Then he smeared it all over his penis and gave himself two rough pumps.

“Can I-”

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I’m asking-”

“Don’t care. Just do it. Yes.” You said angrily, pulling him closer and closer, his toned chest flush against yours.

“Have you been working out?” You asked, breaking the intense way he was staring into your eyes, his smile pulled wide over his gums.

He shrugged but clearly was glad that you’d noticed, “Namjoon and Jungkook convinced me to join them in the gym. It’s no big deal.”

“But your arms,” you complimented, squeezing his bicep. He flexed it lightly for you. You blushed when you realized exactly what you were doing.

“It’s just a little muscle,” he commented offhandedly.

The conversation lulled, he smiled down at you, and you up at him. He kissed the tip of your nose.

“So can I put it i-”

“I already said yes.”

“In your ass?”

“Ew no!”

Yoongi laughed loudly, “see this is why you can’t say yes to something without knowing what you’re agreeing to.”

“Shut up and put it in the right hole,” you groaned, then for good measure, “oppa.” It was a joke. You thought it was a joke, but something lit up in his pupils as two measly syllables rolled off your tongue and hit his eardrums. You felt his skin prickle under your touch and his member twitched against your folds.

Like a deer caught in headlights, you looked up at the handsome man. His eyes had narrowed as well as darkened. He looked absolutely ravenous and you wanted him to eat you up.

“Say that again.” He commanded as he pushed the head of his massive, and now that you could properly feel it, you knew that you had been right, cock at the entrance of your lower lips.

“O-oppa?” you questioned, astounded that the simple word that he’d no doubt heard his whole life had this effect on him.

“That’s right yeo-chin,” he growled, his voice gruff and harsh as he pushed lightly into you. His dick opened you painfully, perfectly.

“Yeo-chin?” You ask through the explosion of pleasure between your thighs.

“Is that okay?” He asked, suddenly looking really vulnerable and scared. You reached up, stroking his cheek lightly with your knuckles.

“Oh honey,” you trailed off, bumping his nose against yours before you pulled back abruptly, “If you want me to be your girlfriend, you have to ask me properly.”

Yoongi sighed, his smile telling you he expected as much and wasn’t hurt, “Talk after?” He asked again.

“As much as you want,” you reiterated.

And then he was pushing into you once again, surprising you because you could have sworn you had been full before but inch after inch, he pushed into your awaiting hole, filling all the emptiness you’d felt your whole life until his balls tapped your ass softly.

His face was contorted in pure ecstasy. At least from your perspective. Yoongi, in all truth, was trying his hardest not to blow his load into you already. He couldn’t believe his luck. He was inside you. He’d waited his whole life for this and he was finally inside you.

You wiped a bead of sweat from his temple and playfully licked his lips. He grunted against you, holding himself up by the forearms. Suddenly, he was really grateful that he had started to work out and that Jungkook had him doing three minute planks for fun. He’d have to thank him later, even if he did complain a whole lot.

“Can-can I move?” Yoongi gasped. Your walls fluttered around his member as if welcoming it home with soft caresses. You were so warm, maybe hot, he wasn’t sure, but you were tight and wet and all the good things in the world.

You only breathed, feeling so unbelievably full. It felt like he had pushed in all the way to your throat. You were no size queen, really, you weren’t, but if this is what they were going on about, you understood.

“Y/N,” he panted, his body begging him to move, “please.”

“Are-are you begging?” You giggled mirroring what he’d asked you before.

“Yes.” Without hesitation, he admitted, “Please… please…”

Well fuck. How could you say no? You nodded fervently, all mirth erased from your expression as he pulled out slowly, your juices squelched as your lower muscles tried to keep him in.

“Gah- ash-Y/N… you’re so tight.”

You only moaned in response, the head of his cock was still in you, stretching you to the point you didn’t think anyone could fully make you feel this way again.

“You’re so big,” you complimented scratching at his back. His muscles rippled under your touch.

He pushed back in, still torturously slow. It felt like you were being split in half. You felt like Olaf in the first frozen movie after he got stabbed by an icicle.

“Yoongi,” you gasped as he pulled out again at the same speed, his face screwed up in concentration.

“Oppa,” he growled into your ear, kissing roughly at your skin.

“Oppa,” you agreed, though it wasn’t your favorite word, he seemed to be getting of fairly

well so you let it slide, “move faster.”

“You sure?” He asked.

You nodded, knowing it was probably going to hurt but you wanted to feel him and you wanted him to cum.

“Yes.”

He didn’t need to be told again; he drew back, once again leaving only the mushroom tip inside you once again, and then he thrust. Hard. You nearly choked as he pumped himself over and over again hitting the nerves in your vagina. The slap of skin against yours was loud in the empty room, only accompanied by your moans and his pants and grunts. Your names mixed in every once in a while, your lips kissing any and all the skin that you could possibly reach. He licked at your lips and sucked bruises onto your neck, your chest. He wanted to mark all of you. He wanted to make sure you knew who you belonged to… as soon as he asked you right after he finished up.

This idea itself spurred him on, to thrust faster, deeper. He wanted to finish and make sure that you finished too, not quickly but soon. He wanted to talk. He wanted to make sure that you were in the same place.

So he reached between you both again, his fingers blindly found your clitoris and began to rub abstract shapes into it. Your back arched off the bed, your hair and boobs bounced with each thrust, his balls slapping against your ass. You were seeing white, your mouth wide open in a silent ‘o’. You were so close. So so close.

“Come, Yeo-chin,” he whispered against your temple, and though you weren’t technically his, the title sent you over the edge along with his fingers and the deep thrusts that hit your cervix.

“Oppa,” you groaned, your face screwed up.

That did it for Yoongi. His fingers on your clit stuttered along with his hips. His thrusts became erratic and he hit the sides of your walls. You squeezed around him as he over stimulated you through your orgasm.

“One more time… say it one more time,” he begged.

You complied, whispering it into his ear, it was cut slightly by a particularly pleasurable thrust. Yoongi felt pure euphoria fill his blood as his hips paused, then buried deep into your hole. Ropes of hot cum shot into you, filling you.

Yoongi panted heavily over you, his head resting on your shoulder as he struggled to keep himself up. You were breathing heavily as well, your nipples brushed against his chest. You were sensitive. You hissed.

“You can lay down,” the words had barely left your lips before he had let his weight settle on top of you. A smile crossed your face as his hands tangled in your hair and stroked it lightly. You wrapped him up in a hug, wanting him to stay like this for a while. It was nice to feel him so close.

After a couple of minutes of both of you just recovering and your breathing getting much harder, like a wrestler, you tapped Yoongi twice.

“I’m out,” you joked, “can’t breathe.”

With what looked like a lot of effort, he pushed himself up and off you, pulling out of your suddenly. The cum inside of your vagina gushed out.

You made a face as you felt it drip onto his sheets. Yoongi watched it ooze out of you, not really caring where it was going. He looked mesmerized. He reached out as if to swipe at the cum on your lower lips but you grabbed his wrist before he could.

“We talk now,” you sighed, a bit calmer than before but still a bit worried.

“Now?” He looked so vulnerable again, like he was a scared child. He lay on his side, resting his head on his elbow. He looked down at you, waiting for you to take the reins, the way you always did but this time, you didn’t know where to begin.

Yoongi cleared his throat looking around uncomfortably. When you said nothing, his mind had started to race.

“So… do you… want to be my girlfriend, or are we friends with benefits level right now? Ow!”

You’d smacked his shoulder, not hard at all but he was dramatic and you knew that. He frowned at you, his lips tempting you into another kiss that could lead to something more once again. You were already feeling a little turned on again just looking at the results of his recent gym trips.

“So no to yeo-chin then?”

“Yoongi!”

“Don’t you mean Oppa?”

You smiled up at him, a teasing glint in your gaze, “I didn’t know you had an oppa kink. This whole time, I was right to refuse to call you oppa. I knew you looked way too happy whenever I called you that!”

Yoongi scrunched his nose and looked away, “I don’t! It’s just… when you say it.” He admitted waving a hand as if to bat away your inquisitive and teasing stare.

Not really knowing how to answer that, you chose instead to answer his previous question.

“Nam-chin,” you ran a finger down the center of his pecks, tracing all the light visible muscles that made you want to get off on just riding his chest. Yoongi tensed under your touch. He seemed frozen.

“Did you just call me nam-chin?” You, for once, were not embarrassed. You smiled brightly, happy that the title finally had a head to sit on.

“Is that okay?”

Yoongi pulled you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you, his heart beat erratically in his chest, singing to yours. To its credit, your heart synced and harmonized almost instantly. He smelled like pure sex and fresh water. He buried your face into his bare skin, listening to his song. After all these years, after all the tiptoeing and fear, you were finally where you belonged.

“Of course it is,” he paused, kissing the top of your head a couple of times, “yeo-chin.” This time, the word made a shiver roll down your spine. Arousal began to pool between your sticky thighs once more and if the third leg on your stomach was anything to go by, he was as well.

“Can- can we take a shower?” you asked him, biting your lips and pushing your chest against his suggestively.

He smirked, his mouth watered at the thought of taking you in the shower. He could almost hear your moans echoing in his wet room as he sat you down and ate you out until the water ran cold. Easy clean up even.

“Yes.” he breathed, connecting his lips to yours. You kissed for a while, your lips meshing together lovingly. Yoongi was a good kisser, you realized. He was a good lay as well. And he was cute to boot. Suddenly, he pulled away and picked you up bridal style and walked you to his restroom. He once again kicked the door open to avoid using his hands and walked you through, but this time instead of throwing you down, he set you on the toilet, him on his knees between your pushed open legs.

“I hope you don’t have any plans,” he said, kissing up your thighs and pulling you close to the edge, “because I have all the time in the world and I’m really, really thirsty.”

He ran two fingers over your abused center, collecting his cum and your new arousal. Sure, there were still a lot of things to talk about between you two. Yoongi still wasn’t sure if you fully understood the depth of his feelings nor was he sure if you simply liked him and the slip of the L-word was nothing more than that. A slip. But like he’d said, he had all the time in the world to ask and all the time to make sure he earned you and your trust. He would do anything he could to prove it and some day he would be.

But for now, he was royally fucked by the sinful sounds that escaped your pretty lips and he wanted nothing more than to just enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Masterlist -in case you want to read more....

I hope yall enjoyed it and that this is a good come back after our roast session from permission to dance:)

129 notes · View notes

raziroo · 4 years ago

Text

Cotton Candy

Pairing: Lotor x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Saying "Shit" twice

Word count: 2,076 (yay) (also, I edited this, I still need to update the word count)

Author’s Note: I'm crap at writing dialogues, and this is my first time writing for a gay couple. I'm so sorry if it seems forced or unnatural or shitty. Don't be afraid to call me out.

Story Moodboard!

It’s with a grunt of effort that I manage to lift the carton containing the cotton-candy-maker.

‘Here, dad,’ I say as my dad takes the box from my hands. ‘That’s all?’

‘Yep, that’s all of it. We’ll conquer this carnival with our delicious cotton candy,’ I nod, doing jazz hands while saying the last part. Dad chuckles. I grin.

‘Hey, Honey!’ I turn back, squinting to spot where my other dad is in the crowd of bustling people. Where, where…? Yep, there he is – in his embarrassingly brilliant sunshine yellow and bottle green striped shirt and hot pink trousers, a sharp contrast to his natural bright red hair. Don’t say that it can’t look that bright; you’ll never know just how blindingly bright bottle green can really be until you see the shirt my dad’s wearing. And trust me, he usually dresses in simpler tones; such bland tones that you’d be surprised to know he was capable of wearing colourful hues as well. It’s only that he’s very passionate about his job, and so whenever we set up a booth in fetes such as the current one, he never misses to match the shop logo.

‘Hul-lo, father dearest, how seems to go your day?’

‘Oh, quite lovely, if I do say so.’

‘Well, that’s simply charming –’

‘Alright, enough,’ my other, not redhead dad snaps with an exasperated sort of smile on his visage. You see, my not redhead, a.k.a. brown-haired dad happens to be British. And that means that me and dad would rather paint our teeth blue than to not tease him. ‘You both need to shut it and start helping me with the decorations, now. You know I’m trash at all that.’

‘Aw, now don’t get discouraged,’ I say, patting dad on the back. ‘After all, not everyone can be as blessed as me, can they?’

‘Hey, why don’t you go look around for a bit? You’ve been helping out since before I have.’

‘Yeah, he’s right, pet. You should.’

I huff, rubbing my palms on the fabric of my jeans. ‘You guys sure? I’m not tired, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

‘We’re not worried, we’re just saying you should also get a look, you know? There’s a lot of surprising booths this time around. I mean, there are aliens participating too, so…’

‘Hmm,’ I play with my bottom lip a little, then, ‘yeah, okay. I’ll be back in like, an hour? Forty five minutes? Sound okay?’

‘Sounds great.’

‘Bye, then.’ And with that, I turn on the heels of my Converse, wandering about the pretty stalls and eager children and kissy couples and aliens with curious features.

It really feels bizarre, just how astonishingly fast mankind has accepted the existence of aliens. It seems simultaneously ages and just a day before when conspiracy theorists raged all around the world, presenting baseless theories and concepts as to why and how the three-man squad on the Kerberos mission disappeared. Then came the Galra, bringing along with them global terror – because alien life, intelligent alien life existed and humanity remained oblivious all these millennia, and now they were actually attacking us. It could’ve been, perhaps even was, in some other dimension, the end of Earth. But then a defender appeared; Voltron appeared in all its glory, bringing along with it proof that however much these purple aliens claim that humans are scum of the universe, humans were, in the grand scheme of things, the ones that saved the universe too.

It feels even more puzzling to actually be on a first-name basis with the leader of Voltron; that’s right, I’m personally acquainted with Keith Kogane. It was around six months after him leaving the Garrison did I come across him. He’d been loitering around the neighbourhood, had ended up in a fistfight with some other kids, and along with that a split lip and bruised cheek. I’d been watching. When the fight ended, I (somehow) persuaded him to come along so that I could at the very least provide him with a band-aid.

Long story short, we’d bonded over how our moms were no-shows and how dads were the best and we became surprisingly close friends; the only difference was that after the death of his old man, he lived alone. I’d been adopted by my two current fathers. I told him about how when they’d initially adopted me, I was excruciatingly shy. I wouldn’t even come out of my room except meals. It was only when I came to know that they knew how to make candy floss had I timidly approached them if I could have some, because previously I’d always been grossed out at the thought of having to eat that. I’d overheard this group of kids saying that cotton candy was actually just dyed granny hair, so that’s where that came from.

I love cotton candy now. So much so, that even at the age of twenty-six, I will pout if someone takes some of mine without my permission. As if I’d ever allow them to.

Speaking of Keith, I haven’t seen him in years. We lost all contact when he turned eighteen, and then he went off into space, and even when he came back, I didn’t get a chance to meet him. I bear no ill will, though. He must have formed some close relationships. Our past friendship is comparatively much more trivial.

I spot a booth selling grilled corn. I instantly head there.

As I’m about join the crowd of humans and aliens who also want corn, a familiar call of my name leads me to pull a three sixty.

Lo and behold. Keith Kogane.

Despite him having obviously grown a lot, the face was still the same. I’m sure that, if he gets a split lip and bruise on his cheek right now, he won’t look all that different.

There’s a questioning hesitance on his features; he’s probably wondering if he’s got the right person. My pleasantly surprised smile and raised eyebrows assure him. As I step away from the grilled corn stall, I notice a motley crowd behind him; some are purple, some are holding Voltron plushies, and some look way too curious to be in a carnival. The introduction is going to be fun.

‘Keith! You're gonna live a hundred years - I was just thinking about you. But anyways, it’s – it’s great to see you,’ I say with a little giggle. ‘Though I am kind of surprised you actually approached me. The sixteen-year-old you would never.’

He smiles awkwardly in return. ‘Y – yeah… I, just… oh God, this is – I’m sorry,’ he says, his inner turmoil evident.

‘It’s all good. I know you’re shit at small talk, so… like, introduce me? Maybe?’

He nods rapidly, brows furrowed. ‘Yeah, um,’ he turns to the people behind him, telling them my name, how we met, the whole affair. I give them a wave. Most of them greet me back.

‘And, this is Shiro and Curtis,’ he points to the tall, white-haired yet young man, holding hands with a tanner guy, ‘Lance, Pidge and Hunk,’ he points to a lanky, bright-smiled guy, a buffer, kind-seeming person, and a short chestnut-haired woman who, despite wearing baggy jeans and a baggier tee, looks somehow better dressed than me. ‘Then that’s Allura, Coran, and Romelle, they’re Alteans,’ a woman with enchanting beauty and a regal aura surrounding her, a redhead who’s significantly older than the rest with an impressive moustache, and a youthful appearing girl with a big grin, ‘and Lotor, he’s Galran. The Galran Emperor, in fact.’ Lotor is a tall, lilac-skinned man with aristocratic features who shares the same cheek markings as the Alteans. Oh, and he’s unfairly gorgeous, his hair a luscious mane of white which I just know will be soft. It’s hard not to stare. You remember how I said Allura looked like royalty? Yeah, the way this man carries himself, he has the aura and visage of a God. Even in a white tee-shirt and jeans he looks way better than should be legal.

I rip my eyes away.

‘So…are Noah and Oliver here too? I’d love to see them. I mean, I never did get to thank them to permit a possible criminal to sleep in their house.’

I laugh. ‘Never mind that, but we actually sit up a stall here. I could, you know, maybe even get you guys something to eat.’

‘Free? Please don’t.’

‘It’s nothing, really, just… I don’t know, accept it as a small thank you present for not letting the planet go to shit.’

A bit of thinking. Even after a nod from Shiro, it was Lance who said yes. Good ol’ Keith.

When we reach the stall, my British dad is the only one we find there. He looks up, about to say something to me, when he notices Keith.

‘Dad. You remember Keith?’

‘Your possible criminal friend who turned out to be the saviour of the universe Keith?’

‘That Keith. He wanted to see you.’

‘Oh? Well then,’ he dusts his hands, stands up, and greets Keith. Both of them engage in a conversation.

‘You guys wanna try something?’

‘What do you got?’ asks Pidge.

‘What do we got? Um, we got chocolates, candy, marshmallows, jellybeans, tortilla chips, ice cream, popcorn – butter, cheese, caramel, peri peri – Lays, like, a lot of Lays, and the good old cotton candy. What d’you want?’

So, after providing the humans with two Cream n’ Onion Lays, a pack of tortilla chips, a double scoop of butterscotch and chocolate, a small tub of popcorn, and three cotton candy sticks, I turned to the aliens.

‘I’m assuming you guys aren’t familiar with a lot of this stuff, so you could either pick whatever looks to be good, ask your friends, or I could recommend something. What’ll it be?’

Romelle was the one who asked, ‘What’s ice cream like?’

‘It’s sweet. It’s cold. And it’s like… heaven in mouth.’

‘Ooh. I want an ice cream. The… pink one?’

‘That’s strawberry. You can eat it in a cone, or in a cup.

‘What’s the difference?’

‘Well, the cup you can’t eat. The cone is like a crispy biscuit,’ judging by her face, she didn’t know what biscuit was. ‘I’ll just give you a cone. It’s all on the house, so no worries if you don’t like it.’

I watched eagerly as she licked the ice cream. An unreadable look crossed her face. Then – ‘This is almost as good as Hunk’s cookies!’

‘Really?’ Coran asked, twirling his moustache. ‘Well, then…’ he squinted to read the names of the various flavours. ‘I would like “cookies and cream”. Yes.’ A cone of cookies n’ cream was served.

‘Allura?’

‘Do you have something that isn’t sweet?’ That was a plot twist. I’d have taken her as someone who appreciated sweeter foods.

‘We do. You want spicy?’

‘…Sure.’ Peri Peri popcorn was given and enjoyed.

And last… ‘Lotor. What would you like to have?’

It takes me a lot of will to not laugh at Lotor’s way too analytical expression. ‘What would you recommend?’

‘Me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Out of all this stuff, candy floss is my favourite.’

‘Candy floss… the item that looks simultaneously like a cloud and an old woman’s hair?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I would like a helping of candy floss, then.’

As I hand Lotor a stick of cotton candy, I wait with anticipation for his reaction.

‘How am I supposed to eat this?’

It takes me a moment to process that. ‘Uh, you just… pinch a little of the stuff in between your fingers, then eat it. Or you could just, um, go in directly, which I’m thinking isn’t really your style.’

He narrows his eyes, but follows my instructions nonetheless. Only a second after putting the stuff in his mouth, Lotor purrs.

Everyone around him, being me, Coran and Romelle (Allura’s off telling Lance how great Earth food is), looks with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Lotor appears as if he’s just died inside. The berry-shaded blush on his face is adorable, though.

'I didn't, like, poison you or something, right?'

'No. It's that... I would never in my lifetimes have expected something so tooth-rottingly sweet to be this delicious.'

'So you're okay?'

‘Yes. In fact, I quite like… this cotton candy.’

I grin.

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fiadhaisteach · 3 years ago

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My spouse & I straddle the Gen "X"/Millenial line (He's the very definition of a Xennial & I'm 4 years older).

13 years ago, I was pregnant and we were both laid off during the '08/'09 recession.

12 years ago we had run through our savings, had an eight month old, were on TANF, receiving SNAP & WIC benefits, & living with my mother in a different state. (We also, later, ended up filing for bankruptcy as our new income would never get us out of the hole we'd gotten into, trying to stay off assistance... don't do that. Use the benefits you have access to.)

We did some math and decided whichever of us found a job first would be the breadwinner and the other would be the homemaker, because there wasn't a job in our rural area that would cover the cost of daycare, let alone a second vehicle.

We were extremely glad we'd done the math and kept a parent at home, even though our house, now, is walking distance from highway bus stops, because it turned out that both kidlets (when we later added a 2nd) would need the extra care. (Frankly, the only reason we were able to buy a house, 7 years ago, is because I'm a disabled veteran in a rural area willing to buy in an "undesirable" location at just the right time so there was zero initial cost and mortgage/taxes/insurance came to about the same as rent. Couldn't do it now.)

I "won" the draw and it actually was pretty good. The prior owner was a shitty boss/supervisor, but an excellent employer (he had to be to retain employees). He provided raises that kept up with the cost of living, plus a little, & offered okay benefits.

When his health failed and he sold the business, the new owners kept all the old employees on, though our benefits were considerably reduced, and in my case, workload near doubled because they didn't see the need for an outside bookkeeper and the old owner's workload was split between me & the new manager, but hey... steady employment. However, within 3 years I was the only one of the "old guard" left and in 6 years have received one, small, raise.

Now, my health has been deteriorating for a couple of decades, but has been getting significantly worse over the last 5 or so years and I'm finding that most of my energy is taken for "work" with very little left for the family, even as I'm falling further and further behind. So my spouse started to make a concerted effort at finding employment.

Even as a white cis-man who has two degrees and a winning personality, with a decade of stay-at-home parentness, it took three years (covid was a factor too), but he was able to find a job (and he does deserve it, never doubt) which should have minimal impact our take-home pay, while allowing me to expend my limited energy at home... and he'll have job/career mobility, where I had none (really, less than none since my wages have been effectively going down vs. cost of living).

Could we, technically, be "better off" if I kept this job? If you only considered income... sure. My spouse can, and will, bus to work (so I can have the vehicle for doctor appointments and picking the kids up from after school clubs), but if I kept working I'd still have no energy left for the family, my spouse would have less simply by virtue of working out of the home, the kids would have to give up after school activities, & everyone would be spending their free time doing all the household things that wouldn't be getting done during the work/school week... so no... not really.

Are we fortunate that we are able to have one parent at home? Absolutely! Though some of that is trade-off, not living where we'd prefer to live (we're both city mice living in the country), and limiting our mobility to a single vehicle & rural public transit. I realize some don't have even that much option, but it's still a choice we had to make.

We also had family to fall back on when we hit rock bottom (a mixed blessing I won't get into here) and used our government benefits to get back on our feet (late, but better than never).

Is there a point to this? *shrugs* Generational crap is crap. The Joneses are probably also trying to keep up with the Joneses, so just do the best for you. Fuck capitalism. Use the benefits you pay for. Take care of your health as best you can. Hair dye is cheap. Count your blessings.

#is this a blog post?#*snort*#long post #i think i just needed to get this out #aisteach family #aisteach posts

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years ago

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Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 11:

“So, what, you’ve just known about your soulmate for over a week? And you didn’t tell me!” Your best friend huffs, slouching into the booth across from you.

The café you had decided to meet Selene in seemed abnormally loud today, but even through the noise you could hear her frustration. And you understood it too- she’d been listening to you fantasize about your soulmate for years now, so much so that it must have gotten annoying. But she listened anyway, and apparently you repaid that favor by not even telling her when your tattoo appeared, nor when you actually met him.

You couldn’t help it though. As much as you wanted to gush about it to everyone, another part of you wanted to keep it a secret. You didn’t wanna share Bakugou yet, as selfish and ridiculous as that sounded.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry; but honestly, it was just super surreal. Like I didn’t know how to talk about it.” You meet her eyes, grateful to see that even through her frustration, Selene still just looked happy for you.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. Had to give you a little shit, but really I’m excited for you.” She takes a sip of her drink, leaning forward on your elbows. “Can I see the tattoo?”

You pale.

It really was an ugly tattoo. Messy and scribbly and poorly drawn, and odd even as far as soulmate tattoos go. Every other person you’d known with a soulmate tattoo - which, granted, wasn’t many- had a name. Even your soulmate himself had your name! But you didn’t. You had his phone number, and no matter which way you thought about it, you couldn’t figure out why that was.

“Yeah, it’s uh, on my collarbone.” You unzipped your jacket, pulling it to the side to reveal the tattoo.

“It’s- it’s, um, not what I expected.”

“That’s what I said. It showed up on my birthday,” You shrugged. “Wasn’t there the night before, but when I woke up it was just sitting there.”

“Why a phone number?” She questions, poking at the mark with a gentle finger. “And why does it look like-”

“Like that?” You chuckle, pushing her hands away and zipping your jacket up once more. “I have absolutely no idea. I’ve never seen anyone else with a phone number before; even Bakugou has my name.”

“Um, who?”

“His name’s Bakugou. My soulmate, I mean.”

“Wait- you talked to him? And you still didn’t tell me? You bitch!” Selene throws her head back, a laugh tumbling out of her lips. “I thought you’d just been hiding the tattoo, I didn’t know you were hiding him too!”

“Shut up- you’re being so loud!”

“I can’t help it! This is just so exciting!”

“Yeah. It is.”

“Y/n,” You watched your friend straighten, a wicked smile crawling across her lips. “What’s that look about, huh, does somebody have a crush?”

You can feel you cheeks and ears flushing, but you don’t say anything. Selene just stares at you, wide manic grin across her face that just seems to make you blush even more. It’s a stalemate until she reaches across the table, poking at your red cheek. You break.

“God, fine, maybe- I don’t know, okay!” You huff, looking down to avoid her eyes. “We’ve talked like everyday since my tattoo came in, but I still feel like I don’t knowing anything about him!”

“Huh-”

“He’s so, like, dodgy- about everything I ask him. It was like pulling teeth just to get his name! And it’s not even his full name! Just his last.” You pulled at your jacket, sinking into your seat. “Bakugou just like, avoids everything I ask him! I’ve told him about my quirk, and what I’m studying, but he won’t tell me anything! He just like gives me a two-word answer or calls me a name- which is fine, I actually find that part funny- but still. He gives me nothing. Absolutely fuck all nothing unless I literally beg for it!”

“Woah, okay, breathe, Y/n. ” Selene holds a placating hand towards you. “Look, I’m sure he has his reasons. I mean, they’re probably shitty reasons since he’s like a 20 year old gu-”

“21.”

“Yeah, okay, since he’s 21, and definitely immature, but they’re still his reasons.”

“Who the fuck cares about reasons? I mean we’re literally soulmates. We’re gonna know everything about each other eventually, so I have no idea why he’s being so cagey! Actually, now that I think about it, it’s really kind of irritating!”

You gasp suddenly, not realizing how involved your rant had gotten. Apparently you were more upset than you realized, or at least significantly more annoyed.

You think back to how you felt yesterday- after you’d read Sunshine at the end of his text. You were light and airy and happy, but all of that seemed to have faded. God, what you wouldn’t give to feel like that now.

Selene waves a hand in front of your face, up and down in front of your eyes until you meet her gaze.

“I get that. I understand where that would come from, but all that really matters is whether or not you like talking to him- do you like talking to him?”

“Yes.” You say simply, surprised by how easy the conclusion was to come to. “I do.”

“Then don’t stress, sweetie.” Selene pats your hand. “Tell me about the things you do like.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Your smile is small, timid, unsure, but you find the words come easy. “I like that he’s funny- and that he swears a lot. And that might be even more funny, because sometimes I’ll look at my texts and I swear it’s like there’s a 12 year old on the other end.”

Selene just smiles, nodding to urge you on.

“I like that he gets super shy if I say anything nice to him- it’s like he freezes up and just swears everywhere and types in all caps.” You feel your cheeks heating up as you speak, but that doesn’t stop you. “I like that he’ll text me if I don’t text him- and that he responds fast when I do. And I like that he’s blunt- there’s less words for me to get anxious over that way.”

“Alright. I’ve decided.”

“Excuse me?”

“I like him for you.” She shrugs. “And I have good opinions so don’t argue.”

“But he still-”

“Yeah, I get it. But at the end of the day he’s still your soulmate, right?” She leans forward, tapping your forehead. “So stop overthinking it. You wouldn’t have that tattoo if he wasn’t supposed to be good for you.”

“Yeah.” You feel the sudden urge to hug her, overcome with yet another reason why you loved her so much. “I was being sort of ridiculous wasn’t I?”

“No, not ridiculous. It’s a valid complaint.”

You nod.

“He does need to start telling you more, especially if you’re already telling him about you.” Selene brushes her hair back with an errant hand. “But I also think you tend to fixate on reasons to leave instead of looking for reasons to stay- and I’m not gonna let you do that this time.”

You just look up at her, finding nothing but Selene’s gentle smile.

It hits you then that she’s right. You did always search for the bad instead of making your own good. With relationships. With friendships. Even with school- but she was right. You couldn’t do that this time. It wouldn’t just affect you, it’d affect Bakugou too.

“Hey, I love you, you know?” You suddenly tell her.

“I know. You’re my ride or die, bitch, of course you do.” She laughs. “Now c’mon, lets go actually order, and you can let me read through all those texts you were talking about.”

“No!”

She just laughs, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the register.

--/--

Later that night you’re sitting with your phone in hand, nerves making a tangled mess of your insides.

You were stalling.

There was a part of you, a big part of you that just wanted to ask him. Ask him about his full name, and his quirk, and his job, or his school if that’s where he was- about his life, and just not take no for an answer. Wanted to needle and pry and be annoying until you had one fact about him to match every one you’d already given him about yourself.

But there was another part of you too. Another part that wanted to see him call you Sunshine and keep him happy instead of possibly irritating him. And that part was screaming just as loud.

You groaned, setting your phone down once again, and rolling onto your side. Your eyes caught on to the TV. You’d switched it on earlier, hoping the background noise of the local news could help settle your nerves, but it didn’t work. As of now though, you were quickly held captive by the footage you saw.

On screen was a recap of a battle that had occurred a few days ago- and it didn’t look good. The villian was terrifying; a black, oozing mass of tar that seemed to swallow people and objects whole. It was running a rampage through the city, it’s undeniable strength completely unchallenged by the police force- until suddenly? An explosion. Multiple explosions. Big, loud, noisy explosions and chaos and bright light until the villain was shot clean through with a grenade blast. The villain fell, engulfed by a cloud of smoke and debris.

You watched as the smoke cleared from the camera footage, only seeing the vaguest outline of a man before they were jetting offscreen by the force of their own explosions.

“Burgeoning pro-hero Dynamite yet again saving the day, and then quickly leaving the scene.” The newscaster announced, voice drowning out the sound of the disaster footage.

The scene switches as the fight recap footage ends. The usual roundtable of reporters is shown instead, and they quickly begin discussing the fight.

“It’s not altogether surprising,” A woman says. “In fact, it’s almost better if he leaves, don’t you think? I mean, surely no one’s forgotten what happened in Hosu right?”

Another reporter winces. “Yep, definitely not. Even a year out from the incident it’s still hard to see him in the same light as before.”

You shift on your bed, suddenly scared half to death by the loud sound of your phone hitting the floor.

Fuck.

Even after the quick break, you still couldn’t decide what to say to him.

Luckily, he didn’t let you worry about that for much longer.

#katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bnha fic #mha fic #bakugou soulmate textfic #bakugou soulmate au #mha soulmate au

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falloutjay · 4 years ago

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Wait, you are my hero? - Kenny x Reader

This is my first ever published x Reader fanfiction ever and I tried my best.

Just as a disclaimer, its not fully proofread, so I am already sorry for that and English also isn’t my first language so sorry again. I hope you guys do enjoy it tho.

______________________________________

Kenny McCormick/Mysterion x Reader

You walked around South Parks nightlife district, the so called "SoDoSoPa" with your good friend Bebe, when you heard a loud sound from a few streets away. People were running and screaming, some were on their phone calling the police. Curiously, you ran towards the noise, like some others.

"YN, stay here! That's too dangerous!" Bebe called, while she sprinted after you. Coming closer to where fires were already rising, you saw him.

"It's me! Professor Chaos! Scream like the little ants you are!" Professor Chaos was a super villain that had been terrorizing the town for quite a while now. He and General Disarray were feared individuals that only cared about creating chaos and nothing more. But he was not the reason you and others remained here, while most people would leave. People like you stayed for the Professors sworn enemies. The superheroes that protected this town. There weren't many, especially good ones, but one in particular made your head spin, when you heard his name.

"YN please. Let us leave. It's dangerous!" Bebe pleaded looking around the street. Professor Chaos had blown up a construction side and the fires where ravaging among the building. He stood on top of it laughing like a maniac with Disarray be his side.

"We can't leave. I want to see him."

"You're insane!" Bebe said again and looked around, obviously distressed.

"Come on, where are you." You whispered and your hand clutched onto your phone.

You hope to finally snap a picture of him personally instead of always cutting out the imagines in the newspaper or magazines.

People were still screaming when a roaring sound broke through.

Your eyes grew wide and you pressed record on your phone, holding it in the direction of the sound. A purple motorbike came around the corner and the person on it looked just as amazing as you imagined. His purple cape moved beautifully behind him, when he pulled off a sick drift and stopped the bike.

Mysterion, the most badass and beloved hero arrived. You worshipped this man.

In your opinion he was simply amazing. He was strong, courageous, and not afraid to die. You were so busy drooling over this hero, that you didn't noticed Bebe shaking your arm and screaming about the fire. Then a second hero arrived.

The somewhat hated "Coon".

He stood there, somewhat out of breath while screaming at Mysterion. "Ah, Mysterion, my arch enemy." Professor Chaos laughed evilly and pointed at him from the top of the building.

"I'm here too Chaos!" The Coon screamed. Professor Chaos didn't even give him a glace and just waved his hand, while he laughed.

"Today, I will put an end to your hero career Mysterion." "Oh yeah? I'd love to see that." The purple clothed hero retorted cockily and laughed. “Stop ignoring me for fucks sake!” The Coon screamed angrily, stomping his foot on the ground.

"We will see who will be laughing at the end. Disarray!" Professor Chaos screamed and suddenly you felt yourself being pulled.

You screamed before a hand was put over your mouth. You managed to turn your head a little bit and catch a glimpse of the right-hand man of Professor Chaos, General Disarray. "I have someone, Professor!" He called out to the gigantic seeming blonde and he laughed evilly once more.

"I have a hostage, Mysterion. Now your chances are significantly smaller than ever!" He laughed again and thunder struck behind him.

"Mysterion?" He called out, after he noticed that the hero was nowhere to be seen. You felt yourself getting pushed around a lot and heard some fighting noises before strong hands grabbed you. You let out a quick scream, before you saw into deep blue eyes. You noticed immediately that Mysterion had saved you. You sadly had not seen much of the fight, like you wished you had. He must have looked amazing.

"Run. Now. Get out of here." He said in his extremely deep voice and you needed a second before you could process everything that had just happened, but you managed to nod hesitantly before you took off running. Running for your dear life. You kept a tight grip on your phone in your pocket and when you finally reached the street in which you lived, you took a short second to catch your breath. "What the..." You mumbled somewhat scared and giddy.

Hastily you took out your phone and looked through your gallery. Your heart started beating faster when you took a good look at the beautiful snapshot you took of Mysterion while he arrived on his motorcycle.

"That's so gonna be in my locker at work." You mumbled, smiling like an idiot and you probably were one. You barely managed to escape the sticky situation, but you felt like it was somewhat worth it.

For you it was worth it.

Your little obsession with Mysterion started back when you were in High School and he saved a little girl that was almost run over by a car. Back then he was not all that professional like he was today. He apparently received some funding by the government which allowed him to have that cool motorcycle and a little headquarters. No one knew who he was or where he stashed all of his belongings. But he was a hero. To the town and for you personally.

A little squeal escaped your lips, before you went to shower and then straight to bed. Mysterion was the only thing on your mind during all of this.

When your phone rang early in the morning, you were already up and going about your day. You had the picture you endangered yourself for yesterday already printed out and in your work bag.

You worked for a little company belonging to Eric Cartman. He founded it a few years back and it changed its focus ever so often.

Eric paid you well and that's what kept you in the job. When it was time to leave you simply got into your car and started driving to the outskirts of the town where Eric had his little company. You parked on your employee parking space and saw one of your close friends and also colleagues walk up.

Stan Marsh.

He was honestly better than this job, but he simply wanted to escape his father for some time, because he hated the weed farm he owned, and Eric promised him some good money.

"Morning Stan!" You called out and waved towards the raven haired. He waved back and quickly jogged up to you.

"Hey, YN. Did you hear about the whole thing yesterday with Professor Chaos?" He asked and you showed your phone.

"Already read all the articles aaaand..." You quickly pulled up the snapshot you managed to sneak yesterday. Stans eyes grew wide.

"Woah! You were there?" "Yeah! And the girl that almost got kidnapped by Disarray? That was me." You smiled and Stan shook his head. "weren't you with Bebe yesterday?"

"Yeah." You began, as the two of you sat down at your desks. "She's somewhat pissed about me standing around in danger but she's happy I wasn't hurt." Stan smiled warmly at you and you guys talked for some more until Cartman strolled into your shared office.

"Okay. Okay. So... I want a new article about Coon for my blog and I need you, Stan, to please sort out the client data and phone anyone who hasn't bought our new merch." Eric said and pointed at the "Who is the Coon?"-T-Shits and Hoodies that hang on the wall.

"But no one likes the Coon?" Stan questioned and Erics face grew a little red. "Everyone loves the Coon. Mysterion is just some asshat who plays dress up and tries to mingle with the professionalism of the Coon." Eric said through gritted teeth and Stan and you rolled your eyes.

"Sure thing." Stan mumbled and started typing. "YN, for today, please research me some new money-making ideas." You nodded and went searching.

Hours went by in which Stan and you would love to just bang your head against the tables. "Why is he so obsessed with the Coon? You could almost think he is the Coon." Stan mumbled. "Almost but... You never know. I mean, we probably will never know who Mysterion is." You answered and filled out the papers needed for a new money-making idea. Last time you guys tried NSFW-Patreon drawings; the problem was though that none of you could produce enough hentai to keep up with the demand. You guys did not notice that you had been working for a while until two beautiful blonde-haired boys poked their head in.

"You guys coming for lunch?" Butters asked. "Yeah, haven't noticed it's lunchtime yet." You said and peeked at your watch. "Hardworking as always." Butters smiled and just now you noticed he had a black eye.

"Butters, what happened there?" Stan asked and he looked scared for a second. "Just some guy who beat me up at the bar, nothing to worry about fellas." He smiled and honest to God, he was just a little sunshine all around. Unlike the blonde next to him.

Kenny was more of a player and very down to earth. He was super charismatic and confident despite his troubled upbringing.

You packed your bag and followed the guys.

Kenny didn't work for Cartman. He worked in a small car shop just a few buildings away. You didn't know why he refused to work with Cartman, but you could guess it was maybe due to Cartman being a little shit sometimes and him telling the blond always "You're pooooor Kiiinny."

Maybe Cartman’s terrible attitude really was the reason the blonde refused to work for him and only came here to have lunch with you all. "Where are we eating?"

You asked and watched Stan and Butters discuss on where to go. "How about Cafe Monet?" Stan proposed and you all agreed. Well, not really, Kenny didn't agree, he just tagged along. Once you all arrived and you were seated you guys searched through the Menu.

Kenny didn't and you knew he wasn't going to order since he was adamant about saving everything he had.

You know that since he once told you that he was saving everything he had for his sister.

You had met Karen a few times and she was a pure little angle, so you felt hard for the blond.

It melted your heart that he was trying so hard to better himself and help his siblings. Feeling generous you slid your Menu over to the blonde and smiled. "Pick something. It's on me." You whispered and he eyed you confused.

"I don't need some charity shit or something. I'm fine with eating my lunch later." He said, his blond bangs framing his face elegantly. "I know. Just see it as a friend treating a friend." You whispered back and he gifted you a half smile and went to look what he would like. Finally, you decided on a nice Fav/Dish and Kenny picked a bit of fish with potatoes and greens.

"Eating all healthy?" You questioned when the waiter out down the plate in front of him. "Yes. Staying fit is important." He said and winked confidently. You were so busy talking to the blond next to you, you did not notice the topic of your other two friends. "No no, YN was the girl." You turned your head to look at Stan pointing at you. "Huh, sorry, what was that?" You asked and Stan laughed.

"You were the girl who got almost caught up in professor Chaos evil plan weren't you?" Butters looked at you with wide eyes. He seemed trembling.

"Oh yeah, that was me. General Disarray was about to take me somewhere, but I was saved."

"Why were you there anyway?" Kenny asked with a full mouth. "Snapping pics of her crush." You eyed Stan angrily.

"He's not my crush."

"Tell that to your locker." You rolled your eyes.

"I managed to snap some good pics of Mysterion. I mean.... look!"

You digged out your phone from your pockets and showed the pictures around. "You should be a photographer or something I mean, damn. His ass Looks amazing in this one." Kenny said and inspected the pictures intensely.

"Don't encourage her to endanger herself anymore. And besides that, I don't think Mysterion would want to bang your boney ass." Stan commented snarky.

"Still more ass than you, flat cake." The blonde retorted and you and Butters simply watched the small verbal fight between them, before the two of you talked about some fashion things you knew about.

After lunch it was all back to work. It was getting tiresome around the last hour and it felt like a horrible drag. But eventually, you were finally done. You walked outside, together with Stan and you stood there.

"You need a ride home?" You asked him and he shook his head.

"Nah, I'm eating out with my family today. Just a small way to walk." You nodded and the two of you bid your goodbyes.

You got into your car and let out a deep breath. Work was tiring today, and you felt like just relaxing at home. It would be nice to maybe fill your bathtub with some loving hot water, some candles would also be nice. And cake. Yes. A cake would be needed.

So, you decided to make a small stop at the bakery before you would go home. You left your parking space and began driving through the night as you noticed a special someone sitting at a bench at the bus stop. You pulled the car up to the bench and rolled down you window.

"Kenny, what are you doing here?"

The blonde looked up from his phone and seemed surprised that you stood or rather parked there.

"Oh, I'm just waiting for the bus, the usual." He said and looked around. "But I feel like it's not coming."

He shrugged and you leaned over to open your car door.

"Hop in, I'll bring you home." You said and he reluctantly got it.

"Stop being nice, I feel like I am taking advantage." He mumbled and closed the door.

"What happened to your truck?" You asked, wondering what must have happened that Kenny had to take the bus.

"Some stupid racoons infested it and bit through some cables. I can swap them, but I had to order them online and it takes a while until they arrive." He crossed his arms, thinking about how much he wanted to strangle those stupid racoons.

"Honestly, I'm starting to see a pattern on why Coon is a raccoon."

Kenny laughed wholeheartedly with you. "That's the best thing I heard about him." Kenny bit his lip and wondered if it was okay for him to ask what he had on his mind for a while.

"Now that you already picked me up and all that..." You stole a quick glance at him before your eyes went straight back to the road. You nodded to signal him to continue.

"Would you mind hanging out for the evening?" He asked, charming as ever.

You thought about it for a moment.

"Sure, why not. I'll still get me some cake though." You said and pointed at the approaching bakery.

"Why?" He questioned curiously as you parked swiftly in front of the store.

"I feel like taking a nice long bath later and maybe I'll relax with some cake."

"You don't need cake to relax when you can have me."

Kenny's smile was incredibly devious and playfully. Normally girls would probably freak out or something about this comment, but between you and Kenny it had become somewhat normal.

"No thanks. The cake won't disappoint me after thirty seconds." You said and got out.

Kenny wanted to protest but you simply smiled devilishly and went straight into the store. Kenny used this time he was given to think of some witty comebacks.

He was not gonna let you have the last word about this. When you came back to the car, and got in, you were told: "You don't need to hide that you just wanna masturbate and think about Mysterion while touching yourself.

Kenny sat there with a smug expression and you rolled your eyes. You placed the package in the back and then gave him a light punch onto the arm.

"That one was good, I'll admit that. But you know, I'd rather think about Mysterion than be touched by you." You said and laughed.

Kenny needed to laugh too, mainly because the whole topic was simply in his favor, even when you were not aware of that.

"Ah, I love our banter." Kenny said and got comfortable in the passenger seat while he watched you drive.

"So do I. Oh, by the way, I got you and Karen some cake too. You'll treat me another time."

"Treat you with my dick? Or would you like my tongue?"

"If your name isn't Mysterion, no chance."

It was more banter to you than actually real. You were not that horny for Mysterion.

Everyone just loved to make this shitty joke at your expense ever so often, but you honestly didn't mind.

"Ah come on. And if I get a costume like his and change my voice a little?"

"Still no chance. Sorry Ken."

That still was a stupid lie. You sure were attracted to Kenny, I mean, who wouldn't. He was a tall, dirty blonde, blue-eyed hard-working man, with a soft spot for his family and great humor. You weren't surprised when you learned how many girls had little crushes on him. He was good looking and even when he wasn't the wealthiest, he was a kindhearted soul.

When you finally reach your apartment complex the two of you got out and Kenny followed you patiently to the fourth floor. Inside your apartment he went straight for the couch and relaxed. You let him be but reminded him of the no shoes rule. He begrudgingly took of his heavy and run-down boots and put them aside. He also, to your surprise, took of his orange trademark parka and tossed it into a corner.

"You'll pick it up later." You remarked from the kitchen when you saw him do that.

"Yeah, Yeah, I will."

You knew full when that he just said that so you wouldn't start a discussion with him. You knew that but still let it slide. For now, at least. You prepared a little sandwich for yourself before you plopped down onto the couch next to the blond.

"So, what are we doing?" You asked with your mouth full and he shrugged.

"How about you take that bath you were talking about and I watch you do so."

Did this shit eating grin ever leave his face?

"Nah, I'm good." You said and smiled back.

"Ah come on." He whined but laughed immediately after.

"Let's just watch some TV." You proposed and snagged the remote to put something on.

You guys were just lazily watching some random show while also being on your phones. All that was on your mind was that bath though. You loved Kenny to death but right now you were just craving some hot warm water all around you.

"Would you mind if I take that bath I was talking about? I really feel like I need that."

You said and the blonde smiled without taking his eyes off the phone. "I'd need you naked too."

You threw one of the couch pillows at him and pretended to laugh.

"Ha ha ha. You're sooo funny, it almost hurts me." You said, got up and walked into your bathroom to start the water.

In the next minutes you were setting up the candles and got your cake ready. When the water was almost ready, Kenny leaned in the doorway and watched you ignite the last candles.

"Jeez, you're going all out. Looks nice though." He said and gave you a low whistle.

"You wanna have me join you sweetheart?" He said and walked over to your kneeling figure. Kenny also got down to one knee and basically massaged your shoulders. You let out a deep sigh and rolled your eyes.

"Hey, Ken, listen, I really appreciate you and love our jokes and shit, but I don't think we should bang. It would be like... I don't know, super awkward if we had something and then just keep being friends and all that. And You're a great friend and I don't want to lose you, you know."

Kenny's smile faded and he frowned a little. "YN, I fucked so many girls and guys and I'm friendly with most of them and even their old or new partners. I'm sure it won't change a thing." He said charmingly and turned your head towards his.

You stared deeply into his eyes and you inspected the beautiful bright blue spots that highlighted it and the dark blue edges, while your heads came closer. You had never seen Kenny’s eyes up close.

And suddenly it struck you.

It felt like an ice cube slide down your spine and you trembled. You pulled your head back and basically fell onto your ass. Kenny eyed you confused and offered you a hand to get back up.

"No, I'm fine... I-I'll just take the bath if you don't mind." You laughed nervously and still confused Kenny nodded and held up his hands in defense.

"I get it, I get it. You won't resist me forever." He smiled and walked out. You were left there, breathing away the strange feeling of panic.

You quickly undressed yourself and went into the hot water. It calmed your racing thoughts down for a little bit and you managed to order them.

The blue, the highlights, the dark edges that formed a beautiful circle. The few freckles underneath the eyes. Why did Mysterion and Kenny have identical eyes? What, How, why, just... Argh!

You began stuffing yourself with cake and tried your best to make any sense of the situation. Was Kenny Mysterion, or did they just have similar eyes?

Or... You thought about it long and hard and eventually.... It kind of just... Clicked?

It made sense.

Kenny was living alone, he was young, in shape, the piecing blue eyes, the need to protect others, some jokes he made... It... It just fitted together like a puzzle.

You quickly finished up your bath and went outside after blowing out the candles.

"What a view." Kenny joked from the couch and you just went straight into your bedroom.

This perverted guy you were close friends with was really the pure and kindhearted Mysterion? In your head it barely made any sense but you kind of just felt like your theory was correct.

You got dressed quickly and just sat on your bed, trying to picture the blond in the purple costume without the hood.

It just fit.

The height, the figure.

Everything.

After a few minutes you heard a knock on your door and carefully Kenny came in.

"Good, you're dressed. Even if I don't mind you in less clothes."

You didn't respond or gave him any attention.

"YN, is everything, all right? You're suddenly so wei- You're Mysterion, aren't you?" You interrupted him and looked straight at him.

He seemed surprised, taken back, unsure.

Everything, Kenny was normally not.

"Me? Mysterion? Sweetheart, was the water too hot?" He laughed when he collected himself again.

"No. Not at all. When Mysterion saved me, he starred straight into my eyes. You guys have the same eyes, freckles, skin tone." You said and waved your hands around.

"I guess no point in denying then. I should have been more careful." He said and sat down next to you.

"Please keep it to yourself. I'm sure if someone knows who I am, they will target the people I'm trying to protect." He said and his hand went through his hair.

"Does anyone else know?" You questioned and he shook his head.

"Nope. Not even Karen. It is dangerous if someone knows who I am. So, I always kept it a secret. I guess my only mistake was trying to fuck you after you were that close to Mysterion but..." He grinned evilly, "You said no one could fuck you except Mysterion. So... Here I am." His hand moved from his head to his knees, presenting himself.

"I wish I was as confident as you." You mumbled.

"I can't believe the hero I always looked up to is... You?" You said, raising and eyebrow and inspecting the blonde once more.

"Disappointed?" He questioned and tilted his head.

"I don't know."

"You wanna know what's funny to me?"

You looked at him, waiting for his reply, but as soon as you saw that shit eating grin on his face, you knew it'd be bad.

"That ass you admired and took pictures of was mine. The guy in your locker is me. It is so funny. You obsessed over me, without knowing it was me. That's so fucking funny, I wish I could tell someone."

He laughed his ass off and fell onto your bed. He just kept saying how funny it is and you felt more and more like a fool.

"Can you shut up, this is embarrassing and confusing you asshat." He finally got back up and held his hands up in a defensive manner.

"Woah, woah, no need to be so hostile." He spoke. You simply rolled your eyes.

"I love that I now have more material to make fun of you. But also, I feel flattered that you love me, without having seen this beautiful face."

"Someday you'll choke on that humongous ego of yours."

"I'd rather choke you."

You had a small starring contest and you lost when you just busted out laughing.

"So, now that you know my secret, I'm sure you will not say anything about it..." He asked and took your hand.

"I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Good, otherwise I'd have to kill you." He said in his Mysterion voice and the grip on your hand got stronger. You felt scared for a second, before he smiled again.

"Just a joke." You just nodded.

"Ahh, come on Sweetheart..." You looked at him again and he had this smug expression once more.

"Don't you love this." And he switched the voice again.

Still somewhat embarrassed and also confused because the guy you had a small crush on turned out to be a friend of yours, your cheeks heat up and immediately Kenny picked up on it.

"I can tell you like it." He whispered into your ear.

"Dude, this feels like some weird roleplay or something." You giggled.

"We can make it that. I still have some of my older costumes."

You laughed once more and bit your lip, while Kenny pushed you slowly onto your bed and got on top of you.

"Oh, shut up Mysteribitch."

"Oh, I'll make you my bitch."

He laughed, before he slowly pressed his lips onto yours. His lips felt somewhat rough and at the same time smooth, kind of just like you imagined what it'd be like.

And also, just like you imagined, his tongue found its way into your mouth rather quickly.

You continued making out for quite a while and honestly, to you it felt like heaven. But eventually you carefully pressed your hands against his chest after they had wandered down from his soft hair and you pressed him away.

"What... Don't tell me you're thinking about this staying friends shit again." He said somewhat aggravated. You shook your head.

"No, I just wanted to ask if you could bring one of those old costumes next weekend. Maybe we can pick up on that roleplay idea." You whispered against his lips and he smiled into the now following kiss.

"Good. I was just gonna say that I don't wanna be friends. I kinda wanna be more. I like you a lot YN." He whispered in-between the kisses.

"I'm fine with that." You whispered back and the two of you just smiled into the many kisses you now shared. And pretty much, just like you expected, it didn't take long for Kenny’s hands to roam around your body and finally wandered underneath your shirt.

You did not just make out that night.

It led to much more and you loved every second of it. When your alarm woke you up in the morning, it felt strange to feel these strong arms around you. You carefully woke Kenny up and told him it was time to get up.

"I don't wanna. It's so nice here. The view it to die for." He said as you got up.

"Go shower. I'll drop you off at work."

"Fine." He mumbled and walked past you, naked.

"The pure confidence of this man."

You got dressed and ready for work, as did Kenny begrudgingly. While you also made him a bit of lunch, he stole some kisses ever so often. You honestly were surprised at this, you imagined this part differently, but of course you did not complain. When you were finally in your car and on your way to work, he proposed an idea.

"Okay, so of you wanna do that roleplay shit, I'll Go the extra mile. Just for you, I'll surprise you with the whole thing. Just leave your window open next weekend and you might be visited by the hero with the great ass." He winked.

You bit your lip, feeling aroused just thinking about it.

"I will do so. Hope Mysterions dick is as good as my boyfriends." You teased and Kenny laughed rather hard.

"Feels strange hearing you say that, but I can get used to it."

"Good." You answered and you two smiled like idiots, thinking all about your crazy plans, while you pulled into your parking space.

"You walk over to your work?" You questioned as you saw Stan approaching from the corner of your eye.

"Yeah. See you at lunch, Babe." He pressed a final kiss onto your lips and took off to his own work.

Stan whistled as you caught up to him.

"I thought you were crushing on Mysterion?" Stan questioned with a smile on his thin lips.

"I kinda got over it. Kenny's a pretty good catch anyway, I think he's the closest to Mysterion that there is." You smiled and Stan laughed at your comment.

"If You say so."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it." You smiled, knowing this secret between you and Kenny will spice thing up in your relationship.

#kenny mccormick #south park #kenny x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #oc #mysterion

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