#and irritated by the way he acted when i literally just told him that i was really upset and didn't understand why he abandoned me

[fxckinemo]

once again can't sleep because I'm out of real weed and alcohol just makes me cry about my ex best friend if im not distracted enough

[tonycries]

F*ck You! (Literally) - T.F.

Synopsis. Of course, you hated your ex-husband. Of course, you found yourself in bed with him on your wedding anniversary.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, exes to lovers, angry séx, spítting, degradation, y’all are both mean, rough, jealousy (Toji’s side), bréeding, smackíng, arguíng during it, cúmplay, overstím, oral (female receiving), mentions of Megumi and Shiu, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.7k

A/N. Gojo next week because I miss my man smh.

It’s not often that you contemplate something that would definitely end up with a night in jail - but it seems that somehow whenever you did, your ex-husband Toji was always sure to be the cause of it.

Like that time he had the audacity to ask you out to dinner right outside the divorce attorney’s office, mere moments after signing those papers. Or when he “accidentally” sent you some mouthwateringly shirtless photos - through email, of course, because you had him blocked otherwise. Although, you’d saved those pictures - a secret you’d take to the grave.

And now. 

Standing right outside your front door, on the night of what would’ve been your fifth anniversary. His imposing figure filling the frame, that tiny scar you loved and hated so much quirking up ever-so-slightly as he shoots you a sly grin. 

He’s here.

Looking as devastatingly handsome as the day you left him.

“Happy anniversary, ex-wifey.”

And just as irritating, too. 

That snaps you out of your traitorous little reverie, and before long you’re sputtering out a shaky, “Y-you. What do you think you’re doing here?” Not even waiting for his response before moving to shut the door in his face.

“Oh, believe me,” Toji lets out a humorless little laugh, reaching up a sculpted arm to stop the door in its tracks. “I wouldn’t be here even if I wanted to.”

That was a lie - and Toji knew that. He had half the mind to think that you knew that. But it didn’t matter when you’re glaring up at him so prettily. The confusion evident on your face as you grit out a shrill, “Then why am I seeing your stupid face tonight?”

“Chance? Luck? A blessing?” 

Scoffing, “A curse.”

“That mouth’s still as sharp as ever, huh?” He cocks his head in amusement, “Did you not see my email?”

“No, I uh-” you mumble, face burning. And oh you wish you could stop yourself from thinking back to those photos - stop yourself from wanting to smack the smirk off Toji’s face that told you he was, too. “-blocked you on…that…as well.”

“Mhm.” he hums, eyes lingering too long on your comfy pajamas - his favorite ones -  and the way you’re squirming so adorably under the intensity of his gaze. “Well, m’just here to pick up one of that brat’s toys. Won’t take long n’ I’ll be out of your sight, doll.”

And you can’t say anything about that familiar little petname, because it hits you with a pang - oh, how you missed Megumi. 

He’d thrown a tantrum until he was allowed to visit you occasionally, of course. But still, it was nothing compared to how inseparable the three of you were before your relationship with Toji soured. His line of work too dangerous, the fights more frequent until you’d had enough.

“Ah, yes. Megs probably won’t even leave the house without it.” you chuckle, opening the door wider. “I was surprised to find it the other day since he said that lil’ plushie was his best friend. After me.”

“After me.”

“Liar.”

“Gorgeous.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fitting for our anniversary, huh?” And oh how Toji enjoyed riling you up. To spy that little furrow between your brows as he strides inside your apartment like it was his own - he did know it like the back of his hand. “I already know where the bed is, after all.”

“Yeah, and you know where the door is too.” you mutter, acting like it didn’t make your head spin to think of Toji - in your home. With you. You and Toji. In your home. You and Toji in your home. 

You hadn’t seen him since the divorce just four months ago, and here he was looking so unfairly like he fit right in. Taking up much more time than necessary as he walks towards that little wolf toy on your couch. Eyeing up the sappy romance movie paused on-screen, and those familiar photographs on the wall. 

You still had that one of the two of you from that beach getaway two years ago, he noted with delight. 

“Heh, for someone that hates me so much, s’funny you have my face hung up here.” he smirks, words just dripping with that familiar dark tone that has shivers running down your spine. “Knew you were still into me.” Defiant - challenging, even, because he always did like to push all your buttons. 

Don’t fall for it, don’t fall for it, don’t fall for-

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes, walking towards where Toji stood. “I jus’ use it to scare off clingy dates in the morning.” 

And you loved to push his buttons even more. 

“Oh? Dates, huh?” And something about those words make you feel like something’s too-tense. Exciting, even. Especially as he repeats - more to himself than you, “Dates.”

“Jealous?”

“Heh, of whatever scrub took you out? In your dreams, doll.” Maybe it was the way Toji was joking - but didn’t sound like he was at all. Or maybe it was the way he didn’t move as you stepped closer, enough that you’re almost toe-to-toe with him. Probably it was the way he murmurs out a strangled, “M’not jealous.”

Oh. 

You watch the way his body stiffens, darkened eyes flitting between you and the picture and you- Smirking “Good, because m’having one over soon.”

“Oh, you little bitch.” He spits out the words, gaze hardening in a way you knew did not bode well for your - or down there. Hitting it where it hurts, “This is why I’m so fuckin’ glad we divorced.”

“Fuck you,” you tilt your head, anger simmering beneath your skin - and you didn’t know who was pissing each other off more. “So then you can get out before my date gets here.” And the emphasis on “date” isn’t lost on him.

“Such a liar.”

“M’not lying.” You were - but you didn’t care if Toji could tell because it was ticking him off just the same. “You could say he’s an-” Now close enough that you could feel the heat of his proximity. A finger stabbing right in his pecs with each word, “-upgrade.”

Suddenly you’re being pulled to his rock-hard chest, all the dips and curves of his body so sinfully obvious against your skin as he questions, “How so?”

“Well, for starters he’s-” you gasp, casting a sidelong glance at the way the muscles in his arms ripple. And it takes everything in you to try and keep your voice steady, “-bigger.” Thighs pressing together at the tiny grunt of disbelief that leaves your ex-husband, too-aware of the strong hand wrapped around your waist. “And sexier.”

“And?”

“And what?” you gulp, raising your head to blink up at him in confusion and oh- 

Oh, shit. You weren’t going to make it out alive. 

Toji’s eyes were wide, a mirthless smirk spreading across his face, jaw tensing as he leans down to whisper hotly against your ear, words hoarse - stilted, like it pained him to even speak them into existence. “And what other lies are ya gonna make up?”

And you might be a genius - you might just not know what’s good for you. 

Because you’re batting your lashes just the way you knew he liked, the words - saccharine sweet, and falling from your lips faster than your whirling brain could even register them. “And he makes me cum so much harder.”

Toji’s lips are crashing against yours - and you knew it was coming. You wanted them to. Bruising, angry - like he was telling you to just shut the fuck up, another word of your imaginary date and it would kill him. 

He tasted the same as he did all those months ago. Sweet, like those cheap lollipops he would buy you and that absolute sin of his scar rubbing against your lips. 

“Fuck-” he lets out a guttural groan into your lips. Only a sloppy mix of teeth and spit as he kisses you with the collective desperation of a little over four months. “Hate how you’re-” Like he didn’t even care if it left your poor lips swollen and bruised - at least that might give whatever loser coming here a hint. “-still addictive.”

With that, he picks you up like it’s just nothing, your traitorous legs easily wrapping around his toned waist. Letting you pull off that sinfully snug t-shirt to feel the smooth planes of all his muscles. Soft. Warm. 

You gasp at how he manhandles you so that your thin pajama pants are just above his achingly hard cock, throbbing, and so so angry against your core. Trousers already so damp with- precum? Your slick? 

“Hah- not jealous my ass-” you hiss, grinding down on his bulge.

And Toji’s parting mere millimeters, chuckling darkly at the disappointed little whine that escapes you. “Yeah, well, does he ever get you like this?” He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, purposely not giving you what you want. “Does he ever get you this-” Grinding you against his straining erection, two fingers sliding down, just teasing the drenched front of your shorts. “-this fuckin’ wet?”

“Nah,” you pull on Toji’s silky locks, nipping at his collarbone. “He gets me wetter.”

“You little-”

It’s like something snaps - whatever’s left of Toji’s sanity, your patience, possibly you by the end of this. Anything but the thick, suffocating - tension in your living room. Now too small. Too hot. 

Before you can react, your back  is hitting the soft cushions of your couch. Bouncing at the sheer force of the throw as Toji looms over you. 

“Thought you knew where the bed was?” you manage to get out, in the heat of it all. 

“Thought you hated me?”

“Gonna kill you if you break this cou-” but the rest of the retort on your tongue dies as Toji’s hands are suddenly everywhere.

Groping your breasts - your waist - your ass. Barely giving you time to even think before fisting your shirt in one hand. Too impatient - too starved - to do anything other than pull down, down, down until it-

RIP!

“Oh you fuckin’ slut.” Toji’s jaw drops into a soft little oh! at the sight of your heavenly breasts before him. No bra - exactly how he liked it. “How I missed these.” Massaging them under his hands, “Is this for him or ya really had no idea I was coming?”

“You’re t-too fuckin’ hah-” you whine as he immediately takes one into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your sensitive nipples. “-full of yourself.”

And you don’t even know if Toji registered the insult - looking like he was on cloud nine as he rolled your other nipple between two fingers. Pulling off with a lewd pop! only to say, “Wonder if you’re the same down there.”

You are - Toji discovers, with wonder. 

Hooking a finger underneath the hem of your already-soaked shorts to pull them off. And, hey, Toji hasn’t had this view in months - so he really can’t help himself from bringing them up to his face. Your jaw drops at his pure audacity as he breathes in the scent of your dripping pussy with a strained, “M’keepin’ these, doll.”

“You’re sick.” 

“And you’re soaked.” strong hands spread your legs so shamefully. You can’t fight it - how fucking wet and glistening you were for him under the dim-lighting. Toji grins cockily, “Who’s she this wet for, huh? Me or him?”

“Not- not you-” you whine, despite how your sloppy cunt was leaking all over your legs - such a mess. A mess that Toji was shifting down the couch to lick up. Slow, lazy circles right at your inner thighs. Sweet - so sweet, his favorite. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste and oh, how Toji missed this. 

Missed teasing you until you broke. 

Which, it turns out, happens fairly early.

“Y-you’re just fucking talk.” you hiss, but it comes out more breathless than you intended. Your voice betraying how badly you wanted him. Needed him to do something - anything. “He-”

Toji doesn’t even let you finish your sentence - and you don’t need to - because without another word, he’s surging forward until he was nose-deep in your messy cunt.

Licking one, long stripe up your swollen folds - up and down, up and down, up and- He murmurs into your cunt, “Do ya still like when I-” Hot tongue flicking roughly against your clit. Just barely, and you’re bucking wildly underneath him. “Ah, you do. Old habits die hard, huh?”

Of course, the only response that Toji gets is a wet, pathetic murmur of something - maybe a plea, probably a curse at him to shut up. 

But it’s something that has all the blood rushing to his aching cock, something that has him biting down lightly on your inner thigh - just a little punishment. 

“What was that?” he purrs, “Didn’t seem to hear you right, wifey.”

It takes everything in you to gasp out, a barely-audible determined little, “I-I said-” fingers threading through Toji’s hair, pulling up his face. Hard, so that he’s forced to meet your eyes instead of admiring your pretty lil’ cunt. “-fuck you.”

And you don’t know what you expected - maybe an insult back, maybe for him to get up and leave you all high and dry right then and there.

But oh you should’ve known your ex-husband better, because he has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh, more to infuriate you than anything as he promptly spits on your quivering pussy. 

Once. Twice.

You flinch as some splatters against your thigh, and you both know it’s on purpose. Because Toji Fushiguro always had perfect aim - but when it comes to you, well, he had to knock his bratty lil’ wife down a few pegs. 

Throwing your legs over his shoulders to lick all over your sloppy pussy once more. “Fuck me, huh?” he groans out little profanities into your cunt, “Fuck me fuck me fuck me-” 

Smack!

You register that delicious little sting on your ass far before the realization that Toji smacked you - and even later do you realize that you liked it. Slick beading through at the painfully good feeling.

Liked the way his rough palm was soothing over the sting, words strangled and slurring together as he smacks his lips against your swollen, sensitive ones. “I’d rather you fuck me than some hah- other loser.”

“S-so fucking mean-” you moan.

“So what?” His thumb draws tight little circles on your throbbing clit, the other hand looping around your waist - bruising - as he drags your sloppy pussy all over his hot mouth. “No one else could do this.” Soft tongue going all the way up from your base, “Get you this wet-” Just dipping into your clenching hole. “-taste you like this.”

“Hngh- fuck-” you groan, as he alternates between flicking your clit so mean and squeezing his tongue into your tight cunt. “Fuck fuck fuck- s’too much-”

Too much? Toji wanted to laugh - if he wasn’t so addicted to the feeling of your gummy walls stretched out so obscenely on his tongue, anyway. He knows you can take it - you always did. 

And he tells you that - a little over ten times, actually, as the hand on your waist arches you deeper and deeper onto Toji’s tongue. Fucking you so harshly - merciless. Unrelenting. Like he was taking any and every shred of anger out on your ravaged cunt.

Bucking your hips wildly, you tipping your head down to look at the sight below you and oh-

You gasp at how sinfully blissed out Toji looks between your thighs. Eyes glassy and hooded, strands of dark hair sticking to his forehead. Your slick glossing his lips so prettily - and if you angled your head just right you could catch the way it drips down his jawline. Yeah, maybe you really did like his face between your legs. 

“Always knew ya did, doll.” he echoes against your glistening lips and shit, did you say that out loud? 

It doesn’t matter, because Toji has his lips smushing against yours, such a filthy mess of spit and fingers and tongue - everywhere. Like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to taste more. “Knew your pussy missed me, even when you’re such some other bastard. She’s still so sweet.” Thrusting in and out faster past that first, feeble ring of resistance. “So messy f’me. Fuckin’ my tongue so good for s-someone that hates me.”

And you have half the mind to wonder whether it hurt - how his fingers weren’t cramping up yet, lips aching. Letting you push his face deeper into your pussy, ankles locking around his broad shoulders in a desperate attempt to shut him up. Close. 

“Y-you talk ngh- too much.” Blood roaring in your ears, feeling his smirk against your cunt. “Do you ever shut the fuck up?”

“Nah, I know you ah- love it.” Smack! Another handprint on your ass that has you stuttering and jolting on his face. “Can feel you clenching all around me because I-” Toji gives you such an infuriating wink from below,  “-eat this pussy the best.”

 And you would be mad at how cocky he was being - if you weren’t cumming all over his pretty face. 

Stars behind your eyes with each little lick of Toji’s tongue as he fucks you through your high, lapping up all your sweet sweet juices. 

“W-wait oh-” you were letting out such delirious little whines. “S’too sensitive- too- hngh-”

“No-” he grits out, voice shot. “No no no no- wan’ it. Need it.” Scrambling to pull your hips back onto his mouth. Fingers just bruising on your skin. 

He was like a man possessed, and you can only lay there and take it as Toji tips his head back to let your slick slide, down, down, down his throat. Voice shot, as he grits out, “Oh fuck, been holdin’ out on me.” Eyes unfocused and miles away as he comes up to squish your cheeks together in an embarrassing little pout. “Open that fucking mouth.” 

And you barely even realize it when you are - tongue lolling out so sinfully. The only thing jolting you back to whatever senses you have left is Toji spitting in your mouth. 

A steady, angry stream of saliva before his lips are clashing once more with yours. Purposefully letting your juices smear all over both your lips, tasting yourself and him and how desperate you were on his tongue-

“O-oh my god.” you break the kiss at the feeling of something so hard against your cunt. Delicate strings of spit snapping as you whirl down to look. Shit, when did he even take off his-

Ah, how Toji loves the breathless little whimper that leaves your lips at the sight of his too-tight boxers, the insults failing you now. Humming, “Like what ya see?” 

As if to prove his point, he tugs them down just enough that his rock-hard cock springs free. Fuck, you think you’ll never get used to it, even after so long - Toji was so fucking massive. Flushed red, soaked in beads of precum that drip down, down, down all the way to the tufts of black at his toned pelvis. 

So thick and angry that your legs were clenching together just at the mere sight. And Toji notices - how could he not?

“Yeah…” he murmurs, as if continuing a conversation from before. Muscled arms pushing your thighs apart to watch how your sloppy pussy was drooling all over the couch. “She definitely missed me, look how much she’s gushing.” Pooling your juices on his fingertips, “Clean your act up, doll”

“Shut up.” you squeal, embarrassedly, giving Toji a glare that makes his balls squeeze so painfully. Smirking, “You’re not even as big as him.”

Oh. 

Well, Toji didn’t like that - not one bit, in fact, as he shoves his dripping wet fingers in your mouth - pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way he knows will have your pretty eyes welling up with tears.

“Then why aren’t you with him, you little bitch. Think I like you better when you’re f-fucked dumb.” he spits dangerously against your lips. Fisting his cock to lazily drag up and down your puffy folds. “Don’t you hah- agree?”

He doesn’t get to find out if you agree - and he doesn’t care, either. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to give an answer even if you wanted to. Because his swollen cock was too thick, the stretch too sinful, too dizzying as Toji splits you apart on his unforgiving cock. 

“Mmmpf- fuck! Hah-” you mewl, torn between running away from his cock and bucking down for more more more-

“More?” he laughs, “Ya ask him for more like this too?”

And oh how so very cute and pliant you were being stuffed full. He barely gives you the time to adjust because - why would he? Toji has his mouthy wife all breathless and splayed out so shamefully, desperately trying to milk his cock for all he’s worth. 

Barely even halfway in, yet he rocks into you in shallow, teasing little grinds just to fit himself inside your tight pussy. So mean. Not giving a fuck about those teary whimpers leaving your mouth.

“They ever ngh- fuck you like this?” he rasps, dropping his head to leave little bites down your tender neck. “Ever h-having you crying for his dick like ngh- this?” And despite all his confidence, Toji didn’t want to hear the answer - didn’t want to know the truth. “Such a slut.”

Your nails rake angrily down his sculpted shoulders - a warning, and it’s about the only thing you can do as Toji speeds up. Faster. Deeper. 

“Heh, what? Markin’ me up for others to hah- see?” he cooes, mockingly. And you could just cry as his grin widens, finally - finally - pulling his fingers out. “Why don’t you ngh- use your words instead?”

And you should probably breathe, probably tell him to fuck you exactly the way he wants to - to confess to him that this is all you’ve ever wanted on those lonely nights these past four months. But the both of you know that it’s more fun this way.

So instead, you smile sweetly, “F-fuck you. They do - a lot better, too.”

If only your voice hadn’t cracked so unconvincingly at the end - if only you hadn’t let out such a pornographic moan as Toji pulls your face to meet his. Kissing you over and over and his hips-

“I’m the one fucking you, doll.” he bites down on your lower lip, tugging and pushing at a senseless little rhythm - the complete opposite of his hips. “Remember that.” And that’s all that’s said before Tojis finally bottoming out all the way to the hilt. Heavy balls smacking sinfully against your ass, fat head just kissing your cervix. “It’s me. I don’t give a hah- shit if it’s been f-four mouths, it’ll always be ngh- me.”

The couch creaked in protest as Toji fucked you like it was the last thing he’d do. Like he was trying to fuck every thought of whoever came after him right out of you - along with those silly little thoughts about the divorce.

“B-but-” your eyes widen as Toji runs his mouth - as hasty and urgent as his movements now. Fingers snaking up to toy with your still-sensitive clit, not even drawing circles anymore - just messy, little patterns just to get you off. “We’re already-”

“You s-still think we’re oh- nothing but exes?” he questions, sounding as surprised as you felt. “We can’t stay ah- God, we can’t stay apart and you fuckin’ know it. So…”

You gulp, already knowing the answer to the question he was just goading you into asking. “So?” 

“So…” Toji muses, giving your swollen lips a short, chaste peck. Whispering against them, “M’gonna hah- fuck you till everyone knows you’re mine.”

A promise that Toji Fushiguro was well and fully intent on fulfilling. And you didn’t doubt that he’d have any trouble with it, in fact. 

Because he’s rutting into you so animalistically now, so so sloppy. Torn between savoring the feeling of your plushy walls squeezing him to insanity and abusing your poor cervix. Prominent veins making you feel a maddening little thump thump thump as he roams for that one-

“Ah! Hngh- Toji!”

Found it. 

And Toji had everything he needed - you, his wife, spread so sinfully and stuffed to the brim with him. Hitting your sweet spot over and over- 

“No loser’s gonna fuck you like this.” he breathes against your ear. “Have you ngh- feeling this good.”

“I- ngh- fuck fuck fuck, Toji-” you let out, hips mindlessly bucking down in a pathetic attempt to meet his rough thrusts. “S’too- hah- oh my god. S’too good-”

“Shut up.” Oh he sounds so absolutely wrecked. Sanity crumbling away bit by bit every time he’s plunging his cock - so painfully hard - into your wet pussy. “Do you even ah- realize how sexy you look right now?” Toji throws his head back, eyes still locked on you like it killed him to look away. “Never lettin’ anyone else s-see ya like this. They’re gonna look at you and see me-”

You don’t even know what he’s babbling about anymore. Just that his achingly hard cock was making such a mess of you, pulling back only to go deeper. Massaging all the right spots as fucked you harder into the couch. 

“Me-” he gasps. “That date is gonna fuck- know,” Hips stuttering and absolutely filthy, “That cashier d-down the ngh- street that eyes you up every time is gonna know-” Angry. Desperate. So, so needy. “Your fucking lawyer- ngh- s’gonna know. They’ll s-see you and see me me me me-”

At this point you can only nod deliriously, letting out a broken little, “Hngh- yeah, wan’ that, Toji. Wan’ you so bad.”

Toji presses another chaste kiss - this time to your forehead. Whispering a quiet, “Then cum f’me, doll.”

You do - the hardest you ever think you ever have in your entire life. Thighs shaking, vision spotty, sparks of white-hot electricity going all the way from your hazy brain to where Toji was fucking you through it.

Muffling your moans with his mouth as he gives one, harsh thrust. Then spilling into your gummy walls, painting it all an obscene white with rope after rope of hot cum. 

So wet and hot - with him. All him. 

And you look so cute taking it all like the good little wife that you are, that he can’t help but press down on your lower stomach. Awe-struck at how your cunt gushes around him, coating his twitching cock as Toji fucks his seed deeper and deeper into you. 

But, hell, that wasn’t his favorite part - not by a long shot. Instead, it was probably when you pulled him into his arms, whispering sweet little nonsense in his ear about “how you missed this” and “that date wasn’t real anyway” as he fucks the two of you through your highs. Sweet. Familiar. 

“Oh, God-” he mutters into the crook of your neck, slightly calmer now. Much more clear-minded than the two of you were mere seconds before. “We broke the couch.” 

And it was true - one side was sagging much more than the other. Though you can only let out a giggle in response. Doesn’t matter, the two of you’ll pick out a new one tomorrow - he always hated this new one, anyway. “Happy anniversary, wifey.”

---

“Damn kid, that ol’ dad of yours sure is running late.” Shiu crosses and uncrosses his legs with slight nervousness. Eyeing the small, dark-haired boy playing with blocks a few feet away, “Maybe we should-”

“It’s okay. He’ll be back.” Megumi deadpans, sounding like the absolute last thing on his mind was why his dad was taking way too long for what should’ve been a half an hour errand. Shiu - on the other hand - had his mind whirling with imaginations of traffic accidents or murders or- what if the two of you killed each other- “And he’ll bring back mama too.”

You could almost hear the record screech to a halt. The older man stared wide-eyed at a slightly-smiling Megumi. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Wait- no, what did you-”

“Nothing.”

Because, hey, Megumi might’ve had to go without his favorite wolf plushie for a bit - but a magician never reveals his tricks, right?

A/N. So how does it feel to be played by a kid, hm?

Plagiarism not authorized.

[depresssant]

Shades of Cool

NEGLECTFUL!PLATONIC!YAN!batfam x GN!reader

synopsis : growing up with a shit mom and constant step-dads and mom's boyfriends, your view on life has grown pretty bleak. you just want to die, since it doesn't seem to get better than this. things can't get any worse, can they?

wsp guys. it's been pretty long, huh?... OK IM SORRY FOR NOT POSTING IT QUICKLY. here, damn 🙄. anyways, i hope yall enjoy n im glad u guys liked the first chapter. lets just hope this one lives up to yalls expectations 😭. follow me and repost this if u want a chapter three. also I NEED SOMEONE TO EDUCATE ME ABOUT SUNDAY FROM HSR BC I WANNA WRITE FICS ABOUT HIM SO BAD SO PLS SOMEONE EDUCATE ME N ALSO IF U KNOW LOVE AND DEEP SPACE??? PLS HIT ME UP AND EXPLAIN THIS LORE BC I WANNA WRITE YANDERE FICS FOR THEM SO BAD

“Why are balls called balls when testicles sounds hella fancier?”

At your friend’s bizarre question, the face of your other friend, Zarian, twinges in disgust. “Jayelene… why do you feel the need to put that out there?”

You huff in amusement, focusing on your pizza before what Jaylene says ruins your entire mood.

“I’m just saying! Testicles just seems more appropriate⏤the type of fancy shit drake and his family would say.”

Tim Drake Wayne…

Dinner with him and his freak-a-zoid family was like trying to make it past no-man’s land without any help to shield you from the straight up chilling vibes they gave off with their constant comments about bat facts. Bats. The atmosphere during the entire time you spent there was dreadful and quite literally heavy since Tim's youngest little brother wanted to sneak stares at you as if you wouldn’t notice his bug-looking eyes creeping into your soul.

Rich people really are weird, huh?

The Wayne family is nothing like how you expected them to be. They’re supposed to be cold, mysterious, and irresistibly enchanting, but all you’ve got are creepy vibes and a strong urge to stay away from them as much as possible. From the way Mr. Wayne made that weird comment about your father in the limo to how forcibly happy Richard or “Dick” was with you, you’ve come to an understanding that rich people are complete lunatics.

The Wayne family is full of a bunch of lunatics.

And you’re not afraid to voice that.

“There you go again,” Jaylene sighs when she notices the irritated expression on your face. “It’s never that serious, [Name]. You just hate everyone.”

“No, you don't get it! They were creepy as hell! Like… Like bats in dark caves coming at you all at once. They talk funny, they look funny⏤they act funny! What normal man name drops your mother’s name after knowing each other for about thirty minutes?”

Zarian huffs in amusement. “That’s the creepy part. How does Mr. Wayne know your name?”

“I dont know.” You run your fingers through your hair and lean back against the booth seat. “I don't want anything to do with them. Billionaire or not, how the hell does he know my mother’s name.”

It was perhaps towards the end of your stay at the Wayne’s manor for dinner, and you knew you had to go home, so you had largely hinted at leaving to Drake. Everything had gotten wrapped up, but when you were just about to leave, Mr. Wayne had told you, “make sure to tell [M/n] I said hi.”

You could only stare at him in shock as your body carried along, because how does a man as famous and wealthy as bruce wayne know your mother⏤your mother? He’s the chief executive officer of Wayne Enterprises yet mentions your mother?

That moment alone is enough to wave every red flag in your brain that screams at you, telling you something is up with these shady people. The only question is what? What can a billionaire possibly want from you? Out of everything the world has to offer, the most influential billionaire in America wants to target some meager high school kid?

What do these people want from you? Is it a rich people thing to play around with those below you? Well, you guess it probably is. Like, is Mr. Wayne gonna pop out with his soulless eyes and say, ‘you’re my long lost child?’ or something?

You still don’t know why you’re being a goat stuffed before slaughtering. These people want something from you, but you? You’ve got nothing to offer that they could want. Why the hell do they even bother? If there's one thing you really hate, it’s being left in the dark like this. Not knowing is terrifying. It's dangerous. Not knowing means not being prepared, and if you’re not prepared, you won’t make it out. Damn it, you should’ve booked it the moment Mr. Wayne mentioned your father in the limo. Movies and shows always display rich people as eccentric and psychopathic weirdos, and now you’re finally believing it.

Damn it.

You’re in danger. Okay.

Maybe that’s an exaggeration. But maybe it’s not.

You’ve watched enough true crime and have enough intuition and trust in your gut to know when something is wrong.

It’s not adding up.

You’re not dumb. You see all the warnings there, but what if you're exaggerating. What if this is just the nature of the Waynes, and you think you’re special enough to be noticed by them? Mr. Wayne is a damn billionaire! He’s got the money to do whatever he wants, so it’s only natural for him to do a background check on everybody that interacts with his sons, right?

It’s all in your head… It’s all in your head.

Sighing, you stare at the plate of food in front of you, appetite long gone. Still, you grab a fork and continue to eat as Zarian and Jaylene scream back and forth next to you. Drake, who had accompanied the three of you to the diner after practice, has left, thankfully. He left as soon as his food arrived while talking about some family emergency, and honestly, you’re pretty damn grateful for that.

Ever since dinner at his house, he’s surrounded you like a pillow smothering you, and you can’t do anything about it. He’s a billionaire’s son, for fuck’s sake.

It doesn’t take long for you and your friends to finish up, and you all part ways at the door of the diner before you clutch the straps of your backpack and walk around the city endlessly. This is a habit for you now⏤a way to put off going home as much as possible ever since you found out your mother’s boyfriend doesn’t come home until one or two in the morning.

That balding, ugly, sleazy piece of shit.

He’s as gross as every other man your mother’s brought home under the terribly veiled illusion that he’ll provide her a good life and treat her right. No matter how many times you try to tell that blind bitc… No. It's wrong. It’s not your mother’s fault.

But it sometimes feels like that, though.

Most mother’s destroy their own lives for their children, yet yours cannot even think about leaving the man that beats her child on a daily. Those types of mothers leave their spouses the second they see something wrong, while your mother treats those finger-print bruises around your neck like a necklace instead of abuse.

You’ve given up on her. You gave up on her back when you were eleven years old locked in a room with her boyfriend, and she didn’t listen. Or when you were twelve. Or thirteen. Or fourteen. Or fifteen. Or sixteen. Or seventeen. And now eighteen.

And each day feels like a repetition of the same. Wake up, go to school, practice, walk around, go home, get beat, and sleep like none of it all happens. It’s a routine you despise with every fiber of your being⏤makes you wanna jump over Gotham City Bridge before thinking about returning home because who would want to? Who wants this average life?

A life where you’re not happy enough, not sad enough. Not good enough, not bad enough. Not energized enough, not tired enough. You feel like a survivor of a plane crash floating on a raft at the center of the endless ocean with no way out. Everything just seems so vast, wide, and unreachable. How can you find the shore on a simple raft? How can you find a way out of inescapable misery if it’s not by drowning?

You’ve been waiting to find the shore, but it’s been a whole eighteen years since you’ve found yourself floating along the ocean.

That whole “it’ll get better” shit is a tragic lie.

Whatever.

It doesn’t matter⏤not anymore, at least. You’re going to get far away from this place and never look back. Never have to relieve this wretched city. Never have to be confined by chains again. You’ve only a few months left before you’re free.

Until then, you’ll have to be patient and go home because the sun has fully disappeared.

Nothing but satellites twinkle in the disgustingly polluted sky of Gotham City, and the streets have come to a staggering halt as you stroll about the sidewalks, trying to find the longest path to get home. One in the morning is always the perfect time in Gotham because it’s too late and too early to be outside, so it’s generally safe for a walk.

Of course, the universe likes to prove you wrong at every point.

The sound of a thud followed by a pained groan behind you has your legs locked and ready to run with your brain screaming alerts, but you take a deep breath and turn around. How bad can it get, anyways? The sight before you surprised you nonetheless. It’s… Nightwing, a Bludhaven hero, here in Gotham, just randomly popping up behind you?

With clear bleeding cuts and sprouting bruises across his body.

In the random alley you just happen to be in?

No. You’re looking into it too much.

His eyes lock onto and they make you freeze right then and there like he’s cast some spell upon you. But that’s for a cold, brief second before you’re hooking your thumbs under the straps of your backpacks and turning around hot on your heels, refusing to spare him a single second. 

You even hear him murmur a strained, “wait,” but you don't care. 

It’s rude, mean, cruel, and it’s also none of your business. All you simply do is walk ahead to your approaching doom with an pit of unease and bitter understanding of your helplessness in your stomach. You can already feel the soon-to-be new bruises blooming along your back.

You’re not a good person.

But, really, who is?

Smoking really does skill.

But now you know why people do it.

Each drag is more out of necessity than it is a choice ever since you’ve met your friend’s plug at the dumb age of sixteen, but it's a way to dull the harsh truth of reality. The world just fades into nothing but muted and mixed colors like the loud city underneath your balcony it blurs into a faint hum the longer you stare at the spiral puffs of smoke that disappear into the air. 

Everything’s bitter⏤the joint and you.

Really bitter at the blood semi-dried on your face and the dull ache along your back.

You’ve got about an hour and a half until you have to head out to school, so what other way is there to spend it than smoking away your brain? The joint’s a temporary escape, but it helps you stall whatever new feeling of despair you’ll feel for the day. Until you’re interrupted by your phone buzzing⏤the sound still a dull hum in your ears

“... Hello?”

“[Name]!”

Zarian’s voice?

“Where the hell are you? Hurry up and get to school or else you’re gonna get in trouble for not helping to set up the club fair, and coach will be on our ass! And don't forget to bring money for the tickets!”

Coach?... Club fair?... Club fair! Holy shit!

Your eyes shoot open, and you frantically scramble up, tossing the joint over the balcony railing before hectically staggering through the living room like a drunk man. Damn it, how could you be so clueless and forget such an important event? Especially one you need money for! Damn it⏤damnit! What do you do?

… Mom! She’s got a box of money somewhere in her closet, right? You’ve seen it before! It's just twenty dollars, and she wont notice. Okay… Okay. You’re quick to get ready. You wash away all the blood that’s dried on your face, brush your teeth, and change into baggy jeans and a clean shirt before storming into your mother’s bedroom and rummaging through her things. 

She’s off at work. Her bastard boyfriend doesn't come home until late at night, which means he’s probably already taken money for the day. Okay. That's fine. They won't notice.

But you can't find anything! What the hell? Where is that fucking box? You could’ve sworn it was there on the top shelf last night, but as you swipe your hands across everything on the shelf, you can’t find it. All of a sudden, something made of wood hits the top of your head and falls to the ground with a crack. You hiss, palm moving to cover where you got hit, but your eyes land on the box that now has money strewn all across the floor and a broken… false bottom?

What the fuck.

You pull away at the rest of the false bottom to only be met with countless photos of you as a child with your mother. Mom’s shit boyfriend had all the family photos taken down for some weird reason, so they’ve been here this entire time? All of these photos are full of you throughout every stage of your life, but some have different people in them as well. Their faces are either scratched out or they’re ripped out of the photo entirely.

From what you can gather, the figures are a man and what seems to be a teenage boy. The absurdity and even slight creepiness of the scratched out faces has you laughing, yet even with your now dulled senses, your eyes land on a photo you failed to notice earlier. Maybe you’re hallucinating. There must be something wrong with your brain. Or your eyes. The universe must be playing with you because is that a photo of you and a teenage-looking dick grayson?

Your eyes widen because it looks just like the strange man you had the unfortunate opportunity of having a conversation with during dinner with the Waynes. It’s him! More importantly, why the hell is he holding a ‘three year old’ you’s hand? You probably should be screaming. Yelling. Maybe panicking? But all you can do is shuffle through the rest of the box before your fingers graze against something metal that has your heart jumping.

It’s a small camera.

With a bat engraved on its side.

Ears ringing so loudly in your head you can't even think, you wipe your teary and red eyes hastily before grabbing a twenty dollar bill, putting everything except for the photo and camera in the box, set it back on the closet shelf, and hastily grab your backpack before making way to school.

The second you reach the damned place, you seek out your now three friends and drop into a seat with a heavy thud, sighing and meeting Tim's eyes with a burning gaze.

“You mean to tell me [Name] found the camera? And you decided to tell me after school?”

Time Drake Wayne sighs and runs his fingers through his black hair, shrugging apathetically while scrolling through every photo in his phone that he’s taken of you during the club fair. His brother, Richard, is pacing throughout his room anxiously as he rambles off about their latest fuckup. 

“Look, Bruce doesn't let any slip ups happen,” Tim murmurs in exasperation. “He wouldn't let this happen because [Name]’s mom and him talked this morning. Relax, he probably knows.”

It's not a lot, but it’s enough to calm Richard down. The man takes a deep breath but finds himself sitting down next to Tim, trying to get a good look at the pictures. “How mad was [Name]?”

“High, for starters, but clearly pissed off. Very observant, too.”

“Don’t tell anyone else. Not until Bruce gives us the okay.”

TAGLIST :

@ilovemyhusbandnanami (so real), @missikkj, @ferakillia, @darlinqvi, @soriansick, @sleepydhanie, @h0rr0r-10ver-69 (love ur blog aesthetic bae), @anuttellaa (OK WINX ��), @feral-childs-word (love the pfp), @shycreatorreview, @friesandfixations, @stuff6969fuckyou, @babiebubsie, @jsprien213, @cattioo, @cherrydaisymanic (cheetah?leopard? printttt 😍), @00hellohello00, @princessloveweird, @amber-content, @idonthaveanameforthisacc, @f1lover4ever, @dreamsarenicer, @imaginarydreams, @solkara (love the calm aesthetic), @bobfood, @toast-on-dandelioms, @ijustfuckme, @cantfindmelol, @xx1shadow1xx, @azulawayne, @box-of-kinderjoy, @iamaunknownsecret, @missybabes, @phoenixgurl030, @couldeatthatgirlforlunch, @devils-blackrose, @arevvv, @freakthis, @yourhornysister, @kirahhhh, @perfectparadisegardener, @testishere, @spaceunicorn293, @vanilliona (love the pfpp), @uknowimdumb, @esposadomd, @dakotali, @lilyalone, @kore-of-the-underworld, @pix-stuff, @hellcatsworld, @chericia, @mspoisoncoil (love the bannnnerrr) , @devotedlyshamelessdetective, @cheeseburgercasserole (love the aesthetic), @twismare

so follow me n repost if u want part lll. and somebody pls explain hsr and love and deepspace lore to me. making a taglistttttt. if this post doesnt get as many likes as the first one, im deleting this series 😭. if u see a grammatical mistake, no u didnt 😃🔪

if anybody’s got requests about this series or in general, feel free to ask!!!

WAIT!! FOLLOW MY WATTPAD ACCOUNT : @depresssant. I JUS PUBLISHED A HISTORICAL YANDERE X READER STORY

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Physically Can’t not Smile

This is related to my Barely Human Marvel post from a while ago. In that post, Marvel is basically a being that looks human, acts like a human, but isn’t a human. (Of course, Billy is human, but his Captain Marvel form is basically a doll with flesh. I don’t think I even made him able to bleed) But, in this one, Marvel’s face is literally curved into a smile all the time because Billy’s last memories of his dad all consist of him smiling.

Imagine, Black Adam is beating his face in. He’s hitting the Champion as hard as he can, and they’re literally inside of a crater that was made from Teth hitting him so hard. He’s on top of Marvel and just hitting and hitting him over and over again, and during it all, he’s still smiling. The champions nose is bleeding, and one of his eyes is bloodshot. And yet, during all the punches he’s enduring he’s still smiling. He would be lying if he said it didn’t irritate him.

Then, there was Marvel’s first run in with the Joker. The clown had come after him after Billy met him while in Gotham.

//flashback//

Marvel: “Thanks, Batman. I don’t know how bad it would’ve been if that Joker guy got his hands on the Dream Stone.”

Batman: “Hn.” (Translation: Believe me when I say I know. Now shoo.)

Marvel: “Okay, okay. I’ll get out of your hair.” *hovers off the ground and is about to leave when he does a double take* “Is that a mecha?”

Joker: *inside of giant robot Joker, looking down at them*

Batman: *sighs* “Yes. It’s a mecha.” *pulls out grappling hook and makes his way up there*

Marvel: “Huh.” *watches him go before flying away to the rock*

//flashback end//

The Joker now has a bunch of people held hostage in a little cage that’ll be filled with Joker Venom. As of yet, the Clown Prince of Crime is having a bit of a hard time deciding whether he likes or hates the fact that Marvel is still smiling in the face of many people screaming and begging for help. He decides he likes it though when Marvel tells him that he’s simply smiling because his face was made that way. Now, the reason he likes it is because he finds that hilarious because of his random ahh Joker reasons. He even burst out into laughter when Marvel told him that. He laughed harder when he found out Marvel took care of the problem by inhaling all the gas from their canisters so it couldn’t be expelled anywhere. Though, he was a little bummed to find out the gas doesn’t affect Marvel.

Speaking of the Joker, we gotta talk about Batman. At first, he thought that the whole smiling thing was just apart of his character as Captain Marvel. Then, when he met Marvel he realized it wasn’t like a role he was playing, no, he actually smiles and is positive all the time. Then, he realized, oh wait, never mind, his face is just like that. His personality on the other hand was actually sunshine and rainbows though. After about half a year of knowing the Captain though, Bruce thinks he has a pretty good read on him.

Normal big smile (normally showing teeth) = happy go lucky normal Marvel.

Normal small smile (sometimes not showing not as many teeth) = only comes out when he’s tired but seeing as Marvel, and Bruce quotes, “can’t get tired” it’s extremely rare.

Small closed smile = could be still happy, could be upset, could be annoyed. Bruce has seen it’s more associated with negative emotions though.

Wobblyish smile = definitely upset in some sort of way. It looks like he’s trying to frown but he can’t. Bruce suspects that he could frown at some point but can’t anymore for whatever reasons.

Then, there’s the time Mary nearly died and he pulled her aside to scold her. The JL decided to spy just in case anything got physical. They were then greeted to Marvel yelling. Like actually yelling. They’d never seen Cap yell. And not only that, but he was crying. While smiling. And he has one of those little wobbly smiles too. So everyone knows he’s actually really upset at this. Mary yelled back saying how he wasn’t her father and how he shouldn’t act like it. He told her he wasn’t trying to be her father. In response, he was told to stop acting like it. This caused the man to sigh and soon after the two left.

The other JL members with kids were sympathetic, but the next day Marvel was back to being himself. (Mary and him made up afterwords)

[genderqueerdykes]

trans men and women learn a lot from each other when we get close and it's a wonderful thing. it's okay to be dysphoric about manhood. it's okay to be dysphoric about womanhood. it's okay to not like he/him pronouns, to not like she/her pronouns. it's okay to not like how strangers gender you. it's okay to talk about these things with each other, to share mutual disgust, to see how it affects one another and how it shapes our identities and experiences.

it's okay to talk about the things that make you uncomfortable together. it's not invalidating each other's experiences to have conversations like saying "i'm so tired of being seen as a man no matter what, and being around people who treat me like a man" to a trans man and having the trans man respond by saying "i feel the same way about people who treat me like a woman" and agree to not project one's trauma on to the other

it's okay to be vulnerable. it's okay to admit when we don't understand certain parts of each others experiences, too. we do NOT have to act like experts and like we've "read the book" on what another person's gender is. even if we think we know a lot about that gender, we don't know everything, because we don't know everyone. literally. it's okay to go "i don't understand, but I'll call you whatever you identify as." and be receptive without knowing exactly what they mean.

we don't understand many things in life. that's fine. it's okay to just listen and not talk for once. you don't have to try to speak as though you've lived as a trans man when you're a trans women, and you don't have to speak for trans women if you're a trans man. we are allowed to advocate for our own experiences and simultaneously listen to other queer experiences and respect their boundaries, spaces, and needs.

there is a lot to learn about the challenges that trans women face, the unique struggles that come with some being raised as boys and the troubles that come with that, being seen as a feminine boy, being subjected to homophobia- getting called faggots and other slurs. some were raised as girls, some are intersex, and some are afab or other birth sexes, and the mixing of masculinity and femininity and cause a lot of issues when it comes to how society treats that person

there are lots of conversations that have to be listened to when it comes to the transmasculine experience and how nobody but transmasc people can articulate what it's like to live as a transmasculine person. no one can speculate on it, because it is such a unique experience. it is a complicated matter of several different types of prejudice that no one else can quite understand where it comes from and how it feels unless they've been there

it is so deeply rooted in misogyny, where people treat us like "stupid, confused women," like we're "destroying children" that we're 'destroying our bodies', that our hormones make us "unstable, irritable and emotional," and that we are unreliable narrators. we get called hysterical. we get told we're "ruining a pretty girl" or wasting our "pretty" features. we get lectured about how we need to be attractive and how testosterone will ruin that by our own parents. we get told we can't dress masc because it will make us "ugly" or "butch" or "dykes".

people hate it when we bind our breasts, cut our hair, hide our curves, change our gait, and stop wearing makeup. they lose a "girl" to ogle and become enraged, upset or uncomfortable. while the transmasc person is trying to navigate life in a way where they don't feel objectified, it becomes a matter of even worse objectification because now antimasculism is introduced into the mix and the experience becomes transandrophobia.

people are so hateful and bitter toward manhood and masculinity. people ask us "why would you EVER want to be a man? NOBODY wants to be a man." they tell us "men are ugly, violent, and mean." people tell us that men are sexual predators, that they're inherently abusive. people tell us that testosterone makes people ugly. they tell us that men aren't or can't be queer. they tell us we can't be a feminine man. they tell us we can't be men at all, that transmasculinity isn't even a thing, that transmanhood isn't a thing. we even get told that the only way to be trans is to be transfeminine, and what we are experiencing is a delusion, hysteria, or a result of us being hormonal from being on our periods and/or HRT.

when we listen to each others' experiences we realize how people who are othered by society are treated. we learn that not only we experiencing this, but so is everyone around us. we do not have to try to make one side's experience more important than another's. we can hold each other up by having conversations and being vulnerable about what's going on, how we're being treated, how we want to be treated, and how the community is failing us and how we can do better.

we deserve to have conversations. there's a lot to learn, a lot to laugh about, a lot to relate to, and a lot to be curious about. these conversations are good to have. it's good to admit when you know nothing about transmasculinity or transfemininity or any other identity. it's okay to ask respectful questions. it's okay to tell people when you appreciate their identities, and them explaining it to you. it's okay to just listen. it really is. we have to learn to listen it's not something that can be avoided perpetually for life. listening to someone else's conversation does not erase yours, it does not take it away from the equation. they exist together.

[badkitty3000]

there wouldnt be any way u wld write a slightly sub five fic like you did with him and vivi? .... :)))

Ask and you shall receive! In this one, you and Five are working as trained assassins and you're not exactly happy with him. Enjoy! 😽

Coercion

Five x Reader One-shot, 5,202 words

Warnings: Smut, light bondage (very light), light dom/sub, oral sex

If Five noticed your silent treatment on the drive over to the crappy motel, he hadn’t let on. You waited with increasing irritation as he took his sweet time getting the room key out and opening the door. If you weren’t set on not talking to him, you would have not-so-gently reminded him that he didn’t need a damn key in the first place, but you let him struggle instead. Once he opened the door for you, you pushed past him and threw your bag and rifle case on the one sad and saggy double bed in the room. You crossed your arms over your chest, looking around with a scowl.

“This place is a dump.”

Five shrugged, setting his own bags down on the floor and shrugging his suit jacket off before placing it on the back of the one chair provided.

“It’s not great, I’ll admit, but could be worse.”

His casual tone told you he had not, indeed, picked up on your anger. As you stood there, glaring daggers in his direction, he finally looked up and had the nerve to act surprised.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked.

You put your hands on your hips. “You want to tell me what the hell that was back there?”

Five balked, the innocent look on his face aggravating you even more. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

With a loud huff, you turned to start unpacking your bag. “Of course you don’t.”

There was a pause and then Five sighed. “Well, are you going to tell me what you’re mad about, or do I have to start guessing?”

“You seriously don’t know?” you asked, spinning to face him.

He shook his head, putting his hands in his pockets in that way that told you he was starting to get fed up with your passive-aggressiveness. “No, I seriously don’t know.”

You gestured in the vague direction of the door, indicating the outside world you’d just come in from. “Out there. When you literally pushed me out of the way and took my shot.”

Five rolled his eyes and sighed. “That? You’re mad about that?”

“You knocked me on the ground!”

“I helped you back up,” he said with a smirk.

You made a frustrated growling noise and clenched your fists together. “That’s not the point! You’re supposed to be my partner! You’re supposed to support me! I had the fucking shot!”

Five hung his head and then looked back up with a grin that you immediately wanted to smack off his face. He walked over to you and placed his hands on your shoulders, cocking his head to the side in a condescending way.

“As your long-suffering partner, of course I support you 100%. But I’m not going to sit there and watch you make an error that could get you or both of us killed.”

You scowled up at him and shook yourself free from his grasp. “That’s a bunch of horse shit and you know it! I had that shot set up perfectly. Just because you can’t handle a little competition does not mean you get to just shove me out of the way like that.”

He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes again. “You did not have it set up perfectly. You would have missed.”

“I would not have,” you spat back between clenched teeth.

“With the way you were aiming and the fact that you hadn’t accounted for wind trajectory and velocity, you absolutely would have missed.”

You threw your hands in the air. “Of course, I factored in the wind trajectory! What do you think I am, a moron?”

“Of course I don’t. Stop being so dramatic.”

“That’s it,” you snapped, turning back to your bag on the bed. “I’ve had enough. I’m asking for a new partner when we get back.”

“Oh, is that right? You’re just going to waltz in there and ask for a new partner?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Because whoever else they can pair me up with has to be better than someone that can’t possibly admit when they’re wrong.”

“Uh-huh,” Five nodded. “You going to ask for a new husband, too, while you’re at it?”

“Maybe I will!”

“I don’t think that’s how that works, darling.”

A few seconds passed and you felt his arms wrap around your middle from behind. He rubbed his face into your hair and kissed your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said, not in the least bit convincingly, and you could feel the smile on his face.

“I don’t think you are.”

He moved your hair away from your neck and kissed the side. “I’m so very, very sorry. And if you come join me in the shower, I can show you how sorry I am.”

You closed your eyes and held your breath for a few seconds before letting it out in a loud exhale. He always knew how to get to you. And how to make you weak for him. But this time you were not going to give in. You were still too pissed.

“No, thank you,” you responded brusquely.

You felt that smirk against your neck again, before he moved down to your collarbone, using his teeth to very gently scrape across it over your shirt. Your mouth pressed together in a straight line as you tried not to give in.

“Please, sweetheart. You know you can’t stay mad at me,” Five mumbled against your neck. “Especially when I saved your life.”

“RAHHH!” You yelled, turning around so quickly that Five stumbled backward in surprise. “You did not save my life or anyone else’s! I had the shot!”

Five ran a hand down his face. “Ok, honey, you had the shot. I clearly don’t know what I’m talking about. Can we move on?”

As you stared at him with rage, you had to remind yourself that you really did love him. He was your husband after all, and it’s not like this is the first time his arrogance had created a rift between you two. And he was right when he said you couldn’t stay mad at him. You knew damn well it was just a matter of hours (probably less) before you’d give in and he’d have you on your back, moaning and crying for him, after accepting his half-ass apology and letting him make it up to you. Because, fuck, he really did know how to make you forget why you were mad at him in the first place.

Even though you were not ready to forgive him quite yet, you couldn’t help looking over his body, and the way that tailored suit fit him just right. Other married couples you knew had lost that lust for each other over the years. But not you two. It was usually part of your work routine to come back to your shithole motel after a day of hard-earned assassinations, and not be able to get one another’s clothes off fast enough. There was something about a loud and rough post-kill fuck that neither of you could get enough of.

You saw that flicker of amusement behind his eyes and a tiny bit of a smirk at the corner of his mouth, and you decided you really were still mad at him. But that anger was turning into something else. Something you could possibly use to your advantage.

Taking a few steps forward, you grabbed his tie in your fist and pulled him roughly into you. “We can absolutely move on. But here’s the thing. I’m still not buying your apology, so you can drop that little act. I do, however, have a way you can make it up to me.”

Five smiled. “And what’s that, love?”

“Get on the bed and I’ll show you.” You tugged harder on his tie. “Now.”

Five raised an eyebrow. He was not used to being ordered around in the bedroom, or anywhere else, for that matter. He did the ordering. You waited to see his reaction.

You could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to figure out if he wanted to play along or counter with his own demands. And truth be told, you’d probably give in immediately if he took charge like usual.

He gave a small nod of assent and you let go of the tie. He sat on the side of the bed and waited for you to direct him.

“Lie down,” you instructed.

Five did as he was told, lying down on the bed, stretched out on his back. That small, smart-ass smile was creeping back again and it was only fueling your desire to dominate him.

You shoved the bag and your gear off the bed and climbed on. You were still dressed in your own matching suit, although yours was fitted and tailored for a woman. Your shoes were kicked off and you threw your blazer to the side and ripped off your tie. Then you straddled Five’s thighs and looked down on him with an overly sweet smile.

“You are all mine, now. Isn’t that right, darling?” you said, using his usual pet name for you.

Five paused but nodded slowly again. “Yes.”

“And you’re going to let me use you however I want to, right?”

His eyebrows creased together and his mouth opened partially. You figured this would be where he would protest. To your surprise, he didn’t. “Yes,” he agreed.

“Such a good boy,” you praised, cocking your head to the side. “But, you know…I just don’t trust you. I think I need a little more assurance that you’re going to stay put.” You dropped the fake smile. “Hands over your head.”

Five hesitated only for a second before he stretched his arms over his head so that his hands were close to the headboard. You scooted your body up a little and grabbed his tie, unknotting it and pulling it out from the collar of his shirt. Wrapping the tie around his wrists and securing it to the headboard, you made sure to make the knot extra tight. You knew, of course, that Five had the same training you did and could easily get out of his restraint. Not to mention his handy superpowers that meant he was nearly impossible to imprison.

He pulled against the tie, but it was secure. He shook his head. “You do have amazing knot-tying skills, my love, but you do know I can just blink out of this, right?”

Of course you knew that, but you just looked down on him with an amused smile. “I don’t think you’ll be doing that.”

“And why not?”

“Because if you do, then you’re not going to be getting anywhere near this pussy tonight. And I know that’s what you’re dying for.”

You gave a little push against his groin while you were straddling him and he groaned quietly.

“So, here’s how this is going to go. You’re going to do everything I say. I get to decide when you’re going to eat me and if or when I’m going to use that big cock of yours. And I don’t really care how you get off, but you better make sure I come first. Understand?”

“Yes,” Five said softly, licking his lips.

With your thighs still hugging either side of his waist, you started to unbutton your shirt, exposing your tits that were spilling over the white lace bra you were wearing. You knew Five loved this bra. He had picked it out for you. And he liked you in white because he liked knowing his assassin wife was dressed like an angel underneath her blood-stained clothes. You were a ruthless killer, just like him, but he knew the real you. Inside you were pure and you loved him unconditionally.

You were still going to torture the hell out of him, though.

Throwing your shirt off to the side, you let him have a good look at you while you ran your hands up your sides and onto your breasts. You squeezed them together and rubbed the tips of your fingers over your hardened nipples. You looked him directly in the eyes and traced your bottom lip with your tongue. Five groaned and you felt his dick come to life under you. When you ground down onto him, he let out another gravelly noise and pushed his hips up; his cock becoming fully hard.

You leaned down and kissed his mouth, pausing to bite at his bottom lip with your teeth before pulling away. His breath began to quicken as you unbuttoned his white dress shirt, tugging the bottom out of his pants and opening it to reveal his chiseled torso. You made a soft whimpering sound and slid the palms of your hands down his chest, over his stomach, and down to his waist. Your hair brushed over his skin as you leaned down to place a line of teasing kisses down his body, starting at his neck and traveling down to his navel. You could taste the salt from his skin and smell his familiar scent that you couldn’t get enough of.

“Oh, Five…do you know how hot you are? The things I want to do to you?”

“Do anything you want. I’m all yours, sweetheart,” he breathed out.

You gave a small shake of your head, like you couldn’t believe he was already acting up for you, and then placed a light slap onto his cheek. “No talking unless I say so. Just lay there and look pretty for me, ok honey?”

Five gave a short laugh, but he shut up and didn’t say anything else. He shifted his body under you and you gave him a squeeze with your thighs. He was all laid out there for you, shirt open and his hands tied behind his head. Usually, you would be the one pinned underneath him, writhing in anticipation. Now things were totally in your control.

After one more aggressive roll of your hips into his, you climbed off the bed to undress yourself the rest of the way. Five watched each movement you made and when you were down to just your white, sheer panties that matched your bra, you smiled when he pulled at the tie again in frustration.

You liked to tease him, but you also had a few other plans in mind, and for that, you needed to be fully nude. Making sure he was watching closely, you shimmied out of your panties and stripped your bra off. Once you were naked, with Five practically salivating at the sight of you, you climbed back on top of him.

You rubbed yourself against his hard cock, trapped beneath the fine material of his dress pants. The firm bulge slid between your legs, adding a delicious amount of friction as you rocked your hips against him a few times. Five closed his eyes and let out a low groan.

“So hard for me already.” You pushed yourself down and he grunted. “I like that.” You tilted your head to the side as you continued to work him over, letting him watch as you humped his clothed cock; grinding down until you were sure it was a mixture of pleasure and pain for him. He hissed through gritted teeth and closed his eyes.

Taking a little bit of pity on the poor old man, and also not wanting to risk the chance that he may just come in his pants, you stopped gyrating on top of him. You moved down a little so that you could have access to the fly of his pants. You slowly unzipped his fly before shoving your hand in, cupping his balls through his boxers, and rubbing your palm over his erection. He was clearly trying to restrain himself, but you could see the way he desperately wanted more. His hips pushed up into your hand as he swallowed hard and sucked in a loud breath.

Five’s head fell back as you pulled his pants and underwear off, leaving them in a pile on the floor with the rest of your clothes. He was left in just his open dress shirt and nothing else, his arms stretched over his head and his hands bound to the headboard. It was the sexiest fucking sight you’d ever seen.

You were on top of him again, this time avoiding the urge to rub yourself on his dick, even though it was tempting as hell. But you wanted him to squirm a little bit more. Instead, you leaned down and kissed him roughly on the mouth, tangling your hand in his hair and pulling hard. Your tongue slipped inside and you sucked at his lips, devouring him. When you gave a severe bite to his lower lip, he winced and jerked against his restraints. You dragged your tongue across, licking up the few drops of blood that had seeped out. Your breath was ragged and loud as you sat back again.

“Sorry, baby,” you breathed out. “I got a little carried away because you’re just so fucking gorgeous. You ok?”

Five looked up at you, breathing hard as one side of his mouth turned up, accentuating the dimple on the side of his cheek. He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, licking at the blood, and nodded.  

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Good. Because I have plans for that beautiful mouth of yours.”

With that as your warning, you crept up his body until his face was between your legs. On your knees, you grabbed onto the top of the headboard. He couldn’t hold onto you, or adjust his body too much underneath you, but you lowered yourself until you could feel his hot mouth against your wet and aching sex.

Five knew what you liked and how you liked it. He knew how to work you over with his lips and tongue. He moaned into you as he dragged his warm tongue up through your slit, tasting all of you. You whined loudly as you tipped your head back, closing your eyes. Everything felt so damn good; his tongue flicking at your clit, the warm wetness of his mouth as it completely engulfed you, and the stubble from his five o’clock shadow scratching your inner thighs. It was hard to hold back. You wanted to push down harder and start riding his face. As you grasped onto the headboard, you let out a high-pitched noise of frustrated restraint, allowing yourself to thrust onto him a few times before letting up again. After all, you didn’t want to suffocate the poor man. But fuck, it was incredible, and he was slowly driving you insane.

Five hummed, the noise muffled by the constant grinding of your dripping cunt against his mouth.

“Five…oh my god…” you groaned out. “You’re doing so good for me, baby…so fucking good.”

If you had a little bit more clarity about you, you may have noticed him laughing briefly before sucking and licking at you again. He wasn’t missing the irony of you using his usual comments of praise on him.

As you were lost in your own little paradise, you could feel him pushing his hips up, desperate for some sort of contact. You had hardly paid much attention to his cock yet, and he was starting to become a little desperate. You smiled down at him, still rolling your hips against his face.

“I know, sweetheart, I know. Keep going just a little longer, ok? Then I’ll give you what you want.”

You almost laughed at yourself. You really could not believe he was letting you get away with this. You expected him to blink out of his restraints at any second, appearing behind you before fucking you ferociously, all while reminding you who was really in charge. Instead, he continued letting you call the shots. And he sure as hell didn’t seem to be minding it.

Reaching behind you, you gave him one slow stroke up his hard shaft, making him momentarily lose concentration.

“Oh, fuuuck…” he groaned out. The words vibrated against you and you followed it with your own moan.

Which gave you an idea. You climbed off of Five’s face, letting him get in a couple of good gulps of air, while you repositioned yourself over him again; this time facing the opposite direction. You leaned forward, taking his cock in your hand and giving it a teasing lick around the head. When he made another desperate noise, you could feel the exhale of his breath against your wet pussy as you hovered over him.

“Do you want me to suck your dick, baby? Would that feel good?” you asked sweetly, giving it another lick up the side.

You felt another hiss of air against your skin. “God, yes,” he breathed out.

“Alright, I can do that for you. But you better keep eating me out, because if you stop, I stop. Got it?”

“Yeah, yeah, got it,” he whined and you smirked at his obvious need.

When your lips wrapped around his girth and slid down the shaft, slowly and deliberately, his hips thrust up into your face, making you swallow the entire thing, the head driving down your throat. As you began to gag and pull back, he relaxed back onto the bed. You removed your mouth and glanced back over your shoulder.

“If you do that again, you’re not going to get anything at all. So hold. Still,” you warned, squeezing his dick slightly just to remind him who was calling the shots.

There was a quiet huff of frustration, but he didn’t argue. When your mouth was back on him, he kept still, just like you instructed. You felt his tongue flick inside of your dripping hole as he lapped into you and you pushed your backside into him again. As long as he continued to mouth fuck you how you wanted, you continued to suck his dick. It was hard to concentrate and every time he moaned, you did it back in response because it made it that much hotter. The longer you worked his cock over, and the longer he ate you out, the more you wanted to feel him inside you.

Taking your mouth off of him, you moved again, turning around so you were facing him, kneeling between his legs. Five’s mouth was red and swollen, glistening and wet. His chest was heaving with the effort of trying to catch his breath after you were sitting on his face and from the amazing blow job you had just been giving him. You were panting, too, and you ran your hands down his torso as you started to straddle his waist. When you leaned down to kiss him, you grabbed his hair in your fist and pulled his head back.

“God, I love you, Five,” you snarled, before you were back to kissing him roughly again, sliding your tongue inside.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he groaned against your lips.

“I want to fuck you so badly right now. Do you want that? Want to sink your rock-hard cock into my tight hole that’s only for you?”

Five nodded, looking into your eyes with the desperation of a man who was on the edge. “Shit, yes, baby…I want you to fuck me.”

You pulled your mouth to the side and shook your head. You lined yourself up with his dick, rubbing your wet slit up and down, making him suck in a loud breath and close his eyes.

“Before I let that delicious dick inside, I need one more little thing from you, ok?”

He nodded slowly again, trying to thrust up into you, but you held tight. “Yeah, sure, whatever. Just…god damn it…what is it?”

You leaned in close to his face, your mouth less than an inch from his, and you grinned wickedly. “Admit I had the shot.”

Five was silent as he took that in, but his eyebrows furrowed together. “Excuse me?”

You tugged at his hair again and slid your slick folds over his shaft. Five grunted. “You heard me. All you have to do is admit I had the shot and that you just wanted it for yourself. Then I promise that I’ll ride you like a fucking bronco until you're filling me up with your cum. It’s so easy,” you cooed with fluttering eyelashes and a sweet smile.

The only sounds in the room were those of your collective, ragged breaths as you both waited each other out. It was a standoff. But you were pretty sure you had the upper hand. There’s no way he was going to be able to hold out.

He breathed out a long, loud exhale. “Fine. You had the shot.”

You smiled. “And?”

“And I just wanted it for myself,” he said quietly and clearly unhappily.

“So, you admit that I know what I am doing and you, Five Hargreeves, are not the only one out there that has a brain?”

Five growled, his teeth clenched together and his body jerking beneath you. “Yes! Fuck! I admit it…I told you! You were right, I was wrong. Now please…just fuck me!” His voice cracked with his begging.

You brought your hand down, tracing the lines of his jaw. “Thank you, my love. That’s all I wanted.” You gave him another patronizing smack on the cheek, this one just a little harder than you had before, which you only just realized a second too late. His head turned to the side with the force of it and a light pink mark was left in its wake.

His eyes flashed with that steeliness you had seen from him many times in the past. That darkness that would come over him when he would look at you like the prey he was about to consume. A small smile formed on his face, his dimple peeking through and creating a contrast of severity and innocence as he looked you dead in the eyes. Your pulse quickened at the sight and suddenly you weren’t feeling so in control anymore.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he said slowly in that dangerous voice of his. “I think we’re done with this game.”

You swallowed loudly. You didn’t think you could have gotten any wetter than you already were, but you were proven wrong when you felt a rush between your legs as your breath hitched in your throat.

There was one more second of eye contact before you were collapsing onto the bed on all fours, a flash of blue surrounding you, and Five’s body no longer beneath yours. There was no time to register what was happening before you felt strong hands on either side of your hips, pulling your ass back while you cried out in surprise. There was also no time before Five’s hard cock was slamming inside of you in one thrust. His hand gripped your hair as he started fucking you.

“Five!” you exclaimed, inhaling a stuttering breath as he continued to rail into you. “That’s too…oh, fuck…keep going.”

You heard a quiet laugh from behind you, right before your body was tugged upward by your hair, and Five’s mouth was on your neck, his harsh breath warming your already hot skin. His other hand snaked around to finger your throbbing clit and you tipped your head back with a pleading whine.

“Oh god…yes, Five…please…”

“Fuck, I love to hear you beg for me. Keep going...beg me to let you come on my dick. Beg for my cum inside you."

"Ahh...please, Five..." you could hardly think of words or any coherent thoughts as he kept driving himself inside you. "...please...come inside me!"

"That's what I needed...you're always so good for me," he said tenderly next to your ear before pressing harder into you with his fingers and rubbing circles against you.

Damn it, he always knew how to get to you. It had been a fun game while it lasted, but you both knew this was what you really wanted. To be dominated and praised by him. To be owned by him.

You came for him, just like he wanted, crying out his name and trembling against his body as he held you to him with all of his strength. He followed soon after, groaning into your neck and shoulder; his face pressed into you as he emptied himself inside you with long, pumping shudders of his hips against your ass.

When you were both left panting for air, skin damp and bodies weak, he moved from behind you and you laid down on your side. Five fell onto his back, his chest still working for air as he looked over at you with a smile that you returned. He leaned in and gave you a quick kiss.

“I knew you couldn’t stay mad at me,” he smirked.

You scoffed. “I had you begging for me and you confessed to being a big liar!”

Five shrugged. “Confessions given under coercion are considered false and inadmissible in court. I think you know that. Therefore, I admit nothing.”

Your mouth hung open for a second and your eyes narrowed. “I swear to god, Five, I really am going to get a new part—”

He cut you off with a kiss and a gentle hand on the side of your face. When you pulled away his smile had evolved from arrogant to sweet and loving. He stroked your cheek and lips with his thumb.

“You know I love you more than anything in the world and I would never do anything to get in your way or to try and make you look bad. You are my amazing, sexy, smart, bad-ass wife who can do everything I can do and more. So, I swear to you when I say—”

“I know,” you said quietly with a nod. “I was going to miss, wasn’t I?”

He kissed you again. “Maybe. Maybe not. But when it comes to you, I’m not taking any chances.”

You nodded again. “I know that. And I couldn’t ask for a better partner or husband than you.” Then you grinned. “But if you knock me in the dirt again, you’re going to pay with more than just your hands tied over your head and a little slap to the face. Understand?”

Five laughed. “Fair enough. But you never know…I might like it.”

[amelee23]

Stray kids and their sneaky love antics | Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Stray kids members X reader (reader is implied to have periods in Felix's part but other than that no pronouns are used)

Genre: Fluff, comedy, bullet point

Warnings: sNeAkY bois, pranking and blaming it on ghosts, lino opens your bags without permission, overprotective behavior (??), they're all playing dumb, Jeongin is one feisty boy, periods, food (sweets) , lots of TEASING

Length: 2k total

A/N: It's all just for fun I swear 😂 I couldn't sleep last night so I came up with this lmao

Chan who always puts spare change in your jacket pockets

Maybe he noticed how you always seem to freeze on the spot or apologize awkwardly every time cashiers ask you if you have any change

Or maybe this is just his way of giving you money in a way you don't notice so you won't scold him for spoiling you (again)

You don't notice it at first, but you do breathe a sigh of relief when you actually do have some coins on your next purchase

And the next one...

And the next one after that...

Okay hold up, what the-

Is your jacket pocket an endless well of fortune??? You're taking out coins but they keep coming back???

Nah just joking of course you realized it was Chan

Especially since one day you caught him, like a gremlin in the dark, hovering around your jacket in the hallway

"Whatcha doing, boo?"

He jumps and tries to splutter some excuse to you but you're not impressed

"Ah, I wanted to ask you, do you have some spare change by any chance?" You tease him and he bursts out laughing and turns beet red

"You caught me!" He exclaims, still laughing as you drag him out of the dark to cuddle with you

"You sneaky coin goblin" you tease him further and ruffle his hair

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Lee know who always puts packets of sweet biscuits in your purse/ backpack

It's a habit for him, he's a caretaker - packets of snacks for all of his kittens (you included)

You told him you liked those packets of biscuits you bought from the supermarket last time

And you told him you get hungry often when you're not home

1+1=2

Lino buys biscuits. Lino puts said biscuits in your bag. And then he acts like nothing happened, of course

So when you come home one day, and look inside your bag and go "oh, how'd this get here?" he shrugs his shoulders.

"Aren't they yours?" And you're like sir what

"No? Maybe someone put them in my bag by mistake?"

"No no I'm pretty sure they're yours." He answers and you're like. Oh. I see how it is.

"And you had absolutely nothing do to with them, right?" You tease, and he purses his lips and shakes his head no

"Well then if they're mine, let's eat them!" You explain, and Lino snatches them out of your hand lmao

"No, I'm pretty sure they were there so you can eat them when you get hungry outside."

"Wow it's so weird you know that considering you had nothing to do with them!" Oh he's trying so hard to keep a straight face but he's failing

So you put them back in your bag and actually keep them as an emergency snack. And then send lino a pic with the empty foil saying "thank you <3" and he literally replies with "thank the ghosts not me. I told you I had nothing to do with it."

The ghosts continued to put biscuits in your bag

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Changbin who always carries around a fanny pack with a tiny bottle of water inside in case you get thirsty outside

Changbin often showcases his care for others by looking after their health

Sometimes he can be a little irritating and pushy, always telling you to exercise and eat this and that and what not

You came to a compromise eventually, you're not gonna work out with him but you're gonna go out often and go on many walks

After all it's quality time, right?

But no no the mans come prepared

Always. Wether it's an intended walk for exercise or a walk for romantic vibes or you're going to the mall, doesn't matter

He always has that teeny tiny water bottle with him just so he can go like "you thirsty? I gotcha babe" lmao

Because as Changbin always says, "soda doesn't help with your thirst, only water does" 🙄

He's no fun sometimes but you still love his overbearing ass <3

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Hyunjin who "accidentally" gets paint on the clothes of his you like sleeping in so that you could keep them

They say there's two stages to falling in love with a man

First, you fall in love with him.

Second, you fall in love with his clothes

And oh boy that hoodie of his was looking mighty fine that evening

And the evening after

Hyunjin could swear you growl louder than Kkami if he tries to take his clothes back

Well then oOps. He mighty have accidentally painted wearing that hoodie and might have accidentally stained it with paint (weird that the stain looked like it was made with a brush, huh.)

You were like, "Oh no! We can wash it??" And he was like this paint is really hard to get out of the material, so you just HAD to keep it as your sleeping hoodie now ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But then it just so happened you also caught a crush on a shirt of his one day

How'd that one also end up stained with paint???

A whole ass mystery

But oop looks like that shirt can't be worn outside anymore either, what a shame.

Hyunjin smiles to himself as he sees the collection of his clothes that are purely reserved for you, sitting on the shelf he's dedicated to you.

They're just clothes after all. Objects. He doesn't care about them, he can replace them. But you're everything to him

────────── · · · · ✦

Han who always comes up with new nicknames and endearment terms, each one sweeter than the other

You can't lie. At first it was kinda cringe

The way he was all like "ah, my sweetie honey poo, my shiny golden angel, the first ray of sunshine of spring warming up my heart"

Ok, dork lmao

But they always made you laugh

And he loved seeing you happy

Some days he wouldn't do it and you'd instantly notice

It became a necessity, okay? To hear what ridiculous, creative mishmash of words he could throw your way

So you'd go outta your way to ask him, "so what am I to you today?"

And Jisung's brain is buffering  "Uh, my lover?"

"Just your lover? What happened to being as soft and sweet as creme brulee?" He said that once. Yep.

And his eyes light up! He scoots closer and picks up your hand to kiss it

"You're the reflection of everything I hoped I could deserve in this world. My crystal ball of good fortune"

How does he keep coming up with these, nobody will ever know

But your goofy lyrical genius will do anything for you

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Felix who knows your menstrual cycle by heart and always carries pads with him

It's not that Felix paid extra attention to when you were talking about your period. He just ALWAYS paid attention to what you said

He's a man of detail

So he was listening to you, always offering to help you out with whatever you were craving or needing, and eventually he began to note down your cycle in his calendar and that somehow lead to preparing in advance every month

With snacks, asking you if pms is bothering you, if you're irritated, hungry etc

And of course he'd buy you pads for the house that's just a granted

But on top of that he also had an extra pack at his place from which he'd take one or two pads and put them inside his backpack for emergencies

He'd advise you to check if you can take days off in case the pain is too bad

And he won't push you to go out AT ALL

It's like he had two modes: boyfriend mode and older sister mode 😂

All in all he's not afraid to put in effort and he's a literal angel I'm telling you

────────── · · · · ✦

Seungmin who keeps putting candy in the pockets of your pajama pants

This one started out as a prank

He had no other choice but to get a couple of candy because the shop he bought from had no change to give him

And he won't just give you the candy, duuh

You had a habit of throwing your pajama pants on the back of a chair

His eyes landed of them and the plan locked in his head

He literally sat there and watched you put on the pants clueless. And then he URGED YOU to come to bed exasperatedly

But you were uncomfortable??? Something was poking your leg??

You take out the candy and squint at it in the dark

"What is this doing here?"

"I know right, why do you have candy in your pajamas, you weirdo."

Oh THE GLARE you gave him

Seungmin had an epiphany that night. That messing with you is fun. Oh boy.

He waited before doing it again, of course. He had to keep you on your toes

But this time you caught on the moment you pulled up the pants up your leg

"Kim Seungmin!" You exclaimed while laughing and he feigned innocence yet again. You still haven't eaten the candy from last time, so with a bunch of candy in your hand, you dropped them on the bed and began unwrapping one as you guys watched Netflix

"If you keep buying them, let's at least eat them, you fiend."

"Ew I don't want your gross pant candy." But he ate it after you thew a pillow in his face

But one time he put an entire candy cane in there and it was just jutting out of your pocket like a Christmas stocking and you literally broke into a laughter fit for 15 minutes straight

────────── · · · · ✦

Jeongin who will pick a fight with any person who interrupts you while you're speaking

Jeongin began to get angry on your behalf ever since you started dating

He's usually so calm, so chill

But suddenly!! if someone messes with his baby say goodbye calmness

That one guy who closed a door in your face? Literally scolded a stranger for closing a door in someone's face like that

God forbid someone pushes you on the street

He will literally sit there and teach people manners lmao

But if there's one thing about manners he hates, it's being interrupted while speaking

But if YOU get interrupted while you're speaking?

W a r

"Do you need to clean your ears? Someone was speaking."

Literally how DARE THEY interrupt his sweet angel

You could literally be talking to him about pigeons and he'd still think it's the most important thing he's ever heard

The amount of times he's sassily shushed people so you'd be able to finish one goddamn sentence

He's so disappointed in society, can you tell?

────────── · · · · ✦

If you like what you see, consider donating so I can keep writing!

[shawtuzi]

I need one with eren talking you through it, when its ROUGH (...and maybe a daddy kink)

ouuuu…..i like the way you think (i made this a plug!eren drabble bc i miss him)

cw include: black fem!reader, bratty reader like real bad, it’s a little angsty but y’all already know i cant resist a happy ending, levi makes the briefest appearance i don’t even mention his name lmao (he’s the supplier), eren is pretty rough, spanking, pain play??? idk man, unprotected sex, daddy kink, overstimulation, spitting, choking, lots of dirty talk, reader eventually passes out from the overstimulation but don’t worry there is aftercare///NOT PROOFREAD

“how much longer ren m’so bored,” you sighed leaning your head against the window. eren looked at the gps on his phone muttering out, “should be there in ten more minutes.” he made a mental note to drive a little more carefully so you wouldn’t bump your head against the window, afraid that would make you more crabby than you already were.

the two of you were on the way to his suppliers house and the long drive had you crawling out of your skin, you were so damn bored. he insisted you stay home knowing you hated long drives but you being you said otherwise and joined him anyways. “ten more minutes?! i feel like we’ve been driving for hoursss,” you puffed air through your cheeks and closed your eyes hoping the next time you opened them you’d be there.

after fifteen minutes you finally made it to your destination mumbling out a ‘fucking finally’ that didn’t go unnoticed by eren. “stay here i’ll be back in a few,” he spoke softly giving your forehead a kiss before making his way into the house. another ten minutes passed and eren still hadn’t come out making your mood even more sour. you nibbled on your lip contemplating if you should knock on the door— the angel on your shoulder was telling you to stay in the car and wait patiently, maybe even apologize for being so bratty. the devil on the other hand was telling you to storm in the house and tell eren to speed up the process.

before you even knew it you were getting out of the car and knocking on the door, your bracelets jangling on your wrist as you did so. “who the fuck is it?” someone yelled from behind the door making you jump. “uhm— i’m looking for my boyfriend…eren,” you said back, feeling your heart rate begin to speed up.

a few seconds later the door swung open and there eren was, a confused look on his face. “i thought i told you to wait in the car,” he sighed trying his absolute hardest to be patient with you. you put your hand on your hip, your brows furrowing “you were taking too long and i’m ready to go.” eren grabbed your arm and yanked you in the house before shutting the door, “look i’ll be done in a few just wait her—” you interrupted eren with a sharp ‘no i wanna go now!’

eren’s face turned stoic, showing no emotion as you threw your little temper tantrum. just as you finished your bratty rant a man a few inches taller than you came out of literally nowhere and handed eren a backpack, “sorry for the wait i’ll see you same time again next week.” eren nodded and dapped the man up before ushering you out of the door, not saying a word. he was absolutely fuming meanwhile you were as happy as could be because you were finally heading back home.

the drive back was eerily silent, not even the radio was on it was almost like eren wanted you to know he was irritated with you. finally he spoke up, “why did you act like that?” he asked not taking his eyes off the road. “like what?….” you mumbled knowing good and well what he was talking about. eren let out a long sigh, clenching his jaw tightly. “like a fucking brat,” he spat out now looking over at you. it was silent for a few moments only making him more upset, “answer me y/n,” he commanded making you shrink into your seat.

you didn’t even have it in you to give him a snarky remark. it was still radio silence and that’s what finally made eren pull over on the side of the road. eren grabbed a half smoked blunt from the ashtray sitting in the center console before sparking it, not even bothering to crack a window.

“that guy is like my fucking boss y/n you know this, and you also know he doesn’t tolerate any bullshit i’ve told you this countless times. you’re lucky he didn’t see you throwing your little temper tantrum,” eren didn’t raise his voice not once but you still felt like crying from embarrassment. “m’sorry ren i was just so bored—” eren cut you off quickly holding his hand up. “i told you you’d be better off staying at our place while i went didn’t i?” you didn’t say anything instead you just nodded your head. “you insisted on coming though and when i told you to behave yourself just a for little what did you do?” he asked cocking his eyebrow. you stared down at your lap, twirling the promise ring he’d recently bought for you around your finger. “i was acting out,” you mumbled feeling a stray tear begin to make its way down you cheek, eren was quick to wipe it away though.

eren took a long hit of the blunt before setting it aside, taking your hands in his much larger ones. “hey none of that crying shit now okay? i’m not mad at you,” he said in a much gentler tone. for the first time in what felt like ages you finally looked him in the eye. “promise you aren’t mad?” you sniffled, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. he hummed pressing a kiss to the promise ring, “i promise.” eren reached over and unbuckled your seatbelt, maneuvering you onto his lap. “could never be mad at you even if i should be,” he chuckled pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. he leaned in closer till his lips were by your ear before whispering, “but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.”

the rest of the drive home your heart was practically pumping out of chest as you wondered what eren planned to do with you. sure he always threatened to bend you over his lap or use you to get himself off and leave you high and dry but he never actually acted upon it. “go inside and wait in the room for me i just gotta make a call real quick,” he pressed a kiss to your trembling hand before sending you on your way. you were petrified yet confusingly excited for eren had in store for you.

‘new level’ by a$ap ferg blasted throughout the cars speakers as eren smoked away the remainder of the blunt he had. he didn’t really have someone to call he just wanted a little time to plot, smoking always brought out the creative side in him. “what am i gonna do with her?” eren hummed, bringing the blunt to his lips.

while eren was still scheming in the car, you were sitting as still as a statue on your shared bed, hands folded in your lap. you were getting a little worried when ten minutes had passed and he still hadn’t come in, but you worries were washed away when you heard the door open. eren made a pit stop at the fridge and grabbed two water bottles before making his way to your room. he had ditched the hoodie he was wearing, leaving him in his tight long sleeve shirt and sweatpants.

he stared at you for a moment, his eyes red and glassy. “take your clothes off, no talking” was all he said and you made work to rid yourself of your crop top and mini skirt. goosebumps began to cover your skin, your nipples hardening from the cool air as well.

eren slowly walked over to the bed, admiring your beauty and obedience before gripping your jaw roughly. “you’re real spoiled y’know that?” his voice held no emotion as he continued to keep your jaw in his grip, squeezing ever so softly to make your lips pucker up. you attempted to apologize, keyword attempted, but it only made eren laugh. “nah i don’t think you’re really sorry, but you will be,” he took a seat next to you on the bed and pointed at his lap. you looked at him with wide eyes and it took everything in him to not crack on the spot.

you slowly but surely laid your body over his lap to which he responded with a low ‘that’s my pretty girl’. he ran his hands over your ass cheeks, feeling up the petal soft skin before giving your right cheek a quick slap. you squealed out his name but he only responded with another slap, this time a little tougher than the last. “shut your mouth before i shut it for you and trust me you don’t want me to do that,” he gave your left cheek three quick slaps, making your body jolt. you were in so much stinging pain you hadn’t even noticed your pussy was dripping wet, making a damp spot on eren’s sweats.

eren swiped two fingers through your sopping folds, a low groan rumbling in his chest at the feeling of your essence coating his digits. “looks like your enjoying this shit a little more than you should huh? so fuckin’ nasty,” he spanked your pussy and that’s when you finally let out a broken moan. eren licked his lips and did it again, and again, and again until your thighs clenched together, the damp spot on eren’s sweats growing by the second. eren threw his head back laughing like something genuinely funny had happened. he lowered his head, bringing his lips extremely close to your ear, “did you just cum from getting your slutty little pussy slapped? hm?”

you were too embarrassed to say anything and just nodded, but that wasn’t enough for eren. his fingers made their way back to your pussy, spreading open your lips before pressing down harshly on your clit. “if you want me to move my fingers i need to hear your voice loud and clear mama,” he pinched your clit harshly and you whined, gripping the soft material of his sweatpants between your trembling fingers. “yes…that’s what i came from,” you mumbled into his thigh, your ears burning from embarrassment. eren yanked your head up by you braids and pinched your clit once more, he wasn’t even close to satisfied with your answer.

“and what exactly did you cum from hm? say that shit or the only way you’ll be getting off tonight is by grinding on my shoes.” he didn’t mean it but from the look on your face you thought he was deadass. it was hilarious to him. “i—i came from you…” eren began to rub quick little circles on your poor clit. “came from what mama? go ‘head and say it.” tears were beginning to pool at your lash line—god this was so humiliating. “i came from you slapping my—hah! m-my pussy! i came from that and it was so—so good p-please do it again!” eren halted his movements, an evil grin making its way onto his lips.

with ease he had lifted you off his lap and had you flat on your back. “you should know better than to ask for shit during your punishment…but i guess all that pretty little head knows is how to spot expensive shit from a mile away and taking dick,” his words were harsh, sure, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have your pussy clenching around nothing. he’s never been this way with you and honestly it was a trip! maybe you’d have to start pissing him off more oft—

“hey? you listening to me?” eren snapped his fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to reality. “yes, yes m’sorry im listening,” eren hummed and gave your forehead a sweet kiss, mumbling something about how the safe-word was ‘red’. “you know i love you more than anything in this world right?” he spoke softly, pulling down his sweatpants and briefs. you looked him in his eyes, giving him a small smile “yes of course i know that ren.” eren swiped his dick between your soaked folds, making sure to bump at your clit with his tip. “good….because m’not gonna lie im about to fuck you like i don’t,” before you could even process his words he fully sheathed himself inside of you.

you tried to pull away but eren made quick work to push your knees to your shoulders, keeping you in the most intense mating press he’s ever had you in. he’d usually prep you a bunch but unfortunately for you that wasn’t happening tonight. “you good?” he spoke softly, tapping your cheek a few times. although the stinging stretch was a bother you had no intentions on stopping him, which is why you were quick to nod your head letting him know all was well.

eren took that as his sign to start giving you rough, deep strokes. “cant believe after all the times we’ve fucked you’re still so goddamn tight,” he growled, slapping your face. it caught you completely off guard by mannn did you fucking love it. “do t-that again—smack me,” eren breathlessly chuckled and happily smacked you once again, giving the stinging skin a wet kiss afterwards.

“f-fuck open your mouth,” you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue with zero hesitation, moaning loudly when a glob of spit fell from eren’s lips and into your mouth. “what do you say?” eren picked up the pace of his thrusts, the harsh claps of his thighs against your reddening up his skin. “thank you—thank you daddy! s-shit m’gonna cum!” you squeezed around eren like a vice, nearly forcing him to halt his movements. “that was good,” he hummed, giving your sweaty forehead kiss.

“but we’re not done yet.”

45 minutes later…..

“oh my fuckin’ goodness,” you sobbed into the pillow eren had pushed your face into. six damn orgasms and he was still showing no signs of stopping. he really was fucking you like he hated your guts. “i know baby, i know. feels good yeah?” eren whispered in your ear, nibbling on the lobe. he had you in backshots previously, but after your sixth orgasm your body had collapsed onto the mattress. he wasn’t even thrown off, instead he just pressed his chest against your back and slowly rocked into you. the damp sheets were now grinding roughly onto your clit and it had you seeing stars.

eren had came three times, each time inside your pussy making an even bigger mess. if your mind wasn’t so fuzzy you would’ve gotten embarrassed from how loud the squelching sounds of your pussy were, but fortunately for you you could barely even remember your name let alone background noise. “that’s right baby just keep on takin’ it don’t run from it,” he moaned directly into your ear as he emptied his fourth load into your spent pussy. surely he was done now right??? wrong. so so wrong.

“eren—daddy i don’t think i can take no more,” you whimpered in defeat as he turned you on your back once more. eren settled on his knees, wrapping your legs around his waist. “you wanna use the safe word?” he queried, stuffing any cum that seeped out of your pussy back into you. when he was met with silence he smirked. “yeah that’s what a thought.”

he tapped his tip against your swollen clit before slipping back into your pussy, groaning at the warmth that enveloped him. “such a pretty lil thing i love you so so much. my sweet girl mmm you’re my sweet girl right? all mine?” he was now babbling nonsense just as much as you were. in the process of fucking you dumb he had also managed to fuck himself stupid. figures.

“o-oh! yes ren m’all y-yours!” you let out a pornographic moan and eren quickly silenced you by wrapping his hand around your throat. there was pressure but not enough to fully block your airway. eren used his free hand to rub sloppy circles on your clit with his thumb, making your body full tense up. ‘cumming…cumming’ was all you managed to get out before a stream of clear liquid hit eren’s pelvis and yet he still did not stop.

“yeah that’s right let it out baby c’mon gimme some more,” eren pulled out and began aggressively tapping his tip against your clit. your back arched off the bed as you squirted again and that’s when you blacked out. eren made quick work to lay down and pull your shaking body into his, mumbling out praises left and right. “c’mon baby come back to me…that’s it there you go, my sweet girl—my precious girl,” when your eyes cracked open you were met with eren’s angelic face smiling down at you. you sniffled, burying your face in his neck. “i’m sorry…sorry for acting out, won’t do it again i promise,” you mumbled giving his neck little kisses.

eren shook his head, that was the least of his concerns all he wanted to do in this moment was coddle you and love on you with everything he had. “don’t worry about that mama, you just worry about regulating your breathing yeah? take a few deep breathes with me,” that helped immensely and although you were ready to go tf to bed you still needed to be cleaned up… and so did eren….and so did the blankets and sheets. “don’t fall asleep on me just yet princess, m’gonna run you a bath okay?” he waited for you to nod in understanding before picking up your limp body and bringing you to the bathroom.

he filled the bath with hot water and your favorite scented bath salts before setting you in there (but not before testing the water to make sure it didn’t scald your skin ofc). while you relaxed your sore muscles in the bath eren changed the sheets, he couldn’t help but smirk at the huge wet spot along with multiple little damp spots on the material.

“how you feeling mama?” he asked as soon as he walked back into the bathroom. you hummed, looking up at him with nothing but pure love and adoration. “sore…and i still need to wrap my hair up…” you trailed off making eren chuckle. he leant down giving your lips one, two, three kisses the last one being longer than the others. “don’t worry about that i’ll take care of it when you get out,” you let out a sigh of relief and eren laughed once again.

man did this man fucking love you. that’s why he got your eyes tatted on his forearm the very next day heje

[tanniefm]

all mine | jjk (m)

summary - after a heated argument in the car, jungkook makes sure to set you straight in the only way he knows how.

pairing - jungkook x (f) reader

genre - smut/minor angst, established relationship

word count - 1.5k

song inspo - all mine by brent faiyaz (but also seven cause FUCKKKKKKK)

warnings - jealousy and misunderstandings, lowkey sexual harassment (not from jk ofc), explicit language (especially calling kook out his name 🫣), angry car sex, daddy kink, unprotected sex (yes yes bad we know), creampie, reader says sorry while she gets fucked and jk like doesn’t care 😭, they love each other a lot still

a/n - heard the explicit ver of seven and my jaw dropped and pussy started throbbing and this is the result of that :)

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Jungkook is having the worst possible time right now. When he came home from the studio this evening, he fully expected to see you laid out on the couch watching some random show in those tiny little pajamas he likes. He’d forget all his stress and the minor headache he’s had for the past hour and squeeze, and kiss, and touch his pretty girl to his heart’s content. He did not account for the fact that you’d be slipping into a form-fitting dress and fussing over how long it would take to do your hair and makeup.

“Um…where are you going?” he asks with a raised brow. “To the company dinner I told you about, remember? I told you about it before you left.” Jungkook does not in fact remember. How could he when his dick was stuffed down your throat and his eyes were rolled to the back of his head? But that was earlier, and this is now.

“Oh. Should I like, change or..” he trails off. In all honesty, he really didn’t want to go, he knows if he said as much you’d be completely fine with him staying home, the problem is he doesn’t want you to go either. You look over at him and see his cute little pout. You had a feeling he'd act this way, he had a tendency to be needy for your presence. You always found it endearing though, he was like a clingy puppy at times.

“Yes baby, wear something nice please, it's business casual but you know I can't pass up an opportunity to get dolled up,” you wink. He sighs wistfully and goes into your shared closet to find an acceptable dress shirt. Since your dress is gray he felt it was only right to wear a gray shirt with a black blazer overtop and some freshly pressed black slacks. You always call him corny when he tries to coordinate his outfits with yours but he knows you secretly love it. All he can do is hope the dinner is short so he can end the night with both of you fucked out in bed.

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He really tried to have a good time, honestly. You seemed to be making it very hard for him, however (both literally and figuratively). He couldn’t seem to stop staring at how good you looked in your dress, the way his hands itched to caress your curves drove him insane. And not to mention how everytime you’d politely laugh at whatever your coworker was saying, your boobs would jiggle like they were purposely trying to taunt him. If Jungkook had his way, he would’ve taken you in the restaurant bathroom by now, but he promised before you two left to be good. But you just make it so, so hard for him.

“_____? Oh my god, how are you? I haven’t seen you in ages!” You turn to see the source of the familiar voice only to find an old friend from high school. “Chris? Holy shit I didn’t know you worked here! I’m good, it feels like we haven’t talked in forever,” you say cheerily. Jungkook slightly furrows his brow, Chris? You never mentioned a Chris before. As he watched the two of you catch up, he couldn’t help but notice the dark look in Chris’ eye. The way he seemed to look down at your breasts and ass more than he did your eyes. He knew exactly what that look meant, and he had no intention of watching him continue on with it. What especially irritated him was how naive you seemed to be to it. How could you not see that Chris wasn’t listening to a word you said? But the last straw was seeing him lean in for a hug and watching his hands slowly but surely make their way to your lower back, dangerously close to your ass.

“Ok that’s enough,” Jungkook said gruffly. He tugged you out of his arms and swiftly pulled you along out of the restaurant. “Jungkook what the fuck?” You were honestly surprised he was handling you like this, who the fuck does he think he is to be gripping on your arm like you’re some kind of bad child?

“Get in the car,” he says sternly. He must’ve lost his damn mind. “Excuse me?” Where was this coming from? Just a second ago he seemed fine, why is he acting so pissy all of a sudden? “What the fuck is your problem Jungkook? What are you so mad about?” you ask desperately. He says nothing as he opens the passenger’s door and waits for you to get in. You scoff and sit down, rolling your eyes while doing so. He always hated when you rolled your eyes at him, and frankly, it was pissing him off even more. But it’s ok. He knows how to get that little bratty attitude you had to go away.

He gets into his seat and takes a deep breath. “So. You and Chris seem close huh,” he says calmly. You raise a brow and look at him with utter confusion. “Uh no, not really. I haven’t talked to him since I graduated,” you reply. He gives a huff of laughter and shakes his head. “Then why exactly was he giving you ‘fuck me’ eyes baby?” Realistically he knows he’s being overdramatic. Chris was obviously being a creep and you just so happened to be the person he set his eyes on. But Jungkook’s been annoyed the whole night, and it seemed like this was the catalyst for his patience.

“How should I know? It’s not like I was purposely trying to seduce him!” you say exasperatedly. This is ridiculous! Does he think you wanted to make him jealous or something? For what? He was making zero sense right now, and all it was doing was making you angry.

You two went back and forth for what couldn’t be more than 10 minutes before saying something you knew you should’ve never said. “Fuck Jungkook, why are you being such a little bitch right now,” you exclaim, annoyed. His eyes widen slightly before his entire face hardens. You’ve never seen him look so serious. “Come here.” He leans his seat back slightly and looks at you expectantly. “Baby I-“ “I wasn’t asking,” he interrupts. You’re so fucked.

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“Fuu-uu-uuuck m’ sorry! M’ so sorry!” you cry out into the steadily rocking car. Jungkook grips your hips tight as he pulls you up and down on his fat dick. “Sorry? Oh, but I thought I was a bitch? What happened baby?” he grunts. This is exactly what he needed. He's been pent up ever since he got home and he needed to pound into this tight cunt to relieve all this pent-up stress he’s been feeling.

“N-no! Didn’t mean it I promise daddy, promise!” Your eyes start to roll to the back of your head. You’re so fucking close. He’s hitting your g-spot with precision, angling his hips in just the right way to take you over the edge. His big, strong hands move down to your behind and grab each globe. He holds you still and pistons into you with an ever-growing speed.

“Don’t give this pussy to anyone else, do you hear me? he pants as he throws his head back in ecstasy. “Whose pussy is this?” he questions. “It’s yours, daddy! Yours yours yours, no one else’s!” you moan out. His moans start raising in pitch as he works his throbbing length in and out of you. Your wetness staining his dress pants and his seat. “Uhhhh fuckkk I’m almost there princess I’m right there hold on baby,” he babbles.

You bring your hands to the back of his neck to lift his head to yours, making sure those pretty doe eyes of his look directly into yours. “C'mon, daddy. Cum in your pussy,” you say seductively. His eyes shut tightly as he lets out a loud whine. His hips still and press into you as deep as your walls will allow him as he paints them white. Feeling his warmth overflow from inside of you triggers your orgasm right away, you tuck your head into his neck as you sob and shake.

Jungkook wraps his arms around you and kisses your head repeatedly as you both breathe heavily and try to bring yourselves down from the intense moment. He squeezes you into his arms as if you’ll disappear if he doesn’t have a strong hold on you. His kisses go down to your face where he peppers them all over your cheeks and lips, whispering how much he loves you and how good you were for him.

“I love you so much ____ please don’t ever leave me,” he whimpers into your mouth. You pull away and look at him incredulously. “Baby…why would I leave you?” you ask softly. “I just…I don't know. I guess I got a little insecure back at the restaurant. I know it's stupid but, for a second it really seemed like I was losing you.” he explains sadly. You frown and give him a long, heartfelt kiss. “Koo baby, I don't even think about anyone else when I have you. You're all I need.” He blushes and grants you his precious bunny smile.

“My big jealous baby, you know I love you.” ♡

[atlabeth]

(not so) simple pt3 - anthony bridgerton

masterlist

summary: coercing lord bridgerton into pretending to court you to avoid the affections of a baron is very simple — that is, until it isn’t.

a/n: so first of all let me apologize for how long it took for this to come out. literally nine months. a whole baby has passed. i lost my bridgerton inspo HARD but like i always want anthony bridgerton even if it's deep within me and that just came through today as i finally pushed through and finished it. hopefully you guys still care about this series because i sure do and the end is in sight, like i literally have most of it written i just have to do the in between parts and connect it all and this horrible wonderful terrible amazing mini series that has killed me will be done. anyways here she is and i hope you enjoy!!

wc: 9.7k

warning(s): historical inaccuracies, fluff, angst, a lil bit of violence/injuries, a cliffhanger that will make you want to kill me. yn is going kind of crazy because she's never felt pleasant emotions before

The next month was akin to a blur. With each day your mother grew more and more excited about your courtship with Anthony, so much so she’d even begun knitting a blanket as a wedding gift to the Bridgertons. 

(When she’d first told you about it over dinner, you’d nearly choked. You were beginning to dread telling her the truth more than you dreaded your fake courtship). 

That, perhaps, was beginning to become a lie. Dread was not the proper word for how you felt about your courtship. 

It was still strange, knowing that everyone around you believed you and Anthony were to be married. Though your secret was still one well-kept, you could hardly contain yourself whenever you overheard snide remarks with you at the center—it seemed they had still not gotten over the fact that their precious opportunity at becoming a Bridgerton had been stolen by you. Perhaps their daughters would get their chance in the next season, once you and Anthony had broken things off. 

But that was not enough to hold his image in the same sour view as before.

Anthony was irritating as ever, yes, and but he was no longer the mere rake, the sarcastic older brother who firmly believed you were running out of time, the womanizer Lady Whistledown painted him as. 

At least, you did not see him as such. He certainly did not act that way around you anymore. 

Anthony Bridgerton was lighter around you—he smiled more, laughed more, joked around with you in a way that Benedict told you he hadn’t seen in years. And of course, he was only able to tell you that because Anthony brought you along on outings with his family. 

The Worthings had always been friendly throughout the years with the Bridgertons, especially because of your closeness with Eloise and, more so when you were younger and before her debut, Daphne. You were fond of the rest of the family as well, Benedict and Colin looking on you fondly as that of an annoying younger sister much like Eloise—you were happy to fill the role. Francesca was pleasant when she wasn’t off traveling, and Gregory and Hyacinth were always a delight. Hyacinth seemed more attached to you because of the courtship, and truly looked forward to welcoming you as a sister. 

Anthony had always been the older brother that foiled your fun with Eloise, that urged you to take your role more seriously if for no other reason than to influence Eloise down the path as well. 

Now you felt closer than ever to him, and though it was merely for your ruse, you couldn’t help but enjoy it. 

Stranger yet, though, was how your image of Anthony had changed since that first dance the night you agreed to this ruse. When at first you could only stand his company because of the promise of continuous jabs and protection from suitors, you now found that you actually… enjoyed being around him. You recalled the night out in the Bridgerton gardens with Anthony far more than you should have.

He certainly had no right to keep you awake at such late hours the way he did. 

You no longer despaired early wakings to promenade with him, no longer wrinkled your nose at the prospect of dancing with him. Though you still dreaded the glitz and the glamour of the ton all the same, Anthony himself did not spurn the same response. 

Of that, you did not know exactly what to think, but you supposed the absence of misery was something to celebrate. 

You and the viscount were becoming friends. You enjoyed his presence. You began to look forward to your next outing with him, time spent with him outweighing your dislike of early wakings. 

You were a frequent visitor of Bridgerton family outings because of your friendship with Eloise, and you only found yourself more involved with their picnics and promenades through Anthony. 

Invitations found their way to your doorstep far more often because of the Bridgerton name attached to yours, and you found you enjoyed them more on Anthony’s arm. 

You attended operas together in their private box. He frequently called on you, leading to conversations in your drawing room and promenades all about. You dined with them at least once a week, always sitting next to Anthony and whispering things to each other throughout. 

In addition to the time you spent with Eloise, your proximity to the Bridgertons, especially Anthony, was near constant.  

And you enjoyed every moment of it. 

Truly, there was something very wrong with you. 

But perhaps the strangest of all was your newfound fame. If there were ever any hope of keeping your ruse even the slightest bit secret, it was crushed by virtue of Lady Whistledown, who aided you with your most fantastical feat yet—you were mentioned by name in every single edition she’d published since the night you and Anthony partook in your first dance together. The ton knew you well now, far too well, and even when you were not around the viscount you were attuned to the glances and whispers of gossips. 

You found it interesting how easily you had become a source of intrigue, simply because it looked as if you were the object of Anthony’s affections—but you also found it largely annoying. You did not much like the attention. 

Running off to the country sounded better and better with every passing day. 

“I swear,” you muttered as you went through the stack of pamphlets, “news of our relationship makes up half of Whistledown’s repertoire these days. Truly, we should get a cut of her wages for providing so much material for her.” 

Anthony’s lips quirked up in a smile. The two of you were sat in your drawing room, chaperoned as usual by Julia, a stack containing each edition of Lady Whistledown during the length of the season set between the two of you. It was past the traditional hours of a caller, but the “advancement” of your “relationship” allowed Anthony leeway. He had brought with him yet another pamphlet of Lady Whistledown, which Eloise had confronted him with after getting her hands on it. 

“We do seem to be quite popular,” he agreed. “But at least that will make it easier for the news of our parting to spread.” 

“I just wish she did not make it so dramatic,” you huffed, and you picked up the most recent edition that Anthony had brought. You brought up the pitch of your voice and made your accent as haughty as possible as you read the printed words:

“The mystery that is the Viscount Bridgerton and Miss Worthing continues to unravel. The two were sighted together in a box at the newly redecorated Adelphi Theatre, admiring the opening night of Rossini’s Tancredi. I begrudgingly commend them on the taste in opera; I too, am a fan of Voltaire. One can only wonder the sort of activity they commenced in with their privacy.”

Anthony allowed himself a laugh as you shook your head and let out a sigh. “It’s ridiculous. She makes it sound as if we are engaging in the most scandalous behavior there is, when we were merely watching the opera! The only activity we commenced in was discussion.” You set the pamphlet down on the table with a huff. “It was quite intellectual discussion, if I do say so myself.” 

“Certainly,” he said with a nod, and he smiled wryly. “Are you saying you are not a fan of all this attention, though? Surely it is your dream for every member of the ton to know of you and your exploits.” 

“I am certainly not—” you began, but your attention was drawn to the doors as your mother walked inside. 

“Lord Bridgerton!” she exclaimed as a smile tugged at her lips. Though your mother looked happy, you saw through the practiced expression—she held a letter in her hands, turning it over and over as if to calm nervous energy. “How lovely to see you here.” 

“It is just as lovely to see you, Lady Worthing,” Anthony greeted, the charm flowing effortlessly through his words. “And may I just say how effervescent you look, even at this late hour?” 

Your mother smiled. “You know exactly what to say to get yourself out of trouble, don’t you?” 

“It is a virtue,” Anthony joked, and when he stood up you did as well. “I apologize if I have overstayed my welcome—I simply enjoy your daughter’s presence far too much. She is a sure credit to your family.” 

“Oh, it is of no mind,” she said, brushing her hand through the air. “I always enjoy having the Bridgertons over. You are no exception.”

“You flatter me so, Lady Worthing, but I must insist I take my leave.” He bowed to her and then turned to you, taking your hand in his and pressing a delicate kiss to the back of your palm. “I bid you a good night, my lady.”

You suppressed the flutter in your chest at his touch. Your hands were typically gloved whenever you held hands during dances or promenades, but not at this hour. His lips against your bare skin made your breath catch for a moment, even for such a slight occurrence. 

“I can escort you to the door,” you said, smiling through the uncertainty in your chest. 

Anthony nodded, a small smile on his lips as well. “I welcome your company, my lady.”

Anthony offered his arm and you took it, and you could sense the excitement from your mother even from afar.

“Do not stay out too long, you two!” she called with a grin as you strolled out the door, and you had to stifle your laugh.

“You are going to be the death of me, Miss Worthing,” Anthony murmured in your ear as you walked out, his breath tickling your skin.

“Not if you get to me first,” you countered. 

“I think the opposite is far more likely,” he said. 

“How so?” you said, feigning disbelief. “You are the one keeping me up past natural hours with your presence. You are the one dragging me with you into Whistledown infamy.”

“But you are the one who got me into this in the first place.” Anthony glanced at you. “Quite the predicament, I might say.”

“Oh, do not act as if you are not enjoying it by now,” you said. “We are friends at this point, yes?”

A small smile quirked on his lips. “I suppose so.”

Again, that warmth in your chest. If Anthony knew, he would surely understand that he was far more likely to be your undoing than the other way around.

You reached the doors, and when you opened one and peeked outside, there was a notable absence of a carriage.

“My deepest apologies Viscount Bridgerton.” You turned around to see your head maid hurrying across the floor, slightly out of breath. “There has been a miscommunication between our two estates—your carriage will arrive, but it will be delayed. It should not be too long a wait, albeit, but—” 

“It is of no worry,” Anthony interrupted, bowing his head. “I thank you for your dedication. Please, enjoy the rest of your night.”

She looked to you for confirmation and you nodded. “Thank you, Emma. You can retire for the night.”

She smiled gratefully. “I appreciate your kindness, my lady. It shall be here soon.”

You let go of Anthony’s arm as she began walking to the servant’s quarters and you pushed the door open again.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“We have time to waste,” you said, looking back at him mischievously. “Do you trust me?”

“…You make it seem as if I shouldn’t,” Anthony said.

“Oh, relax. We have some time to ourselves and a night sky above us. Surely you can indulge me once.” 

“I believe I have indulged you far more than once,” Anthony said, but he followed you anyway. He planted his hand against the door, taking the weight off of yours, and for some reason even that act made you take a deep breath. 

Thank God for the cool air, you thought hastily as you stepped outside, because your cheeks were burning for no good reason. 

“I apologize on Emma’s behalf for the delay,” you said, thankful that he was following slightly behind you. “The Worthing estate has been in a state of disarray lately. I try to help around, but my mother insists it’s not my place.”

“I already said it was a nonissue,” Anthony said, and you bit your lip as he took a step closer and put you on equal ground. You’d no idea what was wrong with you.

“And I thank you for your continued grace, but I still feel as if I must apologize anyway,” you said. “You likely know of our… monetary issues.”

His brows knit together. “Of course, but that means nothing. Of your status, I mean.” 

You smiled a bit. “To you, perhaps. But my mother is so ashamed of our lack of staff, she hardly ever has her friends over for tea anymore. We’ve never been able to afford much, but we had to let many of our staff go over the past summer.” 

“It is noticeable. You’ve no doormen, few maids and servants,” Anthony said. “But it shouldn’t matter to any true gentleman.”

“I suppose that makes you a true gentleman, doesn’t it?” you said playfully.

Anthony chuckled. “After all the years my mother has spent trying to turn me into one, she would certainly hope so.”

“That is why this is all such a problem.” You glanced at him. “Why my mother is so delighted of our courtship. She believes you will be my— our entire family’s— saving grace upon marriage.” 

“Quite the burden upon us,” he said dryly, though his words did not hold the usual humor. There was a certain solemnity about him. 

“Indeed.” You sighed. “Our ruse frees me from the hand of other men for this season, but there is still the problem of… of what awaits.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, the night chill beginning to get to you along with something else. “I am certain I will think of a plan eventually, but still I worry more each day of what I will do when it is all over.” 

Anthony didn’t say anything, and you didn’t fill the silence though you felt his gaze upon you. Suddenly, though, you felt the heaviness of fabric over your arms. 

Anthony’s jacket, you realized when you looked at him. Your lips parted, words stuck in your throat, but he didn’t give you the chance to get them out. 

“You were cold,” he shrugged, answering your question before you could ask it. “It would be unfathomably rude to force my dearest betrothed to freeze.”

“You noticed,” you said. 

“Always,” Anthony said. 

You care.

You could not help but stare at him, if not just for a moment, because— because God, the man was beautiful. There lay no use in denying it. There was a reason that, despite being the ton’s most infamous rake, he was still so desired by countless ladies. 

His eyes almost as dark as the night around you holding a kindness he didn’t share with many, his white undershirt with slightly-rolled sleeves in stark contrast to it all, the curve of his jaw and the slope of his nose and the barest coif of his chestnut hair.

He was beautiful, and he was the one thing you could not have. 

“Miss Worthing?” 

Which did not matter, because you did not want him. 

“My apologies.” You blinked and cleared your throat, Anthony breaking you out of your spell, and you gestured with your head as you continued along your way. Heat burned inside of you, all the way from the tips of your ears to the soles of your feet, and you could hardly stand it.

“You seem… distracted,” he said. 

That was one way to describe it.  

“Apologies,” you repeated with the slightest of smiles. “I’m merely… in my head, is all.” 

This was all fake. You had to remember that, even if you had to bash it into your head for it to stick. The charm practically oozed off of him, and though you’d been near immune to it when you were able to despise Anthony, it was much more difficult not to fall victim to it now that you considered each other… friends.

You are a lady, and he is a gentleman, you could picture your mother saying. It is nature’s oldest tale. There is no shame in it. 

He is my brother, and you hate him, you heard Eloise scoffing in the same vein. The thought made you smile. 

“Where are you taking me, Miss Worthing?” Anthony’s coy voice brought you out of your stupor once again, and you blinked. 

As you looked around, you realized you’d already made it there. You turned to Anthony with a smile, your hands out as you gestured at the open field of grass behind your estate. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you asked. “I’ve brought you here to stargaze.” 

“Stargazing,” he repeated, and he laughed a bit. “I’ve never…” 

“You’ve never stargazed?” you finished, and he nodded. “It makes sense. A serious viscount such as yourself cannot be bothered with such frivolities.” 

Anthony shrugged. “If you enjoy it, I would love to try.”

“It isn’t something you try so much as you just do,” you said as you sat down on the ground. You smoothed out your skirts and then looked up at Anthony, amused by the expression on his face. 

“It’s alright, my lord,” you said. “I promise, the grass will not hurt you. My maids have worked out many a stain in my youth, so I assure you that will be alright as well.” 

“I have a carriage coming,” he said. 

“They can wait,” you said. “Can they not?” 

He hesitated for a moment, and then his lips quirked into the slightest smile as he took a seat next to you. You took his hand, ignoring the skip of your heart, and you pulled him back so you were both lying down. 

“How do you feel?” you asked. “Have you fallen ill yet?” 

“Very funny,” Anthony said wryly. “I am just fine. Your worries are much appreciated.” 

“I would never worry about the great Viscount Bridgerton,” you said haughtily. “He has everything handled at all times.” 

“Hardly,” he countered, and he let out a sigh. “Lately it seems as if I’ve got nothing handled at all.” 

You made a noncommittal noise. “Then you are quite the actor, my lord. You’re very good at looking perfect.” 

“You think I look perfect?” 

You turned your head to see Anthony looked at you, a sly smile on his lips, and though your rolled your eyes you could not hold back your amusement. 

“Yes, Viscount Bridgerton,” you said playfully. “Quite perfect.” 

“It is good to know that my betrothed no longer hates me.” Anthony allowed one of his hands to rest in the grass, and you could feel his eyes on you. 

“Oh, we are not betrothed yet,” you said offhandedly. “The way my mother acts, though, you would certainly think so.” 

“Well, then,” Anthony said, “would you further prove your devotion by showing me some of your constellations?” 

You chuckled. “Of course.” 

Your gaze turned to the sky, squinting slightly as you searched for your favorite. When you did, you made a sound of triumph and you sat up on your elbows. “There— do you see those? 

He frowned as he pushed himself up as well, and in his focus he unconsciously leaned closer to you. “I do not see anything,” Anthony said, and you laughed. 

“Right…” you shifted closer to him, and you took his hand in yours as you held it up to the sky. “There.” You traced the outline with his finger, and you glanced at him. “Do you see it now?” 

“I do, but…” Anthony’s lips twitched into a smile for a moment. “It is just… lines. A triangle with lines.” 

You laughed, full and bright. “It is, that much is true. But it is the constellation of Libra, in relation to astrology.” 

“I did not know you were educated on astrology.” 

“Oh, I am certainly not,” you said. “But it is the sign of my mother’s birth month, and it was the first constellation she taught me to find. Now, it is always the first one I seek out on nights such as these.” 

His eyebrows rose ever so slightly. “You used to stargaze with your mother?” 

You hadn’t truly realized the implications of what you’d said until his words, and you paused for a moment before you took your hand away from his and laid back down. 

“It is alright if you do not want to talk about it,” Anthony said softly. 

“It is not that,” you said, and you sighed. “It is just… that the relationship I have with my mother is a complicated one.” 

You felt Anthony’s eyes on you still, and you bit your lip. 

“I have always felt so small whenever I look to the stars,” you murmured. “I think it is part of the reason I still do it— for the perspective. To remind myself of how minuscule I am in the broad scheme of things.”

“I… think I feel the opposite, funnily enough,” Anthony said. “I do not stargaze, obviously, but I have always viewed an individual’s contribution as meaning far more than I can even imagine. Each and every person who has walked through my life has made some sort of impact— you have been, and still are, one of those.” He looked over at you with a surprisingly earnest expression. “You are certainly not minuscule. Not by any sort of margin.”

You found your cheeks heating up from his words, and you could not hold back your smile. “Why, Lord Bridgerton, that was quite a compliment. Are you sure you are feeling well?”

“I feel wonderful,” he said, his eyes still not leaving yours. You felt your cheeks heat and you had to look away. 

“I know my mother only wants what is best for me. She pushes me so because there is no other choice, and she truly believes that it will just… click for me someday.” You pulled Anthony’s jacket tighter around your arms, but it was of no aid when the chills came from within. “And I feel as if I am failing my entire family by not being able to accept it.” 

“I understand what it is like to have the weight of your bloodline on your shoulders,” Anthony said after a moment’s hesitation. “It is my job to ensure that my family stays afloat, that our finances are handled, that my siblings are provided for, that everything runs smoothly without a hitch. It is…” he huffed a small laugh. “It is overwhelming, I cannot lie. But it is my responsibility as the head of house, and so I take it on.” 

“You are saying that I should pursue a real courtship,” you said dryly. 

“That is not what I am saying,” Anthony countered with a glance at you. “You were correct when you said that I could leave at any time if I so desired. I do not, but if I wanted to, I could. I am pushed on through even the most difficult moments because of my love for my family. Everything I do is for them.” 

“I still am not following.” 

“If you want to be happy, then you must find your motivations,” Anthony finally said, “and you must follow where they lead you. No matter where that is.”

“So you are supporting my ill-advised rebellion.” You sat up, looking down at him with the beginnings of a smile. “Is that it?” 

“I thought that quite obvious the moment I agreed to this ruse,” he responded wryly. “You are a bad influence, Miss Worthing. I am a man of honor.” 

“Of course.” Your words were laced with mock austerity, and you sighed. “I just do not understand why I was born the sole daughter of a struggling family. It seems a cruel joke when there is none I despise more than marriage.” 

“We are quite similar, you know,” Anthony said offhandedly. “We both have the fate of our families on our shoulders, and we both know what we must do for our name. It should be woefully easy, but… it isn’t.” 

You shook your head. “We are not similar, my lord. Perhaps in structure, but not in much else.” 

He raised his eyebrows, silently urging you to go forward. 

“You are a man,” you said simply, “and you have everything because of it. You can have whatever life you please. It is not required of you to marry, though your mother might like it to have an heir from the first son. But I have nothing— I am nothing— without a man. The life that I so desperately want is one that I will never be able to have, not without giving up everything I hold dear.” 

You swallowed thickly in your throat, turning away from Anthony to not give him a view of your imminent tears. “I either have to marry a man I will never love or abandon my family and become a disgrace, but I do not want either. It is as Eloise has always said — I just want so desperately to fly. Unfortunately, my wings are doomed to be clipped.” 

“Miss Worthing…” Anthony started, but he trailed off just as quickly. He could not seem to find the right words to quell your worries, and it infuriated him beyond any sort of reason. He did not have a way with words like Eloise, he did not have the effortless charm of Colin nor the presence of Benedict, and he most certainly was not able to comfort others like Daphne — and yet the need to fix problems he himself was incapable of fixing washed over him so suddenly and so intensely he could hardly bear it. 

“I am truly sorry.” It took him far too long to break the silence that hung in the air, only punctured once by your sharp intake of breath in an attempt to hold back tears. “I wish there was more I could do for you. There should be more I could do for you as a viscount, but…”

Sure that you would be able to hold back any tears should they decide to pester you once more, you turned to face Anthony with what you hoped was a convincing smile. “You need not apologize, my lord. You have already done far more for me than any rational man should have in your position.” 

“One could argue it is because of you I’ve done all this,” he said. “You have a way about you that makes a rational man want nothing more than irrationality.” 

That brought a genuine smile to your face, thankfully able to avoid the tears you thought were sure to come. 

“You flatter me, Lord Bridgerton,” you said wryly. 

“Anthony,” he said, and you blinked. 

“Pardon?” 

“I believe we are far past Lord Bridgerton,” he explained with a slight smile. “What, with how many times you have bared your soul to me this season, I should think Anthony is perfectly acceptable.” 

You felt your cheeks heat up under his warm gaze as you nodded. “Then Anthony it shall be.”

Trying to recover from the embarrassingly soft moment, you cleared your throat and turned away once more. “Of course, your permission is not needed to refer to you as your name rather than a title, but I suppose it cannot hurt.” 

This time, the smile was nearly palpable in his words. “Of course, Miss Worthing.” 

You shook your head as you said your name. “If I am to call you Anthony, you shall call me by my given name as well. It is only fair.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “When has fairness ever been a concern of yours in regards to me?” 

“Anthony,” you said, though not without slight mirth, “will you do it?” 

“If it is what you desire.” Anthony then said your name, and you could not deny how your chest spurned in such a way at the sound. 

There was so much you yearned to say, so much on the tip of your tongue, nearly all of it relating to the man in front of you. How could there be so much of him on your mind, when just a mere fortnight ago you were joking with him about how much you could not stand him?

After ensuring none of your inner emotions were visible on your face, you turned back to him and offered a small smile. “It certainly is.”

But as he smiled back at you, that slight quirk of his lips that softened his features and brought out the light in his eyes that you had grown to appreciate but he did not have nearly enough…

You feared you were beginning to desire much more. 

You looked at the sky above, and the stars twinkling back at you suddenly made you remember as you turned back to Anthony. 

“We should get back,” you said. “It would be woefully inappropriate for a man of honor to miss his carriage.” 

His lips twitched at your words. “You end our outing so soon?”

“You were against it in the first place,” you pointed out. “And I believe this has lasted far longer than I initially planned.” 

“I was also against your ruse,” Anthony said, and when he stood up, he offered his hand. “But you seem to be quite skilled at changing my mind.” 

It was so different from all the others, when he offered his arm for a promenade or took you to the dance floor, and it was why you hesitated. But you pushed the thought aside as you took it, and Anthony pulled you up from the ground. 

“I suppose I am,” you joked.

“Thank you for this.” He brushed off his clothes, a smile as genuine as the others pulling at his lips. “It was enjoyable.” 

“Just enjoyable?” you asked playfully. 

“My apologies,” Anthony said. “This was fantastic. Incredible. Is life-changing satisfactory?” 

You nodded, biting back your smile. “I believe so. Nothing with me is anything less than life-changing.” 

“That is certain,” he agreed.

Anthony offered his arm and the two of you began walking back to the front of your estate. The silence was comfortable as it lingered in the air, only broken once you stopped in front of the carriage that he was indeed late for. 

“I do mean it,” Anthony said, “my thanks for this. Sincerely so.” 

“Of course,” you said. “If you ever find you are in need of some stars, my yard is always open.” 

His lips quirked into a slight smile. “The stars do not have much meaning without you beside me to give them one.” 

You huffed a slight laugh as your gaze turned upwards again. “Well, that is Cassiopeia,” you said with a gesture at the sky, and you managed a wry smile. “Though you will probably just see more lines.” 

“If you tell me they are more than lines, then they are more than lines,” Anthony said. “That much, I know.” 

You felt the warmth rise to your cheeks, and you curtsied to him. “I will see you tomorrow, Lord Bridgerton.” 

“I will see you tomorrow.” Anthony hesitated, gazing into your eyes with abandon. He lifted your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to it, murmuring your name before he let it go. 

And then he entered the carriage, though there was some form of reluctance in his movements. You waited until his departure, even longer after until he and his men were nothing but a speck in the distance, and it wasn’t until then that you could breathe freely. 

“My lady?”

Your focus was broken at the sound of your lady’s maid’s voice, and you blinked a multitude of times as you turned around.

“Julia,” you said. “What brings you here?”

“You, my lady,” she said with a slight laugh. “You’ve just been… standing out here. Alone. Doing nothing.”

“My apologies,” you said with a practiced smile, though you wrought your hands together. “I appear to be in my head tonight. You needn’t come out here for me.”

“I wanted to make sure you were alright,” Julia said. “Is the viscount gone?”

“He is. I saw him off.” The skin where his lips touched still burned, and you felt a swell of something inside of you. “I— I should be settling in for the night.”

You began walking in at a hasty pace, but Julia easily matched it. “Of course. I will help you get ready.”

You shook your head, and you couldn’t help but cast one last glance out the door before it closed. You cleared your throat and looked back at Julia. “All I request is that you help me into my dressing gown, and then you can retire. I would like some solitude tonight.”

She nodded. “Of course, my lady.”

“Is my mother still awake?” you asked as the two of you walked up the stairs together.

“No,” Julia said. “She retired shortly after you and the viscount took your leave.”

“Good,” you murmured. You did not think you could deal with her much tonight. Not after… whatever it was that went on between you and him. 

Julia did as asked, helping you out of your layers and into your nightgown before she took her leave. 

Lying in bed alone, you found yourself staring at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. 

All you could think of was Anthony. His eyes boring into yours, the heat of his lips against your bare hand, his willingness to do something he likely saw as ridiculous merely because it made you happy. The weight of his jacket against your shoulders, the attentiveness he had towards you for him to have realized. 

The softness with which he said your name, every syllable a symphony in your ears, more beautiful than anything simply because Anthony spoke it. 

Oh. 

Your heart hammered in your chest as the realization struck. 

Oh. 

You were doomed. 

-

Split down the middle. It was an apt designation for how you felt in the coming days and weeks. 

One part of you—the idiot, lovesick part—wanted nothing but to spend more time with Anthony Bridgerton. A singing heart every time Julia told you he awaited you in the drawing room, weakened knees when he offered his hand to pull you onto the dance floor, an unavoidable smile throughout any of your conversations. You finally realized what all those ladies saw in the Viscount Bridgerton. 

The other part—the intelligent part that knew this was the one thing that could absolutely not happen—wanted nothing more than to ignore his every call. To stay silent during promenades, to refuse his dance offers, to stay shut in your room when he called on you. To be able to avoid him in every possible way because you could not encourage your feelings further.  

It was terrible. Awful. Horrendous. You were quite sure that you loved Anthony Bridgerton, and the one thing you were meant to do was not love Anthony Bridgerton. 

The more time you spent around him, the more you thought about him, the more you felt for him, and there was not a single way to avoid it because his courtship was the only thing keeping you above water. 

You really were doomed. 

“Are you even listening to me?” 

You blinked as Eloise said your name, and you looked over at her. “I apologize. I was in my head.” 

“You’ve been in your head quite frequently as of late,” Eloise said, and she huffed a sigh as she flopped onto the couch next to you. “I can only assume my brother is to blame.” 

You felt your cheeks heat. If only she knew how true that was. 

“He is part of it,” you admitted, turning your head slightly so she could not see any visible embarrassment. “It may not be easy to be a Bridgerton, but it’s by no means easy to be courted by one, either.” 

“I can imagine,” she said with another sigh. “For how serious Anthony always is, he certainly is dramatic.” Eloise eyed you. “Would you like me to speak plainly?” 

Your brows creased slightly, though you still didn’t look at her. “Always.” 

“I honestly think he may be enjoying this,” she said. “Anthony has never been much for… anything, really. Anything besides duty. He’s pleasant around us for the most part, and I love him with all my heart, but he’s always so serious.” She shrugged. “It appears that you’ve brought out another side of him.” 

Your breath caught in your chest for a moment. You still could not bring yourself to meet her eyes. “Truly?” 

“Truly,” Eloise nodded. “When you end this, I believe he’ll come out the other side a better man. So I suppose I should thank you for this whole ruse.” 

A smile played on your lips for a moment, but it fell just as quickly. You’d always known it was going to end—the ruse was your idea in the first place—and yet you were the one fighting against her impossible feelings. You were a damn doomed fool. 

You had to fight the urge to hit your head against the back of the couch. You felt as if you were going insane, but you could not reveal the whirlwind inside your mind to anyone. 

“There is no need to thank me,” you finally said. “It’s been a pleasure.” 

“A pleasure,” Eloise said dryly. “Really?” 

You nodded, finally sitting up and looking at her. “Yes. Anthony was a bit of a nuisance at first, but…” you smiled just at the thought of him. “We’ve become friends after all this time. Quite close friends.” 

Eloise’s nose wrinkled, and then she sighed yet again. “I suppose it is a good thing if you two are getting along. As long as you will still trade barbs with me about him.” 

You chuckled. “Always.” 

You couldn’t tell her. You wouldn’t tell her, because there was no use in creating such a problem for no reason. 

You loved Anthony, you were sure of that by now, though you had not previously thought it at all possible. And none of it mattered, because by the end of the season, your courtship would be a distant memory. 

You and Eloise continued your idle chatter, but your heart was not in it. How could it be, when you could only think of Anthony? You could only think of Anthony, the one man you never thought you would want and now the one man you can never have. 

It was ridiculous. He turned you into a ridiculous woman and you would never forgive him for it. 

You’d always wondered how you would end your ruse when your mothers had grown so attached to the courtship, the idea of you as a Bridgerton. 

Your mothers were no longer the problem. 

-

The middle of the season came and went, your feelings for Anthony growing ever stronger—your disdain for those feelings grew alongside them. 

Your parents were working harder than ever as the peak of the season approached—your father spent most nights bent over documents and papers regarding the finances, pushing pennies so that you would be able to afford the frivolities of the ton and appearing on the arm of a Bridgerton. 

Your mother had a job of equal difficulty—she had to maintain the Worthing image and name. It had never been the best to begin with as one of the poorer families of the ton, but Anthony’s courtship had pushed you through the ranks. Your mother was determined to keep you there. 

The pairing between you and Anthony should have remained the same stagnant charade, but it was difficult to act the same as always with your feelings evolving ever so. It did not help that both your mother and Lady Bridgerton were convinced a proposal was to be just around the corner when nothing could be further from the truth. 

And it was not as if they were wrong for holding that belief. Were this a traditional courting, Anthony would likely be preparing to get down on one knee—instead, your promenades consisted of discussions on how best to end your situation. 

(“Perhaps you could have a meltdown,” Anthony had suggested once. “It would certainly not come as a surprise to the ton—they would merely see it as what has been coming all along.” 

“Your faith in me is truly astounding, Anthony,” you said dryly. “It is sure to be a mystery on how we did not work out.” 

He chuckled and shook his head. “I am only trying to work with you. Must I remind you that it was you that started this, all because you did not want to get married? This would simply be an extension—you’ve never wanted to marry a man before, what is one more to add to the list?” 

“Yes, but…” you shook your head and sighed. “I fear we may have performed our act too well. At this point, it feels as if any means of our splitting will hurt our mothers and cause a riot in the ton, no matter how we do it.” 

“I think you may be right,” Anthony said, and he frowned. “I do not know whether I want Hyacinth to find out you will not be her sister through Whistledown or through me—I know I could not handle the look on her face, but to let her discover it through gossip seems even worse.” 

You could not help a sly smile at that. “Are you telling me I have charmed your family even more than I had before?” 

He offered a smile of his own. “I believe I have charmed your family just as much, if not more. Your mother adores me more than ever.”) 

No, it did not help that your mother adored him, and it did not help that Hyacinth and Gregory adored you. Every second spent around Anthony and his family pushed you further to your doom, and what a lovely doom it was. 

Seeing Anthony dressed up at every ball was also not of aid, and you could not help but smile when your eyes met at the latest ball. You knew of your mother’s watchful eye over both of you, but you found you didn’t care when he offered his hand. 

“You look beautiful,” Anthony murmured so only you could hear it as he led you out to the dance floor. You took up your positions and started the waltz—you had Anthony to thank for the increase in your skill, for the amount of dancing you did these days made it impossible for your ability to remain stagnant. 

You chuckled a bit. “Thank you, Anthony, but nobody can hear us. You do not need to keep up appearances.” 

The smile remained on his lips for just a moment too long before he blinked and nodded. “You are correct. I suppose it is just becoming a habit.” 

Butterflies erupted in your chest, and in your flustered state, you fell out of the rhythm and missed your next step. If it hadn’t been for Anthony leading so well, you would’ve fallen. 

How could he just say those things? How could he just say those frustratingly charming things without blinking an eye, words that made you trip over your feet and spurned warmth in your core and drove you insane? 

Did Anthony even know what he did to you? 

“Are you alright?” he questioned, and for a moment all you were able to do was stare into his eyes. They were beautiful. 

“Yes,” you finally managed, clearing your throat as you glanced away for a moment. 

It is just becoming a habit, he said, words that near perfectly echoed your own situation.

Each time you slipped your arm around Anthony’s, each time he was a caller in your drawing room for an early morning—early mornings which you were becoming all the fonder of with each outing—each time he smiled at you in that way of his, each time you looked into those warm brown eyes, each time he was just the slightest bit too close and you were able to feel your heart speed up and your breath hitch. 

Being around Anthony Bridgerton was becoming a habit for you, you realized, a habit you did not want to let go of. 

You did not realize Anthony was speaking to you until he said your name again and you snapped out of your thoughts, staring at him for a moment before you nodded. 

“Apologies,” you covered up, “it seems I am very in my head tonight.” 

“It is alright,” he said, smiling softly. “I was merely asking if your outing with your parents the other night went well.” 

“Yes,” you breathed, “yes, it was quite pleasant.” 

Though you answered, you could still hardly focus. And it was all because of the man you were dancing with, because of the delicate yet sure grip he had on your hands, because of the sweetest eyes you’d ever known gazing at you with reassurance. 

You were horribly in love with Anthony Bridgerton, and there was nothing you could do about it. 

-

“…So,” Anthony said as the two of you trailed through the streets, “remind me what you have roped me into?”

“I have not roped you into anything,” you said. “I am taking you to a rally; one for the advancement of women. I believe it would do you some good to see what your myriad of sisters put up with because of men like you.” 

“Men like me?” he repeated, having the gall to sound slightly offended. 

“Yes, men like you,” you agreed. “Men who do not even question why they are so deserving of their position so high above us, and do not even think to change things because society solely benefits them.” 

“Do you ever get tired of your constant bitterness?” he asked dryly. 

“No,” you responded cheerfully, “I only get tired of you.” 

“Ah,” he said with a nod. “That is why you have not only decided to be my fake courtee for an entire season, but to willingly bring me along on one of your weekend escapades.” 

“I put up with you so I will not have to put up with those even more irritating,” you reminded him.

“And that is why you always smile at me with the strength of a thousand suns while we dance?” he asked. “Why you continue to promenade with me and indulge my conversational whims and accept me without complaint as a constant caller?” 

You shrugged, and you hoped the heat rushing to your cheeks was not visible. Perhaps he could read you better than you thought. “As I said, it is so I will not have to put up with those more irritating. I have come to appreciate you.” 

“Times like these, I wonder if we are truly faking it,” Anthony said. “We already bicker as much as a married couple — perhaps we have somehow skipped the engagement and the wedding and gone right into the arguments.” 

“I believe that is simply called friendship, Anthony.” 

He raised his eyebrows, a smile tugging at his lips as he said your name. “You see me as a friend?” 

“And now I regret saying it,” you laughed.  

“Oh, do not lie,” Anthony said wryly. “Why have you brought me here, if not to argue on the way?” 

“It is simply a learning experience for you,” you scoffed. “It is actually quite enriching, Anthony. You may want to take your leave now though, lest you end up learning something.” 

“You are truly hilarious,” he said, devoid of emotion. He glanced down at the basket you carried in your hands before looking back to you. “And what is in there?”

“Any goods I can spare,” you said. “I am one of the poorer ladies in the ton, but I am still more fortunate than many of the women that attend these rallies. They are often working mothers and sisters trying their best to support their families, but it is hardly ever enough. I do what I can to make it even the slightest bit easier for them.”

Anthony went silent, and when you glanced at him he had an odd look on his face, his gaze set on you.

“What?” you asked, and he offered the smallest smile.

“That is quite a gesture,” he finally said. “Most families in society tend to ignore anyone beneath them. They would not be caught dead in a place like this.”

“They are not beneath me,” you corrected. “They are not beneath any of us. None of them have chosen the lives they lead; wealth begets wealth, and poverty the same. It is a vicious cycle that hardly anyone is able to break out of. I see no reason why I should not use my privilege to make anyone’s life even the slightest bit easier.”

“Besides,” you said with a raise of your brow, “you are here with me, are you not?”

Anthony nodded after a moment. “I suppose you are rubbing off on me.”

You smiled. “I am glad to have gotten through to you on at least one thing. Helping others with your wealth is perhaps the best thing for you to pick up from me, I think.”

“You are quite good at ruining the moment, are you aware?”

“Oh,” you said with a cheeky smile, “I absolutely am.”

You soon made it to the opening where the rally was being held. Though some were underground in the metaphorical sense, this one was rather out in the open. It was in a darker corner of the city, so you supposed the organizers did not think they would be disturbed. 

You wandered around with Anthony for a bit as you emptied your basket to a variety of women and youths, and by the time the first speaker had begun, you had handed out everything you’d brought. 

You took Anthony’s hand and pulled him behind you as you moved through the crowd to get closer, and when you tried to let go of his hand, he wouldn’t let you. You smiled up at him, and it seemed as if he’d only realized what he’d done in that moment. 

“I do not trust this part of town,” he whispered to you. “It is for your protection.” 

“Of course,” you whispered back, though you could not hide your mirth as you turned back to the speaker. 

It was wonderful. She spoke of all sorts of things relating to women and the betterment of your sex, how they deserved a place in Parliament and a voice and respect for more than motherly duties, how— 

“This is unseemingly,” Anthony huffed. 

You frowned. “How?” 

“This is hardly a proper place for anyone.” His eyes darted around. 

“This is where I am to end up if I do not figure out a better way out of the ton,” you said. “This is how a majority of London lives.” 

“I am aware of that,” he muttered. “Do not think me so naive that I do not understand my privilege. I just…” Anthony shook his head and sighed. “No matter. How many of these have you been to?” 

“Five, I believe.” You frowned. “Six, actually. There was the time I told my parents I was ill and snuck out.” 

“It is a miracle you are still alive,” Anthony marveled. 

You shrugged. “I never said I was intelligent. Merely smart.” 

He laughed, genuine and full, and you found yourself smiling. 

And then there was yelling. 

Your brows creased again as you looked to the front, only to see a man. His burly and unkempt appearance weren’t the only off-putting things about him. He spat rhetoric against everything the rally stood for, and the look in his eye was chilling. 

You’d heard of this happening before, of men from the city who indulged their baser instincts and liked the world just the way it was now, invading rallies and meetings held by women just to create problems and spread fear.  

Some cries ran out around the crowd, and your head whirled around to see other men like the one yelling pushing through the sea of people, intimidating and snapping their way through. You went to take a step back, but Anthony was already ahead of you as his grip on your hand tightened. 

It appeared that this was one of those times. 

“Ah,” you said, beginning to back up alongside Anthony. “I forgot to mention one thing to you.” 

“And that is?” he asked, annoyance coloring his words. 

“This gathering is not exactly legal.” You winced as a pairing shouldered past you, but you held fast onto Anthony’s hand. “I’d say it’s quite illegal, actually. Which is why it can be interrupted in this fashion.” 

“Wonderful,” he breathed. “I’d say that it is time to take our leave. Would you agree?” 

“Yes,” you said, “I would.” 

The glint of a knife caught your eye even from afar, gripped in the hand of one of the men, and a lady’s scream pierced the air. 

And then full-on chaos broke out. 

-

Everything after that was mostly a blur. Something triggered inside of Anthony, clear in the wild look in his eye, and his only thought was seemingly to get you out unharmed. It worked for the most part, to his credit, though you didn’t get away completely unscathed. 

You also did not get away together. Somewhere in the middle, someone had barreled between the two of you and broken your link. Anthony had lost you in the rush, and he felt as if he was going insane. 

This may have been your idea, illegal as it was, but he was not going to allow anything to happen to you. He couldn’t allow anything to happen to you— he couldn’t. 

He shouted your name, once, twice, three times, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried his best to navigate through the insanity. This was no longer a rally, this was a riot, and with you missing Anthony truly feared the worst. His stomach twisted into knots just thinking about it.

He shouted your name, once, twice, three times, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried his best to navigate through the insanity. This was no longer a rally, this was a riot, and with you missing Anthony truly feared the worst. His stomach twisted into knots just thinking about it.

He’d just passed an alleyway when a hand darted out of nowhere and pulled him to the side; though his first instinct was to break away, the weight of his anxieties disappeared when he saw who had dragged him over.

Anthony said your name with complete relief, his shoulders dropping as the tension faded away. “I couldn’t find you, and I thought the worst— thank God you’re safe.” 

“Thank God you are safe,” you murmured, and he chuckled as he shook his head. Somehow, in this situation, you were worried about him. 

“I still cannot believe you are here,” Anthony huffed. He moved to the edge of the alleyway to watch, waiting for the chaos to clear out. “Is this truly what you are engaging in every weekend? Barbaric riots where its attendees are lucky to make it out alive?” 

“I promise,” you said through a shaky exhale, pressing your aching fingers to your chest as you held your good hand against your bleeding nose, “they are never like this.”

His eyes darted back over to you, and that was when he noticed the injury. “God, what happened to you?” 

You opened your mouth to diminish it, but Anthony moved over and began examining you for worse injuries. You let out a breathy laugh and shook your head. “I am fine, Anthony, trust me. Men in these parts believe in one vein of equality, at least, seeing as I was punched in the face.” 

His eyes widened and it only made you smile more. “Do not worry. I punched him back.” You held up your hand, bunching it into a fist. “I believe my knuckles will bruise something fierce later, though.” 

Anthony shook his head, another breathless laugh taking him. “You are truly something else.” 

“And I am fine,” you assured, though the slight strain of your voice said something different. Anthony did not notice, though, and he moved back to his spot on the edge watching for clearings.  

“You said you have been to six of these before,” Anthony said. “And they have never been like this?” 

“Never.” 

“Then I assume this riot was something special they planned just for me.”

“You jest, but you may not be far from the truth.” You chuckled but immediately winced. “You are bad luck, Anthony.”

“I am bad luck?“ He turned and fixed you with a pointed look. “You are the one who threw herself into the middle of a fight; it is fortunate you got away with so few injuries.” 

You huffed a laugh but a sharp pain once again shot through your chest, far more extreme than the last, and you barely managed to stifle your gasp of pain. You took your hand away from your nose and pressed it against your side, but all it caused was an even greater ripple of pain throughout your entire body. 

When you took your hand away, every part that had been against your dress was coated in a shimmering layer of blood, a small drop falling from your finger and splattering to the ground below. Your heart caught in your throat as you weakly pulled at the hem, crimson red seeping through the laceration in the fabric as a confirmation of the injury below. 

So it seemed you had not been lucky enough to get away with only a bloody nose and bruised knuckles. 

“...Anthony?” you managed weakly, your limbs growing heavy as your vision began to blur. “I… it…” 

Anthony’s head whipped around. His eyes were the last thing you saw, wide with fear and lips moving in silent panic as he lunged towards you. 

And then the world around you faded into darkness.

-

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator @louderfortheback 

bridgerton tags: @theonewithallthemilkshakes @rach2602 @milkiane @korol-lantsov @heyyitsreign

not so simple tags: @ifilwtmfc @readers-post @fangirling-galore @funkydinosaurs @baby-i-am-fireproof @mess-is-my-aesthetic @likeballet @mdkfh @brezzybfan @magical-spit @lafy-taffy @miss-celestial-being @mercurysrhapsody @evilsailorsenshi @mainstreambitchlife @aangsupremacy @chloepluto1306 @lostaudfound @panhoeofmanyfandoms @blhemmings @my-acrylic-heart

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Simon Says, Fuck Me

♡ NSFW, fem reader, smartass!reader, oral->male receiving (more like face fucking lol), spitting in someone's mouth without warning, established relationship, reader can't stop interrupting Baji but Baji likes that about her, Baji is just straight up nasty in this one y'all ♡

Characters: Just Baji (my little arsonist)

note: this lovely little idea was given to me by my equally lovely moot @i-literally-cant-with-this

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You were just laying on your bed relaxing. Your thumb lazily swiped across your phone screen as you scrolled through social media, when all of a sudden your boyfriend ran through the door, out of breath and panting.

"What the hell? Are you good?"

He looked at you and took in a deep breath before speaking.

"Yeah I'm fine! The real question is, do you wanna play Simon Says?"

"Really Kei? That's why you came rushing in here, do I look like I feel like playing?"

"Pretty please y/n? With black cats wearing cute hats on top?"

The look on your boyfriend's face was just too cute to resist. The way his little fangs poked out while he pouted was the kicker, you had no choice but to agree.

"Okay fine! Just out of curiosity, what do I get if I win?"

"Whatever you want. Name it and it's yours!"

"Okay, I can get down with that."

"But if I win-"

"Oh God, why did I agree to this?"

"Babe shush, I'm not done. If I win, I get to tie you up tonight~"

"Absolutely not."

"Too late! You already agreed, now lemme explain the rules to you doll. First off, I'm Simon-"

"No really? I thought you were Edward?"

"Y/nnn!"

"Okay I'm sorry, please continue."

"Okay so I'm Simon, I'm going to tell you what to do-"

"Yeah no shit, that's how the game goes."

Baji loved you wholeheartedly, but sometimes he just wanted to choke the hell out of you because why are you such a smartass? Nevertheless he continued with the rules.

"Yeah but there's a difference. When I tell you to do something, you have to do it. If you don't, then you automatically lose and I win. Got it?"

"So if I don't do everything you say then I lose? That sounds so unfair."

"If you're too much of a wimp to play then we don't have to."

"A wimp? You're tryna egg me on to play aren't you?"

"Is it working?"

"Unfortunately yes, let's just start the game please."

Baji mentally highfived himself before thinking about all the things he could ask you to do, he decided to start off slow and simple though.

"Simon says, touch your nose."

You tapped your finger on the tip of your nose, trying not to giggle at how serious he looked right now.

"Simon says, don't talk for the rest of the game."

You took your hand and made a zipping motion across your lips, signalling silence.

"Simon says, get on your knees."

You were about to say something before you realized that if you talked you would lose, so you once again reluctantly listened to your boyfriend and slid off the bed to get on your knees.

"Simon says, open your pretty little mouth~"

You looked at him as if to say "really?" before opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. He walked over to you, admiring the irritated look on your face before leaning down and dropping a glob of spit in your mouth. You held back a gag as you felt his spit hit the back of your throat and promised yourself that you'd punch the shit out of him for catching you off guard like that.

"Good job angel! I really thought you were gonna fold on that one, guess I have to try a little harder."

He looked at you with a smirk that just told you how fucking cocky he is and how confident he was that you were gonna lose. His hands latched onto his pants, undoing them and whipping out his thick cock. You felt choked up just at the thought of him in your mouth right now, but you couldn't help but find how he was acting extremely attractive. The way he could take control of you so quickly made you melt and he knew that. He slapped the tip of his dick on your outstretched tongue, lining it up perfectly with your throat. His hands cupped your face before he gave you another command.

"Simon says, don't gag."

It was evident he wanted you to gag and lose the game by the way he rammed into your mouth, yet you didn't falter. Not when his calloused hands were gripping your face a little too tightly, not when he grabbed fistfuls of your hair, not even when tears threatened to form in your eyes.

"Look at that, you're taking me so good darling. You might just win the game."

He groaned as your throat clenched around him, and between a string of praises and curses he uttered one more command.

"Simon says, make me cum ♡"

If anything it was less of a command and more of a statement considering that he was about to cum anyway. You dug your nails into your thighs as you fought the urge to grab at him. Taking deep breaths as he shot his load down your throat, desperately trying to stay quiet. His grip on your face softened and he pulled out of your mouth. A mix of satisfaction and disappointment could be seen on his face.

"Well darling, I guess you win. What do you want as your prize?"

"I have a few ideas~"

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah, but first I wanna clean my face off."

He looked down at your messy face, and the grin he had only got bigger as he saw how you were covered in drool and some of his cum.

"Yeah that sounds like a good idea."

He helped you up off the floor and watched as you started walking to the bathroom before you suddenly stopped in the doorway of the bedroom.

"Hey Kei, one more thing."

"What?"

"Remind me to never play a game with you ever again."

He chuckled as you walked out, knowing that no matter how many times you say that, he'd rope you into playing another game.

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katshimizuu @happy-trenchcoated-impala @kazubarbie @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies

[yorsgirl]

Take the long way home

Tags: Ryomen Sukuna x gn!reader, emotional hurt/comfort, established relationship, implied college AU, no use of pronouns or y/n. w.c. 1.5k (ig?)

A/N: purely self indulgent + had the worst fucking day possible so let me give you some fluff <3

It's not everyday that you slouch like this.

Sukuna knows that clearly. Considering he thinks he almost has you and all of your antics figured out—creating a mind map for himself. He knows you go through your phases where you'll just shut yourself in a room or a corner in the house; a need for tranquility rather than depravity.

Even then, this- this is different. Well, not that different. You almost act the way you normally do yet the aura that radiates from you just heightens his instincts that screams at him that something's wrong.

"Spit it, what's wrong?"

You merely crane your neck towards him, there's a vague expression of thought process as you scrunch up your eyebrows before relaxing them. Softly do you shake your head with a low hum indicating - nothing, before you seclude him from your attention.

Alright, something's definitely wrong.

You've always been a hard nut to crack, dreading the idea of opening up to someone and fearing how literally any weakness can be exploited. You aren't completely a pessimist but this trait of yours had certainly impressed Sukuna more than he'd like to admit. Yet, here now, with you slouching like this beside him, falling a few steps behind just to increase the pace and catch up to him and you don't even give him a verbal answer, this causes an ire of vexation to alight in him.

No, not now. He exhales softly and attempts again.

"Oi," He doesn't receive a response this time around. Clearing his throat, he lowers his tone, nudging your shoulder. "I am calling you."

"Mhm... what?"

He marks the low tone of voice with the two seconds delayed response. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"You're slouching."

Instantly, you straightened your back, locking your hands behind. With a non-commital shrug, you ask, "Better?"

"No." Normally, you'd have bitten back with a sarcastic remark. This time you don't. Involuntarily, he scans you with narrowed eyes. "What's so damn depressing that can't even say it?"

"I told you, I am fine."

There's the denial again.

"Right,"He hisses, hoping his lack of belief is evident. "You don't look fine at all."

"If I don't look fine then stop asking."

This time round, you completely turn your attention towards him. A palpable scowl is etched upon your features and while oftentimes did the exact same expression irritate him, here it only bothers him. Bothersome that you are hell bent on hiding something from him. When did he ever made you feel like that? Sure, he has a reputation around the town but you should've known by now that none of that attitude will ever be bestowed upon you.

Sukuna runs his fingers through his hair before they curl around his locks and he purposely gives them a sharp tug. He can just leave you to slump and hope you'll get better on your own which you of course will. However, just the thought of it gnaws at him causing him to cringe in extreme disgust. How could he just leave you to your own misery and expect you to get over it when it is bothering you so damn much? For all he knows, he could be the reason of this state of yours. No, he'd rather watch cocomelon for a wholw fucking day with his nephew than leave you like this. On cue does an idea pops up his head and wow- luck's just on his side.

Both of you exit the college campus, Sukuna's a step ahead of you as he strides to his bike. He swings his leg over the vehicle and once comfortable with his position, he clasps his helmet and passes you another.

"Let's take the long way home."

In response, you could only squint your eyes, a hint of silent protest slips on your features and just when he thought you'd retaliate, you don't. Instead, you pinch your lips together before giving him the positive note.

"Fine," You perch behind him, scooting closer as you wrap your arms around his waist. "But we are going straight home."

"Whatever you say, your highness."

Sukuna whistles with a approving grin before revving on the engine and soon he is out of the driveway.

True to his words, he is making this drive a long one. The idea of it stemmed from the fact that your uncharacteristic silence had just been so loud that he could have hit his head somewhere. Obviously, you aren't ready to open up to him and he knows. He gets it, he really does. Hence, all of it comes down to this.

Something's got you all pissy and what's better than a late night drive to cure you?

Besides, didn't you always say that only music and drives make you feel better? At this instant, he can't provide the music so you'll have to compensate on that.

"Will be on the highway soon."

"Yeah..." You trail off on the word but don't add anything further.

Well, not for long.

Definitely, it wasn't for long.

Sukuna speeds up his bike racing past the, few, surrounding vehicles. The accelerating of the engine almost cuts off all the external sound and although it might seem boisterous to some personal, all it does is fuel up his crave for thrill. (Hopefully, yours too)

Late at night, the highway is a typical one. Thick darkness coats the road except for the streetlights which provides little to no light. The asphalt ribbon like road stretched out ahead and finally disappears into the inky unknown. All of it has a spooky vibe, an eerieness with the quite of the night which only upturns the fact that this might just turn into one of those clichéd horror movies.

Fortunately, your thoughts aren't that far.

"Are you trying to enact the movie we saw last week?"

Progress, good. Though you can't see it, he raises an eyebrow, "Why? Scared, are you?"

"You wish," You scoff playfully. "It had the very same plot and the very same ending as all the other ones."

"Like you have got any better."

"Hey–" You protest. "The notebook was good."

He exhales loudly, "Same old romantic shit."

"Your action movies aren't doing anything good either by breaking the laws the of physics." You muse with a subtle curve of your lips.

"Better than your sentimental historical dramas."

You pucker your lips, "They aren't that bad."

"Yeah?"

"Well fine," You sigh exasperately. "We all have our guilty pleasures."

"You-" Sukuna corrects, overtaking a car on the road. "You have your guilty pleasures, not me."

"I saw you binging MasterChef the other day."

This manages to throw him off guard. His lips twist in a notable frown and he refrains from turning back to look at you. "How the fuck do you know that?"

"Uh huh," You grin and he calls your name which only makes your grin wider.

"For fuck's sake, when?"

"Mhm, not telling."

"I am not going to ask again."

"Well don't," You coo at him. "All the good for me."

"That was a warning, brat."

"Oh my," You gasp in mock surprise. "To me that sounded like a love confession."

He calls your name again, this time though you're pressing your face on his back as you try to hold back the laughter; failing miserably.

The sound of your saccharine chuckles mingles with the wind, carrying a sense of serenity which for unknown reasons could only soften the callous boy, in front of you. The tender gasps of breath as you try to recoil could never be more calming. Even with the throttling engine, the way you've clutched his shirt for support makes him question does a more perfect moment could ever exists?

You relax only thirty seconds later.

"Better?"

There's an undeniable soft edge in his voice which fails to elude you. Looking back, there's two questions strewn into one.

You nod, "Better."

Sukuna hums, staying silent for a few seconds before questioning again. "Wanna talk about it?"

You think over the offer for a second or two before indulging him. Nestling yourself closer to him, you begin, "Today was just... bad. Like from the time I woke up, everything's just– uh, what should I say? Everything's just—"

"Screwing itself up?"

"Screwing itself up."

A silence prevails for sometime then you continue, "It's not something big but well... it's kind of just tiring."

Though the details are vague, Sukuna listens through it all. Quipping back once or twice which elicited a chuckle or two from you. The rest of the drive in the highway in spent in you pouring out all of the conundrum which were bestowed upon you. None of them aren't that major but the accumulation of it all is certain to ruin anyone's day; he wouldn't be an exception either.

"So–" He starts after you're done venting. "Just cause you had this shitty day, you're getting this. We can get takeout from anywhere you want then we go home, you turn on any of your guilty pleasures or we can just check who has the better movie choices among say, what say?"

"Yes!" You exclaim, tightening your hold on his waist and Sukuna could almost picture the twinkle in your eyes and the delighted curve of your lips. In all cases, he will deny that such an insignificant gesture could ever make blood rush up to the center of his chest, could ever make him grin like an idiot; in truth, it does. You rest your chin on his back. "Can we get sushi?"

"You brat–"He mutters under his breath. "Sushi, it is."

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 13 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica's fraternity fundraiser is the most popular event during alumni weekend. While that should be enough to guarantee she's smiling all night, an unwanted guest turns up to make sure that doesn't happen. Jake is set on taking care of her, but he desperately wants her to open up.

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of smut, angst, swearing, mentions of cheating, frat boys, 18+

Length: 4300 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

"Come on, Hangman," Bradley grunted. "You're acting like you've never been to a frat party before."

Jake watched him adjusting the keg of beer in the enormous tub of ice on the back porch of the fraternity house. "We're supposed to carry this inside?" Jake balked. "Why? It's going to make a mess."

"Jesus Christ, Jake. You need beer to play beer pong."

"We played it with champagne at your house on New Year's Eve," he countered, just to irritate Bradshaw. 

"Yeah, and it low key pissed off my wife. Just help me carry this inside before both of them get mad at us."

He and Jake struggled with the keg and dropped it off in the back hallway where the exceptionally nerdy looking frat boys would be able to access it to fill up the crystal cups between rounds. In fact, one of them was coming over now, all dressed up in his tuxedo. 

"Excuse me, sir. Can you help me move some of the ping pong tables?"

Bradley looked absolutely disgusted as he said, "Only if you stop calling me sir." Bradley went off to help him while Jake found Jessica in the kitchen going over the menus with the culinary students. She looked gorgeous, and he wanted to get his hands on her, but there was a soft crease between her eyebrows that told Jake she was starting to stress. 

"What can I do?" he asked when she glanced his way.

"Can you check to make sure you can hear the string quartet everywhere?" she asked him. "Everyone should start arriving in about ten minutes."

"Of course." Jake walked around the entire downstairs of the sprawling Victorian house, and after a minute he realized the quartet was playing Hot In Herre by Nelly. Not only could he hear it everywhere, it also sounded incredible, and he had to fight the urge to start dancing. 

When he walked into the main living room, Bradshaw and his wife had their backs to him while they threw a few test shots at one of the tables. Jake had to appreciate the juxtaposition that Jessica had achieved here. It was an elevated college experience for adults. 

"Let's try this out," Bradshaw mumbled, stretching like he was about to compete in an event at the actual olympics. "I honestly don't love that Jess didn't go regulation with solo cups," he complained, aiming at the crystal glassware lined up at the far end of the table. 

His wife wrapped her arms around him and said, "Come on, Beer Boy. You can do it."

"Not with you hanging all over me, I can't," he said, but in such a loving way that Jake rolled his eyes. Bradshaw was soft and sweet for literally nobody but his wife. 

"You never once complained about that when we were in college," she mused, kissing the side of his neck when her eyes met Jake's. "Oh look. Another fuckboy."

Jake laughed in response and made his way over to her as the fraternity boys ran around and started pouring glasses of champagne for everyone who was about to arrive. "What did you call me?"

"You heard me," she replied with a grin while her husband made two shots in a row, the pinging of the balls against the crystal making a satisfying sound. "We should play later as long as everything is going smoothly. Fuckboys versus hot ladies."

"Hot, smart ladies," Bradshaw said as he made another shot. Jake got his ass kicked by the two of them on New Year's Eve, but he was more confident he could win with Rooster as his teammate. 

"Here you go, sir," the nerdiest of the boys told Bradley, offering up the champagne flutes on the tray. He growled and snatched one up before handing it to his wife at the same time Jake caught sight of his girlfriend in the kitchen with another guy's arms wrapped around her. 

"What the fuck." He wove around the tables and ducked through the doorway where Jessica was laughing with an extremely attractive man in a purple suit that somehow didn't even look hideous on him. And then she gave him another quick hug before releasing him.

"As soon as you invited me, I dropped everything," the other guy said. "It's not every day you get a chance to look at the beautiful Jessica Reed."

"Stop it, Dev. You're being too sweet. I already can't thank you enough for all the beer."

Perhaps the most disturbing thing was the fact that Jessica looked calmer in the presence of this Dev guy that she had for the past hour, and that didn't even account for the way he was looking at her. Jake cleared his throat loudly. 

"Jake! Come meet Dev Borah!"

When they clasped hands, Jake tried his best at an intimidating handshake, but Dev looked completely unfazed by it. Then he said, "I've heard a lot about you from Bradley. Aren't you the guy who tried to pick up his wife before you realized they were dating?"

Okay. Jake officially hated this guy. He could feel himself blushing, and Jessica was looking up at him with wide eyes. He didn't try to pick up Bradshaw's wife when he met her. Not exactly. He'd put his foot in his mouth a little bit that day last year, but not to the extent Dev was making it out to be. 

"I get it though," he told Jake. "She's beautiful. But so is Jessica. You're very lucky." He slapped Jake on the back before he said, "I just need to run out to my Porsche and grab those gift cards for the silent auction. I'll be right back, Jess."

"I swear I didn't try to pick her up," Jake insisted as soon as he was gone, but Jessica was already laughing at him. 

"She's hot. I get it," she replied as she hugged him. "And I'm sure Dev just wanted to give you a hard time."

Jake rolled his eyes as she tucked her head under his chin. "Are you all set, Baby? I think people are starting to arrive."

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be."

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

An hour later, Jessica was pleasantly surprised. The Kappa Pi house was completely packed. It almost felt like a real frat party, but the partygoers ranged in age from thirty to seventy. They'd already gone through countless bottles of champagne and one of the kegs of beer from Beta Brewing. Jake and Bradley were carrying another iced keg inside to the back hallway where the empty one sat. 

"Thank you," she told Bradley who was flushed from whatever he was drinking. He immediately returned to dance with his wife to the string quartet playing Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg. She'd received so many compliments on the music selection, and everyone was gushing about how delicious the beer was. She just sent the trays of food out of the kitchen, and now the beer pong tournament was underway. 

"You're killing it, Reedy," Jake whispered next to her ear before kissing her. "You got this frat thing on lock." Her heart swelled with pride at his words. Then a tall man in a tuxedo strolled her way with a champagne flute in one hand and a glass of beer in the other. 

"Are you Dr. Reed?" he asked over the noisy crowd and the music. 

"Yes," she replied as he shuffled his drinks so he could shake her hand.

"Dr. Gregory Michaels. I just wanted to let you know that I've been coming to alumni weekends for thirty years, and I was a member of Kappa Pi. In fact, I lived in this house my senior year."

"Did you really?" she asked as he smiled and looked around. 

"It feels exactly the same," he told her with a laugh, and she turned to smile at Jake. "I also wanted to let you know that this is by far the best and most entertaining event I've ever attended. My wife is playing beer pong for the first time with a guy in a backwards hat, and I've never seen her have so much fun. I'll be sure to mention this to Dean Walters when he and I have our next golf outing."

"You know Dean Walters?" she asked, her knees nearly giving out. The dean was like four steps above Brian Conley. There was no way Brian would be able to be a complete dick about her tenure if she had the damn dean on her side. 

"I don't just know him. I used to be his math tutor when we were undergrads together. I'll put in a good word."

When he turned and walked away, Jessica giggled and jumped up and down before she took Jake by the hand and led him away from the kegs. "He knows the dean," she hissed as she pushed her way through the back door. "He's putting in a good word."

"You deserve it," he replied in the relative darkness of the back porch as Jessica pushed his back up against the exterior of the house. He smirked as she came to stand between his legs and kissed him. "You deserve everything."

Jake's hands were on her hips, bunching her dress up inch by inch until he slipped his warm hand inside the slit. He wrapped his hand around her thigh, caressing her with his thumb as he pulled her snug against his body. 

"Who's going to give it to me?" she whispered against his lips. "You?"

He moaned as he palmed her ass. "Yeah, I'll give you everything." Then she laced her fingers through his hair and rubbed herself slowly back and forth along his suit pants as he groaned into her mouth. "Jessica." His voice had a pleading quality as he grew a little harder for her. She felt good right now. Almost powerful. "Baby, please." 

As Jessica dragged her right hand down along his body to his pants zipper, Jake's head tipped back. "You think anyone will notice me on my knees?" she asked teasingly as she pulled his zipper down. 

"Fuck," he whined, but just as she got her hand wrapped around him through his underwear, she heard someone calling her name from inside the house.

"Dev's looking for me," she said, kissing his jaw.

"Well I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't love it if he found you with your hand in my pants."

Jessica giggled. "Just hold that thought for later tonight." She got him zipped up again, and when Dev popped out on the porch and found her, she was kissing Jake, but in a much less compromising position. 

"I need you to verify the silent auction winners," Dev told her. "And then I need you to have a glass of champagne with me."

Jake grunted, but Jessica squeezed his hand to silence him. "Coming, Dev," she told him before turning back to Jake. "Let me check on everything, and then just maybe we'll have a minute to play a game of beer pong. I'll meet you in there."

And then she placed one more filthy kiss on Jake's lips before going inside.

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

Jake sipped his champagne while the crowd around him seemed to move in unison to the cover of Jay-Z that the quartet was playing. It looked like everyone was having a great night, and Bradshaw was no exception as he taught a woman who was easily twice his age how to play beer pong. 

"You need a partner?" 

Jake turned to see a young woman eyeing him up and down with a hopeful smile. Damn. A few months ago, he'd have said yes. And he would have probably ended up sleeping with her either here or back at his condo before kicking her out in the morning. 

"I'm here with my girlfriend." He walked to the other side of the table where Bradshaw's wife was dancing with her own champagne flute. "This whole thing seems successful, right?" he asked.

"Very," she replied. "Look at everyone! That guy's like eighty years old! He's also a huge donor to the college, and he's dancing like nobody's watching."

Jake cracked up. "Meanwhile, everyone is watching." But she was right. Everybody was rocking their formal wear while tossing ping pong balls like there was no tomorrow as the night wore on. 

Then Jessica and Dev emerged from the kitchen, and she came right for him. "Jake, I'm freaking out. I got an email that said I sold all of the tickets available for tonight. And, the items in the silent auction went for a ton of money!"

"I'm not surprised," he replied, pulling her close to his side. "Not one bit. Congratulations."

"You're up!" Bradshaw called out. "Get your ass to the other side of the table, Reed. Hangman, you're with me." Then he kissed his wife, "Get down there with Jessica, Sugar."

"You're about to lose so fucking hard, Beer Boy."

The crowd had started to thin out now, and Jake watched the fraternity boys clean off the table and set up fresh glasses filled with overpriced beer for them. "Ladies first," Jake said, rolling the balls to their end of the table. And that was when he learned that not only was he nowhere near as good as Rooster and his wife, he was also terrible compared to Jessica.

After the ladies sunk both of their shots, Bradley said, "I hope you're ready to drink." And then when Jake missed his first shot, he got a glare in response. "How are you this bad? You went to college."

"I didn't play beer pong. I was busy making out with girls."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "I managed to do both at the same time very successfully. Isn't that right, Sugar?"

She responded by making another shot followed by Jessica. "Shit," Jake muttered. 

"Can we switch partners?" Bradley whined. He tried to walk to the other end of the table as he drank his beer, but his wife just pushed him right back to Jake. 

"It's not our fault we're exceptionally good at math," she said before returning to Jessica's side. 

"Come on, Jake!" his girlfriend cheered. "You can do it!"

But he missed again. It was almost comical how easily the ladies won, and they only had to drink one glass of beer toward the end of the match. Bradshaw's wife danced around while she drank it, and then Jessica made the final shot. 

"I taught her everything she knows!" Bradley shouted as he made his way back to their end. "My wife is a badass."

Jessica was laughing as she ran around the table toward Jake. "You're terrible. Do you need lessons?" she asked sweetly. 

"Lessons from you?" he asked, kissing her hard. "Sign me up." But then his gaze caught on the one person he knew could ruin her night and would absolutely love to do it. 

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

When Jake started easing himself away from her and rubbing his hand along her back, Jessica looked up at him. "I'll gladly teach you how to suck less at beer pong. Actually... I wonder if I could turn it into a physics lecture topic," she mused. 

"Baby, he's here."

Jessica spun around so fast, she had to fix her glasses as she set eyes on an irate looking Brian Conley. "We need to talk," he told her with his hands on his hips like she was a small child.

"About what?" she bit back, already feeling her body tensing up as Jake, Bradley and his wife stood at her back. 

Brian was looking around the room in annoyance at the handful of alumni guests still playing beer pong and hanging out. The string quartet sounded louder now as the house had emptied out a bit, and the song was suddenly grating on her nerves. 

"Meet me in the kitchen," Brian growled, storming off toward the back of the house. 

Jake's hand was on hers immediately. "You don't have to talk to him right now, Jessica. Tell him to schedule a meeting for next week."

But she shook her head. "I'll be right back." 

She passed Dev in the hallway, and he looked handsome and happy as always. "I need to get going, but cheers to a successful fundraiser. Call me if you want to come up to Beta. You can even bring your boyfriend. I guess." His smile was bright, but she had to force one in return. 

"Thanks for everything, Dev." And as soon as she was alone in the kitchen with Brian, her smile vanished. "What can I help you with?" she asked him, swiping her sweaty palms on her pretty green dress.

He shook his head at her like she was something to be pitied. "You know... I spent all evening working through the numbers, trying to come up with a total amount of money raised through the science department for alumni weekend. And while your numbers seemed to look pretty good, you didn't account for the astronomical amount you wasted on kegs of this designer beer. And when I show up here to question you about it, you're practically drunk and playing the games you set up for paying guests."

Jessica's jaw dropped. "I'm not drunk! I haven't had anything to drink all night!" Brian rolled his eyes. "And I played one round of beer pong with my friends. If you hadn't noticed the event is ending now. It's nearly midnight."

Brian laughed. "You think someone from the math department is your friend? Jessica. You're delusional."

"Call me Dr. Reed," she ground out, fists clenched at her sides as tears stung her eyes. "And I'm not delusional."

Brian rolled his eyes. "Everyone in the science and math departments believes you're nothing but a slut, and I can guarantee your friend falls into that category." She started shaking as he added, "Now tell me how much you spent on the beer so I can deduct it from the profits of your event."

"I didn't spend anything!" she nearly screamed, frustrated beyond belief and tired of being belittled. "It was donated!"

Brian's laughter filled the space, bouncing off of the stainless steel appliances and tiled floor. "Donated? By whom?"

"The owner of the brewery!" she nearly screamed. "He donated things for the silent auction, too."

His gaze bore into her face as a look of disgust filled his features. "Jesus Christ, Dr. Reed. You got thousands of dollars worth of goods donated to you by the brewery owner? How many men are you sleeping with?"

Jessica's face fell further, and she had a hard time swallowing. "I'm not," she whispered, fingers going numb as her fists shook. "I didn't."

"You're so unprofessional. And you expect me to give you tenure? On what basis? You can't even get through an alumni event without fucking up and making yourself look bad."

"On the basis that I'm great at my job!" she shouted. But her voice shook on the last word, and she was mortified that she was about to cry in front of him. There was no hope. The tears were right there. And as her jaw quivered, she felt the first tear roll down her cheek.

"You're a damn joke," he replied maliciously, but then she felt a warm hand on her back between her shoulder blades. 

"What the fuck is your problem, asshole?" Jessica turned to her right to see Advanced Calculus in the kitchen, steadying her with her firm hand. "You think you're so slick, but you're not smarter than us. Where's your PhD from again? The University of Jackass online?"

"This has nothing to do with you," Brian told her, face stony. "Now if you don't mind, we're having a private conversation."

The other woman laughed. "It's no longer private when I can hear you berating Dr. Reed in the next room."

Brian seemed to fumble for a response as he said, "This is none of your business."

Jessica was shaking as Advanced Calculus said, "Actually, you made it everybody's business by telling lies and starting rumors, Dr. Conley. This is a university, not a sleepaway camp."

Brian took a step closer to her and hissed, "Do not think for one second that I can't fuck with your career path, too."

But she just smiled and inched even closer as she loudly said, "You're not in charge of my tenure."

Then Bradley was in the kitchen, too. His wife wrapped her arm around Jessica's shoulders as Bradley went chest to chest with Brian, towering over him. "Why the fuck are you talking to my wife that way? Huh?"

Brian sputtered for a response, but Jessica could barely breathe. It felt good to have people in her corner for once, but now she was terrified that Bradley was going to punch Brian. 

"I asked you a question," Bradley growled before he turned to his wife. "What's this guy's problem, Sugar?"

Jessica would have laughed if she wasn't already crying when her friend said, "I think he got his PhD online."

And then Jake was there, head on a swivel as he surveyed the situation and saw a few more stray tears slip down Jessica's cheeks. "What the fuck is going on?" he demanded.

Bradley's wife laughed sardonically. "Jake, have you met Brian? He thinks it's okay to spread rumors and insult women who are smarter than him, and then he holds it over their heads."

Jessica watched Brian's face turn a pasty shade of white as Jake took him by the shirt collar and shoved him against the refrigerator. "No. Please don't hit him," Jessica begged as she cried. "He's not worth it, Jake."

But her boyfriend looked a little deranged right now, and she could see the malice in Brian's eyes. 

"I've had just about enough of you giving my girl a hard time. It's like you're begging for this." Jake shoved him a little harder, and Jessica had to look away. 

"Oh, shit," Bradshaw and his wife said in unison, and she was too afraid to look. 

Jessica felt the other woman's arms wrap around her as she called out, "Jake, look at Jessica! She's upset."

When Jessica peeked through her tears, she saw Bradley bear hugging Jake's arms to his side as he fought to get to Brian. But when Jake turned to look at her, his features softened, and now it looked like he was fighting against Bradley to come her way. 

Brian pushed away from the refrigerator and stormed out of the room, but not before he said, "We're not finished," as he pointed in Jessica's face.

Bradley released Jake, and Jessica was a little afraid he was going to go after Brian, but he didn't. She was wrapped up in his arms with his lips on her forehead as he whispered, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry if I made you cry more."

Jessica shook in his arms, terrified that her career was now over. Shaken once again by how hard Brian was trying to ruin her. Jake's kisses and soft words did little to soothe her as she closed her eyes and sobbed.

"Take her home," Bradley said, his voice soft but commanding. "We'll get everything cleaned up here."

Jessica tried to argue, but Jake scooped her up easily in his arms, and she didn't fight him. She closed her eyes, forcing air into and out of her lungs, and a moment later she was sitting in his truck.

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

Jake started the engine, but before he shifted into drive, he leaned across the seat and brushed Jessica's hair away from her face. "I'll take you back to your place?" he asked softly. More than anything, he really wanted to drop her off and then go pound the shit out of Brian, but when she nodded and reached for his hand, he put the truck in gear.

She remained silent as she held his hand, only occasionally swiping at her tears and looking out the window. If he knew she wanted to confide in him, Jake would sit and wait with her for as long as it took her to get the words out. But he didn't want to push or ask the wrong things. He knew she could have a bit of a hard time opening up. 

He parked his truck, and scooped her up, careful not to mess up the fabric of her pretty dress. As he carried her into her apartment, he realized just how exhausted she must be. Her arms were around his neck, but she just sniffed and buried her face in his neck, trusting that he would get her inside to safety.

When Jake set her on her bed, he reached for the lamp on the nightstand. She looked wrung out even in the soft lighting, and he reached for her shoes. As he turned to take them into her closet, Jessica crawled up to her pillows with her dress still on, so he only took the time to remove his own shoes and his jacket before climbing in with her. 

Once he had his arms wrapped around her, she let her cheek rest on his chest. Her breathing evened out, and she seemed calmer. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly, holding her close. 

She shrugged, and when she spoke, she sounded faint and almost broken. "There's not a lot to say. Brian is trying to ruin my career."

This was not the first time Jake wondered how someone could dislike Jessica. His mind was swirling with the possibility that he was holding a grudge after she broke up with him. He'd been thinking that for weeks. As he pressed a kiss to her hair, he asked, "Why, Baby? How is that possible?"

Jessica's body tensed up in his arms before she took a few shaky breaths and eased her cheek away from his chest. She was crying again as she looked him in the eye and whispered, "He and I were dating. And then we were sleeping together. For weeks. And I had no idea that he's married and has two kids."

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

Brian Conley is a dank ass bitch. We hate him. If Jake doesn't respond just right, I'll have to kill him. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 14

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[thus-wrote-mrs-zeppeli]

Hello! I have a request. Can I have some head canons about how La Squadra would react if you were disrespected by someone? Let’s say their s/o (preferably female) works at a cafe or restaurant and a rude customer throws the money at her, completely expecting her to pick up the bill from the floor (yes, that is a real experience I’ve had, unfortunately).

How would they react? What would they do afterwards or say?

Would really, REALLY appreciate it. Honestly, I wish someone had stood up for me back then.

Author’s note: Hey hey~

Thanks for the request~

Sorry no one stood up for you, what happened to human decency?

And I can totally relate, the entitlement of people is insane. Two days in to my very first job as a cashier I had a customer say some really atrociously awful things to me and I just took it because I didn’t know what else to do and afterwards my managers told me I should’ve called them wow. Like my manager literally wouldn’t repeat what the customer had said because it was so abhorrently inappropriate and disgusting.

So yeah. Respect employees, we’re all human beings here it’s literally so easy to Not be insanely rude.

Interestingly enough I actually had some thoughts on this written in my personal La Squadra notes, particularly in regard to Prosciutto since he gives me lots of thoughts about stuff similar to that, cool that I get to address that heh.

-La Squadra x female reader: When someone disrespects you

Content, PLZ READ: female reader who works as a waitress, discussion of unhealthy and toxic masculinity paired with sexism (Prosciutto), La Squadra is a group of (mostly) pretty aggressive men who act on that feeling so. Some canon compliant aggression, threats, violence and blood. They’re a group of assassins so Lots of Bad men doing bad things. Melone’s slightly perverse tendencies

Various scenarios involving rude customers, including the example in the ask.

Established relationship: dating/married depending on the character

Ok while writing this it’s finally really hitting me how bizarre it’d be to be a non stand user witnessing or experiencing a stand attack-

Reader is aware of stands and that her La Squadra man is a member of the Mafia

And attempts at Italian hopefully it’s correct but if not please lemme know!

Micro fics style

-Formaggio: Out of all the members of La Squadra he’s noticeably much more chill and relaxed than the others. But he’s still a proud member of the Italian Mafia. And you’re his girl. He’s no knight in shining armor or Prince Charming for you, he won’t intervene when there’s an occasional irritable customer giving you a bit of a hard time. He knows you can take care of yourself.

However, if some entitled customer has the audacity to go too far and say or do something Really disrespectful while he’s around, I think he has a preference for good old-fashioned humiliation, and only results to intimidation if they decide they wanna keep making a fool of themselves.

He plays it up like: “ooh, hey, if you wanted that pretty lady’s attention there are much better ways to get it, buddy.”

You don’t have to add anything. You resume work quietly, but keep your eyes and ears focused on him, in case he decided to get carried away.

After a little bit of back and forth with him using his usual coolness and charisma, the offender gets increasingly frustrated and flustered.

When your boyfriend’s finally had enough of this stupid game he stands up from his table. His playfully mocking expression remains, but his smirk shifts ever so slightly into something more sinister. “If you want we could just take this outside,” he says it so casually, with the tone of a man who wasn’t going to hold back if it actually did escalate into a fight. He was not bluffing at all either.

At full height and with the clear confidence that he was absolutely gonna win the fight, the rude customer wisely decides Formaggio was Not someone he wanted to mess with and awkwardly leaves the restaurant, Formaggio loudly exclaiming taunts as the guy skittered away with his tail between his legs.

He seems awfully pleased with himself after “defending your honor” like that. You let him enjoy that feeling, because honestly that was pretty well done and it didn’t get too ugly. He has some nerve expecting a bunch of praise from you for that though.

-Illuso: Someone saying or doing something rude to you is like insulting him as well. And his stand is uniquely qualified for an entertaining punishment against some arrogant idiot giving you a difficult time.

Illuso doesn’t say anything, but when you look over at him while some jerk is screaming his head off at you like it’s your fault his food took five minutes longer than usual to arrive, you see that he’s pretending to fix up his appearance in a fancy compact mirror you had gifted him on your one year anniversary.

You can tell immediately he’s actually angling it at the guy screaming at you so he can activate Man in the Mirror. You inwardly groan because honestly you welcome your husband’s interference, but it will be difficult to explain a man magically disappearing in the middle of a restaurant, especially while he’s causing such a scene with that excessive screeching.

All of a sudden…silence. Such a sudden silence that the sound of Illuso clasping his mirror shut is audible to you from where you’re standing. Of course all the customers were looking at that guy who was freaking out at you. And he literally vanished before their eyes. So you do the only thing you can think of and spread your arms in an exaggerated manner and go: “Ta-DAAAH~” like the supernatural disappearance was just a magic trick.

In a rather weak attempt to sell it, Illuso starts slowly clapping for you and commenting: “molto bene~”. You can’t muster an annoyed glare at him; the slight smile tugging at your lips gave you away. A few customers join him in clapping, a bit confused, but honesty just glad that the yelling has stopped.

Illuso’s version of torment is to leave the guy completely alone in the mirror world. Confusion combined with isolation is a cruel combination, and given his captor was Illuso who was absolutely bound to prolong the punishment because of his sadistic tendencies, you almost feel sorry for the guy.

“Make sure you let him go by this evening,” you remind him before you get back to work.

“Let who go, dearie?” he says, his acting pathetically bad.

Sigh. So he was going to play it that way…

“I’m serious,” you grumble.

“Me too.”

You meet his eyes at that remark, and his smug smirk tells you he wants to see if you’ll keep nagging him about it.

When you don’t indulge him he’ll get bored and let the guy go. Hopefully that brat learned a lesson. And if not, at least he has a story literally no one will believe.

-Prosciutto: Despite not being a very nice man to you, he’s got that ridiculous belief that only he’s allowed to be harsh to you. It’s “tough love” when he’s hyper critical of you or snaps at you for something small, but if anyone else does it to an excessive degree then it’s apparently unacceptable, rude behavior. Really it’s just his pride as a man and unhealthy view of masculinity that causes him to freak out when you’re disrespected. He’s your fiancé…By his logic, you need him to protect you, and it’s his job as a man to do so.

He’s a big hypocrite.

But at least he stands up for you.

You could usually feel Prosciutto watching when a customer started to get a little ornery with you. He wouldn’t always step in, unless something he deemed entirely disrespectful was said or done; he does think dealing with irritable people is okay for you until they get carried away.

It looked like he wasn’t going to intervene this time over the dirtbag being extraordinarily picky and fussy with you, just because he liked bossing essential workers around apparently. Prosciutto was listening, as usual, but didn’t seem too concerned, drinking his coffee disinterestedly. Until the customer decided to toss a crumpled up napkin at you when you turned around.

Ohhh boy, you didn’t even have to LOOK to know the coffee mug getting slammed down on a table was Prosciutto.

You debate what you should do. He strides past you, and you opt to just…hold still and listen for a moment. Pretend you don’t know him, and let him do whatever it is he’s about to do (though you have a pretty good guess what it is).

Despite all the tough talk he was doing before, that customer couldn’t hide the slight panic in his voice at Proscuitto’s sudden approach.

Unlike a lot of Passione members who preferred to hide their affiliation to the mafia, Prosciutto wasn’t nearly as subtle with that tailored suit, open shirt and the demeanor of a man who’s killed before and will kill again.

“Hey who the hell do you think you are?! Stay away from m-” the jerk’s nervous ranting is cut off by Prosciutto dragging him to his feet by the collar of his shirt.

“You dropped something,” Prosciutto says in that certain tone you’ve grown all too familiar with. He uses it often when he’s pissed off or teaching a lesson or both at the same time.

Before the man can even squeak out the beginnings of some sort of excuse or counter he’s gagging, and you turn around to stop Prosciutto from straight up choking the guy by shoving the same napkin he tossed at you down his throat, speaking about how disgustingly disrespectful it was to throw anything at a woman.

“Hey, I think he gets it,” you cut in.

You wonder if he’s actually gonna listen to you this time. For a moment it seems like he might ignore you and continue the lesson. But he decides you may have a point and that he’s not worth the trouble. Though it doesn’t stop him from roughly shoving the guy to the ground when he lets go of his shirt.

“Make sure you add an apology when you pay the check,” he says to the sniveling man on the floor desperately telling himself not to make a run for it like a coward now that Prosciutto’s back was turned.

You don’t know whether to smile or roll your eyes, knowing all your fiancé meant was that he better leave you a generous tip as compensation for such disrespectful behavior.

“Go smoke outside,” is all you say to him when you see Prosciutto reach for the pack of cigarettes in his jacket. He smoked when he was especially irritated; so he went through a lot of cigarettes. He waves his hand dismissively at you, but obeys and goes outside. Though he stays close to the entrance. He’s making it clear he’s not leaving til you’re getting paid well for all that trouble.

The guy ended up practically handing his wallet to you.

Prosciutto internally checks off his: do one good thing for his fiancée today mission.

-Pesci: He’s not the most confrontational of La Squadra, and there’s no love lost between the murderous members of the team beyond a mild respect for each other’s strength (and that’s only sometimes) but he’s more than familiar with how most of the other assassins handle disrespect or things they don’t like in public with violence and aggression (hard glares at Ghiaccio and Prosciutto in particular). And that usually results in them getting asked to leave the premises, how embarrassing-

He doesn’t want to embarrass you either when a particularly volatile customer started screaming at you and freaking out for no valid reason. But he can’t just sit there and let you take that kind of abuse either.

He tries to excuse you from the situation by calling you over to his table like he was a customer and it was something urgent. And well…it might just escalate the irritation of that insufferable jerk screaming at you but…

You go to Pesci anyways, opting to just ignore the jerk, pretending to be busy dealing with some made up issue Pesci was improvising.

To your surprise it actually kinda worked. The guy was steaming for a bit and yelling at you from his table but. You just ignored him. And if anything actually happened Pesci was 100% capable of handling it if he had to. He didn’t usually try to start fights, but if pushed he could absolutely finish them.

“Do you usually get customers like that?” Pesci asks with genuine concern in his voice once the guy finally gets mad enough to leave (without paying but that was a problem for later).

“Well…” more often than someone who doesn’t work in food service would think…

“Sometimes,” you admit vaguely, not wanting to worry him but not wanting to lie either.

He thinks you should find some different job, not that he’s actually in a position to suggest that given he’s literally a La Squadra assassin. And you’ve heard from the few times you’ve met with his coworkers that the money they make in the business of murder is minuscule all things considered. Honestly he should get a new job too. One that didn’t rely on the occasional commission and splitting a check with eight other people.

You both know it’s not that easy to just Find a new job. And he doesn’t think it’s a great idea to suggest you get more involved in Passione for quick but dirty money…sigh…no easy solution…

-Melone: Your boyfriend was the least confrontational man in La Squadra.

Usually you encourage him to not visit you at work…because he always stares at you in such a manner that your coworkers or customers sometimes warn you about a creep in the corner booth who’s been watching you for a while.

As someone who’s used to being yelled at (though only because he’s the one being a FREAK so it doesn’t Really count) he’s sure you can handle the occasional ornery customer who decided to raise their voice at you. He usually intervened only if you directly requested it, because more often than not you got annoyed at him for worming his way into your other problems. Doesn’t mean he doesn’t notice when he’s typing on his laptop at the restaurant you work at and someone starts destructively causing a scene all because you brought them the wrong brand of soda by accident. It’s been a long day, you’re tired, you’re working the evening shift and the restaurant’s about to close. So you don’t bother to try and appease this guy, you know he’ll just complain and give you a hard time no matter what you do. And he apparently took your: “I’m sorry, let me grab you the right one,” as disingenuous and insulting, because you didn’t call him “Sir”. You really don’t feel like dealing with this, and you’re about to just let it go until he has the audacity to knock the soda off the table and onto the floor, staining the floor and even getting soda all over your shoes.

God…just to humiliate you over something small-you find yourself quietly staring at the floor for a moment, trying to register what you should even do…bend over right now to try to salvage your shoes before the soda dried? You had napkins in your pocket. But then the damn customer won…

And you know Melone was watching everything. He’s so invested that he’s stopped typing.

Melone’s no gentleman, and has no shame, but he can’t just let someone get away completely with disrespecting his girlfriend…especially given he had bought those cute shoes for you!

You can only mumble Melone’s name quietly when he approaches the situation, his demeanor energized despite how late it was. You weren’t gonna deny him stepping in but saying his name was a warning not to be too weird.

He clicks his tongue, making a point to not even look at the jerky customer, like he wasn’t there, and focuses all his attention on you.

“You know those shoes weren’t cheap, tesoro mio,” he chides playfully, immediately plucking off some napkins from the customer’s table and kneeling in front of you so he can wipe your shoes clean himself.

You bite your lip. It might seem gentlemanly to onlookers, but you knew he was also using the opportunity to get close to your legs in public. But he manages to behave himself, even putting a few napkins over the spill on the floor once he’s done with your shoes.

When he finally stands back up, he makes a point of leaning very close with an especially devious look on his face.

“What a shame,” he says in a strangely exaggerated tone. “I think I’ll have to buy you a new pair of shoes…”

You just give him a confused look after reminding him you’re on the clock when he leans in for a kiss.

Then he wanders off. But at least he distracted the customer enough to dampen the worst of the disrespectful behavior.

You finish your shift. Melone was waiting for you outside with his motorcycle, as he’s your ride back to your shared apartment.

He looks especially pleased with himself.

“What’d you do this time?” you sigh and yawn, too tired to feel especially concerned with whatever he might’ve done.

“Your next pair of shoes is going to be Especially nice…I’ll even get you a pretty dress to go with them~” he licks his lips.

Under the dim light of the street lamp, you finally notice the wallet that he’s holding up. It isn’t his.

His little kneeling act by the table with the rude customer apparently had many purposes…your boyfriend really was quite a sly opportunist…

“Melone…” you were gonna chide him gently for taking the guy’s Entire wallet but…it was too late to start arguing with him, given he was your ride home. And you didn’t care too much about it in the first place, especially right now.

-Ghiaccio: Everything ticks him off so when you’re working you don’t mind if he doesn’t bother to stop by and say hi even when he’s in the area. He tends to get worked up about something minuscule even during quick visits. And your restaurant is quite popular with tourists, who he has a borderline obsessive type of hatred for. Yeah. You were okay with him NOT visiting you while you were working because inevitably one day he was gonna cause quite a scene-

You feel a very ironic cold shiver down your spine when you catch sight of a familiar red Mazda Miata going way too fast in the parking lot looking for a space to park.

“Dios mio…I don’t need this today…” you mumble to yourself, not realizing a particularly entitled customer was watching you act distracted for a moment by looking at a car from the window.

When you get to his table, you don’t really know what he’s yapping about when he says waitresses these days are SO ditzy and aren’t properly trained. You’re not listening too hard because you’re watching Ghiaccio walk past the window on his way into the restaurant. He gives you an acknowledging glance when he spots you, and it pisses off the customer even more because now he’s complaining about how completely unprofessional it was that you invited your boyfriend into the restaurant while you were working. You have no idea where this guy is even getting all these assumptions, or what was even so terribly wrong with the scenario he’s making up, so you don’t pay it much attention and just brush it off as the customer’s eccentric personality trait.

Until he says that if you were going to be disrespectful by inviting your boyfriend to work, you might as well look busy.

What a freaking idiot, waiting for Ghiaccio to walk in to the restaurant before literally throwing the money for his meal at you, completely expecting you to pick up all the bills.

Ghiaccio doesn’t even need to know the context to react (though it’s probably for the best he didn’t hear what started it because it’d just piss him off even more).

“Hey, hey, hey…” Ghiaccio’s voice from the entrance can be heard from half way inside the restaurant. “If you meant to give the money to her, it’d be MUCH more efficient for both of you if you just HANDED it to her, you freaking moron-“

Oh God, here we go…Ghiaccio wasn’t screaming quite at full volume as he speed walked to where you were standing, his hands twitching slightly, either oblivious or simply ignoring all the customers exchanging nervous glances as they watched him. He has to be literally the WORST AND the EASIEST member of his entire team to piss off…and when he got like this he sometimes didn’t even listen to you.

The customer glares at him, and dares to open his mouth to respond, but Ghiaccio’s rant wasn’t over and it just pisses him off even more to see the guy had the audacity to try and interrupt him.

“Ghia, hey-”

Yeah he was definitely not gonna listen to your attempt to calm him down. You wonder if he even heard you because he grabbed the guy by the back of the head while you were talking.

“IT DOESN’T MAKE ANY DAMN SENSE WHEN I THINK ABOUT IT! I MEAN, WHAT THE HELL IS THE POINT OF THROWING MONEY ALL OVER THE GROUND?! YOU JUST GET OFF WATCHING HER WASTE A BUNCH OF TIME PICKING THAT ALL UP?!”

Was he…more pissed about the illogical nature of the behavior or the fact that you were being disrespected…?…It’s kinda hard to tell…this ornery yapper on even more ornery yapper violence was Quite a scene this early in the morning…

“DON’T YOU HAVE A LIFE, IDIOT? OR DID YOU GO OUT JUST TO KILL TIME BY POINTLESSLY INCONVENIENCING A WAITRESS?! YOU MIGHT NOT HAVE ANYTHING BETTER TO DO WITH YOUR LIFE BUT SHE’S GOT AN ACTUAL JOB TO DO AND DOESN’T HAVE TIME TO PLAY 52 CARD PICKUP WITH ENTITLED JERKS LIKE YOU!”

It doesn’t even cross your mind that most people would be mortified to watch their boyfriend completely lose it like this in public, you’re so used to it at this point; you’re thinking about how it’s a bit hypocritical of him given how you’ve witnessed him Also going off on a poor server for nothing.

“GHIACCIO!” you finally make yourself shout, reaching out and grabbing the wrist of the arm he was using to hold the panicking rude customer by the back of the head.

You know Ghiaccio. He was about to slam that man’s head on the table.

“WHAT?!” he snaps, but when he whips his head, you can tell the raging blizzard of his soul wavered just a bit when he looked at you.

“Don’t…you’ll break the table, they’re flimsy…”

His physical strength always astounded you, given he wasn’t particularly large, and he wasn’t even resisting your hand on his wrist but you could still feel the power in his arm. “You already made your point…” you whisper, worried about getting in trouble for the scene he was causing.

“BUT-“

“Thank you, it’s okay…”

He REALLY has to debate it, but reluctantly releases the man with an irritated huff and an audible growl. Such a lucky guy…you were one of the few people who could get Ghiaccio to think before taking something too far.

“Is your shift almost over?” he asks, clearly still incredibly irritated, tapping his foot rapidly against the ground.

“About fifteen minutes to go.” You glance at the trembling rude customer, gazing wide eyed and flinching every time Ghiaccio moved in any way.

He checks his watch and the customer climbs further into the booth out of fear of the simple gesture, but Ghiaccio is forcing himself not to pay him any mind.

“I’ll wait for you in the car then.”

“Alright.”

As long as he left the restaurant…

Now everyone knew he was definitely with you in some capacity…damn.

He sends a pointed glare to a couple of the customers on the way out. A “gentle reminder” to keep manners in mind.

And when you give the rude customer one last look, you see he’s on the ground picking up the money he had tossed at you.

He’s trembling a bit. Probably from fear of Ghiaccio changing his mind and coming back to actually break his face. But he’s probably a bit cold too, just from coming into physical contact with Ghiaccio could leave anyone with a chill if he partly activated his stand while touching someone.

You really needed to have a chat with him about his temper but as the previously inconsiderate customer blubbers out apologies and begs you to protect him from your scary boyfriend while shoving the money (and a generous tip) directly into your hands you hesitantly decide today is not the day.

-Risotto Nero: He doesn’t go out in public often, but minus the whole “leader of an assassination division in the mafia with a truly frightening appearance” he’s a pretty normal guy. Keeps to himself and stoic, but he can hold a conversation. You’re fine with him not visiting you at work often, you get that he’s super busy, but when he does stop by you’re glad to see him (and he doesn’t cause any scenes. Bonus points for Risotto).

It was a slow morning for you, and he had finished an early morning mission earlier than he had expected. He even checked to make sure the diner you worked at wasn’t busy before he decided to stop in and see you.

Your face lights up when you see him, running over to him and giving him a quick hug, and bringing him a small cup of coffee on the house, allowing yourself a brief moment of respite to speak with your boyfriend. It wasn’t busy yet…there were only two other customers, but it was just your luck that one of them woke up on the wrong side of the bed and decided to come over and give you a hard time for taking a moment to spend with Risotto.

“Does your boss pay you to flirt with customers?”

You can’t even believe someone really came over just to say that to you. You weren’t even sitting down to talk to Risotto, and it’s not like you were being loud or obnoxious or anything.

“She’s doing her job,” Risotto points out with that signature stoic nature. The guy seems slightly put off by Risotto’s unique appearance, but was apparently in a bad enough mood to not back down so easily.

“If she was doing her job she’d be bringing me a refill and not wasting her time chatting with a guy she already served,” he points out indignantly. What an insane level of entitlement…Risotto seemed to think the same thing, though he wasn’t a fan of escalating things.

But this guy…he had some audacity talking to you like that.

Risotto puts his hands on the table, and stands up slowly, deliberately, to his full height, tilting his head slightly to better look the smaller man in the eyes.

“She’s just being polite,” Risotto corrects the man. His voice is still calm, but his speaking speed is Slightly slower. Paired with him purposefully emphasizing his full height, the warning that he wasn’t going to stay civil for much longer was clear.

The unwanted visitor inwardly debates for a moment, visibly shaken from Risotto’s intimidation but absolutely too embarrassed to just back off now.

He foolishly decides to keep going.

“She-” he’s cut off by an almost explosive gush of blood coming out of his own nose. You gasp at the suddenness, but instantly realize what’s happening. He slams his hand over his nose, the blood not stopping that easily, almost immediately leaking through his fingers.

“Oh…” Risotto remarks with obviously fake concern, leaning in as if he were examining the “mysterious” nosebleed. “You’d better take care of that before you get blood all over the place…” he states the obvious with complete unconcern.

It was admittedly a bit funny to watch that jerk sprint to the restroom clutching his bloody nose.

There is a minuscule tug to the edges of Risotto’s lips.

“Risotto! Sudden unexplainable nosebleeds aren’t funny at all,” you chide, despite not feeling an ounce of pity. It’s not like Risotto was trying to kill that guy, if he was he would be bleeding out on the ground right now. The goal was just to embarrass him a bit, and he definitely succeeded.

“I think that was just a suitable divine punishment,” Risotto replies with a shrug, as if his stand, Metallica, had nothing to do with it. It’s subtle but…you can tell he’s irritated someone really had that kind of nerve to bother you for no reason. But you won’t let it ruin his whole day, reminding him that you got off work early today and you’ve been really excited to finally have some free time to spend with him.

Author’s closing note: I hope this could bring you some entertainment~it was enjoyable to write and consider how a few of them could use their stands to mess with people but wow I was being sent back to my first job on occasion with some of these customer characters, sheesh-

[aokoaoi]

Hey, I know you're writing more stories but if you have time could you write a oneshot? Y/n is mate of Ao'ung and eldest daughter of Jake and Neytiri and in the battle she dies instead of Neteyam taking the bullet instead of him, I know it is a bit angst but for me it's a good idea🥺

Thank you❤️

— pairings : ao'nung x fem!reader.

— warnings : avatar the way of water spoilers. angst. character death. mama neytiri suffers again<\3.

— author's note : this feels just like my first neteyam post all over again but different characters😭.. anyways this was so fun to write imao, i hope you like it<3

It was clear Ao'nung was your favorite amongst the Sully siblings. It wasn't said that he never picked on you, but he rarely did it. After all, you're the eldest siblings of the family, which meant your also older than him.

He respects you of course, more than he respects your younger brother, Neteyam.

It was then he grew some sort of admiration towards you, and the situation turned into a blossoming romance between you two. He has seen the way you act differently towards him as well, you were more soft spoken and casual, rather than stoic and fierce.

It was as if he met another version of you when he managed to befriend you. Since you were just a year older, you treat him as if he was some disobedient child when you get the chance. Whenever he's messing around, you'd be the one scolding him and such.

He'd never go against your words though. It would be like playing with fire.

The boy noticed how you acted more like your mother, you were fierce and responsible on the outside, but in the inside you were actually shy and a softie. Imagine his reaction when he saw you get flustered over his words for the first time.

He was in awe, I tell you.

Greatmother, he was so smitten for you. Absolutely head over heels It drove him insane. He even went to his sister once to help him with his feelings, and Tsireya was just as surprised as he was.

He was planning on telling you his feelings soon, but he felt that it wasn't the right time yet. But as he lost his chance, time had gone thin.

"Where are you going?!" Ao'nung harshly grabs your hand as you tried swimming away with your Ilu. Kiri had justed used some weird reef telekinesis earlier to save all your lives, but your mind was on the battlefield.

"To fight!"

Ao'nung sneered at you words, shaking his head. "You can't go out there! Didn't you see what they had as weapons!? You'll be killed!" He hisses, his grip on your forearm tightening.

"I'm fighting for my brothers and sisters, Ao'nung. I was born to fight! This isn't my first battle." You tell him, trying to jerk off his hold on your hand. He let's out a frustrated breath, brows furrowing.

He hesitantly soften his hold on your arm, and you neared him as he did so. Your hand comes up to his cheek, forcing him to look at you. "I'll be back, okay? I promise." You softly spoke.

He watched as you dived down into the water with your Ilu, eyes brimming with irritated tears. Rotxo comes from behind him, grasping his shoulders. "She'll be alright, mate. (name) is a strong girl."

You emerged from the water with a quick breath, ordering your Ilu to swim faster ad you neared the attack scene. There was so much going on, not to mention Lo'ak's tulkun literally slaughtering the people inside the small boats.

Your breath hitched as an Ikran drops from a rock beside you, aiming a spear at the animal until you saw the familiar patterns and colors of the creature. "Mother." You sighed. The woman shouts your name, hastily yelling at you to come on.

You did as you were told, biting your lip as your feet scrapped on the sharp edges of the rocks. Your mother immediately gets back to flight, barely missing the boat that was being thrown onto the rock.

Your fist tightly held your bow has you aimed on the unprotected sky-people, shooting your arrow at one. You grunted as you hear bullets being shot at your direction, and you turned to see the same Avatar from back home.

Neytiri recklessly dodged the shots, and you aimed a spear from the Metkayina clan at him. Your father then emerged from the water, shooting at the Avatar as your spear was sharply thrown at the demon-blooded's Ikran.

The Ikran falls down into the water with a pained hiss, along with the demon-blooded who bonded with it. You let out a yell at your actions, grinning from ear to ear as your mother does the same.

"Mother, fly by that boat!" You instructed your mother, pointing at the said transportation. She immediately does a sharp turn, hastily flying to the boat.

You dropped down at the thick metal right after your mother hands you your bow, surprising the three as you saw your brother already helping them. "Big sister!" Tuktirey let's out a cry, you simply smiled at her as you brought out the sharp knife from your waist-trainer.

"You okay there, bro?" You asked Lo'ak, watching as he rolls his eyes. "Who is the mighty warrior?" You hear Neteyam tease the boy, Lo'ak scoffs, but doesn't hide his obvious smile.

"Come on! Let's not waste time." You scolded the two as they laughed together, hitting the back of their heads as they let out a yelp. Neteyam grabs your hand as you two tried to jump from the boat, but you see Lo'ak at the corner of your eyes go the opposite way.

"Lo'ak!" You hiss. You ran towards him, tugging on Neteyam's hands as he looked at you, confused.

"They have spider, we have to get him." He tells you. You furrowed your brows together, unsure of what to do. He slowly stands back up, obviously serious of what he's saying. "Come on you two, we can't just leave him!" He complains.

Neteyam looks at you, and you groaned in annoyance. "Fine! Skxawng." You sneered, grabbing your bow harshly that it could practically break. Lo'ak grins at your agreement, and you you followed after him into the boat.

You carefully leaded the way as you now had an eye on where spider was. You aimed your bow at a man, shooting immediately when you had a clear path on his head. The sky-people watching spider let's out a yell, and immediately your brothers dropped down, attacking them.

You hung your bow on your back, grabbing the arrow your used to shoot the man in the head as you sharply drew in through the nearest sky people beside you before they could shoot at your brothers.

You grabbed another one by the neck, standing up straight and pulling him up with all your strength, basing his head onto the metal railings on top of you as you head the breaking of glass from his mask.

Grabbing your knife from your waist-trainer, you spot another human struggling to reach his gun. You pushed Lo'ak away as you used your strength and threw the knife at him, watching as the blade jabbed his chest. Lo'ak looks at you, surprised.

You breathed heavily, scowling as you watched a grin form on his face. "You should teach me that move sometime."

"First, we got out of here. M'kay?" You sneered passively. You grabbed his forearm as you dragged him with you, following Neteyam as he heads the way.

You hopped down from the short staircase, watching as Spider does the same. "Thanks guys." The human says. You waved your hand at him dismissively, your eyes scanning the area. Lo'ak spots another demon blood, and raises his gun.

"No!" You yelled. You let out a hiss as you feel a bullet shoot through your hand, making you instantly grab Lo'ak and drag him to the nearest corner to take cover. Neteyam followed right after, watching the bullets hit the metal railings.

"Give me that!" Neteyam grabs the gun from Lo'ak, reloading it as he pulls the trigger, carelessly shooting everywhere. "Go jump in the water!" You told the two boys. They looked at you hesitantly, and you sneered. "Goddamn it, hurry!" You growled.

They instantly jumped down, and your hastily grabbed the gun from Neteyam. "Let's go!" You yelled. He goes after Lo'ak, jumping in. You let out nervous breaths, your ear twitching as you hear the footsteps nearing your direction.

You took big steps forward, running towards the water and diving in. A stinging pain swelled up in your chest, but before you could let out a pained yell, you dropped into the water.

Hurriedly swimming back into the surface, you watched as your brothers celebrate their escape. Tsireya arrives with her Ilu, instructing you four to get on. Neteyam glanced at you as he notices you struggling to swim, his smile dropping.

"(name)—?"

His eyes then lingered at the blood seeping the water near you, and his heart dropped at the sight. "Shit!, (name)–" He jumped from the Ilu, swimming towards you as you struggled to keep your head above water.

"Oh no." Tsireya gasps, gaze on the bloodied water.

"Hold her up!" Neteyam hisses at spider as he placed your body on top of the girls ilu. You growled and slapped Spider's hand away, but then choked when your hand pressed against your chest.

"It's okay, sister. I've got you, okay? D-dont close your eyes." Lo'ak says, stuttering over his words. "S—skxawng. Why would I do that." You hissed harshly, your voice wavering as you struggled to breathe for air.

"Let's go!"

"But— they have Kiri and Tuk." Tsireya speaks up. Your ear twitched at her sentence, you kept a hand on your chest as Neteyam does the same, his hand over yours while he applied pressure.

"Just breathe, sister." Neteyam softly said, his voice wobbling.

Your brother leads the Ilu towards a rock, spotting your father. "Dad! Dad, help!" Lo'ak shouts. They carefully carried your body as they placed you on the rock, careful not to hit your head. Tsireya sobbed at the sight of your bloodied torso, shutting her eyes.

"Father—" You spoke up, your blurring eyes seeing the figure of your father next to you.

"Shhh," he turns your body over, seeing that the bullet had completely went though your chest. He mutters a cuss as you wheezed for air, coughing and choking as your lungs tightened up from the struggling.

He gestured over Neteyam, grabbing his hands as he instructed the boy to put pressure on your chest. Your brother does as he was told, and you yelled at the feeling of the pressure.

You sobbed at the aching sensations swirling through your chest, eyes blinking the tears collecting in your eyes as it refused to fall from your cheeks. Your mother the arrives after hearing your yell from a small distance, eyes widening at the sight of your blood on your brothers hands.

"No! No, no, (name), don't do this." She let's out a cry, kneeling down beside you. "My sweet girl.." neytiri sobs at your cries, your chest heaving as the pressure Neteyam was putting on your chest only made the feeling worst.

"Ma—"

Neytiri sharply inhales at your call, her big hands grasping your own as she let's the sensation of your hands caress her cheek, "Yes, ma child? Speak to me."

"I'm sorry." She shakes her head at your words, breaking down. "I'm so sorry, mother— I let you down." You heaved for air desperately, watching as your mother sobs harshly.

"No, child. It's gonna be okay, I'm here for you. We're all here—"

"(name)?" Tsireya turned at the sound of her brother's voice. She let's out a tight exhale as she stood up, walking towards her brother as she immediately engulfed him into an embrace.

Ao'nung walks away from his sisters embrace, walking towards you. He kneels beside you, eyes scanning your face as he watches the trails of previous tears make wet patterns on your face. "Ao'nung." You coughed up.

"Shit, just breathe, okay? You're gonna be fine— you're fine," Ao'nung continued to convince himself that as he placed a hand on top of Neteyams hand when he saw the bloodied wound. You shake your head with a tired sigh, blinking repeatedly as it was already hard to keep your eyes open.

You smiled at him before your last breath slipped from your mouth, your struggled breathing halting as your choking seized. Neteyam snapped his attention to your face, seeing how you've completely gone cold. Ao'nungs hand twitched as he feels your chest stop beating, blinking repeatedly.

Neytiri cries out in anguish, the palm of her hand touching your face as she cradled your head. "My child!" She exclaims, bringing your head up to her chest as you didn't move a muscle.

Ao'nung's breath trembled as his hand slipped from your skin, looking at the light from your eyes disappear, and it was replaced with a blank, empty gaze. "No."

Tsireya sobbed at his words, watching as he shakes his head repeatedly. "No, (name), you can't do this to me." His voice trembled as he hicced, sniffing harshly. "You promised!" He yells, his voice loud and clear despite your mother's cries.

Tsireye looks down as her brother leaned against her, his head on her shoulder as he sobbed on her shoulder. "She lied."

"Im sorry, brother." Tsireya sympathetically spoke up, wiping her tears as she wrapped her arms around her sobbing brother, feeling his shoulders shake from his trembling cries. "She promised me, Tsireya. She promised to come back." Ao'nung harshly breaths.

Your father looks at the two upon hearing Ao'nung's words, sighing as he embraced his wife was she continued to cry out for you, begging for Eywa to bring you back.

"I didn't get to tell her." Tsireya hushed her brother, cradling him against her as she took in his sobs.

[silvvermst]

GOD, I LOVE NERDS

SYNOPSIS :: Warren got his new glasses since he spent too much time on his computer, but it only made him more attractive on your end.

NOTE :: I need him with glasses, I'm on a brainrot

TYPE :: fluff

Warren has been acting strange, and not the way you were used to his weirdness. Goodness, you’ve been dating for almost a year. But this past few days he has been insisting going on “online dates”. For example, you guys are on facetime from day to night but you’re the only one who has their camera on and no matter how much you insist him to show his face on the camera, he just wouldn’t and creates a different topic to shift your attention.

This weirdness was putting you off, surely, and you’re sure he doesn’t have it in him to cheat. Now that is unbelievable. Warren. The guy who has been literally worshipping the ground you walk on ever since you were children to the guy who became your first boyfriend and promised himself to you. It was suspicious, but you couldn't help but doubt his faithfulness. Therefore, you took it upon yourself to find out what’s actually happening these days.

It has been a minute since you’ve knocked on his door and your patience is on thin ice. “Warren Daniel Graham.”

“You, you should’ve told me you were coming.” You heard his voice tremble from the other side of the door. Desperation was laced in the tone of his voice clearly trying to hide something.

The thought of him having another girl over made you bite your lip, surely he won’t do that to you. He promised. “Warren, you’re making me worry.”

On instinct, Warren opened the door wide open. Maybe it was a small sob and crack you let out that he put your distress over his and opened the door for you. Although, his state as of now was what shocked you the most. His hair has always been messy but it looks like somebody pulled his hair harshly, while his eyes were red and tears stained his cheeks.

“Warren! What happened to you?” Your cause of worry earlier shifted to the state he was in. Rushing over to his side and drying his tears with your palms.

“It’s nothing, I swear!” He laughed it off and harshly rubbed his eyes only for him to groan as the stinging got much worse. “Haha… w, what brings you here, sweets?”

“Jesus, you think I’d buy that?! Tell me what happened to you!” Panic arises from you since the condition of his eyes has gotten much worse and his tears doesn't stop flowing.

“Okay, okay. I, I got some contacts.” He confessed, blinking his eyes trying to dust off the tears that were welling up in his tear ducts. “I feel like my eyes don’t like the contacts.” He laughed it off once more and scratched his neck.

“Oh my God! Remove it, then! You might get an infection.” He groans once more, by this time he needs your help to guide him around the house because his eyes get blurry from the tears. “Here, sit here.”

You gently helped him locate the couch and he plopped with a bounce, though you couldn’t help but look away when he removed the contacts from his eyes and gently placed it back on the two circular case. “Sorry, t’was disgusting.”

“No! You’re not! It’s just your fingers were so close to your eyeballs!” You exclaimed, bumping your shoulders together as you took the space on the couch next to him. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Can you help me get my eyedrops in the bathroom? It’s in the medicine cabinet.” He asks, still blinking his eyes from irritation.

“Got it, just wait here.” You immediately got up from the couch and rushed towards the bathroom. You didn’t even need his instructions on which room is the bathroom, you made your way to it like it was your own house.

“Gotcha!” You exclaimed after investigating the vial bottle where a bunch of letters that spelled out Eye Drops on a sticky paper wrapped around the bottle. You went back to the living room and caught Warren rubbing his eyes abrasively. “Warren! Your eyes might get more irritated if you keep rubbing it.”

“Sorry, it’s just so… itchy!” For the last time, he rubbed his eyes once more before your own hands stopped him.

“Seriously, you. Anyways, I got your eye drops.” You handed him the vial and without wasting a second he poured droplets of it into his eyes and once again, you couldn’t help but look away.

After he poured the drops both in his eyes, he set the vial at the coffee table in front of the couch. He opened his arms to you, and you didn’t hesitate to collapse on him. You always loved the feel of his arms around you, but of course you couldn’t help but wonder why he ended up in this situation. “Wait, why are you even wearing eye contacts?! Your brown eyes are already perfect…” You pouted, at least to you it’s the perfect shade of brown ever! He bit his bottom lip but he couldn’t help but turn his frown upside down. “Don’t give me that sweet smile that you know I‘d go soft for!”

“Okay, okay, it’s just my vision has been getting blurry from using the computer, phone, et cetera. So… I went to the hospital and I had to get some graded glasses.” He sighed, remembering his time with that horrible and strict optometrist. “But it didn’t look good on me so I bought some contacts but I think I’m allergic to them…”

Suddenly you put two and two together. “Is that why you were so insistent on having online dates?” You know that you got him by the way he avoids your eyes and looks at the uninteresting items around the living room.

“Hmm, no?” His answer almost sounds like a question that you couldn’t help but chuckle and feel himself push his body next to you, burying his head towards your neck and inhaling your musky perfume that he loved so much.

“Oh, honey. You should’ve just worn the glasses. I’m sure you’d still be the cutest guy in this town.” You tried to assure him by caressing his cheeks while your thumb softly dusts away the tears from his eyelashes.

“You don’t understand. Chloe… Chloe said I looked like Simon from Alvin and the Chipmunks! And you know what? I actually do look like him, now that she mentioned it!” He groaned, pulling away from your comforting touch and put his head on his arms to hide, casting a shadow upon himself.

“Warren, come on, some stupid glasses are not gonna make you any less attractive. I’d even prefer it, rather than seeing you get allergies from contact lenses. So please, don’t torture yourself so that you can appear appealing for me because my feelings aren’t shallow for you that it would change just because you change something about you.” You softly pecked his lips. Finally his body relaxed, his shoulders loosened before nodding. While the redness in his eyes slowly faded away, and the tears that were flowing earlier stopped.

“I’m not underestimating your feelings, babe. It’s just…” He took a deep breath and took out an eyeglass case. “Just don’t laugh.”

You immediately shook your head as you watched in anticipation when he opened the case and revealed a black round frames. Your impatience and excitement got the better of you. “Can I put it on you?”

“Wha, uh, sure.” He gently handed you the eye glasses and closed his eyes. You made sure the hooks of the glasses rest comfortably on his ears. “Is it good?” He asked with his eyes still shut.

When you didn’t answer, nervousness settled on his bones. His fingers anxiously tapping on his thighs as he waits for your answer or at least a confirmation that he doesn’t look bad. Maybe the reason for your speechlessness was because he looked so adorable with his glasses on, sure it made him look more like a nerd than he already is but it just made him look more handsome.

“Honey?” He called out, he didn’t want to open your eyes and be met with a turned off expression, but as he was about to call out your name, your lips shut him up. He opened his eyes in shock because every now and again, he never gets used to the fact that he’s dating you so every time the two of you kiss it always sends him in a state where he has constant reminders in his mind that he has the absolute permission to kiss you back.

“You look so hot in your glasses.” You whispered when you parted your lips from him. It was just mere seconds but both of you have to take deep breaths while a bead of sweat rolls down on your forehead because somehow the room became comfortably warm even if the AC was on.

“Wait, you're serious?” His jaw slacks from your sudden declaration. In response you laughed at his obvious confusion, moving closer and straddled his lap. Your hand slid on his cheeks, gently squishing the soft flesh. Upon doing so his glasses slightly got crooked and ended up on the tip of his nose making it out of place.

“What? You might look like Simon, but I can see a little Milo Thatch here and there. And you know he was my childhood crush.” Your hand moved on his neck since he was about to reach out scratch that spot again.

There was not a doubt that whatever he hides, his small habits always catches your attention that it makes you see right through him. You know him better than he knows himself and how you fully accept those habits, patterns, and mostly is himself what made him confident.

“Mhm, now that I thought about it… I guess I do. What if for Halloween we go out as Milo and Princess Kida?” You smiled at his suggestion and gently nodded. While his hands roam on your back, you let yourself be pulled towards him, closing the gap between you before resting your forehead on his shoulder. “Are you sure I look fine?”

You slightly leaned backward and took a close inspection of his face. God, how can he be this fine and still question his looks? The glasses compliment his facial features, especially his eyes. It made his eyes pop more of color from the metallic silver frames he chose. “Do I have to kiss you how much I want you for you to be rest assured?”

The grin he had earlier turned into a smile that shows his teeth. “Yes. Yes, please.”

You didn’t wait a second as you caught him off guard from the sudden kiss. It gradually became deeper and hands finally roamed under your sweatshirt, feeling the way your skin burned from his touch and sent shivers down your spine. When you were about to pull away to breathe, he rested his hand on your nape preventing your escape. He continued to suck on your bottom lip, causing you to breathe to your nose only for it to fog his glasses.

“Warren, not fair.” By this time you were able to talk as if he moved towards your jaw, leaving open-mouthed kisses.

“What’s not fair? You started it.” His mouth was already on your neck when you softly moaned his name, despite the warmness of his kisses his glasses were the opposite feeling the cold chill of the metal frames of his glasses.

His remark made you speechless, but to be honest it was the way his touches made you look like a puppet. Only responding to the places he touched you and how much you wanted for more. Your desire made you bold to hold his face and engage in a searing kiss, leaving red lipstick smudge on the side of his lips but he doesn’t have it in him to care, if anything he wanted you to mark his body with your kisses and lipstick.

You sneaked out your phone tucked in your pockets, hypnotizing him from your kiss so he wouldn’t notice it. Before you pull away you peck the tip of his nose, then you hit the camera icon on your phone and angled the phone to take a quick picture.

“Hey! Not fair!” He whined, trying to take away the phone from you, likely had an intention to delete the picture. But you kept flailing your arms accompanied with the sound of laughter that he couldn’t help but melt to.

“Pleaseeee, just let me keep this one.” When he stopped trying to take your phone, you opened the gallery to see the photo you took. “See?!”

His pout turned into an ‘oh’ shape when he saw it. The lighting of the room helped elevate the photo, and him as a subject being in a dazed state with his pupils blown while his face was covered in a red smudged lipstick just made this single photo into a masterpiece. “Now, I have a wallpaper.”

You saw the look on his face, utterly bewildered by how good he looked at the picture you’ve taken made you giggle. How on Earth is he not aware how many girls are jealous of you by just dating him?!

The sound of your laugh muffled by your hand caught his attention. “Fine, you can keep it. But only for yourself.”

“Hmm, I don’t know, I kinda want to print it out and put it all over my room.” Your pointer finger touched your chin as if you’re in a manner of thinking deeply. He chuckled at your teasing that he couldn’t help but pounce you and put you down on the couch.

“Do whatever you want, but I want a picture of you as well.” He softly kissed your collarbone, leaving wet trails of kisses. He slipped his hand under your shirt, almost able to touch the fabric of your brassiere when a car beeped outside his house.

Both of you went still as stone until you heard his mom yelled his name. “Oh, shit.” You muttered under your breath.

“Yeah, let’s continue this upstairs.” He immediately got off of you, both of your hearts hammering against their rib cages from the thought of being caught. Since the sound of the front door creaking open and the hall connected to the living room, you had at least a little time to fix your clothes.

“Warren, have you watered the plants?” His mother’s eyes shifted from her husband to the both of you. “Oh!”

In an awkward laugh, Warren took hold of the situation. “Haha, so, you’ve met my girlfriend before. But we’re going to go upstairs now.”

He took your hand and instantly took off from the scene and headed towards his bedroom. Leaving both of his parents stunned and flustered by how bold their son has become.

The moment both of you were inside of his room, he made sure to close and locked the door. “We totally fooled them.” He said in triumph.

“Baby, you still literally have my lipsticks stained all over your mouth and nose. What makes you think we fooled them?”

“So, what? At least they know I’m loved right?” His cheeky grin was so infectious that you couldn’t help but giggle at what he said. He pulled you by the waist to steal a quick kiss.

“I might have to kiss you all over once we go to school, by the time you walk in the classroom girls might just lose their mind. So I have to remind them I’m your girlfriend or something.” Just imagining it boils down your mood, because if you couldn’t help but go feral over him just thinking about other people…

His pointer finger and thumb softly pinches your chin to make you look at him.“I doubt that, everyone knows I only have eyes for you. Well, four eyes.” You rolled your eyes but your grin couldn’t be wiped from your face.

He’s got a point, though. He always has his eyes for you.