#at this point just call him a straight woman it's less embarrassing to you

[ihateliterature]

It's very interesting how anti-fujos will say that they want more wholesome content and content made by gay men and that wholesome stories made by gay men are the only true good representation, because there is a gay man who made a really popular wholesome comic and what they did to him was very telling...

[briefalpacashark]

~Cowboys and Men = Part Two~

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“She's her own woman. Who knows not to mess with pretty little cowboys like you,” Jonny stated. He didn't like the cowboy from the moment they meet. Weather that be due to the insult or not was unimportant.

“We’ll see about that,” Arthur smiled, walking away.

“Can we kill him?” Ghost asked.

“Such a pity a civilian was caught in the crossfire,” Jonny shrugged, adding onto Ghost’s statement.

“I volunteer. I'll just say my aim was off,” Gaz offered.

“Easy boys,” Price shut down the idea. But he wasn't necessarily opposed to it.

Tommy was a good rider for his age. He stayed on the back of the beast of a bucker longer than anyone else. Then it was your turn. 

“Fucken hell,” you whispered as you climbed into the pen sitting atop the horse that moved around ready to send you straight to hell. 

“You look nervous,” your head snapped to the side to see Tommy smiling at you.

“He's wild,” you nodded down to the horse.

“You can still back out,” he suggested. That smile he wore, was he being suspicious or just a dick. “Ain't no shame in being a buckle bunny,” he stated. Your face settled into a frown at the insult.

“Lets go!” you announced. Man, that horse rocked you. You lasted an average amount of time. At one point, you lost your hat. You were thrown from the horse in a dramatic fashion tumbling across the ground. The people cheered as you got yourself to your feet. When you recovered from the fall, you looked around for your hat. It had fallen out of the arena. With your body still buzzing with adrenalin, you jogged over to it. As you were about to reach down Arthur had picked it up. 

“Than-” your words trailed off as he took off his own and placed yours upon his head. Your face flushed as you were reminded of the hat rule. He grinned, leaning down over the railing holding his own out to you.

“Ohhhhh looks like she's got an admirer. You two youngins be safe tonight,” the announcer called as wolf whistles sounded front the crowd. You brushed your nose, ducking your head in embarrassment.

“Will she take the hat?” the announcer asked. 

“Take the hat! Take the hat!” the crowd began to chant. God, how did it happen? Spotting Tommy watching from the side, you second guessed your actions. In one of the meeting Price had order you all to blend in. To play the part.

If he thinks you're a buckle bunny you'll play the part of a buckle bunny. You took Arthurs hat and placed it on your head, the crowd going wild. Arthur smiled, tipping the hat to you as you walked off. 

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It was game time. You all convened drawing your hidden guns as you headed for Tommy, only when you arrived at the garage he was gone.

“The fuck?” you questioned. When returning to Arthur he meet the team halfway with a sorry look.

“He left early, right after your run,” Arthur stated in an apologetic tone.

“Let's go. We should still be able to catch him on the road,” Price suggested.

“Hey, come on. He'll be here again tomorrow. You'll have a better chance then anyway,” Arthur held his hands up to slow you all.

“Why's that?” Jonny asked.

“Less people. He stays for drinks after,” he stated. 

“You better not be fucking us around,” Ghost warned, turning fully to tower over Arthur.

“Wouldn't dream of it,” he answered. You all turned to Price ready to act on his decision.

“Fine,” Price stated. The boys walked off, ready to head back to the ranch. You walked up to Arthur with a bashful smile.

“Here,” you said, handing his hat back to him.

“You know the rules, right?” he asked. Wear the hat, ride the cowboy. If you put on a cowboy's hat, it meant one of two things. He was coming home with you or you were going home with them.

“I do. But I was playing a role. To keep Tommy thinking I'm the buckle bunny he suspects,” you said beckoning for your hat. Arthur looked slightly disappointed at your words.

“I see. But I want you to know the offer still stands,” he said, taking your hat of and stepping closer to place it on your head.

“And while I'm flattered, I'm sorry but I have to refuse,” you stated with a small smile.

“It's the Ghost boy isn't it?” he asked. You sputtered a resonance as you chuckled, stepping back.

“Funny,” you said fixing your hat so its brim covered your eyes from his gaze.

“Well, if I was him I'd get a move on,” Arthur stated with a knowing smile before walking off. With a huff you shock your head searching for the boys, unknownst to you one particular one with a skull mask was situated in a shadow watching the whole situation with an uneasy feeling in his belly. 

“If I were you I'd get a move on,” Ghost knew Price had approached him. But his statement still made him jump.

“Don't know what you're talkin bout,” Ghost muttered.

“That cowboy’s working his magic. I’s get in before you regret it,” Price stated with a knowing look. Ghost stared at his Captain a man he trusted with is his life.

“Men like us don't deserve a woman like her Captain, we don't deserve happy endings,” Ghost muttered. Price nodded. A part of him wanted to agree.

“Well she deserves the world. And if she wants you in that world are you going to refuse?” Price asked.

“She deserves better than me John,” Ghost whispered. His hands were dipped in too much blood to ever hold her.

“I don't think so,” Price shrugged.

“Oh yeah, what do you think?” Ghost almost snapped at the man.

“I think you deserve each other,” he whispered, giving Ghost shoulder a firm pat before walking away. He didn't say it with malice. He said it with a kind smile. Trying to tell his solider that he did deserve happiness.

That night you were all sat round a fire with a few of the ranch hands. All drinking and simply enjoying the night. Some shared stories. Jonny made up a few of his own playing the part of the cowboy. One of the ranch hands were plucking a banjo admitting he had just started to learn. After a few seconds he was forced to put the instrument down by the many annoyed ranchers.

“Damn thing sounds like a cat dien,” A rancher called.

“Come on now, the banjos a beautiful instrument,” you called out in defense. You were sat in between Price and Ghost on a log.

“You did hear what we hear right?” Jonny asked, pointing to the embarrassed lad. 

“No offense, but you need to hear it played right. It can be beautiful,” you said.

“Oh yeah prove it,” Gaz dared. With the help of a little alcohol you shrugged, standing up. “Hold that for me, will ya sweetheart?” You asked passing your bottle to Ghost who automatically took it. 

“Not your sweetheart,” he grumbled. You chuckled with a wink before walking over to the lad.

“May I?” you asked. He handed over the instrument and the picks which you slipped onto your fingers. 

“Didn’t want to say anything before, but it probably would help if ya tuned it,” you said plucking a few stings to get the right tune. Arthur stood from his seat, which was semi center allocated and offered it to you. 

“Why thankyou sir,” you tipped your hat as you sat down.

“Now, no one make fun of me. I'm a little rusty,” you whispered.

“There is no way you know how to play that thing,” Jonny muttered. You smirked giving him a wink as you adjusted. 

“This one's called sugar hill,” you muttered before you began. To there surprise, a cohesive and beautifully uplifting melody echoed from your fingertips. Your audience was silent as smiles settled onto their faces. It was peaceful, beautiful. It was a moment you wished you could freeze. Yet when the song ended so did your little fantasy. Everyone cheered and clapped. 

“Oncour!” Arthur called.

“Alright, if the crowd wishes,” you grinned befor diving into another song.

After a while everyone was sort of talking to themselves. You sat by the lad form before giving him a few pointers.

“So Ghost was it. What do you do?” Your head snapped up at the question much like the other boys. Next to Ghost saw a woman, drop dead gorgeous and she knew it type of woman. She sat really close to him. A seductive smile on her lips. 

“I'm on Anna’s team,” he stated simply. “I know that. What's your speciality?” she asked. She was just making conversation. Only it wasn't just a conversation for Ghost. It was an interrogation. One he need to keep his cover though. His mind went blank. All he had to say was something to do with horses, or management. After all you didn't think the boys would be asked anything past that. Laswell certainly didn't so she didn't give the boys specialised jobs in your so called team. In all Ghost’s wisdom he turned to look for help. His eyes mistakenly rested on Jonny.

“He's uh. He's our musician,” You and Price almost smacked your foreheads at the words. Out of all the jobs Jonny could have chosen he chose musician. Ghost eyes narrowed into a glare for a split second before becoming blank.

“Oh my, that's amazing, what do you play?” she asked, moving closer. So close that her chest brushes by his arm. Your frowned at the gnawing feeling that settled in your stomach.

“Guitar,” Ghost answered.

“Oh you're in luck,” the woman dispersed to the back of truck before pulling a guitar out. Great, just great. She trusted the instrument into his hands with an excited smile.

“Will you play something for me? Please,” she flashed her pretty eyelashes. 

“I don't feel like it,” Ghost stated.

“Oh come on. What, you not a real musician then?” she pressed teasingly. Ghost was a good soldier, so he knew he had to do whatever he could to keep his cover. So to all your utter shock he slipped the guitar on. And started playing.

I can't help falling in love with you, by Elvis Presley. 

I can't help fucking falling in love with you by Elvis Fucking Presley. 

His voice was beautiful, deep and steady. Like the beat of an old tribal drum. His eyes focused solely on the guitar as he sang. The team was shocked into slack jawed silence. Simon Riley was singing and play the actual guitar. You never thought you would see the day.

And you found yourself wishing. Wishing that the person he was singing to was you. A stupid dream. You didn't see it, in fact you just missed it. Ghost had looked to you, a slight flicker of his eyes caught by very few. When you looked up at him, his eyes had returned to his guitar. Two gazes so soft, only for it to have been missed by the two they were intended for. It was painful for the boys to watch. When the song finished, everyone cheered yet again. The girl wasn't wearing a hat so when she reached over and took Ghost and placed it on her head with the bite of her lips, almost everyone cheered and whistled. The girl blushed and ducked her head. The hat rule. Wear the hat, ride the cowboy.

They look good together. You thought. His eyes were focused solely on hers as she spoke. 

A sad smile spread across your face as you acknowledged the painful truth. Simon would never be someone like that to you. Sure you were friends, well, you hoped you were friends. But he had never made any clear signs. Every time you would say something sweet he would shoot it down. Just remembering his pervious comment, your throat stung bitterly. You were good at hiding dejection, you could pretend like it didn't affect you at all. But it did. 

Love wasn't in the cards for  you. You supposed you had accepted that fate long ago. Still knowing the fact didn't make it hurt any less. You tried not to think about it as you continued to teach the guy. Still, the mind rarely listens to you. Moments of the past passed through your mind, all the times you had tried to flirt. Tried to lay down a hint. Tired to be sweet. Tried to show him that you liked him. All ended in either being shot down or ignored. It wasn't like he was rude about it. He just didn't leave any room for misinterpretation. Misinterpretation you constantly enacted when you failed to see the expressions his mask hid.

And it didn't help that the only time he was sweet to you, when he held your hand so tenderly in the hospital. When he pressed his lips to your palm and leaned into your touch. Due to the drugs you couldn't remember a single moment of it.

“So what do you think, we proper cowboys now or what?” Jonny asked Arthur.

“Well you ain't proper cowboys till you've played cowboy poker,” Arthur shrugged.

“The fuck is cowboy poker?” Jonny asked. 

“This is the stupidest fucking thing I've ever done,” Jonny looked like he was about to shit himself. At the moment you all were sitting around a shitty plastic table on shitty plastic chairs. You Gaz, Jonny, Price, Ghost Arthur and another lad. In the middle of a coral.

“So we just sit here!?” Gaz asked as he breathed deeply and quickly on the point of hyperventilation. 

“Yes sir,” Arthur sung from beside you as he handed you a bottle of whiskey. You took it downing a good two gulps.

“This is stupid,” Price grumbled.

“And yet you're still sitting here,” you stated, handing the bottle to him.

“Not a word to Laswell. Understood?” he gave you all pointed looks.

“What scared you'll get in trouble from the missus?” you asked.

“The wife?” Arthur asked. You all chuckled as Price shook his head, handing it to Gaz.

“Are we really doing this?” Jonny asked. At first he thought it was just a joke, but as he saw the bull being rounded up he was staring to grasp the situation.

“Whatever you do Jonny, don't get off the seat,” you said.

“This is fucken mad,” he whispered shaking his head and snatching the bottle from Gaz.

“Forget your big boy pants back at the shop Jonny?” Ghost asked.

“Fuck you LT,” he snapped.

“SOMEONE WANNA EXPLAIN THE RULES?” Gaz asked.

“Last one at the table wins the pot,” you said watching as they slipped the bull int he chute that lead to the coral.

“Don't worry the bull always goes for the table first,” Arthur shrugged.

“THIS IS CRAZY!” Gaz screamed.

“Yeah not much smart thinking went into the creation of this. Pretty sure it was just booze and idiocy,” you stated.

“Set em free!” Arthur yelled. The sound of the gate crashing open sounded and the bull was let lose.

“Fuck this,” Gaz was the first to leave taking the bottle of whiskey with him. You all watched as the bull locked in on its target. It cleaved through the table Jonny and Price leaving before it hit. The table was destroyed and Arthur jumped out the way before the bull plowed straight through him. That just left you and Ghost. 

“Scared big guy?” You asked.

“Never,” he stated. Your eyes locked as the bull found the two of you. You were a little way aways from each other, You had sat on opposing seats so that meant the bull was going to choose one of you. It was a stare of between the two of you as you heard the bull fast approaching. 

Were you a little angry at Ghost? sure. You liked him and he didn't like you. A small flicker of childish rage bubbled within you. How dare he not like you? What was wrong with you? Why not you? It was a stupid little thought, but it was still there. So you kept his gaze, both of you refusing to look away. 

And one moment Ghost was there and the next he wasn't, broken plastic chair legs flipping through the air. The bull had slammed into him. 

“Oh shit,” a chuckle left your lips as the bull ran off. “You alive big guy?” you asked, rushing up to him in a bit of worry. Your eyes watching the bull that fought with the piece of chair stuck on his horn. You had to get out of the coral.

“No,” Ghost grunted painfully.

“Come on, don't wanna get hit again do ya?” You asked, pulling the man to his feet. The two of you rushed to the fence of the coral. Ghost found his thoughts not on the worry of the bull hitting him for a second time but focused on your hand. Which held his tightly as you pulled him away. Making it just in time, the bull pulled to a skidding stop as you both flung yourself over the top. You hit the ground beside Simon your hands still clung together. As you gazed up at the stars loud laughter erupted from your chest as you gave his hand a squeeze. Simons eye on the other hand was focused on you.

“That, my fiends is cowboy poker!” Arthur called, holding his hand out to you. You pulled your hand from Ghost’s grip and took the offered helping hand.

Later that night, when everyone was asleep, you snuck out to the field, taking the banjo in hand. You continued to drink as you rested upon a tree plucking the banjo as you tried to sort out your thoughts. Which unfortunately constantly pulled themselves back to a certain activity you though Ghost, and the girl were partaking in. Unbeknownst to you, Ghost had completely ghosted the girl, avoiding her at all costs.

 “The fuck you doing out here?” Ghost voice had you flinching, knocking the bottle of booze all over you.

“Shit,” you cursed.

“Drinking on the job?” he asked with a teasingly disapproving tone as he approached.

“Well, can't always be the model soldier now can I?” you asked, putting the bottle to the side whipping the alcohol the best you could. 

“The boys got worried when they woke up and you weren't there,” Ghost explained. You checked your watch. It was 5 am around the time you all would usually get up. You had not realized that you had sat out there for so long.

“I'm a big girl,” you shrugged.

“True,” he nodded, sitting down on the log closest to you. 

“Didn’t know you could play the guitar. Much less sing like an angle,” you muttered.

“Think I sing pretty?” he asked. You smiled.

“Like a siren Simon,” you said flashing him that smile he loved so much. 

“Didn't picture you as a Elvis fan,” you said.

“Oh, yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah, picture you more as a heavy punk. Maybe a little rock,” you shrugged with a teasing smile.

“Well for your information I partake in the enjoyment of the country quite often,” he said.

“Oh, really?’ you asked, a small chuckle leaving your lips involuntarily. A contagious one seeing as Simon's shoulder shook slightly with a chuckle of their own. 

“I wanted to be a cowboy when I was a kid. Dreamt of owning a farm of my own,” he admitted. You paused your plucking. Simon had never talked about his past before. It seemed to serious for him as he quickly changed to a joking tone.

“The guitar original started as a way to impress the ladies,” he stated.

“Well you don't need any help there. That chick seemed smitten with you,” Simon briefly caught onto the slightly bitter bite that came at the end of your sentence. He wanted to believe it, but he also believed it could be his mind playing tricks.

“Just like you are with the cowboy?” Simon didn't know why he said it. Perhaps he wanted you to repute it.

“Who? Arthur?” you asked with a snort.

“What? He's got the horses, money, he's alright looking,” Simon shrugged. You shook your head the whiskey bring out your honesty like it always did.

“Nah. He's uh, he's not the one for me,” you stated simply.

“Who is?” The blatant question caught you off guard. You chuckled nervously, casting your eyes down to the banjo as you plucked it.

“I uh, I don't know,” you muttered. Simon tried not to be dejected at it. “The fucker better hurry up though. I'm getting impatient,” you joked, your eyes flicking up to Simon”s for only a second. It was only a second they needed to be caught in the pools of brown. Simon was studying you, like he did to everyone. Taking in everything about you. But there was something else in his eyes. He seemed like he wanted to say something. Price's words burned in his mind. He wanted to offer himself up as a potential candidate. But as hard as he tried, his tongue simply wouldn't move. You waited a few moments for him to say anything. Then you waited a few more. A sad smile spread across your face. It wasn't possible.

“The girl you end up with is gonna be one lucky bitch Simon,” you whispered turning away from his gaze as you stood. You put the banjo down as you watched the sun rise.

“You think?” finally his mouth wanted to speak. It just didn't say the right thing.

“I know it,” you whispered, patting his shoulder as you walked past him, back to the house. Your hand squeezed his shoulder before slipping off. Simon’s hand reached up, his fingers missing your’s by mere millimeters. 

In a bush nearby, Soap slammed his palm over his eyes, cursing his two teammates under his breath.

Everything was going great. You and the team had a plan. You were seated at a bar area with Tommy not too far away. The second day's events came and went. And now you were just waiting. Waiting for Tommy to peel away from the group so you could nab him. 

A beer was placed down in front of you.

“Sorry I didn't order this,” you spoke up to the bartender.

“He sent it for you sweetheart,” she said, pointing to Tommy. You forced a smile, giving him a cheers motion. He politely dismissed himself from the people he was talking to and made his way over to you.

“Hell of a ride yesterday,” he said.

“It was average,” you shrugged. He smiled as he sat down beside you fairly close. So close in fact that your shoulders were pressed together. 

“Yeah, it sure was,” he stated. Your heart stopped as you heard the click of a safety. A moment later you felt a cool metal pressed through your shit into your side. 

“Well shit,” you muttered, deciding to take a large sip of the beer.

“Shit is right, sweetheart. Now listen close or i'll blow your guts over that lovely girl next to you,” he threatened nodding to the woman who sat beside you. He had a gun pressed against you.

“There's an awful lot of people here,” you stated.

“Good thing my gun has a silencer on it. And if I'm not mistaken, you look a little drunk,” he said his lips twisting into a cocky smirk. 

“Wouldn't be surprised if you passed out, you know. But being the general man I am I’d be sure to take you to a quiet spot,” he suggested. He was right. The music was blaring. Nobody was paying attention to you. And you were alone. You were the lookout. The boys were stationed elsewhere in wait for him. But he didn't know that.

“My boys are watching mate, I wouldn't,” your words got cut off by his boisterous laugh.

“No sweetheart. You see, I know they're waiting for me tucked in little hide holes around the exit. I know you're all alone. Now what you're going to do is tell your little friends that I'm on the move. Heading in a completely different direction than they think I am. Then you and I are gonna slip out the back where I have a car waiting,” he explained it all. 

“And if I don't comply?” your question was answered by the gun being pressed further into your side. Yet your gaze remained unfazed. Unshaken. There was no fear in your eyes. 

“Then I kill him,” he stated, nodding to the bartender. “And her,” he said, nodding to another random person. “And her,” he added, nodding to a little girl who walked by. You stared at Tommy trying to see if he was speaking the truth. To find any lies in his eyes. You couldn't see anything, he was good at hiding his thoughts. And you couldn't risk it.

“How did you know?” you asked. 

“I got a little tip off,” he shrugged.

“From who?” you asked.

“And why would I tell you?” he asked.

“I don't know, cowboy to cowboy?” you suggested. He chuckled again.

“You may be a cowboy kid. But there's things that are a little bit more important than that. Now on with it,” he stated. Rolling your tongue along your inner teeth, you pressed you finger to your ear.

“This is Bingo, Bushy, you there?” you asked. At the other end of the coms, the boys all frowned in utter confusion. 

“What is she on about?” Jonny asked.

“Doc? This is Bravo 6. Repeat your last?” Price asked.

“Bingo has visuals. Target on the move. Casper and Dirt are clear to engage. He's headed for the west car park,” You hoped and prayed that the boys would understand.

“Good girl,” Tommy said, reaching up to rip the earpiece off before you could get a response from them.

“Capser and dirt? What's that supposed to be? Me and Ghost?” Jonny asked. 

“She's not using out code names,” Ghost stated into his comms the realization washing over them like a wave.

“Somethin’s not right,” Price grumbled gruffly.

Tommy had quickly taken you out of the bar area to the secluded back. You were walking to the car, the gun now pressed against your back. Your hands were clasped behind your head per his orders as he had taken your concealed weapons, but he still didn't trust you.

“Isn't this the part where you say I'm not going to get away with this?” he asked.

“Don't need to say something I know is gonna happen,” you shrugged.

“What?” his question was answered by a gun shot. You moved to the side and back, slamming your body against Tommy pinching the arm that held the gun between your arm and side. His pain scream ripped through your ears, a shot having cleaved through his leg. Your hit sent him flying to the ground as you ripped the gun from his grasp falling with him. Pulling your elbow back you stuck him in the face. 

Bullets ripped above you as the boys took out the few enemies that emerged from the car. Flipping Tommy who was wallowing loudly in pain over you slipped some zip ties around his hands. Pulling them taunt you glanced back at the car gun at the ready. Finding all enemies neutralized you stood.

“Doc you alright!?” Price was the first to make it to you.

“Course. Took your time,” you muttered.

“Ghost had to get into position,” he nodded to the shadow that stood on a nearby building sniper on his shoulder. Holding your hand up in thanks, he simply nodded.

“We look like a bunch of rag tag outlaws in these getups,” you stated as you heaved Tommy up along with Price. 

“Price she alright?” Ghost voice pressed into Price comm.

“She's all good,” Price said back.

“Tell em to stop worrying. And remind Jonny he still owes me a photo,” you told Price. When Ghost joined back up with you, you flashed him your usual smile.

“Thanks for having my back Big guy,” you held you hand out for a fist bump. 

“That not your blood is it?” he asked nodding to your pants. You looked down.

“Of course it's not mine. What feel your shootings getting a bit skew?” you asked. As you went to look up your vision was blacked by the brim of a hat. A hand placing it on your head and ruffling your hair with it.

“Quick thinking Doc. Good job,” Ghost hand left your head where he had placed his hat. You tilted it back watching as Ghost loaded Tommy into the back of the truck.

He had put his hat on your head. Through your faint blush, you shock your head. He didn't know about the rule. You told yourself to stop being delusional as you got back to work.

Little did you know Ghost knew all about the rule. Thats why his heart hurt so much to see you willingly taking another man's hat. As you left Price was talking to Arthur. Arthur's eyes scanned over you all as he waved a small goodby. You waved back falling to notice Ghost standing behind you with the smuggest look of victory on his face. After all you were still wearing his hat.

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=Cowboys and Men Part 1 Here=

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=COD Master List here=

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[yuriisclumsy]

Love's Dance

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 1,234

Part 1 | Part 2 (You are here) | Part 3

Authors note: I'm feeding you all good with this.

Four days have passed since I arrived here. 

I spend most of my time gathering intel and familiarizing myself with the place. One thing I noticed was the lack of underground operations here in the Henituse’s territory. The Count made sure to eradicate all sorts of dangerous activities for his people and family’s sake. 

Gotta give it to him, he did a spectacular job. The only underground activity—If you can call that—I was able to find were a few gangs in the semi-slums that didn’t have much strength. 

Aside from this, I also investigated and searched for the people on the list. Good news, I only have one last person to check. Bad news… 

It’s the Count’s son. 

“*Sigh…* Why does fate hate me so much?” I asked, looking up at the sky. Covering my face from the sun's rays with my hand, I search for writings, a sign…anything that could answer my question.  

“...oh, who am I kidding? Fate won’t respond to me, even if I were to beg for it.” 

Walking down a street full of vendors trying to sell products, my mind wandered to how I'll manage to get close to Cale Henituse, Count Deruth’s oldest son—and possibly his successor. 

A loud voice interrupted my state of mind, much to my dismay. It came from a woman standing on a podium. She had gathered a crowd with her excessive yelling; both adults and children were listening excitedly. 

Hmmm. Seems interesting My feet moved on their own, trying to get me as close as possible to this small curiosity. 

Getting a good listen at the girl, she seems to be announcing something. 

“Everyone! There will be a Festival in the next upcoming days!” The girl yelled excitedly. 

“A festival?”  

Having a festival means there is going to be more security, and knowing the Count’s record…yeah, no This was turning out to be a real nuisance. I don’t want to deal with that while doing this mission. I better find a plan to get to Henituse before the festival. But how…?  

Just as I turned to leave, the girl shouted again. 

“The Henituses’ are hosting this festival and are going to be in attendance through the whole thing! So don’t miss out on it!” 

This! I shot my head towards the girl, having a few stares at me. But I could care less. What is more important is the fact that I can use this festival to my advantage!  

If I can get him to mingle with the people, it’ll save me a lot of time! I grinned like a madman. 

“Look mama! That lady is smiling weirdly!” A kid pointed at me. 

“Don’t point,” the mother quickly grabbed him and walked away while staring at me weirdly. 

 Realizing I was acting out of line, I left the area to stop making an embarrassment out of myself. 

Ah! There is no time to waste! I need to come up with a plan fast! Otherwise, I'll lose this once in a lifetime opportunity. Thank you fate, I'll never doubt you again! 

I made my way to the room that was rented out for me. I did not notice the older gentleman in front of me and bumped into him, causing some of his groceries to fall. Luckily, he managed to catch all the items before they fell on the floor. 

“Oh, I am really sorry!” I vowed while apologizing, I went around him and stayed on my path. 

The older gentlemen stared at me until I faded into nothing. 

“...” 

… 

“So, there are two high class agents currently in the city?” Cale asked. 

“Yes.” Choi Han confirmed. Ron was right next to him when they made the discovery, so they went straight back to report. “One of the agents has been living in the city for a few years with little activity, the other recently arrived.” 

“From what we gathered, the newer agent is most likely the one assigned to whatever mission they gave out.” Said Ron right after Han finished. 

“Those are a few fries! I could go right now and destroy them!” A young dragon spoke while playing with his food, he smashed a cookie signifying what he’ll do. 

No, thank you. You’ll just destroy the city while doing so. Cale sweated at this image. 

“One of them is a bit odd if I have to say.” Ron spoke. 

“What do you mean?” 

“When me and the punk were searching, we ran across one of them. She seemed to be happily skipping while putting up bombs.” Ron said with a smile. 

You call that odd? She seems to fit right in with those weirdos. Cale thought. 

“What Ron said is true. She is really weird.” Choi Han agreed.

 

“What is odd about that? If anything, she matches Arm’s whole craze-quota.” 

“She was placing bombs in abandoned homes and alleys; places people didn’t frequent. Don’t you think this is a bit strange?” Ron finally said. 

Cale grabbed his chin in thought.

That is strange. Usually, Arm does not care for casualties. As long as they’re plans were met, anyone could go up in flames… Still, her placing bombs while skipping is concerning. 

“...keep an eye on her and take Raun and the cats with you. I want to dismantle the bombs to be safe.” Cale ordered his subordinates. 

“Yes, master Cale.” 

“Yes, young master.” 

“You ready big sister?” 

“Hm! Can’t wait to teach the youngest how this is done!” 

“I’ll show you, human, that Raun is the greatest!” 

“Good. Now go.” Cale dismissed the group. 

… 

They really just sent me on a suicide mission I thought, looking over the information I had on Cale as I sat in a desk in complete defeat. There were papers scattered all over the room; they covered walls, floor, and bed—there were even some in the bathroom. It wasn’t a pretty site. 

They were detailed plans I had been brainstorming, but so far, all the routes had flaws and countermeasures from the opposing party. I grabbed my hair in frustration. 

Cale’s party consists of powerful individuals: from skilled butlers to beast men. All beings I could not take down on my own, heck, I don’t think even with competent members of Arm, would I, in a million years, take them down. I can’t even hold a weapon correctly. 

“Agh…mmHGHMGHMM” I hit my head against the wooden desk. The despair I was feeling was immense. 

“Maybe it isn’t too late to run away yet…” I say hopeful, before turning on my rationality. “Oh, who am I kidding!? They’ll find me if I run away!” I cry out. 

I glance at the papers on the floor, but one gets my attention. The festival flier had beautiful dancers covering its frame along with some instruments. Flipping the paper to its back gives some information on one of the events of the festival: every day of the festival, right after sunset, citizens and guests can take part in a dance. 

I don’t get how they can plan all of this in a matter of days…the Henituses’ are incredible. Wait a second. If I can get the count’s son to dance, then I’ll be able to get to him! It still needs polishing, but I can combine this with a scraped plan. 

“Looks like I need to contact Agent Lance for a local dress.” 

…

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Master-List

[dabihawksluvr]

jesus christ dude. I understand headcanoning characters as queer or gay or whatever but your "dabi is a misogynist" post reeks of your own internal misogyny. maybe do some soul searching and figure out why you talk to the women you're talking to in that post as they're lesser than you. and hell, what made you post that in the first place???? absolutely insane to put in the main tags. also using c.ai because you can't come up with your own plot is fucking embarrassing get a grip

Oh, I'm gonna have fun with this one today <3

First off, it's pretty obvious that Dabi has some form of his own internalized misogyny because at one point he called both his mom and Fuyumi the 'weak ones' in the family (literally said that the females in the family are all weak-willed). Maybe he fixes that with Toga, because he obviously treats her loads better especially when she goes back to her childhood home. But you cannot tell me, for one iota of however many brain cells you have left in your head, that Dabi was 'never' negative about women in general?? It doesn't need to be spelled out, it's right there if you just pick up the context clues given.

And it doesn't make me love him any less either, if anything it makes me love him MORE because of the angst that can be made with the thought that any Y/N!Female could be the ONE woman he finally gets better for in that aspect. And I love stories where those kinds of guys realize their mistakes with hating all women, it's glorious and makes me weep every single time I read about it.

Oh, and fun fact, I am biologically female. So if you're trying to say I'm 'misogynistic' because I identify as male, oh boy are you SO wrong. I just find it funny that ever since I started identifying as male (around a month ago I specifically came out as DemiBoy) suddenly the influx of 'anti-man' comments are coming straight for me whenever I bring this stuff up. So go on, I honestly need a good laugh today and your anger is hilarious to me.

I'm not using C.AI anymore btw (the bot is too negative/mean now for me to get any joy out of using the site), but even if I was...cool? It's not like I'd take whatever was written and copy-paste it as my 'fanfiction', you weirdo. I just used it for fun, in fact most bots I made on the site were kept private *unless* it was an OC or 'original' plot of mine.

As for me posting all that stuff to begin with - have you SEEN how some in the fandom write Dabi??? Some make him out to be an absolute dick, far worse than anything I've ever thought about him. Like, making him into an even worse abuser than Endeavor ever was. But at least with MY headcanon, he can be redeemed because his reasoning for seeing women as 'weak' is based on actual canon rather than just a sexual fantasy about someone being abused and liking it (nothing against those who like that stuff but it wasn't my point when writing my post).

Or, on the flip side, fans who write him seem to forget his more 'mean' points of his character and it just feels disingenuous to me. I prefer being close to canon with how I see characters, not against the fandom versions in any way but in my head I always stay close to how they're portrayed by the OG creator/writer. And I also like angst, I am allowed to 'bump up' certain character traits if it fits my headcanons and if you don't like it then tough tits.

Also, you are a coward. Sending me an anonymous 'ask', at least be up-front and let me know your username so I can rightfully block you. Because I'm only writing this as you left yourself unknown, I cannot go to your account and erase you from my side of Tumblr because you might get some (much needed) backlash for this.

Go fuck yourself, and anyone else like you who thinks you can talk shit and get away with it. Fucking coward.

[mandy4ever69420]

1. idk how many people process mickeys unwillingness to tell anyone or describe ian's symptoms as a form of protection but it's so swag. Like straight up no it is embarrassing to have your business out like that even if it's family. also how his mouth was SHUT while everyone was explaining ian's symptoms to those like. military cop whoeverthefucks 👍

2. mickey being like one of two people to comment that lips construction job was probably for a gentrification business. hm. anyway it's cool how easy he finds it to manipulate lip into wanting his approval and then also deny lip his approval for not blasting the fuck out of that cafe.

3. like i know that "gay and homophobic" is a joke but i think it's missing a big piece of context that the vast majority of the time when mickey is violent towards gay men it's in more or less direct response to him or ian being sexually harassed -> ned / macy's bitch / i'm not the one licking and groping on underage boys huh / dude not taking no for an answer after telling mickey ian left with someone else.

a) and walking into a straight bar and being a bitch non violently to a woman who also won't take no for an answer. bc of different ideas about how women are which btw are misogynistic but in a way that's not that big a deal.

so frustrating to me that people can't understand that mickeys pimp plot Wasn't really misogynistic bc it makes it harder to point out how he Does interact with misogyny eg he can't understand that women can be perpetrators or thinks maybe they inherently need protection. not too extreme a case of this even bc he also knows how to back off. more complicated bc tbh it is obligation to protect marginalized people that you love. see: mandy in s1.

so funny to me when people take mickey being into redheads as a character trait instead of him just saying he's already in love with someone

4. mickeys learning of ian's porno is like. so good. also owie

a) ian and the audience are aware mickey literally doesn't Care abt screwing other guys if it's for Money.

b) mickeys pivot from being hurt to being worried about ian's safety. Yeah it IS true that walking off with some random bitch who says he'll pay for porn is a terrible idea.

c) they don't actually discuss ian cheating (cheating-cheating, not for money but because of hyper sexuality) but i assume mickey put 2 and 2 together with how rash ian's decision making was.

d) thankyou mickey for having the right priorities about condom usage and health before "omg porn is BAD". i know you're mickey but i have the internet and people are so annoying about this kind of thing

e) i really like that ian called mickey psycho. it's like so good. i mean not the terminology i'd ever use but i know how these characters vocabulary's work so like dramatic irony. well not dramatic irony the definitions not right. it's close to that.

5. again like ian taking yevgeny as a reaction to "oh people think i'm like monica you know what monica would never do??? take her kid with her!!". probably also the most touched i am in any episode about shameless' portrayal of bipolar bc kidnapping is some shit that universally is agreed not fucking cool && is in fact indeed often done by a loved one in crisis && at that you dont usually get a sympathetic look at it. i think the only other media offering smth like that is wolf 359 whose finale im still so so mad at so angry. anyway i looove being asked to and genuinely moved by sympathy for someone doing something it'd also make sense to never forgive them for. 👍

[ellissay-morningstar]

DWC November 2023, Day 2,Success/Sin

Ellissay looked at the bottom of the once more empty glass. She wasn't drunk, but she could feel the effects of the alcohol as it made its way through her system. She rocked the glass back and forth in her hand as if more drink would magically appear if she stared at it long enough.

Finally, she sat the glass down and waved to the bartender, who raised an eyebrow at her, a woman drinking alone on a weeknight. But she didn't owe him or anyone else an explanation. It wasn't like she would pour out her soul to some random stranger who could probably care less.

Despite his seeming trepidation, the man made his way over and poured her more of the snowplum brandy. She swirled the liquid in the glass a few times, watching it spin, which ultimately made her a bit light-headed. Finally, she swallowed the brandy and sat the glass down before turning on her barstool to take in her surroundings.

Not much in the way of a crowd tonight. After all, it was a Monday evening, and most were probably home with their loved ones. She smirked to herself. She would be home, too, if she had a home. Instead, here she was at some dive working a case cause she had to somehow put food on the table and pay the rent for wherever her next job took her.

She heard the scrape of the door opening, and her eyes flickered to the guy who had walked into the room. She didn't have to be told that this was her target. Curly blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smile that wouldn't quit had been the description she had been given. They weren't lying. He swaggered in like he owned the place because, from her understanding, he did.

Also, from her understanding, he was using the joint as a front for something nefarious. If her intel was on point. He had become infamous in underground circles known as the heartbreaker. Though he seemed good at keeping his head down and hands clean. SI:7 hadn't found a stitch of evidence on him or his operation in the months they had been tracking him. The only reason she had put two and two together was that she knew a guy who knew a guy. But isn't that how it always goes? And hellfire, she could always be wrong.

She slips off the barstool, moves forward as if she doesn't see the man, and bumps straight into him. He seems for a moment that he will yell at her until his eyes graze over her features, and she sees them soften. "You alright?" he says instead of whatever harsh words had almost come out of his mouth.

Pretending to have slipped, she had grabbed his wrist, her nails biting into the skin, though he seemed not to notice. Ellissay pulled back, and for a moment, his eyes caught hers, and damn it, but she felt herself stare back. Immediately, she broke the stare, genuine heat coming to her cheeks. "My apologies. I should watch where I am going or perhaps have a little less to drink on an empty stomach." She lets herself chuckle slightly.

She straightens herself up, and her hands slip from his wrist, and his lips curl into a grin as if she were a canary and he was a cat. She might have enjoyed the attention any other time, but not tonight. Tonight, she had business to take care of. She composed herself and once more apologized, trying her best to play coy, which, truth be told, wasn't her strong suit. Thankfully, he seemed to be in a hurry and didn't seem to notice.

She realizes he is speaking to her. "You sure you are okay, miss? Can I call a taxi service for you?" Ellissay shakes her head and tells the man it won't be necessary, and he nods and bids her good evening. He is gone, disappearing down the stairs. Which is just as well. The poison from her nails would take hold in about five to ten minutes. The plan was to ensure he was in his office when it took effect and passed out.

She turns toward the bartender and feigns a bit of embarrassment. "Your restroom, please." He points downstairs and to the left. And just like that, she has a reason for going downstairs.

She makes her way down into the dimly lit hallway, but instead of turning left, she makes her way right, following a sliver of light shining from beneath a closed door. She takes a deep breath, calculates how much time has passed doing the mental math, and takes several deep breaths before she pushes the door open, hoping it is the right room.

And there he is, passed out in the big chair behind a rather large desk covered in papers. Ellissay rushes over to the desk and scans the documents. She wouldn't have much time. Either he would wake, or the bartender would get suspicious if she didn't return. She pulls a small camera from a bag at her side and starts taking picture after picture. She would have to review the documents later to see if any were useful.

He stirred, and she knew she was running out of time. For a moment, she feels guilty about drugging a man who may or may not be innocent of any wrongdoing. But she had at least succeeded in tonight's plan. Perhaps tonight would prove him innocent, or maybe it would condemn him of the sins he had committed. Either way, her job was done.

@daily-writing-challenge

[aro-pancake-writes]

I finished it!

(almost) everything I wanted to say to Lillian. It's finally done!

Happening during Matters of the Hart, so some mild spoilers for it.

Tw: violence, deadnaming, language.

Truths to the Heart

"We don't have time to ask for backup." Lillian says, and Charlie gets up from their seat in a rage.

From the first time Sam told them about her, Charlie knew they wouldn't like her, but they put up their good face and deflect the subject.

But this is the end of their patience for that woman.

Cora stands at the door to the bridge, ready to butt in on Sam and Lillian's argument. Charlie sees her, and goes straight to her.

"Here kiddo, take this, go to my quarters and close the doors." They give her a music player and send her off. There's no argument as she understands that things are about to get ugly here.

They wait for the door to the bridge to close before stepping between Sam and Lillian.

"Enough." Charlie says, pushing Lillian away from Sam. "You, shut your hypocrite hole." They point at Lillian, anger stewing in their voice. "Sam, darling," they turn to him, calm and with a gentle smile, "I love you, and please don't be mad at me."

He looks at them confused for a second, as Charlie turns back to Lillian.

"Lils, dearest," they make their best overly sweet voice and put on a large smile, "don't you fucking dare to say shit."

"What do you know?" She scowls at them, crossing her arms ready for a fight. "And you can't call me that."

"It's my ship. I'll call you whatever the fuck I want to call you." It's becoming harder to maintain the smile. "If you want to not call backup, as per your own sayings, we'll drop Cora by at New Atlantis."

"We don't have the time! The Syndicate will–" Charlie cuts her off by raising a finger, smile dying as they stand up taller.

"Then you won't ever again bother us for taking Cora along. You won't ever again say anything about her tagging along. Ever." Lillian opens and closes her mouth like a fish. "You'll shut up until I drop you off back on Neon, so you can try to gaslight and bullshit your way out of any future trouble you get yourself into, but not in my ship."

"Who are you to say anything about how I parent? Do you have any ideas of the sacrifices I've made for her?" Charlie laughs. A good hearty laugh, like Lillian just told them the funniest joke ever.

"Sacrifices? Parenting?" They manage to say between laughs. "You don't know the meaning of the words."

"I was called out for reading Dumas by my colleagues, for heaven's sake." She tries, and Charlie manages to stop laughing.

"A sacrifice is stopping my own deep cover work to get rid of the Crimson Fleet to come and save your ass from the small fry, because Cora asked me to." They say, taking a step towards her. "A sacrifice is having you here because Cora was worried about you. I've been with her for less than a month, and I've been her parent more than you ever bothered to be in twelve years." There's a snarl, and Lillian looks terrified.

"Charlie, please, that's enough." Sam places a hand on their shoulder, making them stop. "She heard enough."

"No." Lillian says, bearing that cocky smile that Charlie wants to punch out of her face. "Let's hear what your new sweetheart has to say, Sammy."

How much more shit can come out of one person's mouth?

"What about the fact that you claim to want a professional distance from your coworkers, to the point where Jaylen doesn't know your daughter's name, but he knows everything about me and my accomplishments, that were sent to you by Cora?" They remember the way Sam was treated at the Neon Ranger post.

"What are you talking about? I talk plenty about my kid!" She tries, but Charlie ain't buying. "And so what I mentioned the stranger my daughter seems to like more than me? It's embarrassing!"

"EMBARRASSING?" Charlie shouts, anger taking over their senses. "Embarrassing is claiming you put your neck out to save someone, but doing it for your own selfish purposes. Is bailing on your daughter every time she tries to see you and then complaining that she likes someone else, who is actually there for her, better than you."

Lillian jumps at Charlie, going for a hit on their stomach. They manage to dodge and she slips, but doesn't fall.

"You just got here, Charlotte!" She screams, turning to come back at Charlie and hitting a punch to their face. "You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"I know what is going on." They smile, ignoring the blatant use of their given name and cleaning out blood from their nose. "Your priorities are anywhere but where they actually should be." Lillian turns for another punch, and Charlie lets her hit. "You're scared of accepting that you fucked up, so you hide behind your work!"

The third punch has them falling on their butt. Lillian jumps at the opportunity to sit on their waist and hold them down.

Sam's frozen in the back, unsure if he should try to remove Lillian from Charlie and draw the fire to himself or let Charlie deal with the situation, as he's well aware that they can. No one calls them “Charlotte” and gets away unpunished. Be it ignoring Walter until he uses Charlie, or leaving a good bruise if the person still insists on the name. But Lillian using the name makes him worry. They're already throwing fists. And Lillian's use was deliberate. With the intent of insulting and hurting them.

Charlie lets Lillian punch them, barely defending themselves. It's almost like they want the punishment for everything they're saying.

"You know that you lost Sam the moment Cora was born." Charlie continues, despite Lillian's barrage at them. "You lost your hold on him. The idea of love that you gave him. And now, that he's moving on, that someone else wants what you didn't want, you're angry. Because if you can't have him, no one can." They had enough of her, so they activate their powers, canceling gravity where they stand.

They watch as Lillian floats helplessly, while they're still grounded.

"How in the blazes–" the effect ends before she can finish her question, and she falls flat on the floor.

"Lillian, leave. Go find something else to do." Sam says, helping Charlie to their chair. He's cold, holding his own anger back. Lillian may have been offended, but it still didn't justify her attack on Charlie.

"I'm not leaving until we get to the Syndicate hideout." Lillian gets up, cleaning her jacket and standing there as if she didn't just beat someone up.

"Leave us alone." He says again, and she finally gets the message, grumbling all the way out of the bridge.

"It looks worse than it is." Sam kneels before Charlie, picking up a first aid kit and making them look up so he can see the injuries. There'll be some light bruising, but nothing a medpack can't fix. "But you didn't have to push that much, Charlie. Not if it ends up with you getting hurt like this."

"I had to." They say, licking at where their lip broke and a drop of blood spills out. "I couldn't stand the way she talked to you. Or how she thinks that the minimum effort is a massive sacrifice. For you and Cora."

"And that last thing you said?" He offers them a light smile. "You want me?"

Charlie looks everywhere but at him. If their face wasn't hurting so much, they'd probably be all smiles and blushes.

"Only if you want to try." Too late to not tell the truth. "I've been interested since we got that Artifact."

"Charlie," he takes a deep breath, cleaning a bad wound on their temple and adding a bandage, "why didn't you say anything before?"

They can't hold back the tears, not anymore. It's been something that they kept bubbling up since Akila.

"Because you only ever talked about her." Charlie gathers the courage and looks at his eyes. "I was there, flirting, trying to hide away that it bothered me. And every other word you said was about her. Praising her at every turn. I said it the first time that I was jealous, and it was true." They take his hand, making him stop.

"She's a good–"

"A good ranger, I know." Charlie tries to remain calm. "But she's an awful person, Sam. I'm not changing my mind on that. You said it yourself that she dismissed you, your feelings. And now that we're getting close, that I'm close to Cora, she wants back in. Even if not… romantically, if you don't feel the same way I do." That last part hurts, but it has to be said.

"I'll put an end to it, for good." He leans closer to them, cupping their face with his calloused hands. Charlie wants to feel safe, confident in his promise. "No more talking of Lillian. We'll finish this, get rid of her, and we can talk, ok?"

They nod lightly, taking a medpack that he offers them to get rid of the worse of the bruising.

Maybe, Charlie thinks, there's still hope for them to be together.

[matan4il]

OK stop you guys just made me spit my drink out laughing so hard. Ok so college drop and the line are you even a parent if your kid isn't embarrassed by you.

Here is the funny thing to me. Buddie will always be iconic and sexy. Like they could be wearing shirts saying "I am gay for him" pointing at each other and the straight women will still swoon. The straight guys will wonder, am I a little gay for them, I wonder what their workout schedule is, and it must be fun being in a relationship with your best friend. The gays will just turn them into gay icons and crush on them. All the students will be the same, like Chris, your dads are cool. And our Christopher will roll his eyes and say "you know they made me watch Toy Story 3 last night and cried the whole time".

Only Christopher and the lesbians will be like every calm down about these 2!!

XD Nonnie, I am so not funny, I just sometimes say stuff that makes me laugh, not expecting anyone else to laugh as well. (I sincerely wrote all of 'first day as a los angeles firefighter' just going, "This is so dumb, no one's even gonna read this, but who cares? My dumb ass is choking with laughter...") So you don't know how delighted I am that my silly line about 'are you even a parent...' made you laugh. *hugs*

This is so true! The idea that gay men are somehow less attractive to women is the dumbest shit I've ever heard, and LBR here, it only holds true for homophobic women. Every other kind of woman attracted to men is gonna look at these handsome, young, muscular, brave firefighters and lust on. I'm just gonna point this out, because I am still disgusted by the notion that celebs, even the most gorgeous ones, must stay in the closet lest they be less marketable. TPTB underestimate the power of a good lady boner. So allow me just to take a second to applaud any actor, musician and other celeb who came out in spite of this dumbass, homophobic notion.

And now that I'm done digressing, yes to this. I studied in a class where half the kids lived on an Air Force base, and came to our school because it was the nearest one to where they lived. All of us non-AF kids looked up to the dads of the AF kids! There was NOTHING these dads could do to stop them from being cool in our very young eyes... So it wouldn't even matter what Chris would say. "They made you watch Toy Story 3? God, I wish my cool firefighter dad would watch Toy Story 3 with me!" Poor Chris would feel so misunderstood. But it's fine, it would just make him closer to the other firefam kids. THEY get him. Together they'd spend entire afternoons arguing which one of their first responder parents is the least cool. Chris almost always wins, although Harry gives him a run for his money every time he mentions how Athena still calls him on occasion her baby boy...

Thank you and have a great day! As always, my ask tag. xoxox

[mirqmarq428]

Mir reviews:

Anchorman: the legend of Ron Burgundy

This is one of those movies that your dad shows you when you're 15 and he remembers it as good manly fun but you feel icky sitting thru it and feel bad for laughing at its jokes, then mostly forget about the bad parts when 5 years later you notice that it's free with your cracked youtube app. Just me? No. According to youtube, it's somehow rated PG-13. Different times, man.

Tl;dr: this one is worse than you remember. 4/10

le Plot:

Will Ferrell plays the titular protag-kun, a popular local news anchorman. His news team is a deeply closeted gay cowboy, this mostly reasonable cologne fanatic, and an autist whose IQ is canonically 43.

The actual protagonist of the film is burgundy's "love" "interest" whose name I forgot already since her name isn't on the poster. Her dream is to anchor on national news, and she will have to stand up to institutional sexism, personal misogyny, and casual sexual harassment at every turn.

She is hired on, the boys all make moves on her, she fights them back brilliantly. Ron doesn't just want her body, he "loves" her (meaning, he wants sex but would like to be all romantic about it). Through a fair amount of bullshittery mixed with some genuine chemistry, they hit it off and make out. This is shown thru a short interpretive montage of them riding white unicorns thru heaven over rainbow pathways.

Despite promising to keep their relationship private at work, our "hero" immediately brags to the guys and tries to explain how it feels to be in love.

One day disaster strikes as burgundy is late to work due to being a oblivious pretentious asshole (he throws a burrito out his window while driving and makes the motorcyclist next to him crash, then the biker throws his dog off a bridge as punishment). Despite the men's reservations, our hero fills in for her boyfriend and delivers the news. She's great and everybody loves her. Then Ron barges in and is horrified that a _woman_ (gasp) would take his job. They shout about their misunderstandings for a while.

Despite continuing to work together, their relationship worsens further. Eventually they physically fight, and he is fired and sinks into an alcoholic depression.

End of the movie. Time to shake things up. A panda at the zoo is giving birth, this is the biggest thing to ever happen and must be reported upon. She goes looking for the perfect angle, but a random evil reporter dude knocks her into the pen of Kodiak Bears. They can't find her so end up calling Ron. He glows up quick, gets the band back together, marches down to the zoo, find the girl in with the barely-sleeping bears, and jumps in like a dumbass. His dog returns from presumed watery demise and talks the bear down (dogs and bears share a language in this world ig). They get lifted out and he lets her report on the panda birth. The. Fucking. End. Carry on Wayward Son plays over way-too-short credits (there are lots of cameos I think weird als in this one but I can't find his name on well).

le Review:

4/10 do straight men really?

I liked: her arc. 43 IQ bro was a good guy. The vibe is mostly goofy and whimsical.

The male gaze here is overpoweringly putrid. Burgundy isn't the worst, but he's still pretty bad. There's a point early on when she points out to him that he has a very visible erection in the middle of the office and he hasn't even the sense to be embarrassed.

I guess his arc is accepting that women can be equals in the workplace even if they're sex objects.

I guess her arc is accepting that she can be in love with him _and_ achieve her dream.

"toxic masculinity" is not strong enough to describe this filum. This is Nuclear Masculinity, the all-poisoning radioactive cumstain of Gilgamesh himself (but even less gay somehow).

The ending is reductively egalitarian, to the point of advocating pure tokenism. Yeah this one woman is really good at her job so let's make her a public figure to feel better about ourselves. We care.

Ugh.

[deathskid]

SELF DEFENSE

why would you need pepper spray, when toji can show you how to defend yourself .. amongst other things?

➠ self defense teacher!toji x reader

➠ wc: 4.7k

➠ cw: unprotected sex, fingering, pussy slapping, praise kink, mating press, mirror sex, choking, orgasm control, brief mention of masturbation, groping

➠ click here to join my taglist!

MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DNI.

from the minute you stepped into his studio, you realized this was a mistake. you were new to the city. you recognized you needed a better means of defending yourself besides the pink can of pepper spray that dangled from your keychain. but you began wondering if you were better off with the expired aerosol rather than attending toji fushiguro’s self-defense classes.

there was no point in denying your interest in the raven haired man. setting eyes upon him, you saw why everybody gushed about his lessons.

on your first day in his studio, he commended you for how quick of a learner you were, but you rolled your eyes at his played out praises. his seductive demeanor was nothing shy of agitating. he flirted with every woman in the class, groping them with the excuse of “realistic measures”. their incessant giggling and skimpy clothing worked your last nerve, especially because toji entertained it.

however, as the weeks passed, you noticed that slight tingling in between your legs becoming more difficult to overlook. at first, you thought you were losing it, denying the tension brewing between the two of you. his sleazy passes at you and subtle sexual quips shot straight to your core, the arousal now impossible to ignore.

his praises started affecting you more and more. every time he called you “good girl”, your mind drifted to lewd places. you tried to swat away the obscene thoughts, but his crotch rubbing against your ass during drills didn’t help. it seemed as if he paid extra attention to you with each session.

when he corrected your form, you faltered as his palms lingered on your frame a few seconds longer than they should have. your breath hitched and heart skipped whenever he touched you.

you began wearing less to his classes. instead of leggings and an oversized tee, you started sporting short spandex and ultra thin tank tops. you convinced yourself it was only because you got hot in the studio, not because you wanted toji to notice your frame.

you weren’t totally sure why you were so hyperaware of the throbbing sensation in between your legs now, but everything toji did drove you closer to the brink.

whenever he spoke, you’d rub your thighs together, wondering how alluring his moans would sound while he’s stretching you out. the way he’d come behind you and whisper instructions in your ear made you wonder what kind of obscenities he’d whisper to you while shoving two fingers inside of you.

and his fingers. those thick and calloused digits that you always gawked at. it didn’t matter if he was just pointing across the room or touching you. you wanted them knuckle deep inside of your cunt, pumping in and out of your wet heat. you wanted to cum all over them and watch him lick your juices up.

if you showed up early to class, you’d be able to catch a glimpse of him changing his shirt in the back. god, you felt like a perv watching him through the cracked open door, but you couldn’t help yourself. you watched him remove his hoodie from his body, tossing it on the ground and replacing it with a thin t-shirt. your mouth watered as he revealed his godly pecs and abs, the light reflecting off of the thin sheen of sweat covering his body. and if you were lucky enough, his sweats would hang just a little bit lower on his hips, revealing his sharply cut v line and happy trail.

by the time class actually started, your panties were drenched just thinking about him and undressing him in your mind. it was embarrassing how much you anticipated him correcting your form. just to feel his hands burning into your flesh, his touch lingering on your skin long after he’d moved on.

when you got home, you’d throw your things down and immediately start working your cunt, furiously rubbing your clit and stuffing your fingers inside while you thought about him. he occupied your head almost every minute of every day. even at work, thinking about how his hand squeezed your waist when you got a counter right had you sprinting to the bathroom to get yourself off.

eventually, your fingers weren’t enough. you needed him inside of you. when he took water breaks, the way his adam’s apple bobbed with every sip had your mind hazy. the way he wiped the sweat from his forehead with his shirt. the way he made direct eye contact with you and spread his legs when he sat down. you felt dirty looking at his crotch, but his bulge was massive and hard to ignore, and you couldn’t even imagine what his print looked like if he was hard.

there were times when he caught you staring. your cheeks heated up with embarrassment, but he only grinned and chuckled to himself. he knew how flustered he made you. he knew what you daydreamed about during class. that’s why he’d go out of his way to check on you and use you for class demonstrations.

he’d bring you up to the front of the class and grope your body. he’d touch you in every way possible while he pretended to be an assaulter, letting you demonstrate your counters on him. it took everything in you not to drop down on your knees and suck him off in front of everyone. hours after class ended, you swore you still felt his hands roaming and squeezing your body.

and that one time he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder ignited something inside you. he did it so effortlessly, like you weighed next to nothing. your arousal was so strong, you thought he could smell the lust and desire oozing from your hole.

whenever he talked, you barely registered anything because you wouldn’t look anywhere other than those plump lips and that damned scar. you only thought about how good his lips would feel sucking on your clit and ravishing your sweet cunt. how he would kiss every area of your body and worship your skin with his tongue.

and his back. his wide and muscular back on display whenever he turned around. you saw the way his shirt clung to his body and outlined his muscles, imagining clawing his back while he fucked you. scratching your nails up and down as he pounded into your tight walls, hissing at the welts forming due to your clawing. all you wanted was to feel him stretching you out like no one else. to feel his hands exploring your body and learning its ins and outs.

“y/n? you payin’ attention?” toji’s voice snapped you from your thoughts. you blinked before realizing what was going on. the man stood in front of you with his arms crossed as you woke up from your trance. you glanced around the studio to see everyone stretching out in a child’s pose. you stammered and nodded, slumping to the ground and getting in the position.

but when toji came behind you to correct your form, you essentially freaked out and shoved him aside the instant his hands clutched your hips. you already suffered the embarrassment of zoning out thinking about him, but his hands on your body was the last thing you needed when trying to refocus. today was your breaking point.

“i don’t need your help to stretch out some fucking muscle, okay? i can do it on my own.” you snapped, being sure to keep quiet so only he could hear. your temper confused toji. you were normally mild-mannered and compliant during sessions. he wasn’t sure why you were so testy all of a sudden.

“relax, sweetheart. just tryna help you. spread those legs,” he said before walking away. your brain distorted the seemingly innocent remark. you knew what he meant, but erotic images of him plagued your mind. the thought of him spreading your legs open as he took off your panties, embedded in your head.

for the rest of the lesson, you kept interaction with him to a minimum, hoping to subdue the tension. he noticed how out of it you were. you were unfocused and blanking on things you should’ve known. he wasn’t sure what had gotten into you.

after class ended, you were gathering your belongings when toji instructed you to stay back for a while. your hands became clammy at his request, heart pumping rapidly because of how nervous you were.

“what’s going on with you today, y/n? your counters are all over the place and you aren’t focused.” he sighed, cleaning up the studio as he spoke. you huffed, leaning against the mirrored wall and crossing your arms.

“it’s fine, i’m just having an off day. i’ll be good by friday.” you replied, kicking at a torn piece of the mat.

“sweetheart, there are no ‘off days’ when you have to defend yourself. c’mere. you’re not leaving until you get this right, understood?” the added bass in his voice caused you to stand up straight, knowing he would not ask you again. you nodded and shuffled to the middle where toji stood.

you peered up at him as he hovered over you, his massive and bulky frame nearly blocking the fluorescent lighting of the studio. his black shirt clung to his chest, sweat decorating his collar and beading his forehead. you found yourself staring, internally berating yourself for finding such a sleazeball like him handsome. he was clearly teaching these classes to get pussy, not because he cared about the safety of women.

“we’ll start simple, alright? i come at you with a bear hug. what’s the first thing you do?”

“um, stomp on your foot and move my hips so i can hit your groin.”

“good girl. now, show me.” toji appeared behind you and secured his arms around you, pressing his chest against your back. he was so close, you felt his breath fanning your neck. it took everything in you to keep your composure, your ass brushing against his bulge as he got into position.

you inhaled and began your fight, grunting and kicking your legs in the air to escape his hold. his grip on you didn’t budge as you struggled to stomp on his foot, the studio filling with the sounds of his grunts and your heavy breathing.

“i know this ain’t all you got, c’mon.” your feeble attempts at escaping his attack bored toji. you became more frustrated with each passing second that he still held you. the irritation bubbled over until you eventually stomped on his foot, taking the opportunity and gently elbowing his groin. you exhaled and plopped down on the mat, not being able to celebrate the slight victory because you knew you were better than this, and toji did too.

“i know what you’re gonna say, so keep it to yourself. it shouldn’t have been that hard. i’ve countered trickier attacks, blah blah blah. i fucking know.” you waved him off, grabbing a sip of your water. toji chuckled and squatted next to you, emerald eyes boring into yours.

“so if you know, why couldn’t you do it?” he cocked his head to the side.

“oh my god, i don’t know. actually, i’m just gonna leave. i’ll be back friday, and i’ll have time to reset and practice.” as you stood up, he caught your wrist and pulled you down to the floor. you swallowed and glanced over at him.

“nah, lay down.you can do one more. if you counter this, you can go home. if not, you’ll stay for another thirty minutes until you get it right.” he pointed towards the mat, gesturing for you to lie down on your back. you rolled your eyes and complied, laying back with annoyance etched all over your face as he crawled on top of you.

“don’t look at me like that, fix your face. all i’m doing is helping you stay safe.” you resisted the urge to punch him, only because he was right. he didn’t have to help you at all. he should’ve let you walk out, knowing you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself properly. but he stayed until you got it right.

“i’m choking you, what’s the first thing you do?” his large fingers wrapped around your throat, being gentle enough so he wasn’t cutting off your air. even still, your breath hitched as he did so, arousal pooling in your core as you darted your eyes to the ground, hoping he didn’t sense your sudden shift in energy. you withstood the attraction before, but now that he was so close to you with his hand on your neck, the pulsing between your thighs became insufferable. your heart pounded against your chest, thudding loud enough for toji to hear as your mouth went dry. you became incapable of forming sentences as erotic images engulfed your mind.

“i- um… it’s…” you faltered off, lifting your arms to make a move.

“i know you didn’t forget. it’s the first thing i ever taught you, you can counter it.”

“what if i don’t want to?” you murmured under your breath, praying he didn’t hear. but he did. he heard you loud and clear. a smirk appeared on his face as he looked down at your flustered state, your hands settling on his forearm. he tugged you closer to him with his hand still resting around your neck. you gasped, finally lifting your eyes up to find his.

“don’t tell me you like it when i manhandle you like this.” toji cooed, fingers pressing the sides of your throat. you shook your head, trying to deny the obvious.

“n-no, i didn’t mean that.” you recanted, but the way you rubbed your thighs together told him otherwise. you only meant to say it in your head, not out loud.

“hm. maybe we should try a different approach.” toji leaned down closer to you, his face mere centimeters away from yours, the tips of your noses barely rubbing together. “maybe i need to fuck the lessons into you. don’t you agree?” rendered speechless, you whimpered and nodded, unable to peel your eyes from the scar decorating his lip.

toji crashed his lips onto yours, holding your chest against his as you arched into his touch. the two of you moved in sync with each other, his tongue lazily pushing its way inside of your mouth and swirling around yours. his free hand traveled down your body, grabbing and gripping at your flesh to see what makes you tick. when he reached your hips, a light sigh slipped from your mouth as he squeezed the plush skin. you gasped, moving back to tug on his bottom lip with your teeth. the air was heavy as you pulled away from the passionate kiss, your chest heaving as you caught your breath.

he pressed his mouth to your jaw, trailing wet kisses down to your neck and sucking on it. his hand traveled to your scalp, tugging your head to the side for better access as his pillow soft lips continued their attack. a string of curses fell from your mouth as you found yourself grinding down on his thigh, your cunt aching and needing more. after toji realized how needy you were becoming, he gripped your hips and slid you back and forth, your pussy dampening the fabric of his sweats through your spandex.

“toji, fuck,” you purred. he smirked into your neck, satisfied with your adorable reactions. toji sat up and pulled you into his lap. he took a moment to relish in your beauty before turning you around and holding your back to his chest. forcing your eyes to meet your reflection in the mirrored wall, he swiped his thumb across your bottom lip.

“look at how pretty you are.” he held your hands behind you with one of his, the other dipping beneath the waistband of your spandex shorts and underneath your panties.

“so fucking wet, baby. all for me too?” his finger teased your clit, moving up and down your folds to collect your arousal and circling the swollen nub.

“yes, tojiiii.” you drew out, nodding and bucking your hips into his fingers. he hummed to himself before pressing his thick digits at your entrance, gradually driving two into your warmth. your mouth gaped open, squeezing your eyes shut as your head fell on his shoulder. his digits moved in and out of you with leisure, making sure you felt him scissoring in and out of your cunt. you wanted nothing more than to grab hold of toji, but with your hands still held behind your back, you only sunk your nails into your palms.

“and look how easy my fingers go in.” toji was in awe of how wet you were for him, your tight cunt squelching around him as he pried you open. he pulled your tank top down, uncovering your braless tits to his gaze. “no bra either? it’s like you wanted this all along.” he snickered, caressing your breasts and rolling a nipple in with his free hand. his fingers curved up inside of you, massaging your g-spot as you moaned out his name.

“more, need more,” you sighed.

“if you can manage to free your hands, i’ll let you cum on my dick, sweetheart. you still have to learn your lesson, yeah?” he buzzed in your ear, his fingers moving faster than before.

“i c-can’t.” you stammered, your cunt squeezing his digits and sucking them in.

“aw, so you don’t want me to fuck this pretty little pussy?” you saw stars as he continuously assaulted your g-spot, struggling to pry your hands from his grip. he sneered, looking at your body in the mirror and watching you writhe as you continued your attempts to slip away. “that’s it. you can do it.” he coached, placing chaste kisses on your collarbone.

“open your eyes, look in the fucking mirror. i want you to see what i see.” he whispered. against your better judgement, you opened your eyes and fixated on your disheveled and vulnerable state. your breathing became more erratic as toji held your gaze through the mirror. embarrassment washed over. you looked crazy, squirming in his hold while he fingered you. you had dreamed of this moment, but now that it was actually happening, you felt small. you shook your head, fixing your eyes back shut.

“i don’t like it.” you mumbled in between moans, but that just pissed toji off. you thought he didn’t hear you, but he did. he was waiting for the right time to show you something different.

unbeknownst to you, he was slowly relaxing his restraint just for you to wriggle free. he didn’t want to be cruel and use his full strength on you—not when he needed to have your precious cunt wrapped around his cock.

miraculously, you slipped through his grip and freed your hands, immediately moving to lace them through his hair as his thumb pressed to your clit. he rubbed the swollen bundle of nerves, whispering praises in your ear and telling you how proud he was.

“i knew you could do it. i know how badly you want me inside of you,” he said. “but first…” he trailed off and grabbed you by your neck, removing his hand from your shorts.

“look in the mirror and say you’re beautiful.” he demanded, his chest heaving from irritation. he couldn’t believe you’d brought yourself to say you didn’t like what you saw in the reflection. you whined and shook your head, but your response earned a slap to your cunt. “say it, baby. you see how pretty you look all desperate for my cock?”

“i’m beautiful.” you murmured half-heartedly, but toji knew you didn’t believe it.

“you can do a lot better than that. try again.” another slap. you yelped and wiggled in his hold, tears decorating your cheeks.

“i look so p-pretty like this.” you sniffled, licking your lips as he soothed the stinging by rubbing your cunt through your shorts.

“yeah? one more time.” his hand rubbed faster, your clit brushing against the fabric sending you into a frenzy.

“‘m so pretty, fuck! toji, fuck me, please.” you cried out, that familiar maddening sensation creeping up on you. he halted his movements, pulling your shorts down and off of you. he gawked at your glistening cunt in the mirror, spreading your lips apart as your arousal oozed onto the mat below.

“so fucking beautiful.” toji took off his shirt and tossed it aside, twirling you around on his lap to face him. your hands roamed up and down his chiseled chest before moving down to tug at the waistband of his sweats.

“please,” you muttered, “need it.” he groaned inwardly at your soft plea, your doe eyes sending him into a frenzy.

“i can’t say no to that pretty face.” you leaned in to ravage his lips once more, tasting the pure hunger in his mouth. he wrapped his arms around you, gently laying you on your back as you draped your legs around his waist.

toji started grinding his bulge against your cunt. he reached in between your bodies and tugged down his sweats and boxers, his heavy cock drooping down and slapping his thigh. your mouth watered at his erection leaking with pre-cum as you anxiously grabbed his length and stroked it in your dainty hands, your fingers barely fitting around his sheer girth. you were so impatient; it was laughable. so eager for him to bury himself inside of your cunt, you guided the tip to your entrance, sliding it up and down your wet folds.

toji sank inside of your heat, both of you gasping at the same time at the tension finally snapping. he folded your knees to your chest to put you in a mating press as he bottomed out, his cockhead sitting snuggly against your cervix.

“so deep, oh fuck.” you whimpered, your eyes crossing as he dragged his cock along your plushy walls. he was splitting you in half, every inch of him plunging in and out of you was practically unbearable. you nibbled on your bottom lip, your cunt twitching as he started pounding into you.

“such a good fucking girl, sucking me in like that.” he admired, jerking his hips forward. your whining like music to ears, goading him on to keep his pace.

you thought the air was being knocked from your lungs with each ravenous thrust, his cock driving into you with no remorse. he cursed at how stunning you looked underneath him, your tits bouncing up and down and eyes swelling with tears. your swollen lips parted slightly as choked out moans and whimpers fell from them.

“feels s’good.” you cried, your fingers clutching his biceps as he fucked into you. “h-harder, please.”

toji didn’t hesitate to obey your request, brushing against that spongy patch in your walls as he rammed into you.

“you’re so greedy, baby. this—hah—this what you wanted? needed me to hit that spot right here?” he groaned, his cock mercilessly pounding into your g-spot. your jaw dropped as you looked up into his eyes that were covered by his hair. you didn’t have the strength to make any actual noise, only pathetic whimpers as you nodded.

“toji, pleasepleaseplease.” you begged, your fingers whipping in between the two of you for you to rub your clit, desperate to cum.

“didn’t i teach you about stamina, baby? you can hold it, can’t you?” toji smirked, looking down at his cock disappearing inside of you. you shook your head, whimpering as you crumbled under the pressure.

“hold it for me and i’ll let you get on top. that sound good? fuck, baby, this pussy is too fucking good.” toji grunted, lowering his face closer to yours as he wrapped a hand around your throat. reluctantly, you agreed, fighting the urge to squirm underneath his weight with each snap of his hips.

drool dribbled out of your mouth as you chanted his name like a prayer, staving off the orgasm that slowly tried pushing its way out of you. he basked in your sweet moans, coaxing him on to deepen his strokes as he watched how hard you tried holding it in for him—you were adorable.

“baby, you’re doing so good f’me, shit.” toji squeezed his eyes shut as his cock pulsed inside of you. your eyebrows knitted together as you mewled, moving your hands to play with your breasts.

“look at me, who’s a good fuckin’ girl?” he squeezed the sides of your throat as you opened your eyes.

“i-i am!” you cried out, gasping and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“who did good today, baby? hm?” his mouth found yours for a few seconds before he pulled back to let you respond.

“i did!” your tongue lolled out of your mouth as you wailed.

“tell me you’re a good girl.” his rhythm began to falter, cock throbbing inside of you as he pushed through. he fought his urge to cum inside of you, moaning out your name while your cunt gripped his cock.

“i’m a good fucking girl,” you said breathlessly. he moved his hand to squish your cheeks together and spit onto your tongue. you moaned and swallowed his saliva, sticking your tongue out to show him.

“fuck, i cant take it anymore. come on and sit on this dick.” he hissed, pulling his length out of your soaking wet cunt. he fought to push through, but imagining you on top of him and riding his cock wore his patience thin.

he rolled onto his back and grabbed your body so you could straddle his lap. after taking a moment to steady yourself, you gripped the base of his cock. you let a line of spit fall from your mouth to the tip, slowly stroking him before hovering over his erection.

you sunk down on his cock, taking your time as you held the base and mounted him. he seemed a lot bigger than before, splitting you in half as you took him to the head.

“there we fucking go.” he hissed, smacking your ass. a shiver ran down your spine as he twitched inside of you, even the slightest movement becoming too much.

“i can’t take it. too big.” you pouted, tears streaming down your face at the intrusion.

“don’t cry, baby. you can take all of it. i’ll help you, yeah? like this.” toji pulled you flush to his chest, gripping your ass as he moved you up and down. he started slow until you found a rhythm that worked for you, watching your cunt leave white cream all over his cock.

“good fucking girl. just like that.” he praised in your ear, pressing his lips to your neck. you moaned out, working your hips up and down on his cock as he guided you. the burning sensation slowly subsided and immense pleasure and bliss replaced it.

“so full.” you whispered

the way his tip pushed against your cervix had your cunt contracting. you were clenching around his length, a sign of how close you were, your choked out cries and moans reciting his name echoing through the studio.

“need to cum, f-fuck.” you wailed, nuzzling your face into his neck.

“already? cum all on this dick, baby.” he groaned, squeezing you tighter and holding you into place as he thrusted up into you. your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the pressure that had been building in between your legs boiling over suddenly. your body seized as you gushed all over toji’s cock and lower abdomen. he fucked you through your climax while high-pitched moans and cries fell from your lips. you chanted his name like a prayer as your poor cunt spasmed from the stimulation.

toji held you close as his own orgasm neared. right before his climax, he slipped out of your wet heat and painted your stomach white with his seed, cursing with each spurt of his thick cum dribbling out. he looked down at your blissed out face, grinning.

“i’ll let you rest for now. but when i see you friday, those counters better have improved. i don’t wanna have to punish you.” you sucked your teeth at his threat, lazily rolling your head to the side.

“punish me? whatever.” you quietly giggled, brushing him off.

“i would hate to have to stay after every class with you, drilling those counters into that pretty little head…“ he paused, grinning and grabbing your chin to face him again, “or maybe a few more rounds tonight will help.”

[sukunasun]

Thinking about how Geto was only going to ask that chubby reader out so Mahito wouldn’t get the chance to fuck with her, only for her to find out about it after really hitting it off with Geto… ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵐᵃʸᵇᵉ ᵐᵃᵏᵉᵘᵖ ˢᵉˣ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒᶦⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʷᶦᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᵉᶜᵒⁿᵒᵐʸ

read the prologue here!

when geto makes those first steps towards you, walking into your light and seeing for the first time a woman who's unlike any other, he doesn't feel like he could say the same things. doesn't whisper all the dirty things he wants to do you or the empty promises he won't keep. doesn't make you swoon and flatter you like he does with everyone else because ultimately it wouldn't work. you weren't that kind of girl, and he shouldn't treat you as such. or rather he can't.

and he believes himself to be the lesser evil here, that he does it to protect you from impending heartbreak but won't admit there's a selfish inkling in him. no matter the reasons he tells himself, the excuses that ease his conscience, he knows he does this because no one else can have you. 

pictures you with another man and feels an unease stirring, a jealous thing prickling all over. with mahito scheming his way into your heart. or maybe with gojo who'd make you laugh and buy you pretty things. either way, he knows they'd be better choices because they possess a whole lot more self-control to definitely last longer than a week before falling in love. whereas geto’s already having expectations, yearns to leap straight into your depths, diving deep the moment he comes close.

you’re ethereal, godly, a beauty that is untouched. all full curves and eyes so honest, you don't try to hide it. a keening gaze peeking under glittering makeup. one that looks through to him. a face so visually stimulating, so incredibly stunning is he—wandering over the line of his nose coming down to a fine point, the bridge resting between trimmed eyebrows. loose strands of hair falling over his face, you itch to brush it aside, to feel just how soft it is. all that beer in his system making him bloom red, it lingers on his neck, on collarbones peeking underneath a muscle tee, hollowed and arched. calling out for you leave a mark there, darkening maroon over his pink flush.

you’re aware that he was speaking, aimed at you. stop staring, you know his name, call him geto—"wow, you're really tall–" is what you utter instead. a second later, your skin heats from embarrassment at your own lack of manners. "i'm s-sorry, i didn't mean to be rude." so caught up in him you don't notice when you're about to slip, tripping over heels that barely give you any height compared to him.

with his stature towering over you, his hands come up to steady you in an instant. “i got you,” he says, and it sends your heart racing because he’s so close, your noses almost touching, his lips less than an inch away from yours. you've seen them smirking, smiling, parted around the laughs that rise from his belly, bright teeth lighting up a face that's hard to resist, the same face that stole your heart tonight, the very moment he locked eyes with you, and you didn't think it was possible to fall any harder. 

you hide your face behind your drink, biting your lip over a woozy smile but it only adds to that growing attraction he feels, how endearing you were that he’s blushing. actually blushing. when has he ever felt this need to be protective, possessive over a complete stranger? 

he's always been able tell a person's motives, wishing for his affection and attention just until the high wears off, until the adrenaline dies down and they're coming to their senses. realization hits the morning after and it's blinding. so revealing in broad daylight—the stench of cigarettes in the air, his body aching with something sickly, guilt drooping his shoulders and regret pouring down the lining of his lungs like syrupy black treacle. caught in heavy sighs, in his pounding head, in a clenching chest when they say something along the lines of "that was fun, but i'm not looking for anything serious right now"—living happily ever after will never be on his cards and you were going to see it the same way eventually. reminds himself he's not meant to have women like you, who wear angel costumes, who thinks this was the start of something special, that you’re meeting the love of your life and believes him to be worthy of it. 

——————————————————

so geto falls for you after three dates.

well, he never called them dates. just took you to random places he'd thought you'd enjoy and he wanted to keep doing it—the first one had to be a classic; a movie then dinner afterwards, he chose to watch an animated film because he can't be bothered pretending to like something pretentious, then an afternoon at a cafe but the kind that serves good food and isn't just an instagram trap, and last week he made you a playlist, one that he titled after your name and had you listening to it in his car on a loop—by the time the fourth one arrives, he invites you over to his place. 

a black cabin that's modern and sleek, he tells you he enjoys the seclusion and calls it his little utopia in the woods. he's balanced the wooden accents with warm lights and giant glass windows that bathes the room in natural sunlight, some furs for his bed compliment the woven rugs, and he's left his books all over the floors, opened and laid flat on its pages, a sweater or two on the couch, there are empty beer cans lining the countertop, and in the corner, his guitar lays dormant on its back. “sorry for the mess,” geto calls from the kitchen, already preparing you a cup of tea. but you think it just looks like a place that’s lived in. it’s his home. 

plus there's a pool. the kind that has a built in jacuzzi and the water flows over the edge to give the appearance of it extending to the horizon. looking out, you take in the view of mountains lined with silver moonlight, blue and green reflecting of the surface, dark blacks in the shadows and jagged edges, trees rooted tall and mingling with fog. the cicadas are chirping and city lights dance in the distance, far away. there are a millions stars shining above tonight but you only want to watch him, lazing around in the blue.

geto dips below once before his head crests over the surface, coming up for air and propping his feet at the very bottom. it's deep, but the water only comes up to his sternum. it ripples beneath his large hands as he brings them up to slick his hair back. “the water’s nice, you should join me,” he says, coming closer towards you with slow, measured steps, wading through with ease. a playful glint in his eye warns you of the night to come and you feel that familiar heat dipping low. thinking of the nasty things that shall ensue, your fantasies coming to life here, in geto’s house, alone, in the middle of nowhere.

knowing where this will possibly lead doesn’t help your nerves, this the defining moment of any relationship, the part where everything becomes official. you'd sleep with him tonight because geto's the kind of person who teases, makes you stutter over your words, pinches your cheeks and calls you beautiful when you know that's hardly ever the case. but every time he looks at you, trailing behind your every step, worshipping the ground you walk on, it’s obvious he cares for you. there was no way he wouldn't put you first and make you come til you saw stars.

but you shake your head in protest, curling in towards yourself and trying to look anywhere besides his half naked form. reduced to staring at your legs dangling from where you sit, gently kicking underwater. when he’s meeting you at the edge of the pool, he brings your knees apart, keeping your legs locked behind him before placing his palms flat by your sides, tilting his head to meet your eyes, “what’s the matter, do you feel shy?” he asks, a smirk breaking over his face. 

your chest rise and falls with bated breath. spotting the drops sliding down his face in rivulets, caught in his eyelashes, clear and reflecting off the pool lights below. dripping from his chin, it runs down his broad chest and his scent alone is intoxicating. smelling of chlorine and something crisp, wet. like drenched earth soaked by a beautiful, luminous, magnetic rain after a long drought. dry juniper berry, patchouli, green leaves and moss. you wish to say yes, because he really does make you shy and aroused and impulsive and all these feelings you can’t control. “i'm sorry but we can’t have sex tonight–” you blurt out.

a confused look crosses his face, "who said anything about sex?"

"isn't that why you invited me over?" you ask in return, giving him the same puzzled look. one that turns more flustered as the realization dawns on you. had this been a one-sided thing all along? took one look at your body as it is now without the snug shapewear or the pretty fabrics and felt mortified, all your curves on display, squishy thighs and your tummy folds pressed up against his abdomen. you're surprised you ever thought this night was meant to be more than what it was; just time spent with him, in this undefined thing you can’t put a name to. 

geto breathes a heavy sigh and cups your face in his hands, looks right into your eyes so you know he means it, "i brought you out here because i like being around you and i like being with you. you don't have to do anything you don't want to," he clarifies, serious but gentle. 

it doesn't do much in assuring you. "but i want to be yours,” you admit, albeit softly but he hears the dejection, "and how would i know you're mine? that you aren't seeing someone else."

in the the silence that follows, his thumbs slowly caress over your cheeks squished between his palms. anything to wipe the sad look off your face. "i've been yours all along." he whispers, thinks he couldn’t be more obvious. you’re in his old t-shirt that bears his scent, now it rubs off on you. spilled over your body so you tied a knot at the side, tightening it around your breasts, nipples peeking through from the cold. it stirs that same greedy, selfish feeling within him—the image of you in his clothing, those thoughts of sleeping with him swimming in your head, he wants to hear them—there was no way he'd think of being with anyone else, let alone sleep with them, not when you existed. not when he spends every sleeping and waking hour dreaming of you. 

he wouldn’t fuck you for his own self-indulgence, he’d want to do it right. all on your own time, your own terms. pin your hands over your head and make love to you, slowly rutting over and over until you begged him to stop. he'd make you feel so beautiful that you wouldn't need to question it ever again. not to mention that he'd already plan to cook you breakfast in the morning should you decide to stay the night, left your favourite snacks in his fridge, brought in fruits from the farmers market for you. "will you be mine?" he whispers to you, and only you.

a simple nod was your answer, hands coming up to wrap around his neck and you lay a kiss right above his adam’s apple, sealing the deal. 

——————————————————

the first time was a revelation, how he realized halfway as he's thrusting into you that he owns you. and he fucks you like he knows it.

you had been so skittish, so hesitant. shy smiles and turning your face away every time he'd get so far as to leave a kiss on your forehead, squeeze your thigh as he takes you on a night drive. you resisted but he felt the heat and the rising goosebumps on your skin, heard you shuddering and stifling your moans, biting into your lip. you're absolutely hooked and he'd only stay patient as he unravels you bit by bit.

until the day comes when you're waking him up in the middle of the night straddling him, grinding your panties over his tightening boxers, over the bulge that forms. his cock hardening as he stirs awake to the sight of your sweet pussy, so wet and needy for it, leaking through the fabric and staining his, trying to get as much of him inside you. your trembling legs can't keep yourself up for long as you rock back and forth, already desperate to rest on his chest and succumb to him, having him pound into you and you’ll take it like the good girl he believes you to be. "i want you to touch me," you pout at him, voice wavering and uncertain, a little hoarse from having just woken up, unsurprisingly, from a wet dream. one starring the man below you who's struggling to keep his composure. oh he's ruined you and he knows it, swears then and there that he'd give you more than just his touches, wonders what he'd ever done to wake up to this; a new side he's pulled out of you, coming to the surface just for him. 

the doubt in your eyes wounds him, preposterous is the thought that you weren’t enough, that you didn’t deserve him when he’s a man who’s selfish and perverted and he takes and takes from you, like he's defiled and made you into a horny little thing. he should thank every god and deity for being in your presence, that he gets to taste your skin and kiss your lips, hear your moans singing out for him and it kills him. with sweat beading on his forehead, he uses every fiber of his being to hold it out. constantly feels like he's on the edge, like a rubber band about to snap in an instant because you're gripping him so tight, squeezing down every time he pushes in but it's only because you love it so much. makes you feel so full and stretched out and no one has ever gotten this far with you, no one had ever wanted the chubby girl who kept her nose in her books, always the biggest person in every room, never going after the guys she liked for fear of rejection. what had he seen in you at that party, you'll never know, but geto suguru chose you and it's all you ever need, it's why you keep looking up at him like he's hung the moon and stars for you. where all you feel is his pounding heart beneath your fingers, the words he snarls into your skin as he grinds and bucks his hips. he's going to break you. absolutely wreck you.

geto had expected to feel guilty about it, that he wouldn't be able to follow through, yet every time he breathes in your scent, hears his name leave your lips, feels the way you’re clawing into his back, fingernails etching in lines over his tattooed skin, the beautiful, pure, almost unearthly thing that you are makes his cock weep with the need to claim you fully, to worship your body, live inside you. that would be heavenly, to always be buried inside his angel and say fuck you to the world, he’d only need this, now and forever. 

and he can't begin to tell you any of it. like he's going to lose his mind if he gives in, his entire world now found in your pleading face, your soft voice, "i'd do anything for you," you beg and he sees the hearts floating in your eyes, admiring him, fawning and adoring. "you're so beautiful, you're so perfect," you cry out, swollen lips forming around the words. tear stained cheeks puffing out, rounded hands, smooth and soft trailing down his neck, goosebumps rising to meet your fingertips. leaving behind these trails that burn his skin, settling deep in his bones like a balm, these soothing, healing touches that make him groan and whine like a wounded animal from how good it feels, how he's been longing for it so much that he doesn't want it to end, forget about wishing or hoping, he'd put the work in and beg for it. and he wants to so bad. wants to love you with everything he's got.

——————————————————

the night of his birthday party rolls around and despite wanting a quiet night in, geto’s unable to escape the onslaught of questions about it.

so he sends out invites via text, quick fingers tapping away, a swooshing sound dings, it reads: ‘party at 8, byo drinks’. all to people he isn’t close to nor would he care if they’d showed up. this way, there wouldn’t be a clash of interests, doesn’t like mixing his circles of peers for that very reason because it would be like sending you into a lion’s den. these are not the kind of people who would be friends with you and he would know this because all anyone wants to do is get distracted with the superficial. plus, he used to be one of them too. ‘used to' being the keyword. past tense. but he’s yet to actually be rid of them. 

still, you make your way over to his place to surprise him because that's what any loving person would do. simmering with excitement, you find geto by the pool, the one with the jacuzzi and the beautiful view, the one that's too deep for you, the one that held the memories of the first night spent with him. moving a little closer to where he's lounging on a deck chair, you keep out of geto’s sight. 

among the crowd, you don’t recognize every face but mahito’s is hard to miss. it’s pretty, the kind that reminds you of idol singers and fashion models. but looking into his eyes from afar, you see no sign of emotion, glazed over with pure apathy. always hiding in dark corners and whispering in people’s ears, disguising his unsolicited, wicked comments behind a cheery voice. “i didn’t think you’d show up,” he says innocently, or rather what he believes sounds innocent when you can read through the sly expression on his face.

you cross your arms, keeping your narrowed eyes on him. “of course i’d be here, i’m his girlfriend.” you reply. at the sound of your voice, geto shoots up from his seat immediately, eyes widening and his face taking on a flush that clearly said he hadn’t expect your arrival.

mahito brings a hand up to geto’s shoulder, pulling him closer whilst scanning your figure head to toe. he smirks, sipping his drink. how sweet. calling yourself 'his girlfriend' seemed like the kind of thing you would do, as if you were still a teen and that these labels meant something. out of all the types of women he’d like, you were his favourite. pure of heart, always so willing to believe in love and the fantasy of it. he could see why geto wanted to keep you all to himself and he doesn’t ignore this fact, instead, he thinks he should do something with it, messing with your feelings just because he can. “you know it was all a bet right? he only asked you out because i told him to,” he says, a smug look appearing on his face. 

initially, he'd forgotten about the whole thing, which isn't surprising because nothing peaks his interest for long. wasn't actually going to act upon whatever bullshit he was spouting to geto that night because it was all in good fun, to plant the seeds of disillusionment in him because he's always been an easy target. it's his fault really for having you as a weakness. mahito continues to relay his conversation with geto that night. gives you a wide smile throughout as if he's actually enjoying the way your face drops, resolve crumbling the more he goes on. geto on the other hand stays exactly where he is. doesn’t fight back or tries to deny it and mahito relishes at how powerless he is, what a coward, the man can’t even say it with his own words. 

you don’t look away from geto, hoping that he’d say something to dispute these claims. where was he, where was the man you love. “he wouldn’t do that, he cares about me,” you defend him, because the man mahito speaks of is not at all like the geto suguru you know.

“are you sure about that?” mahito questions and your heart sinks. of course you were sure, although you didn't know anymore. doubts igniting and spreading through you like a wildfire. uncontrolled, consuming any belief and assumption you had about geto all at once. 

your plan to surprise him on his birthday—spent hours imagining all the ways it’d be perfect, show up in a dress you made knowing he’d like it and he could touch as much as he wanted, smell that expensive perfume on your neck, you’d kiss his cheek and leave the sparkly gloss behind, you’d make him dread it a little less, make his wishes come true—all of it flushed down the drain with just five words. 

with eyes dart back and forth between the both of them, you plead, "please tell me it isn't true," on the verge of tears, you bite the inside of your lip to keep from welling up. 

“it’s not what you think,” geto finally speaks but he doesn't have the guts to look at you, and you see the guilt plastered across his face, paralyzing his body and keeping it rooted there. not only proving mahito speaks the truth but that your entire relationship had been a lie.

“i’m really sorry you had to find out this way, but let’s be honest—” mahito laments, walking over to where you stand and you don't feel a semblance of warmth when he leans close to your ear, humming at your obvious discomfort, and whispers “—he was never going to fall for you.”

in a split second, a jarring flash of red splatters everywhere. there's a loud gasp from the crowd, then a scream. as the music starts to muffle in your ears, every guest clambers towards the scene, wanting to get every bit of the action. 

geto snaps and all hell breaks loose. mahito is raised from where he lies flat on his back, collar fisted in geto's grip. blow after blow, he repeatedly throws punches til he feels something give under the brute force of his knuckles, splitting flesh and clashing against bone. every impact bringing a thudding sound along with it. there are lines of hot blood running down mahito's face, pooling in his mouth, in between his teeth when he gives geto a sinister grin before he passes out on the cold ground.

——————————————————

the family mart down the street is heaven on earth on nights like these.

steam puffs from the aluminium lid of the instant ramen set before you and despite your efforts in keeping it completely sealed, the sides pop out anyway. still, you take in the smell of spicy broth and vegetable flakes, in just a few minutes you'll be greeted with the taste of salty, peppery goodness, chewing on thick strands of noodles and fine cuts of donko mushroom. always consistent, it'll never disappoint. and it's the only comfort you get tonight. that and the burning heat in your fingertips when you hold on to it tight, hoping it'll soothe the ache a little. the fluorescent lights are too bright, emitting this white light that does nothing to hide the hot tears that drip, your sniffling nose, and the smudged makeup. all of it coming undone.

you catch your reflection in window and realize that you look every bit a woman in distress, definitely pitiful and pathetic, but ultimately like someone who's heartbroken. even more so when the kid working the cash register keeps looking over at you with a worried expression on his face. 'TOGE', as his name tag reads, works by the front, he stirs fishcakes in the boiling oden and arranges the onigiri in the freezer while the two other staff members are pretending to stock biscuits behind you. they’re not the best at being discreet.

everything sucks and everything hurts. but at least the noodles are done. 

“you’re going to burn your fingers,” a hand reaches out to grab yours and the first thing you see are his knuckles, raw and bleeding. that familiar jolt runs through you and you look up to see geto with blood splatters on his white shirt. instinctually, you reach out to him with your other hand before you could tell yourself to stop, thumb brushing over his wounds with barely any pressure. geto melts into your touch then, brings your clasped hand up to his cheek and closes his eyes, savouring the residual heat from the noodles, your soft flesh upon his, every bit of you he can get.

“you can let go-" you try to pull away—

“no, i won’t,” he snaps. so weak is he to want this, he needs it. could never be like you when no amount of instant ramen or late night snacking would ever comfort him. “i can't," his voice drops to a quiet whisper.

"please, i'll just pretend none of this ever happened." you whisper back. hoping that maybe if you didn’t think about it, it’ll be like it never existed. geto would have just been a blip on on a radar, gone as soon as it came. 

he latches on tighter, “don’t leave me,” he chokes, “you said you’d do anything for me.” your fingertips buzz, going numb in his grasp. he’s clinging for dear life. you’ve never seen him this beaten, still the same man, but one who’s defenseless, desperate because he knows what's coming and he can’t bear it, you’d survive this. come out the other end knowing better, while he’s second guessing if he’d ever go on living a life without you.

“that was before,” you yank it away reluctantly at his words. “and you can’t just throw it back in my face like that, i said it because i loved you and i thought you lov–” you bite your lip and swallowed thickly, that lump in your throat keeps forcing it’s way up, every exhale is forced and it takes so much within you not to sob. he was never going to fall for you. a stray tear falls and it’s hot against your cheek, "just forget it." your voice cracked, hand rising up to wipe over your burning eyes. 

“he was going to hurt you, angel,” your heart almost stops when the name falls on your ears and geto seems to realize it too, “i meant that night at the party–” he explains, “you were dressed as an angel, he was going to ask you out and i couldn’t let it happen.” his voice croaks out like he's accepted defeat. for some time, he thought he’d be able to hide the truth from you forever because you were happy, and so was he. it’d be enough to have you, consequences be damned, he’d only wanted to hold on to it for as long as he could. 

"you made me believe you had feelings for me, that you liked me," you sobbed then, crying openly without a care if a customer walked in, or if they saw you from across the street. the staff is probably watching with shocked, gaping mouths right now, but this was the end and you would let it out. you had to. 

“i did it for you, had you fallen for him, what then?" fuck, he doesn’t want to think about it. looks at you with eyes that are reddened and weary. the pain and exhaustion starts to creep up, his body aching. the remains of adrenaline from the fight wearing off and souring in his bloodstream. the room starts to spin, he has to get to a hospital asap but the last thing he cares about is broken bones or bruises when he's utterly hopeless.

in a last attempt to salvage the situation, he reaches out towards you. it can't end like this, not in a convenience store, not on his birthday, not when everything is unfinished and unspoken and left to be buried down. he'll explain it all. who cares about the bet, he knows his feelings were real. he has to tell you how he feels, now or never.

but you flinch from his hold, swatting his hand away. "i’m perfectly capable of making my own choices, so you don't have to worry about me anymore," you say, stern and with finality. turning away from him and walking out. leaving him and the overcooked noodles behind.

——————————————————

"i didn't think you had it in you," is the first thing shoko says during the last ten minutes of his birthday. they're both leaning against the hood of her car in a hospital car park after she’s dressed his wounds. barely felt any semblance of pity for him the way she rolled her eyes before stretching her gloves on and doing what she does best.

"yeah, well, he saw it coming," geto shrugs dismissively, flips open a pack of menthols and offers it to her like old times. only one though because these were expensive—he thinks he’s been charged extra for them after causing such a scene ( ‘TOGE’ who works the cash register apparently has little patience for terrible men who make their girlfriends cry)—and also because shoko’s a doctor, they aren’t meant to consume these things and get away with it. 

the air smells like a heady mix of disinfectant and tobacco. she takes a long drag, then exhales smoke, flicking off ash gathered at the end. "i would understand breaking his nose, but did you really have to give him a concussion?" her lips quirk up at the corners, thinking back to the last few hours spent stitching an unconscious mahito’s face, staples down his jaw holding skin together. he’d survived, she thinks, although she isn’t a hundred percent sure about it either. for his sake, better if geto doesn’t see him alive and well, shoko doubts it’s last time it’ll ever happen. 

"how was i supposed to know he'd black out," geto doesn’t show any sign of remorse in his expression, no guilt or regret in beating the shit out of him, his intention clear and written all over his face. he wanted that man dead.

annoyed, she clicks her tongue at him, "tsk, you're a real piece of work you know that. why'd you do it?" it would be easier if this had been an accident, shoko has only ever seen him this distressed that one time him and gojo had a fallout. only gets like this when push comes to shove and geto's about to lose the most important thing in his life. which could only mean—

"would you believe me if i said i did it for love?" geto says without any hint of mockery. she looks at him for a second, gauging if he really means it and comes to find him sighing with his entire body, a face reminiscent of his younger self is reflected off the windshields, so lost and unsure. come to think of it, she doesn’t remember a time where he’s ever looked any different in the last few years. 

“fucking hell,” she breathes out, laughing until her shoulders shake. he's unbelievable.

geto smiles and chuckles along with her, “it sure feels like it,” doesn’t mind her unsympathetic bedside manner here knowing he’s made her put up with a lot. he brings his cigarette up, inhales, then blows a final drag out, letting it seep through his parted lips in a steady, flowing stream. the seconds count down to the final minute and geto uses the very last of it to confess, “i fucked up, sho."

shoko nods to show that she's heard him. still, she doesn't ask for the details and she never gets personal. “well, it happens to the best of us. either you move on or you try again i guess.” geto doesn’t need a shoulder to cry on, she’s never been his rock or his partner in crime and it’s not about to start happening now. not when gojo’s still out there being the mopey son of a bitch that he is. if only they just talk about their issues instead of having her stuck between these two and their antics. 

“happy birthday suguru, take care of yourself,” shoko stubs her cigarette on the ground and the last of it’s flame dies out on the asphalt. orange light fading into nothing. 

——————————————————

months later, geto lays out a picnic blanket by the lake. yellow gingham beneath your tucked feet, there are threads fraying on the edges, old and worn but soft to the touch. it compliments the sundress you wear, lilac off the shoulder, you tug at the hem wishing you had chosen something a bit more modest the way it keeps riding up your thighs.

it feels so nice like this, comfortable, content. your lips quirk up as you breathe it all in, hair billowing in the wind, your fingers gently comb them away, sighing when it tickles your skin, the sound of babbling water and the smell of grass accompanies the two of you. it makes being in his presence less awkward after it's been the one thing you were dreading. the fact that you decided to meet him here today was already more than he'd expected given that you had all the right to move on and never speak to him again. 

under the shade of a tree, he watches you the same way he did that night at the halloween party. “you’re beautiful,” he whispers, avid and breathless. "you were then, and you are now—the most beautiful thing i've ever seen.”

in the corner of your eye you see his jaw clench, breath hitching, saying it has never felt this remorseful. “i never wanted to hurt you." he admits and you look to him then, seeing him reach over and gently cup one of your hands in his. the same hands that were broken and bleeding and brutal, now healed and his skin made anew. "i know i made it seemed like it was for your own good but..." he trails off, clenching and unclenching his grasp, rubbing over your knuckles, hand still firm in yours. "i went into it knowing i'd fall for you and i did. i told you i was yours and i meant it, all of it, nothing was an act.

in the distance, a storm starts to brew. and right here, vulnerable and bare, geto rights his wrongs. —"i'm sorry," he says once, then again, and again, until he chokes on the words, until the first drops of rain hit your shoulders and mask his tears but you reach out to cup his face then in a rush, clambering into his lap and you don't hold back, deciding then and there to allow yourself this; the warmth of his embrace, the shape of his body against yours, to accept him fully, to forgive.

you clutch him tightly, fingers going numb but you weren't bothered, if it were up to you, you’d never let him go again. “i choose you geto suguru—you're all i want, my heart is yours, i'm yours," through a hoarse throat, you cry out what you both needed to hear and you kiss him for the first time in months. two lips meeting like parted lovers, earnest, passionate. teeth clashing, breathless and sobbing and with everything you have. tasting like rain and sweet, sweet, absolution.

——————————————————

geto stares at you from where he's sitting on the edge of his bed, toweling his damp hair. as the thunder continues to roll and rumble in the distance, rain pelts against the large window overlooking grey and cloudy skies. lightning strikes through sporadically, lighting up his dim room with flashes. you keep your eyes glued to your feet, completely wet from head to toe, your skin dripping and hair a little frizzy in places. random strands sticking to your cheeks and neck, and within moments, those bits would feel like icicles and so would the smooth wooden floor beneath your feet. 

"c'mere," he demands, but softly, only once. not wanting to hear your protests and your feet move on their own volition, all to the sound of his beck and call. makes those few heavy steps towards him, pitter, patter. anxiously but your body knows he means no harm, that he’s the only man you could give into and he’d only care for you because geto brings you leg up and props it between his thighs then. wraps a hand around your ankle before caressing it there. my ankle, this belongs to me, along with every other part of you. he starts to pat you dry, soft cotton gliding up your shin, up the back of your knee, all while his hand massages your flesh, inching upward toward your thigh then finds his place under your dress, over the curve of your ass. 

“i'll show you just how much i want you," he'll prove it, if not with his words then with his hands. caresses, kneads, then squeezes the soft globe of your ass that fits in the palm of his hand, large and warm against your skin. "how much i desire you–" geto's voice comes out raspy and low, sends your body shivering as his hands start pulling your dress off. peeling it at gradual pace. the hem rising to reveal your soft thighs, you keep them close together, getting shy when he sees in between them, your panties are soaked through. from the rain obviously and not because he has that effect on you. 

you grab onto his shoulders, timidly murmuring "does this count as our first time...officially?" his movements come to a complete halt then, leaning back to look at you with a stern, almost offended look on his face.

geto chose not to answer you, but instead lifts you by the hips and sets you down on his mattress with a little force. a tiny squeal leaves your lips as he pins you there, his knees on either side of you and an impatient, hungry look upon his face. the kind that makes you melt all over as your legs part on their own. the growls rumbling in his chest rings through you and lightning flashes, his greedy hands, fisting, scrunching your dress into a damp, flimsy thing he pulls it down your breasts with little effort. letting them free, the fabric stretches to its limits before being ripped down the middle, unveiling you like a meal he's been craving for. starving. 

he presses his tongue flat against your exposed nipple, lapping softly before bringing it between his lips and suckling gently. “you think i’d let you forget what we did that night?” he taunts, breath blowing against it, your goosebumps rising along with the tension in your belly, a heat coiling when you know exactly what he's hinting at. remembering just how perfect you were that night under him. he’s gripping your hips tight in an almost painful hold and pulls you in closer, “should i remind you?” he grits out and you feel his bulge pressing into your center, hot and throbbing, his blood pulsing through, hips bucking and rubbing himself against you.

in that moment, you reach up, burying your fingers in his hair and pulling him in until his forehead gently settles against yours and geto keeps your gaze. watches your lustful eyes and panting breath, “there’s no need,” you say, “we’ll do it better this time,” you kiss him, slow and lingering, on his lips, then his chin, a peck on the line of his jaw, and finally, over his adam’s apple, sealing the deal, again, and again.   

——————————————————

the rain doesn’t stop, instead, it only gets heavier, coming down with harsh winds by the time he’s flipped you over, placed you flat on your stomach beneath him and murmurs "you're gonna lose your voice," right above your ear, stopping mid-thrust and taking in the dazed expression on your face. reduced to a tipsy, drunk mess, heavy lidded eyes peering up at him. blissful and hypnotised, your mouth parted around breathless moans, babbling and incoherent when all you can think about is the shape of him inside, snug and slick and all yours.

geto reaches over for a bottle of water on the nightstand, one he's placed there knowing he'd need it when he’s always turning into a heated, sweaty mess around you, losing his mind, his stamina extending for hours and hours. would like to think it's because the sex is amazing, that it’s because he's into it more than ever now when previously, all it took was one round to knock him out, make him feel cheap and dirty all over. but that wouldn't be giving you any credit, you do it to him, again and again. nothing makes sex feel better than having a partner who cares about you. 

still buried inside you, every maneuver is felt as he keeps his weight on your back. can't help but shiver and twitch all over when his tip presses in a little more, every ridge and vein of his cock rubbing your walls, brushing against your clit. you’re writhing your hips impatiently, aching for him to move again, pleading for him to start pounding you like he was three orgasms ago.

"shh, i got you angel," he coos. hearing it sets a fire alight within you, heat coiling in your tummy at the sound of him calling you a name he's bound to you. he twists the cap off and brings it to his lips, the condensation drips over your skin and you whine in anticipation when it stings then subsides a second later. he pours it in his mouth without swallowing, keeps it there in the hollows of his cheeks before he leans forward and grips your jaw in his hand, holding it in place with his thumb and index finger, urging for you to open up. and you do, without hesitation. geto's icy cold lips meet yours then so does his tongue, the water that flows from his mouth into yours tastes like a breath of fresh air, crisp and cool. his tongue laps at yours when you gulp it down, it soothes your dry throat. excess running like rivers dribbling along the length of your neck.

when he pulls away, a line of drool trails in between the both of you, he's going back in for another kiss, another bite, addicted to the taste, eating up your lazy whimpers. your tongue chases after him along with your hips when you grind up, ass pushing into him, garbled moans mixed with you begging for him to move faster, thrust harder as you squeeze down on his cock. mewling “please, please, i’ve been good," always asking for it so nicely although he's being this mean, this withholding from you. 

spreading your cheeks apart, he's salivating at the lewd image of you clamping on his cock as he deliberately sinks in and out, coating it in your slick juices while he dribbles a line of spit from his lips down to where you two meet. "fuck, you're so dirty baby," you keen, hearing the sound of your bodies joining, already creaming on it the more he moves.

geto crouches over and you feel his arm lock around your neck in a chokehold. keeping his lips close to your ear, his panting breath blows hot over your skin. wrapped up like this, you feel nothing but his voice, his scent, his body around you. consuming you in a womb of heat and sweat and musk. safe and secure.

“yeah? you know you like it.” he teases, gritting past his teeth as it nips on your helix. voice carrying equal parts of being smug and fond. raises his hips and pulls out to the tip just to hear you whine from the loss before he slams himself back in, meeting your pussy with a loud slap, all the way to the hilt. eyes rolling back when he hits a particular spot inside you.

geto lets out a guttural noise building from his chest, reverberating through you the more he nestles his cock further in, his balls come to rub against your clit and he can't help but ask “you want this dick?” punctuating his words with slow, lazy strokes. his hips start bucking to a casual rhythm, rutting into you while his other hand moves towards your lips, coaxing them apart and pushing past your teeth to run it along your tongue. cold and wet and so indulgent is he that you suck on his fingers then, coating them before he pulls them out with a pop. 

he reaches underneath to where his cock stretches you and slides the pad of his fingers over your clit, loving how it juts out and twitches when you spread your legs wider. strokes it in time with his thrusts then slows down gently, switching between light quick strokes and rubbing slow circles when he hears your moans building up, your insides clenching down on him, waiting and anticipating.

"i want it so bad, please fuck me," you let out breathy moan when his cock pulses inside, releasing dribbles of his pre cum, leaking inside. throwing your head back, you sink your nails into his forearm tucked below your chin for leverage and he hisses at the sting but he earns them, claims them as his own, wants you to leave the evidence there.

raising your ass up, back arching, practically laying flat against the mattress, you’re at his mercy. spread open and dripping all over his sheets but it wouldn’t be the first time you’d left a mess. he makes it so that you leave every bit of your essence here. that when he washes them the next day, it's like a reward, he'd see the aftermath of it and knows he'd done it to you, and he'll do it all over again. 

without any warning, he starts to thrusts frantically, the motion of his hips slamming down with need, finally giving in with desperate, fervent madness. nothing able to quell the pounding he sought to deliver as though he were even remotely in control when he’s turning into a mess again, stuttering and uneven thrusts carrying you through. moans growing louder as your body is consumed by him, his chest on your back, feeling the pulse beneath and the way his heart races. he was close.

your asscheeks smack against his hips, wet sounds echoing, so loud and lewd and your moans get short, abrupt, no longer hiding them. he curses under his breath. “fuck, you’re perfect, so fucking perfect for me,” there’s an urgency when he says it, driven by your cries, by the tightness. every thrust pulls you higher, tension rising and you come then with a scream, soul brought asunder.

clenching around him and whining his name. tasting so good on your tongue and he chases after your call, grunting into the crook of your neck. fucking you through your release. he wasn’t far behind, hips bucking on their own, he works you through the comedown, slowing his thrusts and grinding his leaking cock inside you. wanting to milk every bit of it out as rope after rope of hot cum spilled into you, filled to the brim. 

heat floods all over and your limbs go limp and laxed, mind turning fuzzy from the pleasure. atop you, he’s just as slack but he doesn’t pull out immediately, not until you’re done writhing and shaking all over. not until you decide to unclench yourself from him. his heavy, measured breaths rise and fall, sweaty chest heaving, and his heart full.

——————————————————

"are you sore?" geto asks from behind, pulling you closer to him in his big bed after using a warm towel to rub you down, gliding over your thighs, the backs of your knees, and over your mound. he wraps you up in him, pulls a comforter over your naked body with furs keeping you warm by your feet. he reminds himself to keep you warm, get more wood for the fireplace in the morning, and make you breakfast, and buy you a new dress just so he can rip it off you again, until then he's never leaving this bed.

"a little," you still feel him every time your legs rub together, an ache in the places his hands have gripped and spanked, and all the little bites he's left are tender to the touch. reminders of just how much he craves you, loves you and this body you live in.

"i'm sorry, maybe i overdid it," his lips brush over the slope of your shoulder, humming softly at you shaking your head no. his heart plays a steady rhythm, lulling you to the edge of sleep. here, it's safe and warm and you feel so damn happy, floating somewhere near heaven, too full of bliss to come back down to earth at the thought of him being with you.

bringing his arms around you closer, you entwine his hand in yours, "it was perfect, i loved it," you assure him, "i love you." you say, eyelids heavy, closing shut before you drift off to sleep, thinking of an entire life stretched out before you, moonlit skin and an edgeless pool and his voice whispering "i love you too."

[yutasbellybuttonpiercing]

Professor (Dilf) Qian - Q.KN

Pairing: Qian Kun x (fem!bodied) reader

Word count: 2000 words

AU/Genre: college!AU, dilf!Kun, dom!Kun, aged up characters (reader is legal tho!), smut

Warnings: age difference, mentioned breeding kink, mentioned exhibitionism kink, semi-public, dirty talk, dubification, degradation, spanking, humiliation (?), overstimulation, fingering, squirting

Summary: You're about to fail Prof. Qian's class. An embarrassing piece of paper might save your ass and make all your wet dreams about dilf!Kun come true.

A/N: this is a lot more build-up and a lot less fucking than I intended... I hope you still enjoy it??

"... and that's why - if you turn to page 27 - Mandisa said 'Yet, even today we still laugh sad laughs, remembering our innocent incredulity. Our inability to imagine certain forms of evil, the scope and depth of some strains of ruthlessness. We laugh, to hide the gaping hole where our hearts used to be. Guguletu killed us... killed the thing that held us together... made us human. Yet we still laugh.' Please keep that in mind for your final essay-"

Mr. Qian's calming voice is interrupted by someone entering the lecture hall. A young woman, possibly a student of a higher semester, enters and bows after realizing she has all the attention on her. Then, she quickly steps over to your professor, whispering something to him. He makes a serious expression, then nods and thanks her.

The moment she steps away from her, his eyes fall onto you.

You don't notice any of this happening. Your eyes have been glued to Mr. Qian's handsome face and big hands for the last hour and 20 minutes, your mind having completely logged off ever since the words 'gaping hole' have fallen from his slender lips. You should probably take notes, anything, but how could you if your literature professor looks like this. All you can think about is him making your hole-

"Alright, that's it for today. Thank you for your attention and please start writing your essays early, not like last time..." he laughs before beginning to pack his things. You have finally fallen out of your trance, the person sitting beside you tapping on your shoulder because their pencil fell under your seat. You apologize and hand the pencil over, then make your way out.

Until you hear your name being called.

You freeze, then slowly turn around to look at whoever is begging for your attention. It's no other than the handsome professor you have been thirsting over since the first lecture.

"Could you please come to me for a second?" He asks, his face serious, but his fingers moving in a 'come here'-motion almost makes you dizzy. You obey, squeezing through the remaining students before stopping at his desk. Someone closes the door. You two are alone in the huge lecture hall.

You two are alone in the lecture hall.

"What seems to be the problem, professor?" You ask, trying to keep your raging libido in the back of your mind for now. This is not the time nor the place for it.

"I'll get straight to the point. You missed the last essay. You cannot graduate from this course without having turned in all three essays. I can give you some extra time, if you need it, but you have to hand something in." Mr. Qian looks at you over his glasses, his dark eyes consuming you instantly. He is leaned against his desk, his butt hugging the edge softly, a piece of paper in his veiny hands...

"I wouldn't mind taking this course again, Mr. Qian" you hear yourself answer "I mean-" Too late. "Because of the topics discussed... Of course..."

Mr. Qian raises an eyebrow at your statement.

"I mean, this essay, I really want to do it, I just haven't had the time and- and- It's not like it's not an interesting topic, it is! And the way you teach it is- I mean you do it really well and I learn so much and I- it's just that it's hard to concentrate when- you- I can't concentrate because of-"

Mr. Qian stops your rambling by grabbing your wrists. In your monologue (where you had particularly tried not to look at him) you hadn't noticed him getting up to stand in front of you. And now that he does, being closer to you than ever before, giving you the opportunity to see him up close, his curved nose, his high cheekbones and the faintest stubble on his chin, you seem to have lost your breath.

"Are you trying to say what I think you're trying to say?" He asks, voice quieter since he's so close. So close you can smell his cologne. It makes you feel weak in the knees. After you didn't answer him, he continues "Let me tell you a little story. A couple of weeks ago, I was packing my things, ready to leave the lecture hall when my eyes fell onto an interesting piece of paper."

Your eyes widen. No, this can't be. One time, your friend had visited you (and you had pulled them into Mr. Qian's lecture to show them who you've been thirsting about). In that particular lesson, Mr. Qian had looked especially breathtaking, his dress pants far too tight around his plush ass, his shirt virtually clinging to his defined chest muscles and he'd gotten a haircut. One word: dreamy. You couldn't just keep the lewd thoughts about him to yourself, ripping a page out of your notebook to scribble down what you had to say. The outcome... high key inappropriate.

"Actually, I have it right here. You want me to read it to you?"

You are too mortified to react the woman was too stunned to speak and you pray that you're not thinking about the same piece of paper.

"Mr. Dilf" he reads, eyes falling onto you and you gulp. Yes, this is definitely your piece of paper "looks like a whole fucking meal today. To which someone responded Indeed. You then continued: I want to devour his ass like it's my last meal. Look at how juicy his cheeks are, I just want to burry my face between them and feast like a queen."

You want to die.

"Or here: I wish he would choke me with his-" he clears his throat "Fat cock. I just know he's big. He could split me in half with it and I'd thank him. I want him to fuck me so hard that my intestines rip and I die from internal bleeding. God, what I'd do to let this man wreck every single hole of mine lol"

You want to say something. Apologize maybe, but you're too embarrassed to even get out a single sound.

"He is such daddy material. If I wasn't on the pill, I'd still let him hit it raw and fuck his cum so deep into me - at this, your counterpart just answered with a drawing of a shocked emoticon - if I could, I'd get up right now and swallow his dick in front of the whole lecture hall. I don't care, everyone can see that I'm a whore just for him. I want him to get me naked and embarrassed in front of the whole class and then make me cum on his fingers."

"This could have been written by anyone..." you mumble, cheeks probably a deep shade of red.

"The backside of the paper is filled with scribbles of Mrs. Y/n Qian."

You take a deep breath "I am so incredibly sorry, I shouldn't have said any of that. It was just jokes - well, most of it- and-"

He stops you "You still want me to make you cum on my fingers?"

The floor suddenly seems very interesting. You can't look him in the eyes right now "yes..."

"Then why don't you sit down on my desk and take off your panties, I'll make you cum as much as you want. Afterwards, you can return the favor and show me how bad you want to graduate from this course."

"For real?!"

He nods and you make your way over to said desk, still suspicious, but to be honest, this situation couldn't possibly become anymore embarrassing then it already is. You watch him as he locks the door of the lecture hall as you remove your panties under your skirt.

As he comes back, he puts his hands on your knees, pushing them open so he can have a good view on your pussy. Sneaking on hand over your chest to briefly grope at your breasts - you can't hold back a gasp at this - he travels further down teasing your inner thighs.

It already feels so good that you can't even imagine what it'll feel like when he'll start to really touch you. As his hand gets particularly close to your pussy, you try to close your legs. Big mistake, you realize as he smacks your thigh so hard you squeal.

"Be a good girl and keep your legs open for me" he states with a stern look. The next thing you know, his finger starts circling your entrance. You gasps at the sensation, legs closing immediately.

Mr. Qian takes a deep breath "I don't know if you're just too fucking dumb to listen to me or if you're just too much of a bratty little whore. Either way, get off the desk" he demands as he sits down on his chair, patting his thighs "Guess I'll have to spank some manners into you."

You shouldn't be as excited as you are as you lay on his lap. Feeling him push up your skirt, you wiggle your ass in anticipation.

At the first stroke of his hand over your ass, you hum, closing your eyes at the feeling of his warm hand on your skin. Suddenly, the familiar stinging pain rushes through you and you can't help but moan. Another slap follows suit.

"You're not supposed to like this" Mr. Qian mumbles as he smacks your cheeks three more times. You feel yourself clench around nothing  "Dirty slut, you seem to be really enjoying this, look at how fucking wet you are, you're literally dripping on my pants." He notices, amused, almost as if mocking you. This just makes you even wetter.

Another hard smack lands on your ass, and slowly, it's getting too much. Instead of spanking you again, he runs his finger through your slit, collecting your wetness before laughing at you again "You're really fucking dripping."

Embarrassment slowly catches up to you and you whine. You love it.

"Get back on the desk"

"Please, sir, I can't-" you plead, having cummed three times already, but he doesn't seem to be done with you.

"Yes, you can, you literally begged for this, remember? Your little letter? You're such a pathetic little whore." You whine loudly, not only at his humiliating words, but also at his fingers that already slipped inside of you again "I know you can cum one last time, come on."

He stands up from his squatting position in front of you to stand beside you, allowing his arm to move with more force as he plunges his fingers into you once more. It's too much, you feel like you're going to pass out, at the same time you never want him to stop.

Next orgasm already approaching at his rapid movements, he places a hand on your lower stomach, pushing down as his fingers curl upwards, completely stimulating every inch and both sides of your sweet spot. You cry out, not having it in you to care that you were currently in a lecture hall.

Your orgasm builds up, but with the familiar knot in your stomach, there's something else you can feel, but you can't make out what it is, head too hazy to understand what's happening. The next second, you cum, harder than ever before and you feel yourself releasing an extraordinary amount of wetness.

"Look at this, you're a fucking slut, but so good for me, look how you squirted everywhere" Mr. Qian smiles down at your fucked out state.

"Huh?" Your hazy eyes look down on the floor in front of you that is, in fact, completely wet, just as your thighs and Mr. Qian's arm. Fucking hell, you didn't know you could do this. The only reaction you can bring yourself to is to smile weakly at the sight in front of you.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah..." you breathe out, completely fucked out and lulling "Let me return the favor now..."

© 2022 YUTASBELLYBUTTONPIERCING all rights reserved — please DO NOT translate, take, nor repost any of my works.

[rhinozilla]

Detroit: Become Family 2022 - Prompt 2: Recovery

@dbh-found-family

When Connor had joined the DPD as a deviant android, he had prepared himself for the crime scenes that he may have to investigate. The horrific, visceral, monstrous carnage of homicide cases that would test the very fiber of his being. He had braced himself for that. He had been less prepared for…this.

A brawl had broken out at the weekly Bingo Night at a small community center, and the police had been called after two elderly women came to physical blows after one woman was accused of taking the other’s seat.

“—and she snuck in…like a SNAKE!...and took my seat!” the first woman, Ginger, was railing. Her white hair was frazzled from the altercation, and she was not afraid to point her finger very aggressively at anyone and everyone around her.

“Oho! That is rich!” the other woman, Adelaide, shot back, standing farther away and being questioned by Hank, while Connor was taking Ginger’s statement.

“Ma’am,” Hank warned patiently. “Please.”

“You’re a SNAKE!” Ginger roared, pointing at her.

Adelaide folded her arms and lifted her chin. “You wouldn’t know snakeskin from cow hide, YOU HEIFFER! Nobody here is fooled by your fake-snakeskin handbag!”

“Ma’am.” Connor calmly intercepted, physically putting himself between the two women to block them from each other’s side. He waited until Ginger looked at him again. “How long have you been attending this location’s Bingo Night?”

“Since before you were a speck in Cyberlife’s eye, young man!” Ginger said boisterously.

“Well, congratulations on being older than the Appalachian Mountains!” Adelaide argued over Hank’s questions. “But that chair still doesn’t have your name on it!”

“SNAKE!”

“COW!”

“HAG!”

“SLUT!”

“Ladies, please…”

All in all, it took another hour to get anything close to a sufficient statement from either woman, and as soon as they had what they needed, Connor and Hank sent the women their separate ways and eagerly retreated to the quiet of Hank’s Oldsmobile.

While the car warmed up, Hank chuckled, shaking his head as he wrangled out of his jacket. “I tell you, times may change, but cranky old people always stay the same.”

Connor grinned at that, leaning out of the way as Hank wadded up his jacket and made to toss it into the back seat. “I wouldn’t know. I’m only a year old.”

Hank hummed at that, and something fell out of his jacket pocket as he threw the wad into the backseat. Connor recognized it as a little metallic coin, and he caught it before it could disappear between the gap in the seats. As he lifted it up, he immediately noted that it wasn’t a coin of legal tender but…something else.

“What is this?” he asked, opening his palm to inspect it.

Hank sat back in his seat, eyes falling to the coin in Connor’s hand. His face quickly tensed, and he lunged out a hand, snatching the coin away from Connor.

“Shit—It’s nothing. It’s nothing.”

Connor’s eyebrows raised at that reaction, but he didn’t try to withhold the coin from Hank. Hank’s face was rapidly turning red, and all indicators were pointing to embarrassment as the culprit. Connor frowned as Hank started to shove the coin into his pants pocket, though he soon gave up and sighed heavily, sinking back into his seat. Connor tilted his head both out of curiosity and concern. He had been living in Hank’s house for a year now…He had never seen his friend become so self conscious about anything else before.

“Hank? Is everything okay?”

Hank swallowed hard, glaring straight ahead through the windshield for a moment before huffing and dropping his gaze to his closed fist around the coin.

“Yeah, sorry…It’s just a…” He slowly opened his fist enough to let Connor see the coin again. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just—”

TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE.

Connor could read the engraving on the coin, and his data banks rapidly identified the coin as a medallion commemorating one year of sobriety for recovering alcoholics. Hank sat up straighter as Connor looked at the coin, and Connor frowned, raising his eyes to Hank’s defensive posture.

“Why were you hiding this?” Connor asked. “This is an accomplishment to be celebrated.”

Hank pursed his lips, then lowered his shoulders. “I…uh…I’ve tried to—y’know, before,” he mumbled, gesturing to the coin. “But I never…It never stuck before. This…yeah.”

Connor eyed him in confusion. Humans had such odd ways of twisting moments of success into reminders of past failures and fears of embarrassment.

“Hank, this is wonderful. I’m proud of you,” Connor said firmly, placing his hand on Hank’s arm and giving a squeeze.

Hank’s face stayed red, and he only briefly met Connor’s eyes before looking away again. He lifted a hand and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Thanks.”

Connor made a small smile, but it quickly tempered. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Hank snorted, looking at him incredulously before realizing Connor was serious. “I haven’t had somebody in my life in a long time who I didn’t want to disappoint. I, uh, I guess I didn’t want to disappoint you if I…y’know…fell off the wagon.”

Connor felt the biocomponents in his chest cramp at that, and he squeezed Hank’s arm again as his system quickly did the math. The revolution was just over a year ago now. Connor was just over a year old now. That meant…Hank had given up alcohol and begun attending meetings around the same time…all without telling Connor. And without Connor realizing.

“Hank, you’ve never disappointed me…and I’m glad you told me about it now, so I can tell you how proud I am,” he said emphatically.

“Yeah, all right, all right, calm down,” Hank said, chuckling as he stuffed the coin into his pocket this time. “You’re laying it on a little thick now.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s, uh, it’s not a bad thing,” Hank huffed, clearing his throat. “So…uh, anyway…Now that the Geriatric Thunderdome has been resolved,” he gestured to the Bingo Night sign. “Where to for dinner?”

Connor clicked on his seat belt and tilted his head. “How about…the Chicken Feed?”

Hank looked at him in surprise. “Seriously?”

Connor lifted his shoulders with a smirk. “You enjoy their food, and…we have something to celebrate tonight.”

Hank smiled at that and then bobbed his head. “Well, all right then…And you won’t bitch about the calorie count on what I order?”

“I will…bitch less than I normally would prefer to.” Connor smirked. “As my gift to you tonight.”

Hank shrugged, seeming to see that was the best that he was going to get. “I’ll take it.”

“Congratulations, Hank. I mean it,” Connor pressed. “I’m proud of you.”

Hank smiled back at him, and the red finally started to ebb from his face. “Thanks, kid.”

[oro-e-diamanti]

Quiet Music: Scherzo (Chapter Six; Part One)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Dreams turn into reality on smokey breaths. Inner turmoil melts away with the touch from warm skin. Promises make the evening decisions go from complicated to deliciously easy.

Content | Fluff, slight smut warning, tw soft drugs (marijuana)

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 4421

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitersmoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you @vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @cheese-toastie-11 @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @man3skin @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @superchrystaldrug @ginny-lily @everythingisdefinitelynotfine @nientedaridere @rainbowmarta @tiaamberxx @shaunthesheesh @enjcltaire @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy  @till-you-scream-and-cry @solasullabarca @fanfictionandfluff @makapaka11 @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @marriedwithmarktuan @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @kanevill @butterfly-skinnylegend @lidiyabest @killerqueen1985 @ccweasley @bluscryn @deluxeplanteater @ohtorchio @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic​ @fuckim-so-gay @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @petit-poussin @fedorable-killjoys​ @luvbadass​ @buttercup-beeee​ @navs-bhat​ @etaerealboyv​ @tryymebitch​ @mell-bell​ @fenhakwe​ @solacestyles​ @softforlukescurls​ @vicsangel​ @theimpossiblehologramtree​ @alina-exe​ @cherricola66​

***

Soft skin against his fingers. A hand running down his chest to his pants. Heavy breathing filling the room. The flesh underneath him felt warm and welcoming, hot to the touch and begging for more. Her perfume filled his senses as she pulled him close. Nails running down his back. Whispers of "amore mio, just like that", "keep going,” “cara mia, vita mia, please".

A “Dami, fuck” leaving her lips as his hand started gripping her thighs. Running between them, as she threw her head back, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling on it. Biting her neck. Coaxing more moans out of him, on a mission to make him lose his mind. She was heaven on earth. Supple breasts moving with every breath as he let his mouth descend on them, one at a time, desperate to consume all of her. Kissing every inch of her, exploring her until he knew about every curve, every ridge, every little spot of her body. He wanted to know all the secrets she ever had. Drawing noises out of her that he wanted to keep hearing for the rest of his life. Her hands on his shoulders, on his back, on his arse. Pulling him further into her. Letting his mouth wander lower, getting wrapped up between her legs. She looked at him with dark eyes, nodding, and he was ready to suffocate in between her thighs.

Wait, was he actually suffocating on her thighs?

Damiano woke up with a start, face pressed deeply into the pillow, restricting his breathing in a way that was much less sexy than the one in his dream. A circle of drool had escaped his mouth and dropped onto the pillow. Well, that's embarrassing, he thought to himself.

He was in the middle of pushing himself up and out of bed, highly aware of the situation in his boxers - only to be interrupted when a knock on the door startled him. Trying to wrap the sheet around him, suddenly overly self-conscious of his state, he hastened to the door, almost tripping several times on the way. When he finally unlocked and opened it, he just about let his head appear in the opening, awkwardly hiding between the door still. Y/n’s face was painted in confusion. He forgot how stunning she really was, his brain not even coming close to painting her image in his dreams.

“Yes, hi, good morning, I’m up! I’ll be down in an hour!” He was rushing to finish his sentence, not giving her a chance to reply before he let the door fall back into its lock. A deep breath out. Her face instilled in his mind like a photograph, unable to be separated from the extremely vivid dream he’d just had. He felt bad. He had essentially slammed the door in her face while wrapped up in a bedsheet. Not a very good impression considering he liked the woman behind the door. This was going to be such a long day.

***

“Why are you so awkward?” Victoria nudged Damiano as they had settled on a couch on the bus. He had been looking off since she had first seen him that morning, which was odd. Especially considering he was usually more of an early bird than the rest of them. “Sleep badly? Bad dreams? Good dreams? Or did you scare Y/n away again with another morning wood incident.”

Damiano’s face burned up as if suddenly ignited, making Victoria gasp.

“Oh my god, did you?!” She smacked his chest with her hand as she let out a gasp.

“I wasn’t even aware you knew about the first time,” Damiano mumbled, slumping down deeper into the seat. Crawling into the shirt he was wearing. Anything to get out of this conversation.

“Word travels fast on tour, you should know that by now,” she giggled, repositioning so she had her legs spread across his thighs. “So what happened?”

“I’m not going to talk about that with you,” he scoffed. Victoria’s grin only spread further, though. She was loving this side of Damiano more than she would like to admit - shy, awkward, unsure of himself. He was one of the best people she knew, an amazing frontman, a talented musician, a loyal friend. Yet with one little addition to the team he had turned into a quivering mess.

“You know I’m just going to ask Y/n what happened, right?”

“Yeah good luck with that, she didn’t even notice. At least I hope not.”

“Wait - so you hid your boner from her? I mean, at least you didn’t traumatise her again. What happened though, did you have some good times before the wake-up call?” She once again nudged him obnoxiously, loving how uncomfortable she was making him. “Did you have a wet dream? Did- Oh my god, you’re blushing, you did have a wet dream! Tell me everything! Was it hot? Did she go down on you or something? Did you see her tits?”

“Fuck off Victoria, I’m not telling you anything, now stop! It’s no like-”

“Hi! Attention, everyone! I know it's early and everyone is probably still asleep. But - announcements! That includes you Thomas,” Y/n said pulling the curtain of the guitarist’s bunk back so he could listen too.

Victoria noticed how their assistant didn’t seem spooked by Damiano’s presence at all - it seemed like he had been right after all. She hadn’t noticed a thing. If only those two would stop playing cat and mouse and finally do something, anything, she thought.

"Now, I know we're all excited about going to Amsterdam today, and I'm not looking at anyone in particular here," she explained as she shot a pointed look at Damiano that no one missed. "But I have one ground rule: no weed before the show. You got tomorrow off, so whatever you do after the performance tonight is none of my business. But god help you if I find you with a joint in hand any time before that."

She smiled, but Victoria had no doubts she would be deadly serious if it came to it. Y/n passed out a map of the local area, highlighting the Leidseplein in the middle of town, and in red circles were the venue, the hotel they were staying at, restaurants, and several coffeeshops, all within easy walking distance.

“Do with that what you like,” she concluded. ”As long as you do it after the show.”

***

The band had gotten to the venue straight after lunch, excitedly discussing some new covers they were thinking about playing that night. Soundcheck consisted of a number of conversations all at once, trying to figure out how to change the setlist. Damiano found himself participating less, instead, staring down at Y/n sitting in the audience. She was busy writing in her notebook, the seats next to her taken up by her bag, folders, and laptop. He knew she needed a break. They all worked extremely hard all the time, so it wasn't difficult to spot the signs of a fellow overworked person. He made it his own personal mission to get her to go out with them that night. Spend some time outside of work, see the city, anything that made her put her phone down.

As day turned to night, the concert loomed on the horizon. As soon as they hit the stage, it was clear it was going to be a good night. Amsterdam was the best kind of crazy. Going from Zitti e Buoni into Billie Eilish's Bury a Friend, the crowd went wild. Damiano noticed with amusement that Y/n was absentmindedly dancing along from her spot on the side of the stage as well. His attention had only been diverted towards her for a second, he was sure, but it was enough to suddenly feel something hit his head. Soft, red fabric.

"Was wondering when the first of those would come around," Damiano chuckled into the microphone in between songs, swinging the bra around a few times, before draping it across his mic stand.

Yet as much as the energy of the audience rubbed off on the band, all of them felt like collapsing after the show, feeling like they'd given it more than their all. A perfect chance to unwind for the night, in a way only Amsterdam really knew how. It was legal, after all.

***

“I am absolutely not getting high with you lot.”

Everyone was gathered in Y/n’s hotel room more or less uninvited. It seemed like they were dying to drag her along on what was supposed to be one of the best nights out on that tour. After getting ready, they had simply stormed in as soon as she had opened her hotel door. Now they were perched on her bed, her desk, and her armchair, trying to convince her.

“I gave you all a map to see where you could go. I, for one, would like to stay in my room, just me and my bed, and sleep till my alarm in the morning. That sounds like a brilliant time in my book.”

“Boring!” Thomas shouted, hurling a pillow from the bed at her that she quickly caught and threw back with much less force.

“If you come out with us, we’ll be ready before your wake-up call for the rest of the week!” Victoria tried to bribe.

“If you come out with us, we’ll have breakfast ready for you every day!” Y/n shot a look at Thomas, knowing fully well this was not going to happen. The idea alone made her laugh.

“If you come out with us, you can keep me company while the other three go crazy?” Ethan finally offered. She knew she was close to giving in, no matter how wrong it seemed to blur the lines between working relationship and friendship. She barely even agreed to drinks when she was on the job, and technically, she considered herself to be on the job 24/7. Yet these four had grown close to her heart so much more than anticipated.

Out of nowhere Damiano appeared next to her, slinging his arm around her shoulder. The way his fingertips brushed her neck as he did so left goosebumps. “Come on, darling, I promise I’ll take care of you.”

It turned out, that was all she had needed to hear.

***

The coffeeshop didn’t differ much from the usual pubs and bars; people stuffed in every corner, a low murmur of talk with the occasional loud laughter over the music playing in the background, tables full of glasses and bottles. Only the smoke lingering in the air, its distinct smell, and the relaxed atmosphere let on that it was a slightly different kind of place. Y/n made short work of weaseling through the crowd and securing a table at the far end of the place, just enough space to accommodate all of them, as the others went to order.

“Do you want one as well?” Damiano asked as soon as he had let himself fall onto the couch next to her, already preparing to roll a joint.

“I think I’m getting a second-hand high just sitting here. Maybe take a puff of one of yours, but I won't be able to finish one myself."

Damiano nodded, licking the inside of the blanks as he prepared his joint. Victoria came bouncing in like a tidal wave - her usual fashion - and crashing into the others already sitting down. As soon as Damiano was happy with his creation, she snatched it out of his hand, making short work of lighting it and taking a drag.

“Hey, that was mine!”

“Make another one,” she grinned, obnoxiously blowing the smoke into his face. Rolling his eyes, Damiano quickly prepared another one for himself, everyone now happy and content with their smokes, until only Y/n was left holding at a glass of water.

She preferred to observe the scene from her little advantage point in the corner like she so often did. The mellow music in the background was loud enough to underline the atmosphere but quiet enough to easily talk to everyone around you without having to shout. She liked this much better than loud bars in the evening. Most people were minding their own business, in small groups or pairs, some on their own. Victoria was quick to start chatting to a pair of girls sitting at the table next to them. She wasn’t going to lie - while not her usual spot, she didn’t exactly feel uncomfortable.

A hand appeared in front of her face, seemingly out of nowhere, and it took her a second to realise it was Damiano, trying to pass her his joint. She hesitated - still not convinced whether she should be smoking at all, but one look into his eyes only proved to her that she was weak to his suggestions. Parting her lips ever so slightly, she let him push the blunt between them, his fingertips grazing her. She took a drag, careful not to breathe in too much too quickly, before releasing the joint. Damiano pulled it back towards himself immediately, putting it back between his own lips, and she felt hypnotised. The moment came to an abrupt end when a cough took hold of her.

“Easy, easy,” Ethan soothed from the other side, his hand on her upper back. “Breathe.”

Everyone around the table seemed to be looking at her now, but she quickly got her composure back, holding up her hands in a gesture that was meant to signal she was fine.

“Fuck,” Y/n choked, taking a drink from her glass to wet her throat. “This is why I don’t smoke.”

“Wrong,” Thomas threw in. “This is because you don’t smoke!”

Y/n shook her head, giggling at the guitarist and the know-it-all look in his eyes.

“Up to try again?” Damiano whispered in her ear as the attention had finally ceased to be on her. She found herself staring into his eyes once again, a fluttery feeling erupting in her stomach at having him watch her so intently, at being able to capture his attention so easily.

The look on his face was enough to get her to try again. And again. And again.

She couldn’t tell how much time had passed, but for once, she genuinely didn’t care. The people around them had changed, old ones leaving, new ones arriving, but the music stayed the same. She wasn’t quite sure what the joke Thomas was telling them was about, but she found herself giggling along nonetheless. This was the best she had felt in forever.

Unaware of what she was doing, she leaned back, finding Damiano’s arms carefully wrapping around her, holding her softly. To her own surprise, she was sinking into him.

“Having fun?” He asked in a voice so low she barely heard it. A voice so soft it made her heart melt. She nodded, slightly twisting around in his embrace to look at him again. She couldn’t get enough of his face. She’d stay and study it for all of eternity if he let her.

"Have you ever seen brown zircon?” She suddenly asked out of nowhere. “It's a gemstone that looks like they made sparkly salted caramel bonbons from rock. They mine it in Tanzania, I think? Your eyes sparkle just like that." She grinned at the man beside her. "I can attest to that from this angle at least. It’s like the one scene in Aladdin! 'She's got these eyes, and this hair and…’ Ah oh god, what am I doing?" She couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous she was being. She found her face resting on his shoulder, completely content. His eyes never wavered from her face, listening closely to what she had to say.

Then Y/n watched her hand brush Damiano’s hair to the front, attempting to style it in a slightly different way. “Did you mean to look like Eren Yeager or was that some sort of subconscious coincidence? Not that it doesn’t look good, of course.”

“You watch Attack on Titan?” Dami looked down at her with surprise.

“No I don’t, but my friends do. So you learn the names of the people they yell at through the TV screen very quickly,” she laughed, remembering the way her friends would huddle in the living room, shouting at whatever the characters were doing wrong in their opinion.

“The more I get to know you, the more I’m convinced you’re my kinda woman, you know?” he mumbled, a smile grazing his lips. The more she looked at him, the more she felt her brain shutting off and her heart taking over. Or was it the high? She wasn’t interested in trying to differentiate.

Once again, he pushed the joint between her lips, holding the eye contact and it felt so much more intimate than it should have. It felt like her nerves were on fire. When he pulled his hand back again, she wanted to grab onto it, keep him in place, keep the moment.

I could stay in this forever, Y/n thought to herself.

"Also, I'm not religious by any means, but whatever God was responsible for creating you sure took their sweet time doing it…" The words spilled from her mouth before she realized she was talking, eyes flicking back and forth between his. "You know?"

She caught herself looking at his lips. A small blush grew on her face as she looked away. Staring out into the room, out at the people sitting next to them at other tables. Something distracting to take the rising heat off.

***

Damiano could feel his defenses wearing away. All ideas of staying away completely vanished into the smoke that lulled them in as he was holding her in his arms, her back leaning against his chest. He could feel her breathing, giggling at nothing at all, or maybe something Victoria had said but he hadn’t heard.

“If anyone’s been made by the angels, it’s you, amore,” he mumbled more to himself than anything, but she had heard him. Another chuckle running through her body. The atmosphere was fogging up his brain. He watched in amusement as he let a finger run up her arms, from her wrist to her upper arm where the fabric of her shirt began, and goosebumps appeared as if standing tall in a row. He tried it again on the other arm, getting the same result.

“What are you doing?”

She was turning around in his arms, just enough to look at him without removing herself from his embrace. He wondered if it was the dim light or if she was always this radiant. His hands travelled to the elastic that was holding her hair together and carefully removed it, eyes on her. Her hair fell around her face, framing it beautifully in its typically wild manner.

“I…” Her eyes seemed to twinkle as the light of the bar reflected back at him through them. “I don’t know.”

He looked away, suddenly insecure. What was he doing? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he couldn’t keep his hands off her, now less than ever. He wanted her. Wanted her all to himself. Wanted to keep holding her like this forever. There was no denying that.

“You’re sweet.”

Her voice took a second to get through to him, but as it did, he turned his head as if in slow motion. All he had wanted to do was look at her again, but that wasn’t what happened. Instead, her lips were on his.

***

All Y/n had done was lean forward to press a kiss against his cheek. Now their lips were meeting and she didn’t know how she had gotten there. She wanted to pull back - no, actually she didn’t. But she thought she should. Though the spirit was willin - to pull away, that was -, the flesh was weak. Delving deeper into his arms, she found herself kissing him like she meant it. Her hands found his chest, feeling the rising heat from his skin. Being closer to him than ever before was driving her crazy. His soft, warm lips against hers. Just the tiniest movements, as if he was afraid of breaking her. She let herself enjoy it. For a moment. That was all her brain allowed before switching back to the rational part. She pulled back in surprise.

She moved out of his embrace, stiffening at the contact. All of the twinkling lights of romance that had just appeared around them now popped as the kiss ended.

I just kissed my boss. I just fucking went and kissed Damiano! I am so, so fucked.

Yet, she couldn't deny that she wanted to kiss him again. And again, and again until they ran out of air to breathe. She looked back at him and the expression on his face said it all. His lids lowered, a small smile appearing on his face. Eyes twinkling in the soft light. He hadn’t wanted the kiss to end either. Either that or the weed was affecting him more than she had thought.

But as cold air started to seep in between them he blinked a couple of times, only now noticing that she had pulled away.

"Sorry - about that. I was trying to- I wasn't trying to kiss you. Well, I was - but not on the mouth. That would have been very forward of me. I would never. That's not me. I don't know how that happened - sorry." Y/n rambled on, unable to stop talking.

Damiano smirked, pecking her cheek. "Y/n, it's fine, you're fine. I turned my head and we kissed. It happens." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. As if this was some sort of common occurrence. As if she was panicking for nothing. Was she?

***

Damiano desperately tried to hide the turmoil inside of him. It happens?! Damiano, what the hell are you thinking! Not the right thing to say in this situation! Now it just looks like you’d kiss anyone, great. He looked down at his hands, fumbling with his rings. Trying to get his breathing back under control. He needed to be cool.

"I mean - not that I didn't enjoy it. You kiss good!"

You kiss good? What the? That wasn’t even English. He was well and truly losing his mind.

***

Y/n took a deep breath, sitting back in her seat, making sure not to be as close to Damiano as she had been before. Victoria and Thomas had migrated to get more drinks and Ethan was deeply entrenched in some conversation with a man next to him. Luckily the rest of the band hadn't seen what just happened. Grabbing her glass once more, the cold wet condensation gave a stark contrast to her warm skin.

The kiss still left a tingly feeling on her lips. Quickly looking at Damiano, she met his eyes. He had not looked away yet, it seemed. She watched as he bit his lip in contemplation. Whatever was playing on his mind, Y/n didn't know. His words left her believing he wasn’t quite as put together as he tried to pretend. He certainly wasn’t making much sense. Although, she wouldn’t dismiss his compliment of her kissing abilities. She wondered if he would think similarly if they did it again, or did more than that…

Her wandering thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a loud crash. The culprit was quickly spotted. The middle of the coffeeshop, which had been empty of people until then, now had Thomas lying on his front, surrounded by liquid and broken glass.

Y/n didn’t hesitate, jumping up to offer her aid. The worry only lasted for a second though, until Thomas turned on his back, giggling maniacally. She barely managed to kick some shards out of the way before he could roll onto them.

She let out a deep sigh at the state of the guitarist, before quickly apologizing to the people at the bar.

“Everyone help me grab Thomas, I think this is our sign to call it a night.”

***

Y/n thought she’d have an easy time going to sleep. The effects of the joint were lingering, plus, the day had just been plain exhausting. Yet, as her head hit the pillow, she felt restless. Her mind kept circling around Damiano. The way he had looked at her. The way he had looked in general. She had seen him basically naked at this point, but she still thought about how it would be different up close and personal. She wished she had been able to read his eyes more. Had he been thinking about the same things she had? Had he wanted to kiss her again and again, get lost in that bubbling excitement of finally being close, finally let his hands wander to new places? She wanted to pull his hair. See what kind of sound would leave his mouth when doing so.

She wanted his hands and his lips, all of him really, badly. She wanted to know what he felt like when he really kissed her. What his fingers would be able to do to her. Biting and moaning. She desperately needed some release, wishing it would come from him, but knowing there was no chance, at least not tonight. Her hand wandered between her legs as she let her mind run wild. Imagining it was him instead, letting his fingers run along the inside of her thighs, exploring every inch of her. How he would treat her just right, hit all the right spots, do so much better than her own fingers ever could. The words he’d whisper in her ear, seducing her with his mother tongue, breath fanning her skin. How he would kiss her senseless. Feeling the rhythm of their bodies take over. Watch his tattoos start to glisten with a sheen of sweat from what they would be doing.

She found her release almost embarrassingly quickly, burying her face in her pillow. Her body felt more at ease, although her heart was still craving something more. She had almost calmed down, getting her breathing back under control. In a moment of clarity, she checked her phone to see when she had to wake up the next day, when the sound of a moan caught her attention. One that definitely wasn’t her own, but seemed to come from the room next door.

Damiano’s room.

[sunwoo-hoo]

↣ treasure reaction to s/o bringing niece/nephew to the dorms

↳ a/n: hello lovelies! here is another treasure reaction! i’m sorry that it took so long, treasure usually takes me a little longer to do so keep that in mind for future requests. but anyway i hope you like it! i got inspiration from t-map episode 39. i hope you don’t mind i made the kids various ages so that it wasn’t the same scenario. xx 

(also this was reuploaded since it wasn’t showing up in my tags)

↳ requested? yes

↳ genre: fluffiest of fluff

↳ send in your request here

↳ word count: 1.5k

↳ treasure x fem reader

「 choi hyunsuk  」

you told him you had to cancel the date you had planned together to watch your 5 year old niece

he recommended bringing her over to the dorms so that you could watch her together

he was ecstatic when you showed up with the little girl’s hand in yours

“oh my goodness aren’t you so cute?!” he gushed squatting down to get on her eye level

she hid her behind your legs in embarrassment

the day was spent playing various games like hide and seek easing your niece into the unfamiliar surroundings

at one point when she settled down watching television hyunsuk couldn’t help but look at you saying

“i can’t wait til we have a child of our own one day”

「 park jihoon 」

you had brought your nephew over to bake some brownies together hoping to surprise jihoon after practice

but when he told you practice was cancelled for the day he decided to join in on baking

he tried his best to make your 6 year old nephew laugh but he was not having it

it wasn’t until jihoon accidentally tripped over some flour falling to the floor butt first is when your nephew started to laugh uncontrollably  

you couldn’t help but put your hand over your mouth trying not to laugh in front of him

“i’m glad you think my misery is funny” he quipped rubbing his behind

「 kanemoto yoshinori  」

it was a rainy day when you went to visit yoshi at the dorms with your young niece

she had just turned 4 and yoshi wanted to meet her finally coming back from treasure’s recent comeback

walking into the dorms he had the biggest smile on his face when he bend down to greet her

“hello! [niece name] it’s so nice to meet you, you can call me yoshi-oppa” grabbing her little hand

she smiled up at him looking enjoying the new acquaintance she had just met

yoshi then stood back up placing a kiss on your cheek

“she’s so adorable”

「 kim junkyu  」

you were your nephew’s best friend being the cool aunt he always loved hanging out with you

when he heard you were in a relationship with an idol he was a tad bit jealous since he knew he would be seeing less of you

until you decided that your nephew should meet junkyu bringing him to the dorms one afternoon

when you walked in junkyu couldn’t help but smile at your nephew’s cuteness

“you must be [nephew name] i’m your aunt’s special friend” he exclaimed proudly

junkyu decided to show off his singing charms to your nephew who couldn’t help but be in awe of his voice

the rest of the day was spent together singing karaoke

「 takata mashiho 」

this wasn’t the first time mashiho had met your 7 year old nephew

in fact you were convinced your nephew liked mashiho more than you when he basically begged you to take him to see mashiho one day

walking in the dorms mashiho ran up to your nephew giving him the biggest of hugs

“hey! [nephew name] i’ve missed you! guess what? i got the nintendo switch all set up for us” he cheered

your nephew practically ran at a inhuman speed to the console mashiho going after him

you couldn’t help but smile looking at your two favorite people in the world having a wonderful time together

「 yoon jaehyuk 」

it was busy afternoon running errands with your young niece

jaehyuk had texted you asking you to come over

when you told him that you had your young niece with you that’s when he texted back in less than in a minute

telling you that he would babysit her until you were finishing up your errands for the day

when you went to the dorms you were shocked on what he had set up there was different types of games, books, & snacks

when he greeted you with a peck on the lips you couldn’t help but smile at the effort he put in

“don’t worry about a thing [name] we’re going to have lots of fun i promise” he grinned

「 hamada asahi 」

it all happend during a snow day, you were taking care of your niece while your sibling was out of town for a business trip

deciding to get out of the house you told asahi you were coming over to the dorms since it was treasure’s break

he decided to draw out a welcome sign for her so that she would be surprised when you showed up

walking in the dorm shaking your shoulders trying to get rid of snow that’s when you saw the welcome sign

your niece smiled at the cute drawn characters as asahi bend down to give her the piece of paper

“this is for you [niece name] i hope you like it” he smiled

the rest of the day was spent by the fire enjoying hot chocolate with marshmallows

「 bang yedam 」

when yedam told you he wanted to meet your nephew you were kind of against it

partly because your nephew was still very young barely able to walk on his own but yedam persisted

giving in you brought your nephew to the dorms one day

walking in yedam ran straight towards you in awe of the young child in your arms

“he’s so charming” he gushed squishing his little cheeks

as you walked into the living your room you sat down on the couch putting your nephew on the floor so that he could crawl around

he then crawled to yedam’s guitar playing with the strings laughing at the funny noise it was making

picking up the guitar yedam exclaimed proudly

“how about i sing a song for you? would you like that?”

「 kim doyoung 」

you were picking up your 5 year old nephew from school wanting to see doyoung since his dorms was on the way back home

he was surprised to see you but even more surprised when you brought your nephew as well

since it was a beautiful day out you all decided to go to the small park behind the dorms

all three of you decided to play a game of soccer while doyoung was giving your nephew some pointers

“your doing great! [nephew name] but try it this way”

you smiled at the wholesome interaction while your nephew looked up at him in admiration

doyoung gave him the biggest cheer when your newphew made his first goal

“see! i knew you could do it” he exclaimed proudly showing off his cute smile that you loved so much

「 watanabe haruto 」

one of the most important things to haruto was family

so when your sibling finally had your first niece he was thrilled not only for you but for your sibling as well

after a couple of weeks you finally decided to bring her to meet haruto while he was at the dorms

walking in with the baby in your arms he looked down at her tearing up

he couldn’t help it, as it reminded him of his little sister back home all the way in japan

when you gently passed her over to haruto he smiled

looking up at him you wiped away his tears as he finally said

“i think it’s time you meet my family [name] your important to me.. i want them to meet the woman i want to spend the rest of my life with” he vowed

「 park jeongwoo 」

it was a rare day when jeongwoo had a day off from all of his idol duties

so you were shocked when he said he wanted it to spend his day off with you and your niece

the minute you showed up to the dorms your niece went wild running all over the place

she was still at the age where she was just full of energy and there was no way you could stop it anytime soon

jeongwoo ran after her trying to catch her

“come here baby!” he giggled making funny animal noises trying to get her attention

finally scooping her up he gave her a small kiss on the cheek

you pouted until he saw your face giving you a small kiss on your pouty lips

“don’t worry babe your still my number 1 but [niece name] is coming for your spot” he teased as you lightly punched his arm playfully

「 so junghwan 」

being the youngest of the group he was the most comfortable around young children

you decided that he should meet your niece for the first time after a couple of months of dating

one sunny day coming to the dorms he noticed you walking in with her as he was playing a video game

he shyly walked over to her bending down to her eye level

“hello, [niece name] you look very pretty today, it’s so nice to meet you” he announced looking at her pink tutu and her small tiara

she giggled pulling off her tiara giving it to junghwan

he put it on top of his head confidently

“do i look like a prince?” he asked doing a pose

she shyly nodded

the rest of the day was spent playing dress up and having tea time together  

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* © sunwoo-hoo 2 0 2 1  ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[unwrittenlibrary]

all this devotion is rushing out of me

summary // Bucky Barnes is beautiful. No ifs, ands or buts. But there was something exceptionally beautiful about him that you were desperate to see. (bucky x fem!reader)

or; bucky barnes blushing is reader’s kryptonite and all she wants is to see it.

words // 2.0K

warnings // (hi there is a brief brief allusion to a breeding kink in this but i don’t write smut so it’s nothing graphic) mentions of pregnancy & sex 

notes // my second b.b fic also originally posted on my ao3 happy reading! i have more in the works! 

Bucky Barnes is beautiful. There’s no doubt about that in your mind.

From his newly cropped hair to the smile lines forming around his eyes. Down to the stunning metal arm and god his thighs.

Bucky Barnes is beautiful.

But your favorite part, the thing of his that you find most beautiful, are his flushed cheeks and embarrassed smiles.

The way he turns red from the tip of his ears to the apple of his cheeks and turns his eyes away with a small, embarrassed smile always makes your stomach flutter. It was so beautiful and rare that when it did happen, you just wanted to bring it back.

So while visiting Sam and Sarah, Mission Blushing Barnes, was born in your mind. You didn’t really want to embarrass him, far from it, so you knew you didn’t want to do anything in front of Sam or any of Sam’s family. But, fuck, watching him play with the boys and make himself at home with the Wilson’s had something growing in your chest.

And you wanted to see him blush. If only to end the day on a high note. So you waited and waited. Until finally, it was you and him sitting on the edge of the dock talking about nothing.

“Louisiana’s nice, isn’t it?” He asks quietly as he watches the sun set. You nod but don’t respond, too busy admiring his side profile.

The slope of his nose and outline of his lips has your mind jumping for joy that he’s yours. That he’s the man you get to wake up to and comfort. You smile when he turns to look at you, bemused by your silence. “What’s up, doll?”

You reach out to place a hand on his cheek. “Just admiring you. So pretty.” You keep your eyes focused on his face, expecting a blush at the term pretty instead of handsome. All that comes though is a snort. You drop your hand with a frown.

Bucky rests a hand on your waist and drags you closer to him. “Gotta do better than that, doll. You’ve been calling me pretty for months now. I’m used to it.”

You open your mouth in faux shock. “I have no idea what you mean.” You say in a pitched voice as you rest your head against his shoulder.

Bucky shakes with laughter. “I know you like making me blush. Gives you some sick power high.” He mumbles the words into your hair as he gives you a kiss.

You smile. You know there’s no menace behind his words. You can tell from his relaxed body language and quiet tone of voice your little mission doesn’t bother him all that much.

“Is that a challenge, Sergeant Barnes?” You glance up and Bucky looks down at you exasperated. For a moment, you think the red will appear and you’ll have won a bet before it’s even begun. But…

A smirk slides onto his face, something cocky and bright, that makes your stomach clench excitedly. “Calling me sergeant outside the bedroom isn’t gonna make me blush, sweetheart.”

You laugh softly and Bucky presses another kiss to your hair. “What do I win if you can’t make me blush by the end of the night?” He asks after a moment of silence.

You purse your lips and think for a moment. “What do you want?” You ask when nothing comes to mind. “Because I know when I win, you’ll be worshipping me.”

“I do that anyways.” He says immediately, making you laugh.

“I mean… I’ll be in charge.” You clarify with a raised eyebrow. Bucky bites down his lip to stop a smile and you hope that the blush appears just from the mention of you taking over for the night.

He shakes his head. “And if I win, you wear that suit Sam made you.” You watch as his eyes flicker over you body, definitely imagining the skin tight suit Sam had made as a joke after your complaints of how fictional heroes dressed. You had laughed and Sam had given you the real suit moments later, the skin tight suit had been stuffed into your closet and all but completely forgotten. 

“Sounds like a bet to me.” You pull back from his shoulder and hold your pinky out. “How about it, Barnes?”

Bucky leans down so his forehead rests against yours and with a wide smile he interlocks your pinky with his. “You’re on, sweetheart.”

The two of you just look at each other for a moment, until Sam’s voice breaks the comfortable silence. “Hey, weirdos! Come on, Sarah’s pulling out dessert!”

You scrunch your nose before hopping up. You don’t bother to pull Bucky with you, knowing his strength alone would probably end up sending you into the water. “Come on, baby, maybe we can steal some whip cream.” You wink as you walk backwards.

Bucky only laughs loudly and follows you. He reaches a hand out to stop you from walking off the dock and forces you spin around. “Strike one.” He whispers into your ear before running ahead of you to meet Sam.

You roll your eyes. Strikes weren’t a part of the bet and he knew it. He just wanted to psych you out. But you knew you could get that man to blush, you just had to find new material.

And you tried.

Leaning over when Sarah handed the ice cream and whispering as quietly as possible so only he could hear. “Forget the whip cream, ice cream might be a better bet.” Bucky looked down and shook his head before taking a bite of your chocolate.

Running your hand down his metal arm as you walked back to the Wilson’s. “Wonder what this arm could do to me.” Bucky had just looked down at you disappointedly. “You already know.” He hadn’t turned red, but you felt a little hotter.

You had even brought up the idea of sneaking in some adult time after the house was asleep. That had just gotten you a shocked stare as he pointed out the kids who slept upstairs.

It was getting late and you were getting desperate. It’s not that you really cared if you won or not, you know if there was something you truly wanted to try that Bucky wanted to as well, you would. You didn’t even mind the idea of wearing the suit for Bucky. The thought of wearing it even if you won had crossed your mind. You really just wanted to see his pretty face all red.

Then, the perfect thing happened. The kids were excited to mess around with Sam and Bucky. Both men were equally as excited to show off the shield and metal arm.

You hadn’t even started watching to find something to make Bucky blush, his bright smile and excited laughter as he and Sam pretended to fall to the boys power is what made you think.

Bucky wanted his own family. You knew for awhile Steve had been part of his family and when he come out of HYDRA, Steve was all that was left of it. He had you and he had the Wilson’s. But the two of you had spoken at length about your future and plans for your own family together. He was going on less and less missions and you had a steady job, so starting a family now made sense.

And you knew how you could bring it up and make him blush. It was an obvious win-win situation. 

“Buck!” You call out. His attention is immediately turned on you as he stands up straight and finds your eyes. You wave him over and laugh as the boys tease him about being in trouble.

You’re standing on the back stairs and end up being a step above him when he comes to a stop in front of you. His hands come to rest on your waist naturally as he looks up at you.

“What’s up, doll? Not in trouble, right?” He smirks and takes a step closer.

This time, you match his smirk with your own. You rest a hand on his shoulder and one on the back of his neck. “Not at all, Buck. Just wanted to tell you something.”

“Oh yeah?” He laughs gently. “You panicking? Cause I’m gonna win this bet?”

You hum in response and bend so you’re at eye level with him. “Was just thinking of how good you look with kids. I think you’ll make a great dad one day.”

The cockiness is wiped from Bucky’s face and replaced with a look much softer. “You think?” He asks quietly.

You nod excitedly. “Of course. I think you’ll make an amazing dad. I can’t wait to start a family with you.” You take a step down, so now you have to look up at Bucky. His eyes follow you happily. “In fact, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

You pause and Bucky furrows his eyebrows. You can tell he’s a little confused on where you’re going and that now he’s not even thinking about your silly little bet. Then you smile. “All I’ve been thinking about all day is you putting a baby in me, Bucky Barnes. I want it so bad.” You say the words softly as you flutter your lashes and smile alluringly.

Bucky’s eyes widen and he takes a shocked step back before looking down at you. Then you see it, starting from the tips of his ears and spreading over his cheeks. Bucky Barnes turns redder than you’ve ever seen.

“You…” He stutters as he looks around, like he wants to make sure that nobody heard the words that have just come out of your mouth. “Evil woman.”

You take a step forward to press a kiss to his lips. You can tell by his embarrassed smile that he can feel the flush on his cheeks. “Guess I get to be in charge when we get home.” You take a step back and turn to head back inside.

You feel a hand grip your own and look back at him. “Are you serious? About wanting a baby?” He asks almost shyly, like he’s worried the answer might be no.

You can’t even allow him to entertain possibility. You nod quickly and excitedly. “Of course I was, my love. I wouldn’t pull that out just to win some silly bet.” He lets go of your hand and an excited smile spreads across both your faces.

“Yeah? Gonna let me put a baby in you?” He asks, this time more excitement than embarrassment seeping into his tone and taking over his face. He moves to wrap his arms around your waist and you do the same.

“Yeah. I just might.” You scrunch your nose up at him and he does the same in return. “Might even wear the suit for you anyways, since you’ll be doing me such a favor.” You wink and Bucky laughs again. The two of you have gotten the attention of Sam and his nephews, but you’re sure they can't hear anything you’re saying.

“Think it’s you doing the favor.” Bucky leans in close and lowers his voice. “Having my baby. I know you’ll look beautiful. Fuck. I’m about to get us a flight home tomorrow.”

You feel heat on the back of your neck and butterflies in your stomach as you process Bucky’s words. “Gonna build our own little family, Barnes. Better get ready.” You laugh giddily as you lean forward to rest your forehead against his.

Bucky closes the small gap between you with a hard kiss. You press your body against his as he holds you tighter. The two of you are completely unaware of Sam’s shocked face or his hands rushing to cover the two children’s eyes.

“Gross!” He yells out and the two of you spring apart with embarrassed smiles. Bucky’s cheeks turn red again and that only makes you want to kiss him more. “That’s gross. There are kids here. And me. Nobody wants to see that.”

Bucky presses a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling away entirely. “I’ll see you later?” He asks as you begin to head back inside.

You nod with a mischievous smile. “I’m gonna go look at flights. I’m ready to be home with you, Sergeant Barnes.”

You laugh when a light blush graces his face again before he spins around and rushes back over to Sam and the boys. Sam punches him on shoulder and you can see the beginnings of a lecture, so you turn and rush up the stairs and head inside.

You rest a hand on your stomach. You’re unsure if it’s to quell the excited butterflies or because of your new plan to have a baby, but either way it makes you smile as you think.

Bucky Barnes was pretty when he blushed. Even prettier when it was the thought of having a baby with you that made him do it.

You would have fun with this.

-

notes // try and tell me the idea of only u being able to make bucky blush doesn’t make u warm inside u CAN’T!